#and what better way to pair a lack of shirt than with fishnets?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Gearing up for the stat boosts

MDZS Disco Elysium AU Part 3 (Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4)

[pearlessance]

Fishnet's & Old Fashioned's [part two]

[part one]

Summary - Tommy Miller reallizes Joel's right; he's got it real bad for that scary chick.

Pairing - Tommy Miller/goth!bartender!Reader

Warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, begging, dom/sub undertones, switch!Tommy and switch!Reader, tongue piercings, nipple play, dirty talk, semi-public, hair pulling, vaginal fingering, kneeling, body worship, boot worship, oral sex, face fucking, face slapping, overstim

[crossposted on AO3]

SWITCHING HYSTERISIS

It’s an effort to keep himself from the bar until the day of your date. He reminds himself countless times, that it’s only three days. It’s only two days. It’s only one day. But you've bewitched him, burrowed into his brain and made a home there. And so Tommy hopes you’ll text him before Tuesday. He checks his phone ten times more than usual, wishing you were thinking of him even half as much as he’s thinking of you. But no text message ever pops up, and he gets no missed calls. 

Until Tuesday at nine in the morning, when you send a text message with your address, and Tommy starts rushing around to get ready. He puts on his best pair of Levi’s, and a cotton t-shirt that fits a little too tight on his biceps (black, of course, to match you). He combs and gels his hair, and wears a nice silver chain that Sarah got him for Christmas two years ago in an attempt at fashion advice. He brushes his teeth—twice, and still chews a stick of gum afterwards. He sprays his most expensive cologne and hangs a new black ice, tree-shaped air freshener in his truck.

He gets to your apartment ten minutes early and sees you waiting outside. Tommy can’t get out of the truck fast enough. He meets you on the sidewalk, holds out his hand, and immediately lifts your arm and indicates for you to spin in a circle so he can truly appreciate the dark mystery you exude. “Goddamn, girl,” he says, eyes raking over your long, fishnet-covered legs. You’re wearing a pleated black skirt that’s just a little too short, with a velvety crop top and platform boots with a bunch of silver buckles. The very same ones, Tommy remembers, that you wore that night he got on his knees for you. 

You smell like cherries again, sweet and earthy and delicious. You’re giggling softly when you face him once more, laughing at the awestruck expression on his face. “You don’t look so bad yourself, casanova,” you say, and it’s the closest thing to a compliment he’s ever received from those pretty crimson lips. It makes him feel dizzy.

Tommy opens the door to his truck for you and waits while you climb inside. “Hope you cleared your schedule, baby,” he tells you. “Got the whole day planned out for us.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I turned my location on then, so they know where to find my body when you’re done with it.” 

You say it so flatly that he can’t help but laugh. “Oh, darlin,' you think I’d leave that sweet little body behind?” He lets his gaze dip from your face to your cleavage, on full display all for him, and allows his attention to linger there for a moment longer than necessary. “Never.”

“How romantic and necrophiliac of you.” You say it with disdain, but the sun is high in the sky and he knows the warmth on your cheeks isn’t because of the weather.

He does have the whole day planned out. You stop at a local coffee shop on the way to San Antonio, and it surprises him when he orders a black coffee and you order something vanilla flavored with more milk in it than actual coffee. It makes him laugh and reminds him of Saturday night when he discovered that you wore pink panties beneath all your black leather and lace. It makes Tommy wonder what other parts of your life are filled with color, making up for the lack of it in your wardrobe.

He takes you to one of those fancy museums, just like he wanted, and it’s even better than he imagined. Tommy genuinely enjoys himself, even though he’s so out of his element it isn’t even funny. He’s the only person in the whole place in a pair of jeans, but you don’t seem to mind at all. You laugh at the jokes he makes about some of the weirder paintings, and when you see one inspired by those witch trials he learned about in high school Tommy listens to you talk about it for fifteen minutes. 

And the strangest part is that he’s enraptured by it. He loves hearing you talk, especially when you get excited and your hands start moving as you speak.

The weather is nicer when you’re finished—the sun has warmed the morning chill away and you decide to walk to the next attraction. Tommy takes you to that fancy cathedral and watches you gush over that, too. You look so pretty like this, he thinks—with wonder in your eyes and sunlight in your hair.

It’s weird to be this attached so quickly, he knows. You’re just some bartender he met a couple of weeks ago, and you know next to nothing about each other, but Tommy Miller wants to learn everything there is to know about you. He wants to learn more about those witch trials and about the gothic architecture in Europe you’re super knowledgeable about. He wants to listen to The Misfits and learn the lyrics, wants to find fishnet stockings and pink panties in his laundry.

But he doesn’t want to weird you out, and so instead he gives you a toothy grin and laces his fingers through yours. 

It startles you a little, at first, and you scowl at him. But then your scowl turns into a glare with a little smile, and you wrap your free hand around his elbow and step a little closer. 

Tommy Miller’s heart flutters, as if he’s some youthful boy falling in love for the first time and not the goth girl obsessed old man he really is.

He takes you to the fancy restaurant he made reservations at, and asks more questions than you can keep up with. You tell him about your parents and your best friend, and when he asks you about how you spend your time outside of work he laughs when you say, “I’ve been doing a lot of indoor gardening lately.” And then your easy energy fades, and Tommy’s laughter stops. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he says. “You’re just…”

“Just what?”

He parrots your words from that night on the hood of your car. “Surprising.”

You flush deeply, and you share a look that lets Tommy know you’re thinking of the exact moment he is. 

Pressure builds low in his belly at the thought. You’re in such a fancy place, eating some beef dish that he can’t pronounce, and you’re both thinking very inappropriate, filthy thoughts. 

The rest of the night goes so smoothly that Tommy doesn’t even realize the sun has set by the time you’re finished talking. And even on the drive home, he discovers that he just can’t shut up. He wants to know everything there is to know about you. And when he pulls up to your apartment, he can’t shake the feeling that this date wasn’t long enough. Twelve fucking hours later, a million questions and a million answers later, and he still selfishly wants more time with you. And so when he gets out of his truck and opens the door for you, Tommy asks, “Can I walk you to the door?”

You narrow your eyes only slightly, suspicion evident on your face. But for the first time in his entire life, Tommy doesn’t ask with the intent to get inside. He just wants to soak up these last few moments with you. “Yeah,” you finally answer. “That would be nice.”

He slips his arm around your shoulders, holding you close, and presses an innocent kiss to your forehead. “I had a real nice time with you, vampire girl,” he admits. Tommy thinks real nice is putting it lightly, but he only just convinced you to go on a single date with him and he doesn’t want to scare you off.

It’s comforting when you linger outside your apartment door and say, “Me too. You know, I actually…I’ve never been on a real date before.”

Tommy nearly doubles over. It’s criminal, he thinks. You should’ve always been treated like goddamn royalty, and any other person you’ve ever allowed close never deserved it. He didn’t ask about your past relationships, but Tommy knows that much for certain without an ounce of insight. “Aw, baby,” he groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “I hate that so much. You’ve got no clue how much I fucking hate that.” He lifts his head, only to fall to his knees before you. Tommy anchors himself by putting his warm, calloused hands on the back of your thighs, letting himself feel the soft skin and the rough fabric of your fishnets. 

His face is level with your navel, and he presses a kiss to the exposed skin between your skirt and cropped top. It almost makes him moan when you thread your hands through his hair, black-painted fingernails scratching lightly at his scalp. “That’s what I’ve got you for,” you say. You pull his hair at the roots, forcing his head back, forcing him to look up at you through hooded eyes. 

If any of his friends were to see him right now, Tommy knows he’d never hear the fucking end of it. But he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care because his cock hardens every time he’s on his knees for you. Never thought he’d be the kind of man to want a woman to take charge—but here you are, and Tommy Miller has never experienced something so fucking erotic in all his life. Your words make him smile. “Yeah, you do,” he beams. “I’ll take you on a hundred dates, each better than the last.”

You turn those siren eyes on him and he feels a little like he’s been inducted into some sort of ritual. He doesn’t mind, though. Is ready and willing to do and be whatever you want. Your voice is low, hardly a whisper, as you ask, “Do you usually fuck on the first date, casanova?”

He inhales a ragged breath but it doesn’t do a single thing to ease the ache in his chest. Tommy licks his lips, hopes you’ll invite him inside both your apartment and your heart because you have catastrophically devoured him. He wants it, wants you, so badly that it hurts.

But he doesn’t want it for one night. He wants it for far longer than that. 

And so he tells the truth. “Sometimes,” he says. “But I can’t do that with you, vampire girl. Ya mean too much to me.”

His confession makes you smile. A sweet, pretty little smirk that’s not quite devoid of corruption. “You want to, though. Hm?”

Tommy groans, squeezes his eyes closed, and presses his forehead against your hipbone. “More than fuckin’ anything, sweetheart.” He kisses that sliver of skin again, this time an open-mouthed kiss that leaves moisture in the wake of his lips. “Have no idea what I wanna do to you.”

He slides his hands on the back of your thighs up further, sighing in contentment. He grabs two fistfuls of your ass and discovers you wear nothing but fishnets beneath your skirt and the realization makes him ache. He squeezes the supple flesh between his fingers, wishing so badly that he could worship you the way you deserve. “I could guess,” you say, taking on a teasing tone. “Come here.”

What is he to do but obey your every command? Tommy rises to his feet and shudders when your hand finds the bulge in his jeans. You’re touching him— touching him, and he thinks he might fucking die. It’s strenuous to fight the urge to rut his hips into your hand, to beg you to give him something.

Christ, you make him so fucking weak.

He towers over you, easily by a foot, and you have to crane your head back just to look up at him. “You can give me a kiss goodnight, though, can’t you? Strong enough to do that?”

Tommy takes you by the throat and forces you against the door to your apartment. His lips crash against yours, hunger and greed in his every movement. His cock throbs almost painfully in his jeans, and he presses it into you so you know just how badly you torment him.

A keening, desperate whine leaves the back of your throat. He uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, to savor the taste of you. That metal barbell tastes just as good as he remembers. Your skirt lifts the smallest bit, and Tommy wedges his knee between your legs and grins when you begin to grind down against the rough denim of his jeans. “Don’t go breakin’ the rules now, vampire girl,” he whispers against your cheek. “I know you want it, too. Just as fuckin’ bad. Ain’t that right?”

“Oh my god,” is all you say in answer. Your cheeks are flushed and that pretty wine color on your lips has smeared. Tommy knows it’s likely on his face too, yet he goes back for more. He kisses you again, harder this time, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and dragging it out. You moan into his mouth, hips canting over his thigh.

The denim begins to darken, wet heat soaking through his jeans. “Oh, sweetheart. Look at that. Pretty pussy’s just fuckin’ cryin’ for me, ain't it?”

You nod frantically, and Tommy presses his thigh between your legs harder, chuckling as need overtakes you. You look so goddamn pretty just like this, chasing that high, so fucking close —

Down the hall, a door is ripped open. Tommy takes a step away from you, heart racing behind his ribcage. He watches your flushed cheeks become impossibly redder, holds back his laughter when you cover your mouth with your hand and your eyes widen.

Your chest rises and falls in quick succession while you try to catch your breath, to fight off the shock. 

An older woman dressed in pajama pants and a hoodie has a little pomeranian on a leash. She gives Tommy a tight-lipped smile as she walks past the two of you.

When he hears the apartment’s lobby door slam closed, Tommy glances down at the tent in his jeans and laughs so hard it hurts.

You mirror the sound, and soon it’s not your pretty moans echoing in the hall but instead, it’s your giggles. A sound somehow sweeter to his ears. 

He’s thankful for the intrusion though. Truly. Because if you would’ve asked, he would have gone inside with you. And for the first time in all his life, Tommy thinks he might have a decent shot at this. Thinks he might actually want you to be the first girl he ever brings home to meet the family. His living family, that is.

“I’ll come by the bar this weekend,” he promises, pressing one last kiss to your temple. “I had a real nice time with you, baby.”

You nod and drag your teeth across your bottom lip. “I did, too.”

You don’t invite him inside. Tommy walks down the stairs, wondering if there existed a situation where sleeping together on the first date wouldn’t be a curse. Based on past experiences, it would be, though. The only other serious girlfriend he’s ever had was right after high school. He’d slept with her on the first date, and a few short months later Tommy Miller had sworn off relationships altogether.

But the problem is that it’s never been like this for him. Never felt like this. Not even once in all his life has he wanted someone so badly, has he been this intrigued by what someone else has to say. It’s like you feed his soul, somehow.

Comparing this to any of his past experiences feels foolish, inadequate. 

He makes it through the lobby, past the woman and her pomeranian over in the grass. Makes it all the way back to his truck…and then he hears you call his name. 

He’s never moved so fucking fast. And he’s not embarrassed by it, either. Not even when the woman and her pomeranian give him the dirtiest look as he sprints back across the walkway and into the lobby. He grabs you by the waist, lifting you into his arms, and revels in your easy laughter as he takes the stairs back up to your apartment two at a time.

The door has been left half open in your haste to get back to him, and he wastes no time inviting himself in and kicking it closed behind him. Your limbs are wrapped around his torso, but Tommy doesn’t make it two feet into your apartment before you’re lowering yourself to your knees before him.

And, Christ,  it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. “God damn, baby. Fuck, fuck, I—”

“We’ll go on another date,” you say, fumbling with his belt buckle. “And technically…technically this is our second one, right? We didn’t fuck on the first date, you just made me cum on the hood of my car. This is the second date.” 

He thinks you look real cute when you try to reason with yourself. But Tommy’s starting to believe that reasoning has become irrelevant when it concerns the two of you. But he still needs to hear it, still needs to know you want this. So he says, “Tell me what you want, vampire girl. You gotta use your words.”

“You, Tommy. I want you.”

It makes his heart stop dead in his chest. Everything, everything has been sacrificed, given in offering to his most precious goddess. And he knows in this very moment that there will never be any going back from this. He knows he will never, ever be rid of you. Knows he’ll see you forever in his dreams, his nightmares. With just those few short words he relinquishes all control. 

But he can still take some back.

He grabs a handful of your hair and pulls your head back. There’s a frenzied look on your face that heightens everything for him, knowing you want this just as bad. Tommy understands your insatiable desire all too well. And so he decides that for tonight, for you, he’s not holding anything back. He’s giving you everything, bearing the best and worst parts of himself to you here and now. “Nah, baby. No hands. Use your fuckin’ teeth.” 

A wicked, sinful smirk tugs at your lips. You do as he says, sticking your hands between your soft thighs. You look like Persephone embodied as he watches you drag the zipper of his jeans down with your teeth, obeying his command. 

Controlling? Sure. But Tommy isn’t cruel, and so he decides to help you. He shoves his jeans and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free, and he admires the look on your face.

He knows he’s been blessed. Given a gift most men can only dream of. But he’s never been more thankful for it than the moment you lick your lips and then lick him.

Tommy’s never been with a girl who has any piercings, let alone one in her mouth. And he now knows that in this, too, there will be no return for him. 

Because how could it ever feel better than this?  

There’s a bead of precum dripping from the tip, and you lick it up greedily. You familiarize your tongue with every inch of him, running it down the vein on the underside of his cock. It’s a teasing caress, but Tommy never wants it to fucking end.

When you finally take him into your mouth, wrapping your pretty, wine-stained lips around him, he lets out a groan and nearly falls back into the wall. You feel so fucking good as you swallow him down. Your mouth is so warm, so wet, that the barbell is a solid contrast to the softness of your tongue.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Yeah, there you go. Just like that—fuck.” 

Your hands remain tucked firmly between your thighs. Pretty, obedient girl. You use only your lips and tongue and it’s like euphoria, like heaven. It feels so good that he just can't help himself. 

Tommy cradles your face between his hands and guides your mouth around him, shoves himself even further down your throat. You choke and your eyes begin to water, smearing all that black eyeliner down your cheeks, but never once do you give him any indication you want to stop.

He fucks your face unabashedly and it’s even better than any of his fantasies ever were. He feels you swallow him down impossibly deeper, feels the vibration in your throat as you moan around his cock. Spit trickles down your chin, and the image is filthy and obscene and it will be forever scarred into his fucking brain. “You take me so good, baby. So fuckin’ good. Sweet little mouth was made to have a cock in it, huh?”

Two seconds more and he’ll cum down your throat. Tommy forces himself to pull away, forces himself to take a goddamn breath. His cock is aching, hanging heavy between you, covered in your saliva that still connects him to your mouth. It looks like something right out of a porno, he thinks. 

And when you smile at him, pride shining on your tear-stained face, he nearly loses his balance.

He’s in an absolute fucking freefall. And he wants to worship at your demonic altar. 

You stand to your feet, and Tommy’s mouth is back on yours because he can never tire of kissing you, of swallowing up that cherry poison. He drinks you in deep, uncaring of the spit that smears across his chin, humming in contentment because, beneath your ambrosia taste, there’s a little bit of him that lingers. 

There’s a black couch in the center of your living room. You push him down onto it, leaning over to kiss him a little deeper. He tries to pull you into his lap, but you smack his greedy fingers away from your hips. “No hands, casanova. Remember?” 

He fucking loves this shit.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, mirroring your idea and shoving his hands beneath his thighs. The leather is cold against the heated flesh of his knuckles, and within seconds he’s fighting the urge to pull them out and touch you again.

You bite your bottom lip contemplatively, but he can see the heat behind those siren eyes of yours and knows without a second of doubt that he would do anything you ask of him. Doesn’t matter how filthy, doesn’t matter how vulgar—because it’s you.

He doesn’t even flinch when you lift your shiny black boot and press the platform into his chest. Instead, he keeps his eyes trained on yours as he tastes the iron of the buckles, metallic on his tastebuds. He’s slow in his pursuit, the leather smooth beneath the flat of his tongue as he weaves it between the straps.

Your eyes darken, pupils blown wide. He’s in absolute awe as your hand slides lightly down your chest, over the swell of your breasts, down your abdomen. Tommy watches it disappear beneath the black fabric of your skirt and has never been so envious of a hand in all his life. 

His voice comes out docile and meek as he says, “Lift your skirt. I want to see it. Please.” 

“You think you’ve earned it?” Everything about you draws him in; even your wicked, evil words. “Because I don’t think you have. Start over, casanova.”

It’s the most degrading, salacious thing he’s ever done, but he does it. He starts at the base of your boot again, right over your ankle, following the wet path his tongue has already created. His cock is so hard it hurts. When he finally makes it past your boot, he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh just above your knee. You let out a gasp of surprise but it quickly turns into a whimper, so Tommy does it again. 

He bites harder, sucks a bruise into the softness of your thigh, shudders at the feeling of your fishnets in his mouth once again, harsh and coarse but so unbelievably satisfying.

“Tell me something,” you say breathlessly. “Are you as good with that mouth of yours as you are with your hands?”

He smirks, the promise of tasting you from the source enough to make goosebumps rise over his skin.

“And don’t lie, casanova. I’ll know if you do.”

“Only one way to find out, vampire girl,” he says. “C’mere.”

You move your boot to rest beside him on the couch instead, placing both hands on his shoulders for balance. He surges forward, dips his head beneath the edge of your tiny little skirt, and fucking moans at the heady taste of you. Better than Ambrosia, better than an Old Fashioned, better than fucking anything he’s ever had in all his life.

He knows he’s not supposed to use his hands. But Tommy Miller’s never been much of a rule follower, and so he grabs your ass and pulls your closer, pulls you in until you fall on top of him. 

He licks up that sweet wetness, tongue sliding through your pussy and circling your clit. You shiver and shake when he sucks it into his mouth, rolling it between his lips. All he wants, all he’s ever fucking wanted was to make you feel good. But somehow he feels like this is almost for him, a gift, a stolen moment in time he’ll never understand what he’s done to deserve.

Your hands are in his hair and you’re moaning his name and as much as he loves them, Tommy reaches a hand between your legs and rips apart your fishnets. He doesn’t want anything separating him from this, doesn’t want anything getting in the way of this miracle given to him by God himself. 

No part of you remains untouched because Tommy Miller is ravenous for you. He licks through your folds with a flat tongue, circles your clit with the point of it. He can feel it pulse in his mouth, and he can't hold back the groan that leaves him. He laps at you like a man starved because he believes he has been. All these years without you, all these years missing out on this.

You gather your skirt in your hands, holding it above his head. You look so pretty from this angle, a dark goddess in eternal bloom. He cannot get over it, your demonic sorcery. It brings him to his knees where he could spend the rest of his life happily.

A part of him wishes you would take charge in this, too. Wishes you would take your pleasure with his mouth however you want it, wishes you would take what you deserve. Because Tommy wants to feel it, wants to fucking taste it, wants to know what it’s like to make you cum on his face so he’ll never forget it.

He pulls away only long enough to shift his body off the couch and onto the floor. “Ride my face, baby.”

You tilt your head, and Tommy recognizes that wicked gleam in your eye. Knows you’re about to make him work for it like you always do, hopes you’ll always make him work for it because he enjoys the chase perhaps a little too much. Somehow, that makes it all the more exciting. “Where are your manners, casanova? Ever learn how to say—?”

“Please,” he interrupts. Because never in his fucking life has he needed something so badly. He doesn’t care that he’s begging, doesn’t care that he looks a fool. “Please, baby. Please, I need it. I fuckin’ need you so bad.”

You don’t leave him waiting long. And it feels like a breath of fresh air to have you in his mouth again, to taste you. Your slick covers chin but he loves it. Loves it. Loves it even more when you thread those sharp claws through his hair and begin to grind your pussy against his face. 

Tommy sticks out his tongue, keeps it wide and flat, and hooks the tip just a little so it catches on your opening every time you shift down. His nose nudges your clit with each tilt of your hips, and you reward him for it with pretty sounding moans 

The sudden thought strikes him that he could cum just like this. Hands free. Tommy fucking Miller thinks he might cum with just the taste of you. 

Devoured doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

“Oh, god. Fuck, that feels so good,” you say, and he feels pride swell in his chest. Your hips move faster, grinding harder. Shameless in their pursuit, chasing that familiar high.

Tommy just pulls your closer, hums against your pussy to try and get you there. 

It works. Within a few short minutes, your breathing goes ragged and your hands tighten in the roots of his hair. “I’m gonna cum, fuck, Tommy, I—oh, God .”

A rush of liquid invades his mouth and trickles down his neck. It’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Tommy thinks you cum even prettier when it’s because of his mouth and not his fingers.

He wants to make you cum forever. Wants to make you cum in every room in your apartment, in every room in his house, in his truck, in the bathroom of the restaurant you ate at today. He wants to bend you over that bartop and fuck you until you know no words but his name, wants to fuck you senseless.

The suction of his lips around your clit doesn’t lessen until your breathing evens out and every stroke of his tongue pulls a pretty, overstimulated hiss from your mouth. You try to push yourself up on wobbly legs but fail, and Tommy is glad for it because you stumble right into his lap. Right where you belong.

His lips are still wet with your slick as you lean in and kiss him, tasting yourself in his mouth. He can feel you smile against him and he can’t help but mirror it. “You’re fuckin’ incredible, baby. You know that?”

You shift backward, sliding your ass down his legs. His cock lays against his abdomen, the tip flushed crimson, veins prominent and pulsing with need. You bite your lip as you admire his erection while he admires you. He tries to catch his breath to no avail because you reach between your bodies and take his cock in your hand, running your fingers over it slowly. 

The touch is featherlight and affectionate. It’s not meant to be pleasurable for him. It’s for you and your own playful curiosity, and yet you’ve strung him so high, wound him so tight that every soft caress of your fingertips sends shockwaves of electricity down his spine.

You lean your head over his lap and he watches your spit drip onto his cock, landing just on the underside of the head. With your thumb, you spread it across the tip and Tommy’s hips buck up into your hand. You giggle and it’s somehow the cutest and most maniacal thing he’s ever heard in all his life. “You poor thing,” you murmur, counterfeit pity laced in your words.

“Jesus, fuck.” Tommy groans when you slide your thumb across the sensitive head again, thrusting into the palm of your hand. His skin feels too tight, his blood too hot. “C’mon, sweetheart. You’re gonna kill me if you keep doin’ that.”

You do it again and laugh when the muscles in his abdomen visibly tighten. “Mm. Feels real good though, doesn’t it?”

“Know what’ll feel even better?”

No answer comes in the form of words. Instead, You shift back up his lap, hike your skirt up your belly, and slide the head of his cock through your wetness. “This?”

He moans with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He can feel himself losing control, can feel his grip on restrain wavering with each pass through your heat, coating him in your slick. The sight of himself so close, so fucking close is almost too much to bear. Each time his cock glides over your entrance his hips lift, pressing himself into you, desperate to feel just how tight you are. But your timing is too perfect and his is too restless. “Careful, now,” he warns.

Still, your malicious intent persists. “What’s wrong, casanova? You want something else?” You sound so innocent, so pure. Tommy knows you’re not. “I suggest you take it, then.”

He does. 

Tommy takes your hips in a bruising grip, lays you back against the hardwood floor, and in one smooth movement, he sinks into you deep. If he thought your mouth was heaven, this is some sort of nirvana, a garden of Eden meant for him and him alone. He lets out a sigh of relief and breathes it into the hollow of your throat. “Fuck, baby.”

He can feel you stretch around him, can feel your nails sink into his back. “It hurts,” you say around a whine. 

Leaning back just enough to see your face, to assess just how you’re feeling, Tommy smiles upon the realization that you like how it hurts. Like the pain of it, like the bruising momentum of his desire for you. He rocks into you slowly at first, delighting in that pretty crease that forms between your brows, in the way your lips part and your legs wrap around him. “S’alright, sweetheart,” he coos. “You can take it, can’t you?”

You nod and he picks up the pace, burying himself as deep within you as your anatomy will allow. Tommy presses his mouth to your collarbone, bites the soft skin, sucks another mark there to cement his existence within you. The sting of his teeth only seems to heighten everything for you; moans growing louder, your thighs tightening around his waist. “Yes, yes—don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He hooks his hand around your left thigh and presses your leg up, opening you so he can get impossibly deeper. His hips crash against yours, and your staccato moans are music to his ears. The best symphony he’s ever heard, his very favorite melody.

One of your hands attempts to wriggle between your bodies but he just slaps it away. 

“No hands, vampire girl. Remember?” His tone is mocking and mean but it only makes your pussy grip him harder. “When you cum it’s gonna be because of me. You understand?” You nod in answer but he wants more, will always want more of you. “Say yes.”

“God, yes, yes, fuck —right there. Yes, I understand,” you whimper in answer.

Tommy likes telling you what to do, likes having you at his mercy. But he also likes giving you exactly what you want, and so he takes his free hand and finds your clit just like you’d planned to. He circles it gently, feels it pulse beneath his fingertips. “You feel so good, baby,” he coos against the shell of your ear. “Pretty little pussy was fuckin’ made for me, huh? Ain’t that right?”

Again, no answer comes in the form of words. You’re too shrouded in bliss, too fucked out. Your pointed nails are almost painful against his back, even through his cotton t-shirt. Tommy sits back on his knees and his cock nudges that sweet spot inside of you with the new angle.

He admires the way his cock looks as he fucks you with it relentlessly, glossy and covered in your slick. He knows he won’t last long because the sight alone is almost enough to do him in. But he wants to hear you. Wants you to beg for it. And because he promised himself there would be no inhibitions when it comes to you, Tommy does the most unhinged thing he’s ever done to a woman. 

The crack of his palm against the side of your cheek echoes in your apartment. You let out a sound that’s full of both surprise and lust and one of your hands abandons its assault on his spine to cradle the point of impact.

Tommy’s hips slow, and he’s waiting for you to shove him away. 

But all you do is smile up at him. A pretty, girlish smile that holds no wickedness at all. It’s pleasant and warm and so submissive that it makes his chest pull tight. 

“Asked you a question, darlin,” he says lowly. “You should answer when I’m talkin’ to you.”

“I’m sorry you’re right, you’re right —oh god, you’re gonna make me—!”

“You think you’ve earned it?” The words are spit venomously but hold no salt. He’s going to get you there first like a gentleman, of course he is. Still, he can feel his own release creeping up on him and he holds back as hard as he can. 

“Please,” you whimper, and it’s the prettiest word he’s ever heard in that perfect mouth of yours. “Please, please please—!”

“You’re so cute when you beg. Say it, baby. Tell me who’s pussy this is. Tell me who she belongs to. Tell me who makes her feel this good.” He circles your clit faster, thrusts his hips a little harder. 

It feels like a relief when you say, “It’s yours. Fuck —it’s yours. All yours, Tommy, I promise.”

That coil wound around his spine finally snaps. Because it feels so good to hear you admit it, to hear your resolve wilt and wither. 

His.

“Cum with me, baby,” Tommy says, and you don’t hesitate. Your fishnet-covered thighs turn into a vice around his waist yet still he persists, obscene sounds filling the room. He feels your pussy tighten around him and immediately follows you there, spilling deep inside of you. “Yeah, that’s it. Good fuckin’ girl. Goddamn, baby— fuck.”

“I’m yours,” you whimper, deep in the throes of bliss. The words are a fucking gift. Your thighs tremble and your chest flushes and Tommy realizes just how bad he missed this. How bad he wants to make you cum for the rest of his life, how bad he wants to hear you moan his name, how bad he wants to moan yours. 

You come down slowly and you do it together. It’s easily the most intimate thing he’s ever experienced as he runs his fingers lightly through your hair, pushing the messy strands behind your ear, the pad of his thumb stroking your cheekbone. You smile up at him as you catch your breath, and he can’t help the sentiment as it slips out. “You mean so much to me, vampire girl.”

Crimson stains your cheeks and you press your face into his palm to try and hide it. “Shut up,” you say—but Tommy feels like it’s a phrase of endearment coming from your lips. 

Normally this is the part he hates. The awkward post-coital clarity that usually leaves his skin crawling, trying to find any half-believable truth that will allow him to leave. Only, he doesn’t want to leave you. And so he says, “You wanna shower together?”

“I hope you like cherry scented body wash,” you reply in answer. 

Tommy Miller realizes he loves cherry scented body wash, in fact. And more than that, he likes taking care of you.

Your bathroom is floral themed. There are maroon hand towels over the sink and the shower curtain is black and decorated with plum colored dahlias. You start to strip off your clothes, but Tommy stops you. 

“Let me,” he says. And then he’s on his knees for you in a whole new way. A way that feels a little more weighted, a little more real. But Tommy finds that he doesn’t mind it at all and is careful as he unbuckles your tall leather boots and takes them carefully off your feet. He slides your skirt down your soft thighs, and then your fishnets. He presses a kiss to your belly and stands to his feet. “Arms up,” he instructs and pulls your top off once you obey. 

Once you’re completely bare, Tommy lets you strip his clothes off of him, piling everything into the laundry bin. And even though you don’t talk it feels heavy and intimate in a way he’s never experienced before. 

He washes your hair for you while you cover him in cherry scented suds, your hands on his skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. But he’s not able to completely relax until after you rinse and dry off, after you change into a pair of black and white flannel pajama pants and an oversized tshirt that says Type O Negative. 

Because before he has a chance to pull his jeans back on you say, “I work tomorrow, but in the afternoon. You can stay the night if you want.”

Tommy grins and says, “You gonna sacrifice me in my sleep or somethin’? Cause—hey,” he raises his hands in mock surrender. “I’m willing.”

You laugh and shake your head and call him an idiot, but shortly after Tommy’s wrapped up in black silk sheets, and you’re wrapped up in him. And he figures there’s no time like the present and so he makes a confession both to himself and to you. “Don’t want this to be a one time thing,” Tommy tells you, tightening his arm around your waist. “I want you, vampire girl. If you’ll have me…I’m yours.”

It’s dark in your bedroom but he feels your lips against his bare collarbone and it makes him shiver in delight. “Lucky for you, it seems like I’ve got a soft spot for cowboys.”

Tommy pulls your soft body on top of his and lets himself drown in the comforting warmth, lets himself sink into the intense affection he has for you. He begins to wonder how it’s possible he’s attached himself to you so quickly, making every other connection he’s had with a woman feel hollow and insignificant. He wonders if the reason he’s never taken a second glance at a goth girl is because this whole time he’s been waiting for you, waiting to find this divine, otherworldly bond.

His eyes begin to adjust in the dark. And on the ceiling right above your bed, he notices a poster. It’s a vampiric-looking man with a neon green guitar in his hand. Tommy points to it and asks, “Who’s that?”

“Peter Steele. Meet the only man you’ll ever be in competition with,” you answer.

He can hear the amusement in your tone and feels a deep appreciation for the subject change, afraid he may admit too much too soon. “I could take him.”

You snort. “He’s dead.”

“What?” Tommy drops his hand to his side. “Now, that’s an unfair advantage. You want me to compete with a dead guy? What can be more goth than dead?”

Your chest shakes as you hold in a laugh. But it escapes anyway, and soon you devolve into the cutest giggles he’s ever heard. Tommy mirrors the sound, and though you don’t get much sleep that night, the apples of his cheeks ache from smiling by the time the sun comes over the horizon.

[gayphob1a]

November 3rd – grinding

Eddie comes home to Steve and Robin doing random shit quite often. At this point, it’s just normal to get home from work and find Steve painting her nails, Robin giving him a haircut, or even that one time he walked into the bedroom to find Steve completely naked with a bag from Victoria’s Secret, modeling new lingerie pieces while Robin laid back on the bed with a whiteboard, giving each a rating out of ten. He didn’t bat an eye then, completely familiar with the extent to which their relationship is Platonic with a capital P, and today is no different.

Eddie knows they’re going out tonight, and he expects them to wear him down to join them as soon as walks through the door, so he’s slightly thrown off by the lack of a stampede when he unlocks the front door, calling out his typical greeting of, “Honeyyy, I’m hooome!” That is until he finds them in the bathroom. Steve is sitting in the sink, the countertops littered with every piece of makeup Robin owns. She’s standing between his legs applying eyeliner to his already unfairly beautiful eyes.

“Well, hello there, my love.” Eddie bats Robin’s hand away to place a chaste kiss to Steve’s lips before moving out of the way so Robin can go back to her, frankly, godly work.

“Hey Eds. How was work?” Steve asks, that sweet tone that leaves Eddie weak laces his tone and he knows he won’t have any fight in him when he’s inevitably asked to come along.

“Another day, another shit-show at the shop. I can’t wait to curl up on the couch and relax with you tonight, sweetheart,” Eddie teases.

It works. Hook, line, and sinker, as Steve pushes away Robin’s hand to bat those long mascara coated lashes at him.

“But Eddieee! We’re going out tonight. I wanted you to come with.” Steve pouts, and shit, if Eddie thought his eyes were convincing with a little bit of makeup, the addition of a pout and puppy eyes are kryptonite.

Eddie sighs, unable to even keep up the game he was attempting to play. “Of course, I’ll come with you Stevie. Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Robin mimes a finger in her mouth, soundlessly gagging. Typical. Steve swats her arm and she smiles back at him, devolving both of them into a fit of giggles. Eddie just snorts and wanders off to the kitchen while they finish up so he can grab a snack before he showers. He makes two extra sandwiches for them and eats quickly. When the two of them wander out he gives Steve another kiss, reminds him to eat and hops in the shower to scrub off the grease from a long day of oil changes and tire rotations. He doesn’t take long, but when he gets out, he is entirely not expecting the hurricane he finds in the bedroom.

Clothes are scattered over every available surface. The dresser, the bed, the floor. It’s a maze he navigates with relative ease until he gets to the closet and realizes most of the clothes are his.

“Guys, what the hell?!”

Steve’s head pops through the open bedroom door with a goofy grin and he points the the clothes on top of the dresser.

“We picked out an outfit for you already.”

“You–” and sure enough, the clothes there are his favorite pair of tight leather pants, a cropped shirt and a pair of fishnets. “Steve, how am I supposed to wear fishnets with these pants?”

“Oh right. There’s a hole in the crotch, put them on under your shirt.”

Eddie has no idea where he got that idea, but he went to all the effort so he might as well oblige. He pulls the outfit on and throws his vest over it for good measure. It may not protect him from the cold like his heavy leather jacket, but he can’t seem to find the thing, and the vest is better than nothing.

Eddie wanders out of the room adjusting the layers of his outfit and grumbling to himself. “Steven Anita you better clean up that room when we get home or I swear to go–” He stops dead in his tracks when he looks up at Steve. He’s in a short black pleated skirt, matching fishnets to Eddie’s own standing out against the plush of his tan thighs, one of Eddie’s metallica shirts tight against his toned chest under Eddie’s jacket. He looks like something out of a wet dream.

“Wh– Where did you even get that?” Eddie muses.

“I borrowed it from Nancy,” Robin says, smirking next to Steve. Oh right, Robin’s here. Eddie… honestly forgot. “So are you two going to keep gawking at each other, or are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, le– we can… Let’s go.” Eddie stammers out, gripping Steve’s hand in his own, barely able to tear his eyes away from the way his skirt sits high up on his thighs. He knows it must barely cover his ass. Jesus, fuck, Eddie’s going to come in his pants if he gets a face full of that.

The club they’re going to is a couple towns over. Eddie is driving which feels like an irresponsible choice honestly, because he can’t keep both hands on the wheel, one of them constantly drifting over to play with the thin strings of the stockings covering Steve’s inner thigh. Steve just chats idly with Robin as if he’s not fully aware of the fact that he’s taking Eddie apart from the inside out. He zones out most of the drive, only tipping the van onto two wheels a couple times, but they make it mostly in one piece.

Outside, the fall air nips at Eddie’s mostly bare arms. He’s not totally sure if the goosebumps are a result of that or the way Steve clings to him, but once they enter the club, the wave of heat from sweaty bodies grinding on the dance floor hits him like a ton of bricks, but his skin’s reaction does not subside.

“Drinks?” Robin shouts over the din of music and chatter.

Steve’s face lights up, nodding and dragging Eddie along to the bar with him to order them all a round of shots. When they arrive, they all three clink the tiny glasses together and down them in one, laughing together at the way their faces pinch at the burn in their throats. Eddie is itching to pull Steve to the dance floor after one more, but he knows that’s not how these nights go. First, Steve plays wingman for Robin, THEN he turns his attention to Eddie. Not that Eddie would ever complain. He feels lucky just to be in Steve’s presence, admiring the way his charm pulls others in, knowing it belongs all to him.

The two of them set to work finding a worthy candidate to be the object of Robin’s affections for the evening. It doesn’t take them long before settling on a petite girl across the bar with strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looks familiar, but surely no one from Hawkins would be caught dead in a gay bar two towns over, right? But sure enough, just as Steve is about to make his way over, she looks up, and oh shit, Chrissy Cunningham is walking over to them.

“Hey Steve! What are you doing here?” The brightness that radiates off of Chrissy doesn’t falter for a second as she speaks to him, though her eyes are pointedly trained on Robin rather than the person she’s addressing.

“Oh just out for some fun, same as you I suppose.” Steve replies, smiling as he looks between the two women. “Have you met my friend Robin?”

Chrissy’s eyes sparkle with recognition. “You went to Hawkins High too, right? You were in band? I remember seeing you at pep rallies. The ruffles really suited you.”

“Uh, I, you–” Steve smacks her lightly on the back, the smile never leaving his face. “Thank you!” She manages to get out. “You were in cheer right?”

“Uh huh! Still am, actually. Well, I’m a coach for a junior league, but still.” Finally her eyes leave Robin’s face and seem to notice Eddie for the first time. “Oh, Eddie, right? So are you all together or?”

Eddie chuckles at the way Steve and Robin trip over each other to explain that their relationship is 1000% platonic, but luckily he’s there to smoothly explain. “No, just Steve and I, actually. Robin is just our, what? Third wheel?”

Robin snorts at that. “You wish, Munson. If anything you’re ours.”

“Well, maybe I can help with that. Mind if I steal your girl away for a while?” Chrissy asks, mostly to Robin, who just nods dumbly and scrambles to take her outstretched hand and follow Chrissy to the dance floor.

“Huh, Cunningham. Never would have called that one.” Eddie wonders aloud.

“You also never would have called me if I hadn’t made the first move,” Steve sasses back. Which, okay, that’s a fair cop.

“Fair enough, Stevie boy,” Eddie says, extending a hand and sweeping down into a low bow. “Care to join me for a dance?”

Steve snorts, used to and overly fond of his boyfriend’s flirting style. He takes the hand extended to him with an equally ridiculous: “my liege,” and follows him out to the floor.

The lights are intense and the thrumming base of the dance music beats through the floor all the way into Eddie’s chest, and he knows exactly what Steve needs before he even says it. He tucks Steve’s face into his shoulder, wrapping his arms low around his waist, their pelvises pressed tightly together as they sway in time with the beat. Steve’s arms are wrapped tightly around Eddie’s neck, one hand winding into the hair at the base of his neck, inhaling the scent of his body wash and cologne deeply in order to ground himself. He’s not entirely sure why Steve loves this so much. After enough hits to the head during sports, the loud lights and noises are a little intense for him, but he always finds solace in Eddie’s arms. Actually, maybe that’s exactly why he loves it so much. And Eddie will take any excuse to hold Steve in his arms and feel him pressed tight against his body.

They stay swaying gently to the rhythm for a couple songs until Steve groans gently.

“You doing okay, princess?” Eddie asks.

“‘M okay, Eds.”

“Does your head hurt?”

“Sort of?”

“Sort of? Baby if you’re feeling the start of a migraine we can go.”

“No it’s… not that,” Steve says sheepishly. He rolls his hips against Eddie’s tentatively and he feels it. There’s a very obvious bulge under the skirt and Steve’s face lifts from his shoulder with a delicious blush coating his cheeks. Oh, that head.

“Oh sweetheart. We’re only three days in and you’re already getting hard from a little dancing?”

Steve can’t seem to form words at that, just blushing deeper and nodding sheepishly. Eddie feels his own dick twitch in interest. He rolls hips up to meet Steve’s, relishing in the little moan he gets in return. He knows he can’t push this or Steve might literally cum in his pants, but damn it if he can’t have a little fun first. Couples all around them are grinding uncontrollably, lithe movements meant to chase pleasure rather than feel the music, and Eddie can’t help but follow suit. He adjusts his hold on Steve, grabbing him by the hips to keep them tethered while he kisses along Steve’s jaw and down his neck.

“Eddie,” Steve whines. “Please.”

“Please what, honey?”

Steve grinds slowly against Eddie’s growing bulge. “More. Please.”

“Are you sure about that?” Eddie looks around as if afraid of someone seeing them, knows Steve will wilt under the very idea of anyone’s attention on him.

In lieu of an answer, Steve tries to tuck his head back into Eddie’s shoulder as he picks up a steady rhythm to roll against him. Eddie is not having that, though. His hand finds its way into Steve’s hair and tugs gently, lifting his head back up to stare into his eyes. He wants to see the want, the need evidenced in his face. What he finds is perfection. Steve is panting with want, a fire lit behind his hazel eyes and Eddie can’t hold back anymore. His cock aches against the zipper of his tight pants and he craves some kind of friction, finding it in the hard outline that’s well hidden by the flowy fabric of Steve’s skirt.

Fuck, that skirt. Eddie didn’t know until recently just how badly he loved to see Steve in traditionally “feminine” clothing. It’s not about feminization, though if that’s what Steve wanted, he would most certainly be on board. No, it’s about the tabletop ranting, it’s about his own love of heavy metal, his own long hair and chains. It’s the lack of regard for what anyone else thinks, the way anti-establishment sentimentality has long been a part of Eddie’s rhetoric and has seemingly seeped into Steve’s own self confidence. It’s the way that the two of them have grown separately and together, making each other better people, more comfortable in their own skins from the last couple years of loving each other unconditionally.

Steve started wearing lace and lingerie a couple months ago to tease Eddie. Eddie loved it, but more importantly, Steve loved it. Steve loved pretty things. He deserved pretty things and everything nice the world had to offer. And the skirt was damn pretty. He’d have to remember to thank Nancy later.

But for now, his attention was solely on Steve, his hands finding their way to the supple meat of his ass under the flowing fabric. He can feel the silky panties covering his soft skin and hooks a finger under the elastic, drawing it back to harshly snap back. Steve lets out a little yelp and Eddie chases the noise with his lips.

“You know you can call it off at any time sweetheart.” Eddie mumbles against Steve's lips.

The giggle he elicits is oh so sweet. “I know, Eds. I’m fine. Are you sure you don’t want to call it off?”

“More than anything.” He growls, his hips bucking up particularly forcefully. Steve groans and throws his head back, meeting his thrusts with fervor of his own.

“Keep it in your pants, Munson. I haven’t said the magic word yet.”

“Oh, so now it’s a magic word?”

“It is now that I know you want it so bad.”

Eddie has to hold back and honest to god growl at that, fighting the urge to strip him down in the middle of the dance floor and take him here and now. Suddenly his hands aren’t the only ones on Steve and he has to fight the urge to start swinging before taking in the context of the situation.

“Woah, easy there killer,” Robin laughs at him and he eases instantly. He finds almost as much comfort in her as Steve (almost. They all know no one could ever love the two of them the way they love each other). “Hey, so I’m going to head out with Chrissy. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Have a good night Robs.” Steve turns his head and plasters on a beaming smile and shoots her a wink. She leans in close and whispers something in Steve’s ear and he laughs, leaning away from Eddie. Robin skips away from them, meeting up with Chrissy at the door, conspiratorial smiles on both of their lips.

Eddie grabs Steve’s waist to pull him in, but he pulls away with a smirk.

“What? What did Robin say?” Eddie asks.

“Oh nothing, just that we should probably get out of here if we don’t want to cum in our pants like teenagers.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and pulls Steve close, but they both know it’s not to chase pleasure from each other. They just hold each other, warm in each other's embrace and sway for a couple more songs.

“You want to get out of here? Somebody told me you wanted to relax in front of the TV tonight.”

“Yes. Please,” Eddie sighs, leaning his forehead against Steve’s.

He loves a night out with Steve, but a night in is just as perfect.

@steddievember

[boop-le-snoot]

@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

main masterlist ☀️ taglist

emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

[sanzuslvt]

Her|| PT one

pairings: dom fem reader, fem sakura tags: lesbian sex, some degrading, cheating, mentions of mommy

a/n: I'm gonna make another part to this I don't know when but its gonnainclude a threesom so be prepared 

wordcount 1.6k

The sudden closeness between sakura and Y/N was weird, but no one really questioned it. Sakura had a boyfriend and everyone thought you were straight. So the friendship that arose suddenly was pretty normal between you two. You were Naruto and Sasuke's roommate after all. In reality sakura was your secret lover and you were hers secret affair she wasnt gay but when she met you all of her feeling towards women poured into the passion you two shared especially in bed.

When did this all start. It was on the day that naruto and sasuke went on a mission together sakura was incharge of the hospital so she couldn't join them but she had yet to meet. Y/N. Sakura planned to go to Naruto and Sasuke's apartment to surprise them when they get back especially since she started dating Sasuke but instead she was met with the sexiest surprise she could get. As she knocked on the door, Y/N opened the door. She wore a black sports bra with a fishnet shirt covering the abs so eagerly picked out the holes in the fishnets. The sweats that she wore shaped her muscular thighs and her prominent waist making her seem irresistible.

Even the scars on her lower abdomen made y/n even more sexy then she was. Sakura was eyeing y/n down like this was the last time that she saw her, and all that she knew was that she wanted her. When y/n noticed who was at the door she smirked in delight she looked down at the adorable, blushing, petite, and but muscular woman below her she saw the way that she eyed her figure. All she knew was that sasuke was one lucky mother fucker.

“If you're gonna stare at least come in '' y/n said bringing all of the attention from sakura's daydream to a rushing halt.

“I'm so sorry i didn't expect you to be here” sakura said quietly

In your mind you knew what was coming and you know it would be hot

“Sakura chan why don't you come in? You're here for sasuke but he will probably be in, in about 45 minutes. Why don't you wait for him with me inside?”

y/n opened the door allowing a space for sakura to walk through she knew that sakura felt the tension that she did and she knew that the 45 minutes they shared would be fun. Sakura walked into the small apartment with about 3 rooms and 2 restrooms. The kitchen was almost spotless and it was extremely clean. She knew naruto and sasuke could never keep the room this clean so it must have been y/n. The way that Sakura could feel the stare on her body from behind was both extremely attractive and extremely nerve wracking. The tension in the air brought arousal to her panties and made her feel like the most special girl out there.

Sasuke was a good lover but he want passionate when he had sex with her it felt like her body wasnt being satisfied. As a kid Sakura loved Sasuke and it isn't wrong that she still does but the thought of him being her lover doesn't make her as excited as it used to. She loves him but she can't find the passion she used to. When sakura sat on the couch with y/n and saw the way that y/n carried herself it brought a spark to her stomach and gave her butterflies. The way she sat and the way that she talked it all turned her on. 

“So sakura… how are things going with sasuke. I know he is such a dick but he never stops talking about you.”

 “Its alright i haven't seen him in awhile so i was waiting for him to come back from his mission” sakura said while frowning almost like it really did make her sad that he wasn't there This brought visual disappointment to y/n face. She knew he was neglectful but she never thought he was like this to her. Sakura was so sexy with her beautiful figure and toned body. Even her beautifully shaped ass. How could he not be so attached to her like a leech. At that moment the animalistic urge took over y/n and she scooted close to Sakura. She put her hand on her toned but thick thigh and squeezed. Then she took her other hand and grabbed her chin bringing her face closer. At the sudden touch sakura moaned small but recognizable and this small gesture of arousal brought the grin to Y/N’s face. “Sakura when was the last time sasuke pleased you mhm” 

“Umm I don't know, '' Sakura said, flushed but the sudden touch of this fine woman she just met.y/n leaned in slower and slower till her lips were barley grazing sakura and then she went past and whispered in her ears.

“Sakura I think you do know you are scared of what's going to happen if you tell me. Because if you do, I'm just going to want to please you even more… Now tell me when was the last time Sasuke really fucked you.”

The sentence that y/n spoke to sakura was the last breaking point, the amount of sexual frustration that she had built up all into this one moment and she sprung on top of y/n capturing her lips on hers. The swift movement of y/n’s hands on sakura's body felt like an electric shock. Sakura was on top of y/n making out with her straddling her hips looking for friction and their kissing slowed but the passion in their makeout was different from everything sasuke gave her Sakura she could feel y/n touching ever peice of her that she could offer and Sakura wanted to feel good better the. has ever felt. “y/n this is wrong what if sasuke walls in.”

 sakura said separating from y/n’s lips and breathing hard from the lack of air “I can sense his presence from a mile away. We have time to get ready, and I have the time to make you feel so much pleasure when you're screaming my name.” As soon as y/n said that she flipped sakura on her back and held her down by her hips grinding into her heat. “Im going to fuck you harder then sasuke has ever fucked you” y/n then pulled her shirt down to reveal sakuras beautiful collar bones and tits that. They weren’t big but they were perfect and sat perfectly “look at you sakura you are so beautiful if you were mine i would never stop touching you” y/n leaned down grabbing sakuras skin in her mouth sucking on it untill she was littered with purple marks on her chest and boobs sucking on her sensitive nipples of course they were in places where no one could see but slowly y/n made her way to sakuras pants. “y/n are you sure we can do this” “sakura we already are doing it” y/n then swiftly rubbed circles into sakura's clothed clit making sakura yelp

 “Sakura baby, you have to stay quiet for me. You don't want the neighbors hearing do you?” sakura slowly nodded no covering her mouth with her hand “good girl now help me take these pants off you love” y/n tears of sakura's pants are thrown to the side looking at the damp spot in sakura's panties. “Mhm you're really such a slut for me aren't you. Getting this over your boyfriend's roommate. You are such a bad girl for me aren't you” sakura covered her face in embarrassment by y/n’s words but another reason was to shield the fact that y/n’s degradation turned her on more than anything. 

y/n licked a smooth line up sakura's panties and made her way up to the hem of her undergarments pulling them down with her teeth she saw the mess that sakura was inside of her panties and this excited y/n more then anything. She grabbed sakura by her knees and pulled her legs apart staring at the beautiful heat oozing from her cunt. y/n then brought one finger to her cunt massaging her clit. Making sakura yelp is a pleasure. y/n then whispered in her ear. “do you want mommy to fuck you? You have to tell me or I wont know baby, I need you to tell mommy what you want.`` Sakura then said “please use your tongue. I want mommy to fuck me with her mouth.” y/n smirked from the sudden passiveness coming from sakura's mouth. 

She knew sakura was going to be a good fuck. And so she did what her baby asked for. Y/n brought herself lower on the couch to her crotch and grabbed Sakura's knees pulling them over her shoulders. She then placed her tongue flat on her slit and licked one strip up. Sakura tasted so good to y/n the sweetness from her cunt made her want to feast on her forever the way that sakuras moans filled the apartment and the way the sakura bucked her pussy on y/ns mouth almost fucking herself with y/n was so hot it made y/n moan on the spot.Sakura was so amazing that y/n nearly didn't notice the faint chakra of naruto and sasuke coming. 

she could tell that sakura was close and a few more minutes and sakura would be creaming in her mouth. But the boundary that sakura wanted was important so y/n pulled aways and told sakura ``looks like our time is up baby lets get dressed i'll take care of you when i have more time. Quickly Naruto and Sasuke came through the door. Sakura was dressed and tried to get up to hug sasuke. But when she got up she stubbled. y/n caught her in her arms making her secure “that was a close one baby try to walk for me�� you dont want your boyfriend finding out whos really fucking you”. 

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

The Second-Hand Bookstore

Credit for idea goes to @starry-knight-skies. I also got a bit carried away with it, oops.

Summary: Logan owns a  bookstore in a small town. Virgil is a vampire. Nuff said.

Word Count:  2,219

Main Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01​​​ @spoopy-turtle​​​ @lizluvscupcakes​​ @more-fandon-than-friends​, @i-cant-find-a-good-username, @vindicatedvirgil, @star-crossed-shipper, @justaqueercactus

Logan walked down the stairs and did a once over of the store. He checked the shelves for dust, made sure any misplaced books were put back, and that everything was generally where it should be. He did this routine every time he closed up as well but never knew if his exhaustion clouded his judgement or if he missed anything. Being ready for business, he went and unlocked the front door.

The shop was a little out of the way second-hand bookstore so he didn’t expect many visitors so early in the morning. Only, there was a customer that came in almost as soon as Logan sat down behind the cash register.

The man was dressed in black jeans, a black hoodie with purple patches and white stitching, and a ripped purple shirt. His hood was up when he walked in and he didn’t even seem to pause to adjust his eyes, he just went straight to browsing. Having nothing better to do, Logan watched the customer. 

The man ran his hand along the spines in a way that both suggested he was looking for something but also that he was greeting old friends. Logan wondered if the man had read any of them before. The man walked deeper, a smile flitting across his face as he saw some of the titles. He chuckled at one point, pulling a book off the shelf with a muttered, “I didn’t know this still existed.”

Logan smiled, loathe to break the silence. The book was put back on the shelf as the man continued wandering down the aisle. He got to the back section where Logan kept the older books and his posture changed. He seemed to gain more energy and Logan could imagine his eyes lighting up. His fingers ran along the spines in a gentle and loving way that made Logan think of greeting long lost friends or family unseen for a while.

The door rang and Logan turned, ready to help the next customer. Thoughts of the other customer were pushed to the back of his mind as he was told of a specific book this one was looking for. Logan had to order it but told them it would be there soon. 

When his attention returned to the back aisles, the stranger wasn’t there. Logan’s eyes scanned the tiny store for him, sure he hadn’t gone out the door. He found him curled up in the corner chair, a content smile on his face as he read the book in his hands. Logan wasn’t close enough to read the title.

The day went on and Logan kept up with the now steady trickle of customers coming in. He paid no mind to the customer at the back who was steadily working his way through Logan’s whole astronomy section. That is, until he went on his lunch break and approached the man. 

Logan smiled. “Hi, I couldn’t help but see that you’re going through the whole section on stars.”

The man looked up, a sheepish expression on his pale face. He had dark bags under his eyes that suggested he got little sleep the night before. “Sorry, is that not allowed?”

Logan shook his head. “No, it’s perfectly fine. I was just wondering if you wanted to come talk about constellations while I grab lunch.”

His eyes widened as he put the book down, not even bothering to mark his place. “Really?”

Logan nodded. “Only if you want to.”

He nodded, standing to dwarf Logan by a few inches. Logan led the way out the door, turning the sign to lunch break and locking the door on the way out. “Do you have a preference for a place to eat?”

The man paused, a brief expression of panic crossing his face before it smoothed out. “No, I don’t.”

Logan nodded, humming thoughtfully as they walked down the street. “How about Subway?”

Thus, they sat in a booth and talked about the stars, bonding over the stories they knew of them and laughing when they came up with ones for the constellations they forgot. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil had entered that bookstore that day to get out of the morning sun that stung his eyes. He hadn’t expected to find a spectacled man sitting at a counter, following him with his eyes. He hadn’t expected to run across books written by friends, written by him under a different name. Books that felt like friends simply because of the part of his life he was going through when he’d read it. His mind wandered back to his father’s words, spoken so long ago now: “If you keep your memories in books, you will never forget.” 

Out of all the books, he hadn’t expected to run into ones he’d owned at one point in his life, hadn’t expected to be able to pull it off the shelf and read the notes he’d scribbled into the margins, to see the tear stains on some of the pages, hadn’t expected to be hit with the smell of books that never changes, no matter what century he was in. 

He hadn’t expected to take the trip down memory lane right into his old profession, to be met with almost a wall of books written about stars. He smiled, eyes lighting with a life he hadn’t felt in a long time, and browsed. He saw books written by long dead colleagues, himself, teachers, mentors, students of his, students of his students, and so on. 

He hadn’t expected to be coming face to face with the charming man at the counter, who had been watching him the whole time, asking if he wanted to go eat lunch with him. He didn’t have the heart to tell him he couldn’t eat anymore, just went along with it for the sake of seeing him smile again the way he saw out of the corner of his eye. 

When asked for his preference for a place to eat his eyes grew wide at the thought of ‘the park’ that sprang to his mind. 

He surely didn’t expect to come back, this time in a leather jacket covering a shirt of a band that had long since broken up, purple fishnet gloves and sunglasses perched on his head, all paired with the same jeans as before. He didn’t expect to be spending most of the day talking with Logan, didn’t expect to be purchasing a bunch of the astronomy books he’d written a hundred years ago. 

When he had walked down those stairs and through the door into that store that day to get out of the heat, he had expected very few things. In return, he managed to gain so much more. He had shut himself off from people after the last person he’d thought was his friend had tried to sell him for his fangs. 

He found himself growing closer to Logan, smiling in his presence, almost showing his fangs multiple times. He enjoyed talking with him to the point that he almost let his guard down. He didn’t notice how close they’d gotten until he found himself sitting on a couch, an old show running in the background as Logan was curled up against his side, fast asleep. There were times when Virgil missed the need for sleep, the slipping into oblivion for a few precious hours, but right now he wouldn’t give up his vampiric nature for the world.

He felt Logan shift against him, settling deeper against his side. Virgil stretched his arm out, being careful to not move the rest of his body. He picked up the remote to turn the television off, grabbing the book sitting beside it before settling back into his seat. One arm was slung over Logan’s back and he unconsciously started rubbing his back, fingers threading through Logan’s hair as he read by the dim light of the lamp next to him. 

A few more weeks passed and Virgil knew he should start to get moving again. He normally didn’t like staying in the same place for long, the centuries he’d lived having instilled a wanderlust in him. His only regret at this point was having to leave Logan. He’d grown fond of the human in their time together, to the point that his heart stuttered sometimes when he saw him.

He was all packed and ready to go, his motorcycle waiting on the curb. Yet, here he was, standing in front of the door to Logan’s second-hand bookstore. He took a deep breath and pushed it open, listening to the jingle of the bell for maybe the last time. “Logan?” He called when he didn’t see him at the front desk.

“Back here!” His voice answered from the back room. 

Virgil followed and found himself in the back room. He walked over and took the box Logan was struggling to lift. “Where do you need it?”

Logan huffed, hands resting on the small of his back. “In the front, I need to reload some of the shelves.” Virgil just nodded and did as he was told.

He put it off, spending more and more time with Logan until the sun had set, the perfect time to be on the open road, and Logan was inviting him up for a dinner he couldn’t eat. He sat at the table, hands reaching to twist the tablecloth between his fingers, trying to get out the anxious energy he could feel building up in his gut. Finally, he took a steadying breath and spoke. “I’m leaving tonight.”

Logan turned to look at him, playfulness dancing in his eyes behind his glasses. “I didn’t intend for you to stay the night.”

Virgil shook his head, feeling bravery mix with the anxiety. “I mean, I’m leaving town tonight.”

Logan paused, turning the burner off before coming to stand beside Virgil. “Why?”

Virgil shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Logan nodded, resting a hand on the table. “Is it something I did?”

Virgil was quick to shake his head, even as he felt his walls try to rebuild to brace against the heartbreak he knew was coming. “No, of course not. It’s nothing either of us did. It’s just something that happens every once in a while.”

Logan hesitated. He swallowed and Virgil tried not to show that his eyes were drawn to the vein in his neck. After a long pause, Logan spoke. “If this is about you being a vampire, I already know.”

Virgil startled, his head jerking back just a bit. “How?”

Logan chuckled, eyes rising to lock with Virgil’s own. “How many spoons do I have?”

Virgil didn’t even have to think about it. “Twenty five.”

Logan nodded. “The compulsion to count arbitrary things, the lack of actual eating, you always being awake no matter when I wake up if you stay over.” He sighed, exasperated. “Virgil, you came in with blood still on your chin one time, for goodness sake!”

Virgil swiped at his chin, checking for blood there. Eventually, he nodded, moving to stand. “Alright. I guess I should be going then.”

Logan put a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him down into the chair. “Why are you trying to leave me? I just told you I don’t care that you’re a vampire.”

Virgil huffed, leaning forward to put his forearms on the table. “I don’t age as fast as you do, Logan. By the time you’re old, I’ll only look a few years older than I do now. Besides, people will be suspicious that I don’t age.” He held up a hand, pausing whatever thought Logan was going to share. “Before you say it, I can’t just turn you. You’d be able to be with me, yes, but you’d also have to move every few decades as well. You’d never see this bookstore again. Is that what you really want? To move like you’re on the run, having to watch your every step?” Virgil shook his head, letting his bangs fall into his face. “I don’t want that for you.”

Logan put a hand over Virgil’s. “What if I could give you a reason to stay?”

Virgil looked up at him, hope bubbling below the surface, desperate to breach. “What do you mean?”

Logan smiled. “You do realize that half this town is full of vampires, right?”

Virgil leaned toward him, hand gripping his gentle but forceful at once. “Explain.”

“Half of the town is vampires, the other half is humans that know of them. Heck, my own great uncle is still here and he doesn’t look older than I do. Why do you think my store has such old books? People still read them, still enjoy them. None of them treasure them the way you do, nor do they greet them like old friends like you do, but they still remember the books from their times as humans. I want to be with you, Virgil. You don’t have to leave, you don’t have to run anymore.”

Virgil felt tears gather at the corners of his eyes as the realization that this could be home set in. Logan's arms came around his shoulders, offering comfort. Virgil smiled through his tears. “You’d really have me?”

A kiss was pressed to his temple. “Fangs and all.”

Virgil chuckled. “Fangs and all.” He echoed softly.

[eventidespirits]

Name: Laci Lydia Brighton-Lee

Nicknames/Aliases: None.

True Age: 41

Apparent Age: 22

Emotional Age: 6-22 (average of about 13-17)

Concept: Age Sliding Oracle

Species: Vampire (Revenant)

Gender: Cis Girl

Sexuality: Asexual Heteroromantic

Birthday: January 8th 1976

Death Day: October 31st 1998

Residence: Santa Marta, California

Universe: Primarily Original Universe but also Vampire the Masquerade (where she is Clan Malkavian).

Appearance:

Height: 4'7

Build: Petite and quite thin, Laci looks almost frail to most people and can be easily mistaken for a teen or preteen. She has a short torso and long limbs for her height.

Face Shape: Laci has a rounded face with a pointed chin, full cheeks and high cheekbones.

Eye Color/Shape: bright amber/Hazel. Deep-set with heavy, almost droopy eyelids and very thick lashes. Laci usually has a sort of sleepy look to her eyes, accentuated by her permanent dark circles and under eye bags.

Hair Color/Style: About shoulder length with a natural 2B/2C curl pattern. Her hair is naturally black but she has a badly bleached portion in the front that looks bright orange. Has very short, somewhat uneven bangs and her hair is a little shorter in the front than the back. Usually worn up in pigtails or twin buns.

Skin Tone/Texture: Unnaturally smooth and pale with an under-saturated yellow undertone. Doesn't look particularly healthy.

Distinguishing Features: Laci is very short and this is usually the first thing people notice about her -- she also has very large, expressive eyes. She has both eyebrows pierced, a nostril piercing on her left side and snakebites. Both ears have triple lobe piercings and two helix piercings.

Posture: Depends on her current emotional age but as a general rule, Laci's posture is somewhat folded in on herself, somewhat shy and insecure. When she's at an older emotional age, her posture is more confident and open. Laci's body language is dreamy and distant, her steps usually slow and unsure. She walks through the world like she's in an endless dream.

Voice: Somewhat nasal but with a distinct huskiness/vocal fry -- her actual pitch is somewhat higher and definitely comes across as a little bit childish.

Clothing Style: Laci is very much a goth -- she's almost always wearing at least one piece of clothing with mesh or fishnet (she doesn't like lace as much) -- the primary colors in her wardrobe are black, charcoal gray and purple, with occasional hints of neon green. She prefers pants and shorts with tights over skirts and dresses. She tends to prefer lays -- wearing tank tops over mesh shirts under hooded sweat shirts and so on. She has a fondness for collars and very high platform boots. An average outfit for Laci would be a pair of shorts with striped tights and knee-high socks, 4 inch platform boots, a mesh shirt under a tank top and a short sleeved hoodie with several bracelets, fingerless gloves and a collar of some sort.

Notable Mannerisms: Laci is often chewing on her lower lip or playing with her piercings. She often curls her hair around her fingers or plays with the hem of her short. Despite being a vampire and getting no real benefit or harm from it, Laci still smokes clove cigarettes (a habit she had as a human). Laci also has a tendency to sort of bounce in place when she's bored.

Skills:

Physical: Self-Defense, gymnastics, pickpocketing, small firearms

Social: Social Media, Bullshitting, Sweet-talking, Blame-Shifting, Persuasion

Talents: breaking & entering, stealth, being cute, dancing

Knowledges: Santa Marta Underground, Streets & Back Alleys, Hacking, Computers, Social Media manipulation, explosives, Revenant Signs & Grafitti

Hobbies: Pickpocketing assholes at cafes/coffeeshops, preventing the apocalypse, clubbing, coloring books, dancing, photography/instagram

Special: The Sight, precognition, increased speed & strength, darkvision/nightsight, some minor telepathy/empathy, some emotional influence, "immortality"

Psyche

Strengths: Clever, quick-witted, good at lying, adaptive, quick-learner, strong sense of justice, compassionate, sweet, dedicated/tenacious, in touch with her emotions, good with kids, generally empathetic

Weaknesses: overly-emotional, immature, irresponsible, stubborn, impatient, overly curious, has trouble understanding rationality, has difficulty understanding the motives/perspectives of others even if she can understand their feelings, hot-headed, prone to fits of mania and/or depression, way too fucking blunt at times, bad at explaining herself, bad at understanding her own motives at times.

Mental Health Issues: Bipolar Disorder, Age Regression, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Possible ADHD?

Goals: Stop the God-Damned Apocalypse, have fun, make friends, help people

Guiding Philosophies: Do your best to preserve life but know that in the end you'll have to hurt people to stop the apocalypse, try your best to make people laugh and improve their lives, make the world a better place, punish evil whenever you see it, offer help to the helpless and compassion to the weak and downtrodden of society, bash the fash

Sense of Humor: Laci delights in pulling pranks on her friends or making absolutely random, inane comments that leave others confused. She also likes puns and dumb memes.

Overall Personality:Chaotic and trickster-ish. Laci is an enigma to most of the people around her, often including herself. She is bright and spontaneous most of the time but can become somber and serious at the drop of a hat. Her general mood and energy are frantic, high energy and unpredictable. When she comes to care about someone, she's incredibly protective of them to the extent that she can be and will do about anything to make them happy or keep them safe.

Deep down, Laci is frustrated with her inability to remember most of her human life and desperately wishes she could regain it -- however, most of her efforts are currently focused on preventing the Awakening of a being she knows only as The Myriad Eyes, which Laci believes will cause the end of the world if it does wake from it's slumber. Her methods of doing so are...erratic and often nonsensical due to her lack of general knowledge about the thing, seeing only glimpses of it through her precognition and sight.

Little Laci: Mostly the same as Big Laci (described above) but less able to focus on her goals, more dependent on others and more emotional.

-In Love: Laci can't remember being in love. She knows vaguely that she was dating someone who had broken up with her just before she became a vampire but more than that is blurry. When she does crush on someone (which is rare) she's usually very shy around them, having difficulty speaking and becoming very awkward (think moe anime girl)

-Under Stress: Erratic, irritable and far more emotional than usual. Laci becomes inconsolably upset when under stress very quickly -- prone to lashing out in anger and having complete breaks from reality of the stress is severe enough. Stress is also the number one trigger for Laci's age regression, the more intense the stress, the further back she slides.

-Alone: Laci doesn't really get to be alone due to being haunted by her best friend as a human who she accidentally killed after her Change...When it's just Laci and Amy, Laci can be very quiet and withdrawn, just focusing on whatever task is at hand and desperately hoping Amy doesn't decide to cause any problems.

Life

Best Memory: Becoming part of the Revenant Vampire Community under Santa Marta

Worst Memory: Waking up after being Changed and killing her best friend.

Biggest Accomplishment: Hitting 100 cellphones stolen from assholes at Eventide Coffee

Prized Possession: her spiderweb mug

Favorite Color: Black, Purple, Lime Green

Favorite Food:

-Mortal Food: Mocha Frappe, Triple Chocolate Muffins, Cherry Soda, Monster Energy, Tiramisu, Fried Oreos

-Blood: She doesn't care, all the bagged stuff tastes like shit anyway.

Favorite Scents: Cloves, Cotton Candy, Bubblegum, Gunpowder, Fresh Coffee, Freshly Baked Bread, Coconut, Vanilla, Lime, Grapefruit

Favorite Songs: Hunger - Ayria, The Girl Anachronism - Dresden Dolls, I'm So Sick - Flyleaf, Counting Bodies Like Sheep - A Perfect Circle, Looking Glass - The Birthday Massacre, Placebo Effect - Siouxsie and the Banshees, Amnesia - Mind.In.A.Box

Can’t Leave Home Without: Her phone, her cigarette case, a few packets of blood

History

Birthplace: Santa Marta, California

Childhood:: Laci can remember her fifth birthday where she had her first vision of the future and of the party being ended prematurely. She also remembers starting therapy at twelve.

Adolescence: Laci remembers her first day of middle school -- which went rather badly, remembers going to anti-prom and getting kicked out of her parents' house at 18.

Adulthood: What little Laci can remember of her adulthood, she was working as a barista at a local coffee shop while working with a group of friends on a local anarchist zine. She was dating one of the editors on the zine until he cheated on her and broke up with her on October 20th 1998. During a manic episode that followed, she cut her hair and bleached her bangs (with the intent of dyeing them purple). She and her best friend were kidnapped by a vampire outside a local goth club on Halloween.The vampire would turn Laci and leave Amy in the room with her to kill during her first feeding. The trauma of her change (which occurred fully within only three hours) and subsequently murdering her best friend seems to have induced age regression and severe amnesia in Laci. She cannot recall the name or appearance of her Sire or even the majority of her life, outside of small snippets from here and there.

Recent: Laci has been living in Santa Marta in the Revenant Community since they found her in 2002. It's not sure if she's actually part of the Revenant bloodline or not but they don't really care about that. She's got a small apartment in Bram Park, not far from the Sidetracks bar, which contains one of the main entrances to the Underground.

Relationships

Family: Sanity (Adopted Sister, a fellow vampire)

Lovers: None

Friends: Art ??? (a local hacker and vampire), Alex Hyde (Revenant Vampire, clubbing and goth buddy), Louis DeFantome (Siren Vampire, local goth artist), Maggie Rodriguez (Local Witch)

Enemies: Amy (Ghost, haunting), Ella DuChamps (Local cultist), The Myriad Eyes (???)

Acquaintances: ???

Resources

Income: Working Poor

Vehicles: None

Residences: A 1br/1ba apartment in the attic of a Victorian house that's been converted into a triplex in the Bram Park neighborhood.

[snarkwrites]

summer sizzle | disaster, steve harrington [m]

[ prompts used ]

** again, all of these were found on different lists across the internet. literally none of them belong to me and i will have to try finding the lists these all came from at some point. credits to anyone who made these prompt lists **

Disaster + “S-stop staring at me like that!” + Say My Name + comfort sex + One Small Kiss, Pulling Away For An Instant, Then Devouring Each Other

[ authors notes ]

This is the alternate universe to my whole thing with Steve and Charlotte. At some point, I do plan to write an actual fic for them. In the meantime, I’m gonna build things up through one shots and stuff. If anyone’s curious, pls ask away, my ask box is open.

[ warnings ]

18+ only. All children, leave the room. I repeat, all children, leave the room. underage drinking a lil bit, biting / leaving hickies, body fluids, oral [ both parties give and recieve ], protected sex and that’s pretty much it.

[ pairing / fandom ]

steve harrington x ofc, charlotte granger

[ tagging ]

@rampagewriting​​ | @chasingeverybreakingwave​​

[ tag list - masterlist - about my writing ]

                                     D I S A S T E R - steve harrington x ofc,

“You really should slow down with that.” Steve popped up beside me and it only made me that much more determined to chug the bottle of rum in my hands. If I had alcohol in my mouth, I didn’t have to try conversing. I didn’t risk just grabbing his face in my hands and laying a kiss on him that would only result in making everything even more awkward between the two of us than it already is.

I sat the bottle down on the tabletop firmly, wiping at my mouth with the back of my hand as I swayed a little to the music. I could feel the rabbit ears on my headband slipping and I swore, reaching up. Steve swatted my hands away and reached over, fixing the way they stood, bending one of them ever so slightly. He stepped a little closer, the limited space between us filling with heavy tension.

It seemed to do that a lot lately.

He nodded to the crowded party. “I thought you came with Byers to pick up Nancy.”

I shrugged and raised the bottle to my lips, taking another drink, swallowing it down before I answered quietly, “I decided to stay. I didn’t want to feel like a third wheel on my own date.”

As neutral as I tried to sound when saying it, I failed miserably. The sarcasm laced into my words and Steve’s head tilted slightly as he just… stared at me. Like he was in deep thought and dazed.

“If you’re going to be weird, I’m going to go do keg stands.” I muttered the words quietly and took a step forward. That step put me body to body with Steve whose hands immediately settled on my hips as his eyes roamed and he didn’t bother trying to hide it.

“Bad date?” Steve asked, giving me a bit of a weak smile as our eyes met.

I snorted. “More like a complete fucking disaster from the word go.”

Steve snickered and I pouted at him, lips poking out.

“I’m glad to see my sheer misery makes you laugh. Asshole.” I started to try and side step but he stopped me, staring deep into my eyes again and not saying anything.

Until finally, he did. Pulling me closer because a crowd rushed past, whooping and hollering because someone was about to do keg stands again in the next room. I blew at a bright red strand of loose bangs that flopped into my eye and tilted my head slightly, looking at him.

“It’s not your misery, okay? I was laughing cos..” Steve trailed off, eyes settling fixed on the floor beneath our feet. I raised a brow and honestly, I meant to just walk away, beyond done with the night by this point, but something about the way he fell silent had my interest piqued.

“Why?” I asked the question as my hand settled on my hip. Steve was staring at the black velvet strapless bodysuit I was wearing, at the fishnets covering my legs, anything but my actual face. Distracted, as usual. I rolled my eyes and cleared my throat impatiently.

“ The fact that Nancy just broke up with me. I don’t know, I guess it’s just my reaction to a shitty night.” the explanation sounded feeble, but I said nothing.

It hit me then, what he’d just said.

I eyed him in concern, going quiet. I took a few big back to back sips of the rum in my hand and gritted my teeth, shaking my head all over again at the burn as I glanced at the bottle for a second or two, just to keep from staring at him like an ass, as is my tendency as of late.

And yes, I feel like the world’s most horrible friend for it.

“They say this stuff goes down smoother the more you sip it. I call bullshit.” I mumbled, mostly to myself, mostly just to keep that heavy tension from creeping back in between Steve and I all over again.

Steve reached for the bottle and raised it to his lips, shotgunning a generous portion as he shrugged.

“Fucking show off.” I grumbled, reaching for the bottle and nearly falling forward as I did so.

Steve stepped closer, hands at my side after sitting the bottle of rum down on the table nearby. “Are you alright?”

“Shh. Don’t kill my buzz.” I held a finger to his lips as I giggled a little bit. Someone put on Aerosmith and I bounced on my feet a little, grinning from ear to ear about it. When my eyes met his again, he was staring at me, an almost thoughtful expression on his face.

“S-stop staring at me like that!” I drawled, starting to sway my hips a little to the song playing in the background.

“What if I don’t wanna?” Steve practically mumbled the question, his gaze growing more intent. Roaming even more. Lingering on my body just long enough to set my body to burning immediately.

I threw my head back and laughed at what he said, the laughter dying on my lips as my eyes met his again and I realized that he wasn’t joking. He had his most serious facial expression on. And he was stepping closer, towering over me just  barely. Fingertips digging into the thin black velvet fabric covering my body.  His hips rubbing right against mine, making me swallow hard and sort of melt into him just so I didn’t have to look at him and increase the risk of him figuring out exactly what he was doing to me at the moment.

“Tonight is really a disaster, huh?” I managed to mumble, mostly for lack of anything better to say and wanting to vanquish the tension before it got so fucking thick I couldn’t breathe. I could already feel my legs getting a little  more wobbly, my thighs getting just a little slippery. Just the thought of him… In that way… had me burning up all over in a heated blush for at least the tenth time since he’d wandered over an hour or two ago.

I’ve shoved this thing down so deep that now that it’s bubbling up to the surface, it takes literally all my willpower from stopping it.

Steve continued to stare, his gaze fixing on my lips as he licked his own. He swallowed hard and my eyes settled on the way his throat bobbed. I did my best not to indulge myself and imagine dancing my lips down his throat.

“The night’s not over yet.” his voice almost sounded husky. Laced with something I couldn’t quite figure out.

When he finally said it, he was standing so close that I was pressed against him, bodies rubbing together lightly. Mostly to steady myself in the stupid heels I chose to wear with my costume, I raised my arms, wrapping them around his neck.

“True, but.. Our dates did leave together.” I pointed out the fact, sighing quietly. I mean… I’m the one who told Jonathan to worry about getting Nancy home safe, that I wanted to stay and hang out with Briar and a few of the other girls and that I’d be fine.

,, you told him to leave you because maybe you’re starting to realize that he’s more into Nancy. So you’re cutting your losses.” my brain reminded me. I literally have no reason to be bitter right now, and yet.. Here I go.

Between Nancy dating Steve even knowing our history and how I had a crush on him and how tense things were when he stopped being friends with me.. And her suddenly having so much to do with Jonathan right when I’ve decided that maybe it’s time to let go of old crushes… I’d almost swear she was doing it deliberately if I didn’t know otherwise.

“I told Nancy to go.” Steve admitted, shrugging a little, a weak smile as he looked down at me. “She didn’t wanna be here with me anyway.”

I bit my lip, nodding at him as I found my own eyes settling on thick lips. Lips I desperately wanted to kiss.

My fingertips seemed to grow minds of their own, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

In the room behind us, the noise seemed to grow, people were getting rowdier. But all I could do was continue to stare,  trying to figure out why he’d even come over to me in the first place.

“Honestly, I could tell Jonathan had other things on his mind tonight. I was just in the way.” I shrugged it off and took a deep breath. More people pushed past us, putting us even closer together. I bit back a quiet whimper and felt myself starting to blush. He chuckled and gazed down at me a few seconds, that look in his eye all over again.

“What? Do I have lipstick on my teeth?” I asked the question and raised my hand, prepared to wipe at my mouth. This red lipstick, while pretty, was a huge pain in my ass. But it made the costume seem even more appropriate… Or inappropriate. Whatever.

“No, I was just thinking.. Something Nancy said after she broke up with me and called basically everything about us bullshit before demanding to leave… About you.”

I swallowed hard, my breath catching in my  throat, but as best as I could, I tried to downplay. To feign an air of total neutrality. My best blank look on my face, casual.. Appearing not to be affected by Steve and his.. Everything.

“Yeah?” I asked, walking a finger up and down the front of his black button front shirt. He squirmed slightly and kept staring down at me intently, letting his gaze drop to my finger for a lingering distracted few seconds. The tension in the air was getting so much thicker. I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t deny it.

Shit, did I sound breathless? The thought came but I shoved it out, clearing my throat, guiding his gaze so that he had to look at me. “What’d she say?” I finally managed to ask the question, trying to steer this whole… Bizarre moment away from the heavy tension it was fast approaching.

“It wasn’t anything bad.” Steve said it quickly and I bit my lip, waiting.

“After she told me that everything was bullshit, she told me that I was with the wrong girl and I’m kind of…” he trailed off again, leaning down, his face getting closer to mine. My breath caught again and this time, I didn’t try hiding the fact. “Yeah?” the word came quick and clumsy as my face inched closer to his.

And my lips promptly brushed against the corner of his mouth clumsily. I drew back quick but his hands caught on either side of my face, pulling my lips directly back to his. “Where are you goin, hm?” he half growled the question against my lips as his mouth crashed against and hungrily devoured mine. One of his hands dragged up my back, catching in my hair, tangling in it as he gripped the back of my head and his other hand rested on my cheek, a thumb trailing lazily along my cheek after the kiss broke.

We slowly pulled apart, staring at one another wide eyed. He was quick to lean back in, chuckling as he bit his bottom lip and stared hungrily at mine a second or two. “She was right. It has always been you, I just…” he dragged his hand through his hair as he took several shaky breaths.

It suddenly seemed to occur to him just how little I was wearing and the next thing I knew, he was shedding his blazer and putting it around me, even going as far as to button a few buttons.

“Steve.” I whined, pouting up at him as he shook his head no. “No, nope. That costume is, “ he gestured to me, “Too fucking much. What are you supposed to be anyway?”

“A bunny.” I was intentionally being vague. Honestly, I figured he’d put two and two together.

Apparently, he did not.

“I’ve been wearing this the entire time you’ve been standing here and you’re just now seeing it? Ya know.. If I were easily offended, I could take offense to that. I happen to like it. And it belonged to my grandma Ginger.” I did a little twirl to sort of show off the costume, maybe rubbing it in just a little.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.. Bunnies are covered in fur and their noses wiggle, Charlotte. That is.. Fuck me, it is something, alright...” he was tugging at his hair again and gazing down at me and I succumbed to the fit of giggles that had been threatening to take over for at least a minute or two by this point.

Typical Steve… Getting so caught in a moment that he really doesn’t notice his surroundings until he does. Then he’s in sheer awe or shock.

“Anyway, I was in the middle of something.” Steve was trying to get whatever he was making an attempt to say out and I stood there, head tilted slightly, watching him and barely hiding the little smile I had as I did it. “You were, if you’d kindly just get to it.”

“Maybe we could do this outside? Where I can hear myself think?” Steve pleaded and I gave a nod. I honestly assumed he’d let me walk out. No. The next thing I know, I’m being scooped up and carried out the door of Billy Hargrove’s house and he didn’t put me down until we were standing beside his BMW.

“Better now?” I couldn’t hide my amusement at this point.

He stuck his tongue out at me and took a few long and shaky breaths, rubbing his face. “I think so, yeah. Okay. Now where was I?”

“Steve, c’mon. Just say whatever it is. This is me you’re talking to. I’ve known you since we were five. Out with it already.” I pleaded, toying with his shirt as he stopped pacing in favor of standing in front of me, staring down. Hungrily. His pupils were shot, almost blacking out the brown of his eyes. I gulped as I stared right back up at him, wondering if he was going to come out with whatever this was, my breath catching in my throat when his hips brushed right against my lower body and instead of moving away a little, Steve proceeded to step even closer, my back pressing right against the cold exterior of his car, the handle digging into my lower back just a little.

“Nancy was right.” Steve’s voice came out quietly, almost awestruck. I fidgeted slightly, my gaze dropping to the heels I was wearing briefly. He wasn’t having it, he reached out, fingers lightly gripping my chin as his face moved closer to mine all over again. “You’re the one I actually love. And I had no idea until Nancy, she…” he was talking faster now, almost as if he were afraid of what my reaction might be.

When what he was saying really hit me, I melted into him, going just a little clingy. “Yeah.. the last time we kind of argued… she threw that up at me too. Something about both of us being almost comically oblivious about things.” I agreed, the words coming quick, almost tumbling out one right on top of the other. I was a little shaky and I couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the way it felt pressing against him or the overwhelming realization we’d both just had.

When he rubbed against me lightly just to try and get even closer, I let out a ragged breath and looked up at him.

“Steve?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, princess?” Steve muttered, his gaze fixing on my lips as his tongue slowly crawled along the outline of his mouth. His fingertips were digging into my hips now and I gasped when I felt him strained against dark jeans. It was distracting enough I couldn’t think straight.

“I wanna get out of here.” I barely managed to breathlessly respond.

“Me too.” his mouth brushed against the corner of mine lazily and his hands crept down my sides, squeezing when they stopped at my hips. I raised a leg, letting it settle on his hip and his hand left my hip to wander down and squeeze my thigh as he did it again, clumsily rocking himself right against me, drawing a whimper out of me.

“Where do you want to go?” Steve asked as he tilted my chin, guiding my gaze back up to him. “I just want to be alone with you…” he mumbled against my forehead, making me shiver at the way it felt when his lips brushed my skin. “Just wanna talk. Make up for lost time.” his words had me smiling a little, biting my lip and nodding in agreement. I did too. We had so much to talk about and straighten out. And I wanted cuddles. I wouldn’t mind many more kisses like the one we shared inside the party, either.

Among other things.

“Well, anywhere we go, I’m going to be sneaking back in.” I gave a soft giggle as I met his gaze and watched the smile grow.

“You went all bad girl on me, Charlie.”

“I most certainly did not. I’m protesting my curfew.”

“My house then? I mean, if you want to go. We’d actually be able to be alone. Not like here, with all these fucking people.”  Steve chuckled as he gave a half annoyed gesture back towards Billy’s crowded house. I blushed and looked up at him, nodding in agreement.

“Let’s just go.” I answered, letting him help me into the passenger seat of his car then gripping hold of his shirt and pulling him down into me, crashing my lips against his yet again. My mouth strayed, gingerly grazing against the side of his neck and he gave a quiet groan, his fingers digging into the back of my seat as he whined against my throat, “Charlotte, this isn’t getting us to my place.”

“I know but I couldn’t resist.” I answered, my eyes fluttering open and shut as I felt his teeth dig into my neck lightly. He smirked against my skin and finally pulled away, shutting the door to my side of the car in a hurry, then rushing around to the driver seat, getting in.

The drive to his house was quiet. The tension between us had shifted from awkward to heavy… filled with want. Things we hadn’t managed to say to each other just yet. Things we needed to say.

As we came to a stop beneath one of few redlights in town, his fingers skimmed my thighs, resting, squeezing a little as he looked over at me. I leaned in, my mouth crashing against his. His lips fell open and his tongue swept out, colliding with mine as his hand crept just a little higher and he breathed into the kiss, “This is okay, right?”

“Mhm.” I hummed against his mouth, squirming and rocking myself against the touch of his hand when it brushed against my velvet covered crotch. He growled quietly, his lips latching onto my bottom one, sucking until I could feel it aching and I was panting and begging, a squirmy whining mess in my seat.

“Want you so bad. So bad.” he muttered as he pulled away, staring at me with a lust filled gaze, letting out several drawn out and shaky breaths as if he were trying to calm himself down.

There was no calming me down at this point. I leaned across the console keeping us separate and gripped his jaw, pulling his mouth against mine. “You realize that to an extent, you’ve always had me, right?”

That smile, the bright goofy one, it crept to his mouth and he pulled back, just staring at me, our breathing all ragged and the windows of his car starting to fog up. He reached out and gripped my hips, guiding me over the console into his lap. His lips grazed my forehead and he mumbled softly against it, “You weren’t close enough.”

I looked up at him. “And now?”

“It’ll work until we finally manage to get inside.” Steve laughed softly, his hands at either side of my face, already leaning in for another kiss. I deepened it, my hand raising, my fingers catching in and tugging at thick hair. When he pouted against my mouth because I’d messed his hair up, I gave his top lip a playful nip and muttered with a quiet giggle, “You better get used to it.”

“You’re a lot bossier than I remember.” he mused, chuckling and adding as an afterthought, “ I kinda like it anyway.” about the way I just sort of carelessly played with his hair.

I rocked against his lap a little, getting bolder. Feeling the relief of everything being out in the open at last. His head fell back against the seat’s headrest and he groaned, bucking up into me from below, his hands skimming over my body, not staying in one place too long. His mouth breaking from mine to drag slowly down my throat and neck, briefly catching my earlobe. “We should really get inside.” he half groaned against the shell of my ear as his lips started to stray gently down the side of my neck all over again, latching on here and there, leaving marks behind.

I pulled back and rocked myself against him, giving a pout as I begged quietly, “Please?”

“Ya mean that’s a word you actually know, Charlotte?” Steve teased gently as he opened the door to the car and stepped out, stopping to adjust his grip on me. I wrapped my legs and arms around him and his mouth met mine all over again as he made his way up the walkway leading into his house. My back met the front door with a quiet smack and I climbed out of his arms, making him pout at me as my fingers toyed with the buttons on his black shirt, finally just pulling it open and sending a dusting of buttons plinking quietly against concrete. He chuckled quietly, watching a button settle and then his eyes were fixed firmly back on mine. And before I could even get a word out or take another breath, I was back in his arms and he was unlocking the door with as much haste as he could, his mouth latched onto mine as we stepped through the door and into the living room of his house.

His hand shot out, feeling the wall for the light switch without bothering to break the ongoing kiss. I could feel my lips swelling and the more I rubbed against him and whimpered, the more he growled quietly into my mouth. He finally found the light switch and my back met the couch. I reached up, trying to pull him down to my level and he chuckled when I pulled too hard and we wound up a tangle of limbs on the couch, faces bumping when we went back in for a kiss at the same time.

“Ouch. Your nose is pointy.” Steve laughed against my mouth.

“And? Yours is pointier, Steve.” I giggled. Our foreheads met and he bit his lip, staring down at me intently. A finger raising to catch gently in the necklace around my neck. The smile grew, softening as soon as he realized exactly what the necklace was.

It was a locket he’d gotten me when we were kids. Back before popularity and ‘eww, a girl can’t be your best friend. If she is, you must like her..” came into play. He got it for me on a birthday. I’d put a picture of my dad in one side and a picture of my grandparents in the other and the locket literally never left my neck, despite me keeping it hidden most of the time. It was the first truly nice thing anyone who wasn’t in my family had done and I guess after I put the pictures of people I loved the most inside, it made it easy for me to not take it off.

“You still have this?” his words came out in tender gasps against my mouth, then my throat. “I figured you probably put it away.” his hands were roaming back down my body all over again, squeezing my hips and making me rub against him. I drew a sharp gasp and bit my lip, staring up at him as I shook my head. My fingers carded his scalp, tugging at his hair and he groaned, bucking against me a little, both of us stopping to catch our breath.

My hand lowered, toying with the waistband of his pants and he stared at me. Our eyes locked and I muttered quietly, “I don’t want to stop.” as I unbuttoned his pants and then unzipped them, fingers shaky as I tugged pants and underwear down at the same time. Steve kicked them off after kicking off his shoes and after letting his eyes roam over me slowly, licking his lips,he breathed out against my throat, “Me either.”  an arm going beneath me as he rocked against me more slowly, his fingers searching for the zip to the back of the bodysuit. When he finally found it, he gave a quiet and triumphant laugh, tugging at the zip eagerly as his mouth latched onto my throat and I sat up a little bit, leaning into him, wiggling out of the bodysuit as best as I could until he stopped me, shaking his head. “I’m supposed to do that, babe. Let me.”

He took his time, lowering the bodysuit until my breath was coming in short gasps and I was pleading for more, scooting closer to him, just trying to push for any more friction than I was currently getting. When he got the bodysuit down to my hips, I slipped off the couch, slowly wiggling the body suit down to my ankles, slowly kicking it free. I bent down, pulling off the impossibly high heels and Steve sat there, eyes glued to my body, biting his lip and bucking against air as he whistled quietly and rubbed his chin. My hands roamed down my body, fingertips lingering lazily in a pair of black panties but he was on his feet, moving towards me in a split second, his hand brushing mine out of the way. He started to step closer, making me step back until my knees brushed the back of the couch and then I found myself on my back again, Steve positioning himself between my legs, staring up at me with lust blown eyes as he worked the clasps free from the garters that held my stockings in place and connected them to my panties.

“What the hell were you thinkin, wearing this out tonight?” His eyes met mine as he asked the question, daring to lower his head and dance his lips against my upper thigh. It sent a shiver down my body and I whimpered as my head fell back.

“Honest answer?” I asked breathlessly.

“I’d prefer it, yeah.” Steve answered, waiting expectantly. He made it really clear that I was not getting out of giving an answer.

With a few shaky breaths and my eyes fluttering shut for a second as he placed more kitten licks against my skin, I finally managed to answer “I wanted to look hot. And rub your face in it.”

“Even though you came with Byers to pick up Nancy…” Steve stared down at me, smirking a little as things began to click into place a lot better. “Oh.. Oh… So all that sarcasm was what? An act?”

“Nancy’s my best friend. I couldn’t hurt her, okay? I thought she...I thought she loved you and you guys were happy or whatever… So yeah.” I answered honestly, catching his gaze. It was the truth, now that I was finally allowing myself to admit it. Sure, I’d been hurt by Steve back then, but then he and Nancy started dating and I just… couldn’t deal with it. So I blamed the pain. Just to keep myself from feeling things again.

A desperate attempt to keep him at arms length.

“And now?” Steve eyed me, waiting on an answer. Since we were getting it all out, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I took a deep breath and a few seconds and finally, I spoke up to answer. “Now things might be different… Better. At least I hope they can be?” I bit my lip and answered quietly, reaching up to pull his mouth down to mine. Steve nipped at my lips until I could feel them swell on impact.

“Much better. I promise, babe.” Steve reassured me as he rose up again, working the fishnets down my legs. I wiggled them off my feet and they settled on the living room floor. Then he was back at it, intently focused on just how slowly he could peel down my panties. Just how much he could make me whimper and beg for him to hurry while locking eyes with me, a teasing gleam in his eyes.

I dragged my fingers through his hair as he lowered his head, his lips lazily settling on my lower abdomen stopping mid lick  just as he got my panties down my thigh to gaze back up at me and lick his lips.

“Steve, c’mon… Please?” I begged.

He took a deep breath, lowering himself even more, arms hooking beneath my legs, spreading me open wider. My legs settled over each of his shoulders and I shivered and giggled softly as I felt his mouth roaming up my calves. By the time he reached the sides of my knees, I was biting my lip and trying to squirm beneath him and I could feel myself getting wetter with each little kitten lick and gentle nip against the surface of my skin. I could hear his breath catch in his throat and he glanced up at me, licking his lips before lowering his mouth again, the soft groan shattering the air as his tongue rolled right up my center in one broad stripe. My fingers curled in the leather couch, desperately trying to find anything to clutch hold of as his lips locked over my clit and I felt him starting to suck and lick. My toes curling as my hips arched upward under his muttered command and my head fell back even further, despite my best efforts to stay at least partially upright to watch him.

“So sweet.” he muttered against my dripping and aching core, his tongue circling my clit one last time before slowly moving downward, two fingers slipping into me deep, working me open and scissoring gently, massaging. His tongue plunged deep inside and my whimpers and moans came almost breathless as I felt my insides tensing, the ache that had settled in a while ago only building further. I rocked my hips against his mouth and fingers and he growled against my core, teeth grazing against, the sucking and wet sounds of his mouth competing with my quiet whimpers, moans and gasps. The harder I tried to curl my toes or grip the couch, the more futile it proved to actually be. I was finally resorting to resting my hand on the top of his head, fingers tugging at his hair. I tensed a little more and he stopped to lock eyes with me, his lips and chin glistening with my juices, licking his lips slowly. “Let go, babe.”

I didn’t need any further urging. The orgasm ripped through me, leaving me shaky and moaning his name over and over as I raised a hand and dragged it through my hair. My mouth fell open and I had a hard time catching my breath for a solid few seconds. Steve was pulling himself up my body and leaning in for a kiss. I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him down closer to me, my mouth meeting his hungrily, a quiet moan at the taste of myself on his lips. Then as the kiss broke, I pulled back, nodding to the way his cock stood at attention. I licked my lips slowly and reached out, pushing him back, lightly straddling him. His hands caught on my body, digging and scraping and when my mouth left his to work down the front of his throat slowly, he arched against me, making me hiss as his cock grazed right between my folds gently. “Babe?”

“My turn now, Steve.” I drawled quietly as my tongue danced over his chest, then in a line down his abdomen. His fingers caught in my hair and when my lips caught on the tip of his cock, tongue rolling across slowly, savoring the taste of him as it filled my mouth, he whimpered. I glanced up at him, biting my lip and making my way back up to lean down and press my mouth against his, pulling us deep into another kiss that didn’t end until neither of us could breathe properly. The entire time, I could feel his cock nudging against my throbbing cunt and I whined against his lips “Steve, it’s my turn.”

“I’m not stopping you.” he teased, that lazy grin coming with ease as we locked eyes. I poked out my tongue at him and he raised a hand, catching hold of my jaw, guiding my mouth back to his as he muttered quietly, “Kissing you is probably going to be an addiction.”

“I’m not complaining.” I mused breathlessly as I started to crawl back down him again, settling between his legs, lowering my head. When I took his length deep in my mouth, my tongue rolling slowly over the entire length, he gripped my hair tighter, bucking his hips against my mouth gently. “Fuck.” he groaned, a warning tone to his voice as he reached down, tilting my head to make me stop. “Easy, princess.” he groaned out shakily. I bit my lip and nodded before locking my lips around his length again, the suction causing a quiet pop as I worked my mouth over every single inch. Steve was really starting to squirm and finally, I felt him tugging at my hair as he cleared his throat. When I looked up, catching my breath, he gripped my jaw again, guiding my mouth to his.

“C’mon up here, princess.” Steve reached down to the spot his pants landed at on the living room floor and after blindly digging in a pocket while not breaking the kiss, he held up a foil covered square, ripping at the corner with his teeth and spitting the torn edge out. I reached out, my hand circling his, guiding the condom into my own hand and I pulled it out of it’s packaging, giving a soft giggle. Steve bit his lip and leaned up and in slightly, muttering a soft, “What am I gonna do with you, hm?” as he gave me a gentle and loving kiss that deepened to a point where neither of us were breathing on their own anymore as it began to break. I worked the condom down over his length, giving a gentle pump or two after I finished, making him buck against my hand and start to whine as he pulled me back up his body, into his lap.

I sank down on his cock, a quiet whimper leaving my lips as I felt myself being stretched out and split in two. My hands raised, one going to the hair at the nape of his neck and the other to his shoulders, my fingertips digging in lightly as I stayed still and let myself get used to the way he felt inside me.

His hands gripped my hips and his mouth crashed against mine, his teeth tugging at my lower lip in the heat of a messy kiss. He started to pump me up and down, bucking into me from below and I moaned loud enough that it echoed in the nearly silent house.

“Ah, fuck.. Steve. Faster.” I begged breathlessly, but my begging seemed to fall on deaf ears as Steve seemed to be determined on fucking into me long, slow and deep drives. His mouth strayed from mine, little kitten licks and nips against my skin as his mouth marched down the front of my throat. His hands left my hips, moving up the curve of my body, stopping at the sides of my tits, squeezing them together as he dove his mouth down, letting it lazily latch onto my nipple and started to fuck into me from below just a little faster. I whimpered and rocked my hips back and forth, making him grip me even tighter, his movements growing a little jerky, a lot faster. “Charlotte, whoa.. Slower, baby. I’m gonna blow.” he warned, his voice a husky purr against my skin as he fixed pleading eyes on me.

But I couldn’t stop. Another orgasm was building with each deeper drive. I trie dto slow down, peppering his face and lips with little kisses and nipping at his neck, sucking to leave a mark or two behind. My head fell back as I continued to bounce up and down on his cock, getting faster and faster. By the time I really felt myself tensing up all over and the orgasm threatening to take over at any second, his hips stuttered and his cock bottomed out, striking against my spot a time or two that literally almost had me seeing stars. “Steve, p-please. Don’t you dare stop.”

“Oh, I’m not planning on it, princess. I kind of can’t.” Steve continued to plow into me from below, holding my hips hard enough to leave light bruising behind. His other hand wandered up, tangling in the back of my hair, giving a few gentle tugs that sent me whimpering and moaning as my orgasm shattered through at his quietly urging, “C’mon, princess.. Ride me. Get it all out. Wanna.. Wanna feel you, oh god.” and his lips really latched onto my neck, just below my earlobe. I felt my walls clench around his length, continued bouncing up and down on his cock, slowing down just a little as I clutched at his chest and dug my fingers into his shoulders and my head fell back. 

My orgasm shattered through me a second time and I moaned his name over and over. Steve chuckled and leaned up to mumble against my skin “Ready for me?” after a few minutes of letting me ride out the high of my orgasm and I nodded, going clingy and melting against him. He smoothed his hands over my hair and muttered quietly, “There you go, baby.. Just hold on to me.” as he directed my mouth towards his and swallowed up my moans and whimpers in a long and slow kiss as he started to really fuck into me from below, striking right against my spot a time or two, making me really moan as I held on. The kiss broke just as I could feel him throbbing, filling the condom and making me wet all over again.

His forehead pressed against mine as we both clung to each other, trying to catch our breath. He muttered softly against my mouth, “I heard your stomach growl… Want anything?”

“Just to stay like this a little longer.” I yawned lazily, leaning against him, practically molded to his body.

[yodawgiherd]

Worship Your Goddess

Rating: E

>>>Read on AO3<<<¨

I worked on this monstrosity for about a week, but here it is. A long-ass chapter full of dom Mikasa and sub Eren, if that floats your boat, I think that you will be satisfied. I know I was. If you don't, feel free to skip it, there's no plot. Just porn. Honest.

Enjoy!

Imagine a scene in your head.

There’s a room, dimly lit, the darkness pushed back by low lights. A black leather sofa dominates the center, a massive luxurious piece of furniture chosen by someone of means and a good taste. There are also other objects, but they don’t matter. Forgotten, for now.

Saying that the sofa itself is the center of the said picture might have been a bit premature, now that the image sharpens. With more clarity added, it's obvious who is the true master, or rather mistress, of this scene. An Asian woman in heavily goth clothes and dark makeup on her face. Any attention in this room is trained right at her, she’s pulling it in like a black hole, her influence cannot be denied. The dominatrix is sitting on the sofa, relaxing into its soft hug. Pale skinned, she’s dressed exclusively in black, a color that matches her short raven hair and dark lips. She’s wearing a black dress of an unusual design with translucent parts around her neck and arms. It’s tight on the top but flowing into a short skirt, ending in the upper part of the woman’s thighs. The edge of the skirt rests just at the right point, giving way to her pale legs partly hidden by fishnet stockings. Not much of her skin can be seen, however, as it dips beneath the black leather of the massive leather boots that reach all the way up to the woman’s knees.  

Her choice of jewelry matches her clothes. There are multiple necklaces around her elegant throat, adorned in the middle by a thick leather choker with small silver studs. The light catches on her ears, pierced both at the top and the bottom, shiny silver circles placed there, except for a singular pair of crosses, hanging from the customary place of earrings. Her midnight lips are curled up into a small smile, pale cheeks flushed a little bit, almond-shaped grey eyes sitting in the middle of dark shadows watching something. Her gaze is intense, loving, but harsh at the same time, mixing those emotions well. Following her eyes, it’s easy to locate the thing of her interest.

A man is kneeling next to her, her pet, her slave for the night. Posture perfectly straight, hands clasped behind his back, he’s still as a statue, awaiting orders from his mistress. He’s physically very strong, tall and broad-shouldered, yet completely powerless in the hands of his mistress. Shirtless as he is, the well-defined muscles of his upper half are fully on display, glistening with sweat. The lack of a shirt also shows some damage. There are scratches on his tanned skin, red angry lines left behind by merciless nails. The area around the man’s nipples received the most attention, littered by bitemarks. The imprints of teeth are almost everywhere as if the kneeling man was attacked by a ferocious beast, one that wanted to cover as much of him as it could. There’s also something on his neck, partly covered by his long brown hair, hanging freely, but it’s still visible. A collar, tight around his throat, black leather with letters in front, proof of ownership. Whoever this man was, he belonged to the dark goddess sitting next to him, watching her slave with great interest.

That’s the image, and nothing else matters. He’s here, kneeling at her feet, completely under her spell. She’s here, in control, the center of the universe. And the world is standing still until she decides for it to move.

Reaching out, the goth mistress runs her fingers tenderly over the man’s cheek, reddened by repeated slaps. Her black fingernails are gentle for a change, not scratching, simply touching, the light shining on the many rings which are decorating her hand. A touch, nothing more, but it’s enough to make his whole body shake in anticipation, his breathing quickening for a second. The gentle caress is unexpected, after such harsh punishment, his cheek still stings from how hard she slapped him. It was deserved, for sure, one shouldn’t talk back to his mistress. Although her weight was hard to bear, when she was standing on him, it was entirely her right to do it.

The caressing hand moved, and now she was petting him, like a dog, a good boy that took his punishment well. The mistress loves her pet, after all, it makes her happy when he’s obedient. And it is high time that he proves himself useful, he can do more than kneel at her feet and look pretty. The touch disappearing as it appeared, the woman sits back, extending her leg in a silent invitation. Immediately, the kneeling one reaches out, takes a hold of her elegant limb, waits for an order. He’s cradling her beautiful leg as if she was made of glass, gentle and perhaps even loving, eyes moving over the black leather and stocking covered pale skin. Satisfied with his obedience, seeing that he knows exactly what she wants him to do, a single word leaves her lips.

And the world begins to move again.

 Eren followed Mikasa’s wish to the letter. Trailing kisses all the way from the toe of the boot and up, he made sure not to cross any boundary and didn’t move past the upper edge at her knee. He would have to earn the privilege of putting his filthy mouth on her porcelain skin. His mistress was pleased with his obedience, nodding.

“Good boy.”, she said in a low voice, making him shiver.

To continue pleasing her, as that was Eren’s sole purpose for being right now, he licked a broad stripe on the black leather, leaving behind a shiny trail. Gently as humanly possible, he turned Mikasa’s leg, getting access to the other side of the boot. He couldn’t leave out anything, could he. His breath was coming out in short huffs now, excitement taking over. Eren wanted to be good for his mistress, wanted to serve, the little encouraging words leaving Mikasa’s midnight lips gave him physical pleasure. Mouthing the toe of the boot, then moving back up to trail each one of the numerous buckles with the tip of his tongue. Once again finding himself at the top, he used the zipper to guide him back down, down where he belonged. The only small complaint he had was that Mikasa’s choice of footwear for the day didn’t have those killer high heels, as most of her dominatrix boots did. It was always fun to have them in his mouth, suck on them, let Mikasa ravage his mouth as much as she wanted. Well, there’s always next time.

This small setback did little to ruin his mood, however, as having Mikasa’s black leather-clad leg in his hands felt amazing anyway. The nigh endless row of black underneath his tongue, cool leather that felt great even when he rubbed his cheek against it, lightly nuzzling the boot. Following the shape of her leg, Eren traced his mouth down, once again turning it, this time on the other side, to get better access. Dragging his tongue over the back of her long limb, moving his head so he can kiss the bottom of the boot, not leaving even the thick sole out of his worshipping duties, his every movement observed by his generous owner, granting him all the fun he could ask for. On his own, Eren could easily spend hours here. In his subspace mindset, he would worship Mikasa’s boots as long as she would want him to, everything he did was tied to the words of the raven dominatrix.

Tugging her leg from his grasp, Mikasa chuckled at the face Eren made. Despite his swollen lips and reddened cheeks, he looked as if she took his favorite toy from him. Not for long though, as she raised her other leg, prompting her pet to shuffle forward on his knees and once again slide his hands over it. Bending her knee, straightening her leg, Eren put his mouth to work. Kissing, licking, worshipping her boot same as the one before, Eren repeated the patterns diligently. Leaving long, broad trails of spit over her shoe, shining the black leather with his tongue, the feeling of excitement building in his chest. It was getting too much to bear, honestly, he was being granted way too much. The cage on his cock prevented any sort of serious erection, but his hips were left unchecked. Without any conscious control, they began to move, snapping up and down, the familiar dance that they both knew intimately. But it was too soon for that, he didn’t get permission from his mistress, and Mikasa wasn’t pleased by seeing this sign of disobedience. Her pet could only move when she allowed him to. To shut down his movements, Mikasa placed the foot that Eren wasn’t diligently kissing against his crotch, pressing hard. Eren hissed, eyes fluttering shut as the muscles of his neck bulged.

“Getting this worked up from kissing my boots?”, Mikasa clicked her tongue, shaking her head, “You’re such a dirty slut.”

“Yes…”, Eren’s words were almost pained,  “For you, mistress, only for you.”

Good response, but that didn’t excuse his lack of obedience.

“Still, puppy.”, grinding her leg harder against him, it forced a loud groan from Eren’s mouth, “No moving.”

“Apologies, mistress.”, he gritted through clenched teeth, face bathed in sweat, “Won’t happen again.”

Satisfied, Mikasa lessened the pressure but kept the foot pressed against his caged cock, a heavy reminder. Resuming the worship of his mistress’ knee-high boots, Eren kissed his way down, dragged his tongue over the bottom, turning her leg to make every part of the black leather shine. Devoted, submissive, fully in her control, Eren couldn’t be more of a dutiful pet. He was Mikasa’s good boy, a pretty slave that would fulfill any and all of her wishes. And she had plenty of those.

Freeing her leg from his hands, Mikasa set both of her feet back on the floor, casting an inspecting eye over her shoes. Perfectly shined, properly worshipped boots, there was nothing she could criticize about the work Eren’s mouth and tongue did. Which qualified those to be used in a more intimate matter, one that Mikasa was craving already. To say that watching Eren kiss her shoes made her wet between the legs would be an understatement.

“Good work, puppy.”, a little praise, well deserved, “Now take them off.”

Hands flying to obey her, Eren undid the buckles one by one, using his mouth as much as his fingers. He knew that Mikasa liked it when he turned even such an activity as taking off her boots into another worship. Buckles open, he caught the zipper between his teeth, slowly dragging it down. It took some time, to move from Mikasa’s knee to her foot, her legs were long, after all, and he didn’t rush anywhere. After taking care of her other shoe the same way, Mikasa was finally barefoot, her legs now only clad in those sexy fishnet stockings. The contrast between the black lines and the pale skin was great to look at, and Eren was anxious to put his mouth back to work. Kneeling in front of his mistress, staring at her, his hands automatically moved back behind his back, back straightening. It was a pose Mikasa liked her pet to be in, and he would obey her.

Raising her legs, both at the same time, Mikasa smirked when she saw how hungrily he eyed her feet. Well, it was time to grant him some reward. Putting her feet right on Eren’s face, Mikasa dragged them across, left and right, loving how agitated his breathing became. Over his swollen lips, over red cheeks, over the smooth, recently shaved skin. Inhaling through the nose, letting the air leave his mouth in short puffs, he was still as a statue, even when her feet smothered his face, roaming anywhere she wanted them to. Pressing her toes against his lips, Mikasa didn’t have to say a word for Eren’s mouth to obediently drop open, letting her in.

“Suck.”, an order.

Prompted by her, he closed his mouth, sucking at her toes with undeniable vigor. It took all of Eren’s self-control to prevent his hips from moving again. Mikasa had sexy feet and having one pressed against his face and one in his mouth was certainly arousing, no denying that.

“I want you to kiss every inch of my legs,”, she said, smirking, the image of a smug domme, “Can you do that for me, pretty boy?”

With her foot still in his mouth, Eren nodded rapidly. Pulling the cute black painted toes from between his lips, Mikasa angled her foot differently, what she wanted rather clear. Sticking out his tongue, Eren licked the bottom of it, earning a sweet giggle from his mistress. It tickled a bit. Permitted to use his hands by a single nod, he took a hold of the leg dangling in front of his face, lowering his face to press a kiss to the instep. Pressing his thumbs into the bottom of her foot, lips kissing the front, Eren reminded himself that Mikasa wanted a foot massage, so moving his fingers in a soothing circular rhythm, he began. That’s why she allowed him the use of his hands, he realized. Massaging was always an intimate activity, and Eren loved doing it for multiple reasons. First, squeezing some massage oil onto her skin and kneading it, hearing her moan as he eased the stiffness out of her muscles felt great. Second, Mikasa often rewarded him for helping her like this, and as she was usually naked for those massages, the rewards were of an intimate character too.

Combining his mouth and hands, Eren did his best to deliver quality foot worship to his mistress, massaging her, using the spit left behind by his tongue instead of oil. He did a quality job, judging from how she melted into the sofa, soft sounds leaving her black-painted lips. Mikasa was in small heaven, shifting her position to be as comfortable as she could. She didn’t even have to hold her leg up, Eren did that for her, spreading kisses all over the stocking covered foot. The other one found its resting place between his spread legs, returning the controlling weight back against his cock. Maybe he was servicing her, but that didn’t mean he got to disobey the rules. No moving meant no moving.

The activity was certainly similar to the boot worship, although the surface underneath his tongue was pale white, not black. The stocking also created little bumps in his path, unlike the completely smooth leather surface of the shoe. Not counting the buckles, of course. Other than that, however, Eren was exactly as dutiful as before. No part of Mikasa’s leg could be left out. The arch of her foot, sides, the instep, the back. The gentle bump of her ankle and up, Eren mouthed her calf, feeling the muscles there shift beneath his lips. She sighed beautifully when he kissed his way up to her knee, pressing his tongue against the bone, the foot on his crotch shifting a bit. Mikasa was certainly enjoying this. Reaching her thigh, the powerful yet elegant part that was strong enough to choke the life out of him yet so smooth beneath his tongue, Eren could smell Mikasa’s arousal from how close he was. He could also see the upper part where the little fat that was on her otherwise firm leg was pushed up by the stocking, the place where dreams were born. Using the upper lace of her stocking as a border, Eren didn’t cross it, moving his mouth around the inner side but not breaching into that bountiful land of that area between her legs. Yet. From the glimpse he caught, however, the black lace of her panties was positively drenched at this point.

“Good boy, so good…”, Mikasa practically moaned out those words, eyes half-lidded, “Now do the other…”

Not letting go of her leg, Eren placed it between his spread ones before taking a hold of the till now resting foot. Holding her calf, Eren placed her toes into his mouth, an action that Mikasa appreciated with a hum. Nothing wrong with indulging your little kink, especially when she enjoys it so much. The worship of her leg was accompanied by Mikasa’s other foot impatiently tapping against his crotch, little moans and shudders as she was slowly growing restless, the journey of Eren’s mouth all over her elegant limb arousing as hell. Dragging her foot against his face, she bit her bottom lip, already imagining how that clever tongue will feel buried deep inside her. Eren’s talented mouth felt great against her legs, sure, but having him service her pussy always felt that much better. And it was high time to get him there. Putting her feet back on the floor, Mikasa braced herself as she reached out next to her, retrieving something.

Pulling a leash out of nowhere, Mikasa clipped it into Eren’s collar, yanking at it after to get his attention. Spit slick red skin, unfocused eyes with blown-out pupils, swollen lips, all that together made her slave’s ruined face. And she was far from being finished with her puppy, his mouth would serve his insatiable Asian dominatrix. But she was far too turned on right now, needed a little break, let out a bit of steam, so gracefully bowing down to his kneeling height, Mikasa brutally claimed Eren’s mouth in a deep kiss. His hands were once again clasped at his back, no longer having a purpose, so all he could do was brace himself against her assault. Her tongue sliding against his, hot and heavy, teeth sinking into his reddened lips, she abused him, abused how pliant her puppy was. Again and again, she sucked out those little moans from him, like a vampire feeding on his essence. The kiss was completely one-sided, Eren was only moving with her but never on his own, his mouth was Mikasa’s playground. When she pulled back, their lips were connected by saliva, but that was ignored by them both. The moment was way too hot to be interrupted.

“You know how long I’ve been waiting for this?”, Mikasa’s eyes were almost feverish as she stared at him, “You think you are the only one who couldn’t wait?”

Eren wasn’t sure how to respond, especially when she pulled so hard on the leash that it made him choke. The hand that wasn’t holding the leather strap gripped a fistful of Eren’s hair, yanking it back, forcing him to look right into her eyes.

“Tonight, you are mine to use, all of you.”, letting go of his scalp, Mikasa’s fingers trailed down his cheeks, his lips, dipping into his mouth. She traced his gums, his teeth, slid the tips across his tongue, fingerfucked his mouth, the fire between her legs growing hotter.

“Your mouth is mine, your tongue is mine, your pretty face is mine…”

She took a shuddering breath.

“And I’ll use you, oh yes… I’ll make you eat me out and ride your face until I’m totally satisfied. Oh, and puppy,”, she leaned closer, whispering into his ear.

“I’m not easily satisfied.”

Tugging at the leash, she forced his face right between her spread legs, burying his nose into her panties. Oh, she was wet, Eren could smell her arousal and the lace was damp against his skin. Having her legs worshipped always got Mikasa going, she loved Eren kissing her feet.

“Take them off,”, she ordered, “Slowly….”

As Eren wasn’t allowed to use his hands, he smartly decided to use his teeth instead. Dragging the wet cloth down her legs, passing all those places he worshipped with his mouth before and past until they were gone, Mikasa’s glistening slit was now fully on display underneath the skirt of her dress. Closer and closer still, Eren placed a string of kisses on Mikasa’s inner thighs, finally reaching the skin not covered by the stockings. Gentle kisses, rough kisses, he spread them everywhere, slowly but surely moving towards that one place. Oh, but a pet shouldn’t make his mistress wait.

“You’ll eat me out.”, she ordered, “Lick my pussy while that cage is still on your cock.”

The cruel smile was back in full force.

“I want your tongue buried deep inside me, I want your mouth fully servicing my cunt while your own pleasure is negated by those steel bars.”, pulling the key from the collection around her neck, Mikasa made sure that it’s visible, resting at the top, “I want you to look at the key while you are serving me, want you to know that any pleasure you can ever get is fully in my power. Mine, same as you are, pet.”

With that, the goth pulled him by the leash again, spreading her legs wide, forcing Eren’s mouth to grind against her heat, nose bumping against her pubic bone. Moaning, hips moving into his face, Mikasa’s eyes fluttered open and close, all the buildup finally getting some satisfaction. Guiding her slave’s mouth by the leash, she was in charge, there was no denying that. If the collar wasn’t enough, there was the cage on his cock and that key that was shining at her neck, unquestionable proof of ownership. But Eren was more than willing to play his part, to be a good boy for his mistress, a faithful pet.

Directed by her, Eren used his tongue to lick at her first, getting Mikasa’s unique taste into his mouth. Collecting the wetness with the tip of his tongue, he traced the shape of her lower lips, spreading it everywhere. Her arousal combined with his spit, allowing Eren’s mouth to effortlessly glide around, finding its tempo and place. When she yanked on the leash harder, he knew that this was the sign that she wanted more. So he gave it to her. Mouthing her slit, Eren pushed his tongue past her slick entrance, eating his mistress out. It was one thing to suck her toes, it was one other to suck on her clit. Both quite pleasing activities, but having her nub teased out from behind its hood by his skilled tongue, having his lips seal around it and suck, that made her moan out loud, her cunt quivering as her pet just successfully pushed the goth girl over into her first orgasm for the night. It came fast, but Mikasa was not surprised to climax this early. She was so turned on by Eren’s mouth on her boots and legs, having her toes in his mouth gave her incredible pleasure. Eren built her up by worshipping her legs, and now it was easy to make her fall by putting his tongue to work at her sex.

Hips moving, she rode it out on his face, those moans rising in pitch. She was getting everything she wanted while he was completely cut off, eyes flying over to watch that key bounce on Mikasa’s chest in sync with the movements of her hips. Her hand, the one that wasn’t holding his leash, was playing with the key too, Mikasa knew exactly what she was doing. Watch me, said her movements, watch me cum while I hold the key to your pleasure in my hand. Watch as I ride your face, as I use you for my pleasure while you get nothing, fucktoy. He was locked, in her power, under her command. And fuck, it felt amazing to be hers.

Patient, deep in subspace yet present. She was holding the key and the leash at the same time. She owned him. If Mikasa wanted to have Eren eat her out for the whole night, if she wanted to keep his cock caged for the whole play, only abusing his mouth, he would obey. There was that clarity in submission, in giving yourself over to the dom. The pet would serve his goddess, would do anything she wanted him to do without complaining, and that feeling of her grinding against his face, hearing her pleasure moans, that was enough of a reward. Eren achieved all this without using his hands, made her cum with those still clasped behind his back, and Mikasa was insatiable. She wanted all of him to serve her.

“Fin-Fingers... B-Baby I…”, she choked on her words for a second, her climax still going strong, “Ne-Need your ha-hands…”

She wanted to cum again, wanted Eren to bridge her orgasm right into the next one, wanted to stay on her high. Moving to serve, he quickly wet his fingers before pressing two into her opening, adding a third one when he felt how wet she was, how eagerly her cunt stretched around him. Lapping at her clit at the same time, lashing that sensitive bud with his tongue, Eren curved his fingers up, knowing from experience where that one place was, the one that made his mistress go crazy. Finding it and pressing, massaging her insides expertly, he achieved exactly what she wanted from him. Her thighs, already wrapped around his head, her stockinged feet slid across his back, control of her body slipping away from her. The second climax wrecked through her body before it got the chance to calm down, making her cry out, body arching on the sofa. With his cock straining against the tight confines of its prison, with Mikasa screaming out her pleasure out loud, the key mocking him from the chain around her neck, this was certainly a test of Eren’s devotion to his dark goddess.

A wave of wetness hit Eren’s face, informing him of a job well done. He was a very good orgasm slave for his owner, it would seem. He also knew that Mikasa liked being caressed and gently licked through her finish, didn’t want him to pull back immediately, so he eased her through the peak. When Mikasa’s slim grey eyes opened, tears leaking from the corners as proof of how intensive her experience was. Eren was once again kneeling at her feet, waiting. Reaching out, she ruffled his hair playfully, a smirk on her mouth.

“You’re a wonderful pet, Eren.”, she sighed, feeling happy and satisfied for the moment, “I love you like this.”

“Thank you.”, turning his head slightly, he pressed a kiss against her wrist, against the tattoo there, “You’re too kind, mistress.”

So kind that she kept him locked, not even bothering to hide the key, leaving it out on display. But letting Eren’s cock free or not was her decision, it belonged to her anyway, the proof written on the ring he wore around the base of his bound pride. All he could do was wait.

“I know, I know… I even have a surprise for you.”, her voice turned from soft to hard again, snapping, “Watch me.”

And he did. His eyes were glued to her as she stood up on shaky legs, reaching behind herself to unzip her dress. With a twist, a sexy shake of her hips, Mikasa made the black cloth slide down her body, revealing more and more of that smooth pale skin Eren adored. But there was something else too, something that he had no idea how it got there. A black leather harness. When did Mikasa put it on? Eren watched her dress, all the way from her stockings to the moment when she zipped up her boots, but he didn’t remember her putting this on. Oh, she must have done it in that short moment when Mikasa told him to wait outside, that she needs to use the bathroom real quick. This meant that all this time, their whole day out, it was there, hidden beneath the dress, hugging her firm curves. Black leather belts crossing her pale skin pulled tight enough that they would squeeze her anytime she moved. Mikasa didn’t like the harness much when Eren first showed it to her, wasn’t much sold on the idea, but apparently she learned to like it, putting it on even when the day was hers. It looked very good on her, Eren could say, leather harness combined well with her lacy lingerie, overall creating a rather strange yet somehow amazing set. It was clipped into her choker at the top, the strap hidden beneath her necklaces, framed her perky breasts, for now covered by the lace of her bra, went by her fit stomach with those defined abs to hug her sharp hips and continued even lower, following the V shape of her inner thighs. It made the curves of her body stand out amazingly, making the whole image even more alluring than it normally was.

Maybe the harness was originally meant for a submissive, but Mikasa effortlessly pulled it off as a domme, using the leather belts as a stylish fashion choice. It surely made their day out that much more interesting for her too, being squeezed and held by the tight bondage wear out in public must have been arousing as hell. Now Eren was gifted by this sight, for how nicely he ate his mistress out, and it was a reward worth having his face used as a pleasure toy.

“Like what you see?”, she asked, giving him a turnaround view. Eren couldn’t nod fast enough, making her smirk. It was high time to move this somewhere else, she still had grand plans for her puppy.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom.”, with that, Mikasa turned away, tugging at the leash to get her pet to follow her, “We still have a lot of training to do.”

The hard pull made him fall on all fours, forcing him to crawl. Luckily, Mikasa didn’t rush, enjoying her walk with the leashed pet on all fours at her side. Parading him like this, they reached the bedroom together, a mistress and a puppy on their daily walk.

“Now…”, looking down, the dominatrix smiled down at her submissive, at his devoted face, down at her feet, “What am I going to do with you?”

“A-Anything you want.”

“That’s right.”, a sharp intake of breath, “Anything I damn desire.”

Reaching down, she unclipped the leash from Eren’s collar, pointing at the bed.

“Up you go, puppy.”

As he crawled towards the bed, Mikasa sat down to undo the garter belt and finally pull the wet stockings from her feet, discarding them after. Reaching behind her back, she unclasped her bra too, ridding her body of all that unnecessary clothing. The harness was more than enough. Removing her necklaces too, she only kept the key to Eren’s cock cage around her neck alongside the thick choker hugging her throat. She didn’t want to remove that, as it was connected to the harness on her body. That remained too, of course, tight on her body, squeezing her just perfectly anytime she moved. Ready to continue, Mikasa turned back and walked over to where Eren was waiting for her, obediently lying on his back as she told him to.

Mikasa did what he expected and tied him to the bed, using the cuffs in the corners. Ankles and wrists pulled tight, his body was forced into a spread-eagle, but that was not all. Pulling another strap out of somewhere, Mikasa buckled it across his chest, securing him to the bed even tighter. Another one went across his stomach and the last over his upper thighs. They were all pulled very, very tight, forcing his body to dip into the mattress at the sheer strength of his bindings. When she was done, it was obvious what her goal was. Mikasa wanted Eren completely still, unable to move a muscle, and she achieved just that. When their usual cuffs combined with these new belts, he was completely helpless. Even breathing was made a bit more difficult by how strongly the leather bit into his chest, sure to leave a mark behind. Mikasa cast an eye over the bondage, making sure that it was secured, completely immobilizing her victim. Satisfied, she walked over to their adult toybox and grabbed a few things before coming back and climbing on top of Eren, his unfocused eyes following her every move. Seating herself on his stomach, those nicely defined abs, Mikasa focused her attention on the thing between his legs, locked away by no one else but her.

She was not surprised to see that the cage was wet, Eren must have dribbled a lot of precum during their foreplay, but there was no satisfaction to be found for him. Mikasa made sure that he didn’t see what she was doing, facing his crotch rather than his face, made sure that he didn’t even catch a glimpse of the toys she brought. All he could see were her back, snow-white skin and black leather of the harness, the elegant ropes of muscle beneath moving anytime her delicate hands did. Dragging a single black nail across the cockring, secured around the base of Eren’s pride, restricting both the rod and the balls, she could hear him shakily exhale behind her. He probably thought that her touching his crotch was a good thing, that he will finally get something. Oh, if he only knew how wrong he was. Mikasa wanted to do this sooner, to have him eat her out while he would be caged, but Eren’s little deal at the start of the week prevented her from doing so. She meant it when she said that he was not the only one who was desperate. Many times she found herself staring at the key around her neck, knowing what it meant, the fire between her legs making her rub her thighs together. And now that she finally could do it, now that she could ride his face while his pleasure was locked away, she found herself loving it. And Mikasa was always a cruel dominatrix. She wanted more, more of that desperation, and she would get just that. The torture was only beginning.

Picking up the Hitachi wand from her pile of fun, Mikasa turned it on with a dark smile, loving how Eren tensed beneath her. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what was going down. But before he could do anything, before he could beg his mistress to perhaps reconsider, Mikasa put it down, pressing the vibrating head against the cage. Throwing his head back, as that was the only part of his body Eren could move, he let out a loud groan. This was terrible. He was already way past being turned on, his cock was incredibly sensitive, spending such a long time worshipping Mikasa’s perfect legs and velvety pussy does that to a man. And now that fucking cage he spent most of the night cursing shook, the wand vibrations affecting it, making it even more unbearable. The dominatrix was having fun. Letting some spit dribble from her mouth down between his legs for better lubrication, she was surely enjoying herself. Wrapping her fingers around the steel bars, she angled it to the side, pressing the wand against the previously unabused part after. It made Eren curse out loud, whine like an animal. She loved it. Just when he thought that he’s going to go insane. She stopped, looking at his red face over her shoulder.

“Something wrong, puppy?”, the goth temptress asked with that fake sweetness that made her voice threatening.

No, complaining was not the right path here. His cock belonged to her anyway, it was right there, written on the ring. Pets do not talk back unless they want to be punished. Instead of saying words he would soon regret, Eren took a deep breath.

“N-No, mistress.”

She eyes his face for a second before nodding and turning back towards her fun. And the torture began anew. Mikasa was glad that she tied Eren down like that because from how much she was abusing him, he would surely buck beneath her, his body would try to get rid of its tormentor subconsciously. Secured as he was, none of that was allowed to happen. Instead, her fun was accompanied by the tortured sounds falling from his mouth behind her, muttered curses, groans, some weak begging when he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Not like she cared, of course.

“I do wonder just how much cum you built up.”, she speculated out oud, teasing Eren’s swollen balls with the tip of her little finger, “A week in chastity should make a lot, don’t you think?”

“M-Mistress… I….”, a pained sound, “Please…”

She asked him a question, and he had the audacity to ignore it. With a frown, she slapped his balls instead, hard enough to force a loud curse out of him.

“Words, puppy, use them.”

Eren had trouble concentrating, had trouble answering any sort of question with all the blood rushed between his legs, but to prevent further punishment, he did his best.

“I… It will be a lot… You teased me so much.”

“I did, didn’t I.”, she giggled, once again pressing the wand against the cage, “It’s so much fun to watch you squirm.”

And it went on, and on, and it didn’t get better, it got worse. Dripping more spit on his poor cock, she leaned down to lick at his caged pride, the tip of her tongue reaching between the bars to tease him even further. It wasn’t a blowjob, it was more of a teasejob because when Mikasa closed her mouth around the cage and sucked at it, Eren felt like he could die. She had to be careful though. When she used her tongue and pressed the wand against his tip at the same time, from how much the glands swelled it was possible that Eren would just cum from all that stimulation, cage or no cage. Pulling back, giving him a little breather, she looked back at her slave, smirking when she saw how ruined his face was. Oh, but that could be made even better.

“M-Mistress….”, Eren noticed her watching him, his voice coarse and full of pleading, “P-Please… I ca-can’t….”

Well, maybe she could give him an out. He was a good boy, after all.

“I can either continue this,”, she held up the wand, giggling when she saw how Eren fearfully eyed it as if it was not a sex toy but a deadly weapon.

“Or I could sit on your face.”, she proposed the other possibility, “I wouldn’t say no if you offered to eat my ass, puppy.”

Eren’s answer was quick and rather expected.

“You would do me an honor if you placed your perfect butt on my face, mistress, so I could pleasure you with my undeserving mouth.”

Mikasa never heard a more flowery invitation to sit on someone’s face, so putting her magic wand down, for now, she climbed over to where Eren’s head was, carefully positioning her ass right over his waiting mouth. Moving down, she smothered his face, making sure that her butt was at the right place. With how it covered all of his face, Eren’s breathing was reduced to a trickle, both mouth and nose full of Mikasa’s ass, left with nothing but hope that she won’t suffocate him. Then again, there are worse ways to go than being smothered by a beautiful butt. Just as he was losing hope, unable to help himself, tied up as he was, Mikasa lifted herself a bit, allowing sweet air back in. Eren gulped it down, chest heaving, but he wasn’t allowed to breathe for long before she sat down again. Pleasing his mistress was difficult, considering the position and all, her puppy needed some motivation. Changing her seating form, Mikasa straightened her legs, letting them rest on the cock cage, playing with it with her toes. It was nowhere near as bad as the Hitachi wand torture, but it was a warning. Eren should better start using his tongue, or she can very well just go back to her previous fun.

The shift in her position also meant that all her heavy weight was now resting on top of his body, her athletic form difficult to bear. Leaning on Eren’s shoulders to steady herself, Mikasa poked at his cock with her foot, prompting him to finally dart out with his tongue, licking alongside her anus. Despite these hard conditions, he did his best to please her, moving alongside the rim before dipping inside the puckered hole, eating her ass as dutifully as he could. There was also that little problem of being suffocated by Mikasa’s firm butt. Merciful as his mistress was, she lifted her ass from time to time, pausing the smothering in order to let her pet breathe for a few moments before sitting back down. Breathing would be a distraction from serving her anyway, with no air available the only thing Eren could do was pleasure her and hope that she will decide that he deserves oxygen for his efforts.

“That’s a good boy,”, she moaned on top of him, head falling back, her foot pressing harder against the cage, making him groan into her, “Do-don’t you d-dare stop.”

She was close, very close, and to help her pet along Mikasa lowered one hand between her legs, playing with her swollen clit, rubbing herself in sync with the movements of Eren’s tongue dancing around her anus. Dipping two fingers inside herself, Mikasa spread her legs to touch herself better, moaning loudly and making no effort to muffle herself. With a deep shove of his tongue Eren finally pushed her over, Mikasa’s body writhing as an orgasm overtook her, still fingering herself to drag it out. Feeling her tighten and release was great, although the momentary lapse in vigilance meant that Eren was dangerously close to suffocating when Mikasa finally got off his face, allowing her pet to live. She needed a moment to calm after having her butt so nicely pleasured, Catching her breath, calming herself, she moved to stare right down at her pet.

“You deserve a reward for this,”, she said, caressing his hair and watching Eren’s face, red from both the teasing and the lack of oxygen, “That was some fine ass-eating you did.”

“Th…”, he coughed, throat hoarse, “Thank you, mistress.”

With a wink, Mikasa repositioned herself between Eren’s legs, once again gently running her fingers over the bars.

“I think it’s high time we let you out”, she cooed, tracing the ring with the tip of her finger, “wouldn’t you say?”

“I… Uhm..”, praying to high heaven that this is not another one of Mikasa’s traps, Eren met her gaze with a bit of fear in his own eyes, “I-If you believe I deserve it, mistress..”

Slowly, as if she was still deciding, Mikasa slipped the key from around her neck, sliding it into the lock. With a click, the cage loosened, falling away from his cock which almost immediately sprung to its full length. The cage was gone, but the ring remained, pulled tight around the base, meaning that Eren was not yet completely free.

“You know how it goes,”, she said, putting away the cage and retrieving another thing from her collection, placed in a way that Eren couldn’t see what it was, “Something goes out, something else….”

Pop and the pleasant smell of scented lube invaded his nose.

“Goes in…”

The finger penetrating his ass was not much of a surprise anymore. Mikasa was in no rush, slowly preparing her pet’s hole, rotating her hand to loosen his muscles. Adding another finger, she dripped a bit more lube over him, and Eren finally recognized what the smell was. Cherry. Mikasa was using the lube Hange gave them as a gift, making him wonder if the scientist would be surprised by how they were enjoying it. Probably not. Scissoring her fingers, the tips brushed against Eren’s prostate, making him hiss at the white-hot pleasure that coursed through his veins.

“Easy… Easy…”, Mikasa was still smiling, her voice light, “Don’t get too worked up yet.”

How was he supposed to not get worked up when she fingered his ass so well, knowing just where to touch and how to move her hand to make him melt. The muscles gave way, surrendering to her, and that was exactly what she wanted. Pulling her fingers out, Mikasa laughed when Eren whined in protest.

“Aw, you’re so cute.”

With that, a new pressure appeared against his anus, sliding past the weakened ring and into him. Silicone, a shape he knew, curved in a way that pressed right against his sweet spot. Eyes shooting open, Eren saw that it wasn’t a strap-on, as he first thought, it wasn’t fastened to Mikasa’s waist. It was a vibrator, a prostate massager, a toy that had the power to reduce him into a complete mess. As if he wasn’t ruined enough. Satisfied that it was placed into him correctly, sheathed all the way in, Mikasa retrieved the remote and climbed back up over his body to face him.

“Let’s turn it up a notch.”, she said, “You’ll eat me out, make me cum all over your face with your tongue while this thing, “she held up the remote, “will play with your ass.”

A broken whine from him. Good enough.

“If I decide that you earned it,” Mikasa continued, “I’ll let you cum. If not, well….”

Her eyes moved back where the cage and wand were resting.

“We can always go back.”

“I’ll give you the best orgasm of your life, mistress, you can count on me.”, Eren pleaded, almost feverish, willing to do anything not to go back into the cage.

Desperate, just as she liked him.

“We’ll see about that.”

Resuming her rightful position on the throne that was Eren’s face, Mikasa sighed happily when she felt her slave immediately go to work, mouth, and tongue eager to stay true to his word. Relaxing, letting him do his magic, Mikasa clicked the remote, the toy in Eren’s ass coming to life. It worked amazingly, massaging his prostate just as the name suggested, making his cock strain wildly against the ring. It was hard to stay focused on eating his mistress out, with this toy inside him, but Eren was determined. Moving his mouth, licking at her, locating the sweet spots with the tip of his tongue, he did everything he could to make her cum.

He mouthed her eagerly, tongue dipping deeper into her sex, prodding, and lapping at all she had to offer. Unable to use his hands to pull her closer, Eren had to make do with her ass pressing down against his chin as Mikasa eased more of her weight on top of him. Skin warm against her bare thighs, hot breath coming in exhale right into her, everything wet with his saliva and her juices. Her cunt quaked, throbbing and squeezing as his tongue worked within her.

Mikasa was worked up again, not letting her body rest, thighs squeezing hard around his face, freezing Eren in place. She panted on top of him, her hand clenching around the remote, the other pressed against his belly, stabilizing herself. Eren didn’t leave any part of her body alone. Tongue tracing from her pussy to her anus, he glided around that spit slick hole, dipping in again, making her moans rise in intensity. She didn’t even feel like touching herself at this point, Eren was just too good at this, trained by her in the arts of pussy and ass eating to perfection. Even with the prostate massager inside him as a distraction, he was making her see white, muscles of her core pulling tighter and tighter in the preparation of the rapidly approaching peak.

His tongue continued to pry into her heat, slick and tight and accompanied by moans and curses, muffled by the legs squeezing his head. Eren couldn’t hear her, but he could feel her, feel how she bucked on top of him, riding his face, chasing her orgasm that was closer and closer by the second. Her skin was feverish, beads of sweat gliding down and collecting to where her body was hugged by the harness. Her small tits, framed by the belts, were squeezed anytime she moved, only heightening the beautiful experience. The velvety walls squeezing around his tongue, thighs shaking, breathing ragged. She was drenched now between the legs, by both her arousal and the spit, smearing it all over his face, but Eren was far from minding that.

And then she was gone. Muscles tight, her cunt gripped his tongue hard, pulsing around the wet intruder in an attempt to milk it. Mikasa’s body shook, her head fell back, a scream of pure ecstasy ripping from her throat.

“Eren, I…”, she moaned, the fire spreading into her, “Oh god!”

Her hips were moving on their own now, riding his face, using his tongue to keep herself engaged, to prolong her pleasure high as long as possible. Eren was completely on board with that. Not pulling back in the slightest, he kept on tongue fucking her, delving deep into her throbbing sex, drinking her in. She was high and feverish, head lost somewhere in the clouds of sex, feeling thoroughly satisfied. Mikasa couldn’t hold herself up anymore, and with Eren’s hands tied, there was no one to catch her as she collapsed, panting hard into his skin.

There was silence now when she wasn’t screaming anymore, a silence broken by their heavy breathing and the gentle buzz of the prostate massager. The way she fell, down at his stomach, placed her just a few inches away from his straining cock, dripping precum everywhere. There wasn’t a word to describe how much Eren needed a release anymore. Teased, being forced to eat his mistress out and feeling her cumming on top of him multiple times was hot as fuck, and with his vibed prostate added to the mix it was getting too much. Too fucking much to handle. Still, Mikasa took her time, getting her body back to work, stretching like a cat. Pushing herself up on all fours, knees digging almost painfully into his stomach, she turned to look at Eren, dragging a finger down his drenched face.

“Well that was something, puppy.”, pushing her fingers into his mouth, she let him suck on them, “You are so well trained, I adore your magical mouth…”

Eren wanted to reply to that, thank her, or maybe say that perhaps the reward in order, but whatever he wanted to say never left his mouth because Mikasa finally touched his cock, for the first time since letting him out of the cage. It wasn’t with her hands, she was facing him after all, but her feet slid down, taking his length between them, holding him between the instep of one and the bottom of the other foot. With this improvised hold, Mikasa began jerking him off, moving her legs up and down in a rhythmic motion. It wasn’t fair. No one was supposed to have this much of agility in their feet. Mikasa wasn’t even looking at what she was doing, content with watching his face, moaning around her fingers in his mouth, grinning like a cat.

“Poor baby, did you want to say something?”, her feet pumped him harder, the tips of her fingers scissoring as she forced his mouth open.

Eren was panting like a dog at this point, his tongue out, eyes blown and unfocused while she kept torturing him. An idea popping out in her head, Mikasa pursed her lips, letting a rope of spit fall. The process was slow, telegraphed, and if Eren didn’t want to participate he had plenty of time to turn his face away. But he didn’t. Instead, he let her spit into his mouth, opened and pliant and completely at her mercy. Fuck, that was hot. Dipping down, Mikasa kissed him, pushing her tongue into his mouth, the tempo of her footjob hard and fast. Combined with the massager, it was a lot of pleasure, more than Eren was able to handle, swelling against the cockring. It was supposed to stop him from cumming, but he was simply too overwhelmed, his body burned with the need. It couldn’t stop him from cumming but cruel as the toy was, it ruined the orgasm his dominatrix forced out of him. Leaking some pitiful dribble on Mikasa’s feet, Eren let out a pathetic whine, not finding any pleasure in this. He felt her grin against his mouth. It did nothing to lessen the pressure, it did not make him feel better, in fact, he was feeling worse now.  And Mikasa was not about to ignore that.

“Aw would you look at that.”, once again sliding down between his spread legs, she poked his leaking thing, still smiling. She was so cruel, it was unreal.

“This is some next level desperation, puppy, managing to cum even with the ring on. And just from my feet too.”

Just from her feet and the prostate massager, of course, but she gracefully omitted that vibrator deep in Eren’s ass. Face thoughtful, her fingers circled the engraved steel of the cockring.

“Maybe I should have pulled it tighter.”

To add insult to injury, she lowered her head, dragging her tongue over the side of his cock, licking it clean of its half-release, teasing him again. Life sucks when your cock is owned by such a cruel dominatrix.

“But such disobedience still warrants punishment.”, she added, back to being a strict dominatrix, “Babe, it’s time for your dick flattening.”

With that, she pushed down hard, pressing his cock against his stomach and forcing another whine from his throat. This wasn’t fair. Letting go, she stroked him, getting his erection going again before re-applying the pressure, flattening his dick back down. It was harsh, borderline painful, but she was having fun. And that’s what mattered.

“You like it?”, she asked, getting a weak shake of his head in reply, “Too bad, because I do.”

Turning up the heat, Mikasa stood up on the bed, lifting one leg and using her foot instead of her hand, stepping on Eren’s jewels. It was worse like this, with her weight pressing down, made even more unbearably when she grinded her heel against his cock, making him cry out. Ok, maybe cumming without permission was out of line, but it was a stupid ruined orgasm which he couldn’t control anyway. Having his dick flattened was not an appropriate response. Ignoring his wordless protest, Mikasa grinded down harder, pushing her foot right against the head, sadistic. She always lessened the pressure before increasing it again, giving Eren those little hopes that his punishment was complete. It wasn’t.

It would be a shame to flatten his dick completely. Eren had a nice cock, 10/10, long, thick, with well-shaped balls and all, but obedience was a base of a happy relationship, and Mikasa just had to punish him. It was her duty as Eren’s mistress to discipline her pet when he misbehaved.

“Anything you want to say in your defense?”, she queried, poking his swollen sack with her toes, “Or do you want me to completely crush your balls.”

“I’d… Uhm…. Pre-Prefer if you did-didn’t, mistress. Why would you destroy your property?”

Ooh, using her own reasoning against her. Cheeky, but Mikasa liked it.

“Good point.”, she surrendered, finally lifting her foot from Eren’s abused cock.

The punishment had to be more severe, but Mikasa wanted to be smarter about it. He came without permission, and while it was still an unfulfilling finish, it went against her wishes. Maybe she should show him just how unpleasant having your orgasm ruined can be. A smile appeared on her face. Yes, that was the perfect way to show Eren the error of his ways.

“Now then..”, back between his legs, she stroked the reddened length with a thoughtful expression on her face, “What am I going to do with you….”

Eren wasn’t in the position to decide his fate. Tied up, he shot a quick prayer towards heaven, hoping that Mikasa won’t pull out any more of her devilish scheme. He was wrong, of course, but he didn’t know that. Yet. Pausing for a moment, Mikasa retrieved the lube bottle and dribbled some of the cherry-scented liquid down on Eren’s length, massaging it all over him. It was always fun to have her hand turbo glide over his cock, with almost no resistance at all. Taking a firmer grip, she began pumping him, up and down at a steady tempo. Mikasa didn’t rush, but wasn’t too slow either, using her thumb to play with the head and increase the already dangerously spiking pleasure. Hearing his sounds, watching him squirm against the belts holding it down reminded Mikasa that she didn’t have to tire her hands, did she. Retrieving the Hitachi wand, she turned it on, pressing the vibrating head right against the tip of Eren’s cock. It felt powerful when she was vibing his cage, it felt insane when it was right on his oversensitive flesh. With a scream of a dying animal, Eren pulled on the bindings hard, the leather groaning in protest. But he couldn’t free himself, he couldn’t do anything, he was left in Mikasa’s hands, who undistracted by his actions continued, tracing all of his length with the wand. Moving down, she pushed it down against his balls, jerking him off with her free hand. It was too much again. With the vibrator in his ass, the wand at his balls, Mikasa’s skillful hand on his cock, Eren could feel it coming again, that wave that would grant him release but no pleasure, a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that he did not want to happen again.

“P-Please!”, he screamed, willing to do anything to be let free, “Mistress, I beg you, not again…”

“Oh?” As if she just noticed his struggle, Mikasa looked up with an arched eyebrow, “What do you want, puppy?”

“Please, let me out, please please…”, his words fell apart, becoming a pleading gibberish as he held her gaze, beyond desperate.

“You want me to take off the ring?”, she asked, tapping it with her nail.

He nodded immediately, more begging on his lips.

“You think I should let you cum?”, Mikasa wasn’t convinced, “Do you deserve it?”

Maybe it was a bad idea, but Eren couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Y-Yes... Please…”

She studied his face, black nails tapping against the steel ring.

“Very well, since you’re begging so nicely.”

The cockring clicked open, falling away, and Mikasa placed it next to the cage. Gone, but easily in her reach. Eren felt like he could fly, the infernal pressure was gone from around his base, he was free, so free. Well, if you didn’t count that he was tied to the bed, but that was insignificant. He was so lucky that his mistress was such a nice person, it was proof that she loved him so much. Shooting him a smile, Mikasa began stroking his cock again, her hand feeling so much better now that the ring was gone. The wand also clicked on, the buzz combining with the prostate massager that never stopped, finding its place under the head of his cock, pleasuring the most sensitive place. Eren was in heaven, the buildup rising and rising, the climax he deserved building in his beaten and bruised body, sure to be an amazing one. Yes, just a tiny bit more, last push and…

“You know, it’s amazing,”, her voice, coming into his barely coherent ears, Eren’s whole clenched in preparation for that amazing release she was building up for him, “All this training and still…”

Suspicion, creeping up his spine in reaction to the tone of her words, a thinly veiled threat in them.

“Still you think that you can tell me what to do.”, a tired sigh from her lips, but at the same time her hand sped up and he was close, so fucking close….

“The audacity.”

Eren broke. And she stopped, right at the same time, her hand rapidly sliding down to clamp hard at the base, replacing the cock ring with her fingers. The wand was also gone, and the vibrator went dead in his ass, the pleasure stopping. Yet he couldn’t stop it anymore. Eyes shooting open, Eren whined out loud in protest, his hips trying and failing to move, held down by the belts. He needed friction, something, anything to rub his cock on, to find that stimulation. Nothing, there was nothing, only the iron hold Mikasa had on his balls, denying him any sort of pleasure. Again. The wave crashed. Shaking, dribbling, Eren was mercilessly thrown into another ruined orgasm, a punishment from his cruel mistress, weakly leaking on his stomach. The dominatrix granted him no pleasure, she finished her pet off in the worst possible way, his cock going into that half-soft half-hard mode, only adding to his frustration. Body shaking, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, Eren couldn’t be more destroyed. Correction, he thought that he couldn’t be more destroyed. Mikasa disagreed.

When her tongue touched his ruined cock, when she sucked on him, Eren literally sobbed, unable to bear her anymore. How could she do this to him?

“N-No, please… Mistress…”, he looked down at her, down between his legs where she was bringing his cock back to life, ignoring his pleadings, “Not again, anything but this... Please!”

Her dark eyes met his, grey flashing into emerald, and Mikasa waited for a second, pausing in her torment. And Eren knew what she was waiting for. Is he going to use his safeword? Is he going to take that way out?

No. He couldn’t. Despite the suffering, despite being this used and abused, despite feeling like his consciousness could snap at any moment, Eren was loving this. Deep down, hidden, but it was there. The fact that Mikasa owned him, did what she wanted to him, this incredibly cruel and merciless, it rubbed the twisted parts of him so well. There could never be anyone else but her, Eren would never let anyone else ruin him like this. Just her, his dark goddess, his small tiddy goth gf, his cruel domme, his beloved mistress. Just Mikasa.

Seeing that he is silent, that he won’t give in, Mikasa went back to work. If Eren won’t back down, she certainly didn’t feel like stopping. Exploring his uttermost limits, balancing him on the edge, that was always worth it. He could fall, if he wanted to, but she would catch him.

Eren did his best to stay soft in her mouth, but that task was impossible. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to force his cock not to harden, how hard he pushed the erection back, it still happened. His body was still unsatisfied, it yearned for a proper release. Teased for this long, his balls felt like bursting, the two consecutive ruined orgasms brought him no satisfaction. But from the look on Mikasa’s face, that wasn’t happening. Resurrected, his length was once again standing at attention, making her smirk. Raising the Hitachi wand, again, she circled the head of his cock, loving the shuddering breath he took. Eren knew what was coming this time, knew that begging and pleading won’t save him.  He should have kept his fucking mouth shut, trying to tell Mikasa what she should do with her own cock. So what that it was attached to his body, it still belonged to her.

He closed his eyes, turned his head away. He tried to think about unsexy stuff. That wouldn’t work if he would look at her, Mikasa was fucking beautiful, naked porcelain skin glistening with sweat, black leather belts of the harness crossing her body, all the way from her choker down to her thighs. He loved how it made her tits stand out, the white framed by the black, how beautifully her abs looked, bathed in sweat. Yea, he couldn’t look at her, if he wanted to make his cock soft.

Still, it didn’t work.

The wand felt too good. Her mouth felt too good. It didn’t matter that the massager wasn’t turned back on, remaining a dead weight in his ass. Her hand, oh god her fucking hand. Mikasa just knew how to touch him, knew how to spread her fingers around him, knew where to push. He couldn’t win. Never. And to make it even worse, when the dominatrix saw how her slave tried to deny her, she did the worst thing possible.

She giggled.

Tears slid down his face. Why did she have to do this to him, and worse, why did he love it so much? Muscles clenching, Eren tried to push the rising tide back, to no avail, tried delaying his peak as much as he could, knowing that she’s just going to ruin it for him. Mikasa was keeping a close eye on his cock, her fingers always checking the glands, she knew exactly how his body reacted when he was close. He couldn’t trick her, he couldn’t stop her, he couldn’t do anything. It came, unstoppable as a hurricane, made him climb higher and higher until he tripped over the place of no return. And again, she denied him. For the third time that evening, Eren cried out while his cock finished with no stimulation, trembling with each spurt, for the third time he dribbled a pitiful amount of cum, for the third time he was kicked down from his height with no satisfaction. She tormented him until he was done, and then some more, adding post orgasm torture to the long list of things that she’s put her pet through tonight. Even as his length was going back into its half-soft state, she kept the wand going, her tongue drawing playful circles at the head. It made Eren afraid that perhaps Mikasa still wasn’t done, that she intends to ruin him again, but just as he was completely losing hope, she stopped. Putting the wand down, she looked over her handiwork, proud of what she’s done. Eren was humiliated, done, ruined. His cock was red and abused, balls still full to bursting, no release granted. He was openly crying, tears sliding down his face, body shaking as much as it could in the tight confines of the bondage.

If there was hell, Eren was tied down in the deepest circle, and the devil herself, hidden in the form of a beautiful woman, was tormenting him.

Job well done, Mikasa quietly congratulated herself, Eren was about as ravaged as a man could be. A bit tired from all those activities, her legs still feeling weak from how powerful her satisfying climax was, Mikasa decided to take a breather. A pause in all this madness to collect her bearings and decide how to play with her pet further. The night was still young. Digging into her box of wonders, Mikasa pulled out another piece, crawling to where Eren’s head was. Her puppy was unresponsive, looking away, his face so sad that it tugged at her heart. Just a little bit. To get some reaction out of him, to wake him up from that lethargy, Mikasa put her head close to his chest, teasing one of his nipples with the tip of her tongue. Eren’s nostrils flared, but he still refused to look at her, didn’t want to fall for her charms again just to be let down.

“Puppy, don’t sulk.”, she tried, a certain artificial sweetness in her voice.

If anything, it made him sulk harder. Oh well, she tried to be nice. When the cold metal clamp bit down into his nipple, Eren finally did something, hissed in pain to be exact. His teary eyes found her face, a silent pleading written in his features. But no, Mikasa wouldn’t relent. Eren could always safeword out, and if he wouldn’t do it, she had reason to spare him from her sadistic machinations. She put the metal jaws on his other nipple too, the chain connecting the clamps rattling. With that out of the way, Mikasa took the leather hood she had brought, grabbing a fistful of Eren’s hair and roughly angling his head so she can slip it over him. It cut off his vision and hearing, covering his eyes and ears by a thick amount of the material. Then it was time to take care of his mouth, so pushing two fingers into it, Mikasa pried it open, gagging Eren with a rubber ball. He didn’t fight her when she secured the strap around the back of his head but didn’t help her either, choosing apathy as his defense mechanism against her sadism. Too bad that Mikasa didn’t mind, she was sure that the next batch of toys would cut through that like a hot knife through butter.

The toy looks unassuming, just like a small open cuff or a sheath, but from what she heard on the internet, it was supposed to be powerful. No better time to try than now. First, she retrieved the ring from where she put it, clicking it closed around his cock again. It would help maintain his erection and prevent him from cumming to a degree, and Mikasa wanted to continue having fun. He was still half-soft, his body recovering from the shock of the ruined finish, but that didn’t matter, the toy should work even on a fully flaccid penis. The placement was important, and Mikasa made sure to slide the thing so the vibrating plate would be in the right place, the underside of the head, the most sensitive place. The wings of the toy hugged his shape, holding the whole thing. Mikasa’s work was uninterrupted by any sounds from Eren, who was lost in complete darkness, blind, deaf and mute. He could feel her fingers on his cock, locking it into some infernal contraption again, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Just wait. And fear what was about to come.

Right, so did she forget anything? Cockring? Check. The vibrating toy secured on his penis? Check. Prostate massager still in place? Check. Gag? Check. Hood? Check. The bindings? Check. Yup, it’s game time. Sliding down from the bed, Mikasa took a seat, watching Eren’s motionless form on the bed. This position, him tied up and helpless, his senses taken away, her, with the remotes in hands and fully in power, this was exactly what he did to her not that long ago. That time, she was the one on the bed, tied to the frame and in Eren’s hands, but their positions were now reversed. And it was time to show him just how amazing it is, to be subjected to a complete sensory deprivation and have your weak spots attacked at the same time. Clicking the remotes in her hands on, Mikasa brought the toys to life.

When the massager woke up, Eren groaned into the gag. He almost forgot that he had it stuck in his ass all this time, most of his attention focused on the torment his crotch received. Then, the clamps Mikasa put on his nipples followed, also vibrating, because why the hell not. And then, just as he thought that this was it, the sheath that she slid his cock in joined in. Whoever came up with the toy had a rather good idea about male anatomy, because the vibrating plate was pressed right against his frenulum, making the toy very effective. His cock was back in full-on hard mode before he realized what was happening. So this is what it felt like. Eren had no control over the situation, he was tied to the bed and sex toys were vibrating against the most vulnerable parts of his body. There was nothing he could do to affect his position in any way, his fate was in Mikasa’s hands. Unable to bear it silent anymore, he threw his head back, the leather of the hood sliding across the bedding and screamed into the gag, the sound effectively muffled. Nope, nothing. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t speak. Couldn’t make her stop. Just lay right there and take it.

Mikasa was loving this. Watching Eren writhe on the bed, his head snapping from side to side in futile attempts to do something, hands, and legs pulling at the cuffs as he tried to free himself. It didn’t help, not even when he pulled with all his strength, making his muscles stand out so nicely beneath the skin. With the belts securing him to the mattress, Eren couldn’t even shift his hips to lessen the pressure. Fuck, but this was hot. Before Mikasa even realized what she was doing, her hand found its way between her legs, fingers touching her engorged clit. When the tips of her fingers slid across her wet nub, she stopped herself, staring down with wide eyes. Was she seriously going to finger herself while watching Eren tied to the bed, fighting against the vibro-torture she put him in? Slowly, her lips spread into a grin.

Fuck yes.

Grabbing the neglected Hitachi wand, not needed by her puppy as Eren had other toys entertaining him, Mikasa turned it on and pressed it against her pulsing clit, sighing happily. Eyes glued to her lover’s bound body, she stared as he shook, drinking in those delicious sounds muffled by the gag. Sweat was gliding down over his muscles, making them glisten so perfectly. It was like watching a scene from a movie, the torment of a fallen angel, Eren’s silent battle against the machines was beautiful to behold. His body, all hard muscle and planes of smooth skin, restricted by her devilish hand, tormented because she wanted him to. Observing the fruits of her labor, Mikasa felt powerful and in control and it did make wonders for her arousal. Putting one leg on the chair, spreading herself open, she pushed two fingers into her wet opening, a moan falling from her lips. While Eren could find no release, the ring working as intended, he was left to stay on the edge endlessly, Mikasa worked herself to a solid peak. Fingers deep inside her clenching cunt, wand working against her swollen clit, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her helpless puppy. Her pet was doing his best to stay sane, the toys breaking and entering into places that should remain locked. Eren couldn’t even hear her moans, couldn’t see how she worked herself between the obscenely spread legs. Melting into the sofa, Mikasa came on a deep shove of her digits, chest heaving, using the wand to prolong the orgasm for herself. Oh yeah, this was the stuff. The wand falling from her fingers, Mikasa leaned back, calming herself, eyes not leaving Eren even for a second. Watching him squirm, watching him fight and lose against the bondage he was in, watching the toys buzz against his body, she came to a decision. His ass was surely more than prepared by now, the prostate massager working him for some time, and Mikasa did want to fuck him before the play was done. No time like the present. But when she tried standing up, her exhausted legs couldn’t hold her, and Mikasa fell back into the chair. Okay, maybe in a moment. For now, she would just relax and watch that nice spectacle happening in front of her on the bed. After calming down, she would walk over to the place where their toys were, pick out her favorite strap-on and fasten it around her hips. She would climb into the bed and fuck the lights out of Eren. But for now, she would just watch and enjoy the show. Her puppy wasn’t going anywhere, the tight bondage made sure of that.

Eren didn’t know how much time has passed, he had no way of measuring it. It felt like ages since Mikasa took his senses away from him, since she turned the toys on and left him cooking in his own sweat. Robbed of any way to influence his well-being, Eren was reduced to a moaning mess, pulling at the cuffs in desperate attempts to break free, but deep down he knew that they won’t give. They didn’t. He could only be let out by Mikasa’s grace, and she was especially cruel tonight. The dominatrix could keep him tied to the bed as long as she wanted to. Eren couldn’t even think, the toys robbed him of any ability to form coherent thoughts, placed expertly and abusing him without a pause. Just as he was slowly coming to terms with being turned into another piece of furniture, the toys switched off and fingers appeared. Not on his face as he expected, instead they were between his legs pulling at the vibrator. It left his ass with a wet sound caused by the copious amounts of lube Mikasa used to push it in, making his muscles automatically clench around the sudden emptiness. After that, she removed that sheath from his cock, and even the clamps were opened, making Eren’s body free of the infernal machines. With the hood still on his head, he couldn’t see what Mikasa was doing, but Eren had the creeping feeling that his butt won’t remain free for a long time. For once, he was correct.

To get the desired angle, Mikasa had to untie his legs, placing them around her hips instead. With that out of the way, she grabbed the strap-on at the base, carefully guiding it into his stretched opening. The rubber head of the dildo slipped between parted ass cheeks, tracing over his perineum until Eren was trembling and clenching in anticipation. He knew what was coming. Finally, she pushed her hips forward, invading his private area with the toy. The stretch was delightful, the cold hard plastic pushing deeper and deeper into his ass with every movement of her hips. She pulled back before pushing forward, worked her way in, didn’t rush anywhere. Mikasa rolled her hips, the toy rubbing over his inner walls, and Eren cried out into the gag.

It was time to fully reward her pet, he deserved it for taking the dildo so well. Mikasa grabbed Eren’s shins, pushing and guiding, lifting his legs. She moved her hands to his knees, pressing them into his chest, practically bending him in half as his whole body curved and his ass stuck out, the strap-on still buried deep inside it. With this better angle at her disposal, Mikasa began fucking her pet in the earnest.

Her thrusts picked up the tempo. Deeper. Faster. Nudging against sensitive walls as his legs tensed up against her. Her hips slapped against his ass driving her rubber cock home. His knees were pressing into his chest almost painfully, but he didn’t even feel it, his entire brain fogged with Mikasa fucking his ass. Knowing how to move, how to rotate her hips, the tip of the dildo pressed against Eren’s prostate, the sounds he was making behind the gag rising getting a new tone of intensity.

His cock throbbed between his legs, begging for attention, tears flowing from his eyes. She couldn’t see that thought, his face was hidden from her by the leather hood, but from how his body reacted to her, Mikasa knew that she was doing good. Faster still, in the perfect angle, hitting that sweet spot deep inside him again and again. Her thrusts were near brutal now. She was determined to make him cum just from her fake cock, there was no need to touch that weeping thing between his legs. Eren could cum like that, Mikasa has done that in the past and was about to repeat that achievement. Letting go of his legs for a second, she removed that restrictive device from his cock, her pet deserved to finally be granted a full release. Hooking her hands underneath his knees after, she pressed them higher, perfecting the angle she was fucking him at.

“Cum for me.”, she growled through gritted teeth, “Just like this, cum for me.”

Keeping up the cruel pace, uncaring that he was sobbing beneath her again, Mikasa kept rubbing his prostate with the tip of the toy. His skin was feverish, molten fire in his veins, the sensation too much and not enough at the same time. Time passed, her thrusts changed experimentally but were always aimed for that sweet spot inside him. Mikasa circled her hips, snapped them up, rotated them, tireless abdominals allowing her to play with no limitations. There was darkness, there was silence, there was the soft but firm hug of his bindings, and then there was the rubber cock inside his ass, hammering away. Eren felt like Mikasa had fucked any sense of intelligence out of him. He couldn’t think, his vision had black spots even in the darkness of the hood, his ears were full of rushing blood. His ass hurt from how strongly she fucked him, the burn in the muscles of his legs becoming more prominent the longer he had them pressed against his chest.

And then it hit him.

Like a fire, one deep hit was enough to send him over the edge. The gag, completely drenched in drool by now, was put to test as Eren screamed, body convulsing beneath her, cock throbbing as ropes of cum shot from it. His first real orgasm in a week, and it was an insanely powerful one, fucked from him by Mikasa’s strap-on without her laying a finger on his cock. It caked his stomach, reaching even as high as his chest, his ass clenching around the dildo buried inside it. Seeing that she had done it, Mikasa slowed down her movements but didn’t stop, knowing that if she kept fucking him it would make the whole experience even better. It did. The prolonged finish was like something from Eren’s wildest dreams. The sensory deprivation helped, with eyes and ears covered his brain wasn’t receiving any other information but that overwhelming pleasure, spreading from his prostate into his whole body. Mikasa milked him for all that he was worth, milked his prostate with the practiced movements of her hips, forcing Eren to surrender everything that he had. His cum, his essence was an offering to the goddess, and she was a greedy one.

He was gone, too far gone to even feel when Mikasa stopped moving, sure that she fucked everything out of him, milked her pet to the last drop. His legs were beginning to cramp when she allowed him to lower them back to the bed, moving on to the last part of the play. The aftercare. Unclasping the harness from her waist, she put the strap-on down to be cleaned later. It served them very well, but now it was time for the dom to take care of her submissive. Removing the nipple clamps first, putting them away, Mikasa began to free her beloved puppy. The hood slipped away from his face, drenched by tears. The gag was quick to follow, connected to his swollen lips by ropes of spit as Mikasa pulled it away.

“Eren? Baby?”, caressing his cheek, she got his attention, although his eyes were still very unfocused, mind flying somewhere very high, “Does anything hurt? Are you okay?”

He stared at her for a few seconds, digesting the words before his brain translated them.

“M’fine…”, he finally managed to let out, making a large weight fall from her shoulders.

Mikasa was genuinely worried to see him like this, usually fast reaction slowed to the speed of a slug. Playing rough was nice and all, but even mistress Ackerman had to make sure that Eren was truly okay, that she didn’t hurt him in her wild abandon. Buckle after buckle, she undid the bindings that held him to the bed, rubbing his wrists. They had red circles around, a proof of how hard Eren pulled on the bindings, but other than that there was no serious damage. His chest was scratched, his nipples were abused, but the worst was done in the places between his legs. Eren’s ass was reddened from how powerfully she fucked him, the place where her hips slapped into it almost welted. His cock was also mercilessly abused, now softened and shrunk, when his need was finally satisfied. She would take care of that damage, rub some cream into it, make sure that he recovered properly. But now, there was something else that Eren craved, and Mikasa knew exactly what to do. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she gently pulled his body towards her, putting Eren’s head into her lap. Stroking his overlong hair, she hummed a soothing melody, waiting for him to come back to reality.

It happened slowly. Minutes passed, more and more life coming back into his eyes, his mind returning from the subspace back to normal. Reaching out, Eren wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling himself closer until he could press his face into her stomach, just taking in her scent, breathing against her skin. She still had that leather harness around her body, and Eren was still collared, but there was time for that later. Keeping a rhythm going, she kept caressing him, giving Eren the privilege of choosing when he wants to move on. He would do that, but in time, now he was perfectly content with just resting on her thighs, having his head stroked and listening to her beautiful voice.

“Mikasa?”, he finally said after a long while, interrupting her melodic humming.

“Yes?”

“You’re a monster.”, a shaky inhale, “Those things you’ve done to me…”

That made her cringe a little bit, hand faltering where she was touching him. Did she let herself go too wild? Did she overdo it?

“I’m sorry, baby, was it too much?”

He rolled on his back, staring up into her worried face. Mikasa was biting her dark bottom lip in anticipation, unsure what to do, but her fears started melting away when a huge grin spread across Eren’s lips.

“You’re a monster,”, he repeated, “And I love you for it. This was….”

Honestly, he didn’t even know the words to describe what happened correctly.

“This was amazing, all that teasing, all those ruined climaxes…. When you finally allowed me to cum, it was an otherworldly experience, I blacked out for a short while. No joke.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed it.”

“Enjoyed it is a weak word. I adored it.”, his eyes sparkled, “Just as I adore you, my queen.”

“You’re lucky that you are so cute.”, she said, booping his nose, “Otherwise I might have been forced to slap you for such cheesiness.”

“Really? And since I am that cute, what is going to happen?”

She pretended to think for a moment before snapping her fingers.

“Got it! I’m going to kiss you.”

Bending down, she pressed her lips against his, swallowing that laugh that bubbled from his chest. Soon, she was laughing too, and the kiss was messy and full of promise. When they stop kissing, Mikasa will finally strip from that harness, remove the choker from her throat and the earrings from her ears. Eren will let her unbuckle the collar from his neck and she will put it right next to hers, a nice set for the kinky couple that they were. They will take a long bath, massaging each other’s sore muscles and joking about what happened. After that, Mikasa will rub some cream into Eren’s ass and chest, easing the sting of the wounds he collected. With all that done, they will cuddle on the cleaned bed together, falling asleep in each other’s arms after whispering sweet nothingness just for the two of them to hear. Knowing that, it is better to just leave them alone for now, as it would be rude to trespass on such an intimate moment.

Wouldn’t it?

[artificialqueens]

(Treat me nice) Never let me go, 12/15 (Branjie) - Pinkgrapefruit

[ chapter 12. they say that the world was built for two ]

They end up in a big park, laying on a picnic blanket and watching the clouds go by. There aren’t many, but the few there are have fun interpretations. Vanessa is briefly convinced that one looks like a giraffe, but after much jibing from Brooke, they come to the conclusion that maybe it’s just a big tree.

Vanessa unpacks the spread they’d gotten from the hotel kitchen as Brooke fiddles with the little wireless radio she apparently just always keeps in her suitcase. This fact had caused Vanessa to laugh for a solid five minutes when Brooke had put it in the picnic basket.

[ pretty woman au ]

A/N - hope you enjoy! not long left now <3

They’re dancing - or at least trying to dance. The clock hand has just made it’s way past ten, and Vanessa’s head rests gently on Brooke’s chest as she sways them around in a rudimentary waltz. Their bodies are pressed together in a way that sparks warmth down past Vanessa’s navel and it only makes her push closer to Brooke’s tall form. The blonde has one warm hand pressed against the small of Vanessa’s back and the brunette mewls softly at the ministrations of Brooke’s fingers. She places an open mouth kiss on Brooke’s exposed clavicle and goes back to the mindless swaying.

They’d been trying to recreate a more dramatic dance, but the day they’d had, filled with nothing much, had left them exhausted to the point of just swaying together.

“We should finish this tomorrow,” Brooke whispers into the loose waves of Vanessa’s hair as if ‘this’ was anything at all. Vanessa mumbles in response, causing Brooke to scoop her into her arms and carry her across the room to the bed. She’s dressed only in one of Brooke’s large white shirts, buttoned over a pair of black panties, and it exposes the lengths of Vanessa’s legs.

“31 inches of therapy,” Brooke mumbles to herself in a half-joke as she unbuttons the shirt. She takes off her own (better fitting) shirt and shifts, so she is under the covers, Vanessa’s head on her chest.

“G'night, Ness,” she whispers, but the brunette is already softly snoring. She presses a kiss to her forehead and tries to sleep herself.

*

Brooke wakes naturally with the rising sun, but she still enjoys Vanessa clinging to her like an oversized koala. They didn’t shut the curtains, so the Sun illuminates the brunette in a golden light making her look almost ethereal. She stretches like a cat, eyes screwed shut as Brooke giggles to herself.

“Morning, sunshine,” she quips, and Vanessa frowns, eyes still closed.

“Shut up,” she says, voice hoarse in the morning. She snuggles back against Brooke’s side and sighs deeply. “It’s such a nice day,” she tells her and then, opening her eyes to peek up at Brooke’s face, “can you not go to work?”

Brooke lets out a throaty chuckle and sets down the email she’d been working on. “Me?” She asks jokingly. “Not work?” Then she softens. “I do own the company, and it is a nice day.” She points out, and Vanessa nods lazily against her chest.

She sighs and tries to make it sound begrudging, but even then there is a lightness to it. “I’ll email Ru.”

*

They end up in a big park, laying on a picnic blanket and watching the clouds go by. There aren’t many, but the few there are have fun interpretations. Vanessa is briefly convinced that one looks like a giraffe, but after much jibing from Brooke, they come to the conclusion that maybe it’s just a big tree.

Vanessa unpacks the spread they’d gotten from the hotel kitchen as Brooke fiddles with the little wireless radio she apparently just always keeps in her suitcase. This fact had caused Vanessa to laugh for a solid five minutes when Brooke had put it in the picnic basket.

When it switches onto ‘What the Folk’, Vanessa erupts into another fit of laughter, head falling back onto Brooke’s lap - hair in a halo around her.

They eat strawberries with the juices running down their wrists, sticky and saccharine sweet.

The sun warms their cheeks just enough to alert the freckles on Brooke’s nose that blush a copper tone. Vanessa traces them with a warm finger, light and airy.

When the sun starts to fall from its peak in the sky, they’re laying on the plaid blanket. Vanessa is on her back, eyes closed peacefully while Brooke is propped up on her elbows, quietly reading “Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief”, putting on different voices to imitate the Minotaur. Vanessa snorts.

She sits up so quickly Brooke thinks the world might be on fire - the brunette looking around frantically until she spots what she heard.

A baby.

She stands quickly, brushing off her little summer dress and paddling her toes into the grass before running over to the pram.

Brooke just watches, eyes wide and full of mirth as Vanessa coos over the baby. She can’t see it, but she can see Vanessa’s face and it makes her cheeks hurt.

Vanessa pads back over a few minutes later, falling back onto the blanket with a harumph. She turns her head, so she can see Brooke and smiles serenely.

“God, it was so cute, Brooke,” she exhales, going back to watching the way the clouds move. “I want a baby.”

Brooke snorts, eyes widening. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that,” she quips, making a vague gesture to her lack of a penis and Vanessa giggles.

*

At about three, when Vanessa’s legs are a pleasant shade of pink and the back of Brooke’s neck is dripping beads of sweat, they head to a nearby coffee shop. They pick a table outside - with wire chairs that will leave indents in Vanessa’s bare thighs, but the table is shaded and not indoors and stuffy, so it’s a win. They order iced coffees and let the condensation roll down their fingers.

They feed each other macaroons and watch the people stroll down the street in their shorts and t-shirts, rolling their eyes at the occasional shirtless men.

By the time they think about dinner, Vanessa is sleepy from the sun so Brooke calls for the car and the brunette curls into her side. Brooke smiles, soft and sweet and the kind that is entirely private.

Vanessa perks up again as they near Olympic and taps at Brooke’s arm to get her attention.

“What’s with you? You’re fidgeting. What’s wrong?” She asks, eyebrows scrunched as she looks quizzically at Vanessa.

“Um,” She shifts uncomfortably, “there’s a club up here that I’d like to stop at for a second to see my roommate if that’s okay?” Brooke hasn’t seen her this uncomfortable in days.

“Absolutely,” she replies, smiling, trying to reassure.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Darryl, can you just pull up into the back alleyway please?” The driver, Darryl, looks bemused in the mirror.

“Trixie’s?” He asks, tone vaguely joking.

“Trixie’s,” Brooke affirms.

“Very colourful life you lead,” he quips.

Vanessa leans into Brooke, pushing a chaste kiss onto her cheek. “I just wanna run in for a minute and see if she’s there, so you just stay here,” she tells her before she jumps out of the cab and runs into the club.

“I’m hoping they don’t spot this limousine as it is,” Brooke mutters, and Darryl sticks his head around the chair and smiles at her.

“I’ll block it with my body,” he sighs and she believes him.

*

Katya spots her the second she steps through the door and it doesn’t surprise Vanessa - she’s pretty sure she looks out of place in her dainty summer dress and kitten heels. Katya is dressed in fishnets, shorts, and a red lace bralette.

“Ness! You’re looking good! You win the lottery?” Katya jokes, swinging an arm around Vanessa’s neck and pressing her red lips against her cheek. “Me and Trix have missed you round here!”

Vanessa smiles at her and it’s genuine. She hates that she feels out of place in the place that used to be her home. “Hey, Kat, have you seen Silk?” She asks, voice soft.

“No, not since Tuesday,” Katya replies with her eyebrows quirked.

They wander over to the bar which has Trixie leaning against it - tea towel thrown over her pink crop top. “Heya, hunnie,” she says with her eyes crinkled and warm. Her southern twang always makes Vanessa feel warm.

“You seen Silk?” Vanessa asks earnestly.

“I think she went to Santa Barbara,” Trixie tells her with her teeth pressed into her bottom lip.

Vanessa grins at the information. “Brilliant!” She announces enthusiastically, waving a hand when Trixie tries to offer her a tequila shot. “Here’s my number where I’m gonna be for the rest of the week. Have her call me, okay?”

“Okay, hunnie,” Trixie tells her with a motherly pat on the shoulder, and Vanessa beams at her because there aren’t enough words to say what Trixie and Katya have done for her.

She steps out of the club feeling fulfilled, but immediately reaches a scene of Brooke and Darryl standing outside the Limo with a kid in a bandanna.

“What’s going on out here?” She asks, a lot more jovial than the situation asks for.

Brooke scowls at her amusement. “I don’t know. You left and all of a sudden I’m in the middle of ‘West Side Story’,” she quips, and it makes Vanessa chuckle.

The kid in the bandanna turns and Vanessa sees it’s one of the ones who run up and down the street stealing the girls’ money. He looks at the envelope she’d been meaning to give to Silky and smirks. “I think you owe me some money, baby,” he tells her and she goes against Brooke’s violent head shaking by just raising her eyebrow.

She holds up the envelope. “Two hundred dollars,” she tells him, and he eyes it carefully. She knows she’s scrappy, but she also lost her acrylic nails, so she’s a little less confident in her ability to take this dude if he fucks with her.

“Don’t you got school tomorrow?” She asks mockingly and he makes a noise close to a hiss.

“Let’s just leave,” Brooke tries to say calmly, but she’s clearly never been mugged by a teen with a knife before because her voice shakes.

“You ain’t goin’ no place,” the kid tells them.

“Hey-”

“You’re outta your neighbourhood. This ain’t no Beverly Hills!” Vanessa almost laughs, but she catches herself. This is more real than she thought.

“He has a knife,” Brooke mutters to Darryl and he places his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket.

“All right, okay,” Darryl steps up and his size appears to intimidate the kid slightly. “This is what’s going to happen. You believe she owes you money?”

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause this is my block.”

“His block?” Brooke asks, and she still can’t keep her voice smooth. Vanessa looks at her like you look at a sad puppy.

“He’s a drug dealer and a mugger. It has to do with Silky,” Vanessa clears up.

The kid doesn’t seem happy with the conversation going on in the middle of his mugging, so he raises his knife again prompting Darryl to pull the small handgun from his left pocket.

The kid runs and Brooke collapses against the car.

“Damn, Darryl,” Vanessa quips, eyes shocked, but still entertained. She rubs a soothing hand on Brooke’s back as the woman catches her breath. For someone who has been around criminals before she’s panicking like someone who’s never been at odds with a knife. Vanessa supposes she might not have been.

“I have a license, don’t worry,” Darryl tells her, putting the safety back on the gun and placing it securely back in his pocket.

Once they’re comfortably back in the car, Vanessa lets her head fall on Brooke’s shoulder again.

“Does Darryl always carry a gun?” She asks, and Brooke intertwines their fingers.

“When he drives me, yes, always.”

*

Vanessa steps into the bedroom as Brooke naps. They both ate their dinner in robes and then Vanessa watched “Beauty and the Beast” while Brooke disappeared to the bedroom and never returned.

“She sleeps,” she quips as Brooke shifts, eyes fluttering open and a lazy smile trailing across her face.

“Well we all have our issues,” Brooke rebukes, and Vanessa moves across the room to sit with her on the bed. With Vanessa sat up, Brooke places her head on her lap and lets Vanessa card her fingers through her hair.

Brooke mocks snoring and it makes Vanessa chuckle, slowing her hand movements.

They end up looking into each other’s eyes for a little too long, and maybe it’s because they were frightened with the mugging or maybe the day just made them vulnerable, but they find themselves leaning in before they can stop themselves.

Their lips meet soft and slow - open-mouthed. It sets butterflies loose in Vanessa’s belly, warming her from the inside as she deepens it.

Brooke finally lets her go, pecking her on the nose with a shallow exhale. Her heart is pounding and it rattles in her ribcage.

Later, when she thinks Vanessa is asleep, she whispers ‘I love you’.

If Vanessa hears, she doesn’t make a sound.

[screensirenfic]

Black Leather - Chapter 8

I’d had to wait an additional twenty minutes at Steve’s house, because despite his near fanatical dedication to Farah Faucett; his hair had continued to fall flat.

Lucky for him, Nancy was there, otherwise I would’ve broken down the damn bathroom door and shaved the birds nest off myself.

Eventually; he’d managed to get his hair to a reasonable level of poofiness, and we’d gotten to Tina’s just an hour after the start time on the flyer; fashionably late without it being too busy to make an entrance.  

Sitting in the backseat of Steve’s thankfully spacious BMW gave me front row seats to the newfound awkwardness between Hawkins most beloved royal couple.

Despite Steve’s insistence that everything was fine between the pair and that Nancy was just still upset about Barb; I couldn’t help but feel there was a bigger void between them than that. One that was gradually getting bigger by the day, judging by the near complete lack of conversation for the entire car ride over.

He wouldn’t even let me talk to her for him; insisting he could handle it himself, but Steve really didn’t know girls like I did.

There was something big on Nancy’s mind; something that parties and corny jokes alone wasn’t gonna fix.

“That is a lot of carnage...” Steve remarked, drawing my eyes from the world’s slowest relationship train wreck, to the much more literal train wreck outside my window.

The word “carnage” was putting it lightly.

The party had already spilled out onto the street; bodies in varying stages on unconsciousness littering the front lawn like the vast amount of beer cans and bottles surrounding them. Those that were conscious were reveling in a variety of vices, from cigarettes to cheap booze to near all out sex on the AstroTurf. High school partying at its finest.

“Half the school must be here!” Remarked Nancy; eyes wide at the near renaissance painting of absolute debauchery outside.

“You got that right...” Agreed Steve as he slowed his car to park; and if Hawkins High’s keg king said that it was a rager, then she must be right.

Steve eventually found a space just outside Tina’s house; surprising considering the sheer amount of people present, however I guess most people considered a night in Hawkins PD’s cells too steep a price to pay for one night of drinking and dancing.

We got out of the car, and already the music hit our ears at full blast; someone’s parents were gonna get a lot of noise complaints in the morning.  

“We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off” was the song of choice, but clearly the song’s message fell on deaf ears, as most of the boys were down to shorts and skins, and the girls in even less.

Steve led the way through the highway to hell, ringing the doorbell to Tina’s, which chimed out in an almost comedic rendition of “Messiah” considering the situation.

Moments later, the door swung open to a smiling Tina, dressed in a skimpy leotard and fishnets, in what must’ve been a cat costume considering the black velvet ears in her perm.

“Steve! Nancy! Love the costumes!” She exclaimed with such enthusiasm; it must’ve been partially forced.

“Risky Business; right?” She asked, taking note on the pair’s cute matching black and white combo.

“And Lola! You’re..?” Her ever expanding smile faltered as she struggled to work out what exactly a tartan miniskirt and a Bon Jovi tank top had to do with Halloween.

“A vampire.” I replied with a fake smile, showing off the plastic fangs glued to my canines. She wasn’t the only one who could feign enthusiasm.

“Well; you all look so great...” She spieled; that plastic smile returning even quicker than it fell.

“Why don’t you come on in and get a drink...” She beckoned us in as she led us further into her temporary den of teenage rebellion.

Costume party could be used very loosely to describe what Tina’s Halloween party was.

People wore costumes alright; ones that made them look sexier, less restrained, more depraved. Anything from a pair of sunglasses, to an oversized bedsheet counted here; and trust me, someone had tried them all. My outfit honestly looked like a nun’s in comparison to some of the other girls.

Since when did lingerie count as a Halloween costume?

“Looks like a good party.” Steve remarked, though I wondered if it was only for our host’s sake.

“Yeah. If you like cheap liquor and herpes...” I muttered, earning myself a chuckle from him; so we were on the same page.

I glanced around the room, unable to believe people had managed to get this fucked up in an hour. There had to be some pregaming, or a high amount of class C drugs involved; definitely drugs, judging by the smoke in the air.

I was definitely gonna have to do the laundry before dad got home.

My eyes glanced over to the living room where some jock was spread out on the coffee table, whilst a line of cheerleaders did body shots off his chest.

I was definitely gonna need a drink to get through tonight.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink...” I told Steve, not waiting for a response as I slipped through the crowd towards the kitchen and what would hopefully be semi drinkable booze.

—————————————————

The liquor was shitty; the punch wasn’t much better, but still better to suffer the taste and be drunk, than suffer the company sober.

God knew there was nothing worse than being the only sober one in a crowd of drunks.

Steve had long abandoned me for his princess, in yet another attempt to drown an underlying uneasiness with cheap alcohol and fake happiness. Jonathan was a no show, but there was no surprises there, and I was kinda wishing I’d done the same, even if it’d cost me my left ear to Steve’s nagging.

The only consolation was that Billy Hargrove hadn’t spoken to me once. It was quite possible he hadn’t even noticed me; he was so sucked into the superficial cloud of party popularity that seemed to circle him like a storm.

Every girl in their fake leather biker boots and discount rack leather jackets was hanging off him, in a poor attempt to act as my replacement; as if being the resident basket case was as simple as smudging on a bit of eyeliner and smoking more Camels than usual.

I don’t think Billy was convinced; his mind so preoccupied with stealing Steve’s crown that he didn’t have time to think about getting laid.

No doubt when he came back down to earth; I’d be the first person he’d have in mind to help with that little problem.

But for now; my night looked relatively sleaze free. No one had tried to hit on me since Billy had taken an interest; probably valued their molars too much for that.

It’s strange to think that despite my total disdain for Billy and the clear message that I’d rather eat my own fingernails than date him; people still acted like he had some sort of “reservation” over me, as if I was unofficially “his girl”.

Right now, the man in question was challenging the royal reign of keg king; a position previously held by Steve, before Nancy had him saddled and bridled.

Even I had to admit; Billy Hargrove made quite the Lancelot to Steve’s Arthur. Billy had Steve in term of upper body strength; his keg stand lasting twice as long as Steve’s had, without any of the signature unsteadiness.

The keg court already loved him, counting down with unrivalled enthusiasm and chanting Billy’s name as if he’d just won a championship belt.

He’d even managed to steal Steve’s right hand man; Tommy H naturally taking his place behind the new alpha male, reminding me of a snappy hyena at his heels.

Billy’s keg stand finished on a impressive count of forty two; him touching ground soon after and spraying the crowd with lukewarm beer.

“That’s how you do it; Hawkins! That’s how you do it!” He yelled triumphantly, in that moment seeming more of a celebrity than the cocky asshole with a Camaro.

Even I had to admit that Billy seemed different tonight.

Maybe it was the punch talking, or the overall excitement of the crowd as they practically worshipped him like a god, but he just seemed larger than life.

He’d styled his hair different; his curls actually holding shape, rather than just falling into a dirty blonde mess. He also followed the crowd in terms of forgoing a shirt; just a leather jacket draped over his impressively built torso.

I could see why the other girls went crazy over him. Everything about him screamed dominance and raw testosterone.

Now Billy was walking my direction and I was running low on punch and confidence.

Yes; originally I’d planned to play the role of tease tonight, and drive Billy crazy with what he could see, but couldn’t touch. But he was forty two seconds of beer down and pumped up on the adoration of half the school, so I was having second thoughts.

Sober Billy was fun to tease, if not a little over persistent; drunk Billy was an unfamiliar entity that could turn out to be downright dangerous.

So I made my exit, slipping back into the crowd and relative anonymity.

—————————————

The kitchen looked like it had become the first fatality of what was sure to be a deadly night of binge drinking and bad decisions.

The tile floor now closely resembled a a swimming pool, complete with indeterminate objects that I had no intention of inspecting swimming on the surface.

The kitchen counters looked like the world’s largest game of beer pong, cups of various colours and fullness on every available inch of clear space. I didn’t even want to know what was in some of them; the smell of them strong enough to hit you from across the room.

I’d managed to find Steve and Nancy again earlier, though it was clear Nancy was well in her cups, and Steve was trying desperately to stop her from becoming any deeper.

I’d managed to convince her into trying something that didn’t have enough of an alcohol content to sedate a horse, but it seemed Tina had stockpiled just as many mixers as booze; though the former seemed vastly less popular.

I made my way back through the thick of the crowd, wanting to make sure I got Nancy something that’d actually stay down, rather than end up painted across the front of her sweater. I could already see the top of Steve’s hair, rising high above the crowd like a homing beacon; at least it wasn’t completely useless.

“Hey Nance; do you want soda or...” I began, threading through the crowd towards them, when I suddenly realised they weren’t alone.

I felt like I’d walked on set in the middle of one of those Wild West movies my dad liked to watch;  the sheriff facing off against the stranger in black.

Billy stood nearly chest to chest with Steve, looking as if he was moments away from flooring him, but at the sound of my voice his focus shifted; his demeanour no less predatory.

“Lola...” He purred, with a smirk that made me feel like he was undressing me with words alone. Up close I could see the evidence of his keg stand running down his tanned chest; slick trails threading between his taught abs.

Still; I kept stony, not trusting Billy in the slightest.

“Hargrove.” I spat; arms crossed over my chest in a way hoped said back off, but may have came across as nervous.

His smirk spread across his face; eyes falling to trail over my body, stopping at all the strategic points along the way.

”Like the costume...” He commented, wetting his lips as if I was desert on a platter. “Just like I imagined.”

I could already figure out exactly what he’d imagined, and I’m pretty sure it didn’t include clothes.

“Thanks.” I forced a smile faker than Tina’s attitude; dry and bitter just like half the booze on offer at this shithole of a party.

Still; Steve wasn’t gonna just stand around whilst Billy stared at me as if I was something from his private Playboy collection; the usurped king was instead experiencing a serious case of white knight syndrome.

“Hey; why don’t you back the hell off...” Steve warned, stepping forwards between me and Billy, so Billy could no longer blatantly leer at me.

It didn’t put his successor off in the slightest; Billy stepping past Steve as if he was an inanimate object to continue to proposition me.

“Why don’t you come and have a dance with me?” He asked with one of those smiles that made Tina turn into a shivering puddle of hormones.

“I’ll pass.” I replied with another dry smile, then turned to make a swift exit before he could come up with another bullshit reason to waste my time and my patience.

“Come on; sweetheart...” He purred, and I felt his hand lock around my wrist; not painfully so, but just firm enough to tell me that I’d leave when he let me, and not a moment sooner.

I gave him a dark look, because really? He was gonna try this with me?

But before I could give him the verbal lashing of a lifetime; Steve beat me to it, ripping Billy’s hand from my wrist with more force than I thought was possible for the doe eyed brunette.

“Dude; she said no!” Steve said, and despite his gentle chastisement; his face and tone told him that he wasn’t messing around.

But neither was Billy. He turned to Steve; his former aggression returning as quickly as it left.

“I’m sorry; I wasn’t aware you were her boyfriend...” Spat Billy; already ready to open an entire new can of worms and with it, let out a whole lot of alcohol infused testosterone.

Steve wasn’t gonna take it; though sometimes I really wish he would.

I really didn’t need saving; I’m goddamn Lola Hopper. Boys like Billy Hargrove should shit themselves when I approached.

But Steve; always the hero, came at him with all the verbal reasoning that Billy had no patience for.

“Just because she’s not my girlfriend; doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you drag her around like-“

But Billy truly didn’t have the patience or the mental capacity. He was half a keg in and looking for a fight.

Steve never got to finish his argument; Billy slamming him hard against the wall like some freshman, and not the previous reigning keg king.

“Excuse me?” Billy growled; his voice low and threatening, and really doing more for me than his sleazy flirting, but I had more important things to worry about than how Billy’s temper was a turn on!

My best friend was about to become an interestingly shaped stain on Tina’s parents’ wallpaper.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Harrington?” Billy’s voice dropped another octave; his body inches away from Steve’s and although he didn’t touch him,

I knew he was seconds away from knocking the noble idiot unconscious.

Even then, Steve couldn’t take a hint. Always honourable; he was prepared to go down fighting, but I wasn’t ready to see him become a martyr.

“Billy; I’ve changed my mind...” I quickly thought on my feet, slipping between the two of them in the vain hope that the possibility of physical contact on the table was enough to shake Billy out of his rage.

“I think I want that dance...” I forced a pretty smile, grabbing his wrist softly in the hope he might unclench his fists in favour of touching me again.

It wasn’t working. Billy was far too worked up; it was if I was invisible. So I moved a bit closer; letting my body brush up against his as I slipped my hand down to grab his.

“Come on; Billy. He’s not worth it...” I whispered; my voice just husky enough to hold a little promise.

“But I might be...” I gave him an impish smile; all raw sexuality and desire, one that I’d of previously thrown up at the prospect of exchanging with Billy Hargrove.

To my great relief; he relaxed, his shoulders lowering and his jaw unclenching. His hand wrapped around my own, squeezing with just a little bit of pressure; a reluctant retreat on the condition that I upheld my end of the bargain.

I took him by the hand and pulled him away from Steve, heading towards the dance floor and hopefully putting as much distance between the two alphas as possible.

But even now; Steve wouldn’t relent, stepping forward ready to defend my honour.

“Lola; you don’t have to...” He petitioned, as if I wasn’t doing this to protect him.

“It’s fine, Steve.” I reassured him, making the words more forceful than necessary in case his dumb overprotective brain continued to reject self preservation.

But of course; my pushy prospective dance partner couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Yeah, Steve; it’s fine.” He mimicked; his smirk so full of venom, I’m surprised it didn’t melt his pretty face off.

At last, Steve relented, letting me lead my volatile pretty boy onto the dance floor without blood on his knuckles.

————————————

Surprisingly; Billy was actually a semi decent dance partner. He kept rhythm well enough and gave me enough room that I didn’t feel he was trying to hump me in front of the whole school.

We were two songs down; “Dancing With Myself” pumping through the overdriven sound system, and I hadn’t once accidentally-on-purpose tried to step on Billy’s toes.

If I was to be painfully honest, and believe me; admitting this was painful, I was actually enjoying dancing with Billy.

When he wasn’t so heavily focused on appearing the bad boy, he was actually pretty cool. He smiled more often; a genuine warm smile that was nothing like that sleazy grin he used on me all the time. He was actually cute.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked after spinning me under his arm for the third time tonight; and I’m not sure if it was the dizziness or the alcohol, but I was actually beginning to feel giddy.

“Yeah; why?” I replied with a smile; my gaze getting lost in those bright baby blues that were staring at me with something other than lust.

“It’s just; it’s been half an hour and you haven’t threatened to shiv me with a beer bottle...” He joked; yeah, actually joked, with a wide smile on his face.

And God! His face just lit up when he was being genuinely funny and not an ass; and for a split second I was hit with the almost uncontrollable urge to kiss him.

Almost uncontrollable. I reigned it in at the last minute; not trusting my tipsy brain to have that much control, at least not when it came to Billy Hargrove.

I bit my lip instead; feeling an honest to God blush spread across my cheeks.

“Shut up once in a while and it might happen more often...” I retorted, lowering my voice just enough that he could tell his joke hit right.

He just smiled, and my pulse just skipped another beat as he swept me into another spin; happy just to keep his body close to mine for the remainder of the night.

[toomanysurveys9]

Does anyone know your bank pin number other than you? Who?

Probably not.

Have you ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend who was depressed?

That’s usually my job. -insert eye roll-

Would you be able to climb out your bedroom window to sneak out?

I wouldn’t need to since I’m an adult, but probably not. I would need a ladder anyways to do it.

What would you do if you found out the last person you called was pregnant/got someone pregnant?

I don’t know who I last called even was.

Can you taste the difference between brand name food and store brand food?

Some things, yes.

Would you be embarrassed to buy pads/tampons/condoms? Which one more?

I used to be embarrassed to buy all of them. Now I just turn a little red when I am buying condoms.

If a stranger went in your bedroom, would they be able to tell what gender you are from just looking at it?

I doubt it. Since there are 4 people basically living in it.

Are your parents gullible?

My mom might be to some degree. She tends to read things on facebook and believe it too easily.

Do you still own a VCR?

My mom would like to buy one since we have a million VHS tapes, but no.

About how much money have you spent on food in the past two weeks?

Uh, like $55 or something.

If you were in a car accident would the last person you kissed care?

I would hope so since we’re married.

If you were looking for a new pair of shoes where would you go?

Probably Walmart. They’re cheap.

How much was the last pair of shoes you bought?

It was Converse, so more than I usually spend on myself.

What color is the computer/laptop you’re on? Did you buy it yourself?

Black, and no. My parents bought it for me right before I graduated college because the one I bought myself right after I graduated high school wasn’t holding up anymore.

Do you have a second home?

I do not.

Would you be surprised if you saw the last person you texted smoking?

Kind of, yeah.

Does the smell of cigarettes, weed and beer repulse you?

I don’t really enjoy the smell of any of those things, but especially cigarettes.

Was the last person you kissed younger or older than you?

He is younger by a whole 22 days.

Do you think people have any misconceptions about you?

Oh, I am sure they do.

Have you ever purchased Girl Scout cookies?

I have, but not usually for me. I don’t really care for them.

Do you like waffles?

Sure. I don’t eat them often though. 

Do you watch birthing videos on a day-to-day basis?

No. I used to watch birth vlogs on youtube when I was pregnant with Wyatt, but those don’t show everything. Just labor and then baby after, usually when they’ve been cleaned up a bit.

Do you find piercings/tattoos attractive?

Depends on the person, but sure.

Would you talk to someone you don’t know on the internet?

I have several times. 

How often do you drink Monster?

Pretty much never these days.

Have you ever made totally pointless videos with your friends?

When I was younger, I did that a lot.

Do you like to buy those Warped Tour compilations?

No idea what those are.

Do you like sitting on the inside or outside of a restaurant booth?

I prefer the inside. But I’m almost always put on the outside so I can feed my babies, or assist them in feeding themselves. Because Jacob evidently can’t.

Do you own a nightgown?

I do not.

Have you ever made a house out of a giant cardboard box?

Kind of, yes.

Have you ever made a tent out of sheets in your bedroom?

Ohh yes. Many times.

Do your grandparents know how to operate a cell phone?

My grandpa on my dad’s side does not. My grandma on my dad’s side can barely. It’s interesting to see her comments on Facebook. My grandpa on my mom’s side can’t really. My biologically grandma on my mom’s side passed away, but she could handle a basic phone well. I’m sure she’d love the phones now. My grandpa’s girlfriend, who’s like a grandma, does really well with her phone.

Have you ever had sex or something like it?

I have two kids. What do you think?

Have you ever read a George Orwell book?

I don’t think so.

Have you ever worn fishnets?

Yeah. For Halloween.

How many piercings and tattoos do you have?

I don’t know what piercings are still open. I have 3 tattoos. I want more tattoos.

Is someone in your family affected by Asperger’s?

One of Jacob’s cousins.

In a hotel do you always nose through all the drawers and cupboards?

Not anymore.

Would you rather go out to eat or be eaten out?

Go out to eat. I’ve missed going out to eat, and I’m too tired to deal with having sex.

Do you always wear your seat belt?

Probably about 98% of the time.

Have you ever liked someone much older than you?

Celebrities.

Have you ever been in a play?

I was in a musical in middle school.

Do you have any secrets that nobody knows about?

Probably.

Is there ice cream in your freezer?

There is, actually.

Have you ever started to laugh but played it off as a cough successfully?

I’m sure I have.

Have you ever liked the lyrics of a band but hated the music?

Yup.

Does your bathroom have a window?

Unfortunately. I hate it.

Do you go somewhere to get your eyebrows done?

I do not.

When you were younger did you read the A Series Of Unfortunate Events books?

Some of them. I never finished the series though.

Who was the last band you saw live?

Does Ed Sheeran count?

Do you believe prayer really works?

I do not. 

Are you a fan of the band Gym Class Heroes?

I liked a couple songs.

Frosted flakes or frosted mini wheats?

Lately, Frosted Flakes. 

Have you been on a date in the park?

I guess so, sure.

Ever dated someone you were best friends with first?

Not best friends. But we were friends.

Are there any diseases/health problems that run in your family?

Yup.

Do you have asthma?

I do.

Are tongue piercings slutty?

Of course not. 

Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40?

Jensen Ackles. Misha Collins.

Last person to take off your pants, besides you?

Probably Jacob.

Do you remember those cool highlighters that smelled like popcorn?

I do not.

Might you enjoy hanging out in the woods for day or two?

Eh. Maybe if we’re camping.

Have you ever written something on a bathroom stall?

I have not.

Least favorite alcoholic drink?

Jager.

Have you ever kissed someone named Paul or Luke?

I have not.

How did you meet the last male you texted?

Middle school. He used to sit on my lap and eat my lunches.

Have you ever had an embarrassing email address?

I guess so.

Do you put shampoo in your left or right hand?

Left.

Do you have a bull ring through your nose?

I do not.

Do you and your dad get along?

We do. Might not be as close as I am to my mom, but we get along well. I’m a lot like him in a lot of ways.

Can you see your purse right now?

I don’t carry a purse. 

Are you wearing any perfume? What kind?

I am not.

Are there products in your hair?

Nope. Unless you count the remnants of the Splat hair dye.

When you get colds, do you use nasal spray to help get your nose unstuffy?

Not usually.

Do you actually like sneezing?

I hate it.

Have you taken a shower yet today?

No. I did Sunday. And I will probably take another in the morning before work.

Do you have one best friend who is always there for you?

I guess.

Do you wear skirts a lot?

I do not.

Do you wear sweatpants a lot?

Not really. I wear leggings pretty often.

How many pairs of jeans do you think you have?

Maybe four.

Do you like hoodies?

Looove them.

Big ones or the form fitting kind?

Big ones. The bigger and comfier, the better.

Do you wear polo shirts a lot?

I do not. Ever.

Did you ever actually have a rubber duck?

I think so.

Are you one of those people who claim to live with no regrets?

No. I definitely have regrets.

Do you love your computer?

I like it. It works for my purposes.

Do you drink coffee?

Every now and then.

Do you basically like all of your clothes?

I mean. For the most part, sure.

Do you shop mostly with your parents, your friends, or by yourself?

By myself or with my mom.

[thesaltyoceanwaves]

Bewitched Part 2

Ao3

@lenoreofraven

Today’s musical numbers: “Reason to Become a Witch” and “Congratulations” (cut from Hamilton)

“You trampled on my love and laughed. You clung on to a foolish love. The reason I became a witch, the reason why I’m cursing you… Hurry and run away, I’m a girl with a gun” - Reason to Become a Witch, NS Yoon-G

-~-~-~

There’s something exciting about sitting on top of the academy rooftop, despite Bewitched being used to running and swinging over the city all the time. Right now, she bides her time and can appreciate just how small and ant-like everyone looks from this perspective. It reminds her that the problems of her past life will be just as petty and meaningless after her plans come to fruition.

The students flood the schoolyard, none of them the wiser about what’s to come. She waits until all three of her potential targets enter the area - Adrien rushing in last and going over to Alya - and while doing so, charges up a red energy into her left hand. In the meantime, she overhears a glimpse of the conversation that they have, including a few moments where Nino actually called Adrien out for his behavior.

Hm. Perhaps I’ll spare him a cruel fate.

Once ready, she points her fingers like a gun in Lila’s general direction and fires.

All of the girls surrounding the liar - Rose, Juleka, Mylene and two girls from another class - shriek at the sight of Lila getting blasted. Sure enough, all of the attention now comes to Bewitched.

“I hope you all had a good morning, because it’ll be the last time any of you know good fortune.”

She allows for a few moments of collective gasps and hurried studying of her new form. No one, it seemed, could believe that it was actually her standing there above them. Even Lila, still frozen from her blast, has her thoughts immediately betrayed by her facial expressions.

But from high above, all of their judgments and stares mean nothing. It’s only fair considering she apparently meant nothing to them when she was a good and fair princess. The only expressions she finds intriguing, are the ones realizing just how much they messed up this time.

“M-Marinette?”

She practically rolls her eyes at the sound of this name. Damn, did he always sound this annoying? She glowers at the pathetic, wannabe knight, and dictates, “I am not Marinette. I am Bewitched. And to those who cursed me,” she pauses to cast venomous glances at both Lila and Adrien, giving her a glorious moment of seeing the two squirm, “Well, allow me to return the favor.”

The burst of red energy cackles around Lila, and the liar is forced to turn her entire body toward Bewitched. Her mouth and hands tremble, and she looks like she’s on the verge of tears.

“P-Please, Marinette,” she begs, “I-It doesn’t have to be like this!”

“Oh, it’s too late for that,” Bewitched cooes, “You can’t simply return to this school, lie to everyone, and then threaten me in the bathroom for not following your lead. And painting me to look like the envious one?” she clucks her tongue, “That’s just tasteless, Lie-la.”

Yet another collective gasp erupts across the schoolyard. All of the girls that just moments ago, were fawning over the Italian, are now studying her with raised eyebrows. Bewitched isn’t so pompous as to believe that the girls realize the lies all on their own. No, she predicts Lila’s next actions quite easily.

“That’s not true! I never lied!”

Bewitched can only laugh as she says her line, word for word. What a predictable turn of events.

By this time, Alya already has her phone out and is recording the entire interaction. Excellent.

“I’m not sure I really believe you. So, allow for me to fix that.” The red energy around Lila flares brighter than before, blinding anyone who stands too close to her. The girl group has all evacuated at least twenty feet away from the Italian. “Lila Rossi, you are now cursed to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth. Anytime you try and speak a lie, you will choke on your own words until the truth comes out.”

The red flash dissipates, leaving Lila only with a red symbol on her forehead - the Chinese symbol for “cursed”. When she realizes this, her hands race up to cover it.

“W-What did you do to me?”

“Excuse you, I’ll be asking the questions around here,” she scoffs. God, how did none of these people get sick of Lila’s whiny, cowering attitude all the time? She proclaims to be related to top martial artists and bodyguards, not to mention a superhero whose position she inherited, have secret training, but oh no, someone come save her, please! People actually eating this up though and not getting tired of all the bragging is the most tragic part. But after today, that will change. Smirking, she crosses her arms over her chest, hiding her hands so as to gather more energy. “Tell me, Lila. Have you really met Ladybug?”

She lets out a breath. “Oh, of course I have. We’re best frie-” The gagging is immediate and her hands drop from forehead to around her throat. Some of the girls that ran away earlier, are now back surrounding Lila, trying to help her stand up.

“Marinette!” Rose squeaks, “Make it stop! You’re hurting her!”

“She’s only hurting herself,” Bewitched shrugs, “If she’d only tell the truth about her relationship with Ladybug, then it’ll stop. So Lila, tell us the truth. When did you really meet Ladybug for the first time?”

The panting slows down a bit, but tears still form in the corner of the girl’s eyes. Honestly, is her pride and reputation so important that she would refuse to tell the truth? How pathetic. Hawkmoth honestly chose to akumatize this girl twice?

“A-At the park…” she gasps, “It was m-my first day… here… I was with… A-Adrien. S-She got mad at me… for lying about her on Alya’s blog.”

The liar collapses to the ground, clearly trying to keep herself from retching. Satisfied with her response, she turns her attention to Alya and Nino. She almost frowns when she realizes that Adrien is long gone, and doing a quick scan of the courtyard, Chloe, Kagami and Felix are also gone.We’ll just have to fix that, won’t we? she notes, feeling the warmth of her energy charged finger guns.

“Well, did you get that, Ladyblogger? It turns out the whole time you were reporting about Lila and Ladybug’s legendary friendship, you were getting played for a fool the entire time. Someone who refuses to fact check and blindly believes that they’re right and yet gets fame and attention for it is just asking to be cursed.”

Before anyone can object, she fires the red beam at Alya. For good measure, she also fires a pink beam from her right hand at Nino. The couple exchange a horrified glance, trying to move toward one another, but Bewitched will not allow it.

“Alya Cesaire. You are now cursed to be wrong about everything. Every decision you make, every word you utter, whether you mean it to or not, will be incorrect. No one will ever be able to take you seriously again.”

Again, the light disappears, and the symbol appears on her forehead. Satisfied, she then turns to Nino.

“As for you, Nino Lahiffe, I’ve decided to spare you. You could have done better at defending my honor, but you at least tried, unlike a supposed best friend of mine. I’m willing to give you a second chance as one of my familiars.”

The pink light overtakes him and transforms him. His outfit converts from his usual street wear, to all black attire. Jeans, shirt, jacket… his glasses are now sunglasses, and his cap is on backwards, with cat ears present. A bit cartoony for her tastes, but it works with her general aesthetic. The chain belt tail is a nice touch though.

“Marinette, stop this!” Alya shouts, trying to run toward her. She only trips over her feet. Sitting herself back up, she clears her throat. “I know that this is just a ploy to get everyone to turn against Lila! There’s no way she’s lying!”

If she hadn’t already been akumatized, Bewitched would have predicted a butterfly being sent her way by now. Thankfully, the students in the courtyard below all see reason and merely shake their heads at Alya’s words. It feels so nice to finally be believed for once.

That doesn’t mean she’ll spare them all.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have a few more familiars at her side.

Some of the students start running away, so she needs to be quick in her decision making. Marc Anciel starts running toward Nathaniel. He is one of the few people to not buy into Lila’s pack of lies, and actually seems grateful for her help. He's lacking in the self-confidence department, but that’s easily adjusted. When the pink beam hits him, his outfit becomes not too dissimilar to that of Nino’s, though his cat ears are sewn onto his hoodie.

Aurore Boureal stands in front of a classroom door, ushering other students inside. How noble and brave. The two of them hadn’t interacted much, but Bewitched always sort of liked Aurore, and could relate to her. She knew what it was like to have to juggle so many activities and responsibilities, and how draining it could for no one to appreciate her best efforts. What a fitting candidate for her familiar.

Aurore’s outfit maintains the shape of her dress, but also gives her a pair of shorts and plain stockings. She owns some fishnet gloves, cutting off at the knuckles and a cat ear headband. The parasol she so iconically carries is black with white cat heads, and she uses it to close the classroom door, before pointing it at students that dare try to approach.

Most of the students are gone by this point, even Alya and Lila who are now free to move about. Still, she doesn’t want to settle for just any old people to serve as her trustworthy familiars - they have to be worthy, unlike that troubling Chat Noir. Her eyes fall on Juleka, and sure enough, the goth girl is now a part of her pack. Perhaps she believed Lila’s lies as well, but she was also Luka’s younger sister - she could afford to show a little mercy in her case. Not to mention that her outfit is already perfect for a familiar, so she just gains some cat-themed accessories.

The effects of Alya’s curse are to her benefit, though, Already, Bewitched sees her ushering everyone into the classroom. Honestly, did she think that would be an ideal location? From the look on her face, that doesn’t seem to be the case, but Bewitched isn’t complaining.

She commands her familiars to go forward.

--

An essential lesson in any form of martial art is self-control. Competitive matches could get heated, but a practitioner always held back a certain degree of power and force in their attacks. It was the difference between fierce competition and bloodsport.

Even as Riposte, Kagami has never wanted to throttle Adrien as violently as she does now, ignoring all of the rules of competition. The only thing holding her back at this point is Felix’s pointed glare at the clueless Agreste. And even that is only helping a little.

The three of them are panting furiously, trying not to gag at the odors radiating in the sewers. Her only wish at this point is for Luka to meet up with them, and for them to find all sort of shelter to come up with a plan to properly save Marinette.

But for now…

“Congratulations, Adrien Agreste,” Kagami scowls, “You’ve managed to make one of the kindest, most hard working girls in our entire school into the most vengeful akuma Hawkmoth has ever created. I thought Chloe Bourgeois was reckless with her bullying, but at least she attempted to change her ways. You on the other hand…”

“You’re on a whole new level of stupid,” Felix adds on, “Did you honestly think that Marinette was going to want your pushy, obsessive behavior in a relationship? You know better than anyone that she hates bullies.”

“I’m not a bully!” he objects.

“Oh? Then what would you call yourself then? A hero? No, I don’t think you’re worthy of that title anymore,” Kagami barks, “You know if it were my decision to make, you wouldn’t even have that ring anymore.”

His eyes widened. Even Felix couldn’t contain his surprise at the statement, his hands shaking.

“You mean to say… that this obsessive, entitled doormat of a human being… is Chat Noir?”

“Y-You’re not supposed to know that!” Adrien exclaims, “H-How did you-”

“I had my suspicions, but your reaction confirmed it. Not to mention, when Ladybug decided to take a break, her reasons and story was awfully familiar to Marinette’s,” she sighs, “That means you went to that journalist girl and made her write stories and articles trying to get you two to date…”

Oh god. Images of Marinette scrambling across the school yard, plastering fake smiles, attempting to keep her voice even and level, anxiously reading from her phone only to hide it from the three of them… screw keeping her composure, Kagami wants nothing less to vomit then and there. Just what the hell snapped in this kid’s mind to make him act out the way he did?

For a moment, she weighs the idea that maybe she might be at fault. Had she tried veering Adrien away from Marinette on the ice skating date, might this all have been averted?

No, she reminds herself. It doesn’t matter the reason for his obsessive behavior. It’s still wrong. She glances over at Felix to remind herself of that. He’d point out just how irrational that all was.

Neither her nor Marinette were responsible for this temper tantrum .

She’s not sure how he managed to do it, but Luka has somehow managed to find them in the sewers, and leaps over to them. He’s completely winded, and Kagami can’t help but wonder just how far he had to run to get here. The fact that he made it here so quickly too doesn’t do much to ease her anxieties, either.

“What did I miss?” he asks in between breaths.

“Apparently, Mr. Model Behavior here is actually Chat Noir,” Felix scowls, “And not only has been playing the part of the Nice Guy to Marinette as a civilian, but also as a so-called hero. Hence, our current situation.”

Luka is one of the softest, most gentle souls Kagami has ever known. From time to time, she teases him about this, and her and Felix would refer to Luka and Marinette as cotton candy or marshmallows for their sweet and silly behavior.

But Luka once admitted to having a bit more impulsive, and angry side. This was as a result of him having problems using the right words to speak. He often kept this in check through meditation and his music. When he felt like screaming, he listened to Jagged Stone or heavier music and just let it all out. He worked hard to keep it under control and Kagami never would have suspected his problem unless he told her about it.

The flash of anger that races across his eyes is still a surprise to her.

“What the hell were you thinking, Adrien?”

“Woah, take it easy there-”

Luka slamming his hand across the wall is enough to make them all collectively jump. “Shut the hell up. Don’t tell me what to do. You didn’t take it easy on Marinette when you decided to ruthlessly pursue her into being your girlfriend. You remember that day at the ice rink?” The scowl in the back of his voice starts to dissipate a bit. Kagami can’t help but wonder if Luka is actually on the verge of tears from everything. “I told Marinette to go after you, not because I wanted her to, but because I thought it would make her happy. I cared about her a lot, but I knew for a fact that she wasn’t mine to control. Knowing that you went out of your way to hurt her for your own selfish purposes…” he looks away, his voice faltering, “Damn, you really know how to sicken a guy.”

“You’re just jealous that she confessed to me and not you,” Adrien retorts.

“As I recall,” Felix interrupts, “ You rejected her. It seems you were only interested in her once you found out she was Ladybug.”

Luka lifts his face up and regards Adrien with an even harder glare. “What?”

“Enough,” Kagami scowls, rubbing her temples. After this entire situation was fixed, she was going to get herself a nice pot and a half of tea to alleviate the headache she was going to have. “This isn’t going to get us anywhere. Adrien,” she spits, regarding him with a cold glare, “You and I will go and get Chloe. Luka and Felix, I’m leaving this with you.” From her inside jacket pocket, she pulls out the snake miraculous, “Only use it if you have to. See if you can calm Marinette down from her emotional state.”

“I should be the one to go to Marinette,” Adrien mutters, trying to get away.

“Marinette is looking to give you the worst curse she can muster,” Kagami points out, “Going in without backup is the dumbest idea you have, and you’ve had plenty of those today.” The boy has the nerve to pout, but she fights back the urge to retort any further. “Luka… are you going to be alright?”

His eyes are closed, and he lets out a breath. She knows that later he’ll probably be blasting Jagged over the Seine, but with Felix gently touching his shoulder, Luka sighs and let’s it go. “I’ll be fine. If we can just help Marinette... “

“We’ll manage something,” Felix says assuredly, “Hurry up and get Queen Bee. We’re going to need all of the help we can get.”

Longg and Tikki pop out of her pocket, only giving her a silent nod of agreement. With everyone on the same page, the two groups split up, and Kagami only hoped that Chloe managed to keep herself hidden away from Bewitched.

[gaybitchloki]

in which loki makes mistakes

In retrospect, the fact that American colleges would have American parties at their American fraternities should not be as surprising as it is, and yet Loki’s already-low expectations are somehow only shattered further when he crosses the beer-spattered threshold into the house of ΣΚΥΛΑ or whatever it was called. The theme is something fittingly asinine — Hawaiian safari, or Steve Irwin the Crocodile Hunter, or some other hot-weather excuse for the women to wear literal fishnets as wrap dresses and for the men to wear visors and cut-off shorts — and normally, Loki would rather quite literally die than attend something of this calibre, but reclusive international student beggars cannot be choosers, and a party is a party.

However, while Loki may have lost his dignity the very first time he attended a frat party (barely a week ago, practically his first stop upon deplaning at Logan International), he still maintains his pride, and so he has come in disguise: between the face-swallowing dark sunglasses, the pale green satiny vest, and the ambiguously sporty baseball cap on his head, he is entirely unrecognizable. The sunglasses also afford him the luxury of observing freely, one of the many reasons he frequently chooses to adorn himself with a pair even when indoors, and so his expression behind said sunglasses (which cost approximately as much as a half-semester at this university) is one of unadulterated disdain as he beholds the utter hedonism occurring before him.

No wonder Thor would choose such a place to attend. Just the inadvertent thought of his name makes Loki’s lip curl instinctively, but before he can let that blossom into a full-on sneer, he heads for what appears to be the kitchen so as to procure some alcohol.

Yes, Thor is here somewhere. Not here, literally, not at this party, but somewhere on this campus. Presumably, he has friends, paramours, confidantes, and he’s forgotten entirely about Loki, just as Loki wanted. This place is perfect for him; it is loud, obnoxious, a shameless display of brainlessness and wanton pleasure, and while Loki would never decry wanton pleasure, it is the brainlessness with which he takes issue. In the living room, he can see someone being used as a human target for Nerf gun practice, and on the front lawn, there had been a young man wearing a full-body alligator costume, with cut-outs over his nipples. Truly the peak of intellectualism and community organization, or whatever nonsense fraternities attempt to say in self-defense when criticized.

Loki is faced with several options: Mystery Punch (Pink), bagged wine (red), Mystery Punch 2 (orange), and beer (beige). He decides on Mystery Punch 2, thinking all the while that he should really make some connections with the theater community on-campus. They probably have absinthe at their parties. Which reminds Loki that he needs to add himself to the campus occult society’s listhost, and he pulls out his phone to do just that as he sips his Mystery Punch 2 and begins heading out of the kitchen again to see what else there is to do.

He walks into a wall.

The wall smells appallingly, devastatingly familiar and something near Loki’s anterior cruciate ligament trembles. No. Not here, not now, this can’t be happening. He didn’t even tell Thor where he’d applied, let alone where he’d gotten into or was going; he’d instructed Odin and Frigga to do the same, and they’d never questioned him. His intention had been to avoid Thor for the next four years, as impossible as that now seemed, not to run face-first into him while wearing a seafoam-green vest at a frat party.

Thor’s hands, of course they’re Thor’s hands, come up to grip Loki by the shoulders and steady him. Loki can barely even see — he’s pressed quite snugly against Thor’s chest — but he knows it’s him. Only Thor would wear khaki hot pants and a tits-out tank top and make it look haute couture instead of trashy. It’s appalling. Loki, breath stuck in his throat and half his drink spilled down Thor’s front, instinctively pushes Thor’s hands off of him and stumbles backwards. He hasn’t seen him in— fuck, it’s been more than a year at this point, but Thor looks nothing like how he did the last time Loki saw him face-to-face. That tragic, sad-eyed smile and “If that’s what you really want, brother” expression is entirely gone, replaced with drunken good-natured mirth, and Loki feels sick.

“Easy there,” Thor booms, reaching out to touch Loki again. He doesn’t recognize him. Either he’s really spectacularly drunk or Loki’s disguise is just that good; in all honesty, it’s probably both. Loki is so stunned by this realization that he doesn’t push Thor away this time, which only makes the stupid smile on Thor’s awful face spread. “You alright?”

Loki nods, careful to keep his head tilted down just so, not wanting Thor to look at him too closely. This turns out to be a bad move, since Thor leans in to follow him, ducking down to catch his eye.

“Have I seen you before?” Thor asks, something like wonder in his tone, and Loki shakes his head very minutely.

“Don’t think so,” Loki mumbles, American accent convincing enough, especially since Thor’s drunk. “Sorry.”

“Wish I had,” Thor says, which is the most confusing thing Loki’s ever heard, but then Thor’s making everything worse by leaning in closer, something very strange in his smile. Loki’s seen it before, but not directed at him, only ever from a distance, and— “I’m Thor, what’s your name?”

Loki’s brain goes blank. “…Kevin,” he says.

“Kevin,” Thor repeats as though it’s the best thing he’s ever heard. “What a beautiful name.”

Is it? What it is is a difficult name to pronounce with an American accent when one is Norwegian, but it’s too late to take it back. Loki nods faintly again and lifts his drink to his mouth, hoping Thor will leave him alone so Loki can make his escape. This is another bad move, since it reminds Thor that Loki had spilled his drink all over him, but instead of saying something about how now his shirt was ruined, he takes Loki’s cup from him and pushes his way through the kitchen to get Loki a refill. As he goes, girls practically fall over themselves to smile at him and guys clap him on the shoulder or back and Thor greets each one of them with equal effusiveness and equal warmth, but the one he comes back to is Loki, a full cup in hand. “Here,” he says, returning it to him. Loki hadn’t moved a muscle since Thor had turned away, too stunned to do otherwise. Thor is smiling at him like that again, eyes warm, eyelashes downcast, and Loki takes a small sip of his drink (the fucking dumbass had poured him a top-up of Mystery Punch 1, not 2, and the flavor combination is dreadful) for lack of anything better to do.

“Thanks,” Loki says, and tries to leave.

Thor’s faster than him, though, a hitherto unsuspected ability that emerges only when he’s drunk, and catches Loki around the shoulders, leaning in to try and see him closer. “You look very familiar,” he declares, and Loki shakes his head once again, remembering to slip his phone into his pocket before Thor can notice any identifying features about it (such as the 24k gold inlay around the home button and the engraving of the Laufeysen family crest on the back).

Loki shrugs, figuring Kevin is a mousy type that isn’t used to receiving attention from huge godlike fraternity brothers at parties. “Dunno why.”

“You have a very charming speaking voice,” Thor continues, and Loki bites the inside of his cheek in self-reprimand; evidently, his American accent hasn’t passed muster. “Where are you from? California? Illinois? Mis-si-ssi-ppi?” He over-enunciates each syllable, and Loki knows that all he’s doing is showing off how many states he knows, so he pays it no particular attention.

That being said, Thor is expecting an answer, and Loki panics and says, “Minnesota,” yet another word difficult to pronounce sans accent.

“Minnesota,” Thor repeats thoughtfully. His arm is still around Loki’s shoulders, weighing heavily on Loki’s slender frame. “I am from Norway. Du er veldig søt!”

Loki realizes very abruptly what’s going on and chokes on the sip of Mystery Punch Swirl he’d just taken. While he splutters, Thor coos over him and pats him with an impossibly gentle, impossibly huge hand on the back. Thor is flirting with him, with his own adopted brother, long-lost and prodigal and all kinds of wicked, and were Thor to see Kevin with his sunglasses and hat and vest off he’d likely be so disappointed and ashamed, and yet Loki does not unmask himself, does not reveal that he knows exactly what Thor just said, he just stays where he is. “Um, what?” he says, mouth moving before his brain can catch up. Kevin took French in high school, not anything Scandinavian, so there’s no reason for him to speak Norwegian.

“Ah, nothing,” Thor says, that secretive, warm smile taking over his features again. One of his hands starts coming up and heading for Loki’s sunglasses, and Loki shies away very quickly, making Thor make a mournful, questioning noise. “I wish to see you, Kevin! You really do look very familiar.”

“We haven’t met before,” Loki mumbles, taking a quick sip of punch. “And my eyes are, like, super dilated right now, it’s bright as fuhck in here.”

It works. Thor straightens up once more but makes no move to leave Loki’s side. “What do you study, Kevin?”

Kevin is a maths major, so Loki says, “Maths,” then remembers that Americans don’t pluralize mathematics and quickly continues, “…’s what I’m studying.”

“Fascinating,” Thor says, seeming genuinely fascinated. “Is this your first time here? Shall I give you a tour?”

“Okay,” Loki says before he can stop himself. Maybe he’ll transfer to Harvard and never have to deal with this again; he’ll begin an application tomorrow morning, first thing. For now, he abandons his drink on a kitchen counter and lets Thor tug him along through the sweaty masses of partygoers.

“Have you ever been to Norway?” Thor is asking as they go, somehow managing to make time to smile at everyone who smiles at him as they pass. Loki keeps his head down, eyes fixed on the swell of Thor’s bicep. “It’s such a beautiful place, you’d really love it. I’m from Oslo— well, near Oslo, but it’s near enough that it may as well be.”

American college has rotted Thor’s brain. Prior to coming here, he’d have never associated Bærum with Oslo, and Loki huffs quietly to himself under his breath as he follows after him. “No,” he says, since Thor had asked a question. Kevin isn’t very well-travelled, after all.

“Oh, you simply must go, you’ll love it,” Thor says, drunk enough to repeat himself and flirt with his brother. “This is the living room!”

Loki could see that for himself perfectly well without Thor’s narration. “Oh,” he says.

“Kevin,” Thor says, suddenly altogether too close, his voice dropping lower in both pitch and volume. “Is it so loud in here. Can we go somewhere quieter to talk? You seem to have so many interesting things to say.”

That catches Loki and Kevin both off-guard. He’s seen Thor flirtatious, of course, he’s thought of practically nothing else for the past five or six or ten years, but he’d somehow expected more of him, not the standard douchebag lines. How disappointing. How bland. Thor should be embarrassed, honestly, that his flirting is so weak, so easy to see through, and— “Okay,” Loki’s mouth says before Loki’s brain can run away with this any further, and Thor’s smile lights up his whole body with its force and brilliance as he tugs Loki down the hall to ‘somewhere quieter.’

“This is the media room,” Thor introduces, sounding absurdly proud of a space with whose creation he presumably had nothing to do.

Loki looks around. It’s a decently-sized space with two decently-sized televisions currently being used for a racing game, but Thor isn’t leading him over to play, he’s walking them both to a couch of dubious character and sitting down, sprawling out, thighs spread and leaving Loki barely any room to sit next to him. Loki’s narrow, though, so he makes it work, sliding in by his side and trying to get comfortable. He hasn’t sat this close to Thor in years, if ever, and certainly not ever in this context, Thor so warm and affectionate and undeniably romantically interested.

“What do you think?” Thor asks. Loki’s visceral reaction to the sincerity in his voice isn’t one he can help, but he can disguise it, turning his face away to conceal the way his mouth twists bitterly as if he’s looking around to better see the space.

“It’s cool,” Loki says. His voice sounds less Kevin-esque in the quieter room, so he’ll have to keep talking to a minimum. Somehow, though, he’s starting to get the sense that Thor isn’t all that interested in talking, since Thor is moving closer already, and Loki can feel his eyes on him like a prickle on the back of his neck.

“Kevin,” Thor says, softer, lower still, and Loki turns to look at him. Thor lifts a hand as if to take Loki’s hat off, then thinks better of it and settles his hand on the side of Loki’s neck. A shiver runs down Loki’s spine, unbidden, unexpected. He should stop this. He should tell Thor— he should take off his glasses— or he could just leave, that’d be easier, get up from this couch and go straight out the door and not look back— he can’t move, he’s helpless, he’s wanted this too badly and for too long and finally, finally Thor is talking to him and looking at him like Loki’s always wanted for him to and Loki, selfish, cruel Loki, can’t do anything to stop him. “Jeg vil gjerne kysse deg.”

Loki’s stomach flips over and he almost moves forward to close what little distance remains between them, but he hesitates, remembers that Kevin wouldn’t understand. “What?” he breathes, eyes darting down to Thor’s mouth, his mouth which is so soft, which is so kind, which deserves better than this.

“I want to—”

Before Thor can even finish speaking Loki has straddled his lap and claimed him, arms winding around his broad, strong shoulders, his mouth pressing to Thor’s with all the sharpness and cruelty he is best known for. Thor makes a surprised noise and melts, meets him there, his hands taking Loki by the waist. Even though Thor is drunk, he kisses back hard, not letting Loki take any more ground than he already has; it’s a clash of teeth and tongues, hot gasps of air the only thing between them when Loki turns his head the other way and kisses him deeper.

Care goes out the window, and Loki fumbles to take off his sunglasses and baseball hat so there won’t be anything in the way, nothing at all, nothing disrupting his one and only chance to have Thor in his grasp like this. He is kissing Thor wholly, deeply, licking into his mouth and biting on his lip and dragging his fingers through Thor’s hair, kissing him like he’s dying for it, like he’s been starving for it, and he has. Thor will never know the extent to which he has. For some reason, though, Thor is kissing him back the exact same way, his grip tightening on Loki’s waist to drag him closer in his lap and a strong arm finally winding around his back to keep him there.

Loki knows he needs to stop this, needs to stop himself, but he’s incapable. Nothing remains but Thor’s mouth, the hot slip of his tongue, his golden skin under Loki’s palms, pulse beating hard when Loki presses a thumb under his jaw to keep his head tilted up. When Loki bites at him and pulls back, Thor hisses a low breath and pulls Loki in again, going in practically tongue-first for a kiss that leaves Loki shuddering, reduced to a thing that wants Thor, hungry for the weight of Thor’s body against his own. Thor wants him, too, and the certainty of it is blinding, making Loki gasp against Thor’s mouth. Thor echoes him with a low, throaty noise that’s almost animal, and Loki’s dizzy, losing it completely, and if he doesn’t stop now, he never will, and there’ll be no going back after that.

What can it be but a testament to how deeply Loki loves Thor that he stops himself then? The amount of effort it takes is one that Loki hadn’t known himself capable of producing. He wants, he needs, but he knows Thor wouldn’t want this. If he did, he wouldn’t want it like this. Loki loves him more than he is selfish, and he pushes Thor away, gasping, “I have to go, I’m sorry.”

“Wha— Kevin,” Thor says, breathless and dismayed. Loki shakes his head, hair falling over his face, and slips out of his tight grasp and out of his lap. Thor starts to sit up, starts to reach out for him, but his hand freezes in mid-air and in the split second before Loki turns to go, he sees a hint of recognition on Thor’s face in his darkened blue eyes, above his red wet mouth.

Loki flees. Thor doesn’t go after him, and Loki doesn’t look back over his shoulder. On his way out of the room, Loki bumps shoulders with some square-faced dirty blond guy who looks very confused, but Loki doesn’t have time to do damage control on everyone who might have seen his face; he just needs to get out of there.

Compared to the heavy, humid air inside the frat house, the early September chill comes as a much-needed shock to Loki’s system, and he stands on the lawn for a brief moment to inhale deep lungfuls of it before pulling out his phone and heading down the block, waiting to call an UberBlack until he’s a safe distance away from the house and there’ll be no chance of Thor coming after him.

What has he done? How could he do that? And yet he’s still not sure if he regrets it or not, considering it was his only chance and, more likely than not, Thor will never find out. Even if Thor finds out Loki’s here, he still wouldn’t believe Loki would go to a frat party in disguise and make out with him, since the concept of Loki going to a frat party is utterly alien as it is. Loki saw no one he knew, and his face was hidden to Thor for the entirety of the affair save for the last moment, but Thor will likely attribute the brief glimpse of Loki’s face to something like wishful thinking. Loki will burn this vest, and he left the hat and glasses there with Thor. There will be nothing tying him to this event or this night, and Thor will never have to find out.

Loki cries in the Uber back to his dorm. The driver, an immensely wrinkled old man whom the Uber app had described merely as ‘Stan,’ politely says nothing, but when Loki starts stepping out of the car upon arrival, he says, in his wrinkly old voice, “Chin up, kid. It’ll work itself out. These things usually do.”

Loki sniffs, neither grateful nor ungrateful, closes the door behind himself, and goes up to his cold and impersonal dorm room to collapse into fitful, dreamless sleep. He’ll deal with this never, he decides. Thor will never find out, and Loki will never tell him, and they’ll likely never see each other again, and that’ll be that. Either way, it won’t go anywhere. There’s no chance of them looking for apartments together, or kissing passionately on top of a table in a library study room, and certainly not of them taking all of Thor’s dreadful friends to summer with them back home in Norway. No chance of any of that at all. It ends here.

[xtheingenue-blog]

oh, honey

who // rachel berry & jesse st. james what // rachel premiers a new song with a new leading man and the chemistry is too much for them to fight anymore when // wednesday, october 10th  a/n // they bang but i’m too tired to write real porn so its like. soft porn. think harlequin romance, with less use of the words ‘iron hard member’ or something. 

New York had always been home. Even though she’d technically spent more of her life in Los Angeles, the second she stepped foot in the city, it felt familiar. Comfortable. Sugar had even managed to convince Will it was okay for them to spend the time in their apartments - as much as she loved hotels, sleeping in her own bed with her cat again made everything feel just a little bit better.  Of course, now her bedding smelled like Jesse St. James. He had spent most of the previous evening sprawled out on her bed, watching her clear out her closet - she’d allow him glimpses of skin, pink patches appearing as she blushed when his eyeline would focus on her hips, her thighs, her breasts. In the end, they settled on an outfit Rachel had worn one of her first performances - something that made her feel powerful, and with the way his eyes raked over her, sexy. 

They had been practicing the song whenever they had a chance, Rachel tweaking it here and there to make it work more in her favor. The girls loved it - while they had to borrow a pianist to play the keyboard for it, it was sultry, smoky. Hot. And when she sang it with Jesse, Rachel couldn’t help but feel the electricity that ran between them. 

She only hoped they could play it off on stage. 

Rachel had the closing act at the first venue, and Jesse was on third during his own. It was almost like the universe was laughing at them, despite her request to have them on the same stage so he could easily join her - for awhile, she wasn’t sure he’d even be able to make it. Sure, the song she could easily sing as a solo, but it wasn’t as good that way, and she’d rather have scrapped it all together.  She needn’t have worried; he looked a little breathless off stage, grabbing a mic from Sugar to join her in perfect timing. They started sans music, just Rachel’s voice, no introduction before she started singing. 

these little hands are parasites 

The crowd hushed with her voice, trying to figure out if they knew the song or not 

get in there and hang on tight take what they can take and leave you bleeding

She could see Jesse just out of the corner of her eye, waiting just off stage. A surprise, for sure, for the entire audience - but she couldn’t keep the lilt of a smile off her lips as she sang, the hum of excitement buzzing through her already. 

this little mouth’s no good for you these lips will suck you black and blue when it’s done, the teeth and tongue for feeding

Emily and Sidney began to join in with their instruments, a few pick ups she’d managed from the general band members that lurked the tour in case of emergencies helping out, the audience starting to get into the song - but nothing like when Jesse appeared, words first before his body, his voice drawing her to him even before she looked in his direction.  It was like a magnet, the two of them, circling one another as they sang round and round, almost never in unison, like they didn’t want to overpower one another. Equals, really, something Rachel had been yearning for for years now.  It was during the last moments of the song, the two of them merely a foot apart, and if she’d been thinking about it all she should have been surprised by the lack of feedback from their microphones, but all she could think about was how good they sounded, her voice harmonizing with his, the two of them exhilarated in the way only an incredible performance was.  It was the closest thing she’d felt to love in years, and when the song ended, the crowd burst into louder applause than she’d heard at any show previous.  They laughed it off, Rachel squeezing his hand and kissing his cheek before she announced him to the crowd, demanding one more round of applause for him. And just the briefest touch of her lips against his skin was enough to make her vibrate with need, her tongue darting across her lips as she watched him go, remembering only just in time that she had the rest of her set to perform and she couldn’t follow.  As soon as the curtain dropped, however, she sped off, barely putting her guitar in its case before she was texting Jesse. My apartment. Now. She’d only just sent it when a pair of hands reached out for her, eliciting a small screech before lips were against hers, hands on her waist, her hair, tugging on her vest while pushing her further backstage where no one could see them, despite how busy it was.  “Jesse - “  It was so confusing. Because she wanted this, wanting him, but she had Sam, sort of, and Sebastian, in a way, and adding a third guy into the mix seemed like so much but with his mouth trailing along her throat, she couldn’t remember anything except the way his eyes bore into hers on stage, how their voices blended together perfectly, how his energy seemed to combine with hers on stage to create something so incredibly new that she wanted - 

“Not here,” was all she managed to get out, his teeth nipping her ear as he hummed his agreement, though her hands were just as unable to sit still as his, tugging on his shirt, his hair, his hips. “My apartment, come,” she demanded, pushing him away until she could breathe on her own again.  They didn’t speak as they found a cab outside, and while she tried to remember herself, it was a long drive from the island back to Brooklyn. 

It was her who initiated it, then; “Kiss me,” she whispered, and he did as she asked, pulling her close. Open mouths, teeth biting, she felt her insides stirring with a longing she hadn’t felt in so long - to be known, to be wanted in a way unique to anything else she had in her life. 

And Jesse fit so perfectly into what she thought she needed in a partner. Someone who could understand that she scoffed at the idea of monogamy, someone who understood that the spotlight was her one true love above all, someone who could bring fire to her music and energy to her soul. While they were on tour, they couldn’t do much more than they were musically, but instead of fighting him off, well, she was officially inviting him in, physically. 

Her clothing barely stayed on in the cab, and while it wouldn’t be her first time, she didn’t think either of them needed to deal with a sex tape scandal, all things considered. (The fact that Santana still held one of her was enough to make her wary of creating a second so soon.) But she barely let him get further than her front door before she yanked his jacket off, throwing it towards her sofa where it landed on Roxie, the kitten screaming and hiding in objection. 

Rachel paid her no mind, instead focusing on the buckle of Jesse’s jeans, his own hands pulling her shirt up and over her head, hands and mouths seeking every inch of skin possible. He’d only been in her apartment once, but he somehow managed to navigate them to her bed, pushing her down and crawling on top of her, whispering soft words of “beautiful” and “gorgeous” in his low accent that made her skin crawl with desire as he kissed her. 

“I need you,” she begged, her own voice breathier than normal, and he chuckled, catching her lips in another kiss that made her knees weak and her legs part as he settled between them. His fingers found the crutch of her, sinking inside and making her moan into his kiss, her back arching slightly to crawl closer to him. 

“I can tell, princess,” his words made her moan louder, which only seemed to push him harder, Rachel squirming if only to get her skirt further down her hips, to allow him more access. She wanted to feel him, all of him, and while his fingers hooking inside of her felt delicious, she needed more. 

“Then stop teasing,” she snapped, pushing him away if only to hook her own thumbs in the waist of her fishnets, tugging all her clothing off in one fell swoop. Jesse followed suit, giving Rachel just enough time to reach for her secret box in her bedside - thank god she always kept herself stocked, just in case, grabbing a condom and tearing open the packet before he could protest. 

(Not that she imagined he would - he, after all, would be an advocate for birth control for the same reasons she was, and if he had a problem about the potential passing of STI’s, well, she’d just demand he get tested before they went without.) 

She pushed him onto his back, giggling as she did, Jesse hoisting her hips until they were straddling his own. Rachel’s teeth worked her bottom lip, lining the two of them up and letting herself sink down around him slowly. 

The groan that slipped between his lips was enough to make her skin flush a deep red, her breath stuttering for a moment while she rested her hands against his chest. “C’mon, baby girl,” he teased, and she dug her nails into his skin, eliciting a low hiss before she started moving; it was just like being on stage with him, the two finding that perfect rhythm almost immediately, his hands digging into her hips while she rode him. Her head lolled back, her knees digging into her mattress to support herself, and all she could focus on was how good it felt - how good he felt, a thumb circling her clit, two fingers twisting a nipple, his body moving faster than hers when he wanted to flip her over so she couldn’t protest. 

By the time she came, the two of them were soaked in sweat, her teeth biting into his shoulder to mark him as hers, if only momentarily, her body rolling against his as she kept herself wrapped tightly around him. She didn’t want there to be a distance, didn’t want any space, and he seemed to agree with the sentiment. 

What they had together, she knew, even as they collapsed next to one another what felt like hours later, was more than just chemistry. It was more than just sexual, more than just emotional. It was musical, a soulmate in a way she’d never found with anyone else. And Rachel had no intentions of giving that up - not if she could do a damn thing to stop it. 

[allodoxaphobiawritesshit]

Tiffany Blews

Tiffany Blews I'm not a cry baby I'm the cry baby A caterpillar that got stuck Mr. Moth come quick with any luck … Not the boy I was The boy I am is just venting, venting Dear gravity, you held me down in this starless city

Shikamaru was a genius.

He wasn't patting himself on the back, he was just stating facts. Had he been given the choice, he would have been born with average smarts. It was a lot harder to get through life doing the bare minimum when people knew you had an IQ over two hundred. They expected you to do more and use your "vast knowledge" for good. After he had been promoted to chuunin he had realized that people felt what he lacked in experience he could make up for with his intelligence. This resulted in him leading far more missions than he wanted. He also found himself being somewhat of an unofficial advisor/errand runner of the Hokage. He didn't understand it but he just chalked it up to another one of the cons of being labeled as "gifted". For all his genius, however, he couldn't comprehend his current situation. He was sitting up in his bed, messy hair out, in nothing but his sleeping shorts. In front of him sat his blonde team mate, Ino, her cheeks slightly red and her eyes averted.

"Could you..." Shikamaru started before clearing his throat slightly. "Could you repeat that?" The blonde huffed and rolled her eyes but repeated, though not much louder, her previous statement.

"I said: Shikamaru, I need you to have sex with me," Her eyes remained averted as she said this.

There was a pause in which Shikamaru politely gave his teammate time to correct or amend her statement.

She did not.

"Is this some kind of prank? Because you honestly could've waited until later in the day. How did you even get in here?" He asked and plopped back down in his bed, muttering something about troublesome women. This was way too early to be dealing with Ino's shenanigans. She had come in his room and woken him up at nine-thirty in the morning. Sure, he'd reluctantly woken up much earlier on many occasions but it was his day off. It was rare that he woke up before ten on his off days.

"No, this isn't a joke! This is serious! And your mom let me in. She was on her way out and I told her we were supposed to train today. She said to wake you up and give you a good ass kicking if you gave me any trouble. Which, honestly, you're not being very agreeable right now," Ino said and finally looked at him.

"Yeah, I bet if she knew what kind of ‘training’ you had in mind she'd kill both of us," Shikamaru muttered.

"Why aren't you taking me seriously?" The blonde demanded.

"Because there's no way you could be serious! What, you just woke up today and decided you were going to ask me to have sex with you? Who in their right mind would go along with that?" The shadow user retorted.

"Probably a lot of people, actually."

"...Alright, fair point. Most of those people didn't grow up together with you practically like siblings though," Shikamaru shot back.

"Gross. We're not related. You just made this a lot grosser. I hope you're proud of yourself. And this isn't out of the blue! There's a reason I'm asking you," Ino defended. Shikamaru sat back up and gave her an expectant look. "What? Oh. You want me to explain. Right.

Alright, listen, as you know the Shitenshin no Jutsu is very useful for information gathering so recently I've started taking on more and more surveillance missions. They want me to start moving up and one of the missions types you can be given is a 'seduction mission'," She actually used air quotes at this. "And, well, before I do that I need to, uh... not be a virgin anymore. I mean, the point of the mission usually isn't to have sex with anyone but, you know, anything could happen or go wrong. And that would be a very traumatizing way to lose my virginity.

So, I have to amend that whole 'being a virgin' thing before I can start taking on these missions. And even though I've dated around, I'm not actually seeing anybody and I really can't think of anyone else I trust enough to help me out like this." Ino stopped and took a breath. She was speaking so fast her air intake couldn't keep up. "I mean, you're my team mate and I've known you pretty much since we were babies. We were born only a day apart for goodness sake."

Shikamaru stared at her as his mind processed what she had told him. Finally he replied, "Well, Chouji's also your team mate..."

Ino simply stared blankly at him for a few moments. "Listen... I love Chouji. He's also my team mate, but you know as well as I do why I didn't ask Chouji."

Shikamaru felt he should be offended for his best friend, but he knew that the large boy probably wouldn't care. Chouji didn't really seem that interested in dating girls anyways. Not that the shadow user was any different. He almost wished he belonged to a clan that still practiced arranged marriages. That way he would be guaranteed to carry out his duty of continuing the Nara clan without all the effort of dating. Then again, that would also up the chances of him ending up with a really troublesome woman. Much like the woman before him.

"Alright Ino, don't take this the wrong way, but this is probably the worst idea you've ever had. I say this knowing that you have had quite a few bad ideas, but I mean it. Really." He laid back down and spared a glance in her direction.

"I'm not really seeing a positive way to take that. It almost would've been less offensive if you had said 'Hey, don't take this the wrong way, but you're a complete idiot'."

"Well-"

"I said 'almost'!" Ino cut the Nara boy off before he could amend his previous statement. “Look, I know this is sudden and you probably think I'm crazy but I didn't actually think you would agree right on the spot. Just think it over okay?” No response. “Shikamaru!”

“Alright, alright!” He called and covered his face with a pillow. He stayed this way until he finally heard the blonde get up and leave. He didn't fully relax until he heard the sound of his front door closing.

As if there was even anything to think about. It may be great to hear about Ino advancing as a ninja and of course he would help his team mates out any way he could. This was just unreasonable though. Shikamaru still wasn't even entirely convinced that this wasn't a prank. It sounded like something Naruto would come up with, but the shadow user dismissed that almost immediately. As close as they all were, Ino still thought Naruto was a pretty ridiculous person.

Shikamaru groaned and rolled out of bed to head to the bathroom. No use trying to sleep any longer. He really couldn't understand his blonde team mate. He knew she had dated plenty of guys even if none of them really lasted that long. She was obviously beautiful and if Shikamaru had any kind of interest in women he probably would've had a crush on her at some point. Probably very early on, before he realized how bossy and needy she was. Regardless, it wouldn't be difficult for her to find someone else to help her with her predicament. At the very least she could find someone she was attracted too. The shadow user was no fool, he knew that Ino's taste ran somewhere far away from him.

Shikamaru paused in his teeth brushing to spare a glance at the full length mirror in his bathroom. He was decently muscled despite his laziness. Being a ninja naturally kept one in shape, barring the Akimichi Clan. If he hadn't decided to follow in his father's footsteps he probably would've been pretty damn scrawny. He looked his reflection in the eyes and confirmed his thoughts. Despite not having a bad body, Shikamaru didn't have the face the girls fell for. Sharp eyes with a near constant look on his face that said “Don’t”. Even his hair spiked out in all directions when it wasn't tied back. Even then it just spiked upwards.

He turned back to the small mirror in front of the sink and resumed brushing his teeth. If he was the type that cared about attracting girls he could probably change the less desirable parts about him.

Fortunately he wasn't.

There was a brief period that everyone thought that he and Temari of the Sand had something going on, but they couldn't be more wrong. The last thing Shikamaru needed was a bossy woman that could also kick his ass. Not only that, she was the sister of the Kazekage. That was all more trouble than he needed in a lifetime. There would be times when she flirted with him, but it was clear that it wasn't because she was actually interested in him. It was more of a cure to her boredom while preparing for the Chuunin exams and he suspected she also liked trying to get a rise out of him.

Shikamaru finished brushing his teeth and, after a quick rinse of his face, walked back to his room. His mother probably didn’t leave any breakfast for him, having become used to him either not being there in the morning or waking up too late to eat it while it was hot. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t feel like making any himself.

Well, there were probably a few places open by now where he could get something to eat.

Changing into a T-shirt and pair of shorts, the shadow user pondered being able to wear civilian clothes out on the field. A nice cotton shirt was way more comfortable than the fishnet he normally wore. Then again, he supposed that was his own choice. It was too late to have wardrobe change now though, his closet was already committed.

“Come on, I just took that mission off your hands that you were too lazy to do!” Naruto whined across from Shikamaru.

“I wasn’t too lazy to do it, it overlapped with the other mission I had already been assigned. The Hokage was the one who made you take it,” Shikamaru retorted. Naruto didn’t seem to hear this and just continued on.

“I had to use all the money from my last mission on a deposit for a new apartment since my old building is about to get torn down!” The blond continued to look on with desperate eyes.

Shikamaru knew better than to go to Ramen Ichiraku when he wanted a quiet moment to himself. Naruto was there almost every day and he was anything but quiet. He did, however, make the mistake of being in the vicinity of the place. Now he had Naruto begging to buy him a meal… which was actually unusual now that he thought about it. Even with getting a new apartment, the blond had a pretty decent savings from what Shikamaru knew.

“What the hell happened to the rest of your money?” The brunette asked as he took another bite of his salmon.

“I was showing Sakura-chan a new jutsu when I was over her place the other day and it kind of got out of control and broke down one of her walls,” Naruto had the decency to look sheepish as he explained. He quickly added: “She broke down the other wall when she punched me though!”

Shikamaru winced, thinking of the monster strength the kunoichi possessed. He sighed, it’s not like he was tight on money anyway.

“Alright, but don’t get carried away,” The Nara boy muttered. Naruto let out a victory cheer and motioned the waitress over to put his order in. After he finished he turned back to his friend.

“What are you doing out this early on your day off anyway?” The blond asked as he reached over to grab Shikamaru’s water and take a gulp. Shikamaru made a face at him.

“I was woken up by Ino,” He replied.

“What’d she want?”

Shikamaru grimaced as he recalled his early morning conversation with his teammate.

“Nothing important. Just Ino being Ino.” In the sense of making unreasonable demands of people. She normally didn’t go around asking people to have sex with her. To his knowledge anyway. He kept this all to himself knowing that if the blond found out, all of Konoha would find out.

“Oh.” Naruto seemed to lose interest as soon as the waitress returned with his order. Shikamaru reached across the table to grab the cup of water she set down for the blond. Knowing the other boy’s lack of hygiene, Shikamaru wasn’t too fond of drinking after him.

The Nara boy leaned back on his side of the booth, having already finished his food. Naruto didn’t seem to be too far from finishing himself, despite having just gotten his.

“Oh yeah, you just reminded me,” The blond spoke around his mouth full of food. Shikamaru made a face. Whoever thought that the Akimichi clan were messy eaters had never witnessed Naruto. “I’m supposed to be going on a mission with Ino in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s unusual. You guys have only ever been on a mission together while Chouji and I are there.”

“Yeah it’s a mission requiring a lot of stealth they said and she’s one of the best when it comes to that. I heard she’s really good on missions even without you and Chouji!” A grain or two of rice flew out of his mouth with that last statement.

Shikamaru was sure he was supposed to be offended for the Ino-Shika-Cho Trio. Of course they could perform well on their own; they would be pretty useless otherwise. They just worked exceptionally well together because of their family ties.

“Idiot. Why wouldn’t she be? She graduated among the top of our class.”

“Yeah, but she was always boy crazy! Every time I hang out with her and Sakura she talks more about boys than being a ninja,” Naruto defended. Shikamaru didn’t doubt that. While Ino was no doubt a great kunoichi, she didn’t seem to have a problem balancing her duties with her boyfriends. He wasn’t here to defend her skills to Naruto though.

“Well, you’ll see for yourself when you’re on your mission together.” Shikamaru left it at that. He really didn’t want to talk about his blond team mate. The more he talked about her, the more he thought of their morning conversation. He was hoping that she would forget the whole thing while she was away with Naruto on this mission.

Naruto just nodded in agreement.

“She seemed pretty calm when we were getting briefed. The guy she’s getting information from sounds really sleazy though. Hopefully she doesn’t have to do too much with him,” Naruto blanched as Shikamaru choked on the water he was drinking. The blond looked at the shadow user in confusion.

“Wait, what type of mission is this?” Shikamaru asked after a few coughs.

“I told you we’re gathering information…”

“Dumbass, I know that. What did they call this type of mission?”

“Oh… uhhh… a ‘seduction mission’?” Naruto seemed a little weirded out by the term. “Why?” Shikamaru just sighed and rubbed his face. Of course she wasn’t going to forget about it. She wanted this deed done before her mission with Naruto. His team mate could have mentioned that she had already taken on the type of mission she was trying to prepare herself for. Shikamaru was starting to feel a serious dread come over him.

“Anyways! Thanks for the meal! I gotta meet Kakashi-Sensei for training!” And without any care for the inner turmoil [read: mild discomfort] he had just caused his friend, the Nine-Tails host was gone. Shikamaru grabbed his check with even less enthusiasm than he normally had and went to the front of the restaurant to pay for the meals.

As the shadow user walked out back onto the street he noted that it had gotten somewhat busier in the time he had eaten his breakfast. He looked up, decided it was a good day for cloud watching (as was every other day) and with a sigh turned to head towards his favorite spot.

He had a sinking feeling that this situation with Ino was going to be even more troublesome than he first thought.

To his relief (and somehow concern at the same time), he didn’t see Ino for a couple of days after their conversation. He began to think maybe she had found someone else to dump her problem onto. Really, he’d prefer she ask him to help her cheat on her math homework or maybe help hide a body. Something reasonable.

On the third night he woke to the presence of someone in his room. As he reached for the kunai he kept under his pillow and started stretching out his shadow he heard a huffed whisper:

“Calm down, it’s just me.”

And felt his dread settle right back where it was. His armed plopped back down by his side and he opened his eyes to stare at his ceiling. He let out a sigh and continued to look at the ceiling as though it would offer him some sound advice.

“You know, they say every time you sigh, you lose a bit of happiness,” Ino said as she said down on the floor by his bed.

“You can’t lose something you don’t have,” Shikamaru retorted.

“What’s gotten you all bent out of shape? Because I woke you up? It’s only ten at night, only grannies sleep this early,” She rolled her eyes.

Shikamaru realized in this moment that he team mate was absolutely the type of person to set a bomb off and walk off like nothing happened. She would probably meet Sakura or some guy for lunch right after and then sleep like a baby that night with no care for the chaos she just caused.

He didn’t even want to explain any of that to her.

“Why are you in my room in the middle of the night?” He asked instead.

“It’s hardly the middle of the night,” She scoffed. “And I was heading back from Sakura’s place and decided to stop by your house on my way home and see you.”

“Didn’t you pass by your house on the way here?”

“Whatever. I just wanted to come talk to you to see if you’ve given any more thought to our conversation the other day,” Her voice lost her edge as she said this.

Shikamaru wanted to go back to sleep.

Instead, he rolled onto his side to face her and propped his head up on his hand.

“Why didn’t you say you had already taken on a seduction mission?” The Nara boy asked and noted that his team mate seemed surprised at the question.

“How did you know that? Wait, of course. It was Naruto. Of course it was. He has such a big mouth,” Ino grumbled more to herself.

“I’m sure there’s a couple of people left in Konoha that don’t know about your mission,” Shikamaru assured her.

“Ugh, whatever. Does it matter?”

“Of course it does. I thought that you were still debating on taking on these types of missions. Don’t you think finding out you’ve already been assigned one puts a lot of pressure on me?” Shikamaru asked. Not that he was surprised Ino didn’t think of how he would feel.

“I did think of that!” Ino whipped to face him as she yelled. Then, as if remembering she was in the house Yoshino, shrank down and spared a nervous glance in the direction of her bedroom. She and Shikamaru stared in that direction for a few nervous beats before relaxing slightly.

“I did think of that,” She repeated in a hushed whisper. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. I know you think I’m being selfish like normal,” So she knew she was a selfish person. “But I really didn’t want to guilt you into helping me, even if you are the only person I trust.”

“So what were you going to do if I said no?”

“Go through with the mission, of course.”

“And what if something does happen? What if this guy decides he wants you? You know Naruto wouldn’t stand by and let that happen. I’m amazed he’s even on this type of mission.”

“I know that. He won’t be able to see me. I’m going to be communicating mind to mind.”

“So you would tell them if things went too far?”

She didn’t respond.

“Ino.” Shikamaru sat up on his bed.

“Not if it would cost us the mission,” She looked him in the eye as she answered. He knew that look and he also knew that she absolutely meant what she said. The Nara boy cursed under his breath and stood up. Ino looked up in surprise.

“I’m going to get a drink of water.” He said and walked out of his room. Ino watched him walk out, concern obvious of her face.

She really knew how to lay in on him. He almost preferred her going on about diets and the like than this. Then again he was glad those stopped. The idea of an active ninja going on crash diets was terrible. What did they need to diet for? Their lifestyle kept them in shape enough. If anything they needed to eat way more just to have the energy to keep up.

Shikamaru walked in his kitchen and grabbed a glass by the sink to fill with water. He downed half the glass and went to fill it back up. He didn’t know how to answer his team mate’s request.

But he already knew what he was going to do.

The shadow user was without a doubt lazy. He hated anything troublesome. He certainly hated anything to do with women and relationships. He would also absolutely do anything for his teammates. Even if this was something he never expected to have to do. He could only hope Chouji never came to him with a similar request. With a sigh he headed back to his room.

Only to find the blond dozing off on his bed.

“Don’t you have a home?” He asked her. She blinked awake.

“Ugh, I just haven’t been sleeping well the past few days. Your bed is really comfortable. I guess that’s not really surprising. Maybe I should get a new bed. I’ve had mine since I was ten,” Ino complained. Shikamaru, ignoring her rambling, set his glass down on his nightstand and sat down on his bed next to her.

“Well, if you’re going to sleep, then sleep. I have to be at the Hokage’s office first thing in the morning. Even though she’s probably going to get there an hour after me,” He muttered as he laid down.

“Oh. What really? You don’t mind me sleeping in your bed with you?”

“We’ve slept next to each other countless times on missions. Besides, if we’re supposed to have sex, I think we should be able to handle sleeping next to each other,” He said and rolled to face away from her.

“Oh, I guess you’re right.”

There was a beat.

“Oh! Wait! So you’ll really do it?” She remembered to keep her voice down this time. Shikamaru sighed again. He really was losing all his happiness.

“Come back on Thursday. I have Friday off and my mother is supposed to be out of town visiting her sister,” He said and realized he was basically sealing his fate. He felt Ino’s arm swing around him from behind and he stiffened in surprised.

“Thank you, Shikamaru. I really mean it,” She mumbled into his back. She rolled away and back onto her back. “I was going to go home, but your bed really is comfy. See you in the morning.”

He was pretty sure she fell asleep almost immediately and realized that his team mate was not just selfish, but maybe a bit shameless. To fall asleep in someone else’s bed before them.

Thursday night came too soon. Shikamaru’s mother left early in the day like she planned and wouldn’t be back until Sunday. Shikamaru for his part had spent the day watching clouds before returning home to make himself a dinner that he could barely eat. Afterwards, he took a bath and didn’t bothering dressing in anything other than his black sleeping shorts.

As he sat in bed, leaned back against his head board, he read the same page of a book Kurenai had given him. She told him it had been Asuma’s favorite, and while it was a good read, Shikamaru found he couldn’t concentrate. Still, he continued to stare at it until he felt a familiar presence in his room.

He looked up to see his blond teammate standing next to his bed. She was wearing a pair of blue gym shorts and a black t-shirt. Shikamaru was happy to see that neither of them had dressed up for this occasion.

“I would’ve been here sooner, but my mother cooked a late dinner and wanted to catch up,” Ino said by way of apology. Shikamaru shrugged it off. It’s not like he was eager to do this. When he didn’t make a move to say anything Ino sat in front of him on his bed.

“I guess there’s nothing we can really do to make this less awkward. So let’s just get started,” Despite her words, she didn’t look all that confident as she took off her shirt. She looked briefly at Shikamaru but rather than looking at his face, she stared slightly off to the side. Unexpectedly, the shadow user found it comforting that she was as nervous and uncertain as he was. Somehow it made it easier on him, knowing that they were both awkwardly proceeding with this. Spurred by this thought, he decided to break his silence.

“Well, you mine as well take off your bra too.” Ino looked scandalized at Shikamaru’s statement. The Nara boy just rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I know how to take bras off girls, Ino.”

“Oh… I guess that’s true. It’s not that hard,” She said as she reached behind her to undo her clasps. Shikamaru for his part kept his eyes averted as the blond took her bra off and set it aside. He heard her huff.

“You know it’s not very flattering when someone makes it a point not to look at you. I know I’m not exactly ideal but jeez,” She muttered, face red. Shikamaru looked to her face in surprise, somehow stopping himself from pausing to stare at her breasts. Now her gaze was averted.

“What are you talking about? I think you know that I’m obviously getting the better end of this deal,” Shikamaru said. She looked doubtful but turned to look back at him. The Nara boy still managed to keep his eyes in her face.

“What are you talking about?” She asked in return.

“You know, I wouldn’t take you for having confidence issues.”

“Ugh, only when it comes to you.”

“I know I don’t fawn over you like a lot of guys do, but I was positive you already knew you were beautiful,” Shikamaru said, in what seemed like genuine confusion over her words. Ino’s face had gotten even redder at his words, not even seeming to care anymore of her state of undress. “Besides,” He continued. “Everyone knows a girl usually experiences all the discomfort during her first time. Mine is just nerves at least.”

Ino didn’t seem to know what to say. Shikamaru didn’t have anything else to say himself. He certainly wasn’t trying to sit across from her half naked all night. Not knowing what else to do, he held out his arms to her, still sitting cross legged against his headboard. Ino blinked before she realized what he wanted and crawled over to him and into his arms. Without another word, Shikamaru leaned over to kiss her.

It started out slow, before Ino took initiative and deepened the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her body into his. Shikamaru felt her tongue slide against his lips and he took the hint to part his mouth. They continued slow and relaxed before his mind once again caught up with him. How funny that he was going from never having kissed a girl, to having his first kiss and losing his virginity in the same night.

Then again, it was typical for him. Promoted to Chuunin only to almost immediately lead a recon mission where he almost lost his best friend and one of his comrades. Constantly given more responsibility than he was really ready for, all for being a so called genius. Shikamaru furrowed his eyebrows and pulled away from Ino’s lips to bury his face in her neck.

Ino, surprised at his sudden move, seemed to sense his trouble and simply stayed in his arms.

The Nara boy didn’t know why these thoughts were suddenly coming to him. They certainly were ruining what little mood they had managed to build. This was decidedly a terrible time to let his mind wander. He slowly let out a breath to calm himself and in the same moment felt Ino’s hand move up through his hair. He felt her slowly work the band out of his hair and let his spikey hair down. Then she slowly started running her fingers through his hair.

She continued to do this as Shikamaru felt himself truly start to relax. As he breathed he let himself feel her body against him. He felt her skin, both soft and smooth yet hardened with muscle. He felt her fingers against his scalp, dainty but calloused from countless missions and near constant training. The feeling of her soft breasts against his hard chest. He sighed into her neck and brought his lips to her skin. Her fingers stilled only briefly in his hair before he felt her relax herself.

He dragged his lips up her neck and left a trail of kisses back down. He leaned back slightly as his hand moved from her back to her abdomen. He rubbed his thumb right below her breasts and seemed to hesitate for only a moment before he brought his hand up to graze her breast. His hand settled on the side of her neck as he lifted his face back up to kiss her.

If she was surprised by his sudden initiative, she didn’t show it. Instead she went with it, happy to let him take the lead for once. She didn’t seem to mind as he leaned her back to lay down. Nor when she felt his hands start to explore her body. Her hands gripped his hair a little harder as his lips left hers to move down her body.

Shikamaru had nothing to guide him but what he had heard or read about sex and the urges that any boy got after puberty. He may have never had any interest on acting on these urges, but he felt them all the same. Ino for her part let out sighs of what Shikamaru hoped was enjoyment. Her fingers continued to move in his hair and he felt her other hand trail along his shoulders and arms. In the back of his mind he wondered if maybe she enjoyed his body at least half as much as he enjoyed hers.

This continued for some time, the rest of their clothes coming off along the way, before Shikamaru propped himself up over her body. She looked briefly surprised by the sudden loss of contact before she looked up to meet his gaze. Her face was a little red, but he thought it might be less from embarrassment now. He didn’t really know how to proceed delicately, so he went with his usual straightforwardness.

“Uh, are you ready?” He looked like he wanted to scratch the back of his head as he asked this, but instead he settled for just looking slightly awkward. Ino let out a short laugh in response.

“How can you go from sexy to all business like that?” She smiled as she asked.

“Shut up,” He mumbled. “I just don’t want to rush things.”

“Thank you,” She said genuinely as she smiled softly. Despite himself, Shikamaru felt his heart skip a beat for the first time since they had started. His eyes softened and possibly for the first time he felt a great affection for his blond team mate. They didn’t love each other in a romantic way, but they both cared for each other and trusted the other with their life.

He had always been the one Ino entrusted her body with.

Without her having to confirm she was ready, Shikamaru went ahead and they both felt each other for the first time. Ino didn’t make any sounds of discomfort though he felt her tense up. For his part, he let out a breath that might have been close to a groan. There was no doubt that it felt good, but with her tense he found that he couldn’t enjoy the feeling. In an effort to relax her, he trailed his lips across her cheek and kissed her. There was no urgency, just the feeling of his tongue slowly moving against hers until Shikamaru felt her begin to relax around him.

Gently, he began moving, pulling his lips from hers to trail along her neck. As her heard her breath pick up, he moved the arm that wasn’t propping him up and brought his hand up to caress her breast. Hearing the sound of Ino moaning for the first time sparked urges that Shikamaru didn’t even know he was capable of feeling. Unconsciously, he picked up his pace.

As the sounds of panting and occasional moans filled the room, Shikamaru knew he wasn’t going to last long enough for her to climax. It wasn’t necessary for what she had asked of him but for a reason he didn’t entirely understand, he thought it was important she did. Going off of what he knew of the female body, he moved the hand that was on her breast down to where he knew she was most sensitive. At his touch, she gasped and he felt her contract once against him, knowing that he had been right and also knowing that he really wasn’t going to be able to last much longer.

Out of sheer determination alone, he held out as he continued to move his thumb and his hips, listening to the sound of his teammate’s moans. Just when he was afraid he wasn’t going to last after all, he heard her breathily utter his name before he felt her climax around him and he immediately felt himself come undone. He buried his face in her neck, muffling a groan as he stilled as deep as he could inside her. Through his climax he faintly felt the sensation of Ino’s nails digging into his back.

Shikamaru didn’t know how he managed not to collapse on top of her, but he still remained mostly propped above her. Both of them remained unmoving as they caught their breath, still coming down from their experience. After a minute or so, Shikamaru pulled away and rolled over and off of her, laying on his back next to her.

Neither of them said anything, maybe because at this point there was no more that needed to be said. They still didn’t love each other, so there was no declarations. ‘Thank you’ didn’t seem to be appropriate at the moment. So they said nothing. Eventually Shikamaru turned them the right way in his bed and covered them with his blanket. He obviously wasn’t going to send her home, so he just put his arm around her and she laid her head on his chest.

So she lay in his arms, Shikamaru offering her comfort that he wasn’t even sure she needed. The thought that maybe he was the one being comforted caused him to snort. Perhaps they both needed comforting, even if there wasn’t any particular reasoning. If Ino noticed his snort, she didn’t say anything.

They laid there until they eventually fell asleep. As he drifted off, Shikamaru had the thought that despite her selfishness, Ino had generously given him a feeling of security that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The next morning when they woke, there was a strange lack of awkwardness that had surely been expected. Ino got up to take a shower first and Shikamaru tried not to notice the strange way she walked. She didn’t bother to cover up and he figured it didn’t really matter after everything they had done last night.

As she showered, Shikamaru got up to grab some clothes of his to let her borrow. It might be strange for her to go home in his clothes, but they were nondescript enough that even if anyone saw her in them on her way home, they wouldn’t be suspicious. Though, even if for whatever reason they knew she was wearing his clothes, no one would suspect anything. It would never occur to their comrades that he and Ino would have any relations with each other.

He grabbed some clothes for himself and made his way to his mother’s room to borrow her shower. The shadow user stood under the warm stream of water and pondered the previous night. Unusual as it was for him, he just couldn’t seem to form any coherent thoughts about it. Obviously it had physically felt great, but emotionally he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel. Do you thank someone when you take their virginity? Then again, he guess she had also taken his. Though she had asked him to do it, so he supposed he was more taking it off her hands. He shook his head at his thoughts. There was no point in thinking about it at the moment.

After he washed up, he dried off and threw on a pair of black gym shorts and a green t-shirt. The shadow user looked at his hair and the mirror and decided he didn’t even feel like tying it up today. He would probably just stay home today anyway. He was feeling worn out from people and the only person he’d seen so far had been Ino who hadn’t even said anything yet. That was a sign.

Shikamaru walked to his kitchen to find Ino making breakfast. He noticed she was walking around normally now and something in him relaxed though he hadn’t realized he’d been worried. She had found the clothes he laid out for her and was wearing a pair of his green shorts and a black shirt. Clearly, he was a man of variety.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I was hungry and figured I mine as well make us breakfast before I head home. Besides, I’d rather just go in through my window so my mom doesn’t ask me where I’ve been,” Ino said as she cracked eggs into a pan. After their fathers had died, both of their mothers had become more concerned over their wellbeing. It wasn’t all that surprising, but Ino had also told Shikamaru that her mother had asked her to quit being a ninja after the war. His mother had asked no such thing of him, but he knew that whenever he was away on missions she slept a lot less soundly.

“That’s fine,” He responded as he took a seat at the table. She had already set a glass of juice on the table for him and he grabbed it to take a sip. As he watched her cook a thought occurred to him. “This is strange timing, and I probably should have asked about this last night, but is it okay that we didn’t use protection?” There wasn’t really a more delicate way he could think of to ask.

Ino paused briefly to listen but the question didn’t seem to bother her. Instead, she waved him off. “It’s alright, I’ve been on birth control for a while now to help with my periods. Sorry if that’s TMI,” She added in afterthought. He didn’t consider the mere mention of periods to be TMI, but he knew some people were weird about it.

“Okay,” He said and left it at that. A couple of minutes later, Ino set a plate with eggs, rice, and bacon down in front of him. The breakfast was simple and strangely he found that he appreciated that. “Thanks.”

Ino hummed in response and sat down across from him with her own plate. They ate in silence and Shikamaru found himself observing his teammate. It took him about a little over a minute to eat half of his food and the blond had barely taken two bites in that time. Knowing he should just leave it alone, he couldn’t stop himself from commenting.

“Didn’t you say you were hungry?” Shikamaru asked.

Ino blinked in surprise and looked down at her plate as though she had forgotten it was there. She picked back up the fork she had put down.

“I’m just spacing out,” She dismissed before she took a bite. The Nara boy decided to drop it. By the time he was finished with his plate, she had finished a little over half of hers and was slowing down again. Eventually, she set her fork down and gave up trying to finish all of her breakfast. There was long stretch of silence before she broke it.

“Hey, I’m sorry about making you do this,” She finally said, looking down at the table. Shikamaru blinked in surprise. He didn’t realize she was feeling guilty nor did he expect her to. Besides,

“You didn’t make me do anything. You asked me to do you a favor and I agreed to it. I wasn’t that eager about it but…” Shikamaru paused. Ino was now looking at him with interest. “Look, we’re teammates and we’ve been together our whole lives. We don’t always see eye to eye and we certainly don’t always get along, but at the end of the day we’re still there for one another. You said there was no one else you trusted to help you and I get that, because there’s no one in my life that I trust more than you and Chouji. I can only hope that Chouji never comes to me for help with a similar problem,” He added seriously.

Unexpectedly, Ino laughed. Partly over his last statement, he thought, but partly in relief. Which was good, because he meant everything he said. Especially the part about Chouji.

“Well then, I’ll say thank you instead. Thank you for being there for me whenever I need you,” She smiled and he appreciated that much more than her previous apology. He nodded and said a thanks back to her. She seemed curious over being thanked but didn’t question it.

The next week and a half had passed by mostly uneventfully. Shikamaru didn’t have any missions so he was stuck playing assistant to the Hokage again. If he had to say anything was out of the ordinary, it would be the two more times Ino had paid him a visit.

The first time had been a little less than a week after they had sex. She had appeared in his room in the middle of the night and he wasn’t sure that even she had known what she wanted. Shikamaru wasn’t one to push, but he was pretty good at taking cues. So he offered her the comfort of his body in hers and received the same comfort he felt in return the first time. He didn’t know what had prompted her to seek his reassurance, whether it was nervousness over her mission or something below the surface. Regardless, he held her after they were done and she stayed until dawn.

The next time was the night before she was going to leave. That one he chalked up to solely being nervous about her mission. His mother was gone visiting her sister again, something she had been doing more often since his father died and since Shikamaru started taking more missions. So Ino brought she supplies with her so she could leave from his house in the morning.

That night she had taken lead and Shikamaru found himself thinking that that was more expected, given their personalities. Neither of them addressed the fact that it was only supposed to be a onetime thing done as a favor. They laid together for a couple of hours afterwards, neither falling asleep despite Ino having to leave early.

Unexpectedly, Shikamaru found himself propped above her one last time. That time was quicker the previous three and he suspected that it was more for himself than her. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew this would be the last time they found comfort in each other this way. Though it had started out as a favor for a friend, it offered a calmness that Shikamaru hadn’t felt since Asuma had died. He realized he felt regret over knowing that it would be a long time before he experienced that feeling of peace again and he was certain it wouldn’t be through her.

After that, they found sleep. Hours later Shikamaru felt Ino stir and get up. He heard her shower yet made no move to get up. Even after she was dressed and ready to leave, Shikamaru stayed where he was. He had the faint idea that maybe he was sulking over his perceived loss. As if sensing his mood, Ino leaned over to kiss him, whispering one last thank you, and then she was gone.

When she came back from her mission a week later, she did seek him out again, but there was no sex involved. This time, Shikamaru held her while she cried. She didn’t say how the mission went, though he later heard it was successful in the sense that she had gathered the information needed. Shikamaru didn’t ask and he figured it wasn’t his business what had or hadn’t happened if she didn’t want to tell him. So he continued to hold her throughout the night, not bothering to offer her empty words of comfort when he didn’t understand.

The next morning, she was gone when he woke up. From that point forward, they went back to how they always had been. They never spoke of what happened and there was no tension between them. Ino went back to being boy crazy and Shikamaru went back to dodging women like it was his job. They still went on missions together as the Ino-Shika-Cho Trio and he was still the one Ino trusted with her body.

Shikamaru wasn’t sure if he would ever find his peace again, but the laughter of his team mates and comrades was enough to get him by in the meantime.