#because the screaming in my head needs to be shared

[circeyoru]

Shell of What’s Left Behind = Requested

[Traumatized!Sung Jinwoo x Former Close Friend!Reader]

The Request (revealed later on)

“Jinwoo, I don’t have a good vibe from this place…” You stuck close to him, clutching onto your weapon with a firm grip. It was a precious dagger that your family had brought for your raids, one that you treasured, and tied to the end of the dagger was a locket with a letter of goodbye if you ever end up on the unlucky side of things. At least your family would know you loved them with all your heart.

“It’s fine. This is a low-rank Gate. We can handle this. We’re at the rear anyways.” Jinwoo smiled. There wasn’t much room to refuse since he needed the money for his family. You were there because you wanted to be by his side; even with all the dangers and urges from your friends and family, you still joined him. 

Ƀēȼⱥᵾꞩē ɏꝋᵾ ⱳēɍē ħīꞩ ӻɍīēꞥđ.

No sooner, the raid began and reached its climax. Shouts of command, screams of pain, and splatters of blood were all around the raid team. It was a common sight for Hunters, but that didn’t mean it got any easier for them to treat it as normal. 

However, this battle was one that the team couldn’t win over. The monsters were overwhelming; losing the leader was a major blow and the team was in disarray. Like ants scattering about, the remaining team members all ran towards the exit. This was not something they could manage. You, being the caring self you were, carried the injured Jinwoo to the entrance. Despite the large wound across your chest and the minor cuts on your arms and legs, you pushed forward and shouted at him to stay awake until the end.

The glowing vortex was within sight, he somehow knew you turned your head to look back. That monster, that what was assumed to be the boss, was still chasing the remaining team, fighting for survival. In horror, the Gate was closing, the people in front immediately got through screaming. All that’s left are the two of you and that monster behind.

Your shaking hands reached for your dagger and had Jinwoo grip onto it. You cried, “I’m sorry, please live.” You got as close as possible to the Gate and threw Jinwoo over your shoulders and into the shrinking Gate. Jinwoo screamed your name. His sight of you with a bittersweet smile, though flipped upside-down, still didn’t help as his tears flowed. He knew. You knew. What was coming. You had turned back and charged at the monster with a battle cry. “Come after me, you vile thing!”

There, his vision went dark. The last thing he saw was the collapsed Gate that faded away, taking you along with it. 

“No!” Jinwoo screamed as he sprung up from his bed. His breathing heavy, as if he had been running a marathon as his weaker self, and his body covered in sweat. He looked around and found himself in his room. He looked down at his hands that gripped his blanket like a lifeline. These were hands that were trained until they were rough and calloused, and they were bigger than they once were. 

“My Liege?” Beru materialized beside his master, kneeling on one knee with his head bowed. “Is there something you want of me?”

Jinwoo’s hazed eyes glanced at his trusted Shadow. “No… Just… Just a nightmare…” That was an insult to your actions. “I mean… I just dreamed about that time.”

Beru’s antenna twitched, given his obsessive interest in historical drama and human knowledge from… unsavoury means, he was aware that this was a vulnerable moment for His Liege. “I will lend an ear if My Liege wants to share.”

His other Shadows, Igris and the others, popped their heads out of the shadows. A show of support, if you will, to their lord and master in his time of need. 

Jinwoo sighed. This wasn’t something he opened up about ever since it happened. He could still remember the devastated cries of your family and friends, and some were devastated enough that they blamed him for your death. While your body was never recovered due to the Gate’s collapse, it was impossible for you to be alive still. He agreed with the blame and insults; he criticized himself as well. You were loved and cared for, and you had a family to return to. Why did you sacrifice yourself for him?

For the first time, he told his Shadows all about you. Your bravery, your kindness, your selflessness. Also his guilt and vow; he’ll do everything in his power to protect his loved ones.

His Shadows unanimously agreed that you were a blessing to Jinwoo; if it weren’t for you, their master might not have been here, nor would they. Your sacrifice, though tragic, was well respected and praised between the Shadows. As more and more Shadows joined Jinwoo’s army, your tale was spread to each one, curtsy of Beru. Yet something happened…

It was another day in Jinwoo’s work as a Hunter. Since he was the pride and joy of the country, he was tasked with training newbies from time to time. This was one of them. Jinwoo was to take some higher-ranked Hunters into Gates and give them a practical lesson. As Jinwoo had his Shadows, no Gate challenged him. 

“You must all agree amongst yourselves for a leader to lead the raid and team. Communication is key when you enter a Gate; any disagreement or misstep will cost you everything.” Jinwoo stated, “But this time, we’re going into the Gate to learn hands-on about its environment, so team training… You’ll have to learn another time.”

And thus, Jinwoo and the newbies all stepped into the Gate. Everyone had their weapons in hand as they cautiously walked deeper and deeper into the dungeon. Jinwoo followed their lead behind while keeping his perceptive senses monitoring any incoming danger. The weirdest feeling of deja vu washed over him the longer they stayed in the dungeon. 

“There’s only dead bodies so far…”

“Is it cannibalism?”

“A fight among beasts?”

Yes. So far, they have only come across corpses in various stages of decomposition. Some looked as if it just died from all the twitching from presumably muscle memory, similar to how a snake would still move around after the head is chopped off for a few hours, and some were all bones. Then there were others in between that would make people gag.

“This isn’t right.” Jinwoo stopped the group. Everyone halted at his words, none daring to object. Jinwoo summoned his Shadows and told the Hunters, “Return back to the entrance with my Shadows. Tell the association people that I need to investigate this dungeon alone. No one comes in.”

“Right!”

“Yes, sir!”

Jinwoo watched as they left, he called front Igris to join him and the knight appeared by his side. “We’re going in.”

His steps echoed in the empty dungeon. Igris’ knight plates cling and clung with each move. Jinwoo’s eyes glanced around. This place was familiar. How could he forget? It took him so long to push back the trauma of that raid, still, he never forgot. The walls were lined with moss, the dungeon theme blended forest and cave together. Torched fires lined the sides to light the way. If his memories serve him right, and it does, the fire torches all lead to the boss room that started that tragedy all those years ago. 

“Jinwoo, I don’t have a good vibe from this place…”

“It’s fine. This is a low-rank Gate. We can handle this. We’re at the rear anyways.” Jinwoo spoke as he turned the corner. Igris glanced at his lord but played ignorance.

Jinwoo stopped at the entrance. He summoned his daggers. He took a deep breath and exhaled. It was time to put the past behind him. Just like that time with the Double Dungeon. This would be nothing. There are no moving statues and his Shadows are with him. It was a piece of cake compared to that time. It was just his nightmare brought to life. This is a sign to move on. You’d want that too.

Swiftly, he turned the corner and rushed towards the only living thing that his senses picked up. However, when his eyes landed on his target his form froze up. His daggers dropped to the ground. “No… No way…”

There, by the throne, was a slumped figure. A broken sword lying on the ground, the hand that released it. The figure was leaning against the throne’s side to rest. Clothes were all covered in dirt and blood; there were even holes here and there, exposing bare skin. Eyes closed, but the chest was moving up and down. 

Alive.

You were alive.

Jinwoo screamed your name and rushed forward, abandoning his daggers and Igris. He kneeled in front of you and inspected you closely; you were dirty, yes, but you weren’t wounded anymore. There was still that giant tear in front that showed your chest, so he took off his coat and wrapped it around you. As he was doing that, your eyes suddenly snapped open and you lunged at him, aiming for his neck.

The shock made him lose balance and he fell to his back. You saddled him and pushed your hands down on his neck, cutting off air supply. “Wait… It’s me….”

Igris wanted to act but Jinwoo had him and the others stay put.

The pressure you applied was stronger than he expected, but not strong enough for it to be life-threatening. “It’s me… Sung Jinwoo…”

You bore your teeth at him. Your head tilted to the left, then right as if glitching. Your eyes blinked with force. Your arms trembled. One of your hands removed from his neck to his forehead, pushing it down into the ground. “Hu…n…gr…y…. F…oo…”

Hungry. Food. You were talking. Albeit broken, but he could still understand and saw that you were acting on instinct. He opened his inventory where some bread was still left from the last time. “Sorry, but I have to do this.” He shoved the bread into your open mouth. “Eat! Chew it!”

With something in your mouth, you stopped with the assault and blinked. Your jaw moved and you started biting into the bread. Your hands removed themselves from Jinwoo’s form and pushed the bread deeper into your mouth to consume it. When it was done, you eyed Jinwoo again, your hands starting to position to where they were before.

“Wait! There’s more!” Jinwoo made more bread appear. 

Your attention shifted to the bread and grabbed them to consume it. You were so focused on eating all that bread that you didn’t even feel or care Jinwoo nudging you off of him, even moving you to sit on the throne to eat in peace.

He took the time to observe you. Apart from what he noticed before, you had dried blood at the crown of your head, some even stuck to your hair. Unconsciously, he reached for it and touched it, there was nothing, just smooth skin. He looked around at the empty dungeon, corpses of monsters laid around. He turned back to you and his heart ached. You survived, but no one searched for you; no one made any effort or clung to hope that you were somewhere out there waiting to be rescued.

Not even him.

“I’m sorry.” Jinwoo muttered. “I’ll bring you out of this dungeon and you can eat all you want. I promise.”

Your eyes looked up from the bread and snapped at him. “O..u….t he….re…?”

Jinwoo nodded. “Yeah, out of this dreadful place.” Jinwoo reached to hug you close to him. “I’m sorry I left you in here all alone…”

Your eyes blinked and looked at him, then up and back to the side. Your arms moved up to mimic his hug as best you could. Your eyes turned their attention to one of the corpses in the room. No one but Igris seemed to have noticed that unnerving smile that spread on your former stoic face. However, it was not Igris’ place to speak out, for he could tell this was a touching moment for his liege.

The knight questioned if that was indeed His Lord’s long-lost friend.

▬▬▬▬▬⬧⬦⬧⬦⬧⬦⬧⬦⬧⬦⬧⬦⬧⬦⬧⬦⬧⬦⬧⬦⬧⬦⬧▬▬▬▬▬

Igris was assigned to watch over His Liege’s dear former close friend, just as Beru was assigned to watch over His Liege’s mother and younger sister. His strongest Shadows were given the greatest tasks among the rest of the Shadows. 

You couldn’t be left alone. You’d lash out at anyone who wasn’t Jinwoo, going for their neck or head if they were to come close to you. Your mind had determined everyone as a threat to your survival except Jinwoo, possibly due to Jinwoo providing you with food when you were hungry and dying from starvation. 

As hard as it was, you were given a health checkup with Jinwoo’s help. The doctors deduced you had consumed monster meat to stay alive for that long and drank the monsters’ blood as a source of water. You had healed yourself of your wounds, likely thanks to consuming monsters. It was barbaric, but it was what you had to do to survive. 

The lack of human contact had driven you mad to a degree that you couldn’t speak as fluently, so Jinwoo contacted a speech therapist to help you. Along with other therapies to get you reacquainted with society. Still, giving you water and food was a little trick for earning your trust. You were more docile when you saw people around you to be non-threatening. 

After everything that was immediate was taken care of, your family was contacted and everyone was reunited with you. But. You showed no recollection of any of them. Another assessment was given. It turns out that you had no memory of who you were or why you were in the dungeon. What you knew was to live and eat, then repeat.

Though heartbreaking to hear, your family still accepted you back into your home. They didn’t care as long as you were back with them. That was the same with Jinwoo. They all said memories could be made, and who knows, maybe your memory will return the longer you are with them.

“I actually look very different from your memories, not that you remember now.” Jinwoo chuckled, scratching the side of his cheek. “There was some growth spurt. I’m not the weak E-Rank you knew and need protection, now I’m one of the strongest, an S-Rank Hunter.”

You didn’t seem to show much interest as you ate your third steak. At least you chewed and nodded from time to time. Before you were literally inhaling the food you were given as if someone would steal it if you had taken your time. Now you were still taking giant bites. Baby steps, baby steps. Jinwoo pushed the glass of water to you when you appeared to have a harder time swallowing.

“I can protect you now. You don’t need to sacrifice yourself for me. If anything, now I’ll sacrifice myself for you.” Jinwoo pledged, he stared to search for some form of reaction. You would have been slamming your hands on the table and rejecting his words or you’d laugh at him.

There was not even a flinch or recognition from you. 

This is all my fault. He bit the inside of his lower lip. He calmed himself as he told himself you needed more time. You were alive. That’s all he needed now. He put up a smile as he told you, “If you like eating so much, you should try a buffet. I bet you can clear the entire table. Actually, what do you want? I’ll treat you to it next time.”

Without missing a beat, you spoke clearly. “Brain.”

He wouldn’t lie. There was a chill when you stoically answered. He choked it up to the time in the dungeon that changed your taste. Perhaps the brain was the tastiest organ to consume? Well, he did promise. “Okay, you need to promise to behave though.”

“Promise?” Your head tilted.

“Yeah. So you will do something.” Jinwoo explained as best he could.

“Eat brain!” You nodded enthusiastically. 

“No! That’s your reward if you behave.” Jinwoo waved his hands. He sighed as he tried to find a way to simplify it. “Okay. If you be good, then I’ll bring you brains to eat.”

You looked down as you hummed, seemingly thinking hard. Then you looked up at him, “I bad. No brain?”

“Yeah. If you’re bad, then you can’t eat brain. Being good is eating, sleeping, and everything else?” Jinwoo really tried his best with this.

“Then promise.” You nodded again. You pointed a finger at him, specifically his forehead, “Speared. Brain. You give food.” A smile spread on your face, “Freedom.”

From then on, Igris was in your shadow, watching over you. Apart from you being a bit abnormal in your speech and actions, you were fitting into society more and more. Before you spoke broken sentences, now you managed to hold a conversation. While your memories were still non-existent, you still acted fine.

You kept your promise, so Jinwoo kept his. He’s brought you to exotic restaurants that actually served brains as a dish, even other organs. There were some that actually served dungeon monster parts as a delicacy. He thought it was a one-time thing or until you were treated so you’d put your dungeon life behind you, but it persisted. Who was he to judge? It was the least he could do for you.

Jinwoo’s Shadows could see the positive effect you had on their master and prompted the two of you to spend more time together. Beru was the one to suggest more exotic food sources to Jinwoo and even learn some cooking for some alone time with you, since you surprisingly could understand Beru. 

All but Igris maintained distance from you. There was something about your smile and actions back when you were found that ‘rubbed’ him the wrong way. Sadly, he wasn’t able to communicate with his Lord like Beru due to his restricted abilities, and it wasn’t like Beru would entertain his unnecessary concern when their Lord was the happiest.

All of the Shadows knew Jinwoo treasured you. While at first you didn’t seem the same, slowly you cared for Jinwoo as well. That was all that was needed. The Shadows were more than happy to take guard duty for your protect since protecting your safety was the same as securing their Lord’s joy. Previously, their Lord’s ecstasy was in growing strength and power, now with you around, it was all perfect.

They all hoped and waited for the day the knot was tied.

Time passed on like that.

There you were, scrolling your phone. Until your eyes landed on an article. {BREAKING NEWS! A NEW DUNGEON MONSTER IDENTIFIED!} Your eyes scanned down to see what was written.

〚A parasitic type of monster has been identified in the recent recovery of monster corpses. This parasitic life form feeds on a monster as a host to continue the consumption of other beings. While limited information is known about these monsters, it was found that they prefer fresher corpses, preferably recently killed and all bodily functions are still maintained.〛

〚A report from a recent Red Gate raid stated that these monsters can function the same in human bodies. All memories of the host will be lost and the monster controls the host until it is destroyed. The other Hunters have found out when the affected Hunter was consuming raw bodies and seeking any living creature as food.〛

〚The host is said to have gained incredible strength, speed, agility, and healing ability. A sign of affected individual could be the head or neck, or a large wound in the upper body. However, the best way to determine a host is by memory and speech. These monsters are unable to master human communication immediately upon possession.〛

Your eyes widened and you threw your phone at the wall, shattering it into pieces. Your eyes blinked and blinked again, your head robotically turned behind you when you felt Igris appear. His armoured hand reached for your neck and slammed you into the wall, moving you up until your feet were dangling.

“Ha…” You smirked as you glared down at the knight sent to protect you. “You… figured it out…. Didn’t you?”

“How dare you play with My Lord’s care and feelings.” Igris hissed, applying more force on you. “I will kill you and free My Lord from you.”

“Kill me if you can.” You challenged the Shadow without fear. “That human you call ‘lord’ will be devastated once more. Picture it: the loyal knight tasked to protect his lord’s beloved was the merciless killer.”

“You…” Igris pushed you into the wall, and slowly cracks formed around you.

You noticed the glow in Igris’ ‘eyes’ and cried tears, “Jinwoo! Jinwoo! Help!! Your Shadow knight! Ack! He’s… Choking me! Hel…p…”

Igris shuddered as he felt his Lord’s rage. Without a second later, Igris was pushed off of you by Beru, even pinned to the ground. You collapsed to the ground from your spot, coughing as you tried to breathe again. Jinwoo was by your side, patting your back as you took your sweet time.

“Slowly, there’s no rush.” Jinwoo reassured you. “You’re safe. You’re safe now.”

“Jinwoo!” You cried as you flung yourself into his embrace. “I’m sorry if I did anything to upset you! I’m sorry!”

“You don’t have to apologize, you never did anything bad.” Jinwoo hugged you, combing through your hair. He glared at Igris as Beru screeched bloody murder. “It’s okay. Igris will be punished.”

“I’m scared! I’m scared of your soldiers!” Your form shook uncontrollably. You hid a sinister smirk in Jinwoo’s embrace. “I was going to die again! I’m scared! Jinwoo!”

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From then on, Igris was placed into a time-out zone of sorts. Shadows were also removed from your shadow because you had another trauma that had built. Jinwoo was more attentive towards you and even gave you all kinds of things. In contrast, the other Shadows all questioned and doubted Igris for attempting to take away their master’s source of joy. In a way, neglect was punishment for Igris.

However, you thought it was not enough. Merely dining monster brains was not enough. A human’s brain was delicious. Maybe it was the intellect, maybe it was the rarity when within the dungeon. Either way, the craving for human brains was immense. There was also no way Jinwoo was going to satisfy that need. There has to be another source.

Somewhere away from Jinwoo’s Shadows. Where?

Ah.

You travelled to the rural areas. You did your business. You returned. 

〚Last night. A man was found dead with his head missing. Authorities are still trying to locate-〛

You repeated that.

〚Just this morning, a young girl was found brutally murdered in the forest. It appears her body was stabbed then savaged by wild-〛

None knew who it was that did it.

〚An elderly-〛

〚Another-〛

〚There has been-〛

〚Who is this serial killer that-〛

〚Authorities are urging-〛

It indeed was a buffet. Humans were weak, as long as the target wasn’t a high-ranking Hunter, it was a free meal. Jinwoo was too busy with the Monarch business that he had no time. Though you might have heard he died somewhere along the way? Well, it didn’t matter. As long as you got time away from him.

Your priority was food and survival.

Bloodied hands pushed the mashy organ to the lips. A dead body lay at the feet of the killer. The skull was cut open with a discarded axe, the head was now empty. Blood soaked the floor, creating connecting mini rivers of red.

Your head tilted to the side like a click and turned back. A familiar Shadow was standing there. You smiled, “Igris. Long time no see. How’s the punishment?”

“Be honest to My Lord and come clear while you have the chance. Parasite.” Igris warned.

“You can talk now? Did you eat a human too?” You blinked. “Welcome to the party.”

“You will answer for your crimes.” Igris stood to the side while holding part of his cape, it glowed and a vortex appeared. You watched another figure join the scene, out stepped Jinwoo.

With a groan, you glared. You knew there was no hiding it now. “Party pooper.” A dagger was thrown into your precious body, or it would have if not for your hand catching it. Your hand shook as you tried to prevent it from piercing your flesh. A grin formed, “Shall I tell you about my host’s last moments?”

Jinwoo appeared in front of you and punched you in the neck. You threw five or six into the trees until one managed to within the force and stopped you from continuing your flight. You coughed out a mouth full of blood. Your eyes moved from all over the place as you assessed the damage. Broken bones, neck’s definitely broken. It was impossible to get away alive.

Your healing ability focused on your neck and head to torment the Hunter that brought you out of the dungeon. “My host screamed, ‘Run! Don’t look back!’ even as the exit closed. My host was very vocal. My host was dying. My host said, ‘I love you, Sung Jinwoo.’ and fell.”

“Shut up.” Jinwoo stabbed a dagger into your chest and stomach. “Stop talking.”

“Why? You help teach me how to talk.” You grinned, blood rolling down your body, but you didn’t care. “I gained my host’s body and love of those who cared for my host. I am the luckiest among my kind.”

Jinwoo impaled another dagger into your chest. Even knowing that a parasite was inside your body and it wasn’t you, he couldn’t hurt your head any further.

“My host was smart. My host hid the memories by death. Otherwise, I could have been the perfect stand-in.” The parasite used your voice to make it sound pitiful. “I have no regrets. My life was the best.” It looked at Jinwoo with your gaze that he had long fallen for. “Would you be able to kill my host?”

Jinwoo tightened his hold on his dagger, clenching his jaw as his eyes watered.

“My Lord.” Igris stepped forward, “If you’ll allow.”

“Igris…” Jinwoo looked at the knight who was once misunderstood. If it wasn’t for the removal of restriction, he would have been in the dark until who knows when. If only he hadn’t been blinded by his relief over your return.

Jinwoo stepped back.

Igris stepped forward and raised his blade. “Your fibble attempt to buy time has failed.”

“Wait! Hey! No! You can’t! I- I love you, Jinwoo! Please save me! Please help me! I was wrong! Pleas-” The sound of crunching sounds echoed in the silence. 

Jinwoo dropped to his knees. “How could I have been so blind?! I should have- I should have known! The signs... It was all there...”

Igris stared at your form. Your head was unrecognizable, all to kill the parasite that had devoured your brain and used your body for its twisted needs. Your skin pale like the white snow during the freezing winter. Yet your body appeared as healthy and normal as any other human he saw on the streets; there was not a sign of malnutrition or harm despite playing host to a life form of the most despised kind.

When he heard his Lord’s stories about you, he did take a liking to you. He wanted to be your protector as you have protected his Lord when he was at his weakest. You were like him, a defender and protector. To have your body violated in such a way was a disgrace and a crime of the highest degree. In human terms, he wished this would free you of your suffering soul that he knew without a doubt would be watching over his Lord even after death.

First, before anything!! I'd like to thank @vereimeja for the wonderful opening and closing image slides of this story! They have created the two pictures you guys see here!! It was so good that I had to use it! Perfect because it begun with E-rank!Jinwoo and ended with S-rank!Jinwoo. It's like you read my story beforehand! (just kidding) Thank you thank you all the same for your artwork contribution!!!

Note: Yes, this is angst—full angst. As requested. As you guys can no doubt tell, the dividers in between the story are the part separation if it were to come out one by one. Haha.

BUT I have written an alternative ending where a happy end is there, Jinwoo's still traumatized, but it's a comfort end I'll say. Now, I say alternative end, but it's just an additional part. Let me know if you guys want that out too.

One last thing, I changed the title cause this sounded much better~

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: @mydearestbeloved @icefox8155 @loudlylovingcreator-blog @o-qi-shisme @vereimeja @shineinouzen15

[dadsbongos]

on hard times

5.4k words / summary - jimmy needs a place to stay, and what place is better than with his enabling best friend, curly, and curly's hot step-daughter? nothing could go wrong!

warnings - fem!reader, piv sex, noncon jimmy, stepcest, objectification/sexism (thank u jimmy), curly and jimmy should both be shot in the head

reader is 20 not actually a teenager.

[B Side: Jimmy Zare]

Sitting in a hospital room is not unfamiliar to Jimmy, the only peculiarity to it now being that he’s the one in a gown with his ass out. He’s perched over the edge of the bed now, elbows on his knees and flicking an unlit cigarette between two fingers. Below him is a head of flaxen hair, thick hands unzipping a black bag full to the lumps of plain long-sleeves and jeans and socks.

Grant Curly is Jimmy's sole emergency contact. Mrs. Grant Curly used to be Curly's emergency contact. Next was Grant Curly senior. Then Jimmy Zare.

Jimmy thinks that's fucked up. He should have a Mrs. Jimmy Zare and a Jimmy Zare senior and then, finally and as a last resort, there would be Grant Curly.

But, unfortunately, that’s just not true.

Curly now rolls socks on both Jimmy’s feet. Patting the man’s ankle in a way meant to be reassuring, but only squeezes repulsion from Jimmy’s face.

“I can dress myself,” he sneers.

Lots of remarks could’ve followed from Curly’s mouth -- most apparent being: why’d you let me get this far? None of them come, though, Curly simply nods and stands and kicks the bag closer to where Jimmy’s legs dangle over the edge.

“You got everything?” Curly grimaces at his own question, “What happened to your phone?”

Jimmy shrugs before shucking on a stiff pair of jeans, grunting with the effort and cupping his bruised over stomach, “Dunno.”

Curly bites back a sigh, Jimmy watches it happen in real time: a little bit more faith in him is eaten back by disappointment.

All the same, he pulls over a black long sleeve. Violet stomach screaming in protest as he hisses a curse for his dimwitted neighbor, stumbling back into the bed.

“Alright,” Curly bends, hands out to assist Jimmy in standing, “Let’s get you home.”

Jimmy elbows his friend away, paying no mind the pained wheeze he lets out, before stumbling onto two feet by himself. In the hand not bracing his abdomen, is a crinkled plastic bag with vomit-stained clothes and a peeling leather belt.

In silence they wade through the buzzing clinical halls. Hours prior this same hallway was in chaos, Jimmy knows that -- he just doesn’t remember it. Not between yellow-black dots sucking out the light in his eyes or the stinging remnants of bile around his teeth. Now the corridor is sleepier, and stars are beginning to crawl out from behind the horizon.

Jimmy wonders if he waited until now- if his neighbor would’ve had her kids already in bed, too tired to check out the next trailer over rattling-

He supposes it doesn’t matter. He’s already breaking out toward the parking lot with Curly.

Who then takes a bold step toward the bubblegum Jeep with no back doors, which he knows is not Curly’s car. Meaning one thing,

“Oh,” Curly says like a last minute thought, “Kid’s home, by the way. I hope that’s fine.”

He smiles in such a tight way that slyly communicates: it better be fine because there’s no fighting this. All importance Mrs. Grant Curly took up in the man’s life was drained instantly when she served divorce papers; a space rapidly refilled with the child from a previous marriage. The crooked thorn in Jimmy’s side. The new emergency contact. You.

“Why do you even have a room for it?” Jimmy shuffles into the passenger side, scooting the seat forward and leaving the seatbelt dangling at his shoulder, “Not your kid.”

Curly waves off such criticism, “I love her! She’s nice and funny, everything I could’ve wanted.”

“Ugh,” Jimmy gags, eyes fluttering shut, “Do I get my own room, or do I have to share?”

If his eyes were open, he’s certain he’d be forced to gaze upon that same pressed smile. That stale smile that says more than enough. Jimmy will not like this.

“You got the couch or my bed,” a click and hum vibrates Jimmy in his seat before the car electrifies with whistling pop music. Big chunky tires rolling onto the highway back into clean cut suburbs.

Jimmy cringes at the moaning welps over the radio and flings a hand out, one eye creaking open just enough to make out the volume knob between his crowding lashes. Twisting it far down while croaking,

“You’re a grown ass man, the fuck are you listening to that shit for?”

“It’s just what she left on,” Curly’s jovial, despite the rude quizzing, “You don’t like a bit of girly pop?”

Jimmy glares, turning his whole head to spit daggers toward his friend, “If that little cunt is playing this shit while I’m over, one of us is dying.”

Curly just laughs, then quietly murmurs -- too quiet to be taken seriously, “Don’t call her that.”

Curly is like the sun. Big and bright and nurturing no matter how violently you resist. Making Jimmy mercury: small and red and forever revolving around him.

Upon pulling into the broad driveway up to Curly’s two-story home, Jimmy’s already rich negative attitude only sours more. He spots the sleek little navy blue Toyota Corolla (that’s seen more blood and sweat and tears than your cute two-seater would ever know about) closer to the door.

“Why’d you pick me up in this if your car was here?”

“I figured you’d appreciate this one more,” Curly snarks, killing the engine and jingling your ring of chains with two keys. One for the house and one for your car. Aside from that is a rose gold blinged out rectangle with your name on it, pink little plastic cats, a metal fairy, and purple fuzzy dice.

“Figured wrong,” Jimmy slinks out, curling the clear bag of his belongings to his chest before patting the plastic with loud ‘pops’ as the pair steps through the front door, “I wanna wash this.”

Curly hisses lowly, head turning toward the very obviously clunking washing machine in the utility closet, “I think she’s doing a load right now.”

Ideally, Jimmy would toss his shit in with yours but God forbid the princess gets just a little crusted vomit washed off alongside her delicate thin dresses and lace panties.

“Then I just leave this shit?”

“Looks like it.”

Jimmy really hates you -you’re a little bitch. And you’re hopping down the stairs in a yellow Pony Express shirt three sizes too big for you, smiling, waving, melodically chirping:

”Hi, Uncle Jimmy!”

“Don’t call me that,” Jimmy huffs at you, eye rolling while Curly’s back still faces him from the kitchen.

You stop at the foot of the steps and pout out at him, “Jeez, aren’t you rude? Did they have to amputate your heart out there?”

Jimmy rolls his eyes again, this time with more apparent gusto. He flips you off to boot. You pull an offended scowl before trampling over to Curly and tugging the back of his shirt, murmuring dirt and shit and lies into his big ear. Curly doesn’t spare the energy of twisting back before calling out,

“Jim’ play nice, please?!”

Jimmy hates you. You’re not even Curly’s. You were just some teenage sulk when you came into their lives, and now you’re some codependent wimp living at home. Despite the blonde never complaining about this fact, Jimmy just knows it’s insane that you’re still clinging around. It’s all that pampering Curly did on you.

You skip back out, hands tied behind your back with that awful smile. Rosy lipped with just the perfect sliver of teeth showing, and the apples of your cheeks glowing. The best part of you perched like that is that he can make out the plumpness of your tits -- could probably even reach out and squeeze one before you manage untangling your hands to shove him off.

“So, how long are you staying?” your soft voice grates him again,

Shrugging at you, Jimmy confesses, “Until I get my own house back.”

Your mouth opens, brows furrowed, then they dart up in shock -or perhaps realization- and your mouth closes. You nod and look back at Curly, then again at Jimmy, “Okay,” and prattle back into the kitchen.

Murmuring ensues.

That’s when Curly presses, “Jim’, are you takin’ my room or the couch?!”

More murmuring. You hiss something and he can see the whip of your arm as you whack the blonde’s arm. He laughs quietly and waltzes out, shaking his head a bit,

“Sorry, little lady says you’ve gotta take the couch.”

Jimmy’s scowl must be so hilarious because Curly just laughs harder. You come out whining, smacking at the man’s arm again with a belated shush.

Your concern is brushed off without thought, “It’s just Uncle Jimmy.”

You love Grant, really. He’s been a massive teddy bear since the day you met, but his fatal flaw is his guilted sense of devotion. Especially when it revolved around dear old Uncle Jimmy.

A soft jingle and hiss clues you all to the sudden silence where a machine once clanged. Jimmy spares no seconds before thumbing over his shoulder and seething at you, “Change your load over. I got shit to wash.”

“Grant, don’t let him talk to me like that!” you stomp your foot and whine.

“‘Grant’,” Jimmy mimics your voice, tone nasally and drawn impossibly high.

“Already bickering,” Curly plasters on his worst smile yet, hands fisted on his hips, “This’ll be a good time.”

***

It, decidedly, has not been a good time.

Not in the mornings.

“Grant’s out for his jog,” you mumble around a spoonful of fruity cereal. Milk faintly pink from the artificial dyes.

Jimmy doesn’t even dignify you with a response, prowling from the bed with his striped pajama pants sagging and an unmatching black beater swerved to expose one of his nipples.

“You have a tit piercing?” said with undeniably judgment. Poking the bear just to prove it won’t do anything.

As expected, you receive sullen silence. Jimmy only confirms he heard you in how he roughly yanks the thin material to cover the silver bar through his nipple.

That’s precisely when you spot something sure to make the bear roar. Thin line upon thin line, now blistering white and all stacked in uneven rows along each forearm. A couple stretch past his elbow. You open your mouth, then think better of pointing those out. Partially from some undeserved pity, and partially because of some fleeting certainty he’ll actually kill you over that remark.

“Slept in real late today, huh?” is what you decide on instead.

Jimmy, again, completely skimps you. Rooting around the cabinets until he finds the shiniest bowl and clacking it loudly on the marble counter. Taking down your box of pebbles cereal, ignoring your scoffed protests, and pouring out an overly generous portion. Despite his determination to dodge you, he throws down his bowl -splattering milk over the hardwood table as he does- right beside yours.

Chair skidding out before he hunches over the table. Elbows ungracefully planted on either side of his bowl.

From your peripherals, you watch Jimmy eat. Milk dribbles down his greyed scruff and he crunches open-mouthed, you can identify each sugary morsel just before it’s mashed into rainbow paste. No amount of blatant cringing or sighing does you any favors, so you resort to simply abandoning breakfast before you hurl what’s gone down.

Little do you know that as you rise, so too does the material of your itty bitty silk shorts. Riding up into your ass until fat is spilling out the bottom, and Jimmy hones in on the sight as soon as you’re up. Following with utmost interest as you round the table and perch onto the silver sink ledge, flicking on the hot tap. Definitely prettier bent over the counter than when you’re talking.

If you were his step-daughter you’d probably never leave the house. He’d have the door deadbolted from the outside.

Jimmy blinks at that. Leaning back in his chair, stare unwavering as your hips veer left and right with the effort of scrubbing out dried cereal, and folding his arms. He blinks again, this time with more confidence in his chest.

There’s a reason you’re here, and it isn’t because you’re Curly’s kid.

“Hey,” Jimmy’s voice is buried in the back of his throat, all gravel and rock beneath every different thing he actually wants to say. Eyes rounding over your exposed ass cheeks, “Why’d your parents split?”

Your guttural offense is pretty indicating, “Grant’s not my dad.”

“You still live with him.”

“Yeah, when I’m not on campus.”

Jimmy’s silence is so stagnant, you have to turn to confirm he’s still in the room.

Surprisingly, he is, and he’s staring right at you. Every muscle in his face stony, a hardset confidence as if he knows everything before he even opens his mouth, “Your mom’s just downtown, isn’t she?”

Rather than rationalize -whether it’s a lie or not- you swallow the nerves in your throat and turn back on him, “Why do you care so much? Do you wanna live here forever or something?”

“Call it curiosity.”

“Then be curious about why you don’t have your own place yet,” if you spent even a second longer at that sink then you would’ve gotten a ceramic bowl buried into your skull.

Luckily you immediately break for the stairs, jumping them two at a time (joke’s on your stupid ass anyway, now he’s memorizing the way your tits jiggle up each step).

Not out on errands.

Jimmy’s leaning against the rickety cart with a plastic red handcover. Head drooped to one shoulder, silently observing as you stretch up to grab a jar of Curly’s favored peanut butter from the top shelf.

“You can ask for help,” Jimmy sneers.

You ignore him, flagrantly. Even kicking a leg onto the bottom shelf, selfishly knocking over thin blue boxes of macaroni with your other foot stretching backward. One hand clutching the middle of the bay for purchase, the other high above your head.

“Fine, be a bitch about it,” he sighs and sinks back.

Suddenly thankful he did because at this angle with you reaching for that height: your little cotton panties suctioned against your pussy lips become visible beneath that teeny pleated skirt. A studded belt hangs limply around the loops.

The swell of your ass is more obvious from down here, too.

Jimmy hangs a little more to the side, slowly fishing out his phone and holding it at his chest. Eyes drawing toward the screen as he ensures his flash is off before snapping a far away picture. Then two fingers crawl over the glass, pinching at your cunt and zooming in for another three pics.

Briefly, he wonders if he could get away with reaching out and pulling aside the gusset for the holy grail of shots.

Just as his hands are twitching to carry out the mull-over, you’re fucking turning. Sweaty and huffing,

“Okay, fine, can you grab this?”

Jimmy pockets his phone with an eye roll and easily swipes the orange-lidded jar into your cart.

Not at dinner.

“You get this every night?” Jimmy asks, undeniably lewd with thighs sprawled apart on the chair. A hand clutching either knee.

Curly shrugged, hands politely folded over his abdomen, “Not every night. Sometimes we order in.”

“Your own housewife in training,” Jimmy whistles, watching you at the stove and not bothering to temper his volume, “Guy that puts a ring on it will be lucky.”

Out of minuscule respect for Curly, Jimmy decides against vocalizing the rest of his statement.

Still, though, Curly has the gall to look offended. Broad chest puffing out and thick jaw setting into a disturbed square. Hands curling around each other less politely now, and his knee starts bouncing as he says,

“Won’t need a husband when dad’s here for her.”

Jimmy can only laugh as you visibly cringe upon the utterance of that dreaded ‘D’-word.

“What do you think of that, kid?” Jimmy rolls one elbow over the back of his chair, spare hand now flattening over the table, “No husband, just Dad.”

“He’s not my dad…” you grumble, not unlike that pouty, sulky teenager you were when you and Jimmy first met.

“Well, any dating prospects?” it’s the most tender Jimmy has been with you yet, and by the immediate glow in your face he can read your appreciation.

Curly, however, is the one to answer -a much more rotten expression written over his face, “No,” he frightens himself with how aggressively the two letters spit out, so he tries again with the tiniest, fakest chuckle, “No suitors yet.”

And now you’re pissed, glaring at Curly before whipping right back around.

Jimmy revels in it. Watching you and your step-dad silently bat one argument over the other. He wonders if you two really think it’s all over his head.

And certainly not at night.

On the way to your room is Curly’s. Curly is a deep sleeper, so Jimmy has never felt more assured than right now as he twists the handle on your bedroom door.

Unlocked. As it should be. Your sweet heart entirely unassuming to the dangerous wiles of men twice your age.

He bets your pussy is even sweeter than your heart. It has to be when your personality is so gratingly cliche. Maybe by the end he’ll be even more bewitched by you than Curly.

The thought makes him snort.

Steadily planting a knee onto your marshmallow mattress, Jimmy soothes one hand over your thigh -- kicked over fluffy pink blankets. Soft skin that bounces right back into place. Firm and dewy. Your body embraces him completely, which he already knew it would.

A crackly groan makes his eyes dart from your thigh to your face scrunching at the sudden contact.

Silently, he squeezes, just to see the exact moment you rouse behind those batting lashes.

Initially, you smile -tight-lipped- until your bleary vision makes out the figure on your bed. That exact moment, when you realize who’s groping up your thigh, is when your smile tears apart.

“Calm down,” he husks into the open air of your bedroom, calloused palms cutting along your waist and pausing at the warmth of your collar bones, “It’s just Uncle Jimmy.”

Now is when you kick. A startled gasp shoved back behind the palm of his hand, fingers clamping tight around your jaw. He swings a leg over yours, effectively straddling your pelvis. Grinding down between your legs, something thick and hard protruding from the loose stripes of his pajama pants.

“Feel that?” he taunts, pressing against you harder, lowering his face by yours until the stiff scruff along his cheeks is tearing up your soft skin, “That’s my dick, and it’s going inside you.”

A scream is muffled against his thick palm, you smack at his ribs but he pushes forward without constraint, wrenching up your silk candy slips. The sleaziest little smirk smears over his entire face as your boobs spill out, he cuffs the material to your throat. Pressing your legs open with his own, kneeling on one of your thighs with his full weight and you’re sure the bone’s going to snap. Another scream dies against his meaty hand.

Reaching up, you knot one hand in his stringy hair -yanking out chunks of chestnut- and crushing fingerprints into his eyes.

“Be -fuckin’- nice,” Jimmy tugs you down the bed, blanketing your body with his, “to Uncle Jimmy, yeah?” he snickers in your wide-eyed, sweaty face, quickly swapping the hand over your mouth with his lips. Spearing your face open with his tongue, slobbering over you.

Burying your knees into Jimmy’s sides does about as much as it would if you flicked paper in his face.

Jimmy peels off your thin lace panties, balling them up in one hand and yoinking down his pants with the other. Stretchy hem now digging halfway down his thighs, he taps the hot head against your clit. Then sliding it down your slit, highlighting around your hole with two circles. Grunting against your lips, sinking just beneath the seam to drag back up toward the twitchy little pink bundle up top.

Licking over your tongue one final time, he saps up the final sweet mint taste from your toothpaste before pulling back. Pecking you, outrageously chaste for a man now bruising your tits with his fingers, before parting altogether.

Sneering, “Keep quiet for me,” and stuffing your own panties into your sodden, swollen mouth.

Jimmy heaves your knees over his shoulders, bending over you before sliding in -- staring you dead in the eyes as he lets out the most dramatic huff. You gasp as he sheathes in a single swing, throwing your head back at the sudden stretch with a grunt following.

“Soft and warm,” he hums, biting at your pulse with sick glee, “Tight.”

You wail in protest, but it gurgles out a little sweeter. Just a tad higher pitched than you mean for. Eyes watering and back arching as you try budging for even slight breathing room.

Stubbornly, Jimmy locks his chest against your bouncing tits. Eyes needling down at the pillowing flesh, hard nipples peeking out with every ragged thrust. Thrusts that get smoother, steadier, wetter the longer he’s inside you.

Cold teeth dig into your neck, velvet tongue laving the area as he sucks welts along your skin. Hot pants fanning the juncture with every gushy dive of his hips. Then he laughs out the cruelest dig when that first splat rings around the sweltering room:

“Take it so good, princess,” just to continue with a snide, “Knew you would.”

Biting down on your spit-soaked panties provides superficial comfort, squeals still leaking from the corners of your mouth. Muffled, but not silenced.

“What would your old man think about this?” he chokes, pulling up enough to stare down at your pinched face, “You’re gonna cum for me.”

One of his hands settles over your throat, crushing the sides warmly. Not enough to actually choke you, but just so there’s bruises by tomorrow morning.

“He’ll have to get rid of one of us,” Jimmy hisses coldly, now scarring his bottom lip with crooked teeth, brows furrowing as his cock twitches in your sucking cunt.

it better be you he thinks curly was mine before you

He spits down onto where you’re swallowing him up -- frothy spit dribbling cooly over your clit and along the broken seam he fucks. Instinctually, your hips buck up for it -for more. Thighs clamping around his neck and throat bobbing with a trapped moan.

A practically inaudible yadyyee manages to break past your gag, Jimmy snickers as you crow louder aaatyyyy as you seize around and below him. Eyes flying open and nails scratching up to reopen silvery scars on his arms as you nearly choke on your own slick panties.

“And is this the part when I call you ‘baby’?” he draws a thumb beneath your shiny lip, spit webbing your skin together, “Whore,” is what he chooses instead, “Cumming like the pretty slut I knew you were.”

And just like the slut he knew you were the second he saw you, you grind into his pistoning. Tears caking your lashes and cheeks flaming hot, your body still caves to any attention it’s given.

He knew it the second you were introduced to him. In a spaghetti strap and short shorts with bleached bangs. Dressed like every other little pornstar in the making. Hellbent on catching as many eyes as possible just to rip it away like he was some yippy puppy content to be played with and walked and given little treats. Maybe your dad was, but Jimmy never had that paternal instinct.

Jimmy just wanted to defile you.

And now you live under the same roof: you’re all his.

Last minute, Jimmy slides out easier than he went in and beats his cock into your pubes. Rivulets of your wetness roll down the curve of your ass with nothing to plug you up, sheets darkening beneath you.

Tugging your panties out so hard he nearly knocks out a tooth, Jimmy balls them again and licks up the drool from your chin. Knuckles catching your overstimulated clit as he frantically jerks off, hips cracking forward until your pelvis is streaked in thick white ropes.

Pitchy and broken you wail, “Daddy…!”

Jimmy could’ve cackled in your face, if not for the sound of metal clicking over his shoulder.

And maybe the sight before him -Curly in the doorway, clutching the brass knob hard enough for his knuckles to whiten- could’ve been terrifying. Men kill other men for touching their daughters, after all. But all that intimidation flies out your window, decorated with the daintiest peach curtains, as soon as Jimmy spots the tent in Curly’s boxers.

Curly reads the electric glint in his old friend’s eyes. Something bright and livelier than he’s seen from the man in a long while.

Something that makes him feel relieved he doesn’t have to keep the medicine cabinet locked.

Something that says: I know why your wife left you.

*** ***

[A Side: Grant Curly]

“It’s late, Grant…”

“I told you not to call me that.”

An eye roll is the last thing he wants to see. He scowls, drunkenly, and shoves his head into his hands with all the indignity of a child.

“You really think drinking makes you easier to talk to? It’s no wonder you make her so…”

“So what?”

The stilted silence preceding a sigh tells him the what he needs to know. Unhappiness permeates the house now. Having it all pinned on him feels so fucking unfair, so fucking untrue.

“You know what,” another sigh, this time more playful -more throaty and evidently annoyed, “Daddy.”

“I thought marriages didn’t fall apart until at least the fifth year…” he pouts up at you, again with all the righteousness of a toddler.

You smack his arm, “You guys have been dating longer, anyway. Besides, you kinda knew it wasn’t gonna work out, right?”

“I thought we’d be okay.”

Two hands settle on either of his shoulders. Thumbs pressing into the knotted muscle between his shoulder blades and up toward his stiff neck. Pulling tense flesh until he’s all malleable and soft again.

Curly groans, pleased, and leans into your touch. Laying his head against the back of the couch to stare up at you. A lopsided smile gracing his lips as he confesses with whiskey-slick lips,

“You’re a blessing, sweetheart.”

You grace him with one of those humble, tight-lipped grins that make him all gooey in the center. A paternal feeling, he’s sure.

Whenever your mother upsets him, you’re there.

More things make Curly want to kill himself than they don’t these days. He has the sick urge to fellate a gun after most minor inconveniences, and suddenly the only way he can feel true joy is when someone half his age is fawning over him. It should be another reason he wants to die, but it isn’t. You could never be.

He places a thick hand on yours and grins, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Looping both arms around his neck, you settle your heated cheek over the back of Curly’s head and squeeze. Flushing your breasts against his back with a sugary whisper, “Probably die miserable.”

“Probably,” he reaches up to squeeze your wrist.

Knowledge would be him pushing you off right now. Wisdom would be kicking you out of his house. But that ripe, sweating instinct makes him encourage you to slither over the back of the couch.

He pulls at your cropped sweater, laughing in your flustered face as you giggle. Legs wild before you’re slipping into his lap, thighs spreading yours apart with his hands on your hips. Thumbs scarring up your bare ribs.

“How are you so like her, but so different?” he wonders aloud.

“I dunno…” you shrug off shyly. Hips ticking against his.

“Mhmm,” he lets you and leans back, eyes fluttering shut as warmth eats him from both directions. Your body is sweet while the alcohol is savory. Both ways, he’s treated with nothing but love.

Then there’s your lips on his cheek, he smiles into it. Turns his head just to kiss the air above your own cheek as he sighs,

“Thank you, baby.”

“Daddy,” your hips cant down harder and now he has to plant both feet firmly in the ground to keep from thrusting up. That would just be inappropriate, right? But no more inappropriate than what you utter next, “Can I suck you off?”

His eyes peel open one at a time. Bloodshot. Confused, “Huh?”

“I know Mom doesn’t,” you grind down on him again. The material of your oversized sleep shirt riding up. Nothing but pink lace panties greet him. Damp and sticking to his shorts, “But I really want to…”

“Uhh,” maybe if you could let him think for a second, he’d have replied better. Maybe if you could stop rubbing that wet cunt on him for even one breath, he could’ve given you the emphatic NO you deserved. But you didn’t, so he didn’t.

Instead, he just sat you on the floor and waved with one hand while the other came up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “Fine, fine, yes.”

Already, the carpet burns your knees. But you rock forward and unclink his buttons.

Without technique, but eager and hungry: your mouth sinks onto his cock. Feeling it twitch and thicken on your tongue as you whine. Hollowing your cheeks with both hands burying manicured nails into his meaty thighs. Noisily slurping the spit dribbling past your gaping lips.

Sucking more than you can handle, trying to impress Grant by tickling your nose with his wiry gold pubes just makes you gag. An abrupt gush of thick slobber waxing his pelvis.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, throwing his head back with bending brows, “Be careful, honey, don’t hurt yourself…”

Despite himself, he’s knotting hand at the back of your head. Not-so-subtly pushing your forehead against his abs.

Curly cannot verbally explain or comprehend his relationship with you in labels, the guilt just eats him up.

The comfort of a stepdaughter should be non-existent -or at the least temporary, but you’re still here. You love him and he adores you. He has no strength to beat you away.

*** he really should just die ***

Little under a year spins by before his phone rings, interrupting the unquestioned domesticity.

You caught bits of that call while perched on the kitchen counter. Bare legs left to swing while Curly stirred creamer into his coffee. His old Pony Express shirt swamped over you. A girl’s voice blisters out from the other side. You glare at the speaker in juvenile jealousy despite how displeased Curly seems to be listening to her.

Occasionally he’ll nod, no matter how ridiculous the notion is given you’re the only one looking. Jaw popping. Fingers tapping.

“But he’s alive?” is the first thing of substance he says.

Curly is Jimmy Zare’s emergency contact because Jimmy never had a Misses or a Senior to count on. Not even the highly inappropriate relationship with a young girl to lean on.

You assume that is all connected to the phone call that suddenly has him all serious.

“Okay. I’ll be out there soon,” he nods again, making you want to rip his head off it’s so cute how stupid he is sometimes, “He can stay with me… I’ll be sure.”

He doesn’t look your way after hanging up. Instead, he spares a few minutes blankly staring into the cabinets.

Curly thinks Jimmy is like the sun. Big and angry and burning with barely contained passion. Making Curly mercury: small and burnt and the first to be swallowed when Jimmy inevitably blows up.

It’s so cute how stupid he is sometimes.

“Grant?” you murmur, head tilting.

He finally satisfies your need for attention. Eyes widening as if he spontaneously forgot and then remembered who he’s looking at. He smiles tightly and pats your knee like he’s trying to comfort a child after a lost softball game,

He even speaks to you like one.

“Uncle Jimmy’s staying with us for a bit,” before you can ask anything more, he turns away toward the front door, “Try not to fight with him.”

“Eugh… He’s weird!” you protest, “Can’t he stay at a hotel?!”

Curly pokes his head out and shakes it, disappointed, at you, “He’s staying with us,” then disappears to announce, “I’m going to pick him up! Be dressed when we get back!”

You wait until he’s slammed the front door behind him before muttering, “I am dressed.”

Uncle Jimmy is the type of person men shouldn’t trust their daughters with, so maybe this is a step forward. Somewhere in the knotted affair your life became, a gleaming light assures you this means Grant has his eyes on a new Mrs. Curly.

It’s so cute how stupid step-daughters are sometimes.

@toxycodone / @maniacpixiedreamboy + @xyfanficarchive + @m-carriaga2021 + @reniverse 

[brooklyncircus]

Here's another one-shot dedicated to you, my reader 𖹭.

This Christmas was very special for Suguru Geto because it was the first one he shared with the two girls.

His girls.

Mimiko and Nanako.

And although Suguru Geto was still, in many ways, just a teenager, that didn’t stop him from trying his best to make sure both girls felt loved on such a special occasion.

Yes, he might have been a cult leader, a psychopath, and an unhinged genocidal maniac who despised humans, calling them "monkeys"... but when it came to those two, he was a completely different person.

In some ways, he was even their father figure. Or perhaps their only family. He had cared for and protected them from the start, offering them the best he could and vowing to keep doing so.

"Everything for my girls," he thought as his fingers stuck together from handling the Christmas tape.

If anyone peeked through the window, they’d see that unmistakable Christmas spirit everywhere. And how could you blame them? He liked Christmas too—he used to spend it with Shoko and...

Satoru.

He shook his head, deciding it was better to focus on the task at hand rather than dwell on foolish thoughts of the past. Or the people he had left behind.

He was a new person now, he told himself, smudging his fingertips with red and green markers as he tried to write a letter to the girls, pretending to be Father Christmas.

A different person, he thought again, as he stuck out his tongue and bit it slightly in intense concentration, sketching a plump Santa in his sleigh with reindeer, a sack of presents, and the iconic "Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!" emblazoned in the night sky.

He doubted someone like Satoru would even recognise the shadow of the old Suguru—the boy who thought himself invincible, simply because the other one was always by his side.

Frowning, he took the letter in his hands, deciding it would look better with a touch of glitter.

"Mimiko and Nanako will love it more if it sparkles. They adore glitter," he mused, focused like a mama bear doing everything possible for her cubs.

Suguru was sure the girls had jars of glitter in various colours stashed somewhere.

“I’ve observed your behaviour all year and can confidently say that you, Mimiko and Nanako, have been two very good girls. That’s why these presents are for each of you!

Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!

Love, Santa.

P.S. The cookies were delicious, and so was the glass of cold milk—thank you very much! The reindeer are also grateful for your kindness in leaving carrots and water. That was very thoughtful of you.

Thank you, and see you next year!”

Once everything was ready, Suguru sighed, ran a hand over his forehead, and sneezed after inhaling some glitter. He was sweating and didn’t know why. Adrenaline, he supposed, as he arranged the gifts under the Christmas tree. When he finished, he took three steps back to admire his masterpiece.

"The girls are going to love it," he thought, nodding with his hands on his hips, gazing at the product of his effort and care with deep pride.

But he didn’t linger for long; he needed to get to bed before they caught him standing—very suspiciously—by the tree with crumbs from the cookies (meant for someone else) at the corner of his mouth.

Before heading to bed, he checked on the girls and found them sprawled out and dishevelled. Nanako’s blankets were on the floor, and Mimiko had somehow turned around in her sleep, her head now resting at the foot of the bed.

With a faint smile, he tucked them both in, kissed their foreheads, and made sure their favourite stuffed animals were snug beside them.

The next morning, Suguru woke to the sound of their joyful screams, their little footsteps approaching his room. Their laughter and cries of, "Santa came! Santa came!" melted his heart a little.

They burst through the door without knocking, leaping onto him, both brimming with excitement. Their bright eyes and beaming smiles were all the confirmation Suguru needed that he had done a good job.

“Is it Christmas already?” he asked, feigning confusion as though he’d just woken up.

Nanako giggled and nodded enthusiastically. “It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas! Santa came, Sugu! Santa came!” she repeated, hugging him tightly in her excitement.

Mimiko, on the other side, was about to burst with energy. She looked up at the ceiling, thumped her chest like a little gorilla, and bellowed, “IT’S CHRISTMAAAS!”

“IT’S CHRISTMAAAS!” he echoed, grinning as he got out of bed, the girls running after him.

As they darted to the tree, grabbing their presents and the letter, Geto sat cross-legged on the floor, arms open in a fatherly embrace. They eagerly leapt into his lap, Nanako clutching the letter while Suguru stroked her hair, and Mimiko snuggled against his chest, tears in her eyes.

After all, it was the first time they had celebrated Christmas in a loving home... with him.

When they opened their gifts and he saw their little faces light up with joy, Suguru made a promise to himself.

He vowed to protect those girls with his life.

For Nanako’s smile, for Mimiko’s tears. He vowed it as they hugged by the tree, wrapping paper scattered on the floor, cookie crumbs still fresh on the plate, carols playing softly, and garlands decorating the walls.

Because they weren’t just any girls. No.

They were his girls.

His Mimiko. His Nanako. His daughters.

And nothing, ever, would change that.

Nothing.

[bladespark]

TIME FOR MORE TROODONTIDS!

(From Wikipedia. Lativenatrix, which is a troodontid species similar in size to how I picture mine. The largest females might be a bit larger than this, and the smallest males considerably smaller, though.)

So obviously this species of mine isn't one known to science (we would definitely hear the excited screaming from space if somebody discovered an extraordinarily big-brained theropod with flexible shoulders and wrists, lol.) and there's a reason for that! I wanted this to be something that could exist in theory, and I also was inspired by birds of paradise, so these guys live on a tropical island that is covered with jungle.

For those who don’t know, tropical rain forests are notoriously bad for fossilization. The soil is acidic, thus any bones that aren’t eaten by scavengers will be eaten by the jungle itself. Animals may fossilize in lakes or in ocean lagoons bordering such forests, but the forests themselves leave no traces of their inhabitants behind. This means that while there were doubtless countless prehistoric creatures of all kinds living in Earth’s tropical rain forests, we know very little about them. They almost certainly consisted of species related to those found in other climates. They had to have filled ecological niches similar to rain forest animals today. Beyond that we can only speculate.

My Troodontid People share their jungle with early birds, early mammals, lizards, crocodilians, and of course other dinosaurs, some much like the ones we know, but the largest, most famous types such as sauropods or ceratopsians all probably on the smaller side, island/jungle dwarfism being a thing. There are no T-rexes or allosaurs, though, the troodontids are the biggest predators present.

They don’t use stone tools much. Their large volcanic island home has obsidian, but unlike humans they have claws and teeth that serve for cutting, so there’s less need for them to look to stones. They’re smart enough to pick one up to crack a difficult nut, or to use a flake of obsidian to carve on bone that’s harder than their own claws, but that’s about the extent of it. Their hands, wrists, and shoulders are more mobile and flexible than a typical troodontid’s, but are still less dexterous than humans, due to not having opposable thumbs, and also due to having their primary feathers anchored to their middle finger, which doesn’t prevent it from bending, but does mean that any motion it makes comes with the feathers moving too. (Amusingly this means that while doing delicate work they probably have a “flipping off” posture, where they keep the middle finger extended and rely mostly on the two side fingers.)

(Pictured here: the tin-foil cores of the head, hands, and feet for a troodontid sculpture/art doll I'm working on. Including two hands with the "flipping off" posture.)

Their main tool-use centers around weaving, from making giant nest houses to weaving leaf-fiber mats that they use as rugs, wall-covers, and canvases. They also make rope. They weave with their teeth and feet just as much as with their hands, though, especially when manipulating the larger vines and branches they work into their homes.

Their language is mostly signed, or danced, rather than spoken. It developed from the kind of “mating dance” and other communicative gestures and body language common to birds the world over, but especially common to tropical birds of paradise. They use sounds mostly for additional color, emotion, or emphasis.

(Here's one VERY tropical boy, who is even fancier and more elaborate than most male troodontids, because this is the god Dance, the patron of both language and performance. Drawn by @sombertide-0 )

Like many modern birds, and almost certainly many dinosaurs, they are sexually dimorphic, with the females being larger and the males being smaller. Here too I took inspiration from birds of paradise, so the males are brightly colored and adorned with extra decorative plumage, while the females are in simple, plain brown, cream, white, or black. In birds of paradise the females do most of the work getting food for the chicks, and the troodontid females do all the hunting, bringing back meat for their villages, but there is some evidence that troodontids were omnivores, not strict carnivores, so I’ve included a “gathering” role as well, filled by the males, who would also be in charge of fires and cooking. The troodontids would have no trouble with raw meat, unlike us small-toothed humans, but like say dogs, who are omnivores with a carnivorous background, they probably would benefit greatly from roots and other starchy foods being cooked first.

Both sexes incubate eggs and help raise chicks, with family being built around an egg-laying female matriarch with her lovers and children, and a village generally consisting of an older matriarch, her female descendants, and their lovers and children. Males tend to move between villages on reaching adulthood, to avoid incest. What we might consider polyamorous and homosexual relationships are also common, especially in the “off” season when females aren’t fertile. Basically there’s a distinction between in-season egg-mating, which of course is always heterosexual, biology being as it is, and out-of-season fun-mating, both of which are also distinct from life-long pair-bonded romance, and it’s completely normal for any given troodontid to have partners of all sorts overlapping, though romantic pair-bonding is most often restricted to a literal pair. Trios and more aren’t unheard of, though. (This is also reflected in modern bird behavior. Vultures, for example, often have life-bonded trios, that behave as true triangles, usually with two males who both mate with their chosen female but also with each other.) They are aware of intersex people and have a concept of third-gender, which is generally seen as “both”, with intersex persons free to mix masculine and feminine village roles as they choose, though there is some pressure towards matching what one’s adult breeding plumage suggests, and how much leeway any individual has to choose a gender identity regardless of birth varies from village to village. The rarer bilateral gynandromoph individual (look it up, it’s neat!) is considered sacred in all villages.

The males are the primary “delicate” weavers, and in addition to making the baskets their food would be hauled and stored in, would also make and paint more artistic weavings. And, of course, they’re the most enthusiastic dancers, artistically elaborating the gestures of their language into full-on performances. Singing, for them, is hardly known, but dancing is their highest art-form, a mixture of theater and poetry that is the center of every important ritual occasion.

The subject of ritual, of course, brings us to the gods, and to Death, the main character in my story, but I'll continue that another day!

Troodontid Worldbuilding Time, GO!

SO, I am working on a story that involves a made-up species of troodontids with human-level intelligence. They have villages, culture, and most importantly for the story, religion. Except it's not "faith-based" because their gods are real and walk among them on a daily basis. The story itself, in fact, follows Death, imagined as the Greek Thanatos, but having an origin far, far older than "ancient" Greece.

But before I get into gods, weaving, dancing and everything else that went into this setting, we have to go back to the start and ask "What is a troodontid?"

This is. Sort of. It's complicated. "Troodon" is a weird thing because the species name was based on the find of a single tooth, which...that doesn't work terribly well, does it? Troodontid teeth are distinct enough to make knowing the group that tooth belongs to pretty easy, but we don't know anything else about the original, except it must have been related to the rest.

That said, some creatures in the broader group that are lumped together as "troodintids" are VERY well described, with lots of extremely complete fossils. Some of the most complete anywhere, in fact, because some of them have feathers so well preserved that we know what color they were!

Overall Troodontids are smallish, feathery dinosaurs in the larger manoraptoran group. Some were absolutely tiny and probably flighted, including some that were four-winged like microraptor, though it's not a troodontid. Some others were pretty big and definitely couldn't fly. The largest known is Lativenatrix, which was similar in size to Utahraptor.

They had a "killing claw" like velociraptors, but were more slender, and built for speed more than strength. They were potentially omnivorious, too!

Also they have a better brain to body ratio than the supposedly "intelligent" raptors.

Yup. If we're going just by brain percentage, troodontids were the geniuses of the dinosaur world.

Which isn't saying much, they have a brain to body ratio that's hovering around the low end of modern birds. If you know birds, you know many of them are not so bright.

But birds are interesting, because their intelligence isn't as closely linked to brain size as it is with us mammals. In fact there's not a huge difference between something as smart as say a raven and something as dumb as say an eagle. (Oh man, guys, eagles are so dumb. I've worked a little bit with birds of prey, and none of them are taking home any prizes for intellect, they are the epitome of bird-brained.)

That opens up some interesting possibilities, though. If troodontids had an intelligence similar to ravens, then it wouldn't take much of a brain boost to get them up to something closer to human.

And thus we have my Troodontid People, illustration above by @sombertide-0. A "what if a theropod dinosaur really was as smart as Jurassic Park raptors seem to be, and what would their culture and society be like?" thought experiment centered especially around their relationship with their gods.

I'll stop here for today, but there's SO MUCH MORE.

[bi-bi-buckleys]

I’m meant to be working but all I can think of is: Buck really said “I’m an ally” whilst on a whole date with another man if that’s not bisexual culture then I don’t know what is I love him your honor. My thoughts and prayers and condolences to everyone else whose productivity is suffering this Thursday.

[dreamyintersexouppy]

transmascs stop pretending that transfems are untrustworthy sources for transfeminism challenge impos- fuck i didn't even finish and you already complained about our terminology

[inkedhorror]

oh when did that happen...

[cuteniarose]

It’s almost 6 a.m and I can’t sleep because I’m being plagued by thoughts of The Latest OC

[satoruan]

FRIENDS WHO PLAY TOGETHER STAY TOGETHER ! ! — ARCANE

( tw ) f!reader. FF pairings. modern AU! masterbation. fingering. squirting. cunillings. dry humping. reader is kinda possessive in Vi’s. some yearning.

featuring. Violet, Caitlyn Kiramman & Mel Madarda

authors note. When you off that honey packet and ur home girl the only one in vicinity. Mel is so 🤭 I can’t she my type to a teeee. Anyways I’m about to go watch Act 2 WISH ME LUCK IM SCARED. Also idk how I feel about Kaits part I could do better 😔

VIOLET 

You and Vi were at another one of your friends' sleepovers. You didn't wanna come, you wanted to spend the Saturday just the two of you, alone. You hated sharing her attention, she was your best friend. You were each other's number one, why did you need other friends when you two were each other's everything. It was late now, almost everyone was sleeping or about to fall asleep when Vi crawled between the bodies of people to where you were laying. You didn’t notice until you felt the familiar embrace of her against your back. Despite yourself, you felt yourself relaxing against her body.  

“Are you still mad at me?” she whispered into your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your bare shoulder. “You know my favorite person. You have nothing to worry about.”  

“Yeah, whatever.” You grumbled. You weren't truly mad anymore but you knew what came next, what Vi did to reassure you that you were special to her. Her only best friend. You weren’t surprised when her hips rocked into your ass, when she pressed her tits against your back nor when her hand traveled underneath your oversized sleep shirt and cupped your breast. 

“Vi…” You sighed nuzzling into the arm underneath your head. She tightened her grip on your breast and rocked her hips into you. You push back harder and soon enough you guys find a rhythm. Your ass pushing down on her hips when she grinds up into you. Her callused palm grazes your nipple and you whine softly. She whimpers into your shoulder, finger going to your nipple when she pulls and twists. You wish her mouth was on you, you wish your mouth was on her. You turn your head to her “I love you the most. My favorite forever.”  

You feel her smile into your shoulder. “You're so beautiful, you know that?” translation: I love you too. 

MEL MEDARDA 

You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend’s tongue was inside of you. Licking you. Her lips were sucking on your clit, her teeth were biting your pussy lips. You could hear how wet you were—you could feel yourself leaking all over her face. “Mel!” You scream out into the dark room before slamming your hands over your own mouth. You don’t want anyone to see you—you don’t want her mother to see you, what a scene she would make. Seeing her daughter nose deep into her childhood best friend. Mel pulls her mouth off your clit with an embarrassingly loud pop. “Do you feel that? This is how you’re supposed to eat pussy darling.” She smiles when you just nod. Afraid that if you remove your hands from your mouth, you might confess something you don’t want.  

Plus, this was just a favor, strictly platonic, you were just friends. That’s why she was eating you out in the first place—you wanted to finally dip your toe into the dating scene but you were scared because you were inexperienced, you didn’t wanna leave your future partners disappointed in your nonexistence skills. And that’s where your best friend came in. Where you didn’t know anything about sex, she knew what felt like everything. Though you never saw her with anyone, she talked like she knew the ins and outs of men and women and she offered to teach you.  

“Now after you use your mouth and get them wet you wanna bring in your fingers, like this.” Mel grabs one of your thighs and pushes it down, giving her a better view of your dripping pussy before using her free hand and pushing a slender finger into you. You gasp. “I know you’ve fingered yourself before sweets, how many fingers have you shoved into this pretty pussy?” 

You whimper, hesitantly removing your hands. “T-two Melly.” You answer bashfully, using the nickname you gave her when you were children. She hums and adds another. You bite your lip, lower abdomen clenching when she curls them into your spongy g-spot. 

“Now pay attention to me alright?” She leans down to place a kiss on your pubs, leaving a trail of light kisses until she reaches your clit. She moves her hand out of you and a fast pace, fingers curling when she knuckles deep. You moan at the feeling of her hand pounding into you.  

She gives your clit a few kitten lips before wrapping her full lips around the swollen area. She bits hard enough for you to wince before she starts sucking. You feel yourself coming apart on her face before you can stop yourself. She hurriedly removes her fingers, mouth sucking you even harder when you feel liquid gush out of you. You grab the back of her head and scream. You can’t stop it, you don’t want to. You throw your thigh over her head and curl your foot into her back, still riding the high. When your pussy stops shooting the mysterious liquid out Mel’s fingers find themselves back inside, four this time. 

You feel tears collecting in the corner of your eyes, as she finger-fucks you. Mel pops back off your abused clit to whisper praises, good girl, you're doing so good, look at how well you take me, you feel heavenly, and when she goes back to playing with your clit you know you don’t want anyone to fuck you unless it’s her. Maybe you can ask her to teach you how to give hickeys next. 

CAITYLYN KIRAMMAN 

You were horny. Cait was horny. You both kept glancing at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, sussing out what the other was thinking. The movie you guys were watching was a rating away from being straight porn. When it was over you, both decided to call it a night. It was late she said. You guys had class tomorrow you said. When the lights turned off, you both said goodnight and laid down in your shared bed. You two were so close and loved being near each other that on the first day of the semester you pushed your twin beds together. Oh, how you were regretting that idea now. All you wanted to do was fuck yourself. You knew you weren’t going to fall asleep without an orgasm and so after twenty minutes when you thought Cait was asleep, you found your hand traveling into your boy shorts. You sighed in relief when your fingers grazed your throbbing clit. You rubbed it for a few seconds before shoving two fingers into yourself. 

That relief was short-lived when you heard a breathy moan that didn’t come from you. You tensed up and stopped. When you didn't hear anything—maybe she was making those noise in her sleep—you slowly started to move your fingers in and out, palm rubbing against your clit. You bite your lip to stifle a moan and turn onto your back. You could barely move your fingers in and out lying on your side. You part your legs and moan when you finally hit your G-spot. You're so horny but your imagination isn't cutting it. Opening your eyes you turn your head to find the outline of your best friend who was the star in some of your fantasies, her hourglass figure would for sure spark a fantasy. When your eyes adjust to the dark you're shocked to see Cait staring back at you, her blanket pooling at her hips when you could see her hand abruptly stop moving. Your Cait was masturbating too, in the same bed as you. A grin spreads along your face. 

“I-I’m not—”  

“I am.” You whisper, pushing your blanket off you. Her eyes immediately latch onto where your fingers are slowly pushing in and out. Your other hand comes up to your tank top where you push your shirt down. Your breasts spill out. Cait’s face turns into a tomato, eyes widening even more than they already are. She doesn't remove her gaze from your breasts when she starts fingering herself again. You watch her mouth part into a small O and her eyes roll to the back of her head. You imagine what she looks like riding your face and start to speed up. Your other hand twisting your nipples.  

“I-m gonna..” Cait whimper and spasms for a few seconds. You moan at the look on her face, so pleased with herself, and soon enough you're squeezing your eyes and coming too.  

[eyesonlybutterflies]

Let me show you

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘺𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘏𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: experienced!Heeseung x inexperiencedf!reader

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 5.0k

𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: smut, fuckboy!Heeseung, swearing, reader in denial of her feelings for Hee, reader also kind of oblivious, Heeseung is DOWN BADDD, jealousy if you look close enough, Heeseung is still a sweatheart, pet names (baby, darling, etc.), (neck) kissing, grinding/dry humping, very slight restraints, boob sucking, hair pulling, teasing, big dick Heeseung, oral (m and f receiving), praise, face painting, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare w gentleman!Heeseung, lmk if I missed anything

18+ 𝓜𝓝𝓓𝓘!!!

𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭

'She was soo good, y/n. I'm telling you if she even breathes in my direction I'd 100% fuck her again,' Heeseung shamelessy confesses to you. Heeseung and you have been friends since middle school and you're both now well into college. You've finally hit the age and stage where you openly talk about your sex lifes. Well... Heeseung's sex life.

It's not that you're an unattractive woman, in fact most of your female friends praise how amazing you look in every outfit, hype you up when you need it and all in all let you know you're very attractive.

Guys just haven't seemed to notice. Or at least, not many guys. You've been on a date or two, kissed a guy, even made out with someone, but that's it. You've never had sex, never given or received head, fuck you've never even touched a clothed penis.

Hearing all these stories from your friends kills your curious nature, '𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭? 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥?' It's so bad that it's come to the point you're considering asking Heeseung to show you. I mean, he's your friend, you trust him and there are no feelings involved. It'd be a teaching moment for you and just another night for Heeseung.

Eventually you always pushed away that thought. It was just a stupid idea you had when you were horny and you chose Heeseung because he's the most attractive out of all your male friends. The first time had to be with someone you were actually into. Still, for some reason you felt the need to make him aware of your... situation.

'Hey Hee,' You shyly start. 'Mmh?' He says as he's staring at his phone, probably looking through his texts to see who to hook up with next. 'Have you never noticed I don't share my sex stories?' He stops and looks at you, 'Yeah, but I assumed you just didn't feel comfortable sharing.' 'Actually... I, I'm a virgin.'

Heeseung drops his phone in response. His eyebrows are raised and eyes so wide he looks like a deer in headlights, 'What??' 'I know it's embarrassing! I just, UGH!' You scream before grabbing a pillow and screaming into it, not being able to bare the embarrasment and too scared to make eye contact with Heeseung again.

A gentle force takes away the pillow you use to hide your face, Heeseung's face replacing the darkness of the pillow. His eyes soft, empethatic. 'Y/n, are you serious?' 'Yes and it's embarrassing, I don't even know why I told you, just forget it,' You ramble. You only had thoughts of telling Heeseung, not actually expecting you to have the balls to say it, and most certainly not Heeseung getting so close to you after your confession.

It'd have been a lot easier if he had just laughed in your face, whether it was because he didn't believe it or because he can totally understand why. Him just being a couple centimeters away from you was not what you had expected. It switched something inside you. You saw him from a different perspective, literally.

You'd never saw him as anything but your friend. Heeseung who was kind, Heeseung who made fun of you, Heeseung who took care of you when you needed someone. You never read into it too much. Why would you? He never confessed his feelings to you and it seemed like he was thinking of the next woman to fuck whilst still laying in bed with the previous woman.

But now that he's so close, you can almost look into his soul. The playboy facade almost seems to fade right in front of your eyes. However you quickly push it away. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩.

He snaps you out of your thoughts when a hand lands on your cheek, 'Did you hear what I asked you?' You were so in your thoughts you didn't even notice Heeseung asking you a question. 'N-no, sorry.' With a smile, his beautiful smile, he asks again, 'Have you ever kissed before?' 'Oh god yes I have! I'm not 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 inexperienced!'

'Good, a pretty girl like you deserves appreciation.' Your cheeks flush, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺? Heeseung clearly sees your confusion and just laughs. 'You're just fucking with me! You fuckboys always say stupid shit like that!' You push him away, lowkey mad about the fact he'd play with your feelings in such an intimate moment.

Heeseung repositions himself next to you and you quickly grab a pillow to hug, both for you comfort and defense from Heeseung. 'I would never joke about that. Not when it comes to you.' Your head snaps to him, 'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?' 'Oh baby, please don't tell me you're that oblivious?' What??????

'You remember all those late nights where we would watch movies together freshman year of college because you felt homesick? God I can still remember all the songs in Mamma Mia.' 'What does that have to do with this?' 'Do you really think I'd do that with anyone else? I even cancelled bro nights with the boys to spend time with you.' 'But why are you in other women's bed every weekend?' You completely ignore the fact he basically confessed to liking you, only the other women he's been with occupy your mind.

'Because I've been waiting for you.' 'Heeseung what are you even SAYING right now?' You stand up, creating space between you two. Nothing is making sense right now. 'Y/n, I've had feelings for you since the day we met. Those feelings are still very strong, but I never dared telling you about them. I saw the way you were talking with other guys and just assumed you were hooking up, no strings attached with others and you just didn't feel comfortable telling me. So I did the same, but trust me, I wish it was you every time.'

The only thing you can do is throw your hands up to you head. Your mouth is hanging open but nothing is coming out. Everything is slowly starting to make sense. 'Why didn't you say anything?' You finally get out. All Heeseung does is stare at you. He studies your face, your body language, he's studying 𝘺𝘰𝘶. But not in a creepy way, but in a loving way. Like he's been waiting for this moment for so long and it's unfolding even better than he could have ever imagined.

'Heeseung, please talk!' You almost get frustrated, feeling tears in your eyes as you feel both confused, relieved and scared. He stands up, walks over to you and puts his hands on your waist. 'I'm sorry baby,' is all he says before he leans in to kiss you. Only he doesn't close the distance.

'Is this okay, darling?' You nearly melt into his touch as he moves one hand to your cheek and smiles. The kiss starts soft. Initially long and slow touches of your lips turn into more hungry motions as you both realise you're actually kissing each other and this isn't just a dream.

After years of yearning and denial, you're finally kissing.

And it feels good. Heeseung naturally takes the lead, licking your bottom lip as to ask for permission. You grant him that permission immediately, going in to grab his cheeks to prepare yourself for the lightheadedness he's going to give. Because if there's one thing you've learned about Heeseung's stories, it's that he knows how to kiss.

The kiss grows deeper. Heeseung pushes his lips into yours like he's a starved man. His tongue desperately searching for yours and once there's a steady, consistent rythm to your dancing tongues, something clicks in him.

Both his hands travel down to your ass and, without warning, lifts you up. A small shriek escapes out of your mouth ahead of you wrapping your legs around Heeseung. He leads the both of you back onto your bed. He very gently lays you on your back, as if you're made of marble and ready to crack at movement a little too harsh.

You wrap your arms around Heeseung's neck, letting him know you never want to change the scenery. Heeseung is so turned on by how beautiful you look under him, completely his and not wanting anything else that he's starting to moan in your mouth and slowly grind against your crotch. You push him slightly away, looking at him with large eyes, unsure of what to make of this situation.

Heeseung gets the hint and looks at you with concerned eyes, 'Is this too fast, baby?' You shake your head, gulping loudly. 'I've just never done more than making out,' you start, 'I've only kissed and made out with like 3 guys, never anything more.' 'Not even this?' He says as he presses his erection into your heat. You gasp and that's enough confirmation for Heeseung.

'Are you okay with us doing this?' Sweet Heeseung, always making sure you're okay and comfortable ever since the beginning. You nod, 'I actually... kind of want you to be my first.' Noticing his confusion you continue, 'I've been thinking about, you know, this, a lot and if I had to choose someone to do it with, I'd choose you.'

The smile that slowly creeps up Heeseung's lips give you butterflies, and not just in your stomach. 'Really?' He asks in that attractive ass expression, his eyebrow raised, a light smirk and slight sparkly eyes. You nod shyly, biting your lip to prevent yourself from saying something any more stupid. 'Well, baby, I'll make sure you won't regret this.'

Before he can resume the intimate kiss, you still slightly push him away, looking at him with doe-eyes, 'Is this gonna change us?' 'I better fucking hope it will.' The kiss picks back up right where it left off, except that it feels more intimate.

Heeseung's hands start to roam your body, starting at your cheeks, slowly going down and eventually landing on your boobs. He can feel your perky nipples through your shirt and it's making his buldge grow even tighter. 'Off,' he demands and you comply, taking your shirt off swiftly, making your tits bounce.

Sounds of you two kissing has stopped because of Heeseung's newfound focus on your boobs and looking at them in admiration. You get a little timid, never having shown them to a boy before, but as you try to hug yourself to hide them, Heeseung quickly grabs your wrists and firmly press them above your head. 'Don't hide,' he snarls, 'you're too pretty to hide.'

A warm flush spreads over your already burning cheeks. All this praise, action and physical contact making you lightheaded 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥. Your tomato-red face seems to go unnoticed by Heeseung who is too busy slowly feeling your right boob with one of his hands. Not soon after his hot, wet mouth attaching to your left boob.

The sudden contact makes you gasp and your back arches slighty. Heeseung smiles against your chest, loving every second. He sucks on your nipple and as he detaches from it, he faintly lifts your boob with his mouth and makes a pop sound as he releases it again, only for it to bounce back erotically. 'Fuck you're making me rock hard,' he says before promptly going in again.

This time he's making out with your right nipple. He's slowly releasing your hands and repositions his on your waist. Whilst his mouth is busy licking your tits, sucking loudly on your nipples and moaning inbetween your tits, he's slowly grinding against your still-clothed, but slicky wet pussy. 'Baby you feel so good,' breathy sighs escape his mouth, 'I bet you feel so tight.'

One of your hands travel to his hair and holds a harsh grab. You pull his face away from your boobs and see he already has a foggy expression from just your tits. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘵. Never in your years of friendship did you think you'd end up in your bed with your hot friend who looks like he's almost cumming in his pants from just touching your breasts.

As you're pulling him back up towards your lips, a string of moans escape Heeseung's swollen lips. 'What's wrong, Hee?' You ask him with fake concern. 'I need you so bad,' he whines, 'Need to feel your wet pussy tightening around my cock.' You smirk as you let your free hand graze over his body until it lands on his crotch.

You become aware of just how horny he must be. You slowly start to rub his hard-on. Heeseung is absolutely falling apart on top of you. Every brush of a touch feels overwhelming.

'Please keep touching me.' 'Yeah you like it when I do that?' 'Yes, Y/n, and don't fucking stop.' Deep sighs and low moans are exchanged before you signal for him to lay on his back. Heeseung catches on to what you're trying to do as you lift his shirt and unbuckle his pants with the sweetest expression on your face, 'You don't have to do this if you don't want to.' 'I want to, I really do. I've been waiting for so long to do this.' Your excitement alone makes his cock twitch dangerously hard.

Just because you're inexperienced and nervous, doesn't mean you aren't the usual tease towards Heeseung. Very slowly undo his belt and even do him the honour of taking the belt off of his pants. You throw it somewhere in your room, but Heeseung doesn't care what you did with it, he just needs to get his dick out of his restricting boxers. And he will let you know he doesn't like this slow pace.

'Fuck, Y/n, stop doing that and just take it off.' You giggle, but refuse his wish. As slowly as you possibly can you pull just his pants off of him. Heeseung throws his head back as he feels less and less restraint against his dripping cock.

The only piece of clothing remaining from exposing his dick are his boxers, but even with just that you can tell how big he is. Your mouth is slightly agape as you look up at Heeseung's face. When you make eye contact Heeseung's face turns into a big smirk. He gently caresses you cheek, 'You can take it, baby. I know you can.'

Once you've built up all the courage you can, you hook your fingers around his waistband and pull his boxers down. His dick escapes immediately with a soft slap as it hits Heeseung's stomach. His balls and length are twitching from the exposure. It's veiny, very veiny. His tip is a redish pink from how long he's been hard and its slightly covered in pre-cum. He's more lengthy than girthy, but it's still wide enough where you 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 you're gonna have trouble walking the next day.

So mesmerized by his cock, you're only making eye contact with it instead of looking at Heeseung's scrunched up face. After you've stripped him free from his boxers, you slowly start to touch him. First it's a finger to see his penis bounce, then you wrap your entire hand around him, hearing Heeseung take in a sharp breath.

Slow pumps follow, unconsiously leaving your mouth hang open a little and Heeseung doesn't think twice before putting his thumb in your mouth, 'Suck on it.' You start sucking on his thumb, warming up your tongue before taking him in your mouth in a different way. Your pumps start to speed up and you're including his tip into the pumps as well.

When you hit that sensitive spot at the back of his tip just right, the most beautiful moan escapes from Heeseung, 'Your mouth, baby.' 'You think I'm ready?' 'I know you are. You're such a good girl sucking my thumb and jerking me off.' You bite your lip before gradually coming closer to his tip.

You start by licking the top of his tip, looking him deep into his eyes to see how much effect you have on him. A groan escapes his mouth, signalling for you to take more of him, and so you do. You take his entire tip in your mouth and start to swirl your tongue around it, stopping at that same sensitive spot. Moving the flat part of your tongue up and down with still just his tip in your mouth.

'Oh my fucking god,' Heeseung whimpers, 'You're sure you've never done this?' You keep bobbing your head at the same spot until you can feel his tip spasm. Without warning you start to take in 𝘢𝘭𝘭 of him. Surprised by the sudden move, Heeseung grabs your hair and unintentionally thrusts his hips upward, hitting the back of your throat, 'Shit, baby, I'm sorry.'

The words aren't reaching your ears because of the surprising pleasure you got from getting accidentally throatfucked. Something in your brain changes and you start to pick up the pace of your head movement. Heeseung is taken aback by it, but can't do anything about it since you make him feel too good.

Taking him all the way, at a quick tempo and not being used to this length has you gaggingly shamelessly. Saliva is dripping down your chin and tears are starting to form in your eyes. However you ignore all of those things. Seeing just how good you're making Heeseung feel makes you want to go harder, faster, deeper. You want him so deep in your throat, you don't even care if you get a collapsed lung.

Whilst your mouth is bouncing of his rock hard cock, you grab his balls. Massage them lightly and occasionally giving them a lick or slight sucking. 'Right there, darling. Aah shit ah,' is all Heeseung can moan. His eyes strictly on you, but his mind so far away, he's not even sure you're actually doing this to him.

'Fuck I'm gonna cum.' He groans, head thrown back, preparing for the load he's about to release. You're not sure what to do and whether Heeseung likes shooting everything down your throat or painting your face, so you keep your mouth attached to him, sucking him off through his orgasm.

Very soon after you start to feel sharp loads shoot to the back of your throat. You try to not waste a drop of his cum, but fuck he's cumming a lot. When you think he's finally done you detach your mouth from his dick, a mewl escapes Heeseung's mouth by the sudden cold.

To your surprise, he was not done cumming. A few strands of his cum land right on your face, still painting your face. Once Heeseung is back on earth and looks at you he sees you trying to wipe away the remaining cum, 'Stop.' You stop in your tracks and Heeseung sits up straight right in front of you.

One of his hands reach towards your face and his thumb is gently cleaning the spots on your face you hadn't cleaned yet. 'Open your mouth.' You obey and Heeseung puts his thumb back into your mouth, 'Good girl, cleaning up the mess you made.' Heeseung is looking at you with so much fondness, loving the fact you're just as filthy as him.

Without you having much say, Heeseung grabs your waist and makes you switch positions. 'Now show me that pretty pussy,' is all he says before sliding off your bottoms. 'Fuck, Hee, please make me feel good.' 'Don't worry about that, darling,' he gives you a quick wink as he's pulling his top off.

His warm mouth connecting with your clit sends shivers down your spine. He takes his time as he starts licking it, making sure to keep his eyes on you to confirm you're feeling every single movement. The licking slowly starts to turn into sucking as one of his fingers is teasing the walls of your hole, loving the way it's clenching down on nothing.

'Hee, oh my god yes, put it inside.' Heeseung fulfils your wish and his long fingers enter your pussy. A gasp slips out of your mouth and you clench down on him. 'Aww, baby, already too much?' 'N-No! I just, ah shit-' It's mind-boggling just how much power he has with just one finger.

At a slow pace he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, deeper with each time he puts his finger back in your cunt. 'Hee, oh fuck, yes!' Your words slurring the deeper he pumps into you. At some point he's still fucking you with just one finger and all you do is babble, producing more sounds than words. Heeseung fucking loves you like this, so he decides to add another finger to see how you'll react to that.

The second finger enters your already tight pussy and it sends your head spinning. You constrict so tightly around Heeseung, he almost thinks you're cumming, 'Holy shit, this is what just fingers do to you, dear?' 'O-Only- fuck shit- only yours,' you manage to get out.

With the biggest grin on his face he asks, 'Mmh your fingers don't have this effect?' You shake your head. 'Shit, baby, I guess we'll just have to do this more often,' he says before diving back in. This time he takes his fingers out of you and starts tongue-fucking you.

Two hands fly to his hair, trying to pull him away, 'Too much?' You nod. 'Wanna stop?' You shake your head. Heeseung snickers against your core. While he goes back to your hole, trying to push his tongue up to your sweet spot this time, his nose brushes against your clit.

The combination of stimulation has you close. Your cunt grips to Heeseung's tongue, your hands use his hair as support and your thighs start to shake violently. Heeseung continues eating you out even through you closing your legs. His head is now stuck between your inner thighs and dripping wet cunt.

If there's one place he wants to die, it's right here.

'S-shit- gonna cu-cum!' Is the last thing you yelp before a wave of ecstasy flows through you like you've never experienced before. 'Good girl, cum on my face,' Heeseung mumbles against your core whilst still riding you through your high.

'Are you okay, darling?' You nod, mind still in another place. 'Good. Are you ready for my cock now?' A finger enters your hole. Heeseung streches you out, making sure you can still take his girth. 'Your pussy certainly is.' You look at him, he's smirking wide, waiting for your verbal consent before rocking your world.

'Please be gentle,' you say as your mind slowly gets back to earth and realisation hits you that you're really about to lose your virginity to your hot friend, of whom you could only dream of fucking. 'Always, my pretty baby.'

An even darker red blush spreads your cheeks as you push yourself up a little more straight. Heeseung notices what you're trying to do and lifts you up, firm but tender. 'Are you comfortable?' 'Yeah, are you?' Your innocent, sweet, but still dazed eyes makes Heeseung's cock twitch so hard, he has to physically restrain himself from slamming his cock deep in your pussy right now.

'Y/n, baby, I'm always comfortable with you. If you're feeling any doubt, even if it's really small, tell me. We can do this another time if you're too worn down or are having d-' You interrupt his rambling by crashing your lips onto his.

'Fuck me, Heeseung. I need you.'

That's all Heeseung needs to hear. He lines himself up with your heat, teasing you by grinding against your fold, but not entering your gaping hole. 'Hee, stop playing, fuck me.' You say exasperated.

At a steady pace he slowly enters you. Both of you are gasping. Heeseung's cock larger inside of you than you expected. Heeseung on the other hand has to restrain and repeat to himself to take it slow. He sees how you're struggling taking even a fifth of him, so he can't just slam himself inside you.

After Heeseung has completely dissapeared inside of you, he stops, letting you adjust. 'You look so gorgeous right now.' Your hands shoot up to your face. You're so red you feel like your head is about to detonate. Heeseung caresses your head, smiling from ear to ear. 'Is my pretty girl ready for me to move?' You nod and Heeseung leisurely moves out of you.

Once out of you, he enters again, but this time filling you up a bit quicker. This continues until he's just short from jamming into you. 'You okay, dear?' 'Mmh.' Your face crunches up, hands now placed on Heeseung's back. He dips down to plant a kiss on your cheek, 'You're doing so good, taking me so good.'

'Hee, harder please.' Embarrassment smeared on your face as soon as the words slip out of your mouth. 'You want it harder?' He beams, 'Didn't see you as such a dirty girl, baby.' A moan comes out as Heeseung immediately ups the pressure.

His cock hitting you against your cervix, balls slapping against cunt and heavy breaths escaping Heeseung's mouth. He's such a mess, but he doesn't want to let you know. He doesn't want to let you know how much of an effect you have on him. He usually lasts rounds without cumming, but with you? God he grips the bedsheet beside your head so tight, his knuckles turn white, he's focusing more on not cumming than to pound inside you at a consistent rate.

But when your pussy clenches down hard on him due to hitting a mind-blowing spot inside you, he drops his head in your neck. He's biting his lips hard and grips your waist to stop you from creating more friction. 'Y/n, fuck you're gonna make me cum.' One of your hands glides to his hair. You pull his face up to look you in the eyes. You want to show him how good he's making you feel, since his dick makes you unable to make sentences.

'Hee, good, so fucking good.' 'You like it?' 'Uh-huh.' You bob your head fast. Heeseung's mouth falls open, he knows he's close. You can feel he's close too and you slam your lips together, kissing him fiercly.

Like a bomb, Heeseung explodes. Shots of hot cum hitting you deep in your pussy. Your tongues stop dancing as the only thing exchanging between you two are moans. The warm liquid inside you not only gives a mouth-watering sound, but makes everything feel extra sticky as Heeseung is slowly fucking the cum out of your pussy.

Heeseung pulls back, not just his mouth but his entire body. You don't want to stop. You wrap your legs around Heeseung's waist and your hands around his neck and passionately pull him back in, 'Not done yet, Hee.' Heeseung is surprised by your almost desperate attitude, but fucking loves it.

Sloppy thumps of his cock in your pussy continue. Heeseung ignores the overstimulation. How can he when you look so pretty and fucked out underneath him? So desperate for a climax, completely ignoring Heeseung's struggle to selfishly pursue the best orgasm you've ever had

Briskly, Heeseung repositions himself where he's not laying on top of you, but able to grab your thighs and fuck you hard. And so he does. He slams hard inside you, making sure he's hitting your G-spot. He rams in at a pace that has you gasping, crying and screaming all within 5 seconds. 'You like that, huh?' 'Yes! Heeseung yes!'

As your thighs start to shake and your cunt starts to clench down on him again, Heeseung knows you're gonna have an even better orgasm than before. From the overstimulation still lingering from your previous orgasm to the delicious moans coming from Heeseung's mouth, your whole body feels like it's gonna fall apart.

'Heeseung!' You scream in a high pitch as you're send over the edge. Everything collapses; your legs close tightly around Heeseung's body, your lower body moving up in the air before falling back in the mattress for your back to arch tall, pussy contracting Heeseung's cock so hard he can barely move as it's almost making him cum again, your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth falling open with only moans and variations of Heeseung's naming falling from your lips, your hands latch on Heeseung's back and your nails digging deep into his skin, and sweat dripping down from every inch of your body.

Your head is pushed deep into the pillow with your neck strained. Once you've come back to your senses you see a proud Heeseung looking at you. His eyes shining and a smile sweet like candy. 'Knew my girl could do it.'

He slips out of you and quickly dissapears into the bathroom. Your head is still too hazy to comment something. Heeseung returns with a damp washcloth and starts cleaning you up. No words are exchanged as he cleans everything from you thighs to your face. He gently lifts you up in bridal style and sets you down on the chair at your desk. Before you can ask, Heeseung grabs a new set for everything for your bed.

When he's done he sighs, happy with himself. He grabs you a new pair of underwear and shirt and puts them on for you. You're amazed at how gentleman he is. Almost as if he can read your mind, Heeseung says, 'Only for my princess.'

Smiles are exchanged as he carries you back onto the, now freshly made, bed. You shyly close the distance between the two of you when Heeseung claims his spot next to you. Noticing your hesitation, he takes the initiative and places you on his chest. You hear his steady heartbeat in the comfortable cuddle as you both drift off to sleep.

𝐋𝐢𝐤��𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝! <𝟑

[santoruu]

Syncing My Period Tracker With My Bf (gone wrong) — gojo satoru

cw: smut, ovulation, ovulation sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, clit pinching, cum licking and eating, little bit of anal play, gojo is pussy drunk fr, female reader, all characters are 18+, MDNI, slightly proofread

wc: 0.8k

a/n: thank you guys for 1k! finally wrote something after so long lol.. pls check out my navigation for updates on when new fics will be posted, what's coming soon [series] and [long fics and drabbles], and my current semi-hiatus due to exams! hope you all enjoy this <3

whoever told you that syncing your period tracker with your boyfriend was a good idea was wrong. it was a bad idea to begin with, giving satoru full access to your cycle on his phone.

because the minute he got the notification that your ovulation started, he teleported his ass home.

without even greeting you, he makes his way into your shared bedroom, with you slung over his shoulders. not sparing a single second, he manhandles you onto the bed, forcing you on your hands and knees. tearing off your clothes, his hands grip the fat of your asscheeks, spreading them wide open to the sight of your glistening pussy, while you're lying underneath him confused.

“toru?” you ask, looking behind your shoulder and receiving no reply, your boyfriend busy burying his nose in between your folds. a groan leaving his lips as he takes a big fat sniff of your ovulating pussy, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his skull from your scent.

“you’re ovulating,” is the only response you get before you squeal, his tongue diving in without warning, licking eagerly at your wet folds, drinking in your juices with vigor.

your arms and legs tremble as you try to keep yourself up, arms giving out underneath you as your face falls flat onto the bed, moaning in pleasure as drool ruins your pillow covers.

“toru- toru please-,” you whine, feeling a suck to your clit that has your body thrashing and squirming. his hands gripping the plump of yass as he spreads you open, back in a pretty arch, only shoving his face deeper into your pussy.

feeling his warm tongue leaving your wet pussy to lick at your little puckered hole teasingly, you sob. pussy clenching on nothing, begging him to touch you where you need him the most.

your nails dig into the sheets beneath you, smothering your face into the pillow as you try to swallow and keep in your moans, afraid to wake up the neighbors, but satoru has other plans. tongue curling against your slippery walls, his fingers pinch your engrossed clit whenever you try to muffle your pretty sounds.

wet slurping noise fills the bedroom. satoru's tongue and nose deep in your pussy as he drinks your sweet juices, adams' apple bobbing as he gulps. your pussy tightening with each curl of his skilled tongue as he laps at gummy walls.

"mhmm- oh god-" a choked moan leaving your wobbly drooling lips, knuckles turning white from fisting the sheets tightly. your head buried in your pillow as you try to grind your hips against his face, despite his bruising grip on your ass, thick fingers digging into your cheeks as he spreads you wide open for his eager tongue.

the bed creaks slightly as satoru grinds his hips against the mattress, trying to reach his peak with you. cock straining against his uniform, precum leaking under his boxers, making a wet patch against them as he eats you out, his voice muffled between your thighs as he devours his meal.

hands fondling your asscheeks, a finger sneaks its way inside, stretching your tights walls as he laps at your juices, pulling out a silent scream from your shaky lips. your abdomen tightens as he abuses your poor sweet spot, lips making their way further down to wrap around your sensitive clit, while you desperately try to run away from the overwhelming pleasure.

"fuck baby-" he groans, forcing you to stay still as he abuses your poor cunt, "stop moving." you think you're finally hallucinating, your ears betraying you as you hear him nearly whine, begging you to stop moving, to stop depriving him of his sweet desert.

your body trembles as satoru relentlessly pleasures you, his skilled fingers and tongue bringing you closer and closer to the edge. your senses go numb as tears stream down your cheeks, the coil in your belly ready to snap at any moment as orgasm approaches.

"toru- I'm close," you sob, voice shaky and breathing ragged as your eyes flutter shut tightly.

doubling his efforts, his tongue flicks against your swollen clit, finger curling against your spongy wall with each flick of his tongue. his soft, wet lips wrap around your sensitive bud, sucking your clit as pleasure consumes your senses.

the pace of his fingers increases, thrusting up against your sweet spot, and with a final suck to your poor clit, you come undone. your back in a pretty arch as intense waves of pleasure wreck your body. a loud moan escapes your lips as your pussy flutters, coating his fingers with your juices before he sucks them clean, humming at the taste of you, his favourite sweet treat.   

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

[hazemhamada055]

Hello everyone, I hope you are well 🌹🤎

I hope 👏👏 you will look at this story of mine with compassion 🥺🥺

I am Hazem Hamada, a Palestinian man from Gaza. I am 44 years old. I'll tell you my story. Imagine this:-

Suddenly, Saturday morning, it was a morning like any other. But suddenly the ground shook under our feet, and we heard a sound like thunder...and then silence. scary. it's all over! 😱💔 Shells exploded everywhere, the walls of our house collapsed above our heads 🏠💣, and deafening sounds mixed with the screams of my children 😢😢. We crawled from under the rubble with exhausted bodies and terrified hearts, running among the smoke and debris in search of safety 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♀️. Our house, once so full of life, is now a pile of ashes. 💔

Now we live in a small tent in which we do not feel safe or comfortable. We used to live in it before. It has no warmth. We wake up every day to the sounds of dogs and the sounds of strong winds. We feel cold because of the lack of covers or clothes that protected us from the cold. Due to forced displacement, we were unable to take anything. something🌪️👗🌧️

I ask everyone who views this post to help us, even if just a little, to save me and my family from loss 🥺 and I ask you to donate via the link 👇👇 and whoever is unable, please share the post on his pages. Thank you for your humble support ♥️🌹

[h0ttestgrlinm0urgu3]

𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔟𝔬𝔴

𝖍𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

summary [henry let's you play with bows and you get carried away]

warnings [smut, mouth stuff🎀, bimbo~ish ig, no p in v, pet names, soft dom henry🎀]

being the type of girl you were you loved ribbons and bows. they weren't something you indulged in often as a child, growing up in the country and all, but once you got older you feel in love with them.

you'd put them everywhere, in your hair, on your clothes, there's even some on your walls and others tied around stuffed bears.

Henry had recently gotten you these really cute ribbon bow clips and you were currently sitting beside him putting them in his hair. he's not really paying attention to you, he's used to this kind of treatment and just sat scrolling on his phone. you dropped one of the clips from his hair and in to his lap. as you go to reach for it a thought flashes in your mind. 'can I put a bow on your dick?' you ask your boyfriend after retrieving the clip.

you see the way henry freezes and hurriedly say 'not these, like ribbon' you clear up. he lets out a breath and laugh before looking at you 'I was scared for a sec baby' he says tucking a peice of hair behind your ear making you smile. he returns your smile and leans in for a kiss. 'of course I'll let my pretty girl dress me up' henry says sitting back up with the clips still in his hair.

so excited you jump up and let out a squeal 'omg yay' you scream about to go into you and Henry's shared room for some ribbon. turning to him before you go saying 'don't get hard' which earns you an eye roll as you leave 'you wanna do it or not' he mumbles as your walking but you hear.

in the room your trying to figure out what color ribbon you wanted. you got it down to pink and purple, so you bring them out to henry. 'which one do you want?' you question, you sit beside him on the couch, getting comfortable with your upper half mostly on his lap. 'whatever matches my hair' he says as he scrolls through something.

you go with the pink since he had pink in his hair. unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out your really happy to see the he wasn't hard. it might sound odd but you liked playing with his soft cock. cutting the ribbon to length before throwing everything on to the floor. you start to tie the ribbon at the base of his dick, humming to yourself as henry continued on his phone, you could care less.

looking down at the pretty pink bow you made your so proud in your self. you let out a giggle in excitement and notice the way Henry's cock twitched when you laughed. your mouth begin to water. trying something else you lightly blow making it twitch again.

you mouth became the ocean and you desperatly needed to taste him. opening your mouth and letting droll drip onto the head of his cock before lowering your head and licking it up. 'ohh fuck baby' henry moans out at the unexpected pleasure, finally placing his attention on you.

you take the tip of this cock in your mouth savering the taste of him. opening your mouth wider you take his full soft length in. feeling the bow brush against your lips. feeling him swell you come up for air letting out a little whine at the fact that this is the first time he's ever fully fit in your mouth, and it's because hes never let you suck it soft. and it's not gonna last much longer, but you'll enjoy having him in your mouth either way.

looking up to meet his gaze he grips your jaw and squeezes your cheecks together. sticking out your tounge he roughly brings you up for a sloppy kiss, gripping the back of your scalp. he breaks the kiss to leave kisses all over your face before letting you go back down to his cock, which is now fully hard.

bow intact.

you lick from the base to the tip repetadly. bringing your focus more to the head of his cock you bring one hand to the base and the other to his balls. 'fuck baby you know daddy likes that' he moans out as his hips buck forcing the tip of his cock all the way into your mouth. you gag a little before you adjust to it returning to your pace.

henry looks down to the ungodly display infornt of him. you desperatly sucking his cock, pretty hands playing with his balls with a pretty pink ribbon rapped around his cock, your eyes are watery, the floor beneath you full of droll and pre cum. your looking up to him eyes glossed over moaning every so often telling him just how much you love his cock.

'ahh- fuckk, baby im gonna cum' he moaned out. forcing the rest of his cock into your moth and down your throat henry couldn't hold back any longer. his cum being forced down your throat and falling from the sides of your mouth around his cock getting your bow all dirty. removing him from your mouth with a giggle and a smile so happy that you grew into loving bows.

[a/n: this randomly came to me and I wrote it right away so if it's bad blame it on that. 🎀]

[reignpage]

The Other Man

Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3

Your worst nightmare is avoiding your eyes. 

Still sweating and slightly out of breath from the sprint you made from your home to the hospital, you try to wipe your hands down the material of your jeans, and you’re mortified to find them shaking. 

Is it from adrenaline or from fear? 

When they said they found your husband, alive, and he’s been fixed up all brand new, you thought everything would be fine, that things would go back to normal. Your home will finally stop being so stifling, you won’t burn a hole through your carpet from all the pacing like your friend tried to joke, and you no longer have to hold yourself at night just to stop from hyperventilating.

But when you look at his eyes and see only confusion and a drop of anxiety, you know something’s gone terribly wrong. 

“He suffered trauma to the head and we noticed no signs of it during surgery, so the symptoms only showed up now. We’re sorry we hadn’t been able to warn you ahead of time,” the doctor says. 

Maybe now your hands are shaking from anger. 

You step towards the doctor, the sterile smell of latex gloves and death stinging your nose, and you splutter out, “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with my husband? Why is no one just telling me straight up?”

He flinches. 

They both do. 

You don’t feel bad, can’t feel bad. 

The doctor opens his mouth and he’s explaining, rambling about all sorts of medical terms you don’t know and it’s likely he’s doing it to distract you, or punish you, but you do hear one word. It registers and sends a static ringing through your ears. 

“It would seem your husband has developed retrograde amnesia.”

Amnesia. 

When he finishes, a silence takes over, filling up the room and pressing you to the walls, daring you to suck in a breath. A beat or two passes whilst he wait for either one of you to say something, ask something, anything. But no one does, so he leaves and immediately you wish he stayed. 

“Hi.”

His voice breaks you out of your internal panicking. It has a slight quiver, perhaps from the deep sleep he had been under, or the exhaustion that had built up, the price to pay for saving so many people in one night. The reports said, on the night he disappeared, that there had been many curses, strong ones, gathered in an organised attack, an ambush. They had backed your husband in a corner and pushed him to his limits. 

They did this. 

You try to smile. 

“Hi, baby, how you doing?”

There’s a blush forming across his cheeks and you smile for real, finding his embarrassment adorable, but then it drops just as quick when he clears his throat, as if setting a boundary. 

“So,” he drags out, “you’re my wife, huh?”

What’s the procedure for losing your loved one to an internal injury so bad you feel it cut deep? What’s the etiquette? Because you’re so sure screaming at him to stop playing this cruel joke is probably not a good idea; you already know what the doctors would say.

It would be unwise to push him.

Your steps are hesitant but you push through that invisible force keeping you back. You need to touch him, need to feel that, despite it all, he’s warm and real and breathing — at least one of you has to be. 

He looks up at you from your position beside his bed and watched your hand lift towards his face. He doesn’t move, he steels himself for your sake, you know it, because your husband has always been the kindest, most empathetic man you’ve ever met. 

Then you cradle his slightly cut up cheek and tears stream down before you even know it, a laugh bubbles out and you sob it out. He’s really alive. 

“I’m so happy you came back.”

He smiles, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s still a genuine smile and your heart leaps. If he can smile at you like that even without the pull of the shared memories of his time with you, then surely there’s hope. Because through his dazzling eyes, always dazzling, you believe there’s a huge box of everything he had filed on you, on his love for you, his wishes and desires for for you both. It’s just locked away at the moment, but you’ll find a key. 

You have to. 

“I must have been pretty great to bag a gorgeous woman like you.” 

“The greatest.”

He laughs in surprise. He did that every time you played along, because no one else ever had, not his own family or his friends, and not even himself. 

And the hours pass by with him asking questions and you answering patiently, despite the stab at your chest from every moment he forgot, every special occasion he doesn’t remember, and you both relive the bad times, the terrible times. 

Except he’s going it through for the first time. 

All the nurses and doctors filter in and out, changing this, emptying that, wiping here, walking there, and throwing all sorts of information at you. Eventually, they give you a care pack full of pamphlets filled with numbers and websites for support, letting you know he’s free to leave, but that check-ups will have to be frequent to monitor his progress. 

You can tell he’s getting tired; you don’t blame him, it’s been too much too fast. So you tell him, “Alright, handsome, it’s time to go home.”

He cheers up at that, eagerly packing and hobbling out of the hospital and into your car. The car ride home isn’t quiet like you had dreaded, it’s loud, bustling with more questions and excited remarks. 

“No way. He ate that finger? That’s so funny.”

“Oh, his hair is really that spiky? And she puts up with both of them? Wow.”

“He’s still teaching? That’s great.”

When you pull up to the house at the end of the street, all the lights are off and you feel a little embarrassed that it doesn’t look inviting, and  of course you forgot to clean up the dishes and vacuum the carpet. Maybe you should have gotten balloons and streamers, maybe invited his friends. You know the doctor said don’t overwhelm him, but they’ll definitely come knocking sooner than later. 

That’s how loved your husband is. 

You have a bashful smile when you finally glance up at him, both walking up to the door, and it plummets at the disappointed look on his face. He doesn’t care about the lights, only that the home he had been expecting is the one across the city, the one you had made him move out of years ago so you could live together as a soon to be wedded pair. 

Now, he’ll have to live in your home as a guest, borrowing your cups and plates, and wearing clothes he didn’t buy but the other man did, and then he’ll be sleeping next to you. 

A stranger. 

You gulp the horrified scream down and, with shaky hands, you unlock the door, ignoring the overwhelming feeling that you’re losing an uphill battle, that things will never be the same, and he’ll never love you, not like he did. 

Your husband is loyal to a fault; he won’t leave you, not because he loves you, not because he can’t imagine being anywhere else but here, with you, but because there’s a ring on his left finger that he keeps playing around with like it feels wrong to have it on. 

And the realisation that you don’t care, that you have enough love for the both of you, that you want, need, to have him in any way he’ll let you, creates a dull ache in your stomach.

You don’t try to smile when you turn to him, even when he does. 

All you say is,

“Welcome home, Satoru.”

[willowpains]

paparazzi

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

slightly inspired by that zendaya and tom video iykyk

It was the season 4 premiere of Outer Banks.

Drew and you were arriving together to the event, the car having picked you both from the place you two shared in Charleston for filming seasons.

“It never gets old” you say, resting your head in Drew’s shoulder while fidgeting with his hand.

He chuckles lightly as he looks down at you.

“What do you mean doll?” He asks smiling at you with longing.

You look up to meet his eyes.

“The premieres” you pause. “I love them. And I’m secretly scared that we don’t know if this might be the last” you say, feeling your eyes glaze at the thought.

It was not about the premieres and you knew it.

Drew knew it.

You loved spending time with your best friends, and you were scared that the project that brought you all together one day, could ever end.

He gave you a soft smile while he cradled your face between his hands.

“It’s okay to feel scared” he murmured sweetly. “That’s one of my fears too”.

You furrowed your brows at his words, trying to hold your tears, you didn’t wanna ruin your makeup.

“Really?” You ask smirking up at him.

He nods chuckling at you, while softly grazing your cheeks with his thumb.

“But I am not worried about it” he says looking deep into your eyes. “We’ll keep seeing each other and hanging out no matter what love”.

You nod slowly at his words, smiling softly at him and his sweet words.

“No need to worry about the future” he continues. “Let’s enjoy today and take it one day at a time”.

He smiles and leans into you, pressing his lips softly against yours in a loving and soothing way trying to calm you.

And it worked.

“How many people do you think there’ll be?” You ask him excitedly, changing the subject.

This was a game you two liked to play. Guessing how much fans or people would be there showing for these events. It kept you feeling competitive and gave you reason to tease each other.

“Not many” he said playfully, sticking his tongue out at you.

You smile up at him.

“Hopefully” you say letting out a soft laugh.

You loved meeting fans and attending these events, it made you incredibly happy and motivated to see how many people loved your work.

But they also made you nervous. Big crowds of people screaming, flashing their cameras towards you and wanting to get a glimpse of you made you a bit anxious.

It was getting easier with each event you attended, but the little monster in your brain never truly shut up until you were safely inside, around the people that made you feel at ease.

Drew gave your hand a little squeeze while lifting it up and leaving a soft kiss on the back of it.

“It’s fine doll” he says softly. “I’m here with you” his thumb brushes your cheek soothingly.

You lean into his touch leaving a soft kiss on his palm.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way” you smile up at him.

Your boyfriend smirks down at you.

“I’m very tempted to tell the driver to turn around and drive back to our place” he says teasingly as he leans down to place a soft and slow kiss to your lips.

You feel yourself smile against his lips.

“You’re gonna have to wait, because my glam team wouldn’t be happy if this look didn’t get its moment” you say, as you take his face between your hands, tracing your thumb over his lips.

He smirks at you.

“Oh, I can make sure it gets the attention it deserves” he teases, moving his hands dangerously slow down your waist.

You laugh softly at his words.

“Too late mi amor” you say pecking his lips softly and moving your hands to fix his tie.

Because at that moment, the car comes to a stop, and your door is being opened, revealing screaming fans and paparazzi.

Your boyfriend sights and looks at you while you smile back innocently.

Drew gets out of the car first, waving and smiling at fans, and then turns around offering you his hand, helping you as you step out of the car, motioning and saying hi to everyone around you two.

Someone from your team guides you to the entrance, but you two decide to take a little detour and walk to the side of the street where fans were waiting patiently for the cast to arrive.

He never leaves your side, both of you stuck together taking pics, signing stuff and talking with fans.

“Omg y/n I love you so much!” A girl says excitedly as you near her and her friends. “can we take a selfie?

You smile happily at her.

“Of course!” You say, making a kissy face, watching her screen and seeing how Drew photo bombs from behind.

The girls around you begin to scream and giggle at him as he chuckles looking at the girl holding the phone.

“Nice shirt” he says pointing to the girls shirt, that has a photo of you two together back at poguelandia last year.

She blushes and laughs looking up at Drew after he complimented her shirt.

“I love you two so much!” She says moving her hands to touch her heart.

The both of you eventually switch sides, trying to get to as much fans as you can.

On this side, a girl catches your attention.

“Y/n, thank you for representing latinas in the show!” She screams as you near her, feeling your heart warm at her words.

You pout looking at her with teary eyes.

“You’re gonna make me cry!” You say as you go in for a hug.

The girl embraces you back excitedly.

“Estamos súper orgullosas de todo lo que estás logrando” says another girl next to her, now in Spanish.

You smile at them lovingly.

“Muchas gracias por el apoyo” you tell them clutching your heart.

You continue chatting and taking pics, feeling Drew’s presence looming behind you or a couple of people away from you.

When you reach the end of where fans are standing, there is a group of messily organized press and paparazzi waiting at the entrance of the event for anyone that arrives.

A member of your team tells you it’s time to get going, so you mutter some apologies and wave goodbye to the fans that you were not able to meet properly.

Drew takes your hand in his, as you two follow the crew member from your team to finally get into the event.

As you walk away from fans, suddenly the paparazzi and press that had been somewhat calm, immediately swarm the both of you, to the point that security guards that were waiting at the entrance, near the both of you to help clear the way.

Your boyfriend doesn’t let go of your hand, instead, holds you tighter and keeps looking back to make sure you’re okay.

While you’re making your way to the entrance, you spot a girl in between the mass of paparazzi, trying to get you to sign her poster.

You let go of Drew’s hands slowly, moving to face the girl in front of you.

The paparazzi suddenly swarming and moving around you and the fan.

All the screams and clicking sounds from them didn’t allow you to talk to the girl, so you tried your best to smile sweetly at her while signing her poster, hoping to make it quick, as you felt yourself getting a bit claustrophobic.

Drew was watching all of this go down from where the paparazzi had pushed him.

When he felt your hand leave his, he turned around to see all of the paparazzi and press already crowding around you and the little girl, shouting questions and flashing their cameras at you.

“Y/n you look lovely tonight!” “Y/n you and Drew going strong?” “Who are you wearing tonight y/n?” “Y/n can you tell us anything about the Narnia rumors?”

Drew tried to get closer to you, as he saw you were finishing signing the poster, when he saw one of the reporters shoving his camera a little to close to your face, almost hitting you with it.

His heart raced and his patience ran out.

He immediately got closer, shoving the paparazzi’s that were in his way to get to you, not even sparing to talk to them nicely, as they were already too comfortable violating your personal space.

“Get out the fucking way” he said loudly and a bit too agressive as he pushed the last of them to get to you.

The security guards that were supposed to be escorting you two, tried to gently pull him back to do the job themselves.

“No, no, no” Drew said as he shrugged them off and continued walking until he reached the guy who almost had his camera on your face.

He pushed him away from you in an instant, shoving him aside by pushing his chest away.

“Dude back off” he spitted at the guy while he took your hand between his and started to walk back with you close to him.

“Give her some room!” Security behind him shouted, trying to get the paparazzis off of you two.

You took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze, trying to let your boyfriend know you were okay.

Everything happened too fast you barely had time to react.

Your boyfriend continued walking to the entrance, looking back at you to make sure you were still behind him and not being bothered by the people around you.

As you two stood in front of the entrance, he came to a stop, looking at you and the paparazzi behind you, assessing them.

He moved back to let you in before pausing.

A guy with a camera stood infront of the door blocking it, trying to get a shot of you getting in the event.

Drew looked at him seriously, before, pushing him aside, to finally make space for you to get in.

He gently placed his hand on your waist, guiding you inside before him, while he gave the mass of paparazzi outside one last serious look before getting in behind you.

Finally, inside the event, you let out a breath of relief while you turned around and looked at your boyfriend, who was looking at you with a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked as his eyes wandered all over you, as if assessing you were perfectly fine.

You nodded slowly as you closed the space between you and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Thanks to you” you smiled up at him as you pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He smiled softly in between the kiss, his hands wrapping around your waist immediately.

You felt himself relax against you.

“That was pretty hot you know?” You say cheekily at him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Drew smirks down at you as his thumb draws soft circles on your waist.

“Really?” He chuckles, one hand moving to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

You nod, smiling brightly at him.

“You’re very attractive when you get protective” you say reaching up to peck his lips one more time.

He blushes slightly at your words, looking down to meet your eyes.

You feel his heart beating against your chest.

“Let’s get this over with” he says, taking your hand in his as he starts walking to the carpet. “I wanna take you home already” he says smirking playfully down at you.

*

that video did something to me, and I just couldn’t resist.

a bit of a time jump from the last few parts, but maybe a little hint of all that’s to come between drew and latina actress reader!

if you have any requests, ideas or things you’d like to know feel free to ask<3

taglist

@aariahnaa

[ch-4-eri]

Slut — Abby Anderson.

Best friend!Abby X fem!Reader.

I need help, perhaps. Smut under the cut.

You and your best friend Abby were having a girls night of some sort, she often came by because her dorm is packed and she’d say it’s uncomfortable or whatever.

Accepting any excuse she had you’d allow her to stay over, sharing the bed with her almost every night.

You liked having her around, she was fun and your friendship was the most invasive one there is, at least in your own opinion, you both knew too much about each other.

But would never judge the other.

Especially with Abby being on top of you as you got so needy one night, her fingers pumping in and out of you, your moans echoing in the bedroom, you’d begged her to relieve the tension between your legs.

It’s always when you’re ovulating, it gets bad enough you’re humping every pillow, your fingers, but nothing was ever enough.

And as Abby came over that night, desperate for a place to sleep where it’s comfortable, you were too busy in your own head to just let this one go, her hands were perfect, you couldn’t stop looking at them as you were finally honest about your feelings, desperately wanting something to feed the hunger inside of you.

Abby fucking loved it, she’s always thought you were beautiful, sure she’s straight but it wouldn’t hurt to help a best friend out.

Her fingers deliciously massaged your g spot as you were seeing stars, your mouth hung open as moans escaped your throat without you trying to help it, it’s Abby after all. “Oh sweetheart..” Abby chuckled, allowing you to ride her fingers out, circling your needy hole with her thick fingers, your legs spread against your mattress.

Abby dragged multiple orgasms out of you that night, she refused to stop unless you wanted her to, she went all the way with your time of need, knowing you were too damn shy to go out on a date and get a guy to rearrange your guts, but allowing your girl best friend to do so.

You didn’t get enough, you still wanted so much more and Abby could never be able to say no to you, her mouth was enveloping your cunt as she ate you out, riding her face as her nose hit that one spot that had you screaming and cumming down on her tongue.

Still was not enough, Abby was surprised you could take so much. She always assumed you’d get tired from one go, but oh boy was she wrong.

You’d ride her thigh, her hands on your hips guiding you through the fifth orgasm for the night, your crying and whining was like music to her ears, surely best friends wouldn’t act this way but your friendship was else. And Abby is way too busy shoving her knee into your cunt as you rode her out once again to think about it, your moans were louder than ever.

“Jesus, bunny.. you fucking slut.” Abby mocked you, laughing into your neck breathlessly as your hips rolled once again to fuck into her thigh.

She grabbed the back of your neck to look into your eyes. “Can’t get enough huh? Makes me wish I had a dick so I can go all the way.” She mumbled, kissing the side of your neck as it turned you into a puddle of cum. “Abby..” you moaned, your cunt dragging up and down her toned thigh.

“Sit on my face huh?” Abby suggested, the thought of her tongue inside of you again was blinding and you nodded eagerly. “Yes please, oh god please.” You whined, your whimpers were turning her on so bad, she came twice just by pleasuring you.

Abby lied down on your bed, quickly crawling to sit on her face, the feeling of her nose was too good, you were a shuddering mess, finally feeling that sensitivity that would get you to stop and take a breath, but one last time, you needed this, needed her.

Her tongue was working wonders on your sensitive bundle of nerves, making your moans more strained, closing your thighs in on her head. “Fuck.. Abby..” you cried, rolling your hips to ride her face. “Fuck uh..” you moaned again as Abby flicked her tongue against your clit and it made you grab her hair and ride her face harder. Soft uh uh uh uh’s echoing in the bedroom.

Gushing all you had down Abby’s face, your cum dripping down her cheeks and her nose, as soon as you pulled away from her face Abby just laughed, mostly surprised her best friend was that much of a freak.

She knew certain stuff about you, but never like this, and getting proof? Abby was ecstatic, she’s never going to live this one down.

You finally caught your breath and looked at her next to you, she was wiping her face with her hands, licking what’s left off her lips. “Stop laughing.” You warned, closing your legs as the amount of friction was catching up in no time.

“My goodness you’re a freak!” Abby laughed some more, copying the way you were moaning as you smacked her arm. “Stop!”

“Who fucking knew! Bunny, I never imagined you’re that loud.” Abby laughed some more, standing up, fixing her trousers, she was definitely affected by this but oh how she loves teasing you, now she has a better reason.

You sat up on your elbow and huffed. “I was pent up okay?” You said defensively. “For a year?” Abby jokes, letting out another hearty laugh.

“Oh fuck you.” You say and smack her with a pillow, her face a little shiny from your cum, the reality of what just happened was making you a bit shy but again it was Abby, so much history and stuff worse than cumming on her face occurring.

She helped you clean up as you both laughed at what just happened, your friendship is indeed else.