#buy big smooth online

[sigh-tofm]

if you’re their sugar baby… (18+)

… price

- absolutely spoils you. adores giving you anything you want. if your gaze lingers in a shop window, he’ll buy you whatever’s in it. you suspect he’s infiltrated your phone somehow, because anything you look at online will show up on your doorstep a few days later. he takes you to private jewellery fittings and sits back with a glass of whisky while the jewellers puts glimmering necklaces and earrings on you.

in return, he likes showing you off. regularly takes you out to restaurants so expensive they don’t even list their prices on the menu. spoon feeds you black caviar and picks out the correct wine, the bottles so old they still have wax seals on them. loves seeing you wearing the dresses he buys for you, revealing the fleshier parts of your body that the rest of society tells you to hide. always wants you to wear diamonds in your ears when you’re his date. nothing is ever too expensive if it’s for you.

takes you to a luxurious hotel after and fucks you good and well in the satin sheets. goes back to base before you wake up the morning after, and leaves a generous cash tip on the nightstand in addition to the monthly four digit payments transferred directly to your bank account.

… kyle

- takes care of you. a sergeant’s pay is low compared to a captain’s, but it’s still a substantial amount and much, much more than you make. enjoys having a pretty lady to spoil. any visit to the hairdresser or nail salon is on him. will occasionally request a specific colour for your nails, and you know it’s to match a dress he’s bought you, waiting for you at home.

takes you dancing, spends the whole night downtown and treats you to high-end street food at three in the morning. you get fancy cocktails and colourful shots and anything else you want to try. if another woman gets close to him on the dance floor, he makes a point out of feeling you up, splaying his hands over you wide hips and soft tummy.

takes you home to his and you both fall right to sleep, waking up past noon the day after. arranges a massage for you to help with your hangover. sits in on the appointment and flips your towel up to eat you out when the massage therapist leaves. reminds you to use the credit card he’s given you in between your orgasms.

… johnny

- whisks you away to scotland when he’s off duty. borrows the family cabin in the highlands and accommodates you both in the master bedroom, spending the cold nights in a grand bed with a heavy pelt covering the duvet. loves the fantasy of having a big, soft secret stowed away in the mountains.

spends the days hiking with you or takes you down to the coast, where you watch the wild waves and enjoy cottage pie in a local pub. asks for the finest whiskey, refusing anything but the best for you. tells you all about the history of the old stone kirk of the town over steaming mugs of spiked cider.

lays the pelt out on the floor before the great fireplace in the living room and grins when you mention the cliché of it all. remarks that clichés exist for a reason and pulls you close. your skin grows goosebumps in the cold air of the cabin, but the fireplace (and the rigorous activity on the pelt rug) warms you both up. lays with you after, smoothing his hand over your side and enjoying how your soft body gives way to the pressure of his fingers. pays for first class on your flight back home and gives you cash enough to cover both rent and supplies for the month. makes out with you messily at the airport before you part ways.

… simon

- takes you along to all his going ons outside of active duty. enjoys having a partner in crime, so to speak. in the military he’s a lone wolf, so when he’s off he just wants to have you for company. price thinks it’s a good idea for him too, to at least pretend he has some normalcy in his life. you oblige. he takes you to all his mundane errands; groceries, changing the tires of his car, walking the old bridle paths in his area.

has you tucked in under his arm when the footie’s on in the evening, trays of hot takeaway on the sofa table. if you can’t decide what you want to order, he has you list everything you’re interested in and orders it all. entertains your questions about football terminology and plays with your hair. pulls a blanket over you when you’re close to falling asleep and turns the volume down.

herds you to bed after a little while and so enjoys having a warm, soft body to put his arm around at night. to you, it’s all so casual and natural that you almost forget it’s an arrangement, but he never forgets to pay for your company according to your agreement and always tips generously.

doesn’t say it out loud, but likes it when you straddle him on the sofa and lets him feel you up and make out with you until he comes in his pants like a schoolboy.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Another Ending - 1 | Bucky Barnes

Character: ex!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It was supposed to be a short week watching over your niece, who loves romance books. She thought you were just a normal aunt, but it turns out you have secrets.

Tags: Spies, action, threat, offense, fight scene, violence, romance.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , -

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The weight of the assassin's body presses down on you, pinning you to the ground as his sword hovers dangerously close to your throat. Every muscle in your arms strains as you hold your gun up, barely keeping the blade away from your neck.

The cold metal of the sword gleams under the dim light, a stark reminder of how close you are to death. His eyes, hidden behind the mask, are unreadable, but you can feel the murderous intent radiating from him.

Sweat drips down your forehead, mixing with the dirt and blood on your face as you grit your teeth. With every ounce of strength, you manage to growl, "You're dead to me."

For a split second, you see it—hesitation. The assassin’s grip falters, his focus wavering. That’s all you need. With a desperate shove, you push him off, the sword sliding away from your neck as you scramble to your feet. Your heart pounds in your chest as adrenaline takes over, and you start running, not daring to look back.

The echoes of your past, the regrets, and the pain are left behind as you sprint away. You know that you’ve bought yourself only a few precious seconds, but at this moment, it’s enough. You leave the assassin behind, along with everything that once bound you.

🥀🥀🥀🥀

The lodge is warm and inviting, nestled comfortably by the edge of a tranquil lake. Large windows allow sunlight to pour in, casting a golden glow across the rustic wooden floors. The living room is cozy, with a soft, earth-toned sofa positioned near a stone fireplace. You push the sofa slightly, adjusting its angle to better face the window, where the view of the lake creates a peaceful backdrop.

As you finish, the sound of the doorbell rings through the house. You straighten up, smoothing a hand over your clothes before heading to the door. When you open it, a smile crosses your face.

Standing there is Lori Grant, your niece. She’s dressed in a green shirt and black pants, her short hair with bangs framing her face beneath thick glasses. A pink backpack is slung over one shoulder, and she’s dragging a suitcase that looks far too big for her small frame.

“Hello, Aunty,” Lori greets you, her voice bright with excitement.

“Where’s your mom?” you ask, glancing past her.

“She just left,” Lori replies, stepping inside and immediately struggling with the weight of her suitcase. She lets out a frustrated “Ugh” as it catches on the doorstep.

You can’t help but chuckle softly. “Let me help you with that.” Gripping the handle, you lift the suitcase easily, though you wonder why a 13-year-old needs so much luggage.

As you bring the suitcase inside, you ask, “Are you hungry? I bought some tofu for you.” Your older sister’s voice echoes in your mind, reminding you of the strict health-conscious diet she keeps Lori on. She’s made a name for herself online with her healthy recipes, and now she’s on a book tour promoting her new cookbook.

Lori looks up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and hope. “Aunty, I’m so excited to be here. I can finally get away from the food my mom makes.”

You laugh, a warm, understanding sound. “Oh, thank goodness. How about fried chicken or lasagna?”

Lori’s face lights up, her hands clasping together as if in prayer. “Why not both?” Her eyes shimmer with anticipation, almost teary at the thought of indulging in something she’s missed.

“Yes!” you reply with a grin, already planning the feast.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

The two of you cook together, filling the kitchen with the mouthwatering aroma of fried chicken and lasagna. The sizzle of the food and the warmth of the stove creates a cozy atmosphere, and before long, you’re both sitting at the table, enjoying the meal.

Lori, barely looking up from her book, eats with a hearty appetite, tearing into the fried chicken and savoring the lasagna.

You glance at her, amused by how engrossed she is in her book. It’s refreshing to see someone her age so absorbed in reading rather than staring at a screen. She’s been glued to that book ever since she arrived.

“Is it a good book?” you ask, taking a sip of your water.

“Yes. The best,” she replies without lifting her eyes from the pages.

You smile and ask, “What’s the book about?”

At that, Lori snaps the novel shut and looks at you with excitement blazing in her eyes, as if she’s been waiting for this moment. “Oh, Aunty, this is the best book! It’s full of adrenaline, mystery, and romance.”

You raise your eyebrows and nod slowly, recognizing the same spark in her that your older sister often has. “Let me guess, a royal romance?”

Lori shakes her head enthusiastically. “No. It’s set in modern day. It’s an enemies-to-lovers story where both are spies from different sides. They have to decide between love and their duty.”

You nod again, your expression thoughtful. “That’s impossible in the real world.”

Lori huffs, rolling her eyes playfully. “That’s why it’s fantasy, Aunty. Geez, you sound just like my mom.” She returns to her book, burying herself in the story again.

You chuckle softly, setting your glass down as you gather your plate and stand up. “Well, usually betrayal happens in those stories.”

Lori looks up, her eyes wide with enthusiasm. “That’s right! There’s a part where the male character betrays the female character.”

Your hand slips, the plate clattering into the sink, but thankfully it doesn’t break.

“Aunty, are you okay?” Lori asks, concern in her voice.

“I’m fine. My hand just slipped,” you say, brushing it off with a smile.

Lori gets up, carrying her plate to the sink. “I’m already done. I’ll help you with the dishes.”

“Thank you,” you reply, appreciating her help.

As you both wash the dishes, you ask her about life at school. Lori tells you all about her friends, her classes, and the things that make her happy.

“Do you have a crush at school?” you ask, a teasing note in your voice.

Lori hesitates, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “Well… there is one boy. His hair and smile remind me of the male character from the spy book.”

You nearly drop the spatula but manage to catch it just in time. What’s gotten into you today?

“What about you, Aunty?” Lori asks, her tone curious.

“Me?” you respond, a bit caught off guard.

“While living in this lodge, have you ever met a farmer with a six-pack, a cute café owner, or a cool police officer?” Lori asks, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

You gasp, her question catching you by surprise. “Your mom mentioned you’ve become quite the chatterbox.”

“Aunty, your life is a dream. You have it all—except a boyfriend,” Lori says matter-of-factly. She doesn’t fully understand what you do for a living, but she knows from her mom and grandparents that you’ve traveled the world and are now enjoying the fruits of your hard work.

You place your hands on your hips, eyeing her with a mock sternness. “How long have you been staying with Grandma?”

“Three weeks,” Lori answers, wiping a plate dry with a clean cloth.

“That explains it,” you say with a chuckle, ruffling her hair playfully. Your mother has a habit of prying into your love life, and you’ve overheard her sighing over the phone, saying, ‘I’m afraid she’ll die single.’

“But seriously, Aunty, why are you still single?” Lori asks, her eyes wide with innocent curiosity.

You look at her, a sigh escaping your lips. “When you’re older, you’ll understand that life is complicated. There’s no guarantee of a happy ending.”

“Seems like you don’t believe in romance anymore,” she says, her voice soft but probing.

“Lori…” you begin, but her words strike a chord in you. Kids have a way of getting straight to your feelings. You head to the living room, trying to shake off the conversation and turn on the TV. With a sigh, you throw yourself onto the couch.

Lori follows you, still determined to rekindle your belief in romance. But then, something catches her eye. “Aunty, what’s on the second floor?”

“Just a storage room. Full of dust and spiders,” you reply, waving a hand dismissively.

“Can I go up there?” she asks, her enthusiasm barely contained.

“Go ahead,” you say, smiling at her eagerness.

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you hear her running feet thudding up the stairs. You shake your head, chuckling to yourself. What happened to the little girl who was afraid of spiders? Maybe the influence of that action-packed novel, the fantasy world, pulled her in.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Lori’s eyes lit up with excitement as she explored the second floor, her steps quickening with each new discovery. It felt like a treasure hunt to her, the dusty corners and forgotten items fueling her curiosity.

She opened old boxes, sifted through forgotten knick-knacks, and rummaged through piles of clutter. Her heart raced with the thrill of the search, every creak of the floorboards adding to the sense of adventure.

Then, tucked away near the Christmas decorations, she spotted a plain, unassuming box. It didn’t look like much, but something about it caught her attention. With a soft gasp of anticipation, she opened it and found an old, bulky laptop inside. The device was covered in dust, its once sleek surface now dull and scratched.

“Wow,” Lori whispered, her eyes widening in awe. She lifted the laptop carefully and opened it, running her fingers over the keys. “Clicky, clicky. Love this keyboard,” she said, delighting in the tactile response of the keys beneath her fingers.

Unable to contain her excitement, Lori ran downstairs to find you, clutching the laptop in her arms like a prized possession. “Aunty, look what I found! This is so old, and I love the sound it makes!”

You glanced up and your eyes widened in surprise. “Where did you get that?” you asked, a mix of surprise and concern in your voice.

“Near the Christmas decorations. Can I turn it on?” she asked, her eyes shining with eagerness.

You shook your head, a hint of hesitation creeping into your tone. “It’s been a long time since I turned it on,” you admitted, memories flickering at the edge of your mind. You had pretended the laptop didn’t exist for so long that it had slipped from your thoughts entirely.

“I’ll throw it away,” you said, reaching out to take the laptop from her.

But Lori quickly pulled it back, guarding the laptop protectively. “Even if it’s broken, I could use this for throwback videos,” she argued, her determination evident.

You sighed, seeing the pleading look in her eyes. “Fine. You can have it,” you relented.

“Thank you!” Lori beamed, her smile so bright that any irritation you felt melted away. She hugged the laptop close and dashed off to the guest room, eager to play with her new toy.

Inside her room, Lori’s excitement was palpable. She carefully plugged the charger into the old laptop and pressed the power button, holding her breath in anticipation. But the screen remained dark, the laptop unresponsive.

Her enthusiasm waned slightly, but she didn’t give up. Determined, she searched online for ways to fix old laptops, flipping the device upside down to look for a serial number or brand name. But the markings were too faded to read.

Her hope began to crumble as she realized the laptop might never work again. With a sigh, she set it aside and opened her suitcase, revealing stacks of novels inside. This was the real reason she had wanted to stay with you—to immerse herself in her books without anyone bothering her.

As the night wore on, the clock crept closer to 10 p.m. You yawned, feeling the weight of the day settle in, and turned off the TV. Before heading to bed, you decided to check on Lori. When you peeked into her room, you found her already fast asleep, curled up with a new book clutched in her hands.

You smiled softly, understanding now what was in her suitcase. With a gentle chuckle, you carefully adjusted her sleeping posture and tucked her in, whispering, “Good night.”

As you left, you saw the old black laptop still plugged in, silently charging in the corner. It had been nearly seven years since you last thought about it. You shook your head, a mix of relief and resignation washing over you. It was better if that thing stayed dead, buried in the past where it belonged.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

The next morning, Lori woke up feeling cozy under the blankets. She glanced around, realizing she must have fallen asleep while reading her book again. The comforting silence in the room was a welcome change from the usual yelling of her mother.

This is why staying with you was such a great idea. She turned her attention to the old laptop, remembering she had left it charging all night.

With renewed hope, she quickly jumped out of bed and moved to the laptop. She pressed the power button, but the screen remained stubbornly black. Disappointment settled over her like a heavy fog.

Then, she heard it—the faint hum of the laptop’s fan. Her eyes widened, and a gasp escaped her lips. She clapped her hands together in excitement. “Yes!”

Just then, you called from the kitchen, your voice carrying cheerfully through the house. “Lori! You’ve woken up? I’ve made breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry yet,” Lori replied, her focus still on the laptop, waiting for the screen to light up.

“It’s bacon and eggs,” you added, a hint of a smile in your voice.

The mention of bacon and eggs immediately captured Lori’s attention. It had been ages since she’d had a breakfast like that. “I’m coming!” she called out, her voice filled with enthusiasm.

Without another thought, Lori dashed out of her room, leaving the old laptop to continue its quiet struggle to turn on. Her excitement for breakfast had completely overshadowed her frustration with the laptop, and she hurried to the kitchen, eager for the delicious meal you had prepared.

After breakfast, Lori returned to her room, and her excitement about the old laptop reignited. As she entered, she was stunned to see that the laptop had finally powered up completely.

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the outdated app icons, which looked dull and unappealing. Despite their lack of charm, something else caught her eye: the email application.

Curiosity piqued, Lori navigated to the email app and discovered a list of old emails. She wondered if the laptop could connect to Wi-Fi. To her delight, it could. She connected it and noticed a new notification. Her heart raced as she clicked on it, only to find a single new email dated five years ago.

“This is like something out of a novel,” Lori whispered to herself, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the email.

Her gasp was audible when she realized it wasn’t spam or a work email—it was a love letter. She read the email with growing excitement:

Subject: An Apology and a Request

Hi,

I hope this message finds you well. I’ve been carrying a heavy heart and wanted to reach out, even though it’s been a while. I left the organization and have started a new life, but I’ve realized that it won’t feel complete without you.

I’m deeply sorry for everything that happened and for the pain I caused you. I know that I have no right to ask for anything, but if there’s any chance for us to meet and talk, I’d really like that. I’m not expecting anything, but I hope we can find some closure.

Yours,

B.B

Lori’s eyes sparkled with excitement. This was even better than the romance novels she had read. She couldn’t believe her aunt had an ex who had been missing her all this time and had finally reached out after five years.

Feeling a burst of inspiration, Lori unplugged the laptop and raced downstairs to find you. “Aunt! Look! Look! Someone sent you an apology letter!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

You were busy preparing to head out to your bee farm, dressed in your suit. The sight of the old laptop suddenly turning on and Lori’s enthusiasm about the email caught you off guard. You knew exactly who had sent it, and it brought a wave of mixed emotions.

With a sigh, you closed the laptop, noticing Lori’s disappointed look. You knelt to her level, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Lori, sometimes it’s best to leave the past where it is.”

“But…” she started, her voice trailing off.

You stood up, adjusting your head protection for the farm. “Just enjoy your time here,” you said gently, then headed out of the house.

Lori sighed, her heart heavy with the sadness in your voice. She could sense the pain behind your words and felt that maybe this person was someone special to you. A sudden idea struck her, and she rushed back to her room, placed the old laptop on the table, and began typing a reply.

With her knowledge of romance novels, she crafted a short but heartfelt response:

Subject: Re: An Apology and a Request

Hi B.B,

Thank you for your message. It was a surprise to read your letter after all these years. I appreciate your honesty and the courage it took to reach out. I’m still processing everything, but I’m grateful for your apology.

Maybe one day we can talk, but for now, I hope you find the closure you’re seeking.

Take care,

Y/N

Satisfied with her words, Lori clicked “Send,” feeling accomplished. She hoped her reply would bring peace to her aunt and the sender.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

A few days passed, and Lori grew increasingly nervous. She kept checking the email, but no new notifications appeared, only that eerie computer-generated voice. You noticed her restlessness; she fidgeted with her fingers and paced around the room.

“What’s wrong? Feeling bored?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood. “We could go out for a while, get some fresh air.”

“Eww… no,” Lori replied, wrinkling her nose at the thought of the hot sun and heavy gear. She enjoyed the freedom of staying with you, but she wasn’t enthusiastic about adventures.

“I’d rather stay here, curled up with my book—” Lori was cut off by the familiar, unsettling notification sound.

You flinched at the sound too, a chill creeping down your spine. Lori quickly ran to the laptop, her heart racing with excitement as she saw the red dot notification. She opened the email and skimmed the reply: "I received your message. We need to meet. I’ll find you soon."

“Aunty, look! This person wants to see you. Isn’t it romantic?” Lori said, her excitement palpable.

Romantic my ass, you thought, feeling a cold shiver as you read the email. You abruptly shut the laptop and started packing Lori’s things. Your sudden, frantic movements startled her.

“Change your clothes. Wear something practical and put on running shoes,” you instructed, your voice taut with urgency.

Lori’s eyes widened with concern. “Why? What’s going on?”

“Forget the books. We have fifteen minutes, Lori. Now!” You dashed to your room, grabbing essentials with swift, practiced motions.

Lori, bewildered but obedient, quickly followed your orders. Fifteen minutes later, both of you were ready and in the car. You sped away, your face set in grim determination.

In the passenger seat, Lori clutched the seatbelt tightly, her voice trembling. “Aunt…”

“Lori, did you not hear me? Some things are better left in the past,” you said, your tone cold and firm.

She nodded slowly, her anxiety mounting. “But why?”

Before she could ask more, a deafening explosion rocked the car. “BOOM!” The blast made Lori flinch as she turned to see your house engulfed in flames. Her face pressed against the car window, eyes wide with shock.

“Oh my God. Is that your house?” Lori’s voice was barely a whisper.

You kept your gaze fixed on the road, your face pale and determined. “This is the reality of espionage. The hardest part is when someone tries to kill you.”

Lori gasped, realization dawning on her. “You’re a real spy!”

You didn’t answer, but the silence was deafening—a resounding confirmation.

“And the person who sent the email is another spy!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah. But unlike the novels, we’re not looking to fall in love. We’re trying to kill each other.” Your words sent a shiver down her spine, the gravity of the situation settling in with chilling clarity.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

At the gas station, you and Lori were picking up essential supplies. Your disguise—a dark hat, sunglasses, and a coat pulled tight—wasn't exactly subtle. But Lori's eyes sparkled with excitement.

“This is so cool!” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with admiration.

“It’s not,” you muttered, your voice strained as you tried to mask your growing unease. The thrill of the moment had been replaced by a harsh reality. “I’m taking you to your mom.”

Lori’s enthusiasm faltered as she noticed the tension in your body. “But Aunt… why are you running away if this person wants to see you?”

You sighed heavily. “Because—”

Your words trailed off as a shiver ran down your spine. You felt eyes on you and slowly turned to face the source of your unease. There he was, striding towards you with a purpose.

The man stood tall and lean, his dark hair tousled and his leather jacket catching the dim light of the gas station. His face was striking—handsome in a rugged, intense way. His presence radiated strength and determination.

“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Bucky didn’t break stride or acknowledge you. His pace quickened, and your instincts kicked in. You reached for your gun, but before you could draw it, a loud BANG! shattered the tense silence.

“Kyaaa!!!” The sound of the gunshot set off a wave of screams from everyone inside the store, including Lori. The chaos erupted around you, but you and Bucky remained focused.

You threw yourself in front of Lori, protecting her with your body. Bucky did the same, his gaze locked on the threats.

“You—” you started, trying to catch your breath.

“We don’t have much time,” Bucky cut you off, his voice a low growl. He grabbed your arm, pulling you up, and snatched his own gun. Without another word, he started firing, taking out the shooters one by one.

You joined him in the fray, your movements sharp and efficient. Bullets flew and bodies hit the floor. Bucky’s sharp eyes and quick reflexes contrasted with your precise, practiced shots.

“Your aim’s getting rusty,” Bucky grunted as he took down another opponent.

“Shut up,” you retorted, focusing on the task at hand.

In no time, the immediate threat was neutralized. You both made a break for your car, adrenaline surging. Bucky took the driver’s seat, his expression grim and focused.

“Wait…” you began, but Bucky cut you off.

“Just put on your seatbelt first,” he said tersely, glancing at you with an intensity that brooked no argument.

You complied, snapping the seatbelt into place as Bucky threw the car into gear. The ride was tense, an awkward silence hanging between you and Bucky. Lori, however, was brimming with curiosity.

She tugged at Bucky’s leather jacket, causing him to glance at her. The way she looked at him, her eyes wide with awe, reminded you of how she had always romanticized the world.

“Are you the one who sent that email to my aunt?” Lori asked, her voice tinged with a mix of excitement and expectation.

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t respond, turning his attention back to the road.

Lori turned to you, her eyes glowing with revelation. “I get it. Both of you were spies! But you couldn’t be together because of your jobs! A forbidden love! This is so romantic!”

"!!!!!"

Your jaw dropped, and Bucky’s expression shifted to one of utter disbelief. The two of you exchanged a stunned look, unsure whether to laugh or feel embarrassed by Lori’s innocent but surprisingly accurate guess.

The air in the car seemed to crackle with the weight of her words, as the reality of your intertwined past and present hung in the balance.

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[katsukikitten]

Izuku doesn't have many vices, mostly because he doesn't allow himself to indulge in any. Thinking them more as nasty habits or stains on his perfect PR record than anything else. Like headaches he'd rather avoid or didn't seem worth the bashing he'd receive from fans and haters online.

But that didn't mean he never indulged.

Especially with the weight of being the number one hero pressing down onto his broad shoulders, pushing him further into his sulking as he drapes himself over the smooth bar top. Half finished handle of liquor under his scarred palm, swirling the last dredges of the clear liquid inside as he thinks about ordering another.

Izuku was only here at this tiny lively bar in the small forgotten prefecture of Tokyo because Kaminari dragged him here. The electric blonde wasn't sure if Izuku had a girlfriend or not, he knew his occasional hero partner to be secretive about his love life which was the opposite of Kaminari who often advertised just how single he was. Denki dragged the hulking hero because Izuku needed to “live a little” and it was “cuffing season.”

Izuku didn't know what that meant.

Googling it is how he finds himself on the brink of a spiral with his perfectly white teeth sinking into the inside of his lip before his tongue laps at the metallic tang that floods his mouth.

It doesn't stop his teeth from sinking into tender flesh, it doesn't stop him from swallowing down more burning booze or sighing loudly.

He just can't stomach the thought of having to face his mother without a date during the holidays again this year. Don't mistake this concern for self pity nor vanity. Izuku is not the type of man who thinks he deserves to have people fawning at his feet, hell the man often grappled with feeling deserving of his given quirk on a daily basis more often than not.

But the way his mother looks when she opens the door, how her big smile drops the slightest when Izuku shows up and no one is there under his arm or holding his hand. Or awkwardly smiling as they meet his mom and Yagi-san for the first time even though they'd been dating for a good long while.

Izuku is just too busy, he doesn't mean to be, tried to board his PTO to take a long hiatus or two from work so he could dote on his partner.

But nothing was ever good enough.

He couldn't face that look of worry or concern from his mother, not again.

It wasn't for lack of trying on Izuku's part either, blind dates arranged by his mother or friends, even the agency! Dating app after dating app leading to dead ends or lack of intimacy leaving Izuku to feel hollow, desperate, enough to seek out other lonely heroes that wanted nothing more than sex.

Still he took everything seriously, maybe too seriously, and things just never worked out.

Yet the hopeless romantic in him never wavered and he thought he had one last shot at love when the hero agency set up an arrangement for a PR girlfriend to keep his ratings high. Izuku did everything in his power to make it work, to try to fall genuinely and deeply in love with the pretty woman who he shared his apartment with. Taking her on dates to places like the movies or to see the Sakura. Fucking her on his couch, in his car, over his dining room table after pushing away the dinner she made.

But each action only made him feel empty, more so than before. There was no spark between them, at least not on his end and Izuku couldn't stomach the idea of leading her on. Especially not when Izuku saw hearts forming in her eyes from more than just sex.

It ended in a mess when she confessed she loved him while straddling his lap and he went soft inside her. Fat tears threatening to fall that he blinks away before she gets up to slap him, he doesn't feel anything.

She breaks her fingers.

Breeching her contract that Izuku buys out when the agency threatens to sue her, the only time the commission head ever saw Izuku's bright emerald eyes narrow and darken.

He doesn't understand why he can't keep anyone around, he begins to think he is the problem.

That maybe his expectations were too high? Maybe he didn't devote enough time? Or maybe he really truly didn't feel anything when he was with any of the men and women he dated in the past save for one.

He expected love to be like the movies and of course Kaachan called him a dumb ass for it. That romantic sappy shit, movies that Izuku and Katsuki had watched curled together on Izuku's couch, “weren't fucking real.”

Only for the blonde traitor to move in with a woman he knew for less than six months when Katsuki kept telling Izuku it was too soon to move in with him despite them secretly fucking for a year and knowing each other all their lives.

Izuku finished the second half of his bottle.

His phone demands attention, chirping from the pocket of his jeans as Kamianri’s laugh echoes over the confined space. Izuku reads the banner on the illuminated glass, the text is from his mother.

Is it just you this year, honey?

Before a second one comes through.

Yagi is asking so we know to put the leaf in. We don't mind when you bring extra company. Kaachan and his girlfriend were a pleasant surprise last year.

But I'll be more than happy to just see my son.

Guilt floods his system, heavy in his chest that it forces a groan from his throat. Idle hand coming to clampe and squeeze harshly at the nape of his neck. Finger shaped bruises forming under thick digits in the hairline of his undercut, his emerald curls doing little to hide it. As the pain ebbs pleasantly down his spine he thinks to pat down his jeans seeking out the familiar rectangular outline before he slides off of the wobbling stool.

Pushing open the heavy door to the secluded alley with ease, mind sharp and feet steady as he looks around. Alcohol never had much effect on him due to his large stature and even larger metabolism leaving him to drink an obscene amount of booze before he felt a pleasant buzz. Tonight he hadn't had nearly enough to ease his shattered heart.

Jagged emerald eyes cut through the alley before he lets the tension in his shoulders release but not enough he'd be off guard. He remembers Stain and his legacy, he knows society still remembers the hero killer too. Knows that most heroes don't necessarily die in action but when they're most vulnerable. Throats slit while they were asleep, fucking, or stepping out into a dark alley in the middle of the night for a smoke.

The thought does little to soothe the aching need in his throat, to feel the burn that could dissolve the lump that sits uncomfortably behind his Adam's apple. Pulling out the half crushed pack of cigarettes and placing one between his lips. Dark orange lighter flickering to life as he rolls over the steel and flint before he takes a deep breath.

Only to instantly regret it.

Stale smoke clots his lungs and coats his tongue, still the acrid taste doesn't stop him from pulling another drag. Mind wandering far beyond where he stood, willing the smoke to smother his hopeless heart.

“Didn't you have a campaign ad against those?” You purr, watching the bulky man tense as his head snaps up to face you.

Izuku hadn't seen anything and his danger sense didn't go off when he surveyed the alley but it does now. A tingling in the soles of his feet as he looks up at you shrouded in the shadow of the neighboring building on the fire escape a foot or so next to his head. You jump down with ease and lean against the rough brick wall next to him. Close enough your elbows touch.

Watching the giant of a man fumble over the stick in his mouth making a cruel smile form on your own.

“Number one hero smoking, tsk tsk, what if I'm an impressionable young lady?” You giggle and it clings to Izuku's skin more than the stale smoke, he scoffs.

“You act as if you don't have a vice.” He glances down at you from the corner of his eye before tilting his head up to blow the smoke away from you.

“Everyone has a vice Mr Deku.” Brandishing your cherry tootsie pop you seemingly pull from thin air. Making a grand show of pocketing the bright red wrapper before popping it past glossy lips, eyes glued to the hero hiding outside the alley of the no name bar.

You imagined he'd be in uptown places, where the silverware was gold plated and a shot of patron was twenty dollars. Not here with the ripped leather seats held together with faded duct tape and cloudy glasses.

But here he stands in black jeans, a gray graphic tee with black sleeves from an undershirt rolled up past his thick forearms, smoking no less. The only expensive thing on him is his watch, it makes your fingers twitch.

You roll the sucker around in your mouth, letting it clink your teeth as you watch him, a harsh line for a mouth that smiled so brightly on the news this morning.

Did all heroes do this? Look pathetic in dark alleyways smoking overly stale cigarettes hoping no one sees them? He looks down at you with a calculated, cold gaze, if you were any other woman it would send a shiver down your spine. Especially from how it contrasts to his normally bright gemstone eyes now they looked clouded, jaded with unspoken emotion.

You think it serves him right, yet still your clawed hands bring out a pack of unopened cigarettes from the pocket of your oversized jacket tilting them towards the hero.

“Take these. Those have gotta be at least a year old. They don't make the packaging with the small warnings anymore.” You crinkle your nose at him, his normally doe like eyes narrow as they rove over you harshly before he quirks his brow.

It's kinda cute how bitchy he looks. You swat away the thought and he thinks he's bothering you with his smoke.

“I thought you didn't smoke.” He moves the stick further away from you.

“I don't. I lifted them off the electric blonde you came with. He's a terrible flirt you know.” Cat smile forming around the lollipop sick in your mouth, watching Izuku's eyes flash in warning, it makes you giggle, “Gonna arrest me?”

“Stealing is wrong.” He stubs out his half smoked cigarette, it disintegrates against the brick from its age and not the pressure he applies.

“So’s lyin.” A smiling retort as you shake the fresh pack at him, “I'll even pick your lucky.”

He looks down at his old ragged emergency pack with only the lucky looking back up at him. Bent and half broken from the argument he had with Katsuki almost a year ago about how Izuku couldn't stomach just sex anymore.

Looking up at you but before he can accept the offer you're already gently patting the pack against your palm, pulling the golden plastic that acts as a guide to take off the wrap from the box. Picking his lucky at random and flipping it upside down before you pass the pack to him. He sighs and takes the box, looks down at the fresh pack and looks back up at you. Sees your smug smile.

“Thanks. Going to black mail me now?” He decides he should have another since his first one was so awful. Pulling the dark orange lighter from his pocket to start a good ember.

“No, I think I've got enough collateral.” Flaunting his expensive, classy watch on your wrist. Well about mid forearm for you, “Secrets safe with me.”

Instinctually his broad palms slaps his wrist where his watch should be, as if he doesn't believe his eyes. Glancing back up at you again wholly expecting you to be already at the mouth of the alley but you stay close to him. Well within arms reach and step closer to him still.

He blows the smoke up into the sky again, keeps the cigarette on the opposite side of you.

“I've got more expensive ones in my apartment.” He comments it almost comes off flirty until you see how sad his emerald eyes look. Izuku wants to ‘be a man', wants to take you home and fuck the brains out of your pretty head but his heart swells in agony, he sighs out more smoke.

“Is this you trying to take me home? Ooo so heroes do have one night stands!” A teasing nudge to his ribs, he doesn't even budge, just moves the burning stick up higher so the smoke won't stick to you.

“I don't do one night stands.”

“Then why invite me to see your expensive watch collection hmm? Tryin to get me to steal your heart instead?”

“Maybe I am.” His gaze flickers to you again, holding your eyes as his lids are at half mast.

Did anyone even know the number one hero could give fuck me eyes?

“Steal my heart, be my girlfriend.” He looks down at you, sees what he registers as panic, “Just through the holidays.”

You blink up at him for a moment as he studies you. Drinks in how those black skinny jeans cling to your thick legs, how the fishnets do little to keep his thoughts pure and that little lingerie you wore as a top had his dick twitching. Left fist clenching when his eyes look over a man's leather jacket on your broad shoulders.

He thought about all the jackets he owned so he could replace the well worn garment on your shoulders with his own.

“I'll pay you.” Taking a long drag, feeling desperation claw up his throat competing with the burn of nicotine, “Pay you a lot more than what that watch is worth.”

The idea of it makes you laugh loudly, the pretty sound echoing around the alley as you grip onto his forearm for stability. He had to be fucking drunk, there was no way he was asking a theif to be his fake girlfriend, what was this a shojo manga?

But when you look up at him and see his freckled cheeks flush with embarrassment you swallow down the rest of your mirth.

“Oh you're serious.” Pulling the cherry sucker from your mouth, letting your lips pop around it lewdly, Izuku watches with close emerald eyes his mind wandering down places it shouldn't, especially not with a woman he's just met. Still thick digits twitch as he tries not to palm himself roughly.

“What the number one hero can't get a girlfriend?” You deadpan and this time it's his turn to laugh except there isn't any joy in it.

“Ha. No. Haven't you heard? I'm too much of a ‘fucking nerd.’ Guess Kaachan was right.” He stubs out his cigarette before pocketing the butt since there was no tray in the back alley.

His admission gives you pause, pressing the cherry confection back on your tongue roughly before you pull it into your mouth taking it from manicured nails. Pushing the sucker to poke out your cheek making Izuku's long lashes flutter.

“Kaachan?’ You giggle, looking up as you move the sucker from one side of your mouth to the other with your tongue. Hard candy clacking against your teeth, “You mean Katsuki? That's Dynamight’s given name right?”

Shit shit shit! He hadn't meant to call him that! How did you figure it out so quickly!

“Oh! Oh please don't say anything!” He looks mortified and you watch his cheeks turn as red as your tongue.

“Don't worry Zuzu. Your secret is safe with me.” Crunching down on the last thin layer before the taste of chocolate coats your tongue swallowing the Tootsie roll and Izuku watches your Adam's apple bob while his mind swirls with dirty thoughts.

Thoughts so dirty he almost misses you add,

“Gonna need bigger pay to keep quiet.” Nails tapping his watch, “Sides can't say I'll be a good girlfriend. I hate everything after Halloween. My birthday included.”

“What? Everyone loves the holidays!” He's shocked you've said that and you shake your head.

“No, everyone with good or whole families love the holidays.” You correct and he looks down at you with a frown. Already you pick up on a habit of his, teeth worrying the inside of his lip as he thinks, “I currently have neither.”

“Oh I'm-”

“Don't. I don't need the mighty hero’s pity.” You scoff, sounding a little jaded before you fix your face, turning to a joke as another smile pulls at your pretty lips, “Not when I can take his money instead.”

“Cute.” He scoffs sarcastically, still he can't deny the flutter in his stomach.

“You're kinda bitchy ya know that?” You smile, “The media makes you out to be Prince Charming.”

“I don't look like Prince Charming?” He gestures to himself and you laugh loudly again. He can't help the heat that creeps up his throat.

“Bet you fuck like Prince Charming too. All vanilla and boring.” Struggling to stifle yet another giggle.

“If you accept the offer to be my girlfriend you can find out if that's true or not.” Quickly his demeanor changes, emerald eyes darkening as they slowly drag up and down your body with a sinful gaze. The sight of him looking down his nose at you makes your stomach clench. You shouldn't be considering his offer now from one intense gaze. A hero and a morally gray person never worked out and it was only a matter of time before your thievery caught up with. You really shouldn't but you know what they say.

Curiosity killed the cat

“Fine. I'll be your little girlfriend til new years. When do we start?”

“Tonight.” He leans close letting his large hand slide down your forearm to your wrist til his fingers are lacing with yours, “It's so late, I really should get you home, shouldn't I baby?”

Emerald eyes sparkling with promise that he planned to devour you whole the second the two of you stepped foot into his penthouse apartment.

“Yes, you should. It is so very late."

“Oh my god IZUKUUUUU fuck fuck fuck!” You scream as you grind onto his handsome face, cumming on his skilled tongue for the umpteenth time in the half an hour you've been in his apartment. Mauve nails around his throat as you choke him slightly, shamelessly riding his face to prolong your high, not that he would dare interrupt it. Groaning loudly under you as he slowly yanks at his fat long cock that leaks with pre. Hungry eyes watching him as you let out another breathy moan.

“Fuck and you've never had a girlfriend before?” he laughs in your cunt at your question. Strong hands coming to lift you off his face with ease so you can hear him better.

“I know I said I was a nerd but I never said I was a virgin.” Before he roughly adjusts you back on his cute freckled face, slurping your clit roughly as mock punishment for interrupting him. Your eyes cross and your thighs squeeze his head.

“Fuck.” You whine and he's rewarded with more of your slick as you cum again, Izuku already decided that he loves how you whine curses for him. Feels you start to slump from the pleasure as your body melts, offering you his hand to support you better as you grind into his face before you can't anymore.

Before this insatiable man lifts you with ease, flipping you onto your back when the needle of the record player hits the center of the vinyl. Pressing you into the dark couch with his pelvis as he wets his cock by grinding into your sticky folds, making you gasp out like he wants before he's gently cradling your throat, slipping his tongue into your open mouth as he groans.

“We taste so good together.” He growls, the sound makes you see stars, especially as his fat cock head nudges against your abused clit. Catching your fluttering entrance and it makes you both shudder before he angles himself properly. Slowly sinking in and watching your face for any signs of pain or displeasure. Watching your eyes roll with each passing moment before he rested against you. Giving slow, rough thrusts that grind down into your clit that have your hands shaking at his back as claws struggle to find purchase in his skin.

“And you're telling me these girls didn't stay for the dick either? Fuck Izuku!!!!” Arching your back, if you weren't careful you'd become addicted to him, your question makes him hide his face into your throat.

“Guess sex isn't enough.” He mumbles against your tacky skin.

“That or you're not telling me something.” You gasp at the end, when he keeps hitting that spot and makes you cum each time. Makes a deep tension in you dissipate until you feel as if you're floating, you wouldn't be able to speak much longer.

He thinks you'll pull away but instead you thread your fingers into his sweaty curls to bring his face to yours. To look deep into his eyes even if you struggle before you seal your lips with his. Letting your tongue slide over his until you moan his name into his mouth.

“Oh fuck Izuku, you have to cum in me now. Fuck fuck you're throbbing.” Your cunt clamps down on him at the thought of his warm seed spilling into your milking cunt. He pants over you, still keeping that steady slow roll of his hips but how you squeeze him makes him insane. Makes his hips finally speed up before his pace turns sloppy.

His moans turning into loud grunts as he fucks you with enough vigor the legs of the couch scrape against the expensive hardwoods until he's cupping your throat again but never squeezes. Looking down at you and you don't dare look away as you watch his long lashes flutter, the sight makes the coil in your stomach snap again. Feel him paint your cunt in pearly strings of white before he slowly lowers himself on shaking arms, giving your throat a tender squeeze before he rests his head in the crook of your throat, he hadn't intended for the two of you to fuck already. Hell he didn't even mean to rip off your jeans and set you on his face so he could show you that he really wasn't boring.

And he sure as fuck didn't meant to fill up your pretty cunt with his spend.

“What are you doing to me?” He pants playfully, kissing at your thudding pulse point.

“Stealing your heart, remember?” A breathless giggle as the two of you lie like that until his cock begins to soften. He sighs, slowly gets to his feet before he's lifting you into his arms, it makes your cheeks warm, especially when you look down at the soaked fabric of the sofa.

“I think we ruined your couch.” He laughs at your joke.

“Ts fine, the covers are machine washable.” He nudges his nose into your cheek and you giggle before he's setting you on the edge of the tub as he starts the shower for you.

“Here's how to adjust the water temp if you need it hotter. Most women love it scalding.” He takes a step back, moving to grab for a fresh towel for you. You try not to let your heart sink when you realize he isn't going to join you.

“Oh a real casanova huh?” He rolls his eyes at your playful jab before he steps into his bedroom to give you privacy for the time being. Fishing out a T-shirt and clean boxers for both himself and you to sleep in. Laying yours out on the bed as he smells his body wash float from under the snowy glass door. It makes him smile as he thinks of how you'll smell like him until he takes you to gather your things from your place tomorrow, that or he'll buy you whatever you want or need.

For now he'll relish the idea that you, his fake girlfriend, gets to smell like him, your fake boyfriend.

After awhile you come into the room, clean and pristine, movement catching Izuku's eye of course. When you meet his eyes you smile, give a little twirl.

“It's Chanel.” Letting your fingers adjust the hem of the regular cotton towel and Izuku laughs.

“Is it? Lemme see.” He rises, holds your hand to twirl you again as he looks down at you with a smile, “Perfect fit.”

“Thank you.” You giggle again, feeling shy for the first time under his heavy gaze. Watching the corner of his lips tilt upward before he points out the clothes he left out for you and slips into the bathroom. Surprisingly you don't hear the lock click to the door, Izuku was either far too trusting or he truly did not see you as a threat to his life.

Quick to change into the oversized, old shirt and boxers before you take this opportunity to explore his penthouse now that the six foot four man wasn't pressing himself up against you.

Tiptoeing out of his room even if you knew you didn't need to, whetting your curiosity first with the living room that was adorned with ceiling to floor windows to the left when you first came in. Your breath fogging the window as you look over the cityscape. A snaking inky black cuts through the bright lights, the wide river bed reflecting the lights back in swirling currents giving the scene the stars the sky lacks.

Even this late at night the prefecture is teaming with life, you wonder if it's exhausting for him. To sonder over the lives that carry out beneath his feet. If he wonders if he can save them all.

If he knows he can't.

The needle of the record player bumps against the middle of the vinyl again pulling you from your thoughts.

“Oh.” You squeak, tiptoeing to the old thing and gently lifting the arm. Finding the album cover and slipping the vinyl in with ease before shutting off the player. Eyes quick to find the empty spot on the wall to where the album goes.

Not on the shelves under the player, no those were jam-packed with composition notebooks unlabeled making your curious fingers twitch. The album belongs up on the wall with the rest of them that he organized beautifully. Each piece placed perfectly to compliment each piece of art so that it could be viewed individually or if you stood back you could see it as something whole.

Standing on tiptoes to return its album art facing forward. Taking a step or two back to appreciate it before the notebooks whisper to you.

Slipping one from the shelves, it's filled margin to margin with text about the albums. The notations were meticulously detailed reminding you of placards at museums or art exhibits. Finding the corresponding piece, staring up at the art before your eyes flicker down to the notes.

…when the music swells it squeezes my heart, the lyrics were chosen carefully bringing tears to my eyes. It's haunting how relatable it is to wonder if I'll get a perfect love and if I do that I'm deserving….

You swallow thickly, know you'll get swallowed up by this notebook that you didn't have the time to dissect, especially not with the limited amount of time you had. It felt akin to a diary, something you shouldn't be reading. Normally that wouldn't discourage you, wouldn't have your fingers slowly shutting the book. Normally you'd devour as much as you could with an excuse on why you weren't where you were supposed to be on the tip of your tongue.

For now you return it to the shelf.

Feet carrying you across the cool hardwood to the open concept kitchen that over looks the living room with the album art, expensive couch and the TV. The large waterfall island made of marble, clean and smooth save for a few scattered pieces of Izuku's life he hadn't yet tidied away like the rest of the apartment.

Another notebook, a theme it seems, lying open. A sketch of a hero on the left with text surrounding them before paragraphs of text and few bullet points to the page on the right again in Izuku's slightly messy handwriting. As if his hand cannot keep up with his brain.

Snow Fall - similar to Shouto’s ice quirk…

“Beloved?” Izuku's voice calls gently from down the hall, you tear your eyes away from the notebook and quickly open a few cabinets before you find a glass and fill it from the tap.

“M coming! Just needed water.” Heading back to huge bedroom, smiling devilishly when you find Izuku.

Seeing his body better in the light of the bedroom. Scarred, thick with muscle and soft freckles kissing almost every inch of his skin. The tan spots giving extra attention to his Adonis belt that leads to his fat cock. It makes your cunt throb.

You set the AllMight collectable glass down onto the bedside table, not noticing the fanboy item until you see his flushed cheeks, following his eyes to the PLUS ULTRA cup. The source of his embarrassment makes you giggle again.

“It's cute.” You reassure, jumping on top of the deep viridian duvet, cocking your hand on your hip and pulling your shirt up to show a little skin.

“When's the last time you fucked on this great big bed?” He doesn't answer you right away, basil eyes looking at you before they begin to look through you.

A burning ember gaze sears his memory, he closes his eyes as if that would stop the images from demanding every last shred of his attention..

“Been awhile.” He finally admits, dropping his towel unashamed as he steps into his black boxer briefs. They cup his sac and softened cock nicely, clinging to his thick thighs that have you salivating. The way he ate pussy and fucked was almost good enough to replace the cold hard cash he promised to pay, almost.

That distant look in his eyes made you wonder if there was someone else that held him back from his romantic endeavors.

“Shall we christen this great big bed too then?” A playful tease as you pull up the fabric of his shirt to expose your breasts. He loved the sight, loved how you looked in his clothes, in his bed, underneath him as his emerald pendant swings in your face.

His cock twitches, a tick in his jaw before he's clasping his hands in restraint. Wringing his fingers as he thinks of the last time he fucked in that bed.

He feels the ghost of sharp canines at the nape of his neck, his hand automatically moves to brush over the area. His curls fall over his eyes and he sighs deeply.

“No. I think you should sleep.” He smiles softly, it doesn't reach his eyes and you don't push, “We've got a big day tomorrow. Got to get your stuff and -”

“I don't have a lot of stuff. My outfit was the most of it.”

“You don't have any other clothes?”

“Maybe another pair of pants, some underwear for sure but this is mostly it. So we have time.” You purr, crawling down the bed before you flop onto your stomach. Arching your back purposefully, out stretching your fingers to play with his.

“Then it will be even longer. We'll have to get you an outfit for the party.” He threads his fingers with yours before you let go when his words register. Sitting straight up.

“Party?”

“Yes, baby doll, party. We've got several to go to. Maybe a gala too. Then there's the agency Christmas party oh and…” He bites at his lip as he rest his chin on scarred digits beginning to go off on a tangent as he thinks of all the invitations stuffed in the top desk drawer of his office.

“A gala?!” Oh fuck oh fuck this was a bad idea. When he said girlfriend through the holidays you thought fucking and a private date or two. Not being surrounded by pro heroes you ran from on the daily, identity concealed with a mask.

Not only would you be in the literal lion’s den but you really weren't the most classy type of bitch. You've never really been invited to any big event let alone one that was fucking televised. At least not events you didn't crash to slide priceless paintings off the walls or expensive jewelry off the wrists of the one percent. At least then you'd have your mask to hide behind, the ability to blend into the crowd but now you'd be hanging off the arm of the number one hero.

You'd have to act like a proper lady who definitely didn't crash in vacation homes or half lived in apartments of the rich and the famous while they stayed in their main mansions until they got tired of the same old four walls.

Each gig you promised that this would be your last and each time you found yourself with a new piece of jewelry made from dazzling gems of deconstructed designer pieces hungry for the next heist.

Art and jewelry weren't the only things you've stolen, information and secrets often sold for a lot more but Izuku, pro hero Deku, didn't need to know you had a stash house, more like stash attic, in some rundown home in Kamakura you'd gotten for a steal.

His thighs bump up against the edge of the bed, cupping your cheeks for a moment, “You look…worried.”

“I am worried. Some of these events are televised. Are you sure you want me? I'm not exactly Yaoyorozu or Kendo."

“I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't.” He comes down to press his lips to your forehead. It makes your stomach flutter, it shouldn't, “Besides those will be the easiest ones. The hard ones are the more personal settings.”

He leans back, takes his hands from your face as he heads towards the lights, “I won't let anything happen to you.”

He flicks off the lights, stands by the door for a moment before he goes to shut it.

“You're really going to sleep on the couch? I thought we had to make this realistic.” A final attempt to get him to at least come and enjoy his luxury bed. It was big enough that you doubted the two of you would even touch by accident in the middle of the night. If he was so afraid of intimacy, which was odd, he seemed more the time to fall in love if he fucked. Especially when he did romantic shit like fuck you to music and whisper some of the lyrics in your ear.

You pat his side with sharp clawed fingers, “Come on boyfriend.”

He can't remember the last time he slept in his bed, changing and washing the sheets more out of habit than necessity and as he tries to recall he thinks it's been over a year.

He looks at you for a long, long time, you curled up in his expensive sheets and comforter as you pat the spot beside you patiently but he sighs.

“Maybe another time. Good night sugar.”

“Good night Zuzu bear.”

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Vendetta! Leon x a younger reader who dresses up for him? Like just hard porn of reader in a little maid dress for him… and him fucking her so hard while she’s in it.. idk.. man Leon just deserves a pretty partner who dresses up let’s him fuck her whenever or however he pleases…. His little baby… his stress toy.. his whore.. omfg 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣

EVERYONE SHUT UP RN I NEED. First request post of the night hehe. It’s NOT proof read so any mistakes just pretend they’re not there ok babies

DISCLAIMER: This blog is strictly 18+! Please do not interact if you are underaged or don’t have age indicators anywhere in your blog! tysm

It’s very short but it’s just a little blurb!! hope you guys don’t mind that ofc i have tons of stuff in my inbox rn </3

afab reader x older! vendetta Leon

Vacation. Leon simply just wanted some time off. He felt so bad that everytime he came home you were so excited to see him, rambling on to him about how you made him dinner, and you folded all his clothes for him. His heart aching as he put his hand up as a signal for you to stop talking as he popped the pain medication in his mouth, washing it down with the lemonade you had made him. His eyebrows frowned as he looked up, noticing how clean the house was, how you even put his jacket up for him as soon as he got home. He felt so guilty, knowing that even on top of doing college, you did all of this for him every single day.

His hand grabbed at the railing of the stairs as he walked up the steps, noticing the light from door shut off. Fuck, you were going to bed. Right when he reached for the door, it swung open.

Knowing Leon had been so stressed, you’ve been doing everything to make him feel better and nothing was working. His tension built up more everyday, even his kisses were rougher. You scrolled online for hours before finally finding it. The perfect little maid outfit you knew would push Leon so blissfully over the edge. Leon’s eyes scanned every inch of your body. The way it was skimpy but not overly skimpy, your thick thighs pressing against each other, the pretty apron resting so beautifully on your waist.

“For me?”

Leon’s words came out so seductively and it shot straight to your core, your shy side drowning you as you nodded your head up to him, your fingers playing with the lace of the outfit. Leon’s head shook as his hands reached out, smoothing over the softness of your chest.

“So pretty.”

He mumbled as he pushed you into the room, almost stumbling but he caught you so fast by the hips. His touch was rough, only to your skin though. He wanted to ruin you, all his anger was now surfacing but to his cock, himself sighing as he licked his lips as he pushed you face down into the bed. Your back arched up into him, your ass pressing so perfectly against his strained cock suffocating in his jeans. You knew him so well, your body pushing back into him, your skirt lifting revealing the plain white panties under, a small wet patch forming on the outside. Leon loved the simple things. His hand stopped your grinding, a yelp leaving your lips as he tore at the panties. He tossed them somewhere but didn’t care knowing he would buy you brand new ones later.

“Wanted you to take your time and enjoy..”

Your pretty glossed lips pouted back at him as he picked you up, throwing you further into the bed. His eyes rolled as his hand reached down, lifting your hips in the air. The sound of his belt unbuckling made your fingers grab at the sheets in excitement, but before you could even look back at him again his cock was so deep in you, your walls struggling to shape around him. A broken cry left your lips as you tried to pull your hips away from him but he grabbed at your waist, pulling you up so your back was flush against his still clothed chest. Your head shook as he began to push in and out of you. No matter how many times Leon fucks you, his cock will always just be to big.

“Leon please- ‘s to much”

You whimpered out as your smaller hands scratched at his arm. He was so big compared to you, it was scary how easily he could overpower you. Leon smirked against the shell of your ear as his hands ran over the lacey material of the dress.

“Cmon’ be a good little girl, let me use my pussy.”

Leon whispered in your ear before his palms pushed you down back onto your stomach, his hands holding at your hips as he drilled into you. The room filled with the sounds of his low growls and groans, and the smacking of his pelvis hitting your ass. His body leaned over yours, kissing the back of your neck as his thrusts went from fast and harsh to slow, and overly deep. With every stroke small whimpers left your lips as he kissed at your shoulders.

“That’s my fucking girl.. Always here for me huh? With this tight little- mm fuck.. so fucking good for me.”

Your whines and moans stopped, making a laugh leave Leon’s throat as his hips stuttered. He reached down pulling your hair away from your face to watch as you chewed at your puffy lower lip, your body already riding through its second orgasm. His grip got tighter on your hips as he plunged himself further into you, a whimpered moan leaving his lips as strings of his cum shot into you, your face twisting in blissful discomfort. Leon sat on his knees, his hand running over the back of your thighs smirking as he watched his cum make its way out of you, his fingers shoving it back into you before he carefully flipped you on your back.

A sigh of content left his lips as he laid his head against your chest, your fingers plunging into his hair as he took in your scent, listening to your heart beat.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You whispered down to him as he shook his head in response.

“Maybe tomorrow angel, let me relax.”

He mumbled, kissing your skin as his eyes closed.

[squeakadeeks]

Fabric overview: Neoprene scuba

next up on my favorite fabrics is neoprene scuba! This is a newer fabric to me but once i started using it, i couldnt stop haha.

neoprene scuba is a polyester double knit fabric with a sponge-spacer in between that can vary in size from barely noticeable to 3mm or more. its sometimes referred to as spacer fabric as a result. the term "scuba" can be thrown around a lot, but it typically refers to a thick, double knit poly fabric. It will usually have stretch via the knit weave. (this is something to watch out for, consistency in labeling is worth making note of)

I love neoprene scuba for its ability to hold smooth, defined forms. the thickness is great for smoothing, and the spongey layer gives it a good, shapely body structure. plus the double knit weave creates a soft finish. because of these properties, its my #1 go to for cartoony costumes.

neoprene scuba is also great for bodysuits and form-fitting things as well due to its smoothing properties. I like it a lot for boot covers.

Typically the two main things i use scuba for are bodysuits and capes. Capes for the shape, bodysuits for the smoothing. also it doesnt fray much so I have on occasion left edges raw!

Things to watch out for: 1) as was alluded to, its not easy to shop for. because of the variation in sponge thickness, if youre buying online its not easy to tell if youre getting a thinner, standard double knit or a true spacer scuba. also the terms can be hard to track from neoprene, scuba, spacer, bonded wetsuit fabric, etc. it takes some footwork to find the right fabric. 2) by nature, its a stretch fabric and its not easy to make...unstretchy. this stretch can pose challenges for draping, especially on capes. 3) its heavy and its itchy. no surprise that twice the layers of fabric mean that it can get heavy fast, and the sponge layer is made of little polyester pokers that can irritate the hell out of skin. lining a bodysuit or finishing internal seams is a must. 4) neoprene isnt easy to top stitch. its like trying to top stitch marshmallow. i havent been able to top stitch neoprene in a way that doesnt create a rounded bump effect (which hey, you might even want depending on the application). 5) its a thick heavy fabric, so its another needlesnapper when sewing. also because the dual layers, pressing seams is not always easy. 6) sometimes it has a waterproof finish that makes paining hard, ive also had the sponge layer *literally* suck paint up when trying to airbrush it. (again, think about how applying watery paint to a sponge would go)

despite the downsides, its a fast favorite of mine. what it can do well, it does *so* well. its a special fabric thats akin to sewing with a thin layer of plush marshmallow (as as mentioned...pros and cons to that)

I get my neoprene fabric from big Z mostly, but its also offered at fabric wholesale direct and spandex world. jo anns also has some fascinating scuba suedes that im a big fan of as well. it has a price point between 9-20$ a yard.

[chilewithcarnage]

psa if youre a fat bitch (gender neutral) like me who hates the summer and sweats a lot & thusly becomes a buffet for mosquitoes, get you some of this

and one of these

these are the off! familycare smooth and dry repellent and thermacell mr300 portable repeller. the off smooth and dry spray in my experience is hands down the best repellent ive used so far because of its powder finish it stays on my skin even while sweating, stays effective at repelling, doesn't have that awful greasy residue that typical repellent sprays have and can also help with thigh chafing. they can be found in the pest control/camp & sports/seasonal section at most stores and cost around $7 (wouldn't recommend buying it at walgreens and cvs, they hella upcharge).

the thermacell unit works by acting almost like a miniature stove. its non electric and runs on butane cartridges which is what that white plastic tube is. you insert it into the bottom of the repeller and slide one of the scent pads (those blue squares) underneath the upper grate and onto the heating plate. how it works is that the butane heats up the plate and releases the scent of the blue pads into the air. it works as a mosquito repellant because the scent masks your smell so the mosquitoes can't pick it up and bite you lol. this one is very effective and the best part of it is that one scent pad lasts for 4 hours (butane lasts for 12), you don't have to put anything on your skin, and it repels up to a 15 foot radius. these usually go for between $19-25 online and at any store that has a camping & sports section. i recommend that if you want this and plan on doing a lot of walking around outside to get the clip on holster (sold separately for about $15).

okay thats enough corporate shilling, stay cool stay safe and stay bug bite free my fellow big body bugattis 👍🏾 👍🏾👍🏾

[bonny-kookoo]

Hi Bonny! I adore your writing so much! 🫶🏻 I wonder how ILY Jungkook got into buying toys for YN for sexy time. Was there a discussion prior? Can you write something on it especially how he used the remote control vibrator with her? Were they at home or outside? Or just chilling? Thank you! 🙈

A/N: My all-time favorite horny-couple, thanks for requesting something for them haha

Jungkook is like a Pokémon. He's evolving with every day, gaining experience and leveling up with every single hour he's alive- becoming more and more powerful, while staying oddly cute at the same time. If you had to compare him to one, you'd probably choose something like Dragonite, with his big round eyes and powerful body.

Maybe he'd even be the shiny version. Rare and special.

But right now, he's just so- uniquely Jungkook again, as he unboxes the white box with the distinctive writing on the front, fingers trying to find the tape holding everything shut, a pout on his lips. His glasses are sliding down a bit, hair pulled back with one of your hairties, and he's just.. almost innocent looking, sitting there at the kitchen table.

Innocent- if he wasn't unboxing a fucking sex-toy he'd bought for you online.

"Ah, there." He finally finds the tape, ripping it off before he opens the box, the toy safely tucked away in a velvet little bag he unties, to take out the hot pink object for him to inspect. "Oh, that feels nice.." He hums, fingers feeling the smooth surface while you're completely in awe, watching him just.. act as if this is the most normal thing in the world. "You mentioned it, I think, and it was on discount online-" He explains, taking out the instructions before he unlocks his phone to install the app connected to the toy.

That's the thing with Jungkook you still have to learn. Once you mention something to him- something you'd like to do, or something you want, he will almost always try to either buy that thing, do what you'd mentioned with him, or find something close to it instead, if what you wish for isn't in reach for him.

"Jungkook- those are expensive-" You say, sitting down on the kitchen table close to him, while he sets up the device, getting a bit startled when it buzzes to life for a second.

"Oh, it needs to charge first." He says, taking out the charger, that distinctive pout present yet again as he tries to understand the magnetic charging port. "We can try it out some other time when you like. The reviews were good and it wasn't as expensive as they usually are either-" He hums, as you move to sit on his lap, his arms almost instinctively wrapping around you to keep you in place.

"You always listen to me so well, Jungkookie.." You hum into his chest, leaning your head on his shoulder. "You don't have to do stuff like this to make me happy- you know that right?" You ask, and he nods, a hand on your back while the other makes sure to properly connect the charger, red LED glowing to indicate it's status.

"I know." He shrugs. "Take this as.. something for us both." He jokes, before you adjust your legs a little, accidentally sitting right on his crotch in a way that's clearly not comfortable. "Aw fuck!" He laughs, and you can't help but laugh as well.

"God Jungkook, your dick always get's in between our fluffy moments!" You complain, and he rolls his eyes, hands under your thighs adjusting you once more so you don't hurt him. "How did touching a toy make you half-hard again?" You argue, and he instantly gets defensive, scoffing at you.

"I'm not even remotely hard, what are you talking about!" He denies, and you squint your eyes at him suspiciously. "Honestly!" He says, and you lean back at that, arms crossed, shamelessly looking between his legs. You tend to forget that he's pretty.. impressive, even when he isn't hard at all. He's not just a grower, after all.

"Why not?" You suddenly say, and he's taken aback by it for a second. "After all, your princess-perfect-hot-as-fuck-girlfriend is literally on your lap right now." You accuse him, used to playing around like this-

but instead of being shy, your Pokémon-boyfriend must've evolved yet again when you weren't looking. Because he instead helps you sit on the table right in front of him, his hands tugging down your shorts and underwear, not even bothering to tug them off your ankles as he leans forwards, tongue wetting his lips.

"Well right now, she's sitting on the table." He corrects you, and you're still too stunned to speak as he spreads your legs, before he tucks your shirt underneath your bra to keep it out of the way. "Looking like a full-course meal.." he hums, before he pushes his chair back a bit to have better leverage, slowly leaning forwards, after he puts his glasses down next to you on the kitchen table.

"..and I'm feeling really hungry right now."

[lostcherise]

Sturdy

pairing: jesse pinkman x f!reader

summary: you bought a nightstand from whom you feared to be a serial killer online, but turns out he was the complete opposite. now you had to find a way to see him again.

warnings: smut, oral (f and m receiving), throat fucking, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, degrading names (he calls you a dirty slut)

word count: 3,037

a/n: not proof read, couldn't wait to post this lmao, also was listening to this when i was writing this

"Are you sure about this one?" your sister sighed with furrowed eyebrows. She peered over your shoulder from where you were sitting on your couch, legs crossed over one another; your laptop resting on your thighs.

"Yeah." you lied and waved her off without even turning to look at her. "What's there to be scared about? Lots of people sell and buy stuff online. It's no big deal." you said, this time you gave her a sideways glance over your shoulder. "Really." you added, trying to reassure her.

Your gaze followed your sister, as she made her way to the couch and planted herself right next to you with a sigh. Her head rolled over on her left shoulder, and she lifted her eyes to look at you disbelievingly.

"And lots of other people end up getting murdered." she countered, her eyebrows shooting up on her forehead as she tried to make her point. "Just order a brand new one from IKEA." she quipped, taking a sip from the coffee in her hands.

Disgusted and somewhat offended at her suggestion, you turned to fully look at her. "They don't make pieces like these! Plus, this one is an actual antique. Completey refurbished, too, might I add." you countered, to which your sister mock nodded in agreement, her eyes comically wide, as she looked back at you.

"Just know that I won't be crying at your funeral." and with that she dropped the subject.

────────────────────────────

Despite your sister's best efforts, you had pulled through with the online listing. So here you were, waiting inside your car at a Fred Meyer parking lot. You had arrived about 15 minutes early, as you usually did with all your appointments. Maybe that wasn't very wise, considering Alaskan winters were brutal. But, thank God for air conditioning. About 5 minutes before the arranged meeting time, you stepped out, remaining close to the door; in case it actually turned out to be a blood thirsty murderer and you had to make a quick escape.

Although you had set up a public place as a meeting place, it was still fairly quiet. There about 5 other cars parked at that moment, but it was just you out there. The rumbling sound of a large pick up rolling in from behind you caught your attention. However, you didn't get to see who was inside through the windshield, as they turned and parked at the empty parking spot directly opposite yours.

It was definitely them, that was for sure. The top of the nightstand that was just barely peeking through the truck bed of the black Ford F150 gave it away. Their truck was too polished and well kept to give off murderer vibes, you thought. Your heart thumped in your chest, as the stranger got out of their car.

Well, I'll be damned.

You now stood face to face with what could've been the hottest guy you had laid eyes on in a while. He stood just a couple inches taller than you, his eyes a striking blue. The deep, large scars adorning the right side of his face told a much darker story, but they added to the ruggedness of his looks, along with his short trimmed beard. That paired with his all black attire, screamed bad boy in your books. Which was conveniently your type; also the reason you had been painfully single for a while.

"Hey," his buttery smooth voice broke the silence. "I'm Jesse." he introduced himself with an outstretched hand.

Dumbfounded, you silently shook his hand back. Jesse gave you a funny look, and smiled at you slightly. "You wanna take a look?" he pointed his thumb towards the truck, where the nightstand was.

"Shit, yeah." you had completely forgotten about that. You observed, as he opened the truck bed, and reached for the nightstand to pull it closer.

"So, this is it. An antique, Gothic Revival handcarved, mahogany dresser, with a dark chocolate finish. A real beauty." Jesse spoke in his husky voice. To be frank, you didn't register anything of what he had just said, too busy imagining that voice saying other stuff to you. "Oh, and brand new brass handles too. Made sure the design fit the style though." he kept on rambling. It was kind of endearing how into this he was.

"I'll take it." you simply said, to which Jesse gratefully smiled.

You tried to help him carry it over to your car, but he adamantly refused. Jesse bid you goodbye, and moved to his car. Anxious, you tapped your foot against the concrete; tried to think of an excuse to get to see him again. You were far too horny and single to let on this chance pass.

"Hold up." you jogged up to him, catching him just before he was about to climb into his car. "I, uh," you paused. "I'm actually upgrading my bedroom furniture, so I'll definitely be needing more stuff." you smiled sheepishly.

Jesse simply nodded as an indication for you to keep going, his breath coming out hot and puffy against the nipping cold air. He looked at you with a faint knowing smile and waited for you to continue.

"So, I was thinking of getting your number, easier to contact." you gestured obviously. "You accept commissions, right?"

"Yeah, just text me the measurements, type of wood, color and design, and it'll be ready for you in a few weeks." Jesse informed you, his tone professional.

He was doing business, and all you could think of was ways you wanted him to fuck you.

"How 'bout you come and take the measurements now?

────────────────────────────

Okay, maybe inviting him over to your house was a bit too forward.

You stood awkwardly, and leaned against the doorframe of your bedroom, observing him as he took the measurements of your old bed.

"You want coffee?"

"Maybe next time?" he smiled and came up to stand next to you. "I'll be waiting for more details on the bed..." his voice trailed off expectantly.

It then hit you that you had never properly introduced yourself to him. A blush quickly crept its way onto your cheeks and you softly told him your name. Jesse repeated it, a soft smile dancing on his lips, as his eyes took you in. You swore your name had never sounded so beautiful and sensual coming out of someone's mouth before. To your dismay, he left your house much too soon.

It took Jesse about three weeks to complete your new bed frame. And you had to admit, that man sure did wonders with his hands. The bed frame looked stunning, and it emulated the Gothic style of your nightstand perfectly.

You silently wondered what else those hands were good for, while you helped him set up your bed. You also observed him silently; his buzzcut was slightly longer than what it was when you had first met him, and you liked it a little more. It still wasn't long enough to pull on, sadly. While Jesse was using your bathroom, you quickly put on some new sheets.

"So, whatcha think?" his voice sounded from behind you. He was leaning on the door frame, one outstretched hand resting on the door frame, while the other was in his back pocket.

"It's beautiful..." you complimented his work.

"But?" Jesse asked, sensing from your tone that you wanted to add something else. He walked up to stand behind you.

"I'm not sure if it's sturdy enough." you finally added, your voice now lower.

He looked at you with confusion painted all over his features. His frown deepened when you took one step closer to him; you could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

"Do you mind if we check?" you finally asked the burning question that was plaguing your mind ever since he had gotten there to set up the bed.

And that's when it clicked in Jesse's head. You observed as confusion slowly faded from his face. His icy blue eyes darkening, glinting with a sense of newfound lust and desire. This time, Jesse was the one to take a step forward, your bodies touching; his lips merely an inch away from yours.

"And how do you suppose we do that?" his voice was thick with need.

"I was hoping you'd show me." you almost whined.

A shocked gasp fell past your lips as Jesse harshly pushed you on the mattress. This aggressive side was unexpected, but you'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that it had gotten your panties soaked.

He grabbed both your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, and pushed your legs back into a mating press position and stood in between your legs, grinding his hardening cock against your clothed pussy.

With a rough hand on your jaw, he pulled into a hungry kiss and you couldn't help but moan into his mouth; his tongue seizing this opportunity to explore your mouth. You whined into the kiss, and ground your hips harder against his, causing him to groan.

You had never been manhandled like this before, and you were almost sure his hand was going to bruise your jaw. But it would be a big, fat lie to say that you weren't extremely turned on right now. His hand moved further down at the base of your neck, just above your clavicle. Now, his lips found their way to where his hand once was on your jaw, leaving a trail of burning kisses as he made his way down on your neck. Jesse's teeth grazed your soft skin, making sure to leave angry red marks on you.

While his left hand remained enclosed around your neck, his right one traveled down and inside your panties, shoving a finger in without a warning.

An involutary gasp fell from your lips, not because it hurt - you were so wet, it slipped in with ease - it had just caught you of guard.

"Fuck." Jesse moaned into your neck, his finger moving in and out of you, and soon a second one followed suit. "Can't wait to stretch that pussy. But I need a taste first."

"Please." you begged, gripping his shoulders tightly with both hands, as he made his way down on you while simultaneously taking off your pants and underwear.

Jesse took a moment to take in the sight in front of him. You, laid up on the bed, legs folded over your stomach, and your glistening pussy perfectly open and ready for him. He wasted no moment, and swiftly began having his way with you. He took a long lick, from up to your clit and all the way down to your slit and right back up, the tip of his tongue just barely slipping in your entrance as he did so.

You raked your fingers through his short hair, when he repeated the same action two more times, and then he focused on your clit. His tongue circled around your bud and your hips bucked against his face, causing him to bury his nose into your pussy. Your eyes moved down, and you saw him looking directly at you as he lapped at your pussy, occasionally sucking your clit softly. He then inserted a finger into you, a gesture that made your thighs squeeze around his head.

He never did break eye contact, even as you squeezed your thighs so tightly around him, you almost suffocated him. A scream left your throat as an unexpected orgasm was ripped from you, his fingers curling up inside you as they fucked out your high.

You had never cummed so hard from getting head before. Hell, you weren't even sure if you had ever come before, just from someone eating you out.

Once your thighs fell limp on his shoulders, Jesse lifted himself up. "Stay on the bed, but get on your knees." he ordered and you complied without a sound. You knew what was coming next, and you couldn't wait to feel him heavy against your tongue.

"Atta girl." Jesse slapped your cheek softly in praise. You watched silently, as he moved to unbuckle his belt, then quickly undo his jeans. They fell on the floor with a soft thump, along with his underwear.

You swore your mouth was watering at the sight of Jesse's cock, and even if it was concealed by the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs; it was obvious he was well endowed. Without waiting another command from him, you moved to remove his underwear, and all you could do was moan at the sight of his cock springing free. His tip swollen and pink.

"Fuck." you moaned and opened your mouth to take him in. His hand messily grabbed your hair into a ponytail, and guided your head on his cock. Jesse groaned you took the tip in, a string of curses following suit. You looked up at him, moving your head to take him further into your mouth, your tongue laid out flat on the underside of his dick.

Jesse threw his head back, your mouth was so soft at warm, he wanted to fill you up to the point you would be choking around his dick. And so he pushed your head further down, his cock twitching the moment you gagged softly around him. He kept pushing your head, until your nose bumped against his pelvic bone. With a pull on your ponytail, he pushed your head back and watched as you gasped for air.

He let you take in three deep breaths before he pushed your head on his cock again and began pushing him self down your throat. Tears began to brim around your eyes as you choked and struggled for breath around his length, and Jesse smiled when your gazes locked.

"Love it when you choke on it, like a dirty slut." he spat, before pushing halfway through to let you take another deep breath, before he started picking up his pace. The tip of his cock was hitting the back of your throat and you couldn't help but moan, sending vibrations around his dick. Jesse couldn't also help but groan at the sensation, if he continued fucking your mouth like this, he was gonna let it all down your throat.

And although as much as he loved your mouth right now, he really wanted to see how you felt around him. Grabbing you again by your hair, he pulled you of his cock and ordered for you to turn around, and scoot up on the bed. You felt the mattress dip when he climbed up behind you.

Jesse grabbed the base of his cock, moving it to drag along your folds, gathering up all of your slick and coating his dick with it. He kept teasing your entrance with his tip, and you whined softly beneath him. With a wiggle of your hips, you pushed back, feeling the tip slip in.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. So," Jesse scolded softly, "fucking," he groaned when he pushed the entirety of his length into your wetness. "impatient." he finished his sentence once he bottomed out inside of you. His balls grazed your clit lightly, you were arched so perfectly for him, he was hitting all the right spots.

He moved to position himself, lifting one knee up, for better leverage and grabbed a fistful of your hair once more. His fingers curled tightly around the roots, sending a sweet and pleasurable wave of pain to your core, one that had you moaning.

That's all Jesse needed to hear and he began to mercilessly pound his hips into you. He pulled your head back by your hair, and you screamed as he had his way with you.

"You're so big." you moaned and his grip on your hair tightened.

"You take me so well." Jesse praised and moved his head down, his lips on level with your ear. "Taking my cock like a little slut." And with that he roughly let go of your head and you fell face first into the mattress.

In this position, your arch deepened causing him to fuck deeper into you. You felt the weight of his hand pressing down on your head and you screamed into the mattress when his pace grew quicker and harder.

In that moment, you were so thankful your house was a bit secluded; you wouldn't want to worry any neighbors with the way Jesse had you screaming. You felt the bed groan and creak and you thought it was going to give out beneath you.

Jesse abruptly pulled out of you and you whined at the loss of his dick, you felt so incredibly empty without him. With one swift movement, he flipped you over onto your back, his hand moving around your throat, just beneath your jawline.

"I want to look at your face when you cum." he said and squeezed your throat. He moved to push your legs above his shoulders, fucking into you so deep, it had you seeing stars.

His skin slapped agains yours, your wet pussy making lewd sounds around his cock. Jesse's hand squeezed your neck, pushing all the air out from your throat. His hips never once faltered, his pace steady against yours.

"Just like that." he cooed, watching your eyes roll back into your head at the lack of air, and just when you began clenching around him, he released his grip.

"Fuck!" you screamed, your head digging back into the mattress. The tight cord in your core snapped, and it had you clenching and gushing all over him.

Jesse smiled down at you, proud at how hard he had just made you cum. He kept fucking into you, prolonging your orgasm as he chased his own. His balls tightened while they slapped against your swollen cunt - he was close. He quickly pulled out and with two pumps, he came all over your stomach with a long throaty moan, painting you with his cum.

You were both heaving, now laying next to each other, not saying a word. It was Jesse who broke the silence, he turned to look at you with a wolfish grin.

"Seems pretty sturdy to me."

[papersnakepress]

I had a message the other day asking (among other things) what kind of tools and equipment I use in making books, and as it's something I like to go into detail on, I realized I couldn't fit everything I had to say in a message so it's getting its own post. With photos!

Disclaimer that I'm not a professional bookbinder, I'm entirely self-taught and probably have habits and practices that would drive a pro nuts. I'm no authority, but these are the things that have worked for me, and maybe you can adapt them to work for you too.

This post will not cover: storage options, materials like board and glue, or equipment specific to one narrower aspect of the hobby like embossing or gilding. It is also not a tutorial on how to make a book, though I am covering things in more-or-less the order I use them in during the book-making process.

This post will cover: What I've found useful, what I've regretted buying, and some things you can co-opt from other, more common hobbies. A lot of it you may already have in your house. Some of it is for beginners, some is nicer equipment you might want as you get further into making books. They are not separated, it's just a list and some description.

Keep reading below the cut; this is gonna be a very long one and there are a lot of photos of everything.

If you want to make books you will need access to a printer. I'm not going to go into detail on this part and I didn't take a photo of my HP (not the best brand, but that's a long discussion in and of itself). Once you've got your pages printed and it's time to fold it into signatures, it helps to have a folding tool like these:

Folding tools can be anything as long as they're smooth and flat. The one on the left here is an actual bone folder from an art supply shop, but the center one is a plastic leatherworking tool that I got at Hobby Lobby, and the one on the right is an agate burnisher that I got from Amazon. None of these cost more than $10, and you can also use the edge of a pen (as long as it has no rubber grip or cap/clip) or the back of a spoon. Or your fingers, but the tools make it faster and the folds are more precise. I once worked a job where I had to fold maps, and all my coworkers were wondering how I did them so much faster and why mine were flatter than everyone else's, and it was because I'd grabbed a sharpie and started using the back end like a bone folder.

Once it's folded, you'll need to poke holes for sewing. I use one of these:

Left is, again, an actual bookbinding awl from an art supply store, while the center one is a paper quilling tool and the right one is a beadwork awl, both of which came from a big chain craft store. The bead one is my favorite; it's a good size and very stable. The quilling thing has too long and thin of a blade and it's wobbly, and I don't like the tapering on the bookbinding awl. It tends to make the holes in the middle page too big, and the outer ones too small. Again, these were cheap, about $10 each, but you can also use a sewing needle stuck in a cork, or a thumbtack or pushpin. If it's pointy and rigid, it'll work.

This isn't a requirement by any means, but I've found I like having a punching cradle for the hole-poking step. I got this 3d printed one from a fellow bookbinder, who was designing their own and made this one as a prototype. There are a lot of tutorials on how to make a punching cradle, or you can buy them online from several different vendors. They don's all look like this, and you can make them from wood or cardboard (though those don't usually have guide holes). If you're just starting out or this doesn't appeal, you can just use a paper template like the one on the far right. The cradle helps get the holes lined up and evenly spaced, and I've never liked this step so anything that makes it faster and less fussy is a win. If you use this kind, check that your hole-poking tool fits in the guide holes--the binding awl pictured above doesn't, but the other two do.

We've made holes, so let's stitch them up. These are just regular sewing needles and beeswax, to make your thread less prone to tangling. You can get both of them in any store that has a sewing department. There are dedicated bookbinding needles, like curved needles, and some binders like them, but I've never gotten the hang of the curved ones and they aren't necessary, especially when you're just starting out. If it fits through the holes you made, it will work.

Once it's sewn, you probably want to squish your new text block so it's flat. I've got a laying press that I bought a couple of years ago when I was first getting started. It was marketed as a book and flower press, and it's honestly not the best. I would probably not have bought it if I had known that it wasn't essential to the process, and I mainly use it now when I'm squishing a text block and still want to use my work space, because once it's tight I can move it somewhere else. You can really use almost anything for squishing as long as it's heavy and flat and rigid on one side, like the stack of books in the right-hand photo. Textbooks, encyclopedias, art and photo books, and comic book omnibuses are all great. I've seen people use all kinds of things, like paper-wrapped bricks and doorstops, and there are tutorials out there to make your own press out of cutting boards if you do want one.

If you like your books to have smooth, flat page edges you're going to have to trim them. This is a book plow from Affordable Binding Equipment, and it was the first piece of actual expensive equipment that I bought. Not all plows look like this; I think the design is unique to ABE, but I've never used the traditional kind. In the interest of full disclosure, you can also trim edges with a sharpened chisel, which is much cheaper and can be bought at any hardware store, and some binders love this method. I do not love this method and have had zero regrets about caving and getting the plow. Very easy to use but does require some grip strength. Not pictured: the setup for sharpening the blade, which isn't hard but requires a bit of space and a small sheet of plate glass that you have to source yourself. Even with that, I still prefer it to the chisel. That said, this is not an essential step and you can leave your books with a "sawtooth" or deckled edge. Most of my early books have them, and some people just like them better than the flat ones and never learn to trim them. As another side note, some tutorials will say that you can trim your edges flat with a knife. You can't. Maybe on a pamphlet you can, but if it's more than 10 or 20 pages you just can't. It will look terrible.

If you're going to use a plow, you've got to have the right kind of press. The one I talked about further up the thread is the wrong kind (full disclosure: I did use it with that press turned on its side, before I bought this one. But it's harder, more time-consuming, less comfortable, and less safe. Don't be like me). So here's a photo of my finishing press (also from Affordable Binding Equipment). I bought it so I could make backed books, but I use it for trimming too. The top part here has a narrow tapered section for backing, but if you flip it over it's totally flat, which is what you need for trimming. Not pictured: the stand that it came with for backing, or the c-clamps that I use to attach it to the desk for trimming. Again, though--this isn't a requirement for bookbinding. This is a later stage that's entirely optional. On the subject of backing, though:

You don't need special equipment to round the spines of your books, but you do for backing. Left image is the set of backing boards I got from, once again, Affordable Binding Equipment, and on the right is a backing hammer from Hollander's. Neither of these are essential. Even if you get the boards (which have to be used in a press with a tapered edge, like the one directly above) you can actually use a regular hammer as long as the front part has no scratches or gouges. This one is a backing hammer, the primary difference being that it has a wider, convex head than a regular household hammer, to make the kind of glancing blows needed for backing a little easier. Honestly, I'm still learning how to use these and I'm not very good with them yet. Comes of being self-taught, probably. I don't think youtube is the best vehicle for learning this part, but it's what I have and I'm making do. Not every book is going to benefit from backing, either; it's primarily for helping mitigate spine swell.

Okay, time for my favorite repurposed equipment hack.

It's bookends. Regular bookends that I've had for ages and that probably came from Ross or some other place that doesn't even sell craft supplies.

Want to keep the text block upright while you glue it? Bookends. Want to sew some custom end bands but your text block keeps falling over? Bookends. They won't provide pressure for squishing, but if you just need to hold something upright while you work on it, bookends are the answer. They hold up books, it's right there in the name. Having said that, you want some with a little weight to them, like these agate slices, so they won't slide around. And you want something with a smooth finished edge like these, so they won't scratch up your text block or leave dents. I have other sets but these are the only ones I use for this purpose, and they're better for it than anything else I've got.

Moving on from making the text block, let's look at what I use to make covers.

It's appeared in the background of most of the other photos, but here's a photo of just the desk surface covered in cutting mats. I really recommend a mat to protect the surface of your furniture and keep your knives from going immediately dull. I've got a big one that covers almost the full surface, and a small one for when I want to be more mobile. I started with just the small one and it was good until I started working with larger sheets of paper. The big one was bought largely for convenience but I have no regrets about it. They're self-healing, non-slip, and you can get them in the sewing section of any big craft store.

I'll be honest, I am not big on knives. I've got a regular box cutter for trimming board, and a razor knife for paper and cloth, and that's it. There are a lot of kinds and really all you need is one sharp blade for board. Paper and cloth can be cut with scissors if you want, though I find I get more consistently straight lines with the knives. Also pictured: Metal rulers and a T-square. You want a metal ruler for this. Plastic will flex and wood won't lay flat. Ideally you want one without a cork backing (my 18" one has this problem) and with the tick marks etched in rather than printed (my 12" one has this problem). For larger sheets of paper and cloth, the 18" one is great, but you can get by with the smaller one. The T-square is for making right angles; mine is plastic and only 12", and I really wish I had a longer one that was metal. These are drafting tools and you'll find them in the section of the craft store that has easels and sketch pads and they're usually pretty cheap.

This is an adjustable compass. You can probably get these at craft stores but I got mine on Amazon. It's for measuring hinge gaps and the width of spines, both essential for making sure your cover fits your text block and your hinges open the way they should. Both of those are incredibly frustrating situations, and this thing makes it so much easier to avoid them.

Things to spread glue with! Any old paintbrush will do, though I like to have a few different sizes and textures on hand to choose from. I like the big one for cover boards and casing in, the mid-size ones for doing turn-ins, and the little fellow for details and touch-ups. I don't care for foam brushes because I find them hard to clean when glue is involved, but if you like you can use those. The metal thing on the left is a micro-spatula, and I did have to special order it from an art supply place but it was cheap and it's very helpful to have on hand for when the brushes are too thick, for doing turn-ins on rounded spines, and for separating pages if you decide to learn edge foiling. Not essential, but recommended.

One thing I neglected to take a photo of is my crepe eraser. Despite the best intentions, no matter how careful you are, you will at some point get glue where you don't want it, where it will be visible on the finished book. This is where the crepe eraser comes in; you can use it to remove dried glue from cloth or (to a lesser extent) paper. Very annoyingly, none of the craft or art supply places I went to had even heard of these and I had to get mine from Amazon. It was cheap (under $10) and I strongly recommend getting one.

Once your cover is made, you have some options. You can leave it blank, hand-letter or draw an image, stamp it with ink or embossing powder, use a stencil, or do what I usually do these days and make a cover graphic from HTV. I've got a cricut for this (though they're not the only kind of cutting machine; it pays to research other brands) and a mini heat press (I want a bigger one, but I got this one cheap because the box is messed up). A lot of libraries have cricuts you can use, and you can use a regular iron to apply the HTV. Getting it to stick is a bit tricky, but that's true no matter which tools you use. Not pictured: a cutting mat, different than the kind shown above, necessary with most materials you can cut (mine came with one, they're about $20 at most craft stores, and they're lightly sticky to keep your materials in place while it's being cut). I don't know if other brands require them, but cricut does unless you're using their Smart Materials (I have never used these). If your library has a cutting machine, they will also have the appropriate cutting mats. Also not pictured: weeding tools. Weeding is when you remove the bits of HTV that you don't want in the final image, usually the spaces between letters and such. The negative space, if you want to get artsy. The special tools cricut sells aren't necessary, you can use an awl or needle and the dull edge of your knife blade, but I have a set of theirs and I like mine.

I didn't take a photo of it, but sometimes I use embossing inks and powder to make cover designs and text. You only need a heat gun for embossing powder, it takes up way less space than the cricut does, and it's cheaper. I got mine free from a family member so I don't know what it cost initially, but cutting machines are a really big expense; the cricut is my third most expensive piece of equipment, after the finishing press and the plow.

Good god I think that's everything. It sounds intimidating, I know. And it sounds like it takes up tons of space in your home, and to be honest it can, but it doesn't have to. The first dozen or so books I made, I made completely to my satisfaction with tools and materials that fit in one 12x16" moving box. If you love the hobby and can make the space, the bulkier items might be worth it down the line, but especially when you're first getting started it's smart to keep things low-cost and compact. Most of the basics are simple and your fellow bookbinders are delighted to share their shortcuts and substitutions if you ask.

The end! I hope it was helpful, @cardassianexpats! I did warn you it would be wordy, lol.

[sugarakis-p2]

Date with a devil

You finally give the man-child from your online game streaming team a chance to buy you a drink. Just when the date from hell is going well, he kidnaps you and uses your body mercilessly. Leaving your head spinning, your heart and nether aching for more.

Warning: Non-Con, Shigaraki Tomura x plus size Reader, Bondage and Discipline, Rope Bondage, Non-Consensual Bondage, Kidnapping, Rough Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Vag Fingering, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Size Kink, Large Cock, Large Breasts, Drinking, Cussing, Light BDSM

You nervously fidget as you wait for your date to arrive.

You sigh, grab your purse, getting up to leave for the sixth time that night. You were already feeling iffy about this date, to begin with. You met him on a game chat. He was polite at first. Overly polite and well-spoken. You thought he might be a dad in his forties. Then later, he started with the serious game lingo. Soon he was a regular on your channel, finding the best gear and creating some of your most popular content when he threw his ominous tantrums. Sometimes they are aimed at you when he wants to be the lead on missions, and you make the call to have some of the other content creators get footage.

A year of flirting later, he had finally asked you out for a drink. But this was Tenfingerdeathpunch. He wasn't smooth, and he definitely wasn't pleasant. It had been a while since you went on a date. You gained weight as you got older and are an American. Men weren't beating down your door, and he was a lot more brazen when you two were alone. Flirting so hard the thought of it makes you blush. He sends you pictures of his torso. Each one has been steadily creeping lower and lower. You both always wore masks when it was video feed. Only he also distorted his voice and created a fake background. You chuckle to yourself when you remember the time a meme was made from one of his tantrums using an old cartoon character called Skeletor. We wore that mask quite often. Honestly, it has paid the bills more than once. It also showed he had a sense of humor.

Ten was also creepy, threatening, and sounded like a little incel man baby. You didn't ask for those pics. He sent them to you because you lost your cool and started insulting his appearance and anything else you could think of that would hurt. You were not expecting a pic of his pretty abdomen, and the tip of the outline of what you have to assume is a monster cock. Ten, who could not read a room, immediately caught onto your eep.

"Oh, you like it?" You could hear his smirk.

"No, I don't. Shut up. I'm going to have to cut all this footage. Neither of us looks good," you sneered.

"That's not true. You think I look good," Ten mocked. You hung up on him. Since then, he has been hinting at things but asked genuinely a few days ago. You look in the mirror at the back of the bar and knaw at your lips in worry. Make that you gained a lot of weight. Your chest is so big you have only seen the tops your toes for years now, and they are brushing the tabletop. This little round booth is not doing you any favors, you take up most of the space, and it will be too intimate. You both have yet to see each other. You can still make a getaway.

"Toughgirlsheart?" A voice rasped. You look up to see a slender young man with light blue hair shadowing his bright red smoldering eyes, surrounded by scars and scratch marks. Same with his neck, his lips dry and cracked. His clothes are clean but a bit ill-fitting and ragged at the edges. You instantly know why he only sent you a pic of his shirtless torso. You're not going to lie. The scars are jarring when you first see them. But he has a nice body. Your cheeks heat when you combine that mental picture of his abs with his handsome face hidden under the scars.

"Y-yeah. Ten?" You answer. A grin tugs at the corner of his lips.

"You are even prettier than I imagined. Let me buy you a drink," Ten said sweetly, raising his hand to call the bartender over, while staring intensely at your chest and lips. You narrow your eyes.

"Brazen as ever, Ten," You say, rolling your eyes.

"Two six fingers of Pappy's on the rocks," he ordered. The bartender paled, taking in Ten's appearance and his ragged clothing.

"Sir, that is rather exspen-," The bartender said when Ten sighed and pulled out a platinum diamond card. Oh my god, he was loaded. No wonder he was such a brat. The bartender goes to get your order while you snap your mouth shut.

"I get less picky the more I drink, but I'm not going to let our first date start with cheap trash," Ten said. Spoken like a true alcoholic. When your order came, There was no doubt in your mind. You both liked to drink, at least, his eyes never moving from your chest. 

"My face is up here" You hiss. His crimson eyes dart up and he smirks.

"I didn't think I had to play meek with you. Aren't you American? Aren't you made of tougher stuff? I was hoping you could handle me. Especially now that I can see how damn hot you are."  

He's so smug and sounded annoyed having to tell you how hot you are. You don't know if he's being sincere or sarcastic. You take a sip of your drink and decide to stay for the drink, at least.

"Oh, my god. This tastes like worship," you gasp in delight.

"Dark smooth smokey tones. The best part is it's 92 proof," Ten grinned. You start talking about drinks. He was charming. Talking about gaming for hours. Drinking the entire time. You deeply regretted sticking around later when you both started getting tipsy. But grateful you stuck to your gamer names. You don't want this brat doxxing you if he decides to throw a trantrum.

"Why did you put in Dreamcaster1995? He's weak when it comes to dungeons. He is much better with pvp. He's a pussy, and everything about him sucks," Ten snarled, scratching his neck. You rolled your head back in exasperated drunk melodramatics.

"This fucking guy," you slurred before pointing your finger at him. You really want to jab his demon eye out at this moment, so this will have to do, "Look. Of course, you would have been better."

"If you knew that, then why him?"

"Part of being a good leader is trusting your team and helping them too. It can't all be about you. Of course, you would have been better, but he has a channel and has helped me in the past. Plus, there is no doubt he would succeed, and watching people struggle a little makes for interesting content too. As a team member you have to help people achieve there goals. Seriously, did you invite me out to harp on this some more?" You lectured.

You are about to get up and leave when his hand shoots out, wrapping four fingers around your wrist. You want to slap him, stopping when you notice he is listening. You could see the gears locking into place as he came to an epiphany. A strange horrid grin splits his expression.

"You're right. You're so right. Please, don't go. Let me buy you another drink. I like talking to you. This is nice," Ten said, vulnerable. A single finger scratched at his neck. His eyes hooded with sincere gratitude. He looked beautiful. You let him pull you close. The side of your breasts presses against his hard chest as he whispers in your ear. Divulging a little secret to keep you there.

"I asked you out because no one else kept me on their team. You are always so patient and buttery sweet with a sharp tongue. A perfect balance of a leader and I admire that. I wanted to learn from you. That's the original reason. But now I really want to bury myself in you. I meant it all the way. I was hoping you could handle me," He rasped, licking your ear and pulling your hand to touch the monster bulge pressing against your thick thigh.

He was not being sarcastic earlier. If that cock was an indicator, he was definitely attracted to you. That thing was much bigger than you thought, and heat prickled over your skin as you lightly squeezed to be sure it was not his leg. How does he have enough blood for that thing? You wondered. A needy, sad part of you really wanted to feel him inside you. Your quirk made you crave, mostly alcohol but there's other ways to get drunk.

"You're disgusting," you breathe back. No real bite to your words, and he grinned.

"Yeah. But not to you. Your skin is hot and flushed with the liquor. That blush over your tits is driving me wild," Ten growled. Pinching on your nipple, pressing a sloppy kiss against your lips. You don't know what it was, but you do not pull away. You let him grope and kiss until you notice people are watching and feel shy.

"Ten, this is embarrassing. People are staring," you mumble against his mouth. He pulled away abruptly.

" IS it that embarrassing to be seen with me?" He seethed.

"What? No. I just don't want strangers staring at me like I'm a fat slut," you snapped back. He really knew how to get under your skin.

"A. Fat. Slut," he repeated slowly and smiled, "You're so fucking cute. You are tempting me to do terrible things. I heard that the bigger the girl tighter the cunt. I don't have to be gentle with you, do I, tough girl?"

He pounced on you and left you breathless before you could answer his disgusting question. He is much quicker than you expected. His kisses quickly adapted to get better and more passionate. His tongue entwining and playing with yours like a controller. They are still wet but not drowning. You are about ready to take this back to your place. When some pro hero sidekicks walk in to relax after work. Ten pulls his hood up and leans in.

"So. How many do you think you can take?" He asks quietly. You laugh and then stop because he is not joking. Alright. At a certain point, it doesn't matter how big your cock is. Crazy murder talk should be a line. You are about to tell him it's getting late when his face hardens as he spots someone in the mirror, "I'm going to pay the bill. Stay here."

He darted away before you could even answer. Leaving you panting and fanning yourself. He's as aggressive as you thought he would be and you did not mind that part at all. Sometimes you wonder if your quirk makes you thirsty for more than liquor. You see, Ten is talking to some girl. A perky little blonde who looked like she was gushing at him. He said something to her and followed her outside. Your heart plummeted into your gut. Of course, he would run off with a young tiny thing. You finish your drink when he pops up in front of you. Startling you, damn he's fast you think.

"We're going now," he snapped.

"Yes, I am," you tell him, obviously irked, when he flashes you your car keys. The stern look in his eyes is all the warning you need. You follow him to your SUV. Heart racing that he stole your keys and knows which car is yours. A big red flag in your book. The thing had a giant sponsor sticker on the side. Ten would defiantly recognize it, but this was too much. You are making excuses for his bad behavior like this was normal. Your instincts told you that you did not want to get into a confined space with him.

"I can't drive. I'm too drunk," You say quickly as Ten opens your door.

"Tsk. We both know your quirk works best when you're drunk," he growls, tossing your keys at you. You catch them quickly. He knows your reflexes are inhumanly sharp the more you drink. It gives you the edge when gaming, "At least your body is honest. I would not ask for a ride. But an acquaintance is in trouble, and the person who dropped me off is not picking up his cell."

You must have lost your mind. You're really getting in the car with him. But it really sounded like his friend was in trouble. The kind that if you call the cops, they will only make it worse. He looked so sincere too. He's a spoiled rich boy who doesn't understand how many social rules he breaks or more likely doesn't care. You mentally write it off as another thing not to like about Ten. That doesn't mean you can't help or be better.

"You owe me," you huffed. You hop into the driver's seat. Ten already programmed an address into the gps. It's another private bar you never heard of. It looked very exclusive. You become embarrassed. You assumed he was running off with that girl or trying to get you help chase her. She must have come and told him about his sponsee, she looked way to young to drink. It's not unusual for heavy drinkers to be sponsors and sponsee's for alcoholics anonymous. There was a long awkward silence as you drove.

"So, you're stalking me?" you asked. Not fully sincere. Ten took it seriously and snorted.

"That's rich. You post everything on social media. Is it really stalking if you admire someone and they invite you? Besides, what if you were a serial killer? I have met plenty of crazy women," He rasped. You thought you heard a thud from the trunk. It was probably energy drinks tipping over, you think and forget about it. You want to forget about this whole date and ignored his snide comment.

"I watched you win the 55-boss tournament wasted. I noticed you never live stream, and you slurred in chat more than once. I also noticed your baggy hoodies stretched out in the chest, and you played better drunk. I had my suspicions about you. It's part of the reason why my acquaintances are in trouble. Do me a favor and wait for me. I need to grab someone from inside," he says cryptically. As you park with a sigh. This guy can send you on a roller coaster of hate and lust. It was getting exhausting. 

"Why did you throw my tits in the mix? Nevermind, that's just a Ten thing. You know you don't come off as the cuddliest. You're downright prickly. But you are also surprisingly caring, so I will wait," you say honestly. Ten is on you again, your reflexes are more than fast enough to block him, but your arms are weak, and you don't mind he is leaving you breathless. This was the best yet. You shuddered, and your toes curled.   

"I am glad you are being candid. I prefer the authentic you. You're fast but not strong. I like that. Don't look in the trunk," Ten purrs.

"What?" You asked his retreating figure as he went into the building. You suddenly had a creeping suspicion about the thud you heard earlier as more time passed. You check to see if there is anyone else around. Your heart is pounding as you step out and walk to the back suv. Ten had to be just messing with you. He wouldn't be crazy enough to put something in your trunk, would he? You pop the trunk to have a blonde, bubbly girl launch herself at you with a knife. She would have plunged that thing right into your eye if you hadn't dodged. It was damn close when she fell on you.

"You are so cute. I couldn't help myself. It's Tomura-kun's fault. He had to be so mysterious about his type. I see he likes them thick and busty, or he could have been boring and meant your personality. You really gave him a taste for fame. All he ever talks about is his headlines, meme's made from him, and this date he's going on with this adorable gamer girl," The blonde psycho giggles.

"Get off me!" You scream.

"Toga! Get off her. Kurogiri quickly. Charge your damn phone next time," Ten hissed.

"I was just keeping her from escaping," Toga whined.

You woke up in some strange room tied to a bed. Spread eagle. Some horrible man with half his face that looks like a scab is fondling your breast. You screamed, and he smiled. It sent a violent chill down your spine that you choked on your screams.

"Master. This is just rude. I know I asked to borrow your power. I'm grateful, but she is mine," Ten rasped.

"I wanted a little fun. It's so rare when I meet new people. I like buxom sweet girls." He grins to Ten and leans in to talk to you, "It is a very straightforward quirk. Betray me or any member of the League of Villains, and you will go boom." The scab said, showing you a video of that exact thing happening to people. You believe him. You believe him so much you burst into body-racking sobs.

"You can let the girl go to her new home. She won't be talking," All for one said, leaving with his travel life support. Ten waited and then shooed away the shady guy in the room. The man looked like he was made of clouds when he wisped away, leaving you with Ten. He cleaned your face and waited for you to stop crying.

"Breathe, baby. You're a tough girl, remember. I really was trying to help you. I didn't want you to meet Toga. She can be a bit obsessive and stabby. You inspired me, so I was trying to protect you. I was hoping I could trust you. You just had to go and be a bad girl, though. Right after we were having fun," He rasped with a glare. Reaching out his hand to untie you, his glare burned into you with an intensity that was more infuriating than anything he had done up until that point.

"You repulsive ghoul! Your sinister smile makes me sick. I know for certain that nobody enjoys being around a creep like you - least of all me," you sneered at him. He paused, pulled his hand back, and scratched at his neck.

"No. No. No. That was all you. You wanted me. You felt something for me. I know it. Quit denying it, or I'll make your body tell the truth once more. Your body was truthful. It's screaming out for me even now," he growled. He kissed you deep and roughly. Becoming frustrated when he didn't get a response. His nails tearing into his delicate pale flesh, "This worked before. I know it did."

"Not every lady gets a slobbering pussy from a little nipple play and a make-out session. The whole world isn't a hentai or eroge, creep," you scoffed. You wish you could kick him.

"Oh. If that's true, I can take it to the next level, right? After all, you were dishonest and disobeyed. All of this is really your fault. I was happy with some kissing. I was going to let you go if you had just followed a simple rule of trust. I would have taken my time with you and let things build slowly. A few more dates, more pvp. Allow you to get used to what I'm about to do to you. But you made this personal." His fingers playing with your panty line under your skirt. Your body betrays you with a pathetic squeal and jerks towards his fingers when he brushes your clit over your panties. You wished the world would open and swallow you as he grinned triumphantly.

"Your panties are soaked. Although it's grown cold. Let's see if I can get that slobbering pussy you mentioned," Ten chuckled. You shake your head violently back and forth. This was torturously good, and you didn't want to give Ten any more satisfaction.

"I'm sorry, Ten. You're right. I was being dishonest. Let's stop. You win," you moan. Struggling against your restraints.

"But your pussy wants my attention," Ten purrs, licking two of his fingers, pulling your panties aside, and shoving them knuckle deep. You groaned and bucked against him. Oh god, you are so embarrassed and humiliated by yourself.

"No. You are the worst!" You wail.

"Careful. All five fingers will turn you to dust. Mmm. So wet and warm." He rubs and twists his fingers inside your body, working them in and out, trying to unlock your secrets. Parting your lips to stare at all of you. You squeal and try to close your legs to him.

"No more. I came already! You win. Game over," you pant and plea. He pulled his eyes away from the slick fold to narrow his eyes.

"You really know how to piss me off. Everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie. You are driving me insane. This pretty puss is blushing. This little bud it is hard and ripe for me to bite on. Your walls are gripping my fingers. Sucking me in like the greedy little slut you are for me. Oh, right, there is the spot. You got tighter and wetter. Right. Here," He smirked.

His fingers work harder on your sweet spot, making your back arch. Ten looks down at you with hunger in his eyes. His tongue traces a slow, sensual path up your inner thigh. He lightly parts your outer lips again, two fingers lightly pinching your clit and spreading again, making you shiver with anticipation. He buries his face between your legs, and his fingers slowly plunge into your body, heating your core as his tongue lathes over your clit.

"Fuck. I thought you might be tangy, but you smell like soap and taste like nothing. Did you prepare yourself for me before the date even started?" He chuckled.

"You gross me out," you gasp.

Ten fiercely nipped your clit for that, sending a spark of pleasure through your body. Your hips involuntarily buck against his face as Ten lightly sucks and kisses your clit, intensifying the pleasure coursing through you. Your breath quickens as the intensity of the sensations overwhelms you. He can feel your arousal intensifying with each passing second, and he moves his tongue in circles around your clit. His tongue flicks faster and faster, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy when he abruptly pulls away. Leaving you with no stimulation and feeling hollow inside. You whimper at the loss of his digits. Ten looms over you, his face glistening with your juices as he grins down, inches from your lips. You can hear his pants unzip. He wipes his face, his tongue slurping his fingers before it reaches between your legs. Tearing your panties away with one harsh jerk. You can feel him jerking his length over your throbbing crotch.  

"Now that is a slobbering pussy. You even managed to moisten my lips. But I gross you out. Maybe I should just stop here. What's with the sad look, tough girl? I thought I grossed you out. But it really looks like you want more. Isn't this like in those boy-love mangas that you read? Being tied up and giving control to a man that makes you feel good? If you are honest with me, I will give you this," he says, smacking the head of his cock against your clit. You jerk and whimper, a wet swack with each swat of that hot thick thing.

"You were stalking me. No one knows what I have hidden under my bed," you pout. His crimson eyes bore into you so intensely with an expression you could not read. It sent a shiver of fear down your spine.

"I had Toga gather information. She is very skilled at it. I didn't know the closer she got to you, the more she would want to kill you. I couldn't have that. We have been having some team bonding issues, and I didn't know that part about her quirk until later. You inspired me tonight, though. I invited you for a drink because I guessed right about your quirk. I originally tried to get you here, but you were not having that. See where being stubborn and defiant got you? If you had just given in and had been honest, none of this would have happened. Imagine my surprise when I saw you all dolled up, with a clean, freshly shaven pussy ready for me, considering how disgusting I am," he mocked.

"You really like hearing your own voice. Please, finish and let me go," This is the closest to begging you will do. None of this would have happened to your ass. Ten has always been the kind of guy that will do something fucked up and blame it on the victim. He saw a flicker of emotion cross your face, one that displeased him. His features hardened, and his gaze narrowed menacingly, causing you to stay silent and avert your eyes.

"Your right. I much rather hear your voice," He grinned wickedly. He shoves his face between your legs, pressing his lips to your swollen, shaved lips, exploring your most intimate places with an eagerness that speaks of a deep craving. Ten's tongue dances and swirls, savoring the sweet nectar of your pleasure like a connoisseur of the finest delicacies. His hands move up and down, caressing you with a passion that is both tender and intense. As his mouth devours your essence, his hunger for you intensifies, and you can feel the intensity of his pleasure in every fiber of your being.

Your body trembles as your orgasm builds and finally devastates you. Quivers run through your body as the crescendo of pleasure crests and crashes, leaving her breathless. Ecstasy shivers through your veins, and you can't help but scream out in joy. His tongue continues to tease you until your crying and horse from the intense bliss it's painful. He's completely sated, then he pulls away, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. He looks down at you with a satisfied smirk and contentment. You cry out in painful bliss, and surprise, he uses his thumbs to spread you open. His cock slipped from your tight wet hole. Hitting your clit, continues to rub himself over your hard nub, wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, driving you mad.

"Look at that little flower blossoming for me. I parted those petals nice and wide for me. I should have used three fingers; I'm almost four fingers wide. This might hurt you. My rosy little pussy is tight. You can handle it, though. Am I right, tough girl? Be honest," he hissed. Losing patience, he grasps your waist with one hand, gripping the head of his cock and pressing it harshly at your entrance, pushing his manhood firmly against your core. You gasp with pleasure as he presses in, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

"No. I can't. I can't handle it," you say truthfully and desperately. With one powerful thrust, you felt his searing heat fill you. You felt yourself being pushed to the brink of your limits, and the sensation was excruciatingly intense.

Ten groaned, folding over you as the pressure from your cunt caressed him. His lips crushed against yours, his grip on your waist tightening as his other hand gripped the back of your neck. He took your moans, each one boosting his ego more as pride swelled his chest. Being inside his tough girl was agonizing bliss for him too. You tried to raise herself, but the restraints kept you in place, and he kept thrusting, trying to bury himself deeper. His desire grew increasingly intense, and he growled in frustration as he pulled out. His eyes burned passionately, and he wanted nothing more than to stay inside and keep you close.

"Not yet," he said, his voice laced with desire. "Let's savor the moment. I really want to make you scream." He paused, then ran his tongue along his lower lip before giving her a knowing look. "Not me," he said, leaning in, taking your lower lip between his teeth in a gentle nibble.

"Please," you whimpered, desperately trying to move your hips, but his iron grip refused to let you go. You weren't sure if you were begging for more pain or pleasure, but you knew you had to try something. The thin straps of your dress snapped, and your bare breasts spilled free. His mouth immediately found your taunt nipple, his arousal-slicked hand reaching for his jacket pocket. You watched in horror as he pulled out your vibrator, the one you kept at home. What was he planning to do with it? He ruthlessly thrust the toy inside you, his mouth releasing your nipple with a wet pop. Your lips locked as teeth and tongues clashed against each other. You tried to turn your head from his kiss. Then you felt the sharp slap of his hand against the tender flesh of your cunt. Leaving a trail of burning pain to cool in the cold air. A warning growl in his throat, and you knew it was a warning not to push his buttons.

"I'm sorry…" You whispered against his lips, tracing his bottom lip with your tongue, "I just need you so badly. This is torture."

"Come on, tough girl; hold out for another twenty minutes. I need to stretch you out a little more," Ten growled, his voice low and tantalizing in your ear. His hands roamed your sides, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. He settled between your legs, the heat radiating off him. Throwing his head back, Your muscles clenched over his hot length, the warmth of you pulling him into the deepest depths, drawing him in inch by inch.

"Fuck, you're still so tight," he groaned, his breath hot against your neck. "Good girl. Take my cock. Not so tough now." He chuckled, pushing further until you felt like you'd be split in two.

"I wasn't tied up or had your cock inside me when I was being tough. Tough guy," you spat back. He responded with a sharp pinch to your nipple, causing you to yelp in pain. He did not like you talking back. His fingers trailed down your body, gripping and ripping your dress in two. The sound of fabric tearing was lost among the moans of pleasure that escaped your lips as he buried himself deep, to the hilt. His tongue pressed against your parted lips, and his hands roamed your body, making you squirm in fear. He moved his hips in a relentless rhythm, pushing you further and further until you were screaming in pleasure and stretched pain. He grips your thighs and drags his hands all over your body, making you squirm in fear from those hands. The dress was now nothing more than dust. You are left trembling with pleasure beneath him. It is confirmed he is op, and his quirk is deadly.  

"Did you ever touch yourself?" He whispered, his breath hot on your skin as wet kisses pressed over your collarbone. "Toga says you saved those pictures of this, he mocked, pulling his shirt off. A gasp escaped you as you were left speechless. His teeth teased the sensitive skin of your nipples before twining his action on the other. His gaze locked with yours, his eyes smoldering with an unspoken question. "Did you ever touch yourself?" He asked again, his voice husky.

"You know I did..." your moans intensified as he increased his pace. His hands traveled up and down your body, exploring each of your curves. His thrusts became harder and faster as you felt your body trembling with pleasure. You through your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull, as you felt the waves of pleasure wash over you.

He let out a deep groan, his grip on you tightening as he moved faster and faster. His thrusts sent shock waves of pleasure through you, and you could feel the pressure building up inside you. You screamed his name, and he growled, "Good girl. Finally, honest."

He released the restraints with a single touch, pulling you up to him and wrapping his arms around your body. You gasped as he ran his hands up your sides, your skin tingling with anticipation.

"Can we keep my hands tied?" you asked, a hint of embarrassment in your voice.

He chuckled and nodded, a devious glint in his eyes. Taking the restraints, he tied your hands behind your back and pulled you close.

"You are mine," he growled, his breath hot on your skin. "Fuck me. Ride me hard, or I will be harsh with a new punishment."

He held you at the waist and the back of your neck, helping you to move faster and faster as you rode him. The sensation was intense, a pleasure that threatened to consume you entirely. You moaned and gasped as he drove you higher and higher, the tightness of the restraints intensifying the pleasure. Your pleasure was so intense that you couldn't help but cry out in ecstasy as he leaned back and drove up into you.

The showers of slippery suds, hands covering your breasts with a teasing peak of skin underneath. The dirty phone calls leaving little to the imagination, the small sounds of Ten believing he's on mute all led up to this moment. You came so hard on him he stopped and gritted his teeth in pain. You felt your body quiver and tremble as he pounded you, and you felt a wave of pleasure so intense it almost knocked you out.

He forced you back onto the bed, a menacing look in his eyes. He flipped you over. His hand pressing down at the back of your head, he drove himself into you, his other hand gripping your tied wrists. You felt the force of each thrust as he pounded you from behind. You screamed out his name as you felt yourself come undone, and he looked down at you with a satisfied grin. His soft hair clung to his sweating flesh, chest heaving as warmth spread deep inside you. He slowly moved in and out of you, drawing out his own pleasure, and you could feel the intensity of the desire slowly slipping away.

Exhausted and trembling, you collapsed onto the bed, and he kissed you softly on the forehead. He unties you gently, his touch surprisingly tender. He draws you into an embrace and holds you close, his body warm against yours. You never expected such tenderness from him after the sex, but you can't help but feel a sense of comfort and safety in his arms. He kisses your forehead and whispers sweet nothings in your ear, and you can't help but feel a rush of emotion. He may not seem like the type of guy to show such affection, but here he is, loving and caring, holding you close. Pulling out his phone to take pictures of you covered in  his  sweat and cum. Posing with you like a creep. You would call him that, but he fucked you stupid, and you need a break.

The smoky guy you assume is Kurogiri comes in with two glasses and a craft of juice. You squeal and try to cover your cum dripping pussy. Ten, however, didn't bother to cover up at all.

"Um, thank you," You squeaked to Kurogiri.

“Get out,” Ten snarled at Kurogiri.

Kurogiri bowed and quickly left the room, leaving behind a stack of warm, moist towels and two fluffy robes. You quickly grabbed one of the robes and covered yourself, blushing furiously.

"Um, thank you," You said, embarrassed.

Ten simply nodded in response, and you both began to dry off. He grabs a towel and yanks the robe away from you. He starts to clean your body. You squeak in fear and shrink from his touch. He stepped closer, his eyes blazing with intensity.

"You don't have to fear me," he snarled. "I know you won't turn on us. Not a word of this will ever cross your lips. You're going to be an invaluable asset. A real prime piece. I was always going to take you and use you. But you were such a brat I had to break you for your own good."

"Really?" You ask. Not daring to disobey as he pulls you in to continue to clean you up.

He stared at you with a crazed gleam in his eye, his voice a low growl. "Yeah. I admired your skills," he said, his lips curling into a sinister smirk. "You had a large following and helped gain me some anonymous notoriety." His eyes glinted with a maniacal intensity. "I was going to kidnap you and have you spread my message." He paused, a twisted grin spreading across his face. You cock your head at him.

"What you are saying is that you will give a place with free rent, electricity, wi-fi, and garbage removal to make some propaganda?" you asked.

"That was the idea. But now I might just keep screwing you. I will destroy the hero society one way or another," He chuckled. Laying back to play with your hair.

"No," you say firmly. "Sign me up for kidnapping. I'm dead serious. The world out there is harsh. Our government makes us feel like failures for being unable to afford their outrageous housing costs. I used to be able to play games for fun, but the day I started making it a job, it stopped being enjoyable. I spend so many hours editing and creating content just to pay the rent. My quirk will kill me if I keep having to use it to entertain others. So, if all I have to do is upload a 5-minute propaganda video each day in exchange for a roof over my head, then use me as much as you need. Ten, this is the only warning I'm going to give you. When you cross that line, it will become a job; destruction might lose its fun. When that happens, I wouldn't mind maybe dating. Doing it slowly, like you said."

He gazed intently at you, his eyes sparkling with emotion. His lips curled into a tender smile. His gaze was so intense it was almost tangible. You felt a rush of heat to your cheeks, and his words rang in your ears, "I can feel my heart already falling for you. By the way, call me Tomura."

You  are standing in the bedroom, waiting for him, heart racing as you hear his footsteps coming closer. He stopped behind you, and I felt his strong hands gripping my hips tightly. His breath was hot on my neck as he leaned in and whispered, "You ready for this?"

You could only nod, unable to find the words to express your anticipation.

He started to move, pushing you down onto the bed. Letting out a gasp as he pressed his body against yours, his hardness pressing into you. He started to thrust, his movements becoming more and more forceful. You could feel your legs shake and tremble beneath him as he pushed harder and harder.

Your breathing becomes ragged and erratic as he continues, and you feel your body going limp. Lightheaded and drooling, your senses spun as he continued to fuck you roughly. Feeling your orgasm building, and just as it was about to crest, your whole body rocking in ecstasy, laying there, panting and trembling, trying to catch your breath. I had never felt so alive and so satisfied before. Tomura stopped and rolled off of you.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" You screamed as men burst in and snatched you from your comfy bed. Your heart raced in fear as you realized this wasn't the hero. It had to be the cops. You started to get nervous when Tomura disappeared after the yakuza thing. You had been discussing a lot of quirk singularity conspiracy theories and the Meta liberation message, touching on the heteromorph plight. You had plenty of heteromorph friends, but you never asked them what horrible things they had to deal with daily. You started to feel good about what you were doing for rent. You had no idea what this could be, but you had a sinking feeling it was the nutty eugenics religion.

They brought you before a skinny man. The man's voice was filled with contempt as he spoke, "You'll be working directly under me for the social media saturation. We are looking for young males and a heteromorph demographic. I've seen some of your work, and I must say, I was only mildly disappointed. He said he wanted to see you."

"He?"

"Yes, him," the thin man spat. "The leader. The boss. The man, I'm sure, only has malicious and depraved intentions for you. Brace yourself. Take her to him. The rest of us have real work to do."

Your heart raced as the door slammed shut behind you. You were thrust into a dark and mysterious chamber, the only sound of swords clashing and ringing off the walls. In the corner, you could make out the silhouette of a pale man in a bed. At the same time, a scaly, reptilian figure shouted for healing spells. You get closer to get a better look at the guy in the bed.

"Ten?" You ask timidly. Those red eyes land on you. A grin splits his mouth in two. Before you can escape, he grabs you and pulls you down to the bed, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate kiss. You can feel the intensity of his embrace, and you know you won't be leaving anytime soon.

"My tough girl," he purrs. Tomura's gaze was intense as he slowly moved his hands over your body, making your clothes turn to dust. He pulled you closer and ravished you before you could even say hello.

"Tomura!" you gasped in surprise as he kissed you hungrily.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't wait any longer," he said before continuing his passionate assault.

Your skin felt alive as his hands explored your body, and you soon forgot everything else.

"I should probably go," Spinner said with a rosy blush.

Tomura paused for a moment, and you both smiled. "This is my friend Spinner. Spinner, this is my girlfriend. She'll be doing your interview later. Right now, I'm going to fuck her brains out," Tomura mumbled around your nipple.

You covered your face and said it was nice to meet him, then Tomura resumed his passionate onslaught. You knew you'd never forget this moment. Ten grabbed your face and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. His tongue explored your mouth hungrily as if he hadn't tasted you in years. He pulled away, and you felt his hardness pressing against your lips, and you knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him. His salty flavor invades your mouth. He slowly pushed himself inside you. You gasped at the sensation, his thick girth filling your throat completely. You felt yourself start to tremble, and he held you tighter, his hands gripping your head as he thrust into you. He bucked his hips harder and faster, pushing you to the brink as he fucked your throat. You cried out in ecstasy as he drove deeper and deeper down your throat. He pulled away, his eyes burning with desire.

"Open wide," he said, his voice low and commanding. Finally, he let out a deep groan and slowed his movements. Shooting his hot load on your tongue. He reached around and snapped several pictures as he moved, capturing the moment's intensity before he let you swallow. You collapsed into his arms, exhausted and full.

"Be honest. That don't look in the trunk was a set up so you could doe this?" You asked. A knowing grin quirked his face.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice full of emotion. "I missed you so much. I'm not going to let you go. I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk. I want to give you a pearl necklace."

You smiled up at him. He was as lewd and brazen as ever.

"I missed you too," you grinned.

[hapfish]

Hey! I'm making a F!Leo cosplay and I was wondering if you have any advice for how to do the shell? The plastron, specifically. Yours was amazing! Ty xx

Yeah of course!!! Luckily the rise plastrons are very geometric so its pretty easy to make a pattern from it! I dont have pictures of early steps so pls bear with me <3 info n pictures below the cut

First thing i did was make a pattern of my torso with plastic wrap and tape so i could see the curve of my stomach and chest. Cant say this helped a TON, but i cant imagine things in my head, so it helped me conceptualize the size and dimensions i would need the front panels to be to cover my torso.

Next i started sketching small patterns for what the cut outs may look like. DEFINITELY make a paper pattern, this took a lot of trial and error and you dont want to waste too much foam. I cannot for the life of me find my paper patterns unfortunately, but hopefully you can see part of where im coming from with the detailed pictures of the plastron!! I made patters for 1/2 of the plastron, and flipped the patters over to make the other half mirrored and symetrical.

Now the cutting. I used .7mm foam (i think?? I got it from micheals. Joann fabrics has some but only small sheets. If you want less seams you should get the bigger ones, or buy massive sheets online. EVA foam isnt too hard to find, but make sure your density and width is appropriate for what youre making. When actually cutting the pieces out, some cuts will be flat while others may work best at an angle. I used mostly 90* and 45* angles to make clean edges and corners.

Bear with me bc the pictures in this next part are kinda uglie </3 ill explain why later.

For matching the curve of the body, i used a fresh blade and made shallow triangle cuts on the backside of the foam as can be seen here:

It would have worked better if the chest pieces were also vurved by i was on a time crunch and didnt have the time to make a 3rd or fourth plastron (yes this was a second fully completed attempt orz). Im also a bigger dude so it may be easier if your torso is smaller. I also had the benefit of making my pants from scratch (using a demon slayer uniform pattern that i altered) so i made the waistband big enough to tuck the shell into, which helped with keeping it curved around my body.

(This but only applies to future leo and i did post gluing the pieces together, but for his Top Surgery Scars™️ i cut into the chest at a 45*angle, then glued those pieces back onto the back side to seal the cut)

For gluing, i tried a whole lot of types but jothing worked as well as cement glue. It is toxic tho so make sure you do it outside or with good ventilation, and wear gloves/a mask. I did two layers on each edge then stuck the edges together, 3 if i noticed the foam absorbing it to much. Make sure you take the gluing slow and really put pressure on the pieces to lock them together. Follow the instructions and youll do fine.

For painting, i did 2 layers of modge podge, 1-2 priming layers (depends on if foam is white or black to start), and then whatever layers you need for a smooth coat of color. I topped it off with modgepodge again to seal it, but that may not have been the best idea for the following reasons....

EW YUCK. WHY IT LOOK LIKE THAT.

Well. It didnt always. Turns out when youre wearing approx 3 laters in the summer then cover your body with insulating foam, the heat and moisture makes the modgepodge MELT. and like i said before, this bottom portion was tucked into my pants so it did not breathe. I have yet to even try to find a solution but just keep it in mind when making your cosplay (and if you find a solution PLEASE LET ME KNOW! My one idea was tryna find a sealant that wont melt (obv) but idk what that would be)

And FINALLY. how to secure it to the body suit!! I used snaps!! So easy and nice (besides the melting issue but thats a different thing entirely.) They never came off or gave me problems (minus the melting) and made the shells easy to transfer/travel with and put on.

(Heres a pic of them on the suit sewn in by hand, and above you can see them on the shell itself.)

All in all, The plastron was so so hard and im honestly still not happy with it, planning to remake it before i wear him again. Please show me your cosplay when you finish it, id love to see!! Please lemme know if you have any other questions!! 🐢💙

[inadaydream99]

Even When You Were Invisible

Based on the movie The Princess Diaries (2001)

NCT Dream Jisung x fem reader, fluff

A/N - so I recently rewatched The Princess Diaries and just had to write this into a oneshot. This focuses more onto the budding romance side-plot of the film, so I’ve taken some liberties and adapted the narrative a bit. This is also unedited for now - please excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes!

Disclaimer: I have used a direct quote from the film which is in italics. I am not trying to replicate the film, just use the plot as inspiration. I do not take any credit for this plot. This does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only. Jaemin’s character does not reflect him and is purely to fulfil the shallow character he plays. Mild use of language (like 5 swears, maybe??)

“How’s my baby?” You gleam at Jisung, catching him off guard from where he’d been so focused on tinkering around with the car engine in front of him. He bolts upright beside you, quickly grabbing hold of the car bonnet and slamming it down before reaching into his pocket to pull out the rag he uses to wipe off the engine oil from his hands.

“All good.” His voice comes out strained, watching as your smile somehow grows wider. He observes the way your hand smooths over the shiny baby blue metal of the car, gazing into the way it reflects your loving expression.

“Well, she looks amazing.” Your eyes flicker up to meet his, watching the way his Adam’s apple bops. “Thank you, Sungie.”

“Oh, it was really no problem…” he gushes, playing down all the turmoil your precious car has given him over the last few weeks. Not that Jisung ever plans on telling you about all the extra hours he’s spent fixing up your car for you. He doesn’t mind at all. He spends most of his free time at the garage anyway because his band is also allowed to practice there in return for Jisung helping out repair some cars.

It’d be a dead giveaway to all of the feelings he has towards you and he also knows you’d insist on paying him extra for his time if you knew when you’ve already put every penny of your savings into repairing the car you’d worked so hard to get.

Besides, with the way you look at him now, radiating so much adoration, Jisung feels it’s more than enough compensation for his hard work.

“You’re the best!” You reach out to ruffle his hair the second he ducks his head shyly from your compliment. Whispered giggles tumbling from his lips as his cheeks burn. “Can I pick her up tomorrow after school?” You shine those big doe-like eyes at him.

“No problem.” Jisung nods, smiling warmly. And he watches you skip out of the garage with so much excitement, shouting a “see you at school!” over your shoulder. Just as you have left his line of sight, Jisung is called over by his band mates for practice. And while they spend the rest of the evening playing their songs, Jisung continues to replay your interaction over in his mind. Damn, he’s down bad for you.

You reach home quicker than usual, thanks to the spring in your step from Jisung’s amazing work with your baby. You’re so unbelievably excited to finally be able to drive your dream car. You’ve wanted a baby blue mustang since you can remember, so you’d scraped all of your savings from your part time job together to buy the old beaten up car and payed the garage where Jisung works to make your car dreams come true.

“That you honey?” You hear your mom call as you walk further into your house. She sends you a smile over her shoulder when your bag clatters onto the kitchen table. Picking up an apple from the fruit bowl as you watch her refocus on the painting before her.

“Did you get another commission?” You speak through half-chewed apple.

“Uh-huh.” You mom hums, placing down her brush carefully onto the tray beside her easel before turning to you. “Who knew posting my art online would rake in so much work?”

“I did.” You tease, taking another bite of your apple.

Your mom shakes her head at you while rinsing her hands in the sink. All the while, you push yourself away from the counter, grabbing your bag to begin heading to your room.

“(Y/N), wait!” Your mom calls just as you reach the stairs. “Your grandmother called today. The live one.” Your mom adds upon seeing your shock.

“The one I’ve never met?” You tilt your head in confusion, bushy eyebrows furrowing. “What would she suddenly want?”

“She said she wants to have tea with you after school tomorrow.” Your mom explains. “Something about important news she needs to share with you.”

“Oh, I was supposed to pick up my car tomorrow… but I guess I’ll have to rain check.”

That was two weeks ago now and little did you know at the time how much your life was about to change.

The following afternoon, when you’d arrived at your estranged grandmothers house - or should you say mansion - you’d had your world flipped upside down.

“A-a Princess-” your mouth hangs agape, unable to comprehend the situation at hand. Your eyes dart around the room, looking from your grandmother to her staff, then the security, before finally landing back on your grandmothers perfectly calm expression. She’s not joking. “No no no nonononono." You shake your head.

“You’ve got the wrong person. I’m the furthest thing from a princess. Look at me!”

-

As it turns out, they did not have the wrong person. Your father, who you’d never met, had been heir to the throne of the small European country you’d never heard of and after his death, that left you - his only child - next in line.

You’d come to an agreement with your grandmother that, before anyone made any rash decisions, you’d give it some time to try out the role of Princess. And so commenced the ‘Princess training’ every day after school with your grandmother. You’d learn how to walk, talk, sit, stand and live like a true Princess within the agreed trial month between this life altering news and the annual independence ball.

Sworn to secrecy, you’d not told a soul about your new informed identity. So, while your private life has somehow changed in every single way, your school life has not budged an inch. From the hours of 8-3 you’re the same invisible girl, with your two bestest friends since kindergarten, Jisung and Chenle.

“Woah, he’s so dreamy.” You gush, resting your chin in your palm as you watch Jaemin walk past your lunch table. Jisung simply rolls his eyes at the way you simp over the most popular guy in school, like always. He doesn’t get the hype around Jaemin. So what if he’s the captain of the football team, extremely lean and always seems to have perfectly shiny hair? Anyone could have all of those things. Jisung could have all of those things…

Despite the fact that he’s almost flunking gym class because of his terrible hand-eye co-ordination in football.

Jisung feels his only consolation is that Jaemin is dating Nina, the head cheerleader.

“Anyway…” Chenle speaks a little louder, “as I was saying before (Y/N) let her hormones take away from the crisis at hand. How am I going to get another guest for my show on Saturday?”

Ah yeah, you were trying to console Chenle on his last minute drama. His school curricula radio show, Talking with Chenle, had finally been getting more than three listeners a week. And ever since his audience has started to slowly grow, he’s been putting more and more pressure on himself to promote the topics he cares about with guests.

“Dude, chill. You still have four days to find a replacement.” Jisung grumbles from beside you. He looks a little like he’s sulking, although you have no idea what could have possibly made him so annoyed within the last thirty minutes that you’ve been sat at your lunch table.

“So much help you are.” Chenle fires at the grumpy Jisung on your left as he stands from the table, slings his bag over his shoulder and storms off.

You turn your attention to said grump, frowning.

“That wasn’t nice Sungs.” You watch as regret consumes his face, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he mumbles a muted apology.

“So, are you collecting your car from the garage tonight?” Jisung finally builds up enough courage to ask you. He’s been battling in his mind for the last few days on how to bring this up, so he’s a little nervous, but tries his best to suppress the shyness that wants to win over.

“Oh I can’t.” You guiltily grimace. You feel terrible putting him off again, especially when you were meant to pick up your baby weeks ago. But, since you’ve been having your ‘Princess lessons’ everyday, you’ve had no time. “I’m seeing my Grandmother.”

“Again?” Jisung regrets how quickly the word slips out of his mouth. But you don’t seem offended, nodding yes in response.

“How about Saturday?” You quizzically raise a brow, biting down onto the corner of your bottom lip in anticipation.

“Saturday works…” You let out a breath in relief upon Jisung’s agreement. “…and maybe you can stay for a bit, hang out?” Jisung suggests.

“…it’s just my band are practicing that afternoon in front of a few people and it’d be great to have a bit more of an audience…” Jisung trails off, cutting off his word vomit just in time to notice the way your smile reaches your eyes.

“Sounds perfect.” You beam, just as the bell rings for class.

-

You were beyond nervous. Petrified, if you’re completely honest. Yesterday evenings ‘Princess lesions’ with your grandmother had turned out to be a head-to-toe makeover and you’d come out the other end of the evening looking like someone entirely different. Some may even say, like a Princess. Gone were your glasses, bushy eyebrows, your hair had been cut and the frizz tamed. To you, you look almost unrecognisable. To Chenle, you look amazing. But to Jisung, you look like the very thing you’d always swore you’d never want to be - a popular - and it scared him.

While you liked your new look, you felt like a bit of a sellout for complying with the makeover to look more ‘regal’ - as your grandmother had described it. So you’d walked into your first class of the day wearing a grey bucket hat, so as to cover as much of your new look as possible.

Jisung had to do a double take when you entered the classroom and took your usual seat beside him. He’d always thought you were beautiful before, but wow, you’d somehow managed to ascend to another level quite literally overnight. From under the hat, he could see your bright eyes and long lashes. The neat shaping of your eyebrows and the plumpness of your lips, accentuated by the baby pink lip gloss you’d applied. Although, he’s unsure of why you’re wearing a hat on such a warm summers day, especially when you’re inside.

“Okay class, simmer down.” Your teacher, Mr Sums enters from the back of the room, hushing all of the excited chatter in the room as he places down his bag on the front desk and begins to set up for the class. “Yes, Nina?” He acknowledges without so much as glancing in her direction.

Nina sat in the seat behind you, perfectly poised and ready to strike. She’s the head girl in your grade for a reason, with her off-scale intelligence, popularity and cunning attitude. She will take down anyone who gets in her way. Which, right now, is your hat covered head that’s in her line of vision to the front of the class.

“Mr Sums. Isn’t there a rule about no hats allowed?” You can feel her smirk on the back of your neck, letting out a concealed huff as you try to prepare yourself for what you know is going to happen next.

“You’re right Nina.” Mr Sums sighs, “(Y/N), please could you remove your improper dress coded attire?” He glances at you and your mortified expression, watching as you gulp down your nerves while simultaneously reaching up to reluctantly slip your hat off.

Out tumbles your perfectly smooth hair as it cascades down past your shoulders. Jisung’s eyes almost pop out of his head from beside you. Not that you notice, too busy being consumed by the gasps from your classmates.

“Oh wow.” You hear Nina laugh, “Look who’s trying to fit in now?”

Her sickly-sweet tone only makes your cheeks burn deeper and you try to sink into your chair.

“Well, I think (Y/N) looks stunning, actually.” Your head whips towards Jisung, grateful for him sticking up for you. You send him a thankful smile as class begins and everyone’s attention is turned away from you. For now.

-

“So what’s the deal with your sudden change of appearance?” Chenle questions as he shovels his salad into his mouth. His words come out slightly muffled between the half-chewed lettuce and Jisung just rolls his eyes.

“Nothing.” You try to shut down the topic, bowing your head into your own lunch.

“It’s clearly not nothing.” Chenle deadpans, before narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re hiding something.”

“Am not.” You grumble into your sandwich.

“So you’ll be coming to my baseball game after school then, like we agreed weeks ago?”

Shit. You’d completely forgotten about Chenle’s baseball game and you know for certain you can’t get out of seeing your grandmother.

“I can’t.”

“See!” Chenle drops his fork into his salad, folding his arms as he turns to Jisung for support. “What? Are you just bored with us now? Don’t want to be friends anymore?”

“No, that’s not even close!” You cry in distress.

“Then tell us what’s so important that you keep dropping us (Y/N).”

You bite down on your jittering bottom lip, your worried eyes casting from Chenle’s unimpressed expression to Jisung’s concerned one.

“I’m not allowed to tell…”

Upon this half-confession, Chenle drops his attitude and leans across the table to speak quieter.

“Are you in trouble? Being blackmailed again? Do we need to beat someone up?”

“No!” You shut down his conspiracies, hands flying up in surrender.

You know you shouldn’t tell anyone. But you also know that if you don’t spill it all to them now, you’ll risk loosing the only people keeping you sane. Heaving a deep sigh, you know what you have to do.

“Okay. You have to promise me you’ll keep this strictly between us.” You point between your two intrigued friends, encouraging them to lean into the table so you can whisper. “I’m serious. The repercussions if this gets out-”

“Just tell us.” Chenle rolls his eyes.

To other students, it simply looks like your gossiping like any other group of high schoolers. But if they were to look closely enough, they’d notice the way both Chenle and Jisung’s eyes blow wide and how the colour seems to drain from Jisung’s face faster than lightening.

“You’re a what-” you cover Chenle’s mouth before he has a chance to shout anything further, covering it with a “Shhhhh.”

“Promise this stays between us.” You stick your pinky finger out for them to link, watching as both of your friends entangle theirs around yours.

“Damn. Wish I could be a…” Chenle begins to mutter.

“Dude!”

-

Walking into school the next morning feels a little more unnerving than usual. You’re barely through the threshold of the gates when someone spots you and shouts “that’s her!”.

Everything’s a blur from that moment. With a frenzy of people shouting “Princess!”, a crowd of students swarm you in seconds, phones and cameras are flying in front of your face as they all take pictures and videos. You feel nauseous from being elbowed and shoved in the midst of the unfolding chaos. However, just when you think your about to spew your guts from the motion sickness, you feel a pair of hands find your waist and clutch onto you, wrapping you into the taller frame of your saviour and using their body as a shield until you’re safely out of the crowd.

“Follow me.” Your saviour moves you away from their hold, clutching onto your hand and forcing you to run as you’re dragged along behind them to a place of refuge. You’re pulled into the main building and twisted through the narrow corridors until there’s no one on your tail.

It’s not until you’re hidden inside a janitors closet that you’re able to look at the person before you and realise it’s Jisung.

“How do they know!” You rush back into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso and burying your face. Jisung is winded a little from the impact, tumbling a few steps back with you before he regains his balance.

“It’s ok. Everything’s going to be ok.” He whispers into the top of your head, fluttering his eyes shut as he inhales the floral scent of your freshly washed hair.

Of course, Jisung has no idea how your secret had gotten out, or what to do next. All he knows right now is how perfectly you fit in his arms and how much he wants to protect you.

“I want you to know, it wasn’t me.” You pull away from Jisung, peering into his worried eyes. You’d never once doubted it would have come from him and there’s nothing more in the world you want right now than to let him know that. Cupping his cheek, you brush your thumb over his soft skin.

“I’d never even consider that being a possibility.” You soothe.

Jisung drinks in every drop of affection you give him as though he’d been traversing the desert for days on end without water. Knowing you never could have accused him rehydrates him and makes his heart feel like it could burst.

“It wasn’t Chenle either. I was with him all evening after his baseball game.”

“I don’t doubt him either.” You reassure. “This feels bigger than just some school gossip.”

-

After cooling down in the janitors closet for a while, you’d managed to sneak out and into your first few classes of the day without too many people bombarding you. Your principle had made an announcement to not cause another commotion and all staff were on patrol during lesson changeovers and breaks.

“Wait, (Y/N)!” You turn to find Chenle forcing his way to the front of the cohort of students following you, instantly linking his arm with yours as you continue to uncomfortably make your way to class surrounded by your new admirers. “You’re an overnight sensation!” He beams, loving the attention on you both.

“Tell me about it…” you mumble, juxtaposing Chenle in every way. Unlike your friend, you’re not made for the limelight. You don’t like all the attention on you. Not now, not ever.

This was one of your biggest fears about people finding out you’re a Princess.

“So, you’ll be my special celebrity guest on Talking with Chenle this Saturday, won’t you?”

Your mouth gapes, finally making eye contact with him and ready to outright refuse. Until, you see how hopeful he looks.

Damn it. There’s no way you can turn him down.

“Sure…” you sigh, unable to hide the small smile that forces its way onto your face when he jumps in excitement.

“You’re awesome!”

-

“(Y/N)!”

You’re just closing your locker when you hear your name, your heart picking up pace from the unmistakeable voice of your caller.

Spinning around, you find none other than Jaemin, smiling at you with his signature smile and staring at you with those heart melting eyes.

“How are you holding up? Been a bit of a crazy day…” He leans one arm on the locker beside you, standing so close you can smell his earthy cologne.

“Just a bit.” You giggle sweetly.

It’s amazing how Jaemin can have such an affect on you. One word and your mind has gone to putty and you’ve forgotten how to act like a normal person.

“Well, I just wanted to apologise for Nina this morning…”

“Huh?” You furrow your brows, feeling yourself come back down to earth.

“She was the one who shouted when you entered the gates and made everyone swarm you?” Jaemin’s tone comes out unsure, not realising that you weren’t aware when you let out a light “oh.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I do not condone that at all. In fact, I broke up with her because of it.”

“You did?” You gush, surprise written all over your face.

…and you’re off in space again.

“Yeah, it was totally not cool.” Jaemin nods. “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the end of school beach party with me this Saturday?”

Oh my gosh! Na Jaemin just asked you out!

“Yes!” You blurt. “I-uh I mean, yeah” you swallow, “sounds cool.”

“Cool.” His smile reaches his eyes. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

You watch dreamily as Jaemin walks away to join his group of friends at their lunch table. You’re only pulled back into reality when you spot Jisung perched on the edge of the fountain across the courtyard.

“Guess who just asked me to go with him to the beach party this Saturday!” You park yourself next to Jisung on the ledge of the fountain. “Jaemin!” You squeal your answer when Jisung simply raises an inquisitive brow at you.

“But, what about seeing my band practice?” Jisung tries to not sound depleted.

“Well, I was hoping we could reschedule? I just, I’ve been wanting to go out with Jaemin since forever and you’ll have other band practices, right?”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Jisung forces a smile, feeling himself deflate the second you’ve squeezed him in a tight hug before skipping off to get some lunch.

His attention flickers over to the table where Jaemin sits. How could Jisung ever compare? He’d always felt you were unattainable to him because of how he was too shy to express his feelings. And that was before your new look and title. But now? He has no shot.

You’re a Princess for goodness sake. You belong with the most popular guy in school. Not a shy keyboard player in a band that sings in the local garage like him…

-

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here!” Your grandmother rushes to you as you arrive for your ‘Princess lesson’ of the day. She takes you by your shoulders and peers at you intently.

“Now,” she exhales a deep breath. “We’ve got the press under control with the looming promise of the annual independence ball, so long as they keep a little distance for now.”

You nod in understanding.

You were honestly a little nervous about seeing your grandmother this evening. You’d been worrying about her reaction to this all getting out, even though she is calm and has dealt with an unimaginable amount of trials and tribulations during her many years of reign. She is also strong willed and has made it clear to you that - even though you have yet to make the choice to accept your title and duty - the expectation of this trial period would be as though this is your future.

“And we’ve found that the leak was from the stylist we’d hired.”

There’s more relief in knowing your Grandmother knows it hadn’t come from you than there is from the culprit being found out.

“And we’ve got him doing a formal apology to the press this evening.”

-

Saturday rolls around quickly and before you know it, you’re on your way to the beach party for your date with Jaemin. Everyone who’s anyone is there; dancing, sunbathing or cooling off in the ocean as the sun begins to set.

You feel a little awkward as you walk down the beach to join the other party-goers. It seems like it’s well underway already and you’re not typically one to mix with the crowd in attendance.

“Welcome to paradise.” You almost jump out of your skin upon hearing Jaemin’s voice from your side. You had been so engrossed in your awe of the scene in front of you, you didn’t notice he’d walked over. “I got you a drink.”

You accept the plastic cup, your fingers brushing accidentally with his. Chuckling a flustered thanks before taking a sip, you try not to be affected by his amused grin. He thinks you’re so adorable. How had you been kept so hidden before?

“C’mon.” You feel Jaemin’s hand slip into yours, gently tugging you along with him to head further into the crowd…

“Hello, welcome to Talking with Chenle.” Chenle professionally introduces when his fellow producer Mark signals they are live. “On todays show, we have a special interview with the newfound Princess and close friend of mine, (Y/N).” Mark hits the applause button.

“But, before our main guest’s appearance, we have a short segment on the upcoming senior class projects, presented by our very own Mark.”

Mark jumps in with his pre-written script, listing out the upcoming events for the semester. Meanwhile, Chenle checks his phone to see if you’ve tried to contact him about your whereabouts. Nothing. You should have been here 30 minutes ago…

Back at the beach party, you’re having the time of your life dancing with Jaemin. Uncontrollable laughter tumbling from your lips as he takes your hand and spins you around.

“Who knew you were such a good dancer?” You teasingly glance up at Jaemin as he leads you out of the crowd of dancers and to the side for some much needed air, your hand still firmly in his.

“Well, who knew you would make such a great dance partner.” He praises back, succeeding in making you flustered.

You cast a shy glance up at him through your lashes, still unable to believe that this is reality. You really are here with Jaemin, hand in hand in front of everyone. You feel like you should pinch yourself, just to double check your not dreaming all of this.

That is, until reality comes crashing down in a burning rage. What you’d simply brushed off as a plane flying above you, turned out to be a helicopter filled with paparazzi. It lowers, the wind from the propeller cutting off the party and almost knocking everyone off their feet as multiple cameras flash at you, trying their best to get a good snapshot.

You panic, a million questions buzzing around your mind. What should you do? How do you get away? But most of all, how did they know you’d be here?

“Quick, follow me!” Jaemin pulls you, both of you running towards the lifeguard shack at the back of the beach.

Once inside, Jaemin bolts the door shut and silence and darkness settle around you.

“I’m so sorry.” You plant your face into your hands as you fall into the chair behind you. Being chased by paparazzi - all shouting Princess at you - was not a part of your imagined date with Jaemin. And it’s mortifying to know that’s the reality.

“Hey.” You hear him whisper, his larger hands coercing yours away from your face. In the time you’ve been wallowing, Jaemin had made his way over to you and knelt down to your level so the first thing you see are his eyes and the way they catch the moonlight that filters in through the crack in the curtain covered window. “It’s not your fault.”

His sincerity mesmerises you and washes away your humiliation. How does he do it? How does he seem to know the exact right thing to say?

Meanwhile, Chenle’s radio show is crashing and burning live on air. The last forty-five minutes have been filled with Marks terrible jokes and ramblings and it’s all because of you.

“Alright, I’m off.” Chenle sounds defeated, taking off his headphones and making a stand from his chair the second the ‘live’ light goes dim.

Mark doesn’t respond, nodding his understanding as he watches his friend walk away. He knows it’s not his fault. Heck, Mark did everything he could to act on the spot and make the best out of the shit situation. Chenle is grateful for Marks loyalty and perseverance.

But damn, he still wishes you’d showed… they both do.

“Ok, I think they’ve given up.” Jaemin asserts, peaking through the curtain to find a dark and empty seeming beach. The relief that fills you has you following Jaemin out of the lifeguard shack without thought.

“Thank you for sticking by me, it means a lot.” You timidly smile at Jaemin, allowing him to take your hand in his as you begin to walk up the beach.

Before you have time to register, a bright flash snaps in front of you, the momentary blindness giving time for multiple lurking paparazzi to spring out from their hiding places and surround you both.

“Princess! Who’s your date?”

“Is this your boyfriend?”

“Princess, give him a kiss!”

The crowd shout as you panic, looking around to try and find an escape route.

You spot a slither in the sea of bodies and pull on Jaemin’s hand, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he complies to the crazy demands of the privacy invading press and scoops your body into his. His lean arms make your desperation to get away worthless and before you know it, he’s cupped your cheek and forced you to look at him.

With one final deer-in-the-headlights look at him, Jaemin crashes his lips to yours.

It takes you a few seconds to register what he’s doing, before you muster up the strength to shove him away and force yourself out of the circle.

You can’t believe he just did that.

-

“It’s really not that bad.” Jisung tries to console you.

You’re flopped over the table, head in your arms as you try to block out every piece of reality. After Saturday’s kiss fiasco, the picture had been posted everywhere. There was no escaping the horrifying image of your first kiss with Jaemin. No less because you’d always dreamt your first kiss with Jaemin would be magical, like something out of a fairytale. And while you may be a Princess, this feels nothing close to those magical Disney princess movies you adored so much growing up.

For starters, where is your fairy godmother? You could really use one of those right about now…

He can’t lie, Jisung’s a little heartbroken seeing the picture of you kissing someone else posted everywhere. He’s upset for you, knowing how much you hate the situation. But, selfishly, he’s more gutted for himself. That should be him in Jaemin’s place. In fact, if he’d been lucky enough to kiss you, the image wouldn’t have existed because he never would have done it in front of the cameras. Knowing that Jaemin used you to get his 15 minutes of fame angers him too. The first time he saw the picture online, his fists had clenched so tightly from the rage that bubbled up in his stomach his nails had left little crescent moons in his palms. And yet, he can’t bring himself to not look at the grainy image.

“Not that bad?” You retort. “Any hope I had of being Princess has gone down the drain.” You begin to sob.

“What’s my grandmother going to say?”

Jisung doesn’t realise how stern his face had been until he finally looks away from the picture to find your eyes peaking out from their hiding spot. His gaze softens in a heartbeat, his hand reaching out to instinctively rub your back.

From your peripheral, you recognise the group passing by and tear your gaze away from Jisung’s to find Jaemin and his friends snickering as they walk past.

“Hey (Y/N), great kiss.” Jaemin puckers his lips mockingly.

You’re not sure what hurts you more, having reality shred the mask to uncover his true, obnoxious personality to you or knowing how many years you spent pining over someone so shallow.

“Ugh.” You bury your face back into the safety of your arms, blocking out all daylight and - you hope - reality.

-

After a lot of pep-talk from Jisung, he finally managed to coax you into going to your next class. But it’s not until final period, when see Chenle enter the classroom, that you realise you hadn’t seen or heard from him since last week. You send him a smile when he makes eye contact, feeling confused when he frowns back before taking a seat on the opposite end of the room.

You find yourself casting glances in his direction throughout the class, hoping to catch him looking over at you at least once. But nothing. Not even a peep is sent your way.

“Chenle,” you chase after him. Barely five seconds after your teacher had dismissed class, Chenle had been out of the door and down the corridor. You’d had to sprint through the throngs of students just to get to him before he got out of the building. “Why’d you not sit with me?”

But your question is met with the biggest eye roll you’ve ever seen as Chenle continues to make his way out of the school grounds.

“Did I do something?” You press.

“Did you do something?” Chenle fires back at you, narrowing his eyes vehemently. “Try what you didn’t do!”

You’re dumbstruck.

“I have no ide-”

“My radio show Saturday?” Chenle sasses. Thank goodness you’re down the street by the time Chenle finally stops walking and begins exploding on you. “I had to listen to Marks lame jokes for an hour.”

“Oh my god! I’m so unbelievably sorry.” Your eyes go wide, mortified at how you’d completely forgotten about being Chenle’s guest. “I’ll make it up to you next time, I swear!”

“There won’t be a next time.” Chenle scoffs, turning away once again. “Oh,” he stops himself to mention one last thing. “and, just so you know, just because you a Princess now, doesn’t mean the only thing that matters is you.”

-

“Hey Sungs.” You mournfully approach where Jisung finishes polishing your car. The garage is oddly quiet, no music or clatter sounding in the usually busy space. No. Instead, it seems like it’s just you and Jisung here. “Thank you for taking such good care of my baby.”

“No problem.” Jisung sends you a half-smile as he hands over the keys. “She’s all yours.”

“You don’t know how much this means to me.” You warmly smile, but feel your mood drop when he doesn’t reciprocate like he usually does. There’s a silence that fills the space between you. You’ve never felt so awkward with Jisung before.

“Well… I better get going…” you try not to sound too deflated, jangling your keys in the air as you go to open your car door.

You watch as Jisung takes a step back from the car, his hands stuffed awkwardly in his pockets as he wordlessly watches you.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You timidly look at Jisung, stopping yourself from clutching the car door handle in front of you. “You don’t think I think the only thing that matters is me, right?”

There’s a timidity to your tone that makes Jisung gulp. He knows all about the argument because Chenle had ranted down the phone to him for a hour after school and he can tell Chenle’s words have gotten to you. At the same time, however, he feels a little dumbfounded that you seem to only realise this now, after you’d had someone shout it in your face. It’s even more ironic you only ask Jisung of his thoughts when you are just about to take the finished car home. The very one that you’ve been stringing him along with for weeks. He knows he has to be honest with you.

“There were times when I would say I agree, yes.” Jisung nods. “I mean, you dropped me for Jaemin in a heartbeat and he’d never once given you the time of day before your Princess glow-up.”

“Right. I really should go…” you voice comes out hoarse. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jisung feels terrible as you spare no more time getting into your car and starting the engine. It revs to life and roars as you drive away, leaving him alone once again. But the it sinks in how much you’d made him feel used. You’d chosen to walk away from the truth when you’d asked him for it. And Jisung can’t help but feel disappointed.

-

Walking through the halls the next day you feel so insecure. Groups of students stop their conversation to stare at you as you pass, their expressions unreadable, leaving you unable to tell if they are judging you or just fascinated.

Reaching your locker in the courtyard, your eyes light up in hope upon seeing Chenle a few doors down at his locker. You watch him until he notices you, forcing a meek smile his direction when he does. But instead of him smiling back and making his way over to you, he frowns and slams his locker shut before walking the opposite direction.

You self-consciously peer around, hoping no one had witnessed that rejection and your eyes light up when you spot Jisung.

“Jisung!” You call as he walks past. But he doesn’t even acknowledge you. Instead, he picks up his pace and your eyes follow him as he catches up with Chenle. You turn back to focus on getting the right books out of your locker, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill.

How had you managed to mess up so bad that your friends won’t even acknowledge you…

With tears still in your eyes, you enter your next class with your head hanging low. You can’t bear to look up and see your two friends, knowing they won’t speak to you. Instead, you rush to the back of the room and take the seat furthest in the corner.

But when you do eventually look up towards the front of the classroom, you catch Jisung glancing your way. He turns back to face the front a split second after. But there’s as hope that flows through you from catching the longing in his expression.

Maybe there’s still a way to win them back.

-

It’s taken a few days to figure out, but you think you know how to get your friends to forgive you. Starting with Chenle.

First you have to sneak up on him so he doesn’t get away when you try to talk to him, which from his avoidance of you the past week, has proven more challenging than you thought. But you do manage to corner him in class as everyone leaves for lunch.

“Chenle, I want to make it up to you.” You plea. “I just want everything to be right between us again.” While you’ve technically been successful in talking to him, he’s still refusing to look at you. “Tell me what I can do…”

This piques his interest.

“Stop being a Princess.” He flatly states. If only he knew…

That was actually something you’d been working on, deciding days ago that you don’t think you’re cut out for accepting royal duty as a Princess. You’ve already spoken to your grandmother about this and, despite her reluctance and assurance that you would be more than capable for the role, you’d come to a mutual agreement to make no public announce until the evening of the ball.

You wish you could tell Chenle, but you can’t break your promise to your grandmother. You’re done breaking promises you’ve made.

“Well, I was thinking more along the lines of attending the independence ball this Saturday?” You send him a hopeful beam.

You take his blank expression and lack of a quick response as a good sign and continue to persuade.

“It’s invitation only…”

Chenle sighs. Damn him and his weakness for exclusivity. Plus, he’s always wanted to go to a ball and he doesn’t know when he’ll get this type of opportunity again.

“Fine!” He caves. “You’re forgiven.”

You squeal, jumping into him to squeeze him in a hug. You feel his chest vibrate with laughter and look up to finally see him smiling.

“I missed you.” You gush as you pull away and begin walking down the hallway together.

“I know.” Chenle laughs heartily when you shove him and roll your eyes.

You finally feel like you’re on the right track. If you can get Chenle to forgive you, then you’re pretty certain Jisung will too. Now you just need to find him.

-

“Wassup bro.” Chenle greets Mark as you join his table for lunch. You’re familiar with Mark because he helps Chenle out with his radio show and you’ve always found him really bubbly and sweet on the few occasions you’ve spoken.

“Sup guys.” Mark greets you both warmly. “I see you’re back on speaking terms.”

“Yep.” Chenle responds through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about all of that.” You grimace towards Mark. “But I heard you’re on your way to becoming a comedic genius.”

“I think I’m good with sticking to the pre-scripted topics.” Mark laughs loudly.

“Oh, hey Jisung!” Chenle’s sudden shout almost makes you jump out of your skin.

You turn your attention to where Chenle looks to find Jisung casting an embarrassed side glance over to your table while trying to continue his conversation with one of his band mates Renjun.

You don’t really know Renjun, other than what you’ve observed. Even though he’s part of Jaemin’s popular group, he seems like a nice guy and there’s always been a part of you that’s been curious to know how he ended up with friends like Jaemin, Jeno and Donghyuck. All so loud and attention loving in comparison.

You watch as he bids Renjun goodbye and approaches, stuffing his hands into his pockets once he’s reached your table. It’s clear he doesn’t want to hang around…

“Aren’t you gonna join us for lunch?” Chenle snickers at his friend, his tone mocking at the way Jisung acts so hesitant.

“Actually, I-uh have,” Jisung gulps. “I have last minute band practice.”

“But you just said goodbye to Renjun?” Mark furrows his brows.

“Gotta go!” Jisung takes off as quickly as he can. He doesn’t look back when he hears you call after him, instead only ducking his head lower and picking up more speed. You have to run to catch him. Damn him and his long legs. You hate running.

“Jisung.” You pant, catching him by the arm and using all of your body weight to slow him down. He lets out a defeated sigh as he stops, knowing there’s no escaping having to talk to you now. “Please talk to me…” you beg, pleading with the best, saddest puppy eyes you can muster.

“What is there to say?” His voice comes of quieter than he wanted it to. He’s so hurt and upset with you and he wants to be able to express that. He usually can when it’s towards other people. But when it’s you on the receiving end, there’s just something that stops him. No matter how much you broke his heart.

“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have run away from what you’d said.”

Theres something in your words that makes him wake up and finally realise that he’s been running away too. Not just now. But for way too long. Jisung’s been running away from telling you how he really feels about you. For so long he’s talked himself into waiting for you to fall in love with him, to wake up and finally see that the person you should be with has been by your side the whole time. His feelings have been repressed and he’s forced himself to be invisible for too long. But he’s done with that now.

“Sungs, are you ok?” He blinks back into reality, not having realised he’d gotten caught up in overthinking for too long.

You watch him, wide eyed as he stands up straighter, determination written across his face.

“Actually, I have something I need to say.”

You nod, waiting intently.

“I’ve been an idiot for too long.” And… you’re confused. “I’ve let you walk all over me for years because I’ve been so in love with you.”

“Heck,” Jisung laughs at himself. “I even let you off when you ditched me for Jaemin because I kept telling myself that I wasn’t good enough for you.”

You feel your heart break knowing Jisung had been putting himself down like that. Any and every emotion courses through you as you try your best to take in the weight of his words.

“I-” you begin, but Jisung cuts you off before you have a chance to say anymore.

“I know you don’t feel the same… it’s ok.” Jisung forces a smile. “I just need some time apart.”

You feel like you’re suffocating, unable to voice anything as you watch Jisung walk away. Chocking on sobs as the weight of the world hits you like a ton of bricks.

You just wished you’d realised sooner. Because if you had, then maybe you wouldn’t have lost your best friend, you wouldn’t have hurt him for so long and maybe you wouldn’t have had your heart smashed to pieces like you just have.

-

“Can’t you just have someone do the speech for me?” Your voice is muted by the duvet that you insist to remain under. Your mom perched on the side of your bed as she encourages you to at least go downstairs to eat something.

It’s the morning of the annual independence ball and you’ve not left your bed since you’d gotten home the day before.

You’d had many home truths and realisations from Jisung yesterday. But cocooning yourself inside your duvet has really helped you process a lot. Like the fact that you love Jisung too… and not in just a platonic way. He’s always been there for you and you’ve taken that for granted.

You’ve been so dumb to your feelings for so long, brushing infatuation off as excitement or just that you really care for Jisung, when reality is that your heart doesn’t flip every time he smiles just because he’s your best friend. It flips every time he smiles because his smile is one of your favourite things in the world. It eases your worries and brightens your day.

Just being around Jisung makes you feel like everything’s going to be ok. He’s always so supportive and soft-natured. He takes care of you not because he’s a good friend but because he loves you.

You know that if he were to be here today, you’d be able to get through your speech this evening, facing crowds of people and answering to them why you are abdicating your royal duties. With Jisung by your side, you can get through anything.

Without him you’re lost.

Similarly, Jisung has been trying to drown out reality since he confessed to you by focusing all of his energy on his band practice and fixing up cars. He went straight from school to the garage and worked through the night to try and get his mind off of you.

Which is why he jolts awake to Chenle shouting in his ear for him to “wake up!”

“Why!” He cries, rubbing his sore neck from the poor posture of his sleep on the couch by his band’s equipment.

“You seriously slept here last night?” Chenle doesn’t hold back any judgment, raising his brow at Jisung as he grumbles out unintelligible remarks under his breath.

“I get you’re heart broken or whatever, but that doesn’t mean you should give up now.”

“Well, what else should I do?” Jisung, still sat in the chair he’d slept in, sulks like a child.

“Uh, I don’t know, go after her?” Chenle retorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“But she doesn’t feel the same, I’d just be making a fool of myself…”

Chenle scoffs. How does he not see it?

“Of course (Y/N) feels the same. It’s so obvious.” Chenle leans down to place his hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “Trust me. I’ve had to watch you both almost every day for years.”

He’s not joking. He really has. All the times he’s rolled his eyes at the way you both act so soppy towards the other. You’ve both been too wrapped up in either convincing yourself that you have no shot, or mistaking your feelings to notice.

Jisung springs to his feet. With the way Chenle remains so serious, he knows he must be telling the truth.

“I need to win her back!”

-

You frantically pack, shoving everything you can into your bag before anyone catches on to what your about to do. You feel so hopeless, like a complete failure and you know you can’t face the crowd of influential people and reporters to decline your role of Princess. So you’re running away.

You’d managed to convince your grandmother to not send a limo because your mom wanted to take you to your first ball. And you’d also lied to your mom, telling her that your grandmother had organised a limo to pick you up.

As soon as your mom had left, the race against time had begun and you’d been flying around your room packing.

You pick up the embossed faux-leather diary your grandmother had gifted you when you’d first met and found out you were a Princess, stilling when it slips from your grasp and falls open to reveal a letter that had been tucked in between the pages.

Carefully picking it up and unfolding it, you realise it’s from your father before he passed away.

His heartfelt words bring tears to your eyes as he expresses all the love he has for you and his country as soon to be King. But the final line strikes something within you that makes you rethink everything you had planned to do.

“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. From now on you’ll be travelling the road between who you think you are and who you can be. The key is to allow yourself to make the journey.”

-

Helping Jisung come up with a plan to win you back is easy for Chenle. With the independence ball being that evening, nothing could be more perfect than Jisung turning up, declaring his love and sweeping you off your feet. Just like a true Prince. So he’d offered the plus 1 you’d given him to Jisung.

Waiting in the grand hall for your arrival feels like an eternity. Everyone seems to be here except you.

“Have either of you seen (Y/N)?” Your mom rushes up to Chenle and Jisung in a slight panic. Both of them shrug, shaking their heads no in response. “She told me a limo was picking her up, but apparently she told her grandmother I was bringing her.”

Shit. There’s something in Jisung that springs into action upon the possibility that you could be in danger.

“Stall until I get back.” Jisung directs Chenle.

“Where are you going?!” Chenle shouts back, but it’s too late. Jisung’s already run off.

“Oh no no no…” you whine as your car conks out, the heavens pouring down on you and pooling in your hatch-back. “Is this what I get for messing everything up!” You shout at the sky, flopping back into your seat and sobbing your heart out.

You don’t blame the universe for this payback. You deserve it after all your selfishness. But you have been trying to make amends, to right all of your wrongs. You have every intention to go to the independence ball to share your decision in person. It’s the least your families country deserve. It’s the least your family deserve. But, right now, you’re failing. Failing at getting to the ball on time just like you failed at making amends with Jisung.

Gosh, even when you’re trying to do something else it’s still seems to end up on Jisung…

Just as you’re giving up all hope, a car horn jolts you up in your seat with a gasp. The headlights blind you momentarily as they round the corner, until the car has stopped beside you.

“Need a ride, Princess?” Your mouth hangs agape as the window rolls down to reveal Jisung in the drivers seat.

Although you can only see the top half of him, you’re heart summersaults from his attire. There he is, coming to your rescue, dressed in a black tuxedo and bow tie. He looks just like Prince Charming.

“How did you find me?” You remain in your car, unable to move from the shock… and the cold. You look like a drowned rat as the storm continues to shower down on you.

By this point, Jisung had gotten out of his car, into the pouring rain and rushed over to help lift you out of your vehicle to transfer you into the warmth and shelter of his own.

“Lucky guess.” He smirks from the drivers seat, twisting the keys and bringing the car to life again, before racing through the dark deserted streets.

You watch him from the passenger seat as he remains focused on the road, mesmerised by the steady focus of his eyes and his tight jaw, the way his hair - now wet from your rescue - drips little droplets of water onto his forehead and nose, down his cheeks to his perfectly plump lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You’re caught off guard by his question as it breaks the silence that had settled. You hadn’t even realised you’d been staring that long, or the fact he’d noticed.

“I was… just looking.” You blush, turning to look out your window. You’re just thankful it’s dark right now.

A few seconds go by and you begin to recognise the street just as the car pulls into your grandmothers driveway and stops at the entrance.

“Wait!” You clutch onto Jisung’s arm as he goes to open his door. He freezes from the touch before slowly twisting back to look at you. “Thank you.” You whisper.

“It was no problem.” Jisung sends you a tight lipped smile.

“No. I mean, thank you for always being there for me.” You elaborate, moving your grip down his arm until you get to his hand, entangling your fingers with his. “For loving me.”

Jisung’s breath hitches. He’s not sure what to say. It’s like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs. And the way you continue to stare at him makes him feel so warm and fuzzy and loved.

“(Y/N), I-”

“I know you said you wanted space.” You cut him off. “But I’m so lost without you.”

“Why me?” He whispers.

You slowly reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him in closer and closer until your noses touch. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe in his signature piney scent. The familiarity makes you feel like you’ve arrived back home and gives you the courage to utter your next words ever so breathily.

“Because you saw me when I was invisible.”

The next thing you know, Jisung’s lips are smashed against yours. You’re unsure which of you initiated it, not having had your eyes open in fear of his rejection. His lips are just as soft as you’d imagined they’ve be and you feel yourself unable to suppress the smile that explodes across your face, causing Jisung to smile into the kiss too.

Everything seems to fall into place again. Who knew kissing your best friend could feel so right?

Pulling apart breathlessly, you both continue to smile at each other, idiotically in love.

“We really should get inside and put Chenle out of his misery.” Jisung chuckles, only imagining the chaos he’s cause by trying to stall.

“I guess…” you trail off, sending Jisung a sheepish smirk. He knows exactly what you’re thinking. “…Or we could kiss some more?”

“We can do that later. But first, you have to tell your country you will be their Princess.”

~ bonus ~

“How’s my baby?” Jisung rolls his eyes.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” He deadpans, failing to hide the blush that tinges his cheeks from the way you smirk at him.

You know he loves it really.

“But it’s cute!” You continue to tease, laughing as you speak.

“Whatever you say Princess.”

[xaviers-student-union]

Xavier Student Paper: Issue #2

A return, and a dissapearence: Where is Gwen?

A few nights ago on a job, a friend of the Union; Miss Gwen Poole [ AKA; Gwenpool] dissapeared after reportedly being shot while working one of her jobs. Naturally, her line of work is incredibily dangerous and not without risks, and so this isn't the first time she's been injured. However, Miss.Pool is an active member or the community of heroes and anti-heroes and often interacts in person and through a newly popular medium for those in the buisenss of wearing poor fighting spandex and fighting people; known as Tumblr.

And more importantly, her beloved Jeff is currently being cared for not by Gwen...but by Scraps.

If anybody, anybody at all has any tips or leads to help confirm her status; if not her whereabouts. Please contact Deanne, at the numbers printed in the back of the issue

[ Relevent parties: @gwenpooleoffish , @scraps-stark ]

A Warm Welcome To our New Friend;

Since 2020, Eel has been somewhat off grid due to the outbreak of Corona Virus. Living off the shores in an old house boat, They have decided to make their return to mutant society by enrolling in the Xavier's adult courses; albeit in the medium of online school. We wish Eel a swift and smooth transition back into our community, and we hope you all here at the institute will treat them with warmth and kindness.

On that note, we'd like to officially remind folks that the institute in recent years doesn't just teach children, and prospective X-men. They offer degrees in unrelated subjects. For example, they are currently offering a Pre-Med course which is valid to get you into a medical programme upon graduation. Adult courses also include a dormitory that provides free housing, but with more privacy than the regular dorms inside the manor.

[Rlevent parties: @retrofittedfishmachine ]

Jasper's Monthly Spending Spree

As you all have probabaly heard, or even seen in our numerous posters around the building; it's that time of the month where Jasper takes the money his father forces on him and uses it to fund Pro-Mutant charities and campaigns. Aside from that, Jasper offers to buy everyone a gift.

If you're in need of anything, big or small please remember to contact him.

He's easy to find, as he practically lives in the library and club room.

Also, outside of his monthly spree he'd like to remind everyone that he's happy to step in and aid fellow students whose families may be falling behind with necessary payments. He has more money than he'd ever know what to do with. And, we're the worst to happen he has enough assets unrelated to his father that he would be able to live on. Though, jasper has asked I don't disclose anything more than that.

Extraterrestrial Cultural Exchange Club Event cancelled.

As forseen in last issue, it turns out that those "genuine" alien artefacts that the club leader promised were obtained legally and peacefully were in fact smuggled from the black market. As such, the event has been cancelled and all knowledgable parties have been barred from future club gatherings, participation and are receiving in school punishment.

All Alien artefacts gave been reappropriated to be returned to their rightful owners thanks to the work of Jean Grey, and Jasper. If you, or a family member have been impacted or believe your items to be missing please file a report with us and we will see to it that justice [ and your things return] be served.

Father and Daughter finally Talk; Everyone is pleased.

As of yesterday evening, Aranza Martinez and her Father; James Logan Howlett [AKA Wolverine] have had their talk. And while they're still figuring things out, they've both accepted that they want to be in each other's life. So, I hope everyone can join me in wishing them well.

It may be a long road to complete understanding, but hopefully with proper support and communication this could be the start of a fruitful, and happy parenting experience for a member of the xmen. So long as the mansion doesn't blow up.

Again.

[Relevant parties: @wolverineofficial ]

-

This about concludes this weeks issue but before we go I'd like to remind our readers to report anything they believe to be interesting! The newspaper uploads on Friday!

-

Author: Deanne

[retronator]

I never played Karateka in the 80s, but as a big fan of Prince of Persia and Jordan Mechner's journals, I was stoked to hear that an interactive documentary about Jordan's prototypical cinematic platformer was in the works by Digital Eclipse.

Released this week, The Making of Karateka on the surface looks like any other game you buy through Steam ($20, Windows-only), GOG, or whichever favorite store or console you prefer (available also for Xbox, PS4/5, Switch). Once the thing loads though, you really get 3 things: a documentary, the original Karateka, and a new remaster.

The documentary part is an audio-visual slideshow retelling Jordan's development story starting with his teenage years pitching his earlier title Deathbounce to the publishing house Brøderbund. It's an interesting look into the iterative process, seen through correspondence letters, journal entries, and many playable builds at various stages of completion. After we reach the eventual rejection of that title, Jordan comes back with a prototype of a visual-narrative experience unseen on home computers. We get to follow Karateka's full life cycle from pre- to post-production, ending with the conception of its sequel (which eventually turned into Prince of Persia). It's a real treasure trove! Fellow pixel artists will appreciate the many graph-paper sketches and interactive overlays of final game sprites compared to rotoscoped outlines and filmed footage. There are also video segments, from a comprehensive breakdown of the music to interviews with other developers reflecting on the impact Jordan's games had on their careers. You'll even encounter a fan letter signed by the one and only "John Romero, Disciple of the Great Jordan and worshipper of the Magnificent Mechner!" (I kid you not, you can't make this stuff up).

Perhaps just as crucial for an interactive documentary like this, you can launch any of the floppy disks in the emulator, trying out various iterations and ports of Karateka.

The emulation is fantastic and lets you fiddle with display settings (monochrome or color display, scanlines, pixel perfect or zoomed) as well as enhance the frame rate. You can even rewind the many deaths you will face if you've never played the game before (like me). If you spend some more time obsessing over the weird artifacts of the Apple II hi-res graphics, you might even go down the rabbit hole of realizing that on the Apple II you didn't really paint colors as much as you used different monochrome dithering patterns that the graphics display would then turn into 4 different hues. A fascinating learning experience if you include some of your own research online!

Add to this the Commodore 64 and the Atari 8-bit versions to compare how the graphics got adapted across the earlier ports and you have a nice way to relieve the mid-80s with a bit of help from modern emulation (I did beat the C64 version without rewinding though!). I'd love to see more art from the other remakes, especially the 16-bit Atari ST port, but I understand their decision to omit playable versions of those due to the lower quality on the gameplay side of the translations.

This brings us to the final part of the package, the modern remaster. Unlike the 2012 complete reimagining of the game (with 3D graphics and all), Digital Eclipse approached the remake as the ultimate port of the original to an imaginary system along the lines of a 90s VGA PC.

It's well done. Some of the fully-redrawn scenes are a bit overpainted for my taste (I'd prefer a pixel art rendition of the castle than a blurry photographic collage, although there were many games in the 90s that did take this approach), but the in-game graphics are really in style, including the smooth animations that are like one would imagine granted a beefier CPU. It's also a sort of director's cut with previously unseen scenes added, in particular, the battle with the leopard as a clever action-puzzle in the middle. The AI is unfortunately even less challenging than Jordan's implementation. As great as the 6-move fighting system could have been, you yet again resort to simply kicking away opponents as they tirelessly crawl into your range. There isn't even the nuance from the original where you were the one who had to approach some enemies with skilled timing. On the other hand, you now have optional goals and achievements that make the repetitive/easy combat work in your favor (stringing various combos, beating opponents or the level under a time limit …). As the Digital Eclipse president Mike Mika admits at the end of the welcome commentary mode, they didn't manage to achieve their perfect port, but they did come close.

In conclusion, I thoroughly enjoyed playing both the original as well as the remake and while the combat system lacks any sort of depth beneath its stunning animations, Karateka is instead a monumental experience for its presentation. Big characters with personality and realistic motion are displayed through cinematic camera cuts and story vignettes (3 years before Ron Gilbert came up with the word "cutscene"). There are details like animating the unfortunate falling off the cliff at the start of the game, or respectfully bowing to the first guard as they bow in return. Jordan's creative work is precious and worth the attention this release gifts it.

I highly recommend The Making of Karateka to all retro gamers and/or game developers for its immersive documentation which provides an experience that goes beyond the usual video documentaries. It's interactive—just like the subject it's talking about—something I want to see more in the future. And if the $20 by any chance seems high to you, consider that the original retailed at $35 (and that was in 1984 dollars).

[cyanocoraxx]

your centipedes are so cool, ive been wondering about how to start! do you have any resources/tips?

of course! bear with me here because there's a lot to go through

if you're going all out and want to get it perfect, you need: a plastic tub with a locking lid (ideally), a drill for making ventilation holes, tongs for feeding/maintenance, a water bowl, peat or topsoil, sand, gravel, and some bark for hides and decoration.

-- SPECIES --

"beginner" species: scolopendra polymorpha (#1 recommendation), scolopendra cingulata, scolopendra morsitans & ethmostigmus trigonpododus. these guys are relatively inexpensive, usually pretty docile, easy to care for, easy to find & have milder venom than the larger species! however, you can obviously keep any species you want and it's your choice. just do plenty of research first. as cute as they are, many of the other species are extremely venomous and lightning-fast and deserve respect. it won't help either of you if you buy a pede that terrifies you to care for. ):

⚠︎ venom ⚠︎: several scolopendra species are extremely venomous, including subspinipes, sp. malaysian tiger, and dehaani. and you do decide to go for one of the spicier land dragons you need to fully understand the responsibility it entails. an escaped centipede can harm not just you, but your other pets and family members. you need to be sure you can handle the risk not just to yourself but others. please thoroughly research bite reports of the species you're looking for before buying so you know what you're getting in to. <3 also invest in some tongs for general maintenance. don't go putting your hands in willy nilly or you get the bitey witey ....

-- SETUP --

enclosure: expect a true escape artist. centipedes cannot climb smooth surfaces like glass or plastic but they CAN push themselves up against the surface to their fully stretched body length and if they can reach the lid it's game over. they can also grip on to ventilation holes and push off of enclosure decor. you would need a plastic enclosure that is taller than your pede and substrate combined. i currently use these tubs for my larger pedes as they have locking lids with very small gaps around the edges.

above are my setups for astraeus and choso! they have ventilation around all sides. i also have velcro straps securing the lids as double protection just because I got paranoid when I first put them in their new enclosures, but now I keep them on anyway because I feel better that way sbdhnfjm

ventilation: cross-ventilation is ESSENTIAL. there's a lot of misinfo online about this. a centipede needs ample ventilation at the bottom of their enclosure on all sides to prevent stagnant air and gas buildup so you would need to drill a few rows of ventilation holes. also make sure they're not big enough for a smaller pede to squeeze out of, because they can and will if they can fit!

⚠︎ MYCOSIS ⚠︎ is a thing. it's essentially a fungal infection that centipedes can get in damp, stagnant conditions, and it starts out as black spots typically on the legs and antennae. keeping a pede too wet with little or no ventilation just spells out disaster. don't be tempted to over-spray a pede's enclosure. if a pede does get mycosis, it can molt of out it if its enclosure is allowed to dry out more.

HOWEVER! the more ventilation you add and the less you spray, the higher the risk of desiccation (drying out). this is where it gets a little tricky. there needs to be a balance between the setup being too wet and too dry. best way to combat this is to keep one side damp and the other dry whilst providing a water dish. this way the pede can choose if it wants to be damp or dry.

above is astraeus modelling the substrate in their enclosure. they have a mix of sedge peat, desert sand, and gravel. they're leaned up against their fav piece of cork bark here too, where they spend the entire day before coming out at night.

substrate: this depends on the species you pick, but most pedes do well on a mixture of peat/topsoil and sand. mix gravel in as well as they like to move it around. the internet says to use coco fiber. DON'T!!!! pedes ingest some substrate when they eat their food and the fibers from coco coir will cause impaction and death.

-- DIET --

food: live prey includes gut-loaded crickets, locusts, superworms, and roaches. centipedes reach their maximum sizes most often when fed a varied diet. you can include raw meats (no fat!), shrimp, low-copper cat food and even fruits from time to time. most pedes aren't too picky and will eat whatever they can get their forcipules in to :P akaza above eating a prawn for tax/proof!

centipedes are opportunistic. they can eat large prey items and then go a long time without eating. every week is fine for an adult.

be sure to remove uneaten food to prevent the build up of gases and bacteria. springtails in the enclosure can help to minimize waste that is missed.

i think that covers it. maybe. i hope ASDFG

TOO LONG DIDN'T READ VERSION:

mix of peat/topsoil and sand

no coco fiber.

one side damp one side dry

water dish

wood for hides/decoration

tongs for feeding/maintenance

varied diet

cross-ventilation

most importantly, have fun. <3

(p.s. big thank you to the people of the chipotle centipede server for all their help and info as well, without them I wouldn't know half of this.)

[mikhailosanlove]

Sugar

Gallavich Kinktober 2024 @gallavichthings

Situational Prompt:

34. Public

Dialogue Prompts:

28. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”

33. “Suck on my fingers.”

25. “Look how good you take it”

Summary

Mickey and Ian met online and an arrangement of sorts has developed. Ian, who is rich, likes taking care of Mickey, buying him stuff and showing him off…..And Mickey, well Micky is very much OK with that. No other plot to speak of…...

AO3:

Sugar

Mickey wakes up alone, wrapped up in the soft and smooth sheets of Ian's huge bed.

Ian is the extremely hot, red headed adonis that Mickey has been seeing lately. His sugar daddy? Maybe. Mickey laughs to himself at the thought. Surely not? But Ian IS rich as fuck and he HAS really taken a shine to Mickey, might even be a little obsessed.

Mickey is fine with it. He’s making good bank hanging around with Ian.

Part of the deal seems to be that Ian literally puts large sums of money into Mickey's bank account. He “gifts" him money. Actual money. He also buys him lots of other gifts and gets him new clothes all the time (clothes that Mickey would never usually choose but he must admit, make him look pretty good), and lets him order all the room service he could ever want when they stay at hotels.

So yeah, whatever the deal is with Ian, it’s a good thing for Mickey.

Plus, Ian is hot as fuck. And he knows how to fuck. Jesus Christ, he knows how to fuck. He has a big fucking dick and he knows exactly what to do with it. Can make Mickey whine just thinking about that cock.

They met online a while back and had texted back and forth for nearly a month, flirting and swapping dirty pictures. Ian made it very clear, very early on that he was mesmerized by Mickey. That there was something about him that Ian just had to have. He started with the gifts soon after that and Mickey realised that Ian got a kick out of it. It turned Ian on to give stuff to Mickey. To reward him.

Ian started asking Mickey for more specific pictures, particular poses, certain props and stuff like that. Then he moved on to video requests. He would leave little requests for Mickey or little tasks that he wanted him to accomplish within the pictures and videos. Sometimes the requests were extremely fucking precise. Ian knew what he liked and he liked telling Mickey exactly what to do and how to do it and then he liked praising him afterwards. He liked telling Mickey he was a good boy and shit like that.

Mickey would have done it all for free to be honest. It wasn’t the kind of thing he thought he would have been into before - but with Ian he found it fucking hot. Mickey had found that he was really getting off on all the kinky shit that Ian wanted him to do. He liked pleasing Ian. He liked getting the praise. And the rewards weren't bad either...

So, by the time they finally met in person, the dynamic had been established and Mickey was fully on board with the little arrangement. And by the time he saw Ian up close and in person, (videos and pictures had nothing on the real thing) he was into the whole thing. Hook. Line. And sinker.

The first time they fucked was one of the most mind-blowing sexual encounters Mickey had ever experienced. Ian's deep voice telling him what to do, praising him when he complied and his hot, strong body moving Mickey wherever he wanted him. And that cock. Jesus that cock.

Anyway, from that point onwards Mickey was hooked and it continued like that. Ian called the shots. All the shots.

Ian liked Mickey to be available on demand. Sometimes Ian would text Mickey a time and place to meet, often with some instructions of what Mickey should wear or some other expectation he had. Other times a car would show up without warning and Mickey would be expected to go to Ian whenever he called for him.

Sometimes Ian would be in the car waiting for Mickey, ready to devour him as soon as he got in, totally indifferent to the presence of the driver or any other staff that might be there. Other times, Mickey would be picked up and there would be no sign of Ian for a while. Mickey would be brought somewhere, accompanied by some of Ian's staff while he waited, sometimes for hours, for Ian to be ready for him.

Mickey knew that Ian was very busy with his work. He didn't quite know exactly what Ian did or what kind of business he was involved in. Ian always gave vague answers to those types of questions. He would give out answers such as "imports/exports" or "investments". Whatever kind of business he was involved in, he was making a lot of money and he was very busy. Oh and another thing was very clear, Ian was definitely the boss.

Mickey rolled over in the expensive sheets and looked around the large room within the penthouse. Huge floor to ceiling windows displayed a stunning view over the Chicago skyline. Ian was so fucking loaded.

Mickey got up and went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and then he saw the note.

Morning baby.

You looked so good in bed, I didn't want to wake you.

Come to my office when you wake up,

I'm working but we can eat breakfast together.

Don't get dressed. Stay in your briefs. And wear the new robe.

xxx

Mmmm Mickey thought to himself, he was hungry and breakfast with Ian sounded good. He picked up the smooth, black, silk robe that Ian had given him the night before with his initials embroidered in gold, and slid it round his shoulders. It felt good. He felt good. He made his way to Ian’s office.

“Morning baby”, Ian called to Mickey from his huge dark oak desk as Mickey entered the office. Even from across the vast room, Mickey could make out Ian’s eyes turning dark at the sight of him, his mouth opening, his tongue wetting his lips. Their eyes locked and the electricity between them was palpable.

Mickey dropped his eyes after a beat and looked around the room, a little surprised to find it buzzing with activity. There were a few members of Ian’s staff around the big meeting table in the middle of the room, a few others hovering around Ian’s desk.

Ian’s staff were mostly all men, young men. Mickey recognised a few of them. One was the guy who always brought Mickey his fresh laundry, one was the one who cooked Ian’s food and designed his eating plan, and one was Ian’s assistant who often made Mickey’s travel arrangements or booked the hotels - he was now standing close to Ian, holding out a stack of documents for Ian to sign. Others were guys Mickey knew worked with Ian on business, whatever that involved.

“Morning” Mickey greeted nobody in particular and gave a little half wave around the room, receiving various nods in response. He suddenly felt very aware of himself and a little shy in his attire, pulling the robe tighter around his body. All the staff were in their normal day clothes, and here was Mickey, just in his underwear. Ian was already dressed in a fucking suit for Christ's sake.

“Come” Ian gestured for Mickey to come over to him and then patted his knee for him to sit on his lap and just like that Mickey forgot some of his self consciousness. Mickey licked his lips and smirked at Ian. Ian looked fucking hot in his stylish and expensive suit, looking all important and busy. He sat down on Ian's lap and snaked his arms around his neck.

“Hi” he said with another smile and planted a kiss on Ian's lips as he felt Ian’s big arms around his waist. Mickey knew that Ian liked this kind of thing. Mickey sitting on his lap and stuff like that and Mickey played up to it.

“You sleep ok?” Ian asked as he brushed some of Mickey's fly away hair from his forehead.

“Like a baby”

“I'm happy,” Ian grinned, “I like seeing you satisfied ”

With his eyes firmly on Mickey and never leaving, Ian picked up his near empty coffee cup from his desk and held it out while a staff member rushed over to refill it.

“And for you, Mr Milkovich?” The staff member looked at Mickey.

“Yes,” Ian answered for him, his eyes still stalking Mickey, “Mr Milkovich will have a black coffee with two sugars. But make it iced. It's hot today.”

Mmm OK. Iced coffee did sound pretty good right now. It was pretty hot.

Mickey fidgeted around on Ian's lap. Sure it was OK doing this for foreplay or whatever, but it wasn't exactly the most comfortable position.

“And to eat Mr Gallagher?”

Ian continued to stare hungrily at Mickey, never moving his eyes as he spoke to his staff, "Emmmm we will have pancakes I think. Mickey here likes pancakes. So bring a lot. And get the syrup. A lot of syrup. Anything else you fancy Mikhailo?"

Mikhailo? That was new.

"Sausage '' Mickey said suggestively as he stroked the back of Ian's neck and wriggled his eyebrows, already looking forward to finishing up this breakfast and getting Ian back to the privacy of the bedroom. Hopefully Ian would be able to get away from his work for a bit.

“Bring sausage” Ian called to his staff as he placed his hand on Mickey's bare thigh under the robe and rubbed softly up and down. “A lot of sausage”

Ian removed his hand from Mickey's thigh momentarily and reached for his coffee cup and took a sip. The coffee smelt good and Mickey wanted some too, didn't want to wait for the iced one Ian had coming for him. He playfully went to take Ian's cup from his hand and tried to take a drink.

"Ah ah" Ian said, waving his finger back and forth, "Not yet."

Hmmm. Ok then. Ian must have something in mind.

"I had a lot of fun last night." Ian said after setting his coffee back down on the table to a slightly perplexed and curious Mickey.

"I loved seeing the way you were so uninhibited" Ian's voice was low and it was stirring memories for Mickey of the night before, being held down by Ian. He felt his cock twitch ever so slightly and his legs fell open a little wider on Ians lap.

Ian placed his hand back on Mickey's thigh and they both watched as it traveled higher and higher up, caressing from outer to inner thigh and allowing the robe to fall to the sides exposing Mickey's thick milky white thighs.

Mickey caught his bottom lip in his teeth as Ian began pushing the legs of his boxers right up so that they were bunched up to the curve where his thighs met his ass cheeks and his thighs were fully on show. Mickey's cock was starting to get hard.

With one hand still caressing Mickey’s upper thighs, Ian curved his other hand around Mickey's waist and slipped it through the opening of the silk robe until it landed firmly on his hip, roaming up to his stomach and back down to his thighs.

Ian was caressing Mickey with such intent, all the time staring at him like he was his prey. His prize. Mickey could feel Ians cock hardening under his suit pants, firm against his ass and couldn't help but develop his own hard on at Ian’s touch. He was powerless around Ian. His touch was so powerful that every time Mickey felt it, he melted. Ian was so fucking hot and Mickey just could not get over being looked at and touched up in this way. The electricity he felt at Ians touch was scorching.

Ian's two hands continued to roam Mickey's body excessively. Over this stomach, his hips, his sides, back down to his thighs. Meanwhile Mickey melted further into Ian, leaning back into his chest while his breath got heavier.

Mickey looked down and watched as Ian’s two hands met over Mickey’s waist and slowly untied the belt of his silky black robe, letting it fall open completely exposing Mickey's body and his erection filled boxer briefs.

Mickey's initial instinct was to grab some of the robe to re-cover himself while looking around the room, remembering his surroundings and slightly snapping out of whatever trance he was quickly falling into with Ians touch. But Ian’s firm hands batted him away and allowed the robe to fall wide open so his hands could continue their exploration of the expanse of his body. His hands traveled further up to his chest and his neck, getting firmer as they went, grabbing whatever part of Mickey’s body they could.

Ian’s hands came back down to Mickey's pecks, where they began to grab and squeeze and pull at the skin. Ians fingers started to pinch his nipples, rubbing and rolling them, sending shivers over Mickey's body. His breath hitched further and he turned to see the smirk on Ians face.

Right then, the staff member/waiter approached Ian’s desk and came around to Ian’s chair where Mickey was splayed over his lap. A large glass full of ice and sweet coffee on a tray. Mickey was immediately embarrassed, his fucking boner was clearly visible through his boxers, his legs wide open and he was half naked for fucks sake with Ian groping his tits and pulling at his nipples.

Mickey moveed to straighten himself up on instinct but Ians firm arms locked him in place. And Ian didn’t falter, didn't move his hands from where they were, grabbing at Mickey's tits, nipples between his fingers. Instead, he looked directly up at the staff member, tells him to put the coffee on the desk and said thank you, while pinching Mickey's nipples even harder. More shocks and shivers radiate through Mickey's body and a little whine escapes his mouth. Jesus.

The waiter glanced down at Mickey, his eyes travelling up and down his exposed body before he nodded and walked away. Fuck. Ian didn’t seem to care who was looking at them, seemed to be getting a kick out of showing Mickey off, and making his staff embarrassed. Mickey looked around the room to the other staff who seemed to be mostly continuing on with their work, looking at their phones or laptops, seemingly used to looking the other way while Ian indulged himself.

Mickey decided he needs a drink of the coffee and reaches over to grab it but instead, Ian takes the glass and holds the straw up to Mickey's mouth for him to drink. The ice cold sweet coffee is refreshing and Mickey takes a gulp before smiling at Ian and turning his head to meet his lips. Ians tongue immediately licks inside Mickey's mouth and they kiss, sharing the cool sensation and tasting the coffee. As Ian continues to lick and suck at Mickey's mouth, he dips his fingers into the glass and pulls out an ice cube.

“Open your mouth for me, baby.” Ian says as he breaks the kiss. Mickey does what hes told and opens his mouth, his head rolling back on Ians shoulder and his eye lids hooded. Ians two fingers with the ice cube between them, slowly enter Mickey's mouth and push the ice cube around. “Suck on my fingers.” Ian commands as he pushes his fingers right to the back of Mickey's icy wet mouth. In and out, in and out as Mickey sucks.

Ian suddenly and a bit roughly pulls his fingers from Mickey's mouth and goes back to the glass of coffee for another one. This time, he brings it straight to Mickey's left nipple, lets the ice circle it and smirks as the nipple immediately stands erect and another shiver passes through Mickey's body. The ice cube travels over the right nipple circling there before tracing down Mickey's chest.

Mickey looks down at his own body, watches Ian’s hand move the ice, sees the glistening wet trail it's leaving behind, sees the sharp rise and fall of his chest and looks down to a wet patch of a different kind on his boxers. His dick is throbbing under his boxers. He thinks about covering himself again, but he's too far into this trance with Ian and he's powerless now, along for the ride. Ian will do what he wants with Mickey's body.

The second ice cube has almost melted and Ian leaves it to slide down Mickey's body as his fingers go back to the coffee glass for another. “We're gonna need another iced coffee” Ian says loudly to nobody in particular, without looking up. Mickey is aware of some movement among the staff in the room, moving to meet the demand.

Ian’s hands go straight to Mickey's crotch now. One hand pushing his legs open even further and the other bringing the ice to circle the tip of Mickey's leaking dick through his boxers, causing the existing wet patch there to expand. Holy fuck. Mickey's dick feels like it's going to explode. He involuntarily humps upwards chasing Ians touch, forgetting everything, craving, needing Ians touch.

Ian’s other hand starts to move lower, comes under Mickey's leg. Starts to peel back his boxers slightly. Under his ass. Mickey's hips move, start to circle, gently grinding down on Ian’s huge cock. The ice cube is now being trailed up and down Mickeys hard shaft by Ian’s right hand and he can feel the fingers of Ians left hand under his ass, creeping in through the peeled back boxers. Before he knows it, there's a finger there circling the rim of his asshole. Jesus fucking christ. Mickey is panting heavily now. His limbs are loose and he's practically sprawled over Ian, Ians strong arms still holding him in place. He feels Ian’s breath on his neck, a strong tongue licking up the column of his throat.

Suddenly Ian's right hand has passed the piece of ice to his left hand under his ass and now the ice cube is at the rim of his hole, circling there, through the pulled aside boxers while Ian sucks on his neck. Mickey barely registers the additional figure above them now, standing there with the second glass of iced coffee. It's hard for mIckey to focus on anything other than the sensations on his body, the ice at his asshole, the sucking on his neck, the tingling parts of his exposed body where the air is meeting the cool trail left by the ice, his nipples still hard and pointy.

“On the desk” Ian has pulled his mouth off Mickey's neck to give the order to his staff on where to put the coffee. As the waiter leans in to put the glass in front of Mickey, Ian pulls the boxers over to the side even more, exposing Mickey's hole and pushes the ice cube inside him. A full groan leaves Mickey's mouth as Ians fingers continue to push.

Mickey cant control his hips anymore. He's bucking up in the air and pushing back on Ians fingers, can hardly bear the feeling of the ice inside him and wants more at the same time. Next thing, Mickey hears a low growl from Ian and before he knows it Ians hands are pulling at his boxers, peeling them down his legs. Ian isn't actually going to take off Mickey's boxers right here in this office in front of these staff members is he?

“Off” Ian demands. OK, he is. This is happening. Ian maneuvers Mickey's body until the boxers are down at his feet and now Ian is reaching for his desk drawer and grabbing a bottle of lube and coating his fingers. He is back at the asshole, one finger inside touching the piece of ice in there, moving it around. Suddenly Ian pulls at Mickey's legs, pulls them up so his knees bend and his feet land on Ians thighs. He reclines further on the chair and moves his hand under Mickey's ass to pull his cheeks apart.

Mickey is absolutely fully exposed now. Everyone in the room is aware of what they are doing. And anyone who wanted to could see directly into Mickey's ass hole. Mickey doesn't bother to check who is watching. It half excites him, half terrifies him but he is in this deep already and now all he can think about is the electrifying feeling of Ian’s hands on him and the fingers pushing further into his hole.

Ians other hand moves back to his dick, holding the shaft firmly and stroking up and down, thumbing the slit. Mickey is panting loudly, his eyes rolling in his head and his hips moving around wildly. He can't believe this is happening.

“Look how good you take it” Ian whispers in Mickey's ear. “I'm proud of you”

Ians fingers in his ass are starting to pump faster and faster now, Mickey doesnt know how many are in there.

“OK enough. I need fuck you.”

Before he knows it, Mickys feet are back on the ground and he is being pushed forward, bent over Ians desk, strong hands holding him down.

He loves the feeling of the cool glass surface of the desk on his red hot cheek but the fingers are gone from his ass. Mickey is wild with want now, and needs something back in there.

He hears Ian’s zipper come down and feels the robe being shoved up over his ass and his ass cheeks being spread apart. Ok, he is about to get fucked right here in front of an audience. He briefly considers looking up, seeing exactly who is watching but then he feels Ian’s cock at his hole and he braces himself for what he wants.

Ian pushes in and Mickey is in heaven, its stretches and burns so fucking good and he is so turned on right now and so fucking full.

Ian starts to pound relentlessly. Working himself up to an almost frenzie.“So fucking good Mickey” his voice is fucking animalistic and he continues to talk as he fucks into him harder and deeper and faster. “I like fucking you whenever I want” “I like fucking your ass right here with my staff watching” “Everybody saw that amazing ass, saw how much you liked me fingering that asshole” “You look so good getting fucked here on my work desk.” “You look so good getting fucked while people are watching”, “So fucking good Mickey.”

Mickey cant hold on when he hears Ian talk like that as hes fucking him so good and so hard. He feels Ian’s hand back on his dick and almost immediately knows he's going to blow his load. Ian knows it too. He moves his other hand to grab at Mickey’s neck now, grabbing at his shoulders, pulling him up to a standing position, his left arm on his chest holding him up, his right arm pumping his dick furiously, holding him up on display as he pounds him from behind.

Mickey's whole body goes into spasm as he blows his load, feels like lightning shooting from his core as white streaks shoot out of his dick and spray across the desk in front of him. He tries to open his eyes but there is nothing but white, blurred vision. Ian thrusts hard one last time and grunts as he comes deep in Mickey's ass as Mickey just pants, floats, swims, sways, breathes.

A few minutes pass and Mickey is not sure what's happening in those moments. He feels Ian pulling out of his ass. Feels his come dripping out of his hole. Feels something wet and warm cleaning him. And then he's sitting on Ians office chair and Ian is pulling his boxers back up and wrapping him back up in his robe.

“I think we are ready for our pancakes now” Ian is calling to his staff. “And can someone come to clean this desk please?”

Ian bends down and gives Mickey a wet kiss, sucks his bottom lip a little and strokes his cheek. “You are fucking amazing Mickey”.

Mickey then looks around the room, properly looks. The staff are all returning to their tasks as if nothing ever happened. Ian hands Mickey his coffee with a smile and Mickey gulps it down. Gets his breath back. Thinks he's going to enjoy these pancakes now. He can hardly believe that just happened. But Jesus fuck it was hot.