#but not all the way so the door is still sort of open a little more than it was before huh what then

[strawberry-daiquiris]

happy lando is 25 day! quarter of a century, cheers ears etc. what a wonderful day!!!

inspired ✨ to write some established relationship landoscar celebrating to celebrate lando becoming old and haggard (spoiler: he's not, he's just being dramatic, they're probably just blonde, right?)

They’re granted a rare, extra day off for Lando’s birthday. Andrea takes Oscar to one side in the MTC, looking all sincere with a furrowed brow, and tells him he thinks it’ll be good, for Lando, for them, to have some time alone for his birthday after everything, lately. Oscar’s phone starts lighting up ten minutes later, notification after notification of his meetings getting cancelled for Wednesday, crossed through in his Google calendar. 

Not that it can really be considered time alone. Lando’s playing golf with Max at 11, and they’re going to a restaurant in London tonight with his family.

Still, it has been nice, spending a couple of nights at the hotel together. It’s the kind of place they don’t really stay that often, grand in an old fashioned way, paint chipping off corners and daring you to complain when it’s all part of the character. Last night Oscar went for a swim, and the only other people in the pool were nearly triple his age. He had a great conversation with Mary, celebrating her 50th wedding anniversary, cooing over how nice a boy he is.

Lando’s got a special relationship with the girl on the front desk after she fixed the pizza disaster. He tells Oscar about it in a vague way that’d be pretty worrying, if he hadn’t been watching Max’s stream at the time, curled up in his bed in Monaco thinking he should’ve flown in a day earlier. 

Lando’s in bed himself, right now, still snoring. Oscar’s managed to pull on a pair of joggers he doesn’t think are actually his to open the door to room service. He’d arranged breakfast direct with the kitchen, trying to bypass Lando’s card on file to sign for it himself. It’s not really a birthday surprise, after all, if you make the person celebrating pay for it. 

“Thanks,” he whispers, relieved when he sees it’s Lando’s pizza girl. “Did you get the note about…”

“Mayonnaise?” Her smile as she says it makes something curl in Oscar’s stomach. The horrifying idea that anybody else but him knows Lando’s quirks, even when Oscar knows they’re on show for the world to see. Half of Twitter probably knows about the mayonnaise thing. “Yeah, we might have to get an extra delivery in if he keeps staying.”

Oscar smiles, laughs, even though inside he’s sort of plotting how he can get Lando barred from staying here ever again. They could buy somewhere, near the MTC, he reckons, with their salaries.

As soon as the thought comes, Oscar shakes it off.

It’s mad talk, wanting to buy a house with the guy you’ve been seeing for six months, even if you’ve known him longer, even if you spend most of your lives in each others pockets. 

He notices the snoring has stopped when he starts wheeling the trolley into the main area of the suite. Oscar frowns. Silence is never a good sign, with Lando. It’s either the snuffling breaths of his sleep, the repetitive sounds of a game, or incessant talking. He’s been silent more, lately. 

Oscar pops his head around the door to the bedroom. Lando’s laying on his back, frowning at something in his hand. For a second, Oscar thinks it’s his phone, that Lando’s back reading the bullshit people are writing about him again.

“Uh, hey,” Oscar says, then stops. Not exactly how you greet your boyfriend on his birthday. Even if he’d said it last night when the clocks flickered to midnight, buried deep inside Lando, kissing his neck and his shoulders as they both tried to stave off coming for a little bit longer. “Happy Birth-”

“Have you seen this?” Lando interrupts, sitting up abruptly, holding himself up on one elbow. He sticks his hand out in Oscar’s direction. “I’ve got fricken’ grey pubes.”

Alright, so not his phone then.

Oscar can’t help but laugh, one of the special ones he thinks he reserves pretty much only for Lando, collapsing a bit into his own chest with a huff, letting out the warm air that collects in his chest and has been whispering you love him for a good year now. 

“Can’t say I noticed that one last night,” Oscar tells him, and Lando rolls his eyes, brandishing what Oscar now knows is a pubic hair in the air. “Alright fine, I’m coming, let me see.”

He climbs onto the bed, the joggers he’s now sure are Lando’s slipping further and further down his arse as he crawls. He kicks Lando’s legs apart so he can rest between them, and Lando automatically curls an ankle over his. It’s what they do when they can’t touch properly - in meetings, on planes, sitting in the back of cars in countries that’d kick them out or worse if they knew.

It’s been easier, since they told Andrea and Zak, since it’s gone from secret to just private, at least at work. 

Oscar takes the pube from Lando, holding it up to the slither of light that’s coming in from where they’ve not quite closed the curtain.

Lando looks up at him a bit hopeful, like he’s desperate to be proven wrong. Happier to find out he’s colour blind to greyscale than being old. 

Unfortunately, there’s no mistaking it. It’s definitely lighter than the rest.

“Ah, that does look a little grey, mate, yes.”

Lando groans, flopping down against the pillows, screwing his eyes shut. 

“Might as well just die,” he says dramatically. Oscar sits back, sliding his hands onto Lando’s naked thighs, rubbing them, watching the muscles tense and getting a bit distracted by just how hot he is. It’s a better option, sometimes, than listening to him. “I’m fucking old. Do they even let old people drive? I’m gonna need a fucking pube transplant.”

Oscar snorts. Convenient that he’s forgotten about Fernando being nearly twenty years older than him. 

“You don’t need a pube transplant,” Oscar says, using the sensible voice he puts on when he needs to explain something to Lando. He’s complained before it makes Oscar sound like a teacher, storming off into another room and coming back ten minutes later with a wicked glint in his eye and a potentially slightly illegal PornHub tab open in incognito. “They’re fine. Look…”

He slides his fingers into the tuft Lando’s got above the fat base of his dick. It’s pretty much the same consistency as his facial hair, which he’s absolutely forbidden to mention if he doesn’t want Lando getting the huff for a half hour. 

“Very brown, completely normal for a 25 year old.”

Lando groans again.

“25 is so old, it’s halfway to fucking 50.” Lando grumbles. “Who’s even 50? Aren’t they all dead?”

“Mark’s nearly 50,” Oscar says, then cringes immediately, curling his fingers a bit too tight in Lando’s pubes. His head veers up, eyes a bit dark. Number one rule, no mentioning Mark when either of them is naked, it never ends well. “And er, our Dads? Andrea’s older than that too, and um… Zak.”

Lando screws his face up.

“Oscar, don’t mention Zak when you’re touching my dick, please.”

Despite the annoyance, there’s a hopefulness in the way he says it. Oscar is more than happy to oblige, if it gets him off the hook. He slides down the bed, and even though Lando hasn’t showered and still smells of sweat and come from last night, Oscar takes him into his mouth. He might not be able to play golf, but he can organise breakfast and give a mean blowjob, so he reckons he’s alright. 

Lando’s easy for it, writhing and bucking his hips, and Oscar wants to make it good. Eases Lando’s hips up so he can slide deeper, feeling the press at the entrance to his throat.

After Lando comes, he starts choking, and Oscar has to push him back gently, come still coating his mouth. Lando’s really good at things like this, immediately sitting up to caress the back of Oscar’s head, looking worried. It’s one of the best parts about doing stuff with someone who’d never been with a bloke before Oscar, actually. He still finds the gross parts of sex vaguely horrifying. 

“Are you alright?” Lando asks, and Oscar nods, pressing his fingers into his mouth and swiping around until he finds the culprit, dragging it out from his throat and holding it up.

They both look at it. Drenched in Oscar’s saliva, it’s darker than the first, but it’s still unmistakably grey.

“Don’t,” Lando warns, and Oscar nods, reaching his hand off the bed and flicking his fingers until it drops to the floor, someone else’s problem. “Fucking don’t.”

Oscar snorts, dropping his lips to the inside of Lando’s knee, kissing the soft hairless part that’s only for him. He nods to the door, and the trolley with the steaming plates of waffles, pancakes, and inexplicably, mayonnaise.

He smiles. It’s criminal, really, how much he likes Lando.

“Breakfast?”

[daddy-kinard]

Tommy’s a weak man. When he gets the text - I presume the full gay experience I’m supposed to be having includes hate sex and you’re the only gay man I hate right now so….door’s open - he feels a familiar rush of blood. He sent it at a time he guessed - correctly - Tommy would be free, and fuck, he knows exactly what buttons to press. Knows that Tommy isn’t actually that strong, not really, not when it comes to resisting Evan.

He sort of figured the hate part of the hate sex invitation was mainly a ruse to get Tommy back in his bed one last time. He was wrong. Evan feels a lot, feels it fully and often loudly, but the angriest Tommy ever saw him, embodying all of the frustration and injustice at the existence of the Vincent Gerrard’s of the world, is nothing, nothing, in comparison to the fiery spitting rage that’s directed at him before he’s even closed the door behind him.

“You’re a selfish prick, you know that?”

Tommy’s a little taken aback, but recovers quickly enough to shrug off his jacket, hanging it on the hook by the door out of habit.

“God, fuck you, Tommy. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

And then Evan’s on him. Their teeth clash as they meet in a hungry, claiming, kiss, bodies drawn together by the same magnetism they’ve always had.

“Such a fucking asshole.” Evan spits as they part for air, Evan’s hand trailing down to cup his already hard cock.

Tommy doesn’t give as good as he gets, he can’t. He lets Evan’s fist grip too tightly in his hair, and his teeth scrape too sharply against his lips, his throat, and he - fuck - he enjoys it. Of course he does.

He expects Evan to push him down onto the mattress, to shove a little, to fuck him, rough, the way they had only figured out they liked it sometimes when there wasn’t enough time left. Instead he shakes his head, slapping a condom into Tommy’s chest with force.

“Make me feel it, one last time, you selfish bastard.”

“Buck,” he starts, but -

“Don’t you fucking dare. Not here, not like this.” There’s still anger, but for the first time tonight, Tommy hears the vulnerability in his voice too.

[lobveyun]

lost in the melody | sjy

pairing: student!jake x student!reader | genre: fluff, romance, emotional(?)

synopsis: “lost in the melody" follows the journey of two souls brought together by music. when you stumble upon the quiet, talented jake sim in the school music room, a bond begins to from as he lets you into his world of melodies, secrets and dreams. together, you navigate the ups and downs of young love, face challenges, and support each other's aspirations, even when it means facing separation. through distance and time, your connection endures, creating a love story that, like music, is timeless and ever resonant.

! no cw !

[notes] hi guys okay so im doing this jake story and right now im working on a sunghoon story too so pls stay tuned! ive been very busy for the past months so this is like kind of a surprise post . anyways yea , go read

divider by @dollywons

jake sim was the first guy everyone noticed but few knew. tall with messy black hair that fell into his eyes, he often had a guitar case slung over his shoulders and headphones that seemed permanently attached to his ears. he drifted through the halls like a spector, his presence both magnetic and elusive.

you first truly saw him play one afternoon when curiosity led you to the music room after class. the door was slightly ajar, and a soft sound wafted out, pulling you in. inside, the late afternoon sun cast a golden glow around jake as he sat by the window, his fingers moving expertly over the strings. each note filled the room with a haunting melody that sent shivers down your spine.

he hadn’t noticed you at first; his eyes were closed, a serene smile gracing his lips as if he was in another world. you felt like an intruder, a momentary eavesdropper on something deeply personal personal but the music was intoxicating, and you couldn’t tear yourself away.

when he finally stopped, you clapped softly, unable to hold back your admiration.

jake’s eyes flew open, startled, “I didn’t know… I didn’t know anyone was here,” he stammered, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink as he scrambled to put his guitar down.

“I’m sorry,” you replied, a little embarrassed but genuinely impressed. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. you play beautifully.”

his shoulders relaxed slightly, though he still looked shy. “thank you. I… I just play to unwind. it’s nothing special.”

“no way, it’s amazing,” you insisted, feeling an unexpected rush of courage. you introduced yourself, and after a moment, he offered a small smile in return, “i’m jake.”

as the bell rang, an awkward silence settled between you. “well, I guess I should go,” you said, shuffling your feet.

“yeah, me too,” he replied, his eyes darting away. but just before leaving, he glanced back at you, a flicker of hope in his gaze. it was as if he wanted to see you again.

in the weeks that followed, you found yourself crossing paths with jake more often. some days, you’d catch him in the music room, and he’d invite you in to listen. other times, you’d pass each other in the hall, exchanging shy smiles that made your heart flutter.

one afternoon, as you walked past the library, you noticed him sitting alone by the window, his head buried in a notebook. curiosity piqued, you stepped closer, but he noticed and quickly closed it, looking flustered.

“sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, feeling slightly guilty for intruding. “no, it’s fine,” he replied, glancing down at his notebook as if it held all his secrets. “I was just… writing.”

“writing what?” you asked, unable to hide your curiosity.

he hesitated, biting his lip. after a moment, he sighed and opened the notebook to reveal a page filled with scribbled lines and music notes. “lyrics. it’s kind of personal. but, uh, it helps me sort out my thoughts.”

you leaned in closer, captivated. “they look beautiful. I’d love to hear some of it sometime.”

jake’s eyes softened, a shy smile forming on his lips, “maybe one day. when it’s finished.”

from that moment, you two grew closer. you often met after school in the music room, discussing everything from your favourite bands to your dreams. jake began to share more of himself, his guarded nature slowly breaking down.

as the school festival approached, jake surprised you by asking for your help with his band’s performance. “I could use someone I can trust,” he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “you know, to help organise things.”

excited, you agreed without hesitation. during rehearsals, you watched jake transform from the shy boy you knew into a confident musician. his presence on stage was electric; the way he commanded the audience’s attention left you breathless.

finally, the night of the festival arrived. the auditorium buzzed with energy, the scent of popcorn filling the air as students mingled, chatting excitedly. after a successful performance, where jake had poured his heart into every note, he suggested escaping the noise to the rooftop.

under a blanket of stars, jake took a deep breath, his expression serious yet vulnerable. “there’s… something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he said, his voice almost lost in the night breeze. he fidgeted, glancing away, clearly struggling with words.

encouraging him gently, you said, “you can tell me anything, jake. I promise.”

he looked at you, his eyes searching yours. “I’m not great at talking about my feelings. but being around you feels different. you make me feel like I can be myself.”

a lump formed in your throat as he continued, “I like you. more than I’ve liked anyone. you’ve been my inspiration for so many songs… would you give us a chance?”

you felt your heart race, your mind swirling with emotions. “jake, I feel the same way,” you confessed, your voice steady. “I’d love nothing more.”

a relieved smile broke across his face, his eyes lighting up with joy. “really?” he asked, disbelief mingling with hope.

jake invited you to his favourite spot by a secluded lake, a hidden gem he frequented to find peace. the two of you sat on a grassy hill, the sun setting in vibrant hues of orange and pink. as the cool breeze brushed against your skin, you shared childhood stories and dreams, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you.

“what’s it like to play music?” you asked, glancing at him as he gazed thoughtfully over the water.

“it’s like… he paused, searching for the right words. “it’s like being able to say things that I can’t cope with words. music allows me to show parts of myself that I keep hidden.”

you watched him, captivated. “and what about when you’re with me?”

he turned to you, his gaze softening. “but with you, I don’t feel like I need to hide.” he hesitated before adding, “you make me feel free.”

in that moment, your heart swelled with affection. without thinking, you leaned your head on his shoulder. jake tensed for a moment, then relaxed as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, pointing the sky in deep purples, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and belonging.

as the months passed, your relationship with jake blossomed. you spent lunch together, swapping secrets and laughter. he often brought his guitar to your study sessions, playing soft tunes that filled the air with warmth. “you’re my muse,” he’d tease, making you blush, but you knew he meant it.

for the school’s end-of-year showcase, jake nervously asked you to sing with him. “I wrote a song for us,” he confessed, his cheeks turning a shade darker. “it’s everything I feel about you. I’d love it if we could sing it together.”

the night of the showcase was electric with anticipation. as you stood on stage, fingers intertwined with jake’s, the spotlight felt both exhilarating and terrifying. he began to play, his fingers dancing over the strings with a passion that took your breath away.

as he sang, his voice resonated through the auditorium, filled with emotion that stirred your heart. you joined in, your voices blending harmoniously, weaving a narrative of love and connection that captivated the audience.

when the last note lingered in the air, silence enveloped the room for a heartbeat before the crowd erupted into applause. jake turned to you, his eyes shining with gratitude and love. “thank you,” he whispered, brushing his fingers against yours. “for being the song I never knew I needed.”

tears of joy filled your eyes as you leaned in, meeting him halfway for a soft, tender kiss. the crowd faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own world, a melody playing that only you could hear.

but as your relationship deepened, the challenges began to surface. jake had a habit of retreating into himself whenever stress crept in, especially concerning his music. you noticed the change after a long rehearsal for the upcoming talent show; he seemed distant, his laughter replaced by silence.

“jake, is something bothering you?” you asked one afternoon, lightly touching his shoulder, concern etched on your face.

he looked up, frustration flickering in his eyes. “I… I just need some space right now,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “it’s hard to explain.”

you nodded, heart heavy with worry. “okay, just… let me know if you need anything.”

days turned into weeks, and you felt him slipping away, a ghost of the boy you had grown to love. you decided you couldn’t stay silent any longer. after class one day, you confronted him, your heart racing. “jake, if there’s something wrong, you can talk to me. I’m here for you.”

his expression softened, but the conflict in his eyes was clear. “I’m scared,” he admitted quietly. “scared that I won’t be good enough for you, for the band… for anything. I don’t want to let you down.”

“jake, you’re not just good enough. you’re incredible,” you replied, determination lacing your voice. “you’ve always been enough for me. please, don’t shut me out.”

he looked at you, uncertainty lingering. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“but you already are,” you whispered, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. “please, let me in.”

after a long pause, jake finally nodded, his shoulders slumping as he exhaled deeply. “I’ll try. I promise.”

with open communication, the two of you began to navigate the rough patches together. slowly, jake opened up about his fears, his insecurities, and the pressure he felt to succeed. you listened, providing support and encouragement without judgment.

one sunny afternoon, while sitting in the park, jake surprised you with a small gift: a handwritten song. “it’s not perfect, but it’s for you,” he said, handing it over with a shy smile.

as you read the lyrics, your heart swelled with emotion. it spoke of love, vulnerability, and the beauty of sharing one’s soul with someone.

“jake, this is beautiful!” you exclaimed, feeling the tears of joy spill down your cheeks. “I love it!”

he grinned, the warmth of his smile lighting up your world. “I wanted to create something that captured how I feel about you.”

with renewed determination, you both decided to work on a song together for the talent show. you spent countless hours crafting the melody, laughter spilling from your lips as you struggled to hit the right notes, your bond growing stronger with each chord played.

on the night of the talent show, excitement filled the air as students and teachers gathered, eager to witness the performances. as you and jake took the stage, the world outside faded away. the moment felt surreal; the spotlight was bright, but the connection between you two was brighter.

you exchanged glances, and he nodded, a silent promise of support. as the music began, you poured your hearts into the performance, each note resonating with passion and emotion. the audience was captivated, swept away by the magic you created together.

when the final chord rang out, the room erupted in applause, and you could hardly believe the joy that filled your heart. jake turned to you, eyes wide with disbelief. “we did it!”

you laughed, breathless, and pulled him into a tight embrace. “that was incredible!”

as you stepped off the stage, adrenaline coursing through your veins, you realized how far you had come together. the challenges only deepened your connection, forging a bond that felt unbreakable.

in the weeks that followed, your relationship continued to grow, solidified by the trust you had built. you faced challenges together, celebrating victories and comforting each other in moments of doubt.

jake often played the song you wrote together, filling your days with music that felt like a promise of forever. “I can’t imagine my life without you,” he said one evening, strumming softly in the dim light of the music room.

“and I can’t imagine my life without your music,” you replied, a smile lighting up your face. “It’s our melody now.”

as graduation approached, the future felt uncertain yet thrilling. “whatever happens, we’ll face it together,” jake vowed, his eyes filled with determination.

“together,” you echoed, heart swelling with love. with each note you played, each lyric you sang, you knew that no matter where life took you, your hearts would always be in tune.

if u liked this , pls reblog and like since its hard to make my work known . i hope u enjoyed this !

[solar4seekstron]

Before and So Forth Chr. 4: Transformers x Cybertronian!GN!Reader

Transformers One!Starscream/Soundwave x Cybertronian!GN!Reader(Bit of Megatronus and Sentinel x Reader

Chapter Four: Starscream and Soundwave

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three,

TW/Tags: mild cussing, training sessions, Sentinel has a bad mindset, Starscream trying to make moves, fails of course, Soundwave is actually trying to keep things appropriate….in his own way at least through training of course, reader is done with sentinels shit

(Like last time no smut but there is angst in this one. I wrote the fight scenes the best I can hopefully it isn’t too confusing)

The next morning. After your small visit with Megatronus the night before. To stay you might soon gain eye bags if this keeps up would be an understatement.

You made your way into the training tower before a meeting with Soundwaves team about the next possible battle.

Taking place later tonight as he always kept these sort of meetings more organized more then Starscream would. Shockwave alongside the same as Soundwave.

As you past by many halls you descided to pass the lunch room. Making your way to your usual training room. Luckily Starscream was in a different meeting at the moments.

And so you got to work with your training. It’s time you continue by yourself now. You pulled out your swords as you looked at your reflection on them.

The scar still as visible as it will be…….so forth….You’re so tired….

You began doing some spinning moves. Your movements fluid and fast. Almost as if gravity was nothing showing your complete controle. Some moves include spinning your swords and you moved yourself.

Tossing your swords mid air as make a finishing blow on a dummy and catching your swords with perfection. Well almost in your opinion. You even stared to think about what Megatronus told you last night before departing as ou still kept your focus.

-Flashback-

“I’m afraid our courtship will have to pause for tomorrow sweetspark. I and a few of the other primes will be patrolling on the surface all day due to the other seekers coming from their shift and telling of Quintissons activity.”

He spoke to you in his room.

”So I wont be able to see you tomorrow?” You gently held his larger cervo as you looked up at him.

“Yes…Will you be alright while I’m away?” He looked down at you as he kneeled down. His optics soft towards you. You nodded and softly sighed as you pulled his cervo a bit closer to you. “I shall wait and I’ll be fine Megatronus…”

You gave him an encouraging nod as you sighed and looked out the window. “I shall take you out like last time.” And so he did.

-End Of Flashback-

As you conintue, many hours having gone by and is already past noon. You don’t hear the doors openeing over your grunts as you make one large finishing move and land on your knee and pede. (I was watching Star Wars while writing this lol).

Once you stood up. Noticing your wrist hurting a little. You must’ve pulled something well making a certain move. You let out a sigh as you close your optics. But at the corner of your optic you thought you saw something. And so when you glanced behind you.

Seeing Soundwave standing with his cervos behind his bac…Uh oh. That isnt good.

You also took note he didn’t have any cassettes in his chest as he usually does. You’d then put your swords back into your sword handles on each side of your hip as you faced him as you then spoke.

“Soundwave. What brings you here sir?”

He stays still for a moment before speaking as he walked closer to you. Now his frame a little closer to yours as he looked down at you. “Have you eaten. Y/N?”

Crap-

“Of course Soundwave. Have you?” You lied through your teeth. Hoping he doesn’t use his waves to sense that you’re lying. Luckily he doesn’t seem to try using it as he lifts his head and looked around.

“I have. I and the Cassettes have finished our meals and they’re currently helping Shockwave with his experients for a stronger weapon as per usual.”

His cervos left from behind his back to rest on his sides as he looked back down at you. You just nod and bow your head. “I have been training for hours. I should go for some lunch after our meeting in an hour?”

You past him about to leave until his cervo grabbed your arm. Making you stop as you looked at him. “Before our meeting….How a bit of training?”

His helm tilting a bit as he glanced at you under his visors. You only nod as you glanced at him as well.

———————————————————————————

You then put your swords down before returning to your spot. Placing your pede back as he does the same. You’d then put your guard up, well more. As he then soon attacked. Laying in the first punch against you.

Causing you to move your upper body back to dodge the attack. Then in a fast movement with his cervo still close to you. You grabbed his arm with both cervos as your chest was close to his cervo for a second. You’d then turn.

His frame behind yours but your arms moving along as his arm was still in the same place for a whole second.

Then pushing his arm against your shoulder, you lifted him up using your body force as he’s lifted into the air.

But he was stronger. Being quick to move midair. Moving his legs forward to land on the floor before him as his arm turned (I mean they are robots.) the cervo grabbing an arm as his other cervo comes and grabs your other arm.

He pulls you every close by your arms, your frame fully against his as your legs past his hips for a moment.

He then roughly pushes you into the floor. Creating a very heavy pressure into and against your back strut. Only for your legs to soon both kick him up over you making him fall to his back.

You were fast to use your strength to lift your upper body up by kicking against the floor. Soon standing on your cervos.

You leg then going down fast to kick him down deeper into the floor. But he too was fast you turn and roll to his stomach as use his arms to support him. Even faster on his knee and grabbed your leg. Pulling you closer and once your close he punches your stomach down. Causing you to groan.

He’d then grab at the top of your chest plate as he soon is on his pedes and lifted you up. His cervo only letting go for a moment as his kicked you further back. Although you fell on your bac flying back a bit, you’d soon end up pushing back so you’re on your cervos and back on your pedes.

Facing Soundwave as he ran at you with his movements show determination. You’d soon grab his wrists. Lifting your leg showing your flexibility.

Your pede kicking him in the chin. Whe he was back for a moment. you grabbed his shoulders and hit your helm against his as he opened his mouth mask. He groaned as he showed a bit of a angry expression just by his intake and dermas.

You’d then throw a few punches and blows against his frame even as he tried to block a few. You both were going to be here for a good while.

You both continued for a good while. A Long while. You took note he avoided your face as you kept going toawrds his waits and shoulders. Both of you putting in pretty good hits into eachother. You both will defiently be sore in the morning.

The other seekers are either at home until the meeting or the others are already in a meeting with either Shockwave or Starscream.

You both continued until Rumble and Frenzy came in. Speaking as they walk in on you two still training.

He was able to pin you down against him. His back against the floor as he laid with his legs around your waist. His arm over your neck keeps you locked against him as your legs squirmed around to try to get away.

His other arm around your toros above keeps your arms stuck to your side. You struggled as you tried to break free from his grasp. You try your best to get out.

But your were so out of stamina and against your better judgement. “I yield.”

Soundwave then lets you go. Rumble and Frenzy standing there by the door. frenzy with his cervo on his hip and Rumble sighing as they waited.

You were able to get up without pressing against him. He soon sits up and looks at the two minicons. “Time.”

”Just 20 minutes until the next meeting Soundwave.” Rumble said as he stays in one spot. Frenzy went to your swords to look at them. You’d hold the side of your waist as you stood up. Soundwave standing up as well as his cervo gently held his shoulder.

He then looked at you as he spoke. His mouth mask closed once more.

“Now we will commence with our meeting for the day. Will you be able to keep posture for another hour?”

He gestured to you as Rumble gently pulled Frenzy from your swords and held frenzys hand as the two looked at you bot.

You gave him a nod still standing straighter. “I’ll be fine Soundwave.” He then nodded and started walking to the door. Now closer to Frenzy and Rumble as they both looked up at him. “See you in 10.”

He walks out as the two waved to you as they both left as well. You waving back saying your good byes for now. As you stand there, you looked down. Training with him was…certainly interesting. You can admit that at least. As you thought more and more. He was…a bit more gentle with you than the last time you fought him even before.

Something Starscream did just yesterday….You shake your head. You cant be thinking of these things with the two. You are being courted by one of the Primes.

One of the most highest honors someone could ever have. You cant let old feelings start rushing out.

You walked to your swords. Picking them up and lookin at your reflection in them once more as you narrowed your optics. You have a new duty with your work.

You cant be waiting for anyone else but the one you have chosen…….chosen first who is Megatronus…Right?

——————————————————————————-

As you made your way to the meeting room in the higher levels of the building. Parts of your body was a bit in pain. But not distracting enough for you to speak and walk as you past a few guards who are leaving from the latest meeting that ended.

As you made it to the room Soundwave was already there.

He was getting a presentation ready for the meeting with the help of Laserbeak, Rumble, and Frenzy. Ravage was already in Soundwaves chair waiting as her pas rested on the table.

You’d then took a seat close to Soundwaves by just a couple seats. Something gestured by Ravage when she noticed you come in.

As you sat down. Slowly until the minutes got closer to the meeting more and more guards came in. Eventually Starscream came in and took a seat next to you.

Sitting closer to where ravage was as he had his usual smirk on his dermas.

As you both sat down you noticed by the corner of your eye that Starscream was glancing down at you as he rested one cervo on the table. And the other was on his thigh.

The other being the one closest to you. And just like that…The meeting has started.

As Soundwave spoke and sat in his chair with ravage on his lap like a kitten. Everyone listened with purpose. Giving him their full attention. You included as he goes over his plan for a possible next battle to fight the Quintessons.

Both of your cervos on your lap as your optics stared at Soundwave. His helm turning every now and then as he spoke.

Eventualy the meeting soon lasts over an hour. You can hear Starscream silently make a sound close to a huff as he looked over some data pads he had in front of him. His red optics narrowed as he had a frown on his dermas.

You you continue to look at Soundwave. You’d then feel a cervo on top of your cervo, it being a bit larger then yours. When you glanced down. Not moving your helm much. You soon realized it’s Starscreams. When you looked at him he was staring down at you. A little smirk at the corner at his lips as he then looked back down at the data pad.

You’d just look back at Soundwave. Not knowing that he noticed the moment.

Starscreams cervo stays there for a good amount of time. Gently squeezing every now and then..Is this is way of flirting???

It stays like this for a good while until it’s been almost 2 hours. The meeting was finally over. Everyone making a vote on weapons and such as so forth. From there everyone stands up. You included. You could hear a faint huff as Starscream was fast to move his cervo from yours as he looked at a few other data pads. You got up and walked out.

Only now realizing you haven’t eaten lunch.

You’d continue you path to the lunch room as the rest went home and other guarded the tower. You’d make it to the room and grab some lunch. That’s when Starscream comes in. He’d walk in and sit next to you as you ate some energon.

Being quiet for a moment before speaking.

“You know. I would appreciate it you were to return my affections…..Sweetspark…”

You side eye him as you ate your energon before speaking. “Thought you said to wait…right?” Starscream scoffed.

”Doesn’t mean I cant show you my affections sweetspark.” His digits gently holding your chin to make you look at him.

“Starscream-“

”I could care less of what Soundwave said. I make choices based off my Own. Understood?” You have stood up as you stared down at Starscream. You’d then start taking steps to the door until Starscream stood up grabbing your cervo. “You really wish to try this dance….Y/N?”

His words were a bit sinister. “Yes.”

You pulled your cervo away and face him. “Focus on being a superior and I’ll go do my job.” You soon walk away, he just watches you as you opened the door and then closed it being you. Wouldn’t be any better if you were to slam the door.

———————————————————————————

You continue to walk in the halls. Making your way to the front doors being done today. But as soon as you got past one of the doors to a cleaning closet. Frenzy has pulled you in….He a strong bot.

He’d then give you a data pad. “Soundwave said to meet him in the meeting room.” He then runs off with his little legs.

You’d sigh and make your way to the meeting room. From there as ou walked into the room. Sentinel was in there with him. The two seemed to be speaking to each other about the primes and such. When Soundwave noticed you were there. He nodded to Sentinel. Him doing the same as Soundwave walks past you.

You’d walk closer as Sentinel start down at Soundwaves spot. “YN, please. Sit.”

And so you do. When you first saw him you immediately remembered yesterday. When he pulled you into a kiss before Zeta opened his door….

What is he up to?

”I’m sure you’ve been wondering about yesterday and the meaning of me giving you that……Special kiss? Well you see my dear.” For a moment fore you just gave him a blank expression until his cervo held your chin as he just stared down at you.

”I believe it’s time Zeta and the other primes shouldn’t be so calm to believe that they’re superior to descide who thay may take as a Conjunx….” His helm leaning closer to yours as he spoke once more in a whisper.

“Soundly you agree with your special partner….say…Megatronus?..”

Your optics widened. “How.” Your voice was low and is more in a whisper.

”You two aren’t exactly as sneaky as you both like to believe to be. He said in his casual tone with a grin on his smile. Leaning back a sits straight on the chair. Both of his arms on the arms of the chair. His helm only barely turned looking towards you as only his optics look toawrds you.

”You aren’t the only one being used.” You head tilted up for only a moment.

”Zeta. The big man himself.” His cervos then gestured to himself as he grinned. “Trying to court me of all bots.” He chuckled. But that smile soon gone as he looked down.

”That kiss is to teach him a lession. Good thing I timed that perfectly…At first I thought why not you know. Cause well- why not?” He spoke as he then stood up and walked slowly to behind your chair. “But when I found out that giant Brute was keeping a special little bot. You. Courting you and all. Oh boy…did that open my eyes.”

He sets his cervos on your shoulders as you glanced behind you a bit.

”Though I wont lie. I can see why he’s so intrigued by you…” He’d then lean his held down next to you. Your optics side eyeing you as he spoke once more. In a whisper again.

”Tell me. Do you enjoy being used?”

You tried to find the words. Not sure what you can say right or what will be wrong. So..you only looked down as the table as his stays there.

Your intake opening a little bit before closing a few times. Sentinels optics staring down at you. Going from looking at your dermas to back to your optics. You didn’t look at him.

He had a frown on his dermas as he stands straight again. “After the War. We will handle this…and.” He had grabbed your cervos. Gently pulling you up to stand as he’s now in front of you.

“We shall no longer be used for such power. If you help me against the primes. I can promise you a better life. By my side.” His cervos now on your waist. He smiled down at you as you placed your cervos on his arms as you felt his chest against his.

”Sentinel-”

“Just give it some time. My door is always open once you accept my offer.”

Those last words he said with a bit more purpose. His cervo is then at your chin. His digits gently holding it. “I shall be waiting so patiently for you…Sweetspark.” You’d just stare at him. Your face unsure as he stared down with blue optics.

One of his cervos then grabbing yours and kissed the back of your cervo. His optics never leaving yours.

He’d then let out a small chuckle and finally let you go. “Just remember which Sid you are one Sweetspark. Because I’m not a bot.” He leaned close. “Who gives second chances…” You both stared at each other. Both expressionless as your optics stare narrowed. “…You’re dismissed.”

Oh man this one made me nervous but I think I was able to nail it with writing for Soundwave, Starscream, and a bit of Sentinel. Don’t worry Megatronus will be back for the next chapter. And Shockwave will have a bit more of a spotlight for the intertest with the reader. The reader is really going through it. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I’ll see you all in the next chapter!

[boytearscore]

his obsession, her control. — matthew sturniolo.

summary: because ever since he met his brothers' best friend, he hated her to the core by the way she dressed, talked and presented herself. he thought she was just an attention seeker while claiming to be the only immune guy to her dirty games. that is until the morning chris and nick decided to go out and get groceries by themselves, since matt himself refused to drive them to target, he was left all alone with her, unfortunately for the blue eyed boy, his strong belief of being an exception when it comes to fall for her dangerous charm was completely erroneous.

warnings: swearing, teasing/arguing (matt being a jerk mostly), enemies to lovers but sort of he hates her while she finds his tantrums amusing, smut, bratty!matt, blowjob, facefucking, foreplay, agressiveness and a lot of dirtytalk.

author’s note: before y’all start to hate me, i came home from work yesterday and had NO wifi nor data to post the chapter. still, i apologize for the delay. also, comment and tell me what you think about this new plot, the main character is gonna teach you that just because a girl is dominating, doesn’t mean she can’t play the submissive role to get her ways faster. ;)

chapter one.

the girl sighs slowly spreading her legs over the couch, it’s been only ten minutes since chris and nick left and she already felt like melting with boredom, not finding anything or anyone interesting to see or text on her phone.

her eyes shift slowly around the house, stopping right at the door slightly open of matthew’s room, her best friends’ annoying brother. it’s been years and she still didn’t believe they were triplets, how can matt be so awfully different from them? usually she doesn’t interact much with him except when he gives her disappointing and judging glares while they’re both in the same room. instead of angering her, she always finds it amusing and always provoke him until he’s red with anger.

that’s when the brilliant idea pops up in her pretty little head, what if she breaks into matt’s room to make him absolutely lose his shit? that’s enough to entertain her while her best friends are out for a couple hours, right?

while tiptoeing and holding a mischievous laugh, she peeks through the gap to study her target. matt is resting, laying on his bed with hair falling over his eyes and still wearing his pyjamas even though it was afternoon, his arm behind his neck making his muscles visibly flexed by the position, at the same time the other one is placed over his stomach, scrolling on his phone peacefully. 

she stares at his tattoos and the veins of his arm, it wasn’t a secret matt was attractive, in fact, she didn’t feel the need to say otherwise because one; hating him wasn’t a possibility, she couldn’t care less about his childish behavior, it was actually pretty funny and that gave her lots of opportunities to tease him. and two: nothing was more satisfying than seeing his jaw clenched and his bratty attitude rising when she provoked him.

“get out.” he says without looking at the door, being able to feel her presence due to her sweet and addicting scent.

she chuckles, entering and closing the door behind her calmly. “you know… i wasn’t gonna stay but now that you told me to get out...” her exposed legs by the black miniskirt make its way to his bed, sitting on the edge, her smooth skin complimenting the white sheets while her skirt molded perfectly her thighs.

matt rolls his eyes again “i don't care what you do, just don't bother me while i’m trying to relax.” he continues on his phone, not even glancing at the girl’s relaxed figure. “what do you want, anyway? nick and chris had enough of you and now you came here to annoy me? you’re really good at that, you know.“ he smirks sarcastically.

“oh, i’m very aware.” she crawls to the other edge of the bed close to the wall, leaning against it, her legs brushing against his feet slightly without her noticing.

matt, however, did notice it. in fact, his whole shivered body noticed it.

“and don’t pretend like you hate it when i’m here.”

the blue eyed boy scoffs and moves his feet away from her. “oh, i don’t have to pretend, i can barely stand being in the same room as you most of the time.” he sets his phone down and finally looks at her, giving her the a once-over with his typical critical eye, he stares at her tank top and then at her uncovered stomach and thighs. “what’s with the short skirt, huh? trying to impress someone? it’s not like anyone here would be interested in a girl like you, anyway.” matt smirks arrogantly. “especially not me. so you can stop trying so hard, it’s pathetic.”

“it’s fucking 95° degrees.” she replied with her usual nonchalant tone while grabbing her phone to check her lip gloss. “and i wouldn’t be so sure about that, your friends are more than interested. everytime they come here to hangout with you, they spend more time thirsting over me than talking to your boring ass.” she added, drawing her lips with a finger and laughing a little at her own comment at the same time. matt finds himself glazing at her lips, the way she draws her reddish glossy flesh with her finger without a worry, like her moves were calculated. to him, it seemed like she doesn’t feel anything, no matter what he says.

he snaps from the trance, shaking his head and frowning at her words.

his friends indeed spend more time eating her alive with their eyes than paying attention to him when she is around with nick and chris, which made matt crazy with rage. all of the groans and death glares he gives her every single time just proving her point without needing to add much.

matt finally narrows his eyes, anger building inside him little by little. “don’t even fucking start with them. they’re too good for your stupid annoying personality.” he leans back against his headboard, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at the girl pointedly. “it doesnt matter, you’re just asking for attention dressed like that, regardless. typical slutty behavior from a girl like you.” the boy sneers derisively. “probably hoping one of us will bend you over and teach you a lesson, huh? too bad. i have standards, unlike my idiotic friends, apparently... they’ll fuck anything that moves. not me though. i need a real woman, not some immature whore.” he smirks cruelly. “unluckily for you, i’m not interested in sloppy seconds. or thirds.”

oh, the good and old fragile masculinity. the girl smirks, her eyes shifting to dark manner.

“is that so?” she leans over his legs, placing both hands on his tights covered by his grey sweatpants, her long black nails digging slightly into his skin while her penetrating gaze stares at his soul, the boy’s body tensed up and she scoffs. “what’s wrong? are you too insecure to handle a confident woman?” matt freezes for a second almost vocally responding to the sensation of her nails digging into his flesh, he swallows avoiding her eyes with a mix of rage and anticipation.

the girl studies his expression, feeling his tights tensing up more and more underneath her fingers. she bends back to her previous spot laughing quietly, her unbothered expression and nonchalant tone still not changing. “if you think that a piece of fabric defines a woman’s worth then you’re nothing but a virgin little boy who probably gets hard watching cartoons.” she gets up, walking towards the door, turning her head to face him before leaving. “you know… there’s a big difference between being an asshole and just a straight up sexist. i was wrong about you and sadly not in a good way.” she opens the door and closes it behind her, calmly walking to the living room and sitting on the huge white couch once again. the girl unlocks her phone, scrolling without paying attention to the screen. mentally, she was counting the seconds to see matthew’s figure bursting out of his room and scream at the top of his lungs. the corner of her mouth quirked up with excitement.

meanwhile, matthew stares blankly at her ghost in front of him, processing her words. he grits his teeth, face turning red with anger. 

the tall boy jumps up from the bed and storms out of the room after her, heading straight to the living room, her calm and collected mannerism making his neck vein pop up with annoyance. “fuck you! you don't know shit about me!” matt stands in front of the girl, hands on his hips as he glares down at where she sits on the couch. “i’m not insecure nor a virgin, you stupid cunt! and i’m not a little boy either! i’m a grown-ass man who knows what he wants! unlike you, who clearly has no self-respect dressing like a fucking hooker.” his voice is rising with each word, his temper flaring out of control. he takes a step closer, looming over her menacingly. 

she laughs amusedly, getting up from the couch without a hush, her eyes not backing down from his one second.

their faces are inches apart, his nostrils flare as she invades his personal space, his breath hitching slightly at how close she is. he can smell her scent again with the mix of her mint warm breath hitting his face and watch the flecks of pure darkness in her eyes. it makes him even angrier that she affects him this way.

“then why are you yelling and being so defensive?” she tilts her head, pursing her lips to mock him. “did i hit a nerve, little boy?”

matt laughs sarcastically, rubbing his face in frustration.

“i’m not defensive, you fucking psycho! i’m pissed off because you're a delusional bitch who thinks she can talk to people however she wants without consequences!” his voice drops to a low growl as he stares intensely into her eyes, his own blazing with fury and something else he refuses to acknowledge. “think you're so sly, so above everyone else, huh? sorry to break your little ‘i don’t care’ attitude but you're nothing special. just another dumb slut looking for a man to put you in your place.” matt reaches out and grips her chin roughly, forcing her to maintain eye contact with him. she gasps with his aggressiveness while smirking, still not being affected by his words. 

“oh, i don’t think i’m above anyone else.” she leads her hand to his chest, creeping up to the neck and he tightens the grip on her chin, his pulse racing beneath her fingers. “i just think i’m better than guys who judges people based on clothes. you know? the ones who probrably will stay alone and horny forever?” her challenge only fuels his anger further and he leans in even closer until their noses are nearly touching, making her smirk wider. ”guys like… you.” he groans, sliding his other hand up to wrap around her throat loosely, applying just enough pressure in an attempt to make her submit once and for all, but it was too late. she was getting inside his head without even trying too much and he had no idea. “see, you’re calling me a slut for the way i dress but i bet you can’t name one guy i’ve dated.’’

“you’re right, i don't know who you've fucked. but i know your type, always throwing yourself at guys, desperate for validation. you probably spread your legs for the first dick that shows interest, don't you?” he replies right away, his words heavy with irritation. “face it, sweetheart - you're a pathetic little tease who gets off on driving guys crazy. well, congratulations, mission accomplished. you’re driving ME crazy alright... but not in the way you wanted.”

the girl lets out a small giggle, ignoring all the offensive comments, her mind floating with the thought of all the words she’s gonna make him swallow later. this by itself was awfully turning her on, but she manages to hide it well by her unconcerned expression.

“it’s so funny the way you’re affected by my words while trying so hard not to show it.” the girl takes her hand away from his neck, crossing her arms. “and i didn’t even try anything. i just replied to your brainless incel comments and you got mad because you have nothing else to say besides calling me an attention seeker.” she shrugs, her gaze still on him while she feels his fingers flexing around her slender throat.

matt snorts derisively at her words, her neck veins pulsing underneath his digits. he knows she's affected by him too, no matter how much she tries to hide it.

‘’oh please, spare me the bullshit. you live for this kind of thing… pissing people off, pushing buttons until they snap. well, i’m not falling for your sick games.’’ he releases her abruptly and steps back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. his heart pounds wildly in his chest but he refuses to let it show on his face.“get the hell out of my sight before i do something we both regret. trust me, you don't want to test me right now. i’m not one of your little boy toys to play with whenever you feel bored.’’

the corner of her lips went up with a smirk, she quietly sneaks behind matt who is currently facing his door, trying to control the anger and arouse inside him.

the girl lifts her feet up a little to reach his ear. “and what exactly are we going to regret, matt?” she whispers, brushing her lips against his lobe.

matt freezes as he feels her warm breath ghosting over his ear, her lips barely grazing his skin. every muscle in his body tenses, his fists clenching at his sides as he fights the urge to grab her and throw her onto the nearest surface.

‘’fuck you, get off me!’’ he snaps, shrugging her off roughly and spinning around to face her. his eyes blaze with barely contained lust and fury as he backs her up against the wall, caging her in with his arms. ‘’fine. let's play this fucking game, but don’t fool yourself. this is MY game, not yours. see if you can handle the consequences.’’ matt leans in, capturing her mouth in a brutal kiss before biting at her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, she moans with the mixture of pain and pleasure, the taste of blood only making her more aroused by second. 

her arms wrap around his neck, one hand reaches his hair, grabbing and pulling back in a sharp grip to make him face her. “is that all you can do?” she asks, gasping with her mouth slightly open, a little blood stain painting her swallowed lips red. “guess i was right about you just being a virgin little boy.” the girl smirks, tightening the grip on his hair more aggressively, a low growl rumbles in matt's chest, the sharp sting only serving to inflame his desire further. 

he presses himself fully on her, grinding his already hard cock against her hip as he grabs both wrists and pins them above her head roughly. ‘’you fucking tease, you have no idea what i’m capable of.’’ he rasps, trailing biting kisses along her jawline and down her neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. “i could ruin you in ways you never imagined. make you beg while screaming my name to the whole fucking neighborhood to listen.’’ matt nips sharply at her collarbone before soothing the sting with his tongue, laving the abused flesh with long strokes. his free hand slides down to grope her breast roughly through the thin fabric of her top, tweaking her nipple between his fingers.

she gasps, lifting her leg up between his legs, her hands still pinned above her head. “you’re just talk.” she scoffs, brushing her knee against his hard cock and he tilts his head back, lips parted with a whimper before he turns back to her, closing the gap between their bodies even more while sliding up the grip on her wrists, making her moan with the pain of her muscles being stretched aggressively. “i dare you to destroy me, matthew. even though i know you won’t get even close.” she looks up at him with a burning gaze, a unreadable expression in her face.

his eyes darken with sadistic glee at her challenge, a wicked smirk twisting his lips. matt releases her wrists abruptly and grips the hem of her black tight top, tearing it open with one swift motion to expose her bra-clad breasts, she moans and whimpers against his mouth, finally feeling her arms free. the flimsy lace provides little barrier as he palms the soft mounds roughly, rolling her sensitive nipples between his fingers. ‘’want to be destroyed, you fucking slut? i’ll give you what you asking for.’’ he captures her mouth again in a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue as he plunders her depths ruthlessly. the blue eyed boy hands roam her body greedily, squeezing and caressing every curve as he grinds his aching erection against her hip bone.

she breaks the kiss with heavy breathing, her lips still brushing against his. “yet you seem more affected than me.” she leads a hand to his hard cock, caressing it, matt immediately lets out a strangled groan as she gropes his straining dick through the cotton fabric of the sweatpants, his hips jerking involuntarily into her touch. “so hard…” her hand squeezes the covered length ruthlessly, leaning to his neck and sucking his pale skin, she smiles noticing the instant harsh red hickeys. “it seems like you’re the slut.” she brings a hand to his face, slapping it slightly before grabbing his face and pulling closer to hers. “and you didn’t even need to dress like me to be one, did you?” she giggles, sucking his bottom lips before biting it without mercy to bruise him just like he did to her.

“shut your fucking mouth.” her teasing words send a fresh wave of fury crashing through him and he grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back roughly to bare the column of her throat to his hungry mouth. “you have no idea what you're talking about.” he snarls against her skin before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh, marking her with his hatred and desire. the other hand slides under her skirt to cup her ass possessively, kneading the firm globe. “i’m gonna fuck that smart mouth of yours until you choke on my cock. show you what a real man can do.“

she chuckles, her eyes glaring at him with challenge. “a real man, huh?” she slowly drop to her knees, calmly tracing her fingers over his sweatpants and pulling down just enough, his hard cock jumps over her face and matt breath catches in his throat watching the scene before his eyes, her hot mouth hovering mere inches from his very erected member. “no underwear at home? how slutty of you.” she chuckles, leaning against his pink tip covered with precum and licking it while her lustful eyes gazed at his face. “let’s see if you’re just all talk or not.”

his lips turns from a gasp to a smirk with her words, he tangles his fingers in her hair, gripping tightly as he guides her face closer to his straining erection. “open wide, you whore. show me how good you can suck dick.” he demands gruffly, rubbing the leaking tip across her full lips. “if you do a decent job, maybe i’ll consider letting you ride my cock later. would you like that, princess? to have me splitting your cunt open with my cock?”

matt pushes past her lips without waiting for a response, sliding deep into the welcoming heat of her mouth with a guttural moan.

she begins to take him all inside her mouth, reaching the throat right away while sucking vigorously, her tongue twisting around his tip when reaching the top before sliding back down deep in her cavity. her eyes already flooding with tears thanks to the aggressive contact of his large dick hitting the back of her throat multiple times, she’s looking at him with siren eyes while her nails were scratching and digging on his thighs.

matt throws his head back with a loud groan as the girl takes him with all effort, her throat constricting deliciously around his sensitive cock. the tears finally stream down her flushed cheeks as she struggles to accommodate his size, but she doesn't pull away, instead doubling her efforts to please him. “just like that. take it all, you filthy little cockslut.” he praises roughly, holding her head steady as he begins to thrust shallowly into her mouth, fucking her face with increasing intensity. “your mouth was made for sucking my dick, wasn't it? bet you love having your throat used like this, being choked on my thick cock.”

he picks up speed, slamming into her mouth brutally as he chases his release.

meanwhile she sucks him more, putting more pressure and taking him even deeper, her tears continuously falling down her pink cheeks and her makeup all smudge over under eyes still glued to his.

that sight of her was way too much for him, matt smirks to himself. feeling proud of dominating the girl who never backs down to anyone. her tear-streaked face, the makeup running down her cheeks as she takes his cock like a submissive whore sends matt hurtling towards the edge. with a roar, he buries himself balls-deep in her throat and holds her there as he erupts, flooding her mouth with spurt after spurt of hot cum.

“swallow it all, don't you dare spill a single drop.” he growls, keeping her trapped on his twitching shaft as he rides out the waves of his intense orgasm. “fuck, such a good cumdump. you’ve earned yourself a reward. now get up and bend over the kitchen counter. it’s time for me to fuck your little wet pussy.”

the girl swallows everything slowly holding back a smirk while savoring the taste of winning against a fucking asshole, she already won and her game didn’t even start yet.

slowly, she gets up in front of him, wipping the saliva off her chin and the melted makeup under her eyes. her hair beautifully messy and her shining eyes by the tears giving matthew the brief satisfaction, but quickly he shifts his mocking smile to a frown when she smirks and get closer to him.

“you’re not gonna fuck me, matt.” she announces, placing a finger on his chin. “because all i needed to do was pretend to be submissive for a split second for you to think that i was playing your little game, but in reality, you were playing mine this whole time.” she chuckles, releasing his chin with a harsh push with her finger, his head turn to the side while his jaw clenched. “you said you’re not like the other guys but you fell for my tricks just like they do.” she fixes her clothes, walking to the couch and sitting there with her legs crossed, the wetness of her pussy making her a little uncomfortable, but she brushes it off continuing her line of thoughts. “i wouldn’t be mad though, i just gave you the best orgasm of your life, didn’t i?” she asks, tilting her head while smiling.

he stares at her with his mouth open as she saunters away, ignoring his demand to present herself for him to ravage. she was right, no girl ever made him feel that amount of pleasure in his life but of course he was not gonna tell her that.

matt sighs, anger and arousal war within him as he watches her swinging her feet on the couch as if nothing happened.

“the fuck do you think you're doing? come here and bend over your fucking ass so i can destroy your soaking wet cunt.” he warns darkly, stalking towards her with murderous intent in his eyes. “you don't get to tease me like that and then just walk away. this is not how this works, i will have you begging for my cock before we're done today, mark my words.“

reaching the couch, matt grabs the girl roughly by the arm and hauls her to her feet.

“you’re the one begging to fuck me, matt.” she says smirking, his tight grip on her arm making her feel the need to provoke him more. “i mean, if you’re right about me opening my legs to every guy, i guess you’re the only one not getting it. and yet you’re here, wanting so bad to feel my pussy around your dick.” she places a hand over his cheek, caressing it with a fake sense of care. “you’re pathetic…” her thumb slowly slides to his lips, drawing it slightly while the boy shivered, not knowing which emotion to focus, horniness or ego bruised. “but that’s okay, i love pathetic men, they stand exactly where i want.” she slowly inserts a finger inside his mouth and matt opens it without even noticing. “that’s it…” she whispers, pressing his tongue with enough pressure to make him groan.

he is paralyzed again, all this new sensations eating his masculinity and dominance alive, her mocking words stoking the flames of his fury higher but at the same time he wants to give him to the pleasure but quickly recovering to protect his pride.

he grabs her wrist in an iron grip, still feeling the taste of her thumb in his mouth while the other hand acts quickly, seizing her waist against his torso, trapping her between the hard surface nearest wall and his muscular body.

“listen here, you little brat.” he slides his hand under her skirt, using his finger to pull her panties to the side. matt grins, feeling her soaking wet pussy. “look at you, you’re dripping.” he chuckles sarcastically. “i’m going to fuck you and you’re gonna take my cock as the good slut you are. the only question is whether you're going to be able to sit comfortably tomorrow or not.” he threatens menacingly, grinding his already hardening cock against her lower stomach. “i suggest you start begging nicely for it like a good little bitch. maybe if you ask really sweetly, i’ll go easy on you... for the first round, anyway.”

suddenly the voices of chris and nick echoed through the front door. seems like they were back with the groceries. she smirks at matt. 

“nope, i’d rather leave you hard and dry in front of your brothers.” she winks at him smirking, taking his surprise as an advantage to break free from his body, heading to the the her previous spot calmly.

matt curses under his breath as he hears chris and nick approaching the stairs with loud laughter and chatting, knowing he won't have time to properly punish that menace for her insolence. not yet anyway. he shoots her a look filled with dark promise before quickly tucking himself back into his pants and adjusting his shirt.

“this isn't over.” he whispers harshly, jabbing a finger at her as he steps back and she smiles at him amused by his anger. with that ominous vow ringing in the air, matt turns to greet his brothers with a forced smile, praying they don't notice the prominent bulge tenting his sweatpants or the glazed look of frustrated lust in his eyes.

[nothots-headempty]

Sunrise and Hangovers

Charles Xavier × reader

Summary: you're tipsy and in love. Charles is just... conflicted. Can you ever get in sync with the young professor that you can't get off your mind?

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: so much angst, fluffy, alcohol mentions, some kiss-kiss

Author's note: I love this man so much. Also tell me what you guys thing. I'm back to writing after so long, the self doubt is going crazy crazy <3 posted this after 3 days of over thinking it wow

Also this fic is First Class era based but but I just loved this gif so much I had to indulge myself T_T

When the dark door to his study lands smack against your face, you finally open your eyes clearly and take in where you're stood. Your tequilla-addled brain loved working over time, guiding your feet with absolutely no abandon to the front of Charles's sanctum.

There's a glass still in your hand and your eyes seem to attract it over to you, tongue taking a couple of tries before the straw is in your mouth and the pungent fluid flows down your throat. Liquid courage or not, you were about to knock.

Your fingers stretch out to the wood before you, the crease in your brow deepening when the door swings open without any action from your person. You're still looking at your fist, confused, suspicious of finding a new mutant ability to unlock doors without touching them. And then there's him, arms crossed across his chest, his gaze following you, evidently amused.

"Did I just do that?", you mumble, your confusion dissolving into absolute chaos when you see him properly. His hair is slightly tousled like he had just got out of bed, his sweater vest turned a little sideways, a little out of sorts. His face still wears that same grin, the same sparkle of his eyes. The same Charles you had come to love with every passing day.

"Create enough sub-concious noise to wake me up, you mean? Yes, that was definitely you." He pouts, playful and you can't help but take a step toward him. "Are you always calling my name when you're drunk or is this revenge for all the hours of training?" His hands slide into his pockets, a lazy yawn on his lips as he leans against the doorframe. You know his eyes haven't left you since he walked out, and instead of the usual shyness, right now you feel something warm and fuzzy inside you.

Maybe it's the haze everywhere around you, a muddle to your step, the coursing adrenaline through your veins and yet in the midst of it all, your affection for him constricts in your chest, tighter than ever.

His eyebrow raises, almost comically at your silence, the seriousness in his gaze juxtaposed to the ease of his posture.

"Sorry for waking you." You're not sorry. Not even a little. Not when this is the first time you've seen him like this. His guard down. His voice a low murmur, doused in sleep. You take another step towards him but this time he takes a step back. The door opens wider and you realise he's inviting you in.

To his study.

Your eyes snap back to his. It's one of those moments where you know even pinching yourself won't make you believe it's real. The shock shows on your face, you're aware and he tilts his head in response, a challenge to pose the question fighting it's way to your tongue. You don't. Instead, you step closer still.

His study feels like a distant reality anyway, forgotten, ignored, your body swaying towards the warmth emanating from him. It threatens to shatter you, that feeling of being so close. Of wanting to touch him. The material of his vest against your fingers, the collar of his shirt against your neck, his cheek against your cheek. His tongue in your mouth.

You know you shouldn't, you know it's stupid. You know he's your professor and he'll never feel the way you do. And he'd never look you in the eye again. And you'd never get to be on his arm at a party. Or by his side during one of his lectures.

But right now. In the low burn of his table lamp, your fingers can't help but reach forward, brush lightly against his jaw. His eyes follow everything, from the minute you move, right to the moment of electric contact, skin to skin. You feel him tense up. His gaze solidifies, sets on you.

You go on still, running a finger along his temple, caress his cheek and then, his eyes fall shut. A soft sigh gets caught somewhere in his throat but he shows no effort to make anything of it. His face leans into your hand, brushing back against your thumb as you glide it along the apple of his cheek.

He whispers your name, the syllables warped by the interruption of your fingers on his lips, tracing their outline, memorizing it. You might forget the night, the way you landed up here, everything you said. But the feel of his lips, his nose, his jaw, all of him. It was etched too deep to be lost in your memories.

"Charles.", you mumble. You don't know why you say it. His name feels like a poem on your tongue, the words you intend to say all swallowed up in that single utterance. Your slow approach now finds you inches from his face, your chests nearly touching, your breaths ragged, loud.

Up close, you can see his pupils are dilated, blown wide, his mouth hanging open halfway since your thumb ran along its edge. There's a hesitation in his gaze, though, and before it can translate to speech, you push yourself up on your toes, lips meeting his with a soft moan you can't hold back.

His response is almost immediate, his arms wrapping around your waist, head leaning in farther so he can give you what you want. You gasp into his mouth, his tongue swiping at yours, your fingers instinctively finding home in the soft, lush locks of hair at his neck.

He's the first to pull away, a little too soon for your liking, disengaging your mouths so he can rest his forehead against yours. The smile on his lips pushes against your cheek and you can't help but smile back.

The alcohol did well at holding back the usual questions. The "what now?", the "does he really like me?" All the bullshit that you'd let yourself think about tomorrow morning.

For now you can feel his fingers pressed into your back, the warmth of his breath brushing your skin, the gentle caress of his nose against yours as he moves back to look at you. Right now, this is all you needed.

"What was that for?" He sounds stern. Much like the professor you were used to being around. But his hands are still clasped behind you and his smile is radiant.

"That was for all the weeks I've thought about doing this before. And then not done it anyway.", you smile. "And this is because I want to do it again." You lean back in to quench the need to have his lips on yours again. But this time he leans away. The disappointment, the dread are instant, spurting up in the back of your mind.

But his fingers reach up to brush your frown from your face. He takes a step away, a hand offered to you which you confusedly take in yours.

"You just sound like you're really, really drunk, love." He shakes his head, laughing to himself as he leads you out of the study to the room next door. The chill in the air is grounding, and you wonder if it's just his warmth you already miss.

"And drunk is not the best mood to be doing any of this in.", he continues, gesturing vaguely to the air between you and him. Your heart is sinking still, inspite of his words and so you wordlessly follow him to the bed before you, seating yourself on the edge.

He kneels between your legs, easing your heels slowly off your feet. You feel the gentle brush of his palm as he runs his hand along your calf, a rush of goosebumps blooming on your skin. He's still only millimeters away from you, close enough to touch lips and yet so much more distant than he was just minutes ago.

"Don't want you feeling stupid after sunrise.", he smirks. His eyes find yours again, and there's a little underlying drift of restraint, of light pessimism that you catch for the first time.

"I'm not sure the sunrise would change anything." Your whisper is almost too low to be audible. And yet you know he's heard it. He sighs heavily, sitting back on his heels.

"I'm sure the hangover would."

His hand finds a stray lock of hair on your face, pushing it behind your ear and then staying right there with it. His forehead leans against yours again, his brows scrunched together like he's fighting something inside himself.

He pushes infinitesimally closer, his nose brushes your cheek and your breath hitches. Your fingers dig into the mattress, your nerves all charged up as you remind yourself this might just be a dream. Might be one of those wisps of the night where he's yours and you're his and there's not an inch of space between you two.

His fingers slide over the back of your neck, tugging at the hair a little, making you moan softly in the back of your throat. "Okay, just this once.", he mumbles, and before his words can click, his lips are on yours. Warm, insistent, almost desperate, his mouth moves languidly against yours in a way that has you melting in his arms. He runs his tongue along your lip, raising himself off his heels so he can press your torsos together, your chests rising and falling in sync.

The heat of his body, the smell of soap and salt on his skin, the light taste of tea on his tongue, everything about him swallows you whole and soon you're drowning, drowning into the vortex that is this man.

Your hands snap into action moments later, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt, your mouth opening under his to let his tongue in. He moans when you pull the hair at his neck, a little harder than you intended, and then he's shifting away again, like he's shot back to reality.

He blinks and then locks his gaze to yours, watching. You stay right there for a long, unending moment, your lip caught in your teeth, his eyes flitting across your face as he catches his breath. And the moment is shattered, fallen in pieces around you.

He leans back on his feet, gently pulling his hands out of yours, the whiplash of this sudden change leaving you stranded. Lost.

His brow creases again, only to splay out into a simple smile in seconds but it doesn't reach his eyes this time. He's reserved now. On guard.

With a short clearing of his throat, he picks your heels off the floor next to him, transferring them to the foot of the bed. "Get some sleep, love.", he says, his words more advisory than affectionate.

You look at the bed, it's empty face staring back at you as cold as the chill settling within your chest. "There's place for two here.", you offer lamely.

But he's already at the door, one hand on the knob. He turns back one last time, something pained in his eyes. "No, I'll have to get back to that thesis.", he smiles. "But you get some rest and we'll talk tomorrow."

He closes his eyes, exhaling forcefully before excusing himself and with a click the door shuts, leaving you alone.

And your heart sinks again.

________

The morning light casts shadows on the walls, the dance of leaves and curtain fabric mesmerizing against the cream of the wallpaper. The first thing you notice when you open your eyes though, is the pressing ache in your temple.

You squeeze your eyes shut and the drinking, the victory party, Raven pouring shots down your throat - it all comes back like a zap.

You groan, trying very, very slowly to shift upright in bed but that course of movement is impeded by an iron clasp around your waist.

Your attention falls to the man asleep next to you, his expression serene as soft breaths whistle out of his lips.

And then you freeze. The rest of the night comes crashing back, the reality of it all settling in like an uncomfortable feeling in your gut. You turn back to look at him, the morning sunshine lighting his face up, ethereal. Your chest hurts a little more, already.

You hold his hand in yours, trying your best to move it off from your waist but his grasp only becomes tighter. He stirs against you, pulling you closer, a soft "hmm" hummed in disapproval. You groan in frustration, the feeling of him too welcoming but the coldness of last night left like a bad taste in your mouth. You press your fingers into your eyes but it does nothing to the growing throb in your forehead.

"Headache?", he mumbles groggily, shooting up onto his elbow to fumble around in his bedside drawer. Before you can even form the words, the pills are out in his hand, a bottle of water in the other.

You take them quietly, downing the meds with silent relief while he leans back into bed. You lie down again not sure what to do with the unresolved moments you've shared a few hours ago. But you decide to let him take the lead. You suppress the headache. And wait.

"Before you ask, I only came here to take a nap.", his hands shoot up in defense as if the sheer idea of waking up next to him must sound like a night mare. You huff, waiting for him to address the obvious.

"We did kiss.", he mumbles. You turn on your side, wanting to take in the slight blush on his cheeks, the stutter in his words as if even thinking about it took him back to your lips on his. "And I'm sorry I didn't stop it. I know you were drunk out of your mind and I should have been the one t-"

"Charles.", you interrupt, your brow furrowed in confusion. But he goes on anyway, the words tumbling out of his mouth like he can't stop them now

"No, because I'm your professor and I shouldn't ever take advantage of you like that-"

"Charles-"

"I hope you can forgive me. It was stupid, stupid, really stupid on my part but maybe I just thought I could kiss you for just one second and I-"

"Charles!", you finally get his attention, his eyes wide, his mouth still parted as if the syllables had evaporated on his tongue the moment he heard your tone.

"Breathe." You're unable to keep the smile from your lips, your fingers threading through the small locks hanging on his neck as he turns to face you as well.

"Yes. Uh, yes. I'm breathing.", he exhales, something resembling a laugh. "But I do mean it. I'm sorry."

"I'm not.", you murmur, your cheeks painted with a crimson similar to his. You wheedle yourself a little closer, breathing the same air in the ever closing gap between your bodies. The doubt, the apprehension is all evident in the look he gives you, eyes searching for the humor in your words. Searching for that sliver of honesty he hoped to find.

"You're... You're not?" His fingers brush the inside of your wrist, holding your hand to his face.

"I like you, Charles. And not in a high-school-crush-on-the-hot-professor way." Your eyes find his again and you realise he's leaning towards you as well. His eyes are on your lips, your heart thudding as his tongue darts out to swipe against his lower lip.

He drags his gaze slowly back to yours and you see that darkness in his eyes, the focus, the raw intensity. Your breath hitches but you force yourself to go on.

"I like you because you're smart. And you're kind. You're selfless. And you make us all feel special without even trying. You made me want to be a part of this cruel, idiotic world, Charles."

You bite your lip in the silence that follows, the urgency of the confession dissipating, not sure how to stop the dying embarrassment about to take your over.

He let's his thumb brush over your chin then, pulling you closer. There's that grin of his again, the cheeky school boy grin that makes you want to kiss his mouth. "So I am the hot professor, huh?", he smirks half way through his words, his breath hot against your lips.

You roll your eyes, hands curling into his shirt collar to pull him flush against you. "Kiss me and we'll find out if that's true."

His lips are on yours before you can finish your line, his smile wide against your own. He's confident now, probing, his tongue sliding against yours like he's known the way these moments would play out, known the way he wanted to make you feel. Known what he wanted if you ever let him in.

His hands slide down your body, pressing you closer with the small of your back, the laughs and grins melting down into soft moans. You run a hand through his hair, the other twisting itself tighter into his vest.

He's breathless when he pulls away, his chest heaving against your own, the sunlight bathing him, making him look annoyingly prettier than always. He runs a finger down your forehead, tapping your nose lightly as he leans in for another peck.

"That hot enough for you, my love?", he murmurs against your lips, your heart still thudding at the endearment, his tongue darting out to run against your mouth.

"No, I think I'm gonna need another try. Just to make sure, you know." You brush your nose against his. He smiles again and it warms your heart to know you were even slightly the cause of his happiness.

"I did always appreciate you attention to detail, love."

[uruncletobi]

jealous Astarion and clever Ilmrae not much more to it ೃ⁀➷ enjoy

“This place makes me run cold, and that’s really saying something.” Karlach shook an invisible chill off of her body as the party sauntered into Reithwin Town. The Shadow-Cursed Land had a sinister air about it but something about this desolate town was particularly grim. The signs of former life decorated the area like a grotesque reminder of all that were taken by the curse. There was no turning a frightful eye, no way of escaping the plight at hand. Even with the large glowing moon lantern, Ilmrae shivered at the thought of dark corners, and necrotic imbued monsters. Both of which the party had plenty of experience with. It had been a couple days since their first arrival at the Last Light Inn and they were beyond tired. Even Ilmrae, leader and under-dark dweller themselves, was ready to see the sun.

“From stinking swap to this nightmarish hell realm-you really do spoil me, darling.” Astarion quipped, batting sarcastic eyes at Ilmrae. They rolled their eyes at his comment.

The Moonrise Towers would not be far off according to Jaheira’s instruction. When they arrived, Ilmrae was not sure what to expect. So, all things considered, Reithwin Town would at least be detour enough to give their fearless leader time to think.

“The Waning Moon?” Karlach read out loud, the dingy sign hanging in front of the building. “What’s say we pop in there?”

“Certainly can’t fair much worse in there, than we already have being out here.” Gale responded

“And maybe there’s booze!” The tiefling beamed, elbowing the wizard a bit harder than she realized.

Ilmrae turned her gaze to Astarion and then back at the tavern, nodding their head towards it like an invitation.

“Great gods-you want to go in there? To do what? Toast to our parasitic infection?” The vampire huffed. “Well, not when you put it that way, no.” Karlach sighed.

“C’mon you undead grouch, lets live a little! Beside’s standing out here is giving the creeps. I wanna go in.” She whined.

Astarion looked at Ilmrae as if to ask for help, to back him up but they were already heading towards the entrance of the bar. “I really am the only one with any sort of eloquence around here.” He exhaled, dragging his feet towards the entrance.

Pushing the main door open, the party was met with an all too familiar odor. Death. Ilmrae quickly took note of several zombie stumbling about the bar. They braced themselves, a green cloud of eldritch energy swirling from their hands.

“Wait.” Karlach said stepping forward. “I don’t think these guys are out to get us. Just let me try something.”

“Karlach-don’t!” Ilmrae hissed. “OI! STINKY!” Karlach bleated, waving her axe around teasingly.

One of the undead patrons lifted it’s head in response. It’s eyes were cloudy with infection, and it’s limbs hung loosely by it’s sides, but it did not approach. It simply cocked it’s head to one side confused and then ambled forward, clearly disinterested in picking a fight with the group.

“Gods Karlach, what was that for?” Ilmrae groused. “Dealt with a zombie or two in my day. Just wanted to make sure they weren’t some super shadow powered freaks.”

“Right because we haven’t run into enough of those, have we?” The vampire mocked. Ilmrae ran a hand through their hair before speaking again but was cut off by the sudden introduction of another voice.

“YOU THERE! COME SIT. DRINK!”

The party peered around the banisters to get a better look at the one charging the thundering orders. Towering behind the bar stood an impressively large undead elf. He wore a haphazardly sewn leather mask that only showed his right eye, and on his back; a massive barrel of mysterious liquid that gurgled with his every move. Apart from his stature the elf was also outstanding in his mass. Each limb appeared waterlogged, swelling beyond its capacity and his stomach bigger still. A deep cavernous suture ran down the length of his gut, either side of it puckered and bruised. With every step he took Ilmrae found themselves bracing for it to break open like a damn, releasing a most foul river of entrails and fermented alcohol.

“SIT. DRINK. TELL TALES!”

Ilmrae eyed the group before cautiously approaching the bar, signaling for the rest of them to stay back. The elf swung his arm backward, elbowing one of the valves on the barrel and it spurted a stream of steaming liquid. A substance Ilmrae was unfamiliar, and quite frankly, uneasy about. “GO ON THEN! DRINK. LET IT BE DRUNK.”

Astarion narrowed his gazed. He didn’t trust the hunk of flesh bartender and feared for a moment that Ilmrae might be so naive as to drink the strange beverage. Ilmrae liked a good time more than the next drow but they weren’t stupid. Drinking that concoction most likely meant turning into one of those cloudy-eyed, undead barflies and they knew better than to accept plain offers from strangers.

The drow grabbed the gauntlet and appeared to throw the drink back with such gusto, it made the entire party’s breath hitch. It was all an act of course. Ilmrae pretended to wince at the strong flavor, before flashing the party a sly grin. Karlach visibly relaxed, prepared to scold them but she was cut off.

“NOW, TELL TALES! GUTS AND GLORY! STEEL AND SEDUCTION.” The undead barkeep tossed back his own serving of the mysterious liquid, stumbling a bit as he spoke. The barrel on his back glugging horribly with it. Ilmrae studied his position, deciding on if they could be a convincing liar in this situation, and if it was a good idea at all.

“C’MON! STORIES, I WANT A GOOD STORY!” The elf slammed his fist on the bar, rattling the entire thing. Ilmrae understood his urgency and began spinning a tale about an unjust ruler. One that ended with him being gutted by his own people. The elf listened silently until the very end. When the drow was finished, he cocked an eyebrow at them. Not completely convinced by the story but entertained nonetheless. “MORE! DRINK. AMUSE ME!”

“Darling! I love your stories as much as the next bloated oaf but don’t you think playtime with the bartender is over?” Astarion gestured at Ilmrae to wrap up the charade. His prominent nose pointed to the sky in annoyance. Someone was getting bored. Ilmrae held the vampires gaze until he was forced to look away, completely vexed. He huffed something about ‘a waste of time’ to Karlach before turning around completely.

In response Ilmrae simulated a long chug of the mystery drink, and started up on their next tale. One that featured themselves as the main character. A quiet night, the moon hanging overhead peering down on the scene below. One where Ilmrae and Karlach find themselves tangled up together in her tent and they didn’t miss a beat. From first kiss to climax, the details were so fleshed out you would have thought it were all true.

“I hear you loud and clear, soldier! You come see me next time you need something to warm you up!” Karlach nudged the vampire playfully, who was clenching his jaw to keep from interjecting as Ilmrae’s story came to an end.

“SPLENDID! MORE. MORE!” The elf chortled dreadfully, while rapping his cup on the table.

“I think we’ve all heard quite enough.” The vampire spat out the last two words, his carmine iris’ whet with jealousy. Ilmrae stood up from the bar, meeting Astarion’s gaze. “Very creative, I didn’t know you had such an impressive imagination.” He sneered as he turned to join them on their way out.

“NO! DON’T LEAVE! DRINK. STAY.”

The group quickened their pace as they left the tavern, the sound of heavy footsteps, and thick glugging following behind.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When the group finally arrived back at camp, they were still laughing over Ilmrae’s storytelling escapade; Karlach throwing around half serious seductions, and Gale recounting the tale with shakespearian eloquence. Ilmrae had tried to downplay their teasing, seeing how Astarion had spent the entire trip home, silent. By the time they arrived he hadn’t even bid any of them good night, not even his companion. In fact he moved with such swiftness, the drow had not noticed until the others turned in shortly after.

“My dove,” Ilmrae cooed, peeling the front of the tent back. “Not poking around Karlach’s tent tonight, I see. What changed your mind? Enlighten me.” He said sharply. Each syllables curled around his lips like they were refusing to leave him. He was cold and appeared completely disinterested despite his words.

“Astarion,” They paused, getting on their knees to meet his far off gaze. “I have only, and always wanted you.” Ilmrae reached their hand to cradle the vampires chin, but was met with a larger gap between them as he leaned away their touch. “No,” He sighed, his eyes narrow beneath his brow. Ilmrae’s stomach dropped, and for a moment, could sworn they were falling. “Prove it.” “What?” They whispered.

“I said, prove it.” The vampire leaned in, nipping softly at their neck. Ilmrae’s concern slid of their face, revealing a new expression. “As you wish.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“You wound me, Astarion.” Karlach gripped her chest, feigning a gruesome death. “I really thought I had a chance for a moment there.” Astarion stood confidently, chest puffed and hands gesturing about. Ilmrae smiled as they emerged from his tent to join the two. “Gods! There you are! I gotta tell you soldier, I haven’t heard sounds like that since I was in Avernus.”

A thick blush covered Ilmrae’s face, but they didn’t turn away. The drow beamed at their lover. “What can I say, he’s a really really great storyteller.”

Astarion grinned, clearly feeling fully satiated by the whole scenario. There was nothing he loved more than a clean victory, the idea that everyone in camp was more assured than ever, that Ilmrae was his, and he was theirs.

[ai-the-broccoli]

I DIDN'T NOTICE YOU RB'D THE DEATH NOTE ASK MEME uhhh. 23 and 24 maybe?

ooooh thanks!!!

23. what was your favorite moment and why?

"oooh that's a very hard question" ...is what I might've said, if this wasn't the light yagami animanga series and light yagami makes me insane. uhhh. I do have several though, if that's allowed.

(update: when I said "several" I meant uh. a lot apparently. whoops)

favourite line / favourite moment in a "holy wow this is amazing thematically": the. y'know. "Tell me, Light, from the moment you were born, have you ever told the truth?" line in the anime rain scene. yeah. holy fuck that is amazing because I LOVE that sort of thing. as far as character traits go, there's like nothing I love more than characters that are liars who lie lyingly (multiple types of this apply). it's truly, truly the best.

favourite moments based on what I repeatedly rewatched immediately following my first watch of the anime: there are, uh. three (in no particular order)

light goes home from the entrance ceremony, incredibly stone-faced (like 😐) the entire way -> gets home, gets up the stairs, opens the door, shuts the door, sits down on his chair, suddenly starts shaking -> blows up "Dammit! He got me! Damn L! I have never been so humiliated in my life!" (even Ryuk comments internally that he's never seen him lose his composure so much) -> suddenly laughs and calms down talking about how it's a battle of wits now and he'll make L trust him and kill him, with his own hands if necessary. i rewatched this several times in a row which was definitely very normal of me.

look at him. grumpy but in like an extremely restrained way (his face is even hidden). until it breaks completely in the next page lol

the last episode. light trying so hard not to laugh/smirk in the warehouse, then he reveals himself as kira (a lot of laughing), and he loses and falls pathetically, shouting for kiyomi and mikami and misa after matsuda shoots him, and then runs in the beautiful sunset, passing his younger high school self by, and seeing a vision of L before he dies on the stairs. all this is great and i did an immediate rewatch of this episode after finishing it

the Relight scene where Light laughs on top of L's grave soil. it's conceptually fucked up in an amazing way that really really appeals to me. murder and grave desecration are really romantic/beautiful/erotic on principle.

as you can see I am very normal. as you can see I am a very normal Light Yagami fan. one of those two statements may be unironically true, but the two statements inherently cannot go together. anyway this particular selection of scenes totally doesn't actually say anything about me right but anyway I'm right those are totally the best please torture light some more everyone

favourite moments I didn't immediately repeatedly rewatch/reread like that but are still my absolute top favourites:

The entire first episode because DAMN did it hook me completely very, very fast. I did NOT know there was going to be Faustian contract + god complex&general big ego + everything else in one in this little and very infamous character known as "Light Yagami". my expectations were blown instantly and I got obsessed with DN right away

L and Light declaring war on each other over the live broadcast and L asking and taunting Light/Kira to kill him. amazing. it was really... gay. sorry I can't think of a better word lmfao

L's death scene oh my god. GOD I loved (and was really really amazed/impressed by by) Light rushing to him at once and basically lying on top of him for a second, so that he will die in his arms. GOD. it is SO. like yeah this is literally my favourite sort of thing holy shit it is amazing (it's to gloat to him and to declare victory before his death, and it's to pretend to the Task Force too, and yet it seemed like such an instinctual reaction really that I think his first instinct really IS to hold him in his arms before he dies. this is really good). and the dramatic performance afterwards. I love it

on a COMPLETELY different note. JESUS CHRIST I love Soichiro's death scene actually. because holy fuck the multi-layered irony. I really love it. actually I think I wrote about that scene long before I even really wrote anything else about DN. alright here:

idk if I still 100% agree with my initial impression but it should still overall hold and MAN. I definitely loved it (<- fan of irony) (<- extremely, extremely normal Light Yagami fan) (<- fan of Soichiro also, to a lesser extent)

favourite moment that gave me a lot of thoughts when I'm reading the manga: (even though I already first watched the anime and this stuff is also in the anime)

the moment where Rem is like "okay I will kill L" and Light, person who has been plotting this exact murder for ages, is like. Oh shit. he'll die...? which is. man. Light sure is Light

like look at his face here!

favourite manga-exclusive moments:

Light not considering killing Sayu. Light asking Soichiro to promise him to come back alive with Sayu. that scene afterwards where Soichiro is at home thinking he should die. (at least I think those weren't in the anime?)

the manga ending is also good

I like that the manga tells us he lost weight and has nightmares due to using the death note. (it possibly has happened to anime light too but we don't get to see it)

not a "favorite moment" exactly, but while the scene is beautiful I don't like Misa dying in the end despite how much I adore everything else in that episode, so I like that Misa doesn't canonically die like that in the manga

favourite anime-exclusive moments:

rain scene and footwashing scene yes obviously

everything about Light being "haunted" after L's death. aside from the aforementioned Light dying scene, I really like the anime

I love the anime ending too

also hmm this might be a less popular opinion, but personally I also love some of anime Light's characterization tidbits that differs from the manga (e.g. first episode). I would say it's because it's maybe very slightly more relatable for me but that probably sounds wack lmao so

favourite moments based on how comedic I find them: (not including ones I already included in other sections) DN is such an amazing comedy I'm not even kidding

the whole handcuffs thing oh my god. homophobic misa moment. I didn't think she'd actually call him gay, but there it was. also just fken. buddy. L??????? why and how and in what world was there an absolute need for this totally normal, totally appropriate, absolutely most safe and most ideal method of interrogating criminals. I was laughing because god. that's not even. yeah okay I'm happy with it but LMFAO YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS. and Light just easily went along with it

the... the... first date scene. I was like oh my god c'MON you two. I didn't think something like this would be so like this in the actual canon manga. first date where Misa is being thirdwheeled while Light and L sit together chained together and then they focus all energy on talking to each other and then they get into a fist fight (date activity) all over the room. combined with the later dunking on matsuda. this is LITERALLY how a fucking sitcom goes at this point.

the anime's footwashing also. not the scene itself necessarily but just the fact that it fucking exists between lawlight and is. Like THAT????? lmfao like what the hell

ALSO the. fken. Matsuda fake death scene lmfao it was so wack in retrospect

live Ryuk reactions + "hey Light can we play Mario Golf? can we play Mario Golf Light? come on let's play a match of Mario Golf"

man I can't even include all of it here because Light Yagami is so entertaining to me in 85%+ of all the scenes she appears in in one way or another like his existence itself is peak entertainment to me. it's entertaining when Light is humiliated and it's entertaining when he's succeeding. and like I mean, he's the protagonist of the whole manga / show, and I mean I can't list every moment in the series can I. lmao

favourite moments that don't have light yagami in it: I'm sorry everyone else but I am especially obsessed with light. as you can see. however I love many other characters too

Kiyomisa dinner kiyomisa fighting !!!

(technically this includes light but) matsuda shooting light

misa being unexpectedly smart (compared to her wider reputation) (the higuchi car scene! and others) is also nice

idk if it makes sense but. the scene where Rem and Misa mention the way a Shinigami can die, and Misa admits to thinking about killing Rem like it's. just very Neat. I like the vibes here and Misa is very beautiful (related to the dialogue about love and killing. yeah)

also!! I love the meronia moments

and then I recently got myself into soichello so actually yeah. the soichiro mello scenes too. very good

24. any headcanons you want to share?

uhhhhhhhhhhh hmmm. man what's a headcanon I haven't properly shared on tumblr before, and also isn't like a take that is shared and often discussed by tons of people around here already?

... fine okay let's do this finally.

neurodivergence + mental illnesses headcanons

[disclaimer: please read this post first. if you disagree, you can skip over this and skip to the next section!]

aside from OCD and autism, imo Light has NPD with some ASPD traits, and also bipolar. this is because the way his mental illnesses are is like. I feel represented lol. (not as in I have every one of those things I listed, but I probably have some/most of them, and the combinations are interesting). even though this is unfortunately Light Yagami. but I really like him for that too tbh because man. I don't get to see that stuff often. (like idk how to explain it. even though I'd never even remotely pull that kinda stuff because of differences in personalities, values, background, abilities, and manifestation and degree of symptoms, etc. however some of his mannerisms sometimes feel right on point e.g. I feel like the way he is like sometimes gives me depression + hypomanic/manic vibes, in a way where I can see myself in him if it makes sense lmao)

on that note Misa 100% very BPD I agree. I wanna say on top of autism, L also seems to have some ASPD traits imo. Near is autistic but I think that goes without saying lol. Mello has like... C-PTSD and/or NPD. and then this probably not a very unexpected take, but Matsuda has ADHD or audhd vibes. OH and! Soichiro also very much has OCD and autism, imo.

other headcanons:

not a hot take, but Mello and Near are both nonbinary and/or genderqueer (and/or otherwise trans, if not applicable) to me (could be transmasc or transfem, not necessarily transneutral; I could see either or any direction among those, although I would say I lean toward seeing Near as transfem and/or nonbinary, and Mello as transmasc and/or genderqueer).

Light is demi, and has had a covert superiority complex about not feeling attraction unlike his peers (like. you can view him deciding to use porn mag reading to prove himself as a normal teenage boy as indicative of his subconscious? mental association of his more "normal" peers as, like.... unfortunate horny perverts. in a way. if that makes sense) I know how it feels because I was kinda like this in grade 6-8

man I definitely have other ideas too but I'm drawing a blank at the moment partly because it's late and I still haven't eaten lunch lmao. I will continue to post my thoughts and headcanons in the future, so tune in by clicking on the subscribe butto- *gets shot*

ask game

[subwayfloorlicker1978]

every single time i try to speculate on what jax’s “big bad secret” is going to be revealed as later in the story i get stuck. repeatedly.

like okay. if you haven’t noticed, goose has been foreshadowing this like a lot. the little detail of jax having keys that can open any door that seems a LITTLE too specific for it to just be a one-off thing. the clear implication that jax’s room is supposed to hold a secret of some kind (cough the pins). on her list of content warnings for tadc she literally put “jax” as one of the warnings. (presumably as a half joke but she’s very monotone so im not really sure.) apparently he “likes a lot of things he’s not willing to admit”, which is ominous as hell?? his dynamic with pomni is MESSY now apparently.

so my guess is that he’s going to do something absolutely, completely unforgivable in the future. or something really bad happens related to him or something idk. SOMETHING related to him contains dark themes, but the more i think about how the environment of the digital circus works, the more confusing it gets.

like. okay well he can’t exactly kill any of his castmates so that’s sort of out of the question. can he make someone abstract? possibly. maybe that’s what happened to queenie… but i think the rest of the cast would be WAY more unforgiving/cold to him if that actually happened. so probably not. i think with what we know now, maybe he could realistically set caine off so badly that it results in like… super dire consequences. like maybe the world starts glitching out and makes someone abstract bc of it or something. eyedeekay!

it’s also difficult too bc there’s so much we still don’t really know about the circus. like before episode 3 we had absolutely no idea that caine’s emotional state affected the “structural integrity” of the circus i guess.

also… and i know people are gonna disagree with me on this… i do not think we know enough about jax to have an “in character” image of him in our heads. like yeah his surface level traits are there but we really don’t know a lot about him. like at all. i think the closest we’ve ever been shown to “the real jax” (excluding the crumbs that goose has given us) are those scenes in episode 1 where he breaks character a little bit and looks super tired as if he’s putting up a facade. which i DO think he is, it’s just that his motivations are super important too and we’re completely unaware of what he’s actually planning on doing later on….

also extra note before i finish my silly rant. goose said on twitter that she saw a piece of fanart for tadc that mirrors something that happens later on in the story and ive seen quite a few pieces on the tumblr front page for the #tadc hashtag that depict jax abstracting …so. idk if its gonna happen though teehee. okay bye guys.

[may--hawk]

I love you (mixtape)

And the bastard walks by, and the bastard walks by / Say it to him fifty times and still the bastard won’t cry

Crowley’s in some run-down gin bar clinging to the outer reaches of the London docks like a pustule sometime in the mid-1970s. It reminds him of the gin palaces he used to go to back at the end of the last century, back when he’d trawl around and drink warm gin and incite sins until London was near-frenzied with it because there was nothing else for him to do in this fucking city, this shithole. The bar’s not so different now: less wool, more polyester, less - although not none - public urination, more women. It’s dim in here, two in the afternoon and dark as the tomb, shadowed as a mausoleum in Edinburgh, and all around him the same desperate scrabble to get ahead as he’d felt in Elspeth, humans clawing their way up with their nails and teeth only to slip back down into the grave decades later. It doesn’t matter, none of it does. The air’s thick with nicotine, Crowley inhaling a pack of smokes with every breath. He’s done a few lines, and he hums, his atoms the same frequency as a star’s - Rigil Kentaurus, to be exact. He’s sitting next to a man he doesn’t like very much, but he doesn’t like a lot of humans, really. Aziraphale would say really, do you insist on seeing the worst in them - ? But Aziraphale doesn’t know what it’s like, does he, all white clouds and sunbeams and holy grace. The man’s useful to Crowley, so Crowley hunches over his glass of gin and turns to the man and lays out his expectations. He’s setting up a drug caper, a big one, involving a few first-world governments and third-world countries and second-world middle-men. The trickle-down effect should net hundreds of thousands of souls for Hell for a century to come. Maybe more. The rest is up to them, the humans. It always is, really. The bar stinks of avarice and desperation and bodies sweating in polyester; it’s thick in the air; it’s like perfume to Crowley, like hookah smoke, he takes it in, heady and deep, and grins, a sharp flash he catches in the mirror.

The door opens, then. A ray of light shafts in, mid-afternoon light, the kind that doesn’t come inside these sorts of places, isn’t welcomed, but comes in it does, and the light falls on the bar mirror, dusty and streaked, falls on - behind Crowley, just coming in - a head of perfect white curls. Crowley freezes. Crowley’s mouth parts, he can see it in the mirror, like he’s going to ask Aziraphale, what are you doing here, angel, you don’t belong here. It’s true: Aziraphale shines. He doesn’t belong here. Except Aziraphale belongs everywhere, Crowley thinks. He has the holy assurance of God. He can walk into a lion’s den, into a cathouse, across the open trenches of a great war. What’s a cheap gin bar in the face of Aziraphale’s God-granted assurance? Aziraphale takes it all in at a flash: Crowley draped over the bar, the look of sin, of a snake, slit-eyed, waiting to strike. Takes in Crowley’s wiles, his machinations. Takes in the measure of the man next to him, neatly and finally. The angel breathes in, short and sharp, an expansion of his chest, and his mouth twists in a small moue of disgust. He meets Crowley’s eyes, shakes his head once, and turns on his heel and leaves.

It’s happened, again and again - Aziraphale’s got this idea of Crowley, and it’s wrong, it’s wrong. Crowley’s a demon. When he says he’s not nice, he fucking means it. And yet Aziraphale has the nerve to - every time he comes across Crowley tempting someone, or wiling, or doing something evil or wicked or bad or wrong - to turn that look of disgust on Crowley. Of disappointment. As if Crowley has, again and again, failed to live up to his standards. Aziraphale’s even done temptations himself; little ones, surely, but temptations all the same. And the kicker of it all, what really takes the biscuit, is that Aziraphale’s not nice either. He’s a rotten bastard just like Crowley. Even worse, in some ways, with the hypocrisy and the gluttony and the lust, oh, don’t think Crowley doesn’t notice it, the little looks, the way his hand had lingered on Crowley’s in 1787 in the ballroom when they’d been presented for the first time - joke’s on the humans, Crowley knows Aziraphale down to his rotten squalid little core. Or the way he’d pushed into the same cab with Crowley in 1814 even though there really wasn’t room for the two of them, how they’d pressed together side to thigh to arm, brushing with every sway and jolt of the carriage, Aziraphale’s breath coming fast and harsh, and Crowley could feel him quivering with it, the lust, and he’d known if he’d only turned and knotted his hand in Aziraphale’s hair and pulled his mouth to him, if he’d reached over and pushed his hand between his thighs, the angel would open up to him, would make the sweetest little noises, that the very Heavens and Earth would shake with it -

And sure, Crowley’s worse with the other sins, with avarice and sloth and despair, but Aziraphale’s not perfect, he’s not good, he’s only playing a part, and so what right does he have to turn those eyes on Crowley, dark and disappointed, what right does his gaze have to linger over Crowley in the mirror and then drop to the ground, and turn away, as if unable to continue to bear witness?

Aziraphale blows him off for the next three months: declining invitations to dinner, avoiding his calls and returning them only two or three days later. I’m sorry, Crowley, I’ve been dreadfully busy, as if Crowley hadn’t been by the shop five or six times and hadn’t seen Aziraphale just sitting at his desk with a book in his hands staring off into space. And that stings too, as if Crowley’s not worth the pain of an honest answer. But then again, the angel’s never been honest. Another demerit. When the angel feels, apparently, that Crowley’s done his penance, he agrees to meet Crowley for dinner at a new Greek place around the corner, and they go, and Crowley’s a perfect little angel, isn’t that a joke, even smiling at the waiter, not wiling one bit. Aziraphale watches him a bit like a wild animal, nervous little side glances that settle into a near-smile over the dessert course. And because the angel’s a creature of indulgence, has been ever since Crowley’d seen that want in him and offered him that platter of meat, he asks Crowley back to the shop, hesitating as he does so, as if he shouldn’t allow the foul beast in, and Crowley says yes, sauntering, slipping in, widening the crack, because he is weak too, just as weak as Aziraphale, but in other ways.

And Aziraphale knows this all about himself too, knows his failings, because he’s clever, always has been, and he still has the nerve to pretend, to hide, to lie, and so Crowley saunters into the shop and sprawls on the sofa across from Aziraphale in his tight leather pants and his tight red satin shirt unbuttoned just so. Because he had been created for this: to wheedle and to tempt and to pry, to crack things open and work at them; it’s why he had been cast down and how he had wormed his way back up again to the light. And he’s a demon, he’s not nice, he’s wicked and evil and cruel and twisted, and so he pushes, he digs and digs and digs, spreads his legs wide, spills a little wine on the corner of his lips and licks it off, turns his head to Aziraphale, takes his glasses off, and he watches Aziraphale’s face get more and more flushed, not just from the wine, not anymore, watches him loosen his holy bowtie, watches him start to sweat, watches his eyes, dark and darting and miserable. And then when he’s got him worked up to a fever pitch, can feel it ringing through the air like a struck bell, he gets up, hips first, slinks over to the kitchenette for another bottle, and when he passes Aziraphale’s chair he puts a hand on the angel’s shoulder as if to steady himself, the angel so hot and solid under his palm, and he slides his hand across the slope of the angel’s shoulder, two fingers ending up just inside his collar on the hot smooth skin, and he leans down, Aziraphale’s corporation’s heartbeat thundering in time with his own, and he whispers in Aziraphale’s ear, “Want more, angel?”

Aziraphale chokes, a great big gasp of air wheezing through his chest like it’s being constrained by a great big coiled serpent. “More - yes - more wine - please-” he holds out his glass, waves it, though it’s still half-full, even spills on the floor, but Aziraphale doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes, Crowley can see from this close, are squeezed tightly shut, his eyelashes pressed firmly to his cheeks. Crowley reaches his other hand out - which means he reaches around him, a near embrace - slides his fingertips along Aziraphale’s bare wrist, exposed by his sleeve, tangling with the angel’s fingers. Aziraphale’s pulse hammers in his neck. He plucks the glass from the angel’s hand. A silent whimper from Aziraphale, the heave of his chest. Then Crowley saunters off to the kitchenette to pour them each another glass. He can feel the pain and lust rolling off Aziraphale, stronger than any cathouse, thick as bar-smoke, dark as smog back in coal-burning London, those long decades when the air was thick and gray and choking and there was no shelter for Crowley, no relief, no soft yellow space to be invited into and breathe deep and fresh. From here, he can see Aziraphale’s reflection in the window above his desk, pale and bright and holy against the dark night. Can see how Aziraphale’s got his fist pressed to his mouth, biting down on a knuckle. Crowley bets when he goes back in and hands the glass to Aziraphale there’ll be teeth marks in his flesh, deep indentations, the mark of sin. Aziraphale’s face is twisted, nearly sobbing, wracked with pain and lust, because he’s an angel, he’s good, he’s holy, he’s not supposed to lust, can’t do it without great pain, and Crowley, watching him, his own breath coming fast, faster, can’t breathe, feels something welling in him, thick and choking, and he thinks, tell me you feel it, angel, tell me you feel the same thing I do.

Read the rest of the mixtape on AO3.

[bardic-inspo]

I am in such a "no write, only have written" mood 😶

I think I'm struggling a little because the scene feels played out in my head and my brain is jumping ahead to imagine the climax of the story, even though this bit will be brand new to any reader and we like. Need the build up to make the rest of it good. 😶

Also this chapter is a slower-paced character bonding moment which is a needed breather from a few back-to-back high tension chapters. But I keep worrying I gotta like. Throw a jump scare in there or something. For pizzazz.

[soni-dragon]

Never ever EVER buy household appliances with ai in them. Most ridiculous things I’ve ever encountered

[screamingay]

somehow these current roommates we have are the worst that ive known yet and last semester we literally had a girl who smoked cigs IN her bedroom. list of grievances below lol

[nishiyako]

After A Long Day (NSFW)

Paring : Kenji Sato x Reader

Tags : Doggy style, Vaginal penetration, Make outs, praise , after care, Fluffy ending, Reader has some type of long hair, established Relationship, Kenji has some sort of complex.

Summary : After a long day of work, Kenji comes home to his lovely girlfriend with a surprise, merch she got of his jersey. Seeing his name and player number on you does wonders to his already inflated ego.

Kenji Sato was everywhere, his face and name of hundreds of billboards and products, it dose something to someone's ego.

He loved the support from fans, the attention from media but most importantly, he loved coming home from a long day of interviews, events, and partiess to you.

Simple and lovable you.

He parked his bike outside before entering his mansion, placing his helmet and keys on the dinner table before seeing you sitting in the living room on your phone while the TV was running.

He made his way over to you, your eyes looked up from your phone screen to see him suddenlt infront of you, you can't lie that you got a little startled but you were more happy he was back before it got too late,

He bends down and plants a soft kiss on your forehead, tucking a stray strand of hair away from your face in the process. He sits beside you as he unzips his biker jacket, "whatcha' watching?" He asks, wondering what's got you so focused this late at night, throwing his jacket to the end of the couch promising himself he'll clean it up later, throwing his arm around your shoulder, pulling himself closer.

"It's a tie between the TV and my phone if I'm being honest" you giggled placing your phone down, you met his loving gaze, placing your hand on his chest, softly kissing his cheek "how was your day sweetheart?" You asked softly, almost as a way of apologizing on you being so voided.

"Good, busy as always." He said like he was waiting for that question all day, meeting your hand on his chest, moving it, holding it while it rests on his lap "Well, it was mostly interviews and shooting for promotions for the team, after that we had a few drinks."

You listened intently as he got into the details of his day, complaining mostly. Giving your thoughts and opinions whenever he asked.

"That's about it. What did you do the whole day?" He asked after wrapping up his day, "Nothing really, just watched TV and cleaned up here a bit, " you said plainly before you stood up from the couch.

"Something I ordered came in the mail though," you said with a smile on your face. "Yeah? What is it?" He asked, as your smile peaked his intrest.

You took his hand, pulling him over to the bedroom, perverted thoughts alredy entering his mind, thinking you probably ordered some slutty liengre and wanted to show him.

You sat him down on the bed as you escaped into the bathroom, asking him to wait for a moment as you closed the door.

As soon as that door shuts he alredy started imagining what you're gonna walk out wearing, probably wearing something tight and strapy, an idiotic smile alredy appearing on his lips from picturing you in something that small.

But he remembered you weren't the type to get something like that, maybe a new dress? Something light for summer. His past thoughts still lingering no matter how cute the dress would be, imagining just lifting it over your hips and fucking you dumb.

His hands covered his red tinted face from just imagening it, sexual frustration just from you keeping him in suspense, "Ken? You ready?" Your voice through the door snapping him back to reality "Huh? Yeah, yeah." He said, a slight stutter from his voice.

You creecked the door open, as he took a deep breath, he opened his eyes.

You wore an oversized jearsy with his team's name on it, it looked simple enough, He thought it was cute, swing you show support for his team, practicly his second family.

Until you turned around, moving your hair to the side and there he saw it, a big 7 and his last name on your back.

You couldn't miss it either, it was right there, black bold lettering on the thin white fabric. You walked closer to him as his eyes were fixated on the way it hugged your body and how your thighs were peaking of out of the fabric just bearly.

Straddling his lap as he still couldn't find the strength to move a muscle, until he did.

His shaky hand going under the jersey, rubbing your bare hip, as you kissed him, your hands running through his hair as his hands creeped up your thigh looking for some panties to pull down, truely a perfect way to end his day he thought.

A giggle exits your mouth as he pulled away from the kiss, a puzzled look on his face before he felt you push him down on the bed snapping him back to attention suddenly, your mouth alredy leaving marks on his neck eagerly, seeming like the both of you werent even on the same wavelength.

"You arnt gonna find something down there, I'm not wearing anything" you whisper nonchalantly before continuing to attack his neck with kisses and love bites.

Basically hinting the fact that you're weren't wearing panties.

"You planned this didn't you" he breathed out

Is eyebrows widen in suprise, he takes a mintue sinking it it before accepting his fate before he layed back with stupid smirk, enjoying the free hickies while he undid his jeans.

In a few minutes you found yourself under him, the jersey just slightly above your midriff, his eyes widened. Holy shit, you really weren't wearing anything under that.

His signiture grin on his face as he pulled down his jeans just above his thighs, he swore he saw hearts in your eyes when you felt him press against you.

He had a feeling you've been pent up for a while, he was just too busy to do anything about it, until now ofcourse.

You felt him pick you up and made you lay on your stomach, pulling your hips right against him, feeling him throb in-between your legs, so close yet so far from where you realy wanted it, you felt his hand grip onto the flesh of your hips.

He leaned down, closing the distance between you two, his chest right against your back and his lips millimeters away from your ear "Feel that? All for you babe." He said in a husky tone, right against your ear, a grin on his lips after hearing a whine come out of your mouth hearing those words.

Your body jolted, feeling something familiar prod inside you, His mouth still right against your ear, not changing a single thing. you heard his breath hitch everytime he gets deeper.

Your body shivered from the feeling, you've missed this. You've both missed this.

He held your hands over your head, pressing them against the bed sheets as he gently bucked his hips, moving carefully feeling how tight you were around him yet taking him so well.

He was taking it in, fucking his perfect girlfriend, having her perfect voice loud enough to echo around the house, thanking his perfect self he got a place far from anyone else.

He got to have you, all to himself, after a long work day, wearing a jersey with his name on it.

With his name on it.

He let's go of your hands remembering something, one of them holding you by your hips, rutting in and out of you while the other one tucks your hair to the side of your shoulder, revealing the back design of his last name and player number on your back.

Shit, he felt so egotistical and narcissistic but this was better than any kind of liengre or sundress you could ever buy.

Looked like a scene from a wet dream he could've had.

You felt him pick up the pace, started moving aimlessly yet his tip kept rubbing the perfect spongey spot inside you. Your voice started raising, getting louder than it always was, not like you could say anything from your fucked out state.

His muscles started to tense, getting lost into he feeling of being inside you, spitting out praise.

"You're doing great baby," or "you look so fucking good for me." He'd coo, with just saying how much he loves you, and parts of you like how your hair was a mess, how perfect it looked when his cock would disappear inside you, or just worshiping your ass.

And most importantly that desperate arch on your back, only making it easier for him to hit that sweet spot over and over again.

The room being filled with the sound of moans, skin slapping against skin and the creaking of the bedframe. Laser focused on the overwhelming feeling of your walls around him, fluids dripping down your thigh, staining the bed sheets.

"Fuckk, Kenji, Kenji!" you cried out, making him stutter in his thrusts, hearing his name escape your lips a few times.

Hundreds, thousands, even millions of fans have cried out his name but nothing was quite like that one.

He kept going, this time with quicker, more feverish thrusts making you start to babbel words, "Whyd you stop?" He teased "cmon, who do you belong to?" He said, a sinister laugh following his remark.

"You" you breathed out still being thrusted in and out to, "names baby, I'm gonna need names." He said in a faux pity tone, you didn't even have to turn around to know he had the biggest, dumbest smile on his face right now.

You melted in his grip, you moaned his name again with more passion, feeding that ego of his. Knowing only he was the one making you feel like this, the leg trembling, spot hitting, eye watering kind of sex.

With his player number and last name on your back, he was thinking of finnishing inside and starting a family alredy, making you really his.

But that would be a bit too much to baby trap you, he knew you weren't going anywhere.

Seeing his last name on your back just drove him crazy, sining in the thought that one place, one day, that's gonna be yours too.

He wakes up from his baby fever trance to your voice "Fuck, Kenji... I'm so fucking close" you curse out, your hand meeting his, his other one continually making you bounce against him.

His spare hand layers over yours, holding it against the bedsheets, as he closes the distance once more, his lips right against hers, "Go on, you've earned it." He says before buying his face into the crook of your neck.

At that moment, you started seeing stars

He feels your walls tightening around him and you moan out his name for the final time. Seeing your body tense up and legs shake for him was something he would never forget the feeling of, knowing how good he made you feel never gets old.

His thrusts slow down as you come down from your high. He pulls out stroking his shaft a few times to the view of your fucked out body, using the white opaque liquid as lube, spilling his warm seed onto your curves, some hitting the new jersey by accident.

"Shit, you might want to wash it now." He laughed, you were too tired to make a comment on him alredy cumming on your new jersey.

Minutes pass, maybe around an hour. You see your loving boyfriend bring you your favorite tea "still sore?" He asked, "just a bit.." you reply back.

Now in a new pair of clothes and him snuggling up to you in bed, turning on the TV and putting on both your favorite series.

Truley, the perfect way to end both your days.

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A/N : Haven't posted in a hot minute, I know. Sorry to my followers, I know this is something new, but I swear the bnha fics r coming, there somewhere in my files 😭

A/N : Those who've read in in the first 13 hours actually pointed out there was a typo, so thank you for that <3. I'll try to spell check more diligently since I mostly only write late at night <33

[clownwritesfanfic]

So Come One, Come All - Five Hargreeves X GN! Reader

Summary: After you find out that your husband of 40 years cheated on you with his own brother’s wife, you give up on figuring out how to fix the apocalypse and run off. That’s when you’re lead to a suspicious deli full of the exact face you never wanted to see again.

Word count: 1647

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Cheating, Heartbreak, Happy Ending, rushed writing, not beta read we die like men

Disclaimer: Five is canonically in the body of an 18 year old in this season. Not to mention he aged like 7 more years with Lila. Also, obvious Season 4 spoilers. This season was awful and Five was done so dirty and he’s still ooc in this fic (or at least a version of him is)

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You had no idea how long you had been walking for. All you knew was that you were tired.

Tired of everything. Of the constant apocalypses, the fighting, the stress, …the lying, the heartache. Everything.

You had to get away from that place. You couldn’t stand to be around anyone from that family anymore. Around…him.

You and Five have been married for forty years. You both met in the first apocalypse as teens. You weren’t special like him or his siblings but you were both grateful to have someone else around.

You slowly fell in love over the years as you grew older together. You had a makeshift marriage with a ring Five had made for you out of random bits of metal he had found.

You had both been recruited into the Commission together and quickly became the most badass couple in the entire organization. You were always put on missions together for your efficiency and speed.

You had followed Five back in time to see his family, consequently getting stuck in your younger body as well. You followed him everywhere. You would’ve given your life for him.

So, how could he do this to you?

Forty years, thrown away all because he supposedly got stuck for seven fucking years in a stupid timeline traveling subway station with another woman.

You wanted to kill him. He knew that you didn’t like how comfortable Lila was with him since the beginning and he had assured you he wasn’t interested in her at all and that you were all he wanted. What a load of bullshit that was.

You had left after their explanation. You saw the way he looked at her. The exact same way he used to look at you. For him at had been years since he last saw you. For you, it had only been a few hours since he last looked at you like you were the world.

You had slipped off the wedding ring and threw it at his face before leaving. You could hear him trying to get you to stay and try to follow you but he was stopped by Diego.

You were so lost in thought before you found yourself in front of the entrance to a subway station. This must be the one they were talking about. You looked behind you, making sure no one had followed you but also as a way to look back on this life.

If they were telling the truth about the timelines…then you weren’t going to be coming back to this one. Maybe there is a timeline where you’re happy. One where you and Five don’t meet. Or maybe one where none of this happens. Where you’re both a normal married couple.

You took a deep breath as you gazed down the steps. Once you took your first step down, you knew there was no going back.

As you descended the steps, the eerie silence unnerved you. You could hear only your footsteps on the ground and the squeaking of the turnstile as you pushed through it.

You were startled by the sound of the speakers playing some sort of announcement. It was impossible to understand considering it was all backwards.

Soon, the subway entered the station and came to a halt. The doors opened and you stood still, you were still a little creeped out. Five always made you feel more comfortable in situations like this…but he wasn’t here anymore.

You swallowed your unease and entered the subway car. You slowly took a seat and looked around before the doors closed and the subway started moving. You looked out the window as flashes of colour went by.

You were there for a couple minutes before you stopped. The doors opened but you didn’t get up. You weren’t sure if you wanted to get off yet. You wanted to be sure you were as far from the timeline you were just in as possible.

You felt something pull inside of you though. Something wanted you to get off and explore. So you did.

You let yourself be guided by this feeling deep inside. It was like your heart was pulling you somewhere.

It isn’t long until you end up in front of a building of some kind. Could you even call it that? You never left the station and it’s the only other place in here. Is it more of a building in a building? You didn’t want to think about it too much.

The words “Max’s Delicatessen” were shining brightly in your face. You were a little amused. Maybe you were hungry and it was actually your stomach bringing you here rather than your heart.

You sighed and decided to check it out.

But when you entered, you were horrified at what you saw.

The entire deli was full of copies of your (now ex) husband. This was the last thing you wanted to see and you internally cursed at your conscious for bringing you here.

You could feel your heartbeat pick up and your breathing become heavy as tears pricked at your eyes.

Finally, one of the Five’s had looked up and noticed you stuck in place at the door.

“Darling!” He shot up out of his seat, audibly hitting his knee on the table but he didn’t flinch.

Suddenly, every single Five in the place had his eyes on you, each with various emotions displayed on their face.

The Five that spotted you quickly made his way over to you. He lifted his shaking hands and held them over your cheeks, too scared to make contact in case you fade away.

You could see the disbelief and love in his eyes. This snapped you out of your confusion and slapped his hands away from you and backed yourself up into the door.

The Five in front of you looked confused and hurt before sighing and lowering his hands.

“Sorry…I forgot that you’re not the same one.” He apologized.

“What the FUCK is going on?” You exclaimed as you looked around to be met with all the Five’s still staring at you. “How did you get here? Why are there multiples of you? Why can’t you just leave me alone!”

“Woah, woah, slow down. Breathe. You’re okay. Everything’s fine.” The Five in front of you tried to calm you down. “You took the subway right? This is a different timeline. We’re all the same person from different timelines. Usually the only new people that enter here are a version of me…or…us I guess. You’re the only…well…you, that has shown up here.” He explained.

“What?” You looked at him like he was crazy.

“They should sit down.” Another Five had said.

“Come on, hun. Come sit down and we can talk.” He had reached out towards you, careful not to touch you while he guided you towards the opposite end of the booth he was previously at.

You sat down, still in shock. It felt weird being surrounded by so many Five’s. Especially when you were trying to get away from him.

“I guess I’ll start.” Five had sat down across from you and sighed.

“In my timeline, you and I had been together for years. We met at the Commission. At first we hated each other but we were always put on missions together. Over time…I had fallen for you, and luckily for me, you reciprocated those feelings. We were together romantically for years. We were on our last mission before our contract with the Commission ended. We were planning on getting married after and retiring somewhere nice. But…it went wrong…and I lost you. You died in my arms.” He looked off to the side and tried to play off wiping away his tears.

“I haven’t seen you in years. You’re just as beautiful as the day I lost you.” He reached a hand across the table and gently placed it on yours.

You teared up as you saw the pure love in his eyes. Your Five used to look at you like that and it still hurt knowing he no longer felt that way.

“If you’re here…then something must’ve happened to the Five in your timeline.” He rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand.

You stilled and took your hand back, making the Five in front of you frown.

You hugged your torso for comfort and curled in on yourself slightly as you looked down at the table.

“We were married for forty years…but he got stuck in the subway with Lila and…I guess forty years didn’t mean anything because in seven years he threw it all away for…her.” You hiccuped as you tried to hold back your tears.

There were multiple grumbles and scoffs around the deli.

The Five across from you reached across the table and held your shoulder gaining your attention.

“Everyone here had a version of you in their timeline. We all lost you in one way or another. I think I speak for all of us when I say…having you here is the best thing to happen to us, and he’s a complete idiot for throwing you away like that.” He smiled as he lightly caressed your cheek.

You smiled slightly at his words.

“Aww there’s that beautiful smile.” Five said as he lightly pinched your cheek.

You giggled and batted his hand away and wiped your tears away.

A sandwich and drink was placed in front of you and you looked up to another Five holding a now empty tray.

“Your favourite, just the way you like it.” He said as he gently grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it with a wink.

You blushed at the action and thanked him.

Even though you got on that train in order to get away from him…you don’t think you’ll be getting back on any time soon.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

tell me again that you hate me

a/n: i kinda just poured all of the filth ever into this one fic... you're welcome.

summary: “you know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 

warnings: bully!stepbro!rafe cameron x virgin!reader, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, enemies to lovers, rafe is in college while reader is still in high school (everyone is over 18), blackmail, alcohol consumption, allusion to drug use, drunk driving, hidden cameras, panty stealing, references to somno, possessiveness, kissing, loss of virginity, size kink, belly bulge, pain kink, dirty talk, impact play, oral, pussyjob, just the tip, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, no aftercare and not really any foreplay, public sex, rafe is mean and pervy and dark but it's all fun because it's just a silly fantasy

word count: 5153

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Your life had turned into a living nightmare.

You thought that when your high school bully graduated, you’d finally get rid of him. But little did you know what the future held in store, just who your own mother would decide to marry and what particular family you’d be forced to fuse with. 

Rafe Cameron had been the bane of your existence for years. Sure, when you’d first met him, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, but that was until he noticed you and truly showed you the notorious bully that he was. And now that he, the very person who had turned your teenage years into literal hell, had become your stepbrother, you couldn’t wait to get out of there, move halfway across the globe just to never see his face again. 

It also didn’t help matters that you got situated in the room right next to his, even had to share a Jack and Jill bathroom with him. 

Now what you didn’t know was how Rafe’s feelings truly were towards you. How he only started bullying you because you made him feel some type of way that no other chick did, but you came from the wrong side of the island, so getting those feelings out in the form of cruelty only seemed natural to a guy such as him. You had no idea that it was actually you whom he thought about every time he jerked off on the other side of that incredibly thin wall you shared, or even that his wicked fascination with you only seemed to grow now that you were a part of the family. 

The impatient knocks were no use, so swiftly you swung the door to Rafe’s bedroom open. He was nowhere in sight, but before you could turn around to search for him in another place, the light that his computer monitor blared out into the space caught your eye.

Your vision however grew wide as soon as you saw the taboo tab that was open. It was porn, but not just any porn. The open page was littered with rows and rows of graphic videos that all fell under the stepsister search he had typed in. 

Frozen in your stance, you wanted to sprint out of there, though at the same time, some part of you wanted to inch closer and snoop further. 

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” a voice blared from behind you and caused you to jump.

Skittering away from the desk, you spotted the familiar buzzcut standing in the doorway. 

“I–, uh,” you swallowed and recalled the reason for your hunt, “my mom’s forcing me to go to that party at Topper’s tonight.”

“Okay, and?” he scoffed. 

“And so, because I don’t really do that sort of thing–”

“Because you’re a fucking loser who never gets invited.”

“Because I have better things to spend my Friday nights doing, your father wanted you to keep an eye on me and to make sure I got home safe.”

The only way you were gonna get through the night was if you got as wasted as possible.

Which is exactly what you ended up doing. 

When the clock chimed two, the raging headache you were developing from the blaring music convinced you to finally call it a night. You’d given it enough of a chance, enough experience to go home and state that partying simply wasn’t for you. 

But if you didn’t find the literal demon of a stepbrother and let him complete his end of the bargain, then maybe your mom wouldn’t believe you alone and force you to go to another. 

However, locating him turned out to be a much more difficult task than you’d thought. As you stumbled around the massive house, supporting your wobbly weight on the walls as you peeked into each of the rooms where some partygoers had migrated to, you soon dug your phone out of your jeans and dialled up his number. 

It was on the third attempted call that you finally stumbled into him. Sitting with a random blonde on his lap and the remnants of a mysterious white powder dusting the coffee table separating you from him. 

“There you are,” you grumbled, “I’ve been trying to call you!”

His expression turned sour as he noticed your presence, swiftly flipping his phone around as it layed on the table, though the caller ID that lit up the screen wasn’t of your name as your phone still buzzed in your palm to get through to him. Instead, it spelt out fleshlight in big bold letters. 

“So, you have,” he exhaled, “what do you want?” 

“I wanna go home,” you shoved your phone back in your pocket. 

“So, go home. What do you want my fucking permission? Are you that obsessed with me?”

“You have to take me home,” you reminded him, though when he began to laugh in your face, you shot back, “or you can just deal with your dad yourself when you get home. Your choice if you wanna keep being in his good graces or not.” 

That managed to shut him up. Though as he reluctantly pushed the blonde aside and got up from the couch, he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “fucking prude,” like a curse on the wind just before he marched passed you and grabbed a hold of your arm to drag you with him. 

“Ow, Rafe, you’re hurting me!” you tried to tear yourself free of his grip. 

“Oh, shut up you baby, no I’m not. You wanna feel what does hurt?” his long fingers then dug further into your flesh and caused it to actually ache, “this.”

As he pushed open the front door, you whined, “ow, please stop,” but when he finally did, he only traded the grasp out with a light shove to your shoulder, directing you further towards his parked car. 

When you were planted in the passenger seat with your gaze firmly fixed out the window as the dark streets rolled by, you crossed your arms and mumbled, “I hate you…” gaining enough courage from the dizzying alcohol ravaging your system to utter it out loud. 

“What was that?” Rafe cast a glance in your direction.

Twisting your neck to glare back at him, you hesitantly repeated, “I hate you,” though the faint flicker of bravery you’d acquired was snuffed out as swiftly as it ignited when you saw the smirk that bloomed on your stepbrother’s features. 

“Aw, don’t tell me that, princess,” he chuckled, “you’ll just make me hard.” 

Eyes widening, they briefly fluttered down to the crotch of his trousers before you blinked away, a reaction that was evidently satisfying enough for Rafe to cause him to keep going. 

“But you probably wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.”

“I know what to do,” you said defensively, though regretted your humouring him as soon as the words slipped out past your lips. 

“Oh yeah? Just how would you know that? Everyone knows you’re a fucking virgin,” something he was to blame for, though that wasn’t a fact you ever had to know. You didn’t have to be aware of just how many times he had stopped guys from asking you out, just because he wanted you all to himself, “but are you secretly a perv, sis? Is that how you think you know what to do?”

“Don’t call me that,” you cringed lightly. 

“What? A perv? Or sis? Don’t you wanna be reminded that you’re my stepsister?”

“Not particularly...”

As the car curved into the driveway to Tanny Hill, an offer suddenly rolled off Rafe’s tongue. 

“You know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 

Your mouth hung agape as the vehicle rolled to a stop, the sudden shift made you fear that your latest drink would come up again. 

Utterly stunned, you couldn’t form a single word as you stared back at him. 

“I mean, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” he went on, turning in his seat to gaze over at you, already undressing you with his eyes, “haven’t you always had the hots for me?”

“I–…” it felt as if the car was swaying around even though it stood completely still, “…I drank way too much tonight, and I think you might have as well.”

“You’re drunk?” darkness glinted in his eyes, “well, I honestly don’t know if I should be impressed or run inside and wake everyone up so you can get grounded for fucking ever,” he laughed. 

“No!” you gasped, “You can’t tell them, please! I–…” you felt tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes and blur up your already hazy vision, “fuck!” 

Leaning even further back in his seat, he cocked his head, “I mean, I could also keep it a secret…” the tip of his tongue mischievously slipped out to poke his lip, “for the right price, that is.”

“Seriously?” you glared back at him, “are you serious right now?”

Capturing your hand, he swiftly brought it to the palpable tent in his pants, “do I not seem serious?” his eyes narrowed ever so slightly to a squint. 

Your lips parted in shock, stare flickering away from his eyes to spot how he ever so slightly pressed your palm down against him. 

He was so hard that you could nearly feel his pulse through the fabric of his trousers. 

“I mean, really I’d be helping you out,” your gaze stayed glued to how his broad hand engulfed your own a moment longer before you glanced up to find his unwavering stare once more, “so you should really thank me for both keeping your secret and doing you such a massive favour…”

As a shaky breath escaped your lungs, you whispered once more, “I hate you…”

But the proclamation only conjured a smile to appear on his lips, “tell me again,” and he leaned in a bit closer.

“I hate y–,” but you didn’t get the last bit out as Rafe then crashed his lips against yours.

It took a second for you to react with anything other than a surprised whimper, but when you did, it was slow and cautious compared to his boldness. 

A string of saliva strung you together as he eventually parted from you. Offering himself a small caress, he pressed your palm down against him one last time before he let you go. His breathing was heavy as he momentarily let his thumb trace your bottom lip, briefly slipping it crudely in your mouth, before uttering, “get inside.”  

Why, after all of this time, after all of the pain and torture he alone made you go through, why did he still have to give you butterflies the way that he did?

It was your room that he led you to, a hand ever rooted on you as you made the journey. At first, you thought it was because he saw the way you occasionally stumbled over your own feet, but perhaps it was just in case you wanted to make a run for it, just a precaution, a safety net already halfway over you. 

“Take your clothes off,” he commanded in a cold tone as he shut the door behind you. 

“W-what?” you turned to look back at him.

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he repeated, “take your clothes off,” though they came out sounding slightly impatient. 

He palmed himself through his pants as you slowly began to strip. Though as you’d shyly peeled your t-shirt off and dropped it to the floor, his voice halted you just as you began to undo your jeans. 

“Stop,” his voice cut the thick air like a knife, “turn around when you pull those down,” you twisted away from him as your thumbs sank into either side of the waistband, “and do it slowly,” he made you put on a show, ogling as you gradually revealed the curve of your ass, “that’s it…” he nearly moaned as your pants crumbles to the floor, “bra and panties too, princess. Unless of course, you’re backing out of our deal already.”

Clenching your jaw, you squeezed your eyes shut and shed the rest, ignoring his soft wolf whistles and crude comments as you exposed yourself. 

Slowly turning back around to face him, your hands were clasped before you out of sheer timidness and not knowing what to do with them. 

“You gonna stand over there all night?” he raised his chin slightly.

When your feet stood rooted right before his seated position on the bed, your hands began to fiddle as he pulled his shirt over his head and caused your pulse to somehow beat even harder than it already did. 

One of his palms then scooped up your stomach and briefly grabbed one of your tits before scooping you closer, “come here,” and utilised his leverage to toss you down on the bed beside him, “let me get a good look at you.” 

Grabbing for the bedsheets as the mattress momentarily bounced beneath your spine, you blinked up at Rafe as he sat next to you, twisting his form and craning down to near your core. 

You tried to clamber your legs shut, embarrassed for what his cruel reaction might be, but he was not only faster, but stronger than you, and grabbed a hold of your thighs. As he split you apart, his lips curled up into a grin. 

“Look at you… fuck,” he let out a short chuckle, “this is gonna be fun.” 

A gasp curled out of your frame as he then grazed his thumb over your folds, smearing some of the mortifying wetness that seeped out and made you feel even more intoxicated than you already were. He lightly spread you apart and studied intently your dripping pussy, how it looked, how it glistened and how your little hole twitched when he lightly circled your clit. 

“Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he rubbed your puffy pearl with a mean lightness that caused your hips to buck slightly, “you like it when your big stepbrother touches you like this?” but when you didn’t reply, he reached down and grabbed your jaw, angling it for you to meet his eye, “answer me.”

“I–… y-yes,” you quietly admitted, feeling as if you were in some strange dream. 

“Of course you do, you dirty little girl,” he bent down again to gaze at your pussy a little too close for your taste, “I knew you were a slut since the moment I met you.”

Letting go of your face, he then snaked his free hand down to give himself an ounce of relief. 

“You know, part of me doesn’t even wanna prep you with my fingers first,” he smirked and let his fingertips sweep down to tickle your entrance, “I like the idea of not stretching you out first and letting my cock do all the work, let it feel just how tiny and pure you are for me.” 

“But isn’t that gonna hurt?” your breath caught in your throat. Sure, you’d played with yourself nearly till your hands fell off, but that idea still managed to scare you. 

“God, I hope so,” he groaned and briefly leaned down to press a hot kiss to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and sloppily making out with it. 

When he then stood up and pulled his pants down, your jaw nearly hit the floor as well when you saw how thick his dick was. Fat and veiny, curving proudly up towards his abs. 

Seizing your hips, Rafe yanked you closer to where he stood, nearly letting your ass dangle over the edge of the mattress.

“Wait,” you suddenly reached out to touch his forearm as he gave himself a few lavish strokes, staring down at your cunt, comparing the obscene size of him to your puff, “what about a condom?” you squeaked as he flicked his leaking tip down to tap your core. 

Sucking in a fierce breath through his nose, he glared down at you and shot back, “what about you shut the fuck up and just be grateful,” before he sent his open palm down to smack your pussy. 

“Ah! I’m sorry, I just–, fuck!” you shuttered beneath him as he soothed the slap with the nudge of his length, rubbing it against you and teasing your cunt before he started sweeping it through your folds, nearly fucking your soppy slit, the tip of him kissing your little pearl on each silky advance.  

A dollop of spit dropped from his lips and joined the mess he already tickled at between your parted legs. 

“It’s too big…” you murmured as you stared down at how his fat girth parted your pretty petals, though the observation only conjured a smile on Rafe’s lips, “maybe you could just put the tip in?” you tried through your foggy mind, “that would still count.”

A rumbling chuckle bubbled out of him as he stared down at the two of you together, “just the tip…” his movements then grew more erratic as he slid through your folds, “is that all you think your little virgin cunt can handle?” shy gasps escaped you every time he deliberately let his cock catch at your opening, “just the tip?” 

As he slowly pressed just the flush head of his length in to breach your entrance, your brows crinkled up at the mind-numbing stretch. 

“Like that, baby?” he only moved ever so slightly, “is that all you think you can handle?” and you nodded foggily in return. But as you let your eyes flutter shut and breathed through the staggeringly wonderful sensation, Rafe’s voice once again washed over you, “nah,” like a splash of cold water while you were licking up warm sun rays, “that’s not good enough. This is,” and he then slammed the entirety of his length into you.

Your eyes instantly shot back open and your legs curled up even further on either side of you at the shock. 

“What?” he cooed at you mockingly as he slowly dragged his dick back out for just the memory to remain, “does it hurt?”

You were a blubbering and cursing mess, trembling beneath him as your pussy tried to accommodate him.

“Come on, princess,” he bent down over you and let his nose ghost against yours, “tell me that it hurts.”

“It h-hurts,” you whimpered as his hot breath fanned across your blazing cheeks. 

It did sting, a lot, but though you hated to admit it, a part of you loved it, a part of you sank even further into the pit of pleasure he so slowly dunked you into. 

“Tell me that it’s too big for you,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he plugged you back up. 

Your body shook beneath his every time he moved as much as a millimetre inside you, “i-it’s too big.” 

Letting out a low moan of satisfaction, he then leaned down to press his lips to yours, stealing your breath away even further. 

You tried, but couldn’t really focus on kissing him back, not that he seemed to mind much as he moaned into your mouth, soon letting his sloppy kisses dance over your cheek and down your neck, letting hickeys bloom in his wake and mark up your skin like a brand.

As he sucked down on the spot where your pulse went wild beneath the skin, his hips drove against yours harder, causing them to collide in a sticky smack, as well as letting the tip of him bully the deepest part of you. He didn’t just do it once, but kept it up as he enjoyed the little squeaks you let out every time he bumped against your cervix. 

Kissing his way back up to your lips, he only offered them the briefest of pecks before raising himself off of you, just ever so slightly, and one by one, grabbed your already wide-spread legs and rested each one of them onto his broad shoulders, efficiently folding you in half. 

“H-holy shit,” you panted as the mattress rippled beneath you at every one of his rough thrusts, “Rafe–”

“Yeah?” he smirked down at your melted form, the vein in his forehead popping from the strain, “are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum on your big bro’s dick?” one of his hands swept up to squeeze your tit, then gave it a swift tap before growling, “come on, princess. I can feel you squeezing me so fucking tight. Do it, I fucking dare you. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”

You almost screamed as you tumbled over the edge, your head curling to the side to hide yourself in the crumbled duvet beneath you as your pussy gushed all over his fat girth. 

“Oh, fuck,” Rafe croaked as he straightened back up to get a good view. Pulling out of you, he briefly flicked his dick through your folds to urge more of your nectar to leak out, before he slid it back inside and asked in amazement, “you ever squirted before?” 

Trembling from the overstimulation, your eyes rolled in your skull as you shakily mumbled, “maybe twice, I think.”

“Such a good fucking slut,” he growled proudly, “squirting all over me like a proper whore. Just look at you,” his grip dented your thighs as he pressed them further down against the bed, “you’re already a pretty little cockdrunk mess.”

“I–, I–,” you blubbered as you felt drool begin to trickle down your cheek. 

“Oh, fuck,” he then groaned, glancing down at where he split you apart, “hold your legs back,” he requested, though had to help your sluggish hands find their way, “look at this, baby,” he scooped a palm behind your head and ushered you to spot what he had noticed. Splaying a wide hand over the lower part of your stomach, he traced the faint bulge that rhythmically appeared, “sure as fuck not a virgin anymore, are you? Fucking ruining that perfect little pussy of yours. Now that’s how you pop a fucking cherry. Aren’t you happy I was in such a charitable mood tonight?” he then pressed down on the imprint rudely, the overwhelming sensation causing your pussy to drizzle a little more around him, “aren’t you, sis?”

“Yes,” you mewled, feeling as if you were floating on a cloud and not getting your guts rearranged. 

“You’d let me do anything I’d fucking want, wouldn’t you?” he smirked down at your dazed form. 

“Y-yes,” the word flowed out of you, though you couldn’t quite comprehend all of his dirty talk any longer. 

“Hold on,” he briefly slowed down and stretched over to reach a small apprentice obscured and hidden in all of the cluttered decor on your nearby dresser. Turning it in his hand, he pointed the discrete camera down to film you, “say it again,” he picked his pace back up, “tell me that you’ll let me do anything I want to you.”

“Anything,” the words bubbled out through your moans, “anything you want.” 

“Say that you’re my little slut.”

“I’m yours–, I-I’m your s-slut.”

Tilting the hidden camera down to get a few close-ups, his voice then seeped into you once more, “now tell me again that you hate me.” 

One of your hands fluttered down and began to rub your puffy clit.

“I hate you.”

“Again,” he reached down to give your left nipple a harsh pinch.

“I hate you.”

“Keep going, princess.” 

And the more times the phrase flowed out past your lips, the more it began to lose its meaning and morph into just another sound, one that was almost akin to the complete opposite kind of proclamation. 

Just like you barely noticed when Rafe dug out the hidden camera, so too did you miss it when he put it back down, obscured somewhere among your things, possibly not even the only one. 

When you came once again, Rafe didn’t so much as pause when you creamed around his cock and drenched the sheets beneath you that much further.

“There you fucking go,” he sent a palm down to smack the sensitive skin on your inner thigh, “god, you’re so hot. I can’t believe you actually let me do this,” he grinned as your fingers stretched out to graze his wild hips, trying and failing to slow him down, “you’re such a little freak,” he glanced down at the ring of your essence that marked the base of his throbbing cock, “so fucking nasty for your stepbrother. I bet you’d even let me keep using you after you fall asleep. I mean, who’s to say I haven’t already,” he chuckled, “you’re so fucking cute when you sleep. No annoying remarks, no dumb comments… I think I might prefer you that way…” his slamming grew sloppy as he soon moaned, “fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“Pull out,” you begged through your hazy pants. 

And just when you thought he wouldn’t respect your wishes, he yanked out and furiously stroked himself before your winking and wrecked hole as it slowly retraced from the severe stretch. Moaning loudly, he swiftly painted your pussy with his load, getting it all over your puffy petals till he was panting above you. One hand rested on your thigh as he brushed the sensitive head of his cock over the cream, messily tapping the hefty weight of him against your aching clit and making you jump a few times as he smeared it in. 

Throwing himself down on the bed beside you, he let out a long sigh and said, “you’re welcome.”

You felt like you couldn’t move, like you might never be able to move again. Your breath still came in ragged as the only thing you could focus on was the sore throbbing centred at your core, that blossomed out through the rest of your nerves. 

“Well,” Rafe huffed as he soon lifted himself up to a sitting position, “night,” and without another word, slipped out through your shared bathroom into his own bedroom. 

“I can’t believe they made you take me,” you grumbled as you watched Rafe shadow you in the clothing store, “I could have just gone to the mall on my own.”

“You don’t have a car though–, also, why are you the one complaining? I’m the one being forced to go fucking shopping with you of all people.”

Somehow, for some mysterious reason, since you’d moved into Tanny Hill, your collection of underwear had shrivelled down till you barely had enough to get you through the week. Guess that was the price you had to pay for letting someone else do your laundry, though you’d always assumed it would more just be a single sock that commonly vanished in the wash…

When you dipped into the fitting room to try a few of the gathered options on, you only managed to test out two of them before the curtain slid back open and you swiftly scrambled to cover yourself.

“Rafe!” you let out a hushed screech, “what do you think you’re–”

“Try these on,” he handed you a wide stack of hangers. It wasn’t just underwear dangling from them, but also some clothing, though all of it way too revealing than you were used to. 

Glancing down at them, you refused to grasp the items and simply stated in a clear tone, “no.” 

Letting out a low sigh, he then turned to close the curtain back up before he twisted back to face you, “do you need me to have a little talk with your mom and my dad?” he took a few steps towards you, slowly pushing you into the corner by the tall mirror.

Glaring back at him through your pout, you huffed, “no…” 

You stayed in the corner as he then hung the clothing up on the hooks before taking a seat on the small stool where your purse was resting before he swept it to the floor. 

“Are you just gonna sit there and watch?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “it’s boring as shit out there. At least in here, I might get a moderate amount of entertainment.”

Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly began to try the attire on. 

“I hate thongs,” you muttered as you tugged a pair into place over your hip, trying not to catch your stepbrother’s stare as his gaze wandered from your reflection to the perfect view he had of your backside. 

“I recall you hate a lot of things you still don’t hesitate to jump on.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, “you have your fun, enjoy this little fashion show, but I’m sure as hell not getting any of these.”

“Well, good,” he uttered demeaningly, “because I’m buying them for you.”

Catching his eye in the mirror, you told him, “I’m still not wearing them. You can’t make me.” 

“Yeah,” he puffed out a smirk, “we’ll see about that,” and then tore his gaze away from you to gesture to one of the hangers, “try that dress on, but keep the pink thong on underneath, only the thong though.” 

You had to shut your eyes in annoyance a moment before you fulfilled his request, soon standing before him in a scantily cut, pastel mini dress, crafted in a fabric so thin that you could see the faint shadow of your nipples poking through them, especially after they’d turned all pebbly after Rafe had torn that privacy curtain to the side. 

“You happy now?” you turned to face him and propped your hands on either side of your hips. 

“Hm,” he cockily pursed his lips as his gaze studied you, “I was right…”

Your brows stayed furrowed till you watched his palm slide down to squeeze himself through his shorts. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed, eyes growing wide. 

“You do look hot in normal clothes.”

“I don’t think any of this is normal…”

“I think it’s time you learned how to suck a cock,” he suddenly announced, eyes still glued to the dress’ low neckline as he unzipped his slacks. 

“Rafe…” you breathed. 

His eyes flickered up to find yours, “get on your knees,” he tilted his head, “come on, princess. You’ll love it, trust me.” 

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