#chew on the cord too

[kimtranssexler]

I need to find someone who’s into being bit. It’s not a sex thing for me I just really wanna chomp down on someone’s juicy arm I need to experience that sensory feeling

[thanks-obillma]

watched nerdy prudes must die and this happened

[hylianengineer]

Fighting internalized ableism by finally buying myself chewelry. I've wanted to for ages but the COVID-induced germophobia was an obstacle. However, I'm catching myself chewing on myself lately which isn't any better on that front and is worse on others, so. Chewelry it is.

[waywardlampcookieturkey]

the green scratchy part on the sponge for cleaning the dishes, I don't know what it's called. Usually the ones that were just a thin square sold separately from the actual sponge part

INGESTED not just chewed on to clarify lol. based on real responses from my groupchat

[yeonzzzn]

Jake (your roommate) who has oral fixation who can't help but want to suck on your nipples and clit anytime and anywhere he wants (in school, in his car, in cafes, in your dorm). And as the helpful roommate, you try to wear clothes that would give him easy access all the time.

-🪻 hiiii i misseddd putting req here 🥹🫶

hi again🪻anon🥰 i’ve missed your reqs🥹🫶🏻 oral fixation jake has me weeeaaaaakkkk😮‍💨 I kinda went off the deep end with this one. I couldn’t help myself. this request is so *chefs kiss* and bless kay for helping me with the title for this 🤭😘💍

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taste of you: sim jaeyun

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 2.9k

For as long as you’ve known your roommate, he’s always had an oral fixation even before he became your roommate too. 

You and Jake attended the same college. You would always pass him in the hallways on Mondays and Wednesdays and have Chemistry with him on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Man always had something in his mouth to chew on. 

Gum, the ends of his pens and pencils, the bottle cap to his water bottle, straws from his drinks, the plastic spoons, knives, and forks from lunch, the strings to his hoodie, the plastic on his cup if he didn’t have a straw, and hell, even his fingers if there wasn’t anything else. You could tell just from staring at him across the lecture hall that he had this fixation. 

Fate brought the two of you together when you posted an ad on the campus bulletin board about looking for a roommate after your old one moved out. Jake was the first to respond to the ad, and since you already knew him, you disregarded the other applications. Jake was moved in within a week. 

His oral fixation was a lot worse than you thought and was tame while on campus. Jake had the same normal habits on the things he chewed but added a few things: his shirt while sitting on the couch watching TV or playing on the PlayStation. The cord to his headset when he played on his PC in his bedroom. The cord to his phone while it charged and he was scrolling through social media. Your fingers, lips, tongue, nipples, and clit. 

Crazy, right? It didn’t start that way, his mouth on your body parts. It wasn’t a thought in either of your minds until you came home one afternoon after work and took a shower, not bothering to put a bra on afterward, letting the girls have some time to breathe. So you walked around in your shorts and oversized tee shirt. Jake returned home a couple of hours later from soccer practice, wanting nothing more than a nice shower and a good meal. So you told him to shower and that you’d cook for him. Jake couldn’t hide the smile had, being so happy and lucky you were his roommate. 

Jake didn’t even notice you weren’t wearing a bra until you stood from where you sat on the couch, your nipples poking through your white shirt. The hoodie string Jake had in his mouth fell out as his eyes were glued to your chest, watching how grazed your shirt as you walked around the couch and towards the kitchen. Jake quickly jumped up and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. Splashing his face with the water of his shower, trying to push the thoughts of your perfect nipples being in his mouth. The way he would bite, lick, and suck on them. 

Jake had to lean his body against the cool of the tile wall to get his body temperature down but failed miserably as his thoughts continued to run in his brain. Thinking about the ways your cunt would ride his cock as his mouth worked on your tits. Before Jake knew it his hand was wrapped around his hard cock, biting his lips to keep from moaning as he pumped himself til his cum was dripping down his hand. Jake prayed and prayed that once he was out of the shower you could have put on a bra. Because it’s an asshole move to think about your roommate like that, right? It crosses your boundaries and that’s the last thing Jake wanted to do. 

But to his dismay, you still stood in the kitchen…braless. Once you noticed he was out of the shower, you called him over, “Jae, I made pasta for dinner and this cake for dessert. Come try the icing and tell me what you think?” 

Jake swallowed, knees weak as he slowly walked over to you. Your long hair was now pulled into a loose ponytail and oh man was it driving Jake up a wall. His eyes wandered everywhere, to your nipples, your earlobes, and the cute spot between your shoulder and neck. His mouth watered as he looked back and forth, wanting to pin you to the kitchen counter and place his mouth all over those parts. His dick was hardening and he was doing everything to try and keep you from noticing. 

You got a spoon from the drawer and scooped up some of the icing and held it to his mouth, “Say ahh!” you said cutely, taking notice of the small pink tint on his cheeks as he slowly opened his mouth taking the spoon in. 

Jake’s eyes widened as you pulled the spoon away, “Goddamn, YN, this is fantastic!” Jake loved your cooking and baking. It made him even more excited to eat the pasta and have a dessert to look forward to. 

You noticed some of the icing was on the edge of his lips, you giggled softly and reached up, “You’re so messy,” you teased him, taking your index finger and sliding it across the edge of his lip. 

The moment you touched him it was over. The feeling of your finger on his lips even if it was just the slightest touch sent him into a frenzy, his mouth was opening, head tilting to the side to wrap his lips around your finger, his tongue licking up the icing you wiped away and then sucking on it. His eyes closed tightly as he softly grazed your finger with his teeth. Jake didn’t know what came over him, but the moment he realized what he was doing his eyes shot back open and connected to yours. 

You weren’t surprised and showed no sign that it bothered you that he was currently sucking on your finger. Instead, you gave him a small smile, inching your middle finger to his lips. Jake was the surprised one but opened his mouth anyway, letting you slip your middle in with your index. 

You always teased Jake about his oral fixation, always giving him some type of hell for chewing up specific things. Like the amount of phone chargers you’ve had to rebuy him, and the amount of headsets Jake had to get replaced from chewing on the cords. The amount of gum packets that lay around the apartment just for him. You found it cute to tease him. And you never knew you wanted your fingers in his mouth until right now. Which is why it didn’t bother you. Honestly, your fingers were better than the cords and other plastic things that would eventually ruin his pretty teeth anyway. 

You’d be lying if it didn’t turn you on. Jake was hoping for it, truly. Keeping eye contact with you as he wraps his tongue around your fingers, sucking on them and biting them softly. If you continued to let him chew on your fingers, he was going to lose all control. 

“I know you want to do more than just suck on my fingers,” you whispered to him. You already knew he was hard as a rock and your panties were soaking, “Why don’t you take what you actually want?” 

Jake didn’t hesitate to pull your fingers from his mouth, his lips attaching to yours and sucking on your bottom lip as his hands slid to your thighs, picked you up, and set you down on the countertop, biting hard on your lip, “Give me your tongue,” he hisses between his grip on your lip and only let go once he saw the muscle slide out of your mouth and taking it in his. Jake was in pure bliss getting his oral fixation off on something other than random small items. His cock twitched hard at it too. It was everything he could have wanted. 

As he continued to suck and bite your tongue, his hands slipped under your shirt and slid up, his hands stopping at your tits to rub at your nipples, making them perk up more. You knew Jake was preparing them for his mouth, his skin sending a chill down your spine and goosebumps on your skin, hardening your nipples even more, “fffuuuccckkkk,” he hisses after releasing your tongue from his mouth, dipping down in the same movement of lifting your shirt over your breasts and attaching his mouth to your right nipple as his left hand continued to pinch at your other nipple. 

You moaned his name and gripped his shoulders as his tongue flicked your nipple, as his teeth bit down on the sensitive nub and lips wrapped around it to suck. He moved back and forth between the two, not leaving one out. You already knew your cunt was soaking the countertop and you think Jake knew too. Mostly by the way his hands moved to cup your ass and slide underneath you. He let out a groan against your nipple before removing his mouth and scooped you up, quickly turning in the other direction and laying you down on top of the kitchen table. He kissed you again, sucking your bottom lip back into his mouth in the same motion of his fingers looping between your shorts and panties to pull them down. 

Jake sank to his knees as your shorts and panties hit the floor, him spreading your legs wide to give him better access to your cunt. His mouth watered at the sight of your sopping pussy, your slit dripping out your hole and onto the table. Fuck it was making him dizzy. 

“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he breathes, sticking his tongue out to lick up your hole to your clit, stopping there to take the bud between his teeth and lips. Jake sucked, licked, and bit your clit until you came into his mouth. He didn’t even stop there, no no. He wanted you. Wanted his shower fantasy to come true. So he pulls you from the table and onto the floor with him, quickly removing his sweatpants and boxers and moving you into his lap. 

You rode him as his mouth worked on your nipples again, moving between them both and stopping every few minutes to kiss you and suck on your lips. You even shoved your fingers into his mouth a few times as you fucked him. This kept going until you came again and he was cumming deep into your pussy. 

It was safe to say you both would have a major mess to clean up in the kitchen. And even have to reheat the pasta. 

This was only the start of Jake using you to get his oral fixation in. You gave him full permission to use you as he pleases to get his fix. Jake would be stupid to turn it down. 

It benefited both of you, truly. You both had the benefits of this new agreement. He would get his oral fixation and other sexual needs met, you’d also get your sexual needs met on top of saving money from having to replace the items he’d normally chew on. 

The only terms were he could only have your fingers and lips in public, but could have everything else in the safe space of your shared apartment, or either of your cars, or if no one else was around. 

Again, Jake would be an idiot to turn it down. 

He forced you to move to the back of the classroom room with him so he could suck on your fingers during lectures without anyone noticing and anytime he wanted. 

You’d sit in his car with him during lunch or before his soccer practice so he could make out with you and get his mouth on your tits. 

Then at the apartment? He’d spread your legs. 

One of Jake’s requirements was you having to wear specific clothing for him to have easy access to while at the apartment. Loose tee shirts with no bra. Any type of shorts or sweatpants or skirts with no panties underneath. 

It truly was a dream come true for Jake. The best roommate he could ask for. This whole dynamic worked for the two of you. Both parties were getting pleasure and their needs met while maintaining a good friendship with each other. It was perfect. So completely perfect. 

Your favorite thing was when Jake would return home from his other classes or work and immediately sink down to his knees in front of you saying, “I need your cunt in my mouth right now,” or lifting your shirt off your body instantly and saying, “I need your tits against my tongue.” Or your personal favorite thing he’d say is, “I need you on my cock as I suck on those pretty tits of yours.” 

Again, so so so perfect. Yet…

…when it came to matters of your heart, you started to love him. You had your suspicions on whether you were actually gaining feelings or if it was just the sex and the way he’d work his mouth on your body that was making you confused. But your feelings became apparent and so clear to you when one day you lay on the couch, scrolling through TikTok to watch the latest trends when Jake stumbled into the living room. He had a hard time at practice that Saturday morning, beating himself up over not making the winning score during the practice match against another team. Jake slid himself under your arms and just laid his head against your chest and got himself comfy on top of you, making no moves to undress you to get his fix. “I just needed to be close to you right now,” was all he said as he snuggled his face into your breasts and slid his arms underneath you, squeezing you tightly to him. He wasn’t horny or anything, just genuinely wanted to be with you. It took everything to keep your heart from fluttering. From it completely busting out of your chest as he slowly fell asleep on top of you. You were done for. You loved him. 

And oh god did Jake fall so hard in love with you too. How could he not? You accepted his oral fixation and even let him get his fix by using your body. Yeah at first it was strictly to get his fix in, the sex just being a bonus, but the more time that passed, the more he fell. He would get so drunk of your scent as he worked his mouth and cock on and in your body. You became his every waking thought and not just in ways to get his oral fixation needs met. He wanted to spend time with you. Take you on dates. Show you off to his friends. Yeah, having a roommate who gave into his oral fixation was such a hard flex. But to call you his girlfriend who also gives into his oral fixation, was an even bigger hard flex. Jake knew he loved you when all he wanted was to be in your arms after his terrible practice that morning. 

It took a week later for him to confess. 

His cock was buried so deep in your cunt, his mouth biting and sucking on your ear lobe as you screamed out his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It was as good of a time as any, Jake thought, what better way to confess his love for you while being balls deep inside you?

“Be mine,” he moans into your ear, detaching his mouth from your lobe and lifting you up from the couch in a swift motion, rolling the two of you into a sitting position with you in his lap. Jake bites at your skin between your neck and shoulders, his hands shoving you down onto him to press his cock even further into your cunt, “be mine, please,” he says between each suck, kiss, and bite at your skin. 

You couldn’t believe you heard the words escape his mouth, not knowing if you heard him clearly or not, “What?” 

Jake released your skin with a pop, his hands moving to your tits, squeezing them together and giving them a lift up, licking your nipples then biting them softly, “I am in love with you, I can’t stand not actually getting to call you mine,” he sucks one nipple into his mouth, bucking his hips up into you, being so lost in the taste of you, “Be mine. Be my girlfriend.” 

Your fingers tangled into his hair as you bounced on his cock, throwing your head back, “Yes,” you moan, “Yes, Jae, yes. I love you too. I’m in love with you too.” 

Jake quickly switches the positions again, pressing your body against the coffee table by the couch, fucking into you with everything he had. He kissed you with so much love and want and need. Being so happy he could finally call you his. You finally being more than just his roommate/fuck buddy that gave into his oral fixation. 

He bites down on your bottom lip and pulls it as he comes undone, his hips snapping to a stop to press his cock against your cervix hard, his cum filling you whole. 

Jake releases your lip and smiles down at you, his eyes wandering to every part of your body he had his mouth on, loving the way his teeth marks look on you. On his girlfriend. Thank god you ended up being such a good roommate.

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— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity

[keferon]

It was his fault, his weakness that had made a chink in Vortex's perverbial armor. He was only human, with human needs like sleep, food, and water. So it was his fault that Vortex had revealed his true existence to Shockwave.

Vortex never had any issues killing his other pilots. With killing in general, actually. Firstaid had always assumed that if necessary, Vortex would let him die and go back to his old routine of chewing up pilots.

Sure, he'd (somehow??) befriended the murderous, haunted mech. And sure, they'd gotten… close. Firstaid had felt closer to the mech than he had to any human. Vortex understood him, the real him, the him that he couldn't show other humans. No, they wouldn't have accepted the real Firstaid. But Vortex did.

His heart had raced with excitement at each offered vertebrae, visera still hanging to the alien specimens. Vortex had slowed his dissections of the Quintessens so that every parting strand of muscle had left Firstaid exquisitely breathless, trembling in anticipation of what lay beneath. Vortex had somehow known and understood exactly what Firstaid had desired.

Their relationship, if you could call it that, had always seemed so one-sided. So Firstaid had always just assumed he was the one who needed Vortex, not the other way around.

Firstaid stumbled into the main hanger of the experimental wing. Shockwave's personal playground. He had to be keeping Vortex here, there wasn't anywhere else large enough for the mech. His body ached with bruises and he clutched at his left arm to apply pressure to a cut. The lights in the hanger flickered on, sensing his motion.

Vortex was standing on a platform with cables hooked into his frame. Some attached to the limbs, but most were attached to his and the cockpit where the primary processing power was located.

“Still in one piece.” Firstaid muttered as he ran to the metal stairs that went up to a catwalk. He'd gotten into better shape since he started “piloting” Vortex. He wasn't even panting by the time he'd reached the top. Vortex's cockpit was open, gaping like a screaming mouth. Once it had filled Firstaid with fear and trepidation. Now it gave him relief and anticipation.

Firstaid climbed into the cockpit and began unhooking some of the cables that had been hooked up inside the mech, kicking the discarded cords out past Vortex's visor.

“Come on. Wake up, Vortex. We gotta get out of here.” Firstaid wasn't sure where they would go yet, but they couldn't stay here. Shockwave was going to take Vortex apart. The mech was a “step along the path to the true symbiosis of man and machine” or something like that. Firstaid had been too horrified to pay that much attention, but he knew that Shockwave wanted to become a fully independent mech. The man was crazy, which was saying something coming from Firstaid.

Vortex's frame powered up with a rumble and the blood red visor closed with a hiss. Firstaid threw himself down into the pilot's seat, carefully not touching the controls. He did not want to piss off Vortex anymore than he already would be.

[Get out. Get out get out get out get-]

“Yes, we have to get out of here.” Firstaid's words trailed off as more words appeared on the screen.

[I did not expect you to interrupt us, Firstaid.]

“Us?”

[Get out get out get out get out-]

Vortex's frame shook and sparks rained down from above Firstaid. The controls shook as though fighting themselves. Vortex took a single, jerky step forward. It was nothing like the fluid motion that Firstaid had come to expect.

[Though this is a rather pleasant surprise. It would seem we still need a pilot to activate our systems. You'll do quite nicely, since Vortex is so interested in keeping you alive.]

[Get out get out get out-]

“Sh-Shockwave?!”

[Yes. Now, let's take this for a little test run, shall we?]

[Get out get out get out, Firstaid!]

godDAMN

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

What a Mess 4

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: thick!Bucky Barnes

Summary: Your new job isn’t all that you expect. (maid AU – short!reader)

Note: hate me, baby.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Bucky coughs. You hear him through the wall. Your earbuds are still in your pocket. The smell of coffee pervades the apartment. 

The door opens as you unload the dishwasher. He emerges with a cloud of steam from the shower, along with the smell of his soap. His hair is damp and messy, his beard shining with moisture as his eyelids slit. 

"Doll," he stops on the other side of the counter as you keep your attention on the dishes. You are aware that he was only a towel around his waist, that realisation making the plate clack loudly as you put it away. "Can ya close the curtains for me?" 

"Sure," you agree and leave the dishwasher open.  

He lumbers to the couch and sits. You glimpse him as you tug on the cords to draw the curtains. You quickly hide around the corner as you return to the kitchen. 

He groans as you try not to clink the porcelain too loudly. You feel bad for him. You can tell just by looking at him how much he hurts. You've always had a bleeding heart. 

You roll the rack back into the dishwasher and close the door. You grab your phone and chew your lip. He would probably prefer to be left alone. Still, you can't see how trying to help is bad. 

You approach him as the results load on your phone. You hover behind him as you scroll. His breath startles you as he heaves. 

"Need something?" He asks without looking back. 

"Erm," you wince and shuffle around the couch. You hold out your phone. He narrows his eyes at the screen and scowls. "For your head?" 

He watches the video and shrugs. The gesture catches your attention for a split second. His right arm is just as thick as the metal one, muscle taut and bulging. His chest looks softer under a mat of dark hair and his stomach overhangs the towel just a little. 

"Too much work," he grumbles and his eyebrows twitch with the effort it takes to speak. He touches his forehead and growls.  

You lower the phone, "sorry." 

"...unless," he drops his hand and looks at you, agony sewn into his expression. "You could..." he looks at your hands. "Doll?" 

You glance down at your hands, clutching your phone tighter. You watch the video of the 'scalp massage', fingers kneading into thick strands. You bring the screen closer.  

"I can try," you say at last. 

Your gaze meets his again and he nods. He bends forward and hangs his head. He grips the cushions as his hair falls over his face.  

You rewind the video and set the phone beside him so you can see it. You rub your palms together anxiously. You raise them and hesitate above his head. 

"Will you let me know if it hurts?" You ask. 

He laughs then groans. "Sure, doll." 

You touch his hair lightly then weave through his locks until you meet his scalp. You press your fingertips in and swirl them like the video. He grumbles again and you stop.  

"Keep going," he rasps. 

He leans into your touch. You firmly knead his head as you stare at his wet hair. A few strands of silver thread through the dark tangle. Another droning noise rises from him. 

His breath deepens enough for you to hear it. You move your hands around his head as he leans into you, more and more. You hope he feels better even as your anxiety peaks with his snarls. 

Is this okay? You probably shouldn't have done this. Even if he is in pain. You could be fired for unprofessional behaviour.  

As you curl your fingertips against his scalp, he moans. You yelp as suddenly he reaches to clamp down on your wrists. He stills you but doesn't shove you away. 

"I'm sorry," you squeak as he lifts his head. 

He keeps hold of you as he looks at you. His face is tense, jaw squared, eyes foggy, a vein coursing in his forehead. His grips tightens dangerously as you whimper. He looks... feral. 

"I'm sorry," you apologise again. 

He growls. Like an animal. He stands as his thumbs run up and down the insides of your wrists. You gape at him in horror. You're in trouble. 

You say sorry again and again and again as he walks you backwards. He turns you around the couch and continues around to the foot of the spiral staircase. You wriggle and whine as you as good as dangle from his grasp.  

He jars you suddenly, pulling you against him. He lets you go as you crash against his stomach. You shakily press your palms to him but can't get away. 

You look up at him, "Bucky," you quaver, "I'm sorry if I hurt you." 

"No," he breathes and grabs you by the waist, "I'm sorry if I hurt you." 

Before you can process his words, he hauls you up and over his shoulder. He turns to the stairs and hooks his arm around you to keep you steady. His other hand slides up the railing as climbs the steps. 

You squeak and lightly brush his back, "Bucky?" 

He doesn't stop. The ascent makes you even dizzier as you hang over his shoulder. You don't understand what's happening. What is he doing? 

He angles you through the hatch and up into the loft. That's against the rules too. You're not supposed to be up there. 

"Please, I'm sorry..." 

He carries you across the room and bends to put you down. He sits you on the foot of the bed and you quiver as he stands straight. His hands go to the front of the towel, slack around his hips. You peer up at him. 

"What did I do?" You eke out. 

He puffs through his nose and pulls the towel free. He bends and cradles your head. His nose touches yours and he snarls. He urges you back until you're flat and you tremble at his mercy. 

"Something," he growls. 

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 30] Graduation

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Fluff

*THIS IS IT thank you all so much for reading, this truly has been a journey and I couldn't have done it without your support. love you all so much🫂❤️

**Too lazy to put all the smut warnings, it's nothing too extreme just some face sitting and whatnot :p

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Are you ready to go?” Satoru asks, walking into your room to find you sitting in front of the vanity. You’re finishing up your makeup, putting the lash touch on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and he could faint right at this moment. He’s the luckiest man alive. He still has to rush you, “You can’t be late to your own graduation.”

“Is Anzu ready?” You question, and Satoru hums in response. He walks over to the bed and takes a seat to watch you.

“What? Do you not think I’m responsible enough? I can handle a baby.” Satoru says, as if you didn’t find your daughter nearly chewing an extension cord yesterday because he took his eyes off her for a second. You’re taking an awfully long time to answer the question which makes Satoru scoff, “She’s ready and with your mom.”

“Good.” You answer, turning your attention back to yourself yet again. Which type of earrings will be best? Satoru got you some beautiful diamond earrings for this occasion but you’re not sure you want to wear them– You don’t want to show off to everybody that your fiancé is filthy rich.

“Why don’t you put on the ones I got you?” Satoru sees that you’re struggling to pick the earrings you’ll wear for the night, so he’ll make a suggestion. You ignore him though, and he can’t help but laugh. He stands up, “I’ll go check on Ren while you finish up then.”

“Yeah, make sure he showered.” You tell him, and Satoru hums in response. He walks out of the room, getting ready to deal with the nine-year-old even though the child only seems to listen to you. The man feels like neither of his kids really listen to him, but he guesses he deserves it.

You smile back at yourself in the mirror, elated with how things go. Accepting Satoru’s breakfast offer as a date made your life change– You’d argue for the better, though some people didn’t want you and Satoru to get back together. It took you a while to officially start dating, since Satoru was married; even though you knew his marriage wasn’t authentic, you didn’t want to interfere with any of the mess that was going on.

Satoru began the divorce process with Sayo not too long after asking you out. It was a mutual decision that they kept hidden for as long as they possibly could. Even after their divorce was finalized, they refused to share the news with Sayo’s parents. You understood completely, knowing that it was a bigger issue than what it seemed. You had Satoru all to yourself either way, you didn’t really care what a random pair of old people thought. 

The truth came to light eventually, when you got pregnant with your baby girl. It ended Sayo’s relationship with her parents, but time has passed and she’s much happier without them. It was around two years ago, when Ren kept begging for a baby brother, and Satoru convinced you that it would be a great idea. You wanted another baby so there wasn’t the need for too much convincing either way. Unluckily for Ren, Anzu ended up being a baby girl. 

If you were given the chance to go back in time and change something, you’d keep everything the same. Maybe you would’ve kicked Satoru’s groin once or twice, but you’d do it all again. For Ren, for Anzu. For Satoru as well, though you wouldn’t admit it outloud.

“Ren isn’t ready!” Satoru yells, and you can’t help but chuckle as you roll your eyes. Your sweet baby boy is slowly becoming disobedient, and it’s a bit frustrating. You knew it was going to happen eventually, it’s just hard to believe that your baby boy is slowly setting off on his own adventure.

“Ren! Come here!” You yell, and within a matter of seconds your son comes running into your room. He doesn’t listen to Satoru, but you? He’ll listen to almost everything you have to say.

“What’s up?” He asks, and you look him over. You shake your head disappointedly, seeing that he’s still wearing pajamas.

“Do you want to stay home? Mrs. Gojo is more than happy to babysit.” Even when the woman is about to become your mother-in-law, you refuse to call her anything other than Mrs. Gojo. She’s the grandmother of your two kids, but you refuse to acknowledge her in any other way.

You barely have a relationship with her, for many reasons. Main one is that Satoru doesn’t really want to associate himself with her, not after everything that went down with Ren. Frankly, the only reason he even speaks to her is because Ren adores her– Though you believe that his opinion about his grandma is slowly changing because Ren quickly shakes his head.

“We’re going to her home later anyway, you can stand behind.” You assure him, but he shakes his head before darting out of the room. You almost laugh before yelling, “Make sure you don’t stink!”

“There she is!” You hear Satoru yell, and you turn around to find him with your little family. Your one-year-old squeals at the sight of her mother, while Ren glares at the baby for stealing his spotlight. You walk over to them, taking your baby Anzu into your arms before leaning down to kiss Ren’s forehead. 

“Did you have fun there, Ren?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. He’s not going to have much fun watching a bunch of people that he doesn’t know walk across a stage. Satoru didn’t even give the child his phone. 

“Ignore him, he’s been whining all day long. Where’s my kiss?” Satoru quickly changes the topic and you roll your eyes before pecking his lips. He tries to hug you without squashing the baby, saying, “Congratulations, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Satoru.” You respond, pecking his lips once again. You notice a couple of missing people from your group, and you question, “Where’s my mom? And Sayo and Shoko? Their little guy?”

“Bathroom.” Ren answers, and you raise your brows. All of them? You can’t exactly blame them, the ceremony was a long one.

“How about we–” You begin but you notice that your little guy is pouty. You know the reason immediately, so you hand Satoru your baby girl and crouch down to bring the child into a hug. “Am I not getting congratulations from the person that I care about the most?”

“Anzu can’t talk yet.” He answers, which almost makes you laugh. Almost. He’s so jealous of his baby sister, which is kind of ironic considering he begged you to have a baby. His attitude certainly changed when he realized that the baby requires a lot of time and attention.

“Ren, you’re the apple of my eye.” You tell him, though the child refuses to listen. Cuddles are less frequent lately since you have a crying baby that needs you, and you barely play with him anymore. “Can mommy at least get a congratulations?”

“Congratulations, mom.” Ren responds, and you feel your heart melt. Even when he’s mad at you, he’s your cute little guy. You’re rubbing your cheek with his, being as affectionate as you can be with the little guy. Though he ends up pushing you away, telling you, “You’re doing too much.” 

“Jeez, what is it with you? One moment you’re all jealous and the next you’re saying I’m doing too much.” You chuckle, standing up. You take the baby from your fiancé, knowing that she still has a long way before she can tell you that you’re doing too much. 

“Can we leave before we bump into any traffic?” Satoru asks, reading the time on his watch. Not that he’s thrilled to go to his mother’s house, but he’d prefer to be there than sitting in traffic for hours on end. He sees your eyes wandering around for the rest of your group but before you get any ideas he reminds you, “You don’t want to sit in a car with a screaming one-year-old, do you?”

“Yeah… I guess we’ll just meet them at your mom’s place.” You answer, knowing that once your baby girl begins to cry, it’s hard to get her to stop. Good thing for you, she’s usually all smiles and giggles.

“She’s drooling.” Ren points at his sister, who’s making a mess on your gown. Ren then turns his attention to his dad, asking, “I wasn’t a messy baby like her, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Satoru mutters, and you glare at him.

“Let’s get going.”

The graduation party is for you, a way for Mrs. Gojo to congratulate you on finally finishing your bachelor’s. In reality, it’s a way for her to see her grandchildren. A way for her to spoil Ren and dote on Anzu. 

Things between the two of you go back to the way they were: she barely notices you and you don’t acknowledge her. You’re no longer relying on her in any way, and apart from asking about your kids, the woman won’t bother to contact you. She’s fine with the change of you becoming Satoru’s fiancée– And even if she was opposed to it, Satoru won’t listen to her. As a matter of fact, Satoru never calls her first.

You’re in the kitchen, preparing yourself a plate of food, watching as Mrs. Gojo holds your baby. It’s odd to watch her be so… Soft with someone. Sure, she enables Ren and is willing to do anything he wants, but Ren sets the tone. You’ve never watched her with a baby before.

“Who’s my pretty girl?” The woman is putting a baby voice for fuck’s sake, something she never did for her own son. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s just grandma now, she doesn’t have to worry about anything but her grandchildren. Anzu is giggling, so Mrs. Gojo is doing something right.

“I can’t believe that’s my mother.” Satoru approaches you, a little disgusted to watch his mother like this. He should be happy, but it’s a little weird to watch such a cold woman put on a baby voice and entertain a baby. “That is my mother, right? They didn’t change her after her facelift?”

“I’m right here, Satoru. Just because I’m holding a baby doesn’t mean that my ears have disappeared.” She quickly scolds her son, and you can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t get a facelift either.”

“Right, you just spent two months in South Korea touring.” Satoru retorts, grabbing a plate for himself. They begin to bicker, and as entertaining as it is to watch them, you leave them alone to sort out their own issues.

You walk to the living room to find Ren playing with Shoko and Sayo’s baby– Something that he won’t do with his own baby sister. You’re not sure if it’s because she’s not the baby brother that Ren wanted or if it’s because he’s not getting the same amount of attention as before. Sayo keeps a close eye on the child, not because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s an overprotective mother. You sit beside him, excited to watch him play and be sweet with a baby, even if it isn’t your baby girl.

“He’s so sweet. Is he like this with Anzu?” Sayo asks, ruffling Ren’s hair as he plays peek-a-boo with the ten-month-old baby. You scoff, as if. Your reaction is the best answer that she needs, and she chuckles. She’s not sure if that’s normal behavior between siblings since she’s an only child.

“What do you mean you aren’t the sweetest older brother to Anzu? You were so excited to be a big brother.” Shoko points out, and Ren’s brows come together. He knows he can’t be mean to his auntie Shoko… So he simply glares at her.

“I don’t want to play with your baby anymore.” He responds. It’s his way of punishing Shoko for the question.

“Damn, can’t take any sort of criticism. You really don’t need a DNA test, that’s one hundred percent Satoru’s kid.” Shoko says, which earns a laugh from you.

“Babe…” Sayo says through gritted teeth, which makes Shoko roll her eyes. God forbid she points out one thing.

“He’s just a little jealous, but he loves his baby sister.” You tease him, pinching your baby boy’s cheek, and he puffs out a breath. Maybe he does like her a bit. Ren doesn’t defend himself, deciding that he’s just going to grab some food from your plate as a punishment. Though it isn’t exactly a punishment for you, you’re always happy to watch your baby eat. “Do you want me to make you a plate, honey?”

“I’m not hungry.” He mutters, crossing his arms. He stands up from his seat, and walks to the stairs, planning to go to the room that his grandma has for him. He might not have his parents undivided attention anymore, but at the very least he still has a room that’s full of games that’s just for him (as if he didn’t have one in your home either). 

“He really is Satoru’s kid…” Shoko comments when Ren is out of sight, and Sayo scolds her again.

“He is, he looks just like me.” Satoru pops into the living room unannounced, which catches Shoko off guard. He wasn’t supposed to hear that, since it’s a critique of his character but she doesn’t find a care to give. He comes back holding Anzu after nearly having to fight his mother to get her. He sits down next to you, reaching for some of the food on your plate. “But I’m guessing it wasn’t a compliment since it’s coming from you.”

“I can be nice, you know.” Shoko responds, and Satoru laughs as if a joke had just come from her lips. Nice… He’ll believe it when he sees it though. Satoru takes a bite of the food that he’s taken from your plate, and he grimaces.

“Did my mom cook or what? This is disgusting.” Satoru can’t even chew the food. Unluckily for him, he doesn’t have anywhere where he can spit the food so he’s forced to swallow. Anzu is screaming, little hand trying to reach for the food. Satoru covers her eyes, “Don’t even look there, my love. There’s no way I’m letting you eat that.”

“It’s not that bad.” You tell him, tasting the food yourself. 

“Well what is it? Am I getting a plate for myself or not?” Shoko asks, reaching over to grab some food from your plate as well. Suddenly your plate has become everyone’s plate; you’re used to it at home with Satoru and Ren, but now Shoko is on the list.

“I wouldn’t trust her with food, she’s always claiming she wants to eat the baby’s cheeks.” Satoru argues, and you click your tongue knowing damn well that he says the same thing.

“Anzu has the cutest, chubbiest cheeks, I understand.” Sayo chimes in before looking at her own baby and kissing his cheeks. Shoko takes a bite, keeping her face neutral as she chews the food. 

“It’s not that bad, Satoru. You’re just dramatic.” Shoko responds, and Satoru pouts. He brings some of the food to the baby’s lips– Even though he claimed he wasn’t going to let her taste, he needs someone to prove him right and that someone will be his one-year-old daughter that spits everything back up.

“Taste this, love.” Satoru says as Anzu bites into the food. Within moments it dribbles down her chin, and back into Satoru’s hand. He’s grossed out, but at least his point has been proven. “Anzu doesn’t like it so…”

“Are you trying to prove your point by using a baby that just stopped breastfeeding?” Shoko questions, and Satoru glares at her. She can’t help but chuckle, “Man, your son is just like you.”

“I’m going to talk to him since he appreciates me.” Satoru stands up, and begins to walk to the stairs, but your voice stops him. You call out his name, and he expects some sort of apology from you but instead you ask,

“Have you seen my mom?”

“She popped into the kitchen to talk to my mom.” He answers before leaving. You’re unphased by the response. The women that don’t get along in any other circumstance, sit together to talk about their grandchildren. They can be cordial with each other once every six months.

Though Satoru doesn’t pay much attention to them, his focus right now is on his baby boy that sits alone in the game room. Ren sits down on the floor, reading to himself. Satoru doesn’t want to interrupt the healthy habit, but at the same time he doesn’t want Ren to sit by himself during the party. He takes a moment to wash his hands before joining Ren.

“Why are you here, honey? We’re celebrating your mom downstairs.” Satoru sits down beside Ren on the floor, and he feels ten years older as he hears his bones crack. Ren barely looks up from his book, side-eyeing his sister, which makes Satoru want to roll his eyes. Isn’t he a little too old to be jealous of a baby? Matter of fact, he begged to be a big brother. “What is your issue with her? What has she done to you?”

“Nothin’.” Ren claims, his eyes landing on his book again. Satoru sighs, letting the baby on the floor so she can walk around and do as she pleases. She chooses to stay nearby, walking over to her brother to take the book that he has in his hands. “See.”

“Anzu, go over there. Chew on the power cords.” Satoru redirects her elsewhere, and the baby whines because she wants something else. “So she takes all your stuff, is that why you don’t like her? You have a lot, Ren.”

“Not just my stuff. Everyone likes her better. You, mom, granny, grammy, the nanny. I used to be everyone’s favorite but then the cute baby came along.” Ren confesses, and Satoru fights back the urge of pointing out that he called Anzu cute. It’s not about the baby right now, Satoru reminds himself.

“You’re still everyone’s favorite, Ren.” Satoru tells a little white lie– There are no favorites in the family, he loves both of his kids equally. But the baby can’t understand him, it’s why he told her to chew on a power cord. “Everyone is just excited about the new baby, it’s not that you’re not the favorite anymore.”

“Why does she get away with everything then?” Ren asks as if he didn’t know any better. He’ll act dumb simply because he’s jealous. He doesn’t ask why Sayo and Shoko’s baby gets away with everything, because Ren knows that it’s just a baby… He just doesn’t have the same feelings about Anzu.

“Well for one thing she goes potty in her pants so… She isn’t really conscious about her actions.” Satoru answers, and Ren puffs out a breath. Satoru got him there. “Anzu just needs a lot of attention because she’s–”

“Don’t do that!” Ren cuts off his father when he realizes that Anzu is doing what Satoru told her to do earlier. Ren takes the cord out of her hand, and she lets out a cry. He’s going to complain about her, but he loves her.

“She’ll grow on you.” Satoru says, standing up to grab his walking baby and get out of Ren’s hair. Ren doesn’t like the baby but he certainly loves her. “But come downstairs, Ren. We’re celebrating your mommy’s achievement. She was talking about hanging up her diploma next to your kindergarten diploma.”

“Can you tell them I don’t want to talk about Anzu?” Ren asks, and Satoru hums in response. Satoru extends his hand for Ren to take, and the child takes it without an issue before both head back downstairs to spend time with you.

“What are you doing here?” Satoru approaches you as you sit on the ground outside, in his mother’s garden. You’re hiding from everyone. After hours of talking to people inside, you need a break from the small group.

“Need a minute.” You answer, and Satoru decides to sit down next to you. The kids are fine with their grandmothers, he can take a moment alone with you and properly congratulate you. He throws his arm over your shoulder and brings you close to him. “We should’ve just gone out to eat at a restaurant and called it a day. I don’t have the energy to be so social.”

“I got you a trip to Bora Bora. You just have to power through these last couple of hours… We can get Anzu to throw a fit and make it a few minutes.” He responds and you chuckle. You rest your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes for a moment. Being social shouldn’t be so draining.

“Can we leave the kids with granny?” You ask him, and he hums in response. He had no plans on taking them; he loves them, but they sure know how to ruin a vacation. 

Your gaze falls on his face, looking into the blue eyes you fell in love with so long ago. Even though it was an eternity ago, he still makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t let you stare for too long before he steals a kiss from you.

“If you stare for too long you might find me ugly.” Satoru tells you and you roll your eyes. If you don’t find him ugly first thing in the morning then you’re definitely not finding him ugly now.

“Are you saying that because–” You begin but the man cuts you off before you can finish your question. He knows you, he knows that you’ll start a petty fight with a dumb question.

“Because I love you so much, and I think I’m not good enough for you– I know I’m not good enough for you, you’re perfect.” Satoru responds, making you grin from ear to ear. He isn’t exactly wrong, he’s lucky that you considered getting back together with him at all.

“I love you too even though you’re…” You bite your tongue before you insult him. He raises a brow and before he can question anything, your lips land on his. His cheeks begin to turn pink when you peck his lips over and over again, feeling like a teenager all over again.

You stare into his eyes when you stop, watching the sparkle in them as he looks back at you. He’s utterly in love with you, and the feeling only gets more intense as time passes. He caresses your face with the back of his hand ever so lovingly. You get lost in his loving eyes until your eyes shift to the flowers behind him.

“Oh my–” You gasp, your eyes widening as you realize. “This is where you used to pick flowers for me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Satoru laughs, turning to pick a lily for you. It’s been years since he’s been in this place. Maybe he should come here more often. “A flower for my flower.”

“Cheesy.” You take it from his hands, wanting to roll your eyes because of his comment– But your face is getting hot. Even when he’s cheesy your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Yeah, cheesy is what got me two kids.” He retorts. “Isn’t that right, Mrs. Gojo?”

“Calling me Mrs. Gojo is going to make you single.” You warn him, and he fights back on laughing. “Don’t make me divorce you before getting married.”

“What? Are you going to Suguru for a rebound again?” Satoru questions, making you glare at him. Maybe he should just listen and agree, not everything needs a response from him. “I’m just joking, baby. He has a girlfriend now and whatnot.”

“You better stick to your day job, you have no future as a comedian.” You say, standing up from the ground to go back inside, and of course, Satoru follows like a lost puppy. He’s simply lost without you.

You love spending time with your kids, you love them more than anything– But you’re not going to pass up on the opportunity of a sleepover. Having them off your hands for the night is a blessing sometimes. You simply want to celebrate with your fiancé in a way that your kids make difficult.

“I’ll run you a bath.” Satoru tells you, running to go upstairs to get to the bathroom before you. Running you a bath that he’ll end up joining, that’s not too bad. It’s a nice way to end the night, that you know for sure.

You give him a moment to set everything up, pulling out your phone to answer a couple of messages of people congratulating you for finishing your degree. What’s next? You’re not too sure. But whatever you decide it’s fine. You have Satoru and your kids by your side no matter what. The money also helps.

Right now, you know you want to relax in a bathtub full of bubbles. Maybe have Satoru right next to you. You’ve been looking into the future for the past ten years, for once you just want to sit back and appreciate the moment. 

“Are you coming?!” You hear Satoru as you walk up the stairs. He’s so impatient, he can’t even wait a minute. You won’t hurry up to please him, as a matter of fact, you walk slower. Satoru is tapping his foot on the floor when you finally get to the bedroom.

“Finally.” He says, walking over to you to zip down the zipper that holds your dress together. He’s desperate to get you naked. You’re chuckling, reminding him,

“No need for you to be in a rush, we have all night.” But it goes in one ear and out the other. Before you know it, he turns you around, his lips landing on yours. His kiss is full of desire, needing to feel your every touch on his skin. He’s burning up to feel you.

“Fuck, I want you so fucking bad.” He pulls away from the kiss as the dress drops to the ground. He picks you up from the floor and puts you down on the bed, smirking at the black lingerie that will soon be removed. “So perfect for me, love.”

“Fuck me, Satoru.” You tell him, voice seductive that can get him to drop to his knees in an instant. The bath that’s filled up and with bubbles is long forgotten by both of you. He takes off his shirt and pants, leaving his briefs. Your eyes stare at the tent that makes him ever so uncomfortable. You sit up on the bed, your fingers going directly to the erection.

Your index finger goes underneath the band of his underwear, eyes looking up at him as you pull his briefs down. Your eyes quickly avert to his cock, wrapping around the base of it. You slowly move your hand from base to tip as pre-cum leaks from the tip. Your tongue licks it up, circling around it as the man bites down on his lip.

Your mouth wraps around all it can take, bobbing your head slowly. You take what your mouth can handle. He can’t complain because it’s just perfect. Everything you do in Satoru’s eyes is perfect. The pace is slow, but it gradually gets faster. 

You look up at him to find him biting his lip, his eyes shut. You take his cock out of your mouth, and begin to run your hand up and down his shaft, your saliva serving as a lubricant. He finally opens his eyes to look down at you, but his teeth remain on his bottom lip.

“I want to hear you.” You say, a rather demanding tone in your voice. He stops biting down on his lip, and your hand continues to jerk him off for a couple of seconds before your mouth wraps around his cock again.

He’s groaning at your every move, which is like music to your ears. You look up at him to find him looking back down at you. He knows you’re more than satisfied with him, with how he sounds. It’s nice to be as loud as he wants to be, without worrying about someone barging in.

You try to take his whole length in your mouth, making you gag. Tears quickly form in your eyes as you remove your mouth from his cock, and try again. He throws his head back, breathy moans escaping his lips at your every move. 

You take your mouth off his cock and begin to jerk him off. Your mouth goes to his balls and you begin to suck on them. Satoru got louder and louder by the second, his release approaching. 

Your mouth goes back to his cock while your hands begin to play with his balls. It doesn’t take too long for his cum to hit the back of your throat. Your mouth remains on his cock for a couple of seconds before pulling away. You make sure to swallow all the cum, sticking your tongue out for him to see and proudly admire.

“My good girl.” He praises you. He reaches behind to unhook your bra and slide it off you. Once it’s off, he desperately tries to take off your panties. It’s unexpected when he gets on the bed and lays down. You crawl to where he is, positioning yourself on top of him. You get ready to ride him, but it takes you by surprise when your fiancé says, “Sit on my face.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, though it’s not unusual from Satoru.

“Just come here and sit.” He responds. You do what he wants, but you are hesitant to fully sit down. He’s the one who pushes you down onto him. His tongue is quick to wander around your cunt.

His tongue begins to flick your clit over and over again, making low moans leave your lips. His arms go over your thighs, pushing you down further. You’d be worried about him breathing, if you weren’t too focused on how his tongue moves around your pussy.

“Toru!” You moan. Your moans serve as encouragement, and are a sweet reward for the man, moving his tongue faster. His tongue stops flicking your clit, and moves down to your hole. He teases you, threatening to enter but never really doing it. 

“Baby please.” You beg. His tongue finally enters your cunt. You shut your eyes, getting lost in the feeling. But out of the two of you, Satoru is enjoying it more. He finally takes his tongue out and goes back to your clit. 

He begins to suck on your clit, and you swear you see stars as your orgasm builds up. Your hips raise a bit, but he pushes you back down. You get louder and louder. “I’m gonna- fuck- gonna cum-”

You moan loudly as you reach your climax, his tongue still working wonders. A minute later he stops, and you get off him, sitting down on his torso. He raises himself a bit, not completely to sit up but enough to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you into a lewd kiss.

“Should we continue in the bath?” Satoru asks when he pulls away and you can’t nod your head more frantically. You get off the bed and practically run to the bath. Satoru gets in the bathtub first, and you follow behind.

“You’re so lucky.” You point out as your back presses against his chest. He’s never doubted it. He peppers your neck with kisses, while you align his cock with your entrance. You lower yourself on his cock.

“How about another baby?” Satoru asks, making you click your tongue while you begin to move.

“Leave me alone” You reply, and he wants to chuckle but he’s biting down his lip as he feels your pussy wrap around him. He loves your mouth but it can’t compare to this. 

He’s kissing your back, showing you how much he loves you in every possible way as you move up and down his cock. His hand moves down to play with your clit, making you shut your eyes. Every little touch is enough to make you insane lately and Satoru loves to touch you.

“You’re so perfect around me, baby.” Satoru whispers into your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. 

You’re softly moaning his name, your walls tightening around him. You’re so close to finishing. You’ve been so touch deprived lately since your schedules make spending time with each other impossible– Maybe now you’ll have more time to spend with each other.

“Fuck–” You curse as you finish on his cock. You hold to the edge of the bathtub as Satoru continues to move in and out of you. 

He’s not going to last long. It’s too hard for him to contain himself when he’s inside of you. He comes to a complete stop when he finally reaches his release, finishing inside of you. He remains buried inside of you as you pant to catch your breaths, but after a minute you lift yourself and take his cock out of you.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Satoru asks, hands caressing your arms as your head goes to his chest.

“Just sleep.” You answer as Satoru kisses the top of your head. He squeezes your hand before bringing it up to his lips to press a subtle kiss on it. “I need to get some rest.”

“Sleep sounds nice.” Satoru responds. You’re getting comfortable in the bathtub as your eyes begin to get heavy. You’re tired. Satoru notices and he splashes you, “Don’t fall asleep in the bathtub, love.”

“Just carry me to the bed.” You reply, making him roll his eyes playfully. He can, but if you don’t drag him out he’ll stay in the water and get all pruny. He’s warm by your side, too comfortable to leave. This is the reality he wanted ten years ago, and he finally has it. He’s not leaving this comfort no matter what gets in the way.

You’ll be the one to get up first and drag him out, that’s how it usually is in the morning. But you’re falling asleep. He doesn’t want to disturb you either. So he’ll just stay in the bathtub. 

“Don’t let me get all pruny, Satoru. Carry me out.” You warn him, and he hums in response. He’ll have to eventually because you’ll end up killing him if you wake up in ten hours, and you’re still in the bathroom.

“You know Ren is going to call later to say goodnight?” He points out, but you don’t care to talk about it. You’re sleepy. He kisses the top of your head when he’s met with silence. He mutters softly to not disturb your peace, 

“I love you. Goodnight, baby.”

[novemberheart]

{overview} you make a disturbing discovery while in John’s office

{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, short chapter, slight angst

Chapter 23 <- Chapter 24 -> Chapter 25

While you had never been happier, a part of you was ready to return to base. You missed your friends and the routine that came along with it. You wouldn't miss your pack being sent to the odds and ends of the world, but you knew they were more than capable.

You and the betas drove back to base, while the alphas flew. Vernie didn't have all her shots to be able to fly. Luckily, the betas would never turn down a road trip.

“This is your new home,” you cheered softly. The familiar smell of the flat tickling your brain. The puppy decided to take great interest in the cords near the TV.

“Gonna have to puppy-proof,” Simon huffed, grabbing the squirming creature off the floor. You expected him to pass her to you, instead, he sat down on the couch placing her in his lap. You cleaned up around your room, dusting things and finishing the loads of laundry from vacation. “You’re happy,” Simon stated, looking over his shoulder at you.

“It’s nice to be back. Not going to be happy about any of you leaving though,” You mumbled the last part, flopping down on the couch next to him. Vernie crawled over to you.

“I’d hope not,” Simon grunted, causing you to roll your eyes.

There was hardly a day to get back into the swing of things. The boys being pulled for trainings and meetings. You quickly regretted saying you were happy to be back.

“Five more minutes,” you whined, Kyle’s phone alarm lighting up the room. The sun hadn't even started to come up yet.

“Alright,” Kyle agreed quickly. He put his phone on snooze, worming back under the covers with you. You both jolted awake ten minutes later to pounding at the door. “Fuck,” Kyle cursed stumbling out of bed. You giggled, the door opening to reveal a pissed-off John.

“How the hell are you supposed to train others when you can't even manage yourself?” He snapped. He pushed his way into the room, bumping into Kyle who was changing into his uniform. He bent down pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Good morning, pretty girl,” his voice was startlingly different- yet you had gotten used to that. You wrapped your arms around his neck, making sure to rub as much of your scent on him as you could.

“Good morning, alpha.”

In John’s eyes you were too sultry for your own good. “I’ll come back and get you for lunch,” he pressed another kiss against you, grabbing Kyle by the scruff, knowing if the beta had the opportunity to kiss you goodbye he would never get to training.

“God, I missed you!” Anais grinned wickedly, wrapping her arms tightly around you. Even Jane seemed happy to see you. Anais had signed all three of you up for badminton, which ended with all of you trying to get the badminton birdie out of Vernie’s mouth.

Regardless, it was fun.

“I’m hungry,” Anais sighed, even as she chewed on her bag of trail mix. “Lunch?” She questioned eyeing both of you.

“I can't. I have lunch with my alpha,” You explained stretching out on the grass.

“Oh, that's right. It’s Wednesday,” she sighed. “Need us to drop you off before we head out?” She asked, moving to a stand.

“That would be great,” you perked up. Vernie was exhausted at this point- not being the most high-energy pup in the first place. “Hey, they are having a movie night in the park Friday. We should do that,” You suggested, causing Anais to light up.

“Just as long as it’s not a scary movie this time,” Jane huffed, making the two of you chuckle. They dropped you off outside the office building, and you made quick work getting to John’s office. You couldn't be caught hanging around by yourself. You knocked at the door not hearing a response. You tugged out your key card, waiting for the small light to flicker green.

“This is John’s office,” you explained to Vernie. Even though she couldn't hear you, you could tell she liked it when you talked to her. You locked the door behind you, setting the pup down on the floor, making yourself at home on the leather couch. John’s office was classically handsome just like him. Well as nice as it could be with what he had to work with. You pulled out your phone, shooting him a text of your whereabouts. Vernie digging in the trash can caught your attention.

“Out of there Vern,” you scolded gently, grabbing her around her middle. She had a folder in her mouth she just wouldn't let go. “Vernie,” you chided again, pulling it out of her jaws as much as you could without hurting her. You finally succeeded, ready to throw it back into the trash when the label caught your eye.

OHH

You knew what that stood for. Omega Holding House. A wave of uneasiness crashed over you. You shook yourself out of your thoughts. It was probably just leftover paperwork from you. You tossed it back in the trash standing back on your feet, bringing you and Vernie back to the couch.

You couldn't relax. Those three letters remained even when you closed your eyes- taunting you. You stood up slowly, creeping back by the trash can, and pulling the folder back out. You pursed your lips trying to manage your breathing. You placed it on his desk, opening it like something would jump out at you.

Something did. A cover letter, typed and signed by Kate Laswell.

Possible Omegas for Task Force 141

It had been typed in bold, obnoxiously large letters like it was the greatest achievement one could have. ‘Possible’ the words pounded in your head repeatedly making it throb. You flipped to the next page. It was a profile of an omega, the first thing that caught your eye was the large red X through it. Must be John's writing. You flipped to the next page. Another profile- another X through it. You weren't quite sure why they had got rejected. Nothing in their biography seemed like a red flag and they were all pretty. The next page- another X.

You whined when you flipped to your page. The large red X staring up at you. It was rejection to the highest degree. Kate had even wrote a special note on yours.

Pay close attention to this one. She's a good girl.

John had written a note himself, addressing Laswell.

Not happening

You knew he probably didn't mean you specifically, and that he was referring to having an omega as a whole, but it hurt. The type of pain that made you sink to the floor. They type of pain that made your lungs feel like they were collapsing. The type of pain that comes from falling in love with someone only to have them shut the door in your face.

You flipped to the next page because what did you have to lose?

A lot apparently.

There was no red X. There was no marking on the page at all. You flipped to the next page- the last page- a red X. It was just her page without an X.

She was the one he had wanted. Who knows? Maybe all of them wanted her. You could practically see them in this office digging through each paper, judging every imperfection on each profile- including yours. She had no imperfections. She was beautiful, purebred, and came from a long line of military alphas. She was the shining star of her omega-holding house. Never once getting in trouble, always being an active participant, showing signs of being a strong, traditional omega, and her heat cycles were always regular. The opposite of you in nearly every way. The more you read the more hurt you got. You closed the file, trying to calm your sobs enough so you didn't pass out. Vernie was at your feet pawing up your ankle. You scooped her up into your arms, making your way back home.

People stared at you. You could only imagine the rumors. You were undoubtedly the most dramatic omega on base- at least the one that caused the most trouble. Your tears made people stay away from you and you were able to get all the way home without a hitch. You shut your bedroom door, throwing yourself on your bed sobbing. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. You regretted everything. You regretted agreeing to come here, you regretted warming up to each of them so quickly, you regretted sleeping with John.

John.

The name made you sob harder.

It wasn’t fair.

Would you ever be someone's first choice?

I hated writing thisssssssss😩but we can't live in peace for too long! See you in two days for Chapter 25!!!

[sleepy-steve]

@steddieangstyaugust 04/08 // angst with a happy ending

wc: 2.3k // rating: G // cw: language // tags: post-s4, eddie lives, eddie in WITSEC, mutual pining, phone calls

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“So, where are you now?”

Steve knew he wasn’t going to get a real answer to this question—given that Eddie wasn’t allowed to say—but it was basically tradition at this point to ask. 

Eddie chuckled through the receiver. “Hmm… it’s windy. And cold as balls. Will probably start snowing soon.”

Steve raised his brows. “Snow? This early?”

Dustin, from Steve’s kitchen island, mirrored his look of interested surprise, and immediately started looking over the map laid out on the countertop. It was dotted with little red and yellow stickers and various scribblings.

“Yep,” Eddie responded, popping the P. “Pretty shit going out for a smoke, but lots of trees around, so the view is decent at least.”

“Lots of trees,” Steve repeats, with a pointed glance at Dustin, who hurriedly starts marking different spots on the map. 

“How’s Henderson’s map going?” Eddie asked, knowing by the tone what they were doing.

“It’s… going?” Steve responded with a shrug. “He thinks he’s worked out the movement system.”

“I have worked out the movement system, thank you very much,” Dustin snarked, not looking up at Steve. “We can track their movement from the West Coast back up North, hence the snow.”

Eddie laughs again. “Kid’s too smart for his own good.”

“You’re telling me,” Steve grumbles, moving away from the kitchen, as far as the cord allowed him to. He drops his voice low. “How you holding up?”

“I dunno,” Eddie sighs. “Same shit, different place… Same shitty government officials with the same shitty requirements.”

Steve wants to say so much, to reassure and comfort him, but holds back. Keeps it in. “How’s Wayne doing?”

“He’s alright, doesn’t love the cold…” Steve can picture Eddie looking over at where Wayne is probably sitting nearby. “Hopefully they’ll move us somewhere warmer next.”

“D’you know when that’ll be?” A small pit of anxiety swirls in Steve’s gut. As it did any time they spoke of Eddie needing to move.

“Nah, last time was six months, but time before was only three. Hopefully this is just another quick one.” Steve can hear Eddie chewing on his lip, can picture him playing with his hair.

“Steve!” Dustin calls from behind the wall. “Ask Eddie what kind of trees are around him!”

Steve snorts. “Did you get that one?”

“Tell him I have no idea,” Eddie deadpans. 

Lowering the receiver, Steve calls over his shoulder. “He doesn’t know, buddy.”

“What kind of trees…” Eddie grumbles, only slightly mocking. “I guess I can’t blame him for trying.”

“It’s how he deals.” Steve keeps his voice low. “He misses you. I miss you.” His brain scolds him—too much—and he quickly adds, “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, and Steve’s almost sure he hears him hit his head on the wall. “I miss you too. All of you.”

It was a thing that happened often, for how infrequently Eddie was able to call. A kind of vulnerability that Steve supposed came from the fact that they couldn’t see each other, and wouldn’t for a long time yet. They’d skirt around it, but it was there, pulled taut between them, ready to break with one wrong move.

“How much longer?” Steve asks, like he doesn’t already know, like he hasn’t been counting down the days since Eddie got taken away.

Eddie exhales heavily, the sound muffling through the receiver. “Bit under three years.” Steve can hear the sad smile in his voice.

“Right.” Steve leans back against the wall, head tilted back as longing shoots through his gut. They were almost at the halfway point. There was so much he wanted to say, but he just… couldn’t. Steve would wait.

Steve’s kicking snow off his boots at his front door when he hears the phone ring from inside. He bolts in, slipping on the floor slightly in his haste. 

“Hello?” he answers breathlessly.

“Hey.”

A wave of relief washes over him. “Eddie,” he breathes.

“You okay? Did I wake you up?” His tone immediately switches to one of concern.

“No, no, I just got back from the Henderson’s,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, willing his heart to calm down now that he’s answered the call. “We wanted to call you, but… y’know.”

“Yeah…” Eddie sighs. “I wish you could.”

The silence settles, and they just listen to each other breathe for several long moments. Steve knows that Eddie is holding back, the same way he is. Saying things that are only close to what they mean. Their quiet filled with unanswered questions and things they wish they could say. Finally, Eddie breaks it.

“Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah, just me tonight,” Steve says, shrugging his jacket off. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. Steve didn’t really think it was that funny. Their constant need to skirt around the thing developing between them led to him saying some dumb stuff. He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I don’t think I could handle talking to anyone else tonight,” Eddie says, voice growing soft. “It’d be, I dunno, too much. With you, I can just… be, y’know?”

Steve is surprised—as he often is—at the honesty. He tries to make his next words sound casual, but he’s sure he fails miserably. “I’m glad I caught you then.”

“Yeah… me too.” Eddie doesn’t let the silence linger for too long this time. “So, any new Henderson theories to update me on?”

Steve snorts. “Of course.”

Letting him talk about his day at the Henderson’s, Eddie hums in the right moments, asks a few follow up questions, makes little jokes, but is otherwise quiet, seemingly content to just let Steve ramble. Happy to hear his voice. He lets Steve talk until he’s yawning too much to complete a full sentence.

“Sorry, I should let you go to sleep, it’s late.” Eddie’s tone is gentle, but like he’d rather be saying anything else.

“Nah, it’s cool, man,” Steve argues sleepily. “Don’t wanna waste your call.”

“It’s never wasted with you.”

“Eddie…” Steve doesn’t know what to say. Or rather, he knows exactly what he wants to say, but doesn’t know if he should. If he even could. He yawns again.

“Come on, bed time,” Eddie’s voice teases.

Steve feels the pull of his eyelids, begging for sleep. “Yeah, alright… Talk to you soon?” He tries to ask it casually, but again, can’t seem to manage it. Something like pleading coming through in his words.

“As soon as I can,” Eddie promises, voice tight with sincerity. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.” Steve pauses. “Merry Christmas.”

He can hear the sad smile in Eddie’s voice. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“How much longer now?” Steve asks, already knowing the answer.

“Two and a bit years,” Eddie sighs. “Past halfway, at least.”

Even Steve can tell he’s trying to convince himself it’s a good thing, but neither of them feel any happiness about it.

It’s been almost six months since Steve heard from Eddie, much longer than any gap between calls before. Anxiety gnaws away at him, a constant presence whispering in the back of his mind and sitting like a stone in his stomach. The kids—barely even kids now, having graduated high school—were starting to show their worry. He begged and pleaded with invisible entities that they’d hear something soon.

The phone finally rings.

“Hello?” Steve answers with urgency, as he did every time it rang these days.

“Steve?” the voice croaks.

“Eddie!” Bringing a hand to his face, Steve’s eyes welled with tears. “Eddie, are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” Eddie reassures him, sounding anything but. “They just had us somewhere remote. We didn't have a phone.”

“What the fuck? Can they do that?” Quiet rage slips through Steve’s chest.

“Evidently, they can do whatever they want,” Eddie seethes. “Didn’t stop me from bringing hell at every check up until they moved us again.”

Steve winces at the pain in Eddie’s voice. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. It’s fucking awful, what they’re doing to you.”

“It’s bullshit!” Eddie snaps. “I’m so fucking sick of it. I can’t believe this was their solution. Like, I’m the one demonised and hunted down in Hawkins and somehow I’m the one that ends up punished for it! It’s not even a solution. All it’s doing is fucking me around.” He takes a breath. “It’s hurting me. It’s hurting us.”

To anyone else, it would sound like Eddie meant him-and-Wayne-us, or even him-and-the-entire-party-us. But Steve knew. Heard it in the way he almost whispered it. Steve wanted to match his anger, throw something, hit something. Instead, he willed it down.

“It fucking sucks,” Steve says, keeping his tone soft. “But we’re so close to the end now. It’ll be over soon.”

“I just…” Eddie’s voice lowers. Steve can picture the way the air deflates out of him. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish… you could’ve come with me.”

“Me too.” Steve lets the back of his head hit the wall, eyes squeezed shut. “I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” Eddie says it like it’s painful. Like it gets caught in his throat halfway up. Like he was saying something else entirely.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I called when I don’t really have anything to say.” It’d been close to silent for more than five minutes before Eddie says it, voice soft. Almost timid.

The corner of Steve’s mouth lifts in a half-smile. “It’s okay. I’m just glad to hear your voice at all. To know you’re alive.”

The silence settles between them again. Comfortable, somehow. Eddie’s voice is smaller when he speaks again. “Only six months left.”

“Only six months,” Steve repeats, slightly more optimistic.

“We can… we can do it, right?” Eddie sounds so unsure. Steve can picture him playing with his hair. “It’ll be okay? When you visit?”

Steve knows what he means. He’s felt the same way for a long time. Scared that once they’re reunited, whatever this thing was—this delicate bubble of vulnerability—between them would burst. Each phone call found it wound tighter and tighter, pulled like a rubber band that would eventually reach its limit and snap, hurting both of them in the process. 

“It’ll be more than okay,” Steve says, sounding more sure than he feels. He wants more than anything to be able to hold him. To reach through the phone and wrap his arms tightly around him, feel the rise and fall of his breath and listen to his heartbeat.

“Promise?” Eddie asks, and Steve can picture him chewing on his nails.

“Promise.”

“One month left,” Steve whispers in the dead of night. No one else is there, but something about the late hour makes him quiet. Or maybe it’s what he’s saying. Like a wish that needs to be kept secret, or it won’t come true.

“One month,” Eddie repeats, just as soft. “You’ll be here?”

“Wherever you are, I’ll be there,” Steve assures him.

He’s sure Eddie can feel it too. The thing between them growing more palpable, more solid, more real. The less time they have left, the stronger it becomes. It terrifies both of them.

The car stops in an urban area of Chicago. Steve glances around as he gets out of the backseat, giving a quick thanks to the government official who drove him. His heart races. This is it. Double checking the address on the small piece of paper, he looks up to the block of apartment buildings, scanning the numbers.

Steve doesn’t need to look for long. At the next building, standing in the entryway, with his curly hair pulled into a messy bun, shadow of facial hair around his jaw, face more angular than Steve remembers, is—

“Eddie…” The name comes out in a soft breath, like a prayer. His eyes well up and he quickly blinks, as though the man might disappear if Steve couldn’t see him.

Whatever was holding Eddie to the stoop of his building breaks. He jumps down, skipping the stairs completely and landing with a thud of his boots. He runs, as quick as his legs allow him, until he crashes into Steve, almost knocking them both to the ground. With his arms around Steve’s neck, Eddie whispers his name over and over. Steve pulls him tight, arms wrapped around his waist. Steve can feel Eddie’s heartbeat matching his—racing, pounding, about to jump out of his chest. They hold each other like they’ll never let go, afraid that all of it could be taken away again.

Finally, Eddie pulls back, one hand softly entangled in Steve’s hair, and looks at him, huge eyes filled with tears. “You look different,” Eddie says with a wet laugh.

Steve can’t help but smile. “In a good way?”

Eddie nods with enthusiasm, grinning despite the tears. “In a really good way.”

Their eyes are locked on each other, and Steve can’t hold back anymore. He leans in, cautiously at first, before Eddie gives him a tiny nod, leaning in to meet him halfway. Their lips finally meet, crashing together, and Steve gasps at the feeling. It’s messy and desperate and shy. It’s everything they wished they could say, given to each other in their kiss. Steve brings his hands up to hold Eddie’s face, feeling the tears spill over and wiping them away with his thumbs.

They pull back, laughing and crying. Steve kisses him again and again and again, on his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, before finally just looking, taking in every detail of Eddie’s face. The deep brown of his eyes, the thick lashes, the faint dusting of freckles across his nose. “I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

Eddie laughs again. It sounds like a sob. “Never again. You promise?”

“I promise,” Steve says reverently. “I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile grows wider, a fresh lot of tears spilling from his eyes. “I love you, too.”

[sccrim]

she’s just like candy ── toji fushiguro

ʬʬ . warnings ▧ ▧ smut w plot , teasing , choking , slapping , hair grabbing , oral male , degrading , praising , spitting , public sex , pnv , unprotected , cream pies

you teasing toji everytime he was around you. eventually he couldn’t take it anymore

i hope you guys enjoyed this as much as i did.

1.3k words not proof read

"sorry to interrupt, but here's everyone's coffee." you spoke, giving everyone each of their coffees. you never mind grabbing them since it was always on gojos business card and he always insisted on you buying yourself coffee too.

"i didn't forget about your detail coffee mr. fushiguro." you smiled and place the drinks in the middle. you were bent over the around table. toji leaned back with his finger on his chin seeing your whole ass now. the way your short tight shirt fit perfectly against your thighs and ass. "anything else for you mr. gojo?" gojo nodding his head no. you smiled at everyone and closing the door behind you. toji reminiscing the way your outfit was tight on you.

you sat at your desk going through gojos schedule to add on or take off things he wanted. when you looked up, you saw toji. he couldn’t keep his eyes off your breast. you had on a white button up sleeve but since your boobs popped out you had a couple buttons off. "can i help you mr. fushiguro." you smiled. "why did you have to work for gojo and not me." he fake frowned. "because i wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you." you laughed. god, he loved that laugh. the way your smile lit up the room.

"i wouldn’t mind you getting me coffee anytime."

"who said i couldn’t get you coffee everyday. your one floor up." you teased. to be fair you always flirted with all the upper males. it just made your job easier for the day. women hated you for it but you didn’t care. you never once got complained on. "i don’t think gojo would mind if i stole you for a couple weeks."

"to do what for you mr. fushiguro? you have an assistant already." you playing around with your pen. toji eyeing your every move. "come find out." you laughed. you picked up the phone seeing that it was gojo. "yes sir?" you applied gloss on your lips. you didn’t care that toji was right in front of you. if anything you liked it. the way he would want your lips on him. "yes sir, i’ll get it done right away." you hung up the phone. "sorry mr. fushiguro duty calls." you winked, walking off.

if eyes could fuck, yours would be amazing. fushiguro groaned in annoyance, feeling his cock about to turn rock solid. "im done with this game." he whispered trying to find you.

you chewing your gum, waiting for the printer to print the copies for gojos next meeting. "come on." you rolled your eyes, seeing that the printer stopped functioning. you bent down to pull the cord and plug it back in. you heard the printer restart. "better fucking work." you spoke. you turned your body hearing the door close. "stalking now? thought you were better then this."

"i’m done with your games y/n."

"what games?"

"come on, don’t act stupid."

"you know what’s funny?" you laughed. "hm?" he walked closer to you as you were leaning against the counter. "everytime we have a conversation, you always seem to get hard? and yet you never seem to find me and fuck me." bold of you. "you have no idea how bad i wanna fuck the shit out of you."

"tell me mr. fushiguro, how bad?" you looked up at him with your lashes. toji getting closer to you. "i want you screaming my fucking name. telling me don’t stop. i want you in tears."

you got on your knees, unbuckling his belt. toji placing his hand on your chin while moving his thumb against your lips. "be a good girl and spit on it." he whispered. your saliva hitting his tip. your hand pumping his dick causing him to lean his head back. you place his dick in your mouth. going back and forth. toji soft moaning. gripping your head guiding you to go faster. the faster you went the more gagging happened.

he did not give a fuck. it turned him on even more. the way your mouth wrapped while his dick perfectly. you placing your other hand on the other half that couldn’t fit in your mouth. toji looking down at you. "fuck, take it all." he spoke. toji now, rocking back and forth as you continued to devour his cock. "look at you, being a fucking slut for me. how would gojo feel if he saw you being a dirty fucking slut in his printer room."

"unbutton your shirt."

you took your shirt off while he was pumping his dick. toji watched your take off your shirt when he lifted you up. you now sitting on your counter. he lifted your shirt up seeing your black thong. toji tapping his dick against your clit. he could tell you were wet just by the moist noise from just his dick tapping your wet pussy. "look how wet you are for me." he couldn’t wait any longer, he slammed into you, causing you to moan. toji thrusting into you at a fast pace. his head on your shoulder moaning.

"so. fucking. wet."

"toji—"

toji gripping your hair causing your head to lean back. toji giving your kisses on your neck. "holy fuck. y/n." he kept the same pace. hitting your g spot. "please toji— don’t stop."

"shit feels good huh?"

"fucking speak." you moaned in agreement. "can’t even speak. fucking pathetic." he kissed his teeth. "open your mouth for me." toji spitting in your mouth. you had never been fucked this good. "i’m gonna—"

"cum for me."your body shaking. "i’m not finished with you yet." toji turning you around. he slammed back into you. "i don’t care how many times you cum, you’re gonna be screaming for me." he slapped your ass causing it to be red. he placed his hands on your shoulder, thrusting into you. "you feel so fucking good." he moaned. his balls slapping against you. "toji—" you moaned back.

this is what he wanted and he got it. all those times you teased him with bending over, rubbing your leg against his, the way you placed your gloss right in front of him. "be a good doll and suck on my finger." he placed his finger in your mouth. toji getting harder, feeling how wet his finger was. "baby, you’re so fucking perfect. your pussy was made just for me." this man was so pussy whipped and you didn’t even care. you loved how his dick fit so perfect in you.

he wrapped his hand around ur neck, slamming into you. his other hand in front of your clit, rubbing it in circles. your body began to shake again. "i’m cumming—" toji loved this.

your body wanted more. you knew you would be sore but you did not care. you wanted this more than ever. your phone began to ring. "answer it." you nodded your head no. "fucking answer it." you grabbed your phone and swiped to answer it. it was gojo. fuck. "yes mr. gojo?" you tried so hard not to moan. "yes, sorry about the wait. the printer had to reset. so i had to reprint them. i’ll be done soon." toji going at a fast pace.

"fuck." you moaned. "if only he knew." he laughed. toji placed his hands on your hips, all you hear is the clapping against each others skin. "hang on just a little longer for me, doll." he moaned about to come to his climax. thrusting fasted and faster. "fuck i’m gonna cum." he pulled out and snapped his finger for you to get on ur knees.

pumping his dick as you opened your mouth. "fuck—" his breathing getting heavier, trying to catch his breath. "swallow it all for me." he finished in your mouth. you looked up at him with your innocent eyes following his command. "now go give gojo his papers." he smiled.

tags . @rissouu

 sccrim — all rights reserved. please do not modify, repost , translate , or plagiarise my content.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this isn’t how things should be.

your living room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the tv in front of you, and the moon is glowing a pearlescent blue. flimsy strings of moonlight spill over your floorboards, reflecting off the windows, and whatever you’re doing isn’t what you should be doing. you shouldn’t be awake this late, shouldn’t be gorging on sweets before bed, shouldn’t be having a rendezvous with an enemy — shouldn’t be watching movies with your ex of ten years. 

most of all, you shouldn’t be feeling nearly this content.

getō is seated right beside you, legs comfortably spread, popping a macaron into his mouth. chewing it slowly, savouring the flavour. or lack thereof, you suppose — he’s digested far too many curses for his taste buds to remain intact.

or so he says, anyhow.

this time, he brought pastries with him. expensive ones, you can tell, just from the package alone; a soft pastel pink box, wrapped up in silk, golden letters etched into the front. mont blancs, macarons, two slices of strawberry shortcake. carefully picked, suited to your tastes.

(you aren’t actually too fond of sweets, anymore, but how is he to know? he hasn’t seen you in years.)

”would you like me to make us some tea?”

when you turn your gaze towards him, getō’s wearing a smile. laid-back, the slightest upward curl, tilting his head in a manner you’re far too used to. eyes shining with something keen. somehow, it feels difficult to tear your gaze away from his.

but you manage, turning forward, grasping control over your sleepy vocal cords. ”no, i’m good.”

a low hum. he’s still looking at you.

”coffee?”

”the sweets are more than enough.”

this time, a smile — one you can’t see but still somehow sense. a little bit amused. getō gazes at you with a knowing look, watches you glance at the box of pastries on your coffee table; studying you under the monochrome flicker of the tv-screen. 

”understood,” he finally quips, leaning back into the leather couch. exhaling a little breath. ”eat as much as you’d like. i bought them for you, you know.”

you nod, nibbling at a macaron. not glancing his way.

being alone with him still feels a little awkward. a little tense — to be curled up on the same couch, watching the same movie, just like your old sleepovers in high school. there’s an elephant in the room that neither of you have addressed — not since he first showed up, just a couple weeks ago, waltzing up to your apartment with a plastic bag of dvds after a decade of estrangement. wearing heavy robes, and a familiar smile. asking to be let in.

and despite every single circumstance telling you not to, you did just that. you’ve yet to refuse. 

(satoru would hate you, if he knew.)

so he’s there, right beside you, and you don’t talk about it. not his choice, not your work, not anything except the movie playing on the screen in front of you. this time, it’s one he’s seen before. beautiful, he called it, and for once you think it might be a romance — if the kiss between the main actors is anything to go by. 

you wonder if that’s why he says it.

”say, do you hate me?”

you still. freezing in place, for a moment, discontent but not surprised. he’s always been like this; breaking any illusion of peace before you can find solace in it. 

you bite back a groan, and shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye — but he isn’t looking at you. only at the tv, at the two men, holding hands and standing on a bridge in the rain, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. and you sigh, turning your head to look at him fully, parting your lips. your voice comes out frustrated. 

”do you really want to have this conversation now?”

”when else?” he chuckles, meeting your gaze with one brow raised. amber eyes gleaming with mirth, and something else, something less practiced. ”you don’t have to answer. i’m just curious.”

you gulp down the last of the macaron, licking your lips for any leftover crumbs — unaware of how his eyes follow the movement. ”are you?”

a hum buzzes in the back of his throat, a tiny rasp. you wonder if he’s tired. ”i hadn’t expected this, you know.” he taps at his knee with the pads of his fingers, rhythmic and controlled. ”i thought it was just wishful thinking… that you’d let me come this close.”

you feel his gaze on you. it’s heavy, heavy like lead, like a loaded gun. you feel it dissect you from afar, and can’t find it in you to reach for another pastry. 

”… would you have preferred being kicked out?”

”not at all.” a little grin plays at his lips, something in his voice betraying the face he’s making. ”are you avoiding the question?” 

another sigh. you’re painfully aware of how resigned it sounds, spilling out into the open air, already filling with a sense of dread — any leftover nostalgia bursting at the seams. you want to tell him so many things, but every thread inside your mind feels all tangled up.

and, as always, getō beats you to the punch. 

”that’s fine, too.” a brief pause, a twitch of his pinkie. he closes his eyes and inhales a breath. ”because i’ll keep waiting.”

for a second, you consider not taking the bait. 

then you’re giving in. because that’s what you always do, whenever he’s involved. you watch him in the dark, pale skin enveloped by moonlight, raven hair spilling across the headrest. he looks beautiful, like this, just resting his eyes.

”… for what?” you whisper, and his answer comes without a hitch to his breath.

”for you to love me again.”

…

getō tilts his head, opening his eyes, a golden brown dragging you into their depths. he looks expectant, selfishly awaiting a response, and you’re tired. 

(unbeknownst to you, he resists the urge to intertwine your fingers, to trace every ridge and dip of your knuckles with his thumb. to squeeze your palm like a promise, something concrete.)

when your mind has managed to untangle itself, something in your gaze turns sharp. frustrated, impatient, disappointed, looking at him with a raised brow. ”you really are stupid, aren’t you?”

as fast as it came, your gaze returns to the screen in front of you. monochrome, flickering, two beautiful men. one of them is holding a gun to the other’s temple, and the victim looks appeased. the movie’s almost over.

(how very like him, to find such violence beautiful.)

quietly, you swallow down the bile building up in the back of your throat. a decade of bitter flavours. clenching your teeth, nails digging into the couch beneath you, leather on your cold fingertips. it’s a little peeled.

you wonder why you even bother being honest, when he never quite seems to return the favour.

but the room is dimly lit, and the moon is big and bright, and your ex of ten years is sitting right next to you. in your apartment, on your couch, watching a movie on your tv. when he could, should be anywhere else. he’s with you, and he pulls the words out of your throat without trying. puppeteering your heartbeat.

”… as if i ever stopped.”

silence.

you hear a gunshot ring out. low, muffled, a crackle of static. one of the men falls down to the ground, and you can’t tell who's who. the actors are forgettable, but the soundtrack is pretty. it rings in your ears like a lullaby. 

getō says your name.

it sounds the same as you remember. honeyed syllables, spilling from his parted lips, silky and sweet. he says your name like he’s asking to marry you, and you can hear the smile he’s struggling to repress.

”will you look at me?”

it’s less of a question, and more of a demand. you wonder why he even bothers asking — but you’ve never really understood the way his brain works. never understood why a burglar would bother asking the shopkeeper for permission before reaching for the register, when they’ll be leaving with the money either way. 

and you’re paralyzed, stuck in place on the couch, gaze glued to the screen in front of you. but you aren’t watching, not really, just looking. and you don’t want to see what kind of face he’s making. so you whisper;

”.. no.”

”no?” he mimics, something like a coo on the tip of his tongue. as always, you can feel his gaze, travelling down your face like a trickle of honey. ”and why is that, my dear?”

you bite down on your lip.

a long, long moment passes, and neither of you say a word. he’s looking at you, and you’re looking down at your lap, at your clenched fists. a little meek. it’s quiet, the calm before the storm, and you know exactly what’s going to happen — it’s already set in stone.

”because you’re going to kiss me,” you exhale, finally, resignation on your breath. ”and i’m going to let you.”

…

for a second, you wonder if his silence means he understands. if he can hear the desperate plea in your voice, if he can translate it correctly. 

but his fingertips graze the lines of your jaw, his palm sneaks under your chin, and he keeps you in place. turning your head to meet his gaze, his amber eyes, dripping with something hungry; something pleading. 

this time, he doesn’t ask for permission. he leans forward until there’s no space between you, tips your head back, and kisses you with bated breath — as softly as he can manage, which is still too intense for your liking. still brimming with desperation, something carnal, like he wants to pour his everything into the kiss but knows he shouldn’t. he tastes like tobacco.

and it’s over. 

you know it is, because your senses are flooded with him, him, him. nothing but him, the strands of his raven hair ghosting your skin, his greedy tongue licking along your teeth, large palms resting on your spine and the back of your head. you’re pliant, surrendering yourself to his touch. he’s cradling you like he loves you, and you feel like you’ve done something awful, because you have.

because you’ve let him come so close, again, invited him inside — inside of your home, your ribcage. and he won’t bother making a home for himself there, because it’s already waiting for him, untouched, between your fourth and fifth ribs.

you never bothered to get rid of it.

(that’s your sin.)

getō hums, muffled by your lips. he sounds pleased. he sounds like he’s been waiting for this for decades, and you suppose that he has. he murmurs praise that you do nothing but swallow down. everything feels too perfect, too normal, and it’s too much, too much, too much. your lips pressed together, your chests pressed together, your noses meeting in a tender touch. you choke down the noise that threatens to push past your lips, and he kisses you like a starved man. like he’s trying to drown in you.

he only pulls away once he realizes that you’re crying, and by then it’s too late. his widening eyes don’t matter, your cold hands don’t matter, the tremble of your erratic heartbeat has never mattered less. he looks at you with remorse, and it doesn’t matter. 

(he’s yours, again. and you’re his.

you can’t stop crying.)

”… i’m sorry.”

in the background, you hear the sound of gentle whispers, an ending scene. the men are talking to each other, speaking softly, and your eyes burn with tears. geto catches one of them with his forefinger, and leans forward to plant a kiss against your nose. chaste, this time. still mumbling apologies.

it doesn’t matter, because a tiny sob still breaks past your throat — and you know the sound must hurt him. 

you hate that. you hate that you always hurt him, hate that you care, hate that you feel nothing but guilt when he’s around. you hate the movie still playing to your left, hate that he doesn’t hate it, hate that he loves you. hate that you love him, that you probably always will.

you hate that you blink up at him with glassy eyes, swallow down a shaky breath, and kiss him again. hate that it’s still the only thing you know how to do well.

he doesn’t pull away, only biting back a noise of surprise — but he makes sure to kiss you gently, as if you’re made of porcelain, slow and tender, cradling you closer still. he wipes away your tears with his thumb, one after another, and you hate yourself because everything feels so deliriously right.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that what you’re playing is a losing game. 

(he’s yours, and you’re his. it’s already set in stone.) 

[stardustshuji]

. ★⋆. ࿐࿔ mma fighter! rindou is untouchable.

cw: graphic depictions of violence. blood.

rindou doesn’t believe in luck.

luck is for people who rely on chance; success is for those who work for it. it's a belief that's held up his entire life.

at least, until you came along.

in the two years that you've been together, he's yet to lose a single fight. every opponent, no matter how skilled, has ended up tasting the mat by the end of the match— and it’s all because of you.

your unwavering support gives him a sense of focus, a clarity he didn’t know he was missing. with you, there’s no room for doubt. just raw determination, steady resolve, and a fire that fuels him in the ring, making him even more ruthless than before.

bouncing on the balls of his feet, rindou's gaze is sharp as he sizes up his opponent. the guy has some height on him, an advantage he probably thinks he can use to keep rindou at bay.

but rindou can read him like a book: the stiffness in his stance, the subtle hesitation in his footwork, the way his shoulders bunch just a little too much before each movement. he may think he’s slick, but he's broadcasting his intentions before he even acts.

out of habit, his eyes flicker to you in the crowd. you're sitting in the front row, dressed in a little black number that hugs your figure just right, your eyes locked on him as you chew on your bottom lip.

that brief moment of distraction costs him.

his opponent lunges forward, landing a heavy blow to his jaw that rattles his teeth and sends his mouthguard flying. it snaps his head back, and his vision flashes white as the metallic taste of blood hits his tongue.

spitting it out onto the floor, rindou only grins. “alright,” he mutters, wiping crimson from his lips. “my turn.”

rindou surges forward, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. with a feint to his left, he draws his opponent in and delivers a brutal right hook to his ribs. the guy stumbles, gasping for air, and rindou follows up with a low kick, knocking his balance clean out from under him. the man manages a desperate swing, but it’s clumsy— futile, really— and rindou ducks, slipping beneath the punch with ease.

there’s a rhythm now, a punishing pace that rindou sets as he doles out a series of precise strikes. he opens with a sharp jab to the jaw, one that rocks his opponent’s head back, causing him to lower his guard. it leaves him wide open, and without hesitation, rindou lands a crushing uppercut to his chin to disorient him even further. the guy staggers back, his eyes unfocused, but rindou doesn’t let up.

he presses forward, driving his knee up into his stomach with enough force that he hears a wheeze before the man doubles over, swaying slightly. somehow, he manages to stay standing, and lavender eyes narrow as rindou calculates the end.

planting his feet on the ground, corded muscles ripple beneath inked skin as he pivots his body, swinging his leg up in a roundhouse kick that connects squarely against his opponent's temple. the impact is immediate, a definitive crack that sends his head whipping sideways before he crumples, unconscious before he even hits the mat.

rindou stands over him for a moment, rolling his shoulders back as he spits out another mouthful of blood. he hears the referee blow a whistle, calling the match, and he turns back to the crowd, his gaze landing back on you as he raises his fist in the air.

a smirk tugs at his lips when he sees you jump out of your seat, clapping and hollering along with everyone else. your smile is radiant, brimming with pride and admiration, and that alone makes everything worth it.

“i’ll need a reward for that one, yeah?” he calls out to you, his voice carrying over the cheers of the crowd. your cheeks tint an endearing shade of pink, and his smirk stretches wider as he strides out of the ring. “i’ll be waiting for it in the locker room.”

no, there’s no such thing as luck— but with you by his side, rindou doesn’t need it.

[ailelie]

I have a deep appreciation for every person who posts lists and articles with the theme "Why you shouldn't get X as a pet" where X is everything from exotics to cats and dogs.

Often these articles, especially the ones for cats and dogs, garner terrible comments from people defending their pets as if the article is an insult or threat. The articles aren't for them though.

They're for me. And people like me.

I would be a terrible pet owner. I dislike extra mess (e.g., food tossed about, shed hair, droppings), hassle (e.g., multiple hours required daily interaction, protecting cords and cables from chewing, daily walks) and additional chores (e.g., litter boxes, vomit clean up, aquarium cleaning).

Occasionally, though, I get this little urge saying Wouldn't it be nice to have something else sentient in your apartment....?

And I'll start browsing adoption websites or small breeder sites or upcoming conventions or shelters or however the pet in question is acquired. I'll read through care instructions, make a budget, and think I could do that...

But then, some tiny part of me, too quiet to be heard over the growing momentum of pet pet pet directs my fingers to hunt for the 'why you shouldn't' articles, because there will be one. There's always inevitably one published on a pet store website, hidden in a forum, shared on reddit, hosted by a veterinarian--someone has compiled all the reasons why the pet is a bad idea.

So I find it. And I read it. And then I toss my budget away. And I close all my related tabs. And I let go of the thought entirely. Crisis averted.

Because, occasional impulse aside, I don't want a pet. I just need a reality check from time to time.

[blckbrrybasket]

23. “Show and I’ll Learn”

Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

꒰Sex Toys꒱ - 1.1k

• sharing sex toys, first use of a vibrator, friends to lovers

kinktober m.list

“Have you ever used sex toys?” 

The question made your eyes widen, not expecting that at all. It was out of nowhere, like most of Robin’s questions were. “Uh no, not really. Have you?” Chewing her bottom lip, Robin responded carefully, “Mhm. I have one.” Unbeknownst to you the reason she asked the question was because she had gone to a sex shop recently.

“Really?” You never thought Robin was a prude, but it was still a bit shocking. Not many people around here openly spoke about sex toys. That didn’t mean you were turned off from the conversation, looking at Robin with a curious smile. “Want to see it?” Of course you said yes, why wouldn't you?

She hopped off her bed, opening her bedside table, pulling out the device. It looked like a cloudy purple dildo with a rabbit that split off from the side of it. A cord was attached at the bottom, leading to a remote with a slider to determine the mode and speed.

Robin’s fingers were curled around the bottom, turning it over for you to curiously inspect it. “And what does this part do?” You pointed to the two little ‘ears’ of the rabbit finger angling down as you looked at the rabbit part. She tilted her head to look at what you pointed to. “It’s for your clit.” “Huh.” you commented, having a hard time imagining how it worked.

Your confused expression was easy to pick up on. “Do you want to try it?” You looked up at Robin curiously, “Is that okay?” She smiled brightly at your question, happy to share. “Yeah!” She held onto it while she disappeared into the bathroom to wash it for safe measure. While waiting you picked at your nails, imagining what would happen.

Would Robin touch you too? You hoped so. Before you knew it, Robin had reentered her bedroom, locking the door for extra measure even though nobody was home. “Okay first things first, I use some lube to help.” You watched her dig in her dresser, tossing underwear from her drawer to find it. You knew what lube was, but you were unsure why you needed it for the toy.

“Aha!” Robin exclaimed triumphantly, holding the bottle up. “Why don’t you just use it when you’re wet?” You shuffled your shorts off, underwear following them as you asked her. “It makes it easier since it’s different from a real dick.” Fair enough. Robin sat back on the bed, “Come here.”

Following her instructions, you sit in her lap and between her legs. “Next I usually touch myself for a bit.” You looked down, fingers hesitating. She was way closer than before, pressed against you with her chin on your shoulder. Saying fuck you to the nerves, you reach down and press your fingers to your clit. 

Robin watched you play with yourself, fingers moving up and down back and forth. Her nose slid across the top of your shoulder, watching you closely. She was entranced by you, snapping out of it when you whined. “That...that should be good.” She reached around, holding the toy.

She was so focused she didn’t realize she could ask if you wanted to control it. Yet she didn’t want you to. She wanted to control, the same way you wanted her to have the power.

The tip of it slid down through your warm folds, spinning it to coat it with your wetness. Her other hand brought the lube to it as she held the toy up again. You couldn’t look away as she poured the liquid on it, watching as it rolled down. Robin placed the bottle beside her, smearing the lube around to cover the rabbit.

“It may be a bit of a stretch,” she warned, lining it up to your entrance. Getting the gist, you slid your body down an inch or so, opening your legs to bend them over on either side of hers. Robin drew the tip up and around your clit, sliding it back down. The material was cool from the lube, making you shiver when Robin gently thrust it in. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles against your shoulder when you shiver. Robin settled it properly, your clit pressed against the rabbit. “And then you turn it  on…ready?” Once you muttered a soft yeah, Robin grabbed the remote, making sure not to tug on the cord. She slowly moved the dial up to turn the speed on low, your lips parting. “O..oh!” you gasped, hips jolting. 

Not wanting you to accidentally run away from the feeling, Robin held your hips down with an arm across them. The dildo inside moved in a circle, swirling inside you. It was impossible to keep your head up, letting it fall back as you became accustomed to the feeling, sticky arousal sliding down the toy. “Oh shit, robin..” She smiled and nodded, “I know.”

Your arms moved to the side as you held onto the sheets “I want more,” you panted. Listening, Robin turned it up as you moaned, thighs clamping around it. She laughed, knowing she had the same reaction the first time she used it. Her hand left your hips to pry your thighs open, the rabbit vibrating over your clit.

She bit her lip as your hips bucked, trying to meet the vibrations deeper, crying out when it flicked over your clit. “Oh my god!” You mewled, Robin shifting to keep your writhing legs open. She settled your back to her chest, body leaning forward to meet your arching back, her arms hooked under your legs.

The toy continued moving, sliding around the walls of your needy pussy. You had previously thought the vibrations would numb your cunt, but it did the opposite, all of your nerves feeling like they were sparked like fireworks. “Shit robin I’m-” “I know, come on. Come for me,” she whispered in your ear, your pussy clenching at her words.

At her insistence, your walls constricted as you came, eyes rolling back. “Oh fuck, oh fuck!” you moaned, unable to stop your reaction. Robin let go of your thighs, letting you shut them instinctively as she reached under to grab the remote and stop the toy. 

You panted, shaky hands leaving her bed to push your messy hair back. “Holy shit,” you breathed, chuckling. “I love the future.” Robin snorted at your words, coaxing your legs open to pull it out of you. She pecked your cheek, “If you ever want to use it let me know” “I will,” you answered almost immediately, giggling as you curled into her lap, completely relaxed after your orgasm.

tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @slut4ddn, @marirxse, @chx-rrryc0la, @adventures-of-impala, @shesadilema13, @dreamerjj

[barleyo]

*licks teeth and pins u against the wall* so uh...how bout one of those big bro leon fics, *I say with a glint in my eyes*

Purist.

Big Bro! Leon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: *quivers and covers chest nervously* w-w-well, i-i guess i could write a— a little something... *eyes shift awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with a gulp* uhm... here. i, uh, i hope you enjoy... (some of the dialogue is inspired by the 2007 movie teeth :3)

Tags: incest (brother-sister)/(daddy-daughter mentioned), coercion, dub-con, religious themes, allusion to p in v/a /no real penetration mentioned, fingering (anal and vaginal f receiving), brief mentions of previous sexual assault/abuse

Wordcount: 2.1k

You spent the entirety of your mid to late teen years obsessed with God. With purity. With salvation. Your parents dragging you and your brother, Leon, to church must've eventually struck a cord with you. Ever since the youth pastor chewed up that bubblegum and offered it around to everyone, making the point that nobody wanted a tainted 'treat,' the idea of staying untouched seemed to just click into place for you. Your body was a sacred thing, not to be touched or looked at lustfully by any man. 

Complete abstinence is easier than perfect moderation, as the great St. Augustine said. Why not swear yourself to chastity? A bond of complete celibacy, of purity, promised by you to your Lord.

Unfortunately, your big brother didn't seem to feel the same way.

Leon was your exact opposite, in the way that he couldn't spend a night alone. While you would sit in your room, reading or studying like a proper girl, the wanton sound of a random female companion of his would rip through the paper thin walls of your parent's house. Every night, or what felt like it, he would bring home a 'date,' as you called them, though, he would sooner call them 'easy sluts.' 

You weren't easy. Leon liked that about you. Every crude joke he made at your expense, wether at the dinner table or in the brief expanse of the hallway near your rooms, you shut down immediately. You were too maidenly for your own good, and unafraid to show it. Oh, he really liked it. Not like those other whores he'd snatch up on the way home, were you? His boyish, smug grins did nothing to bring you, his darling little sister, to your knees in the way it did other women your age. 

Maybe that was why he did it— bringing those girls over. He knew good and well you could hear them— hear him— through the thin walls. He could tell based on the way you looked at him with scornful eyes the morning after as he accompanied the umpteenth girl of his to the front door, tactfully kicking her out with the promise of calling her back. Of course, he did no such thing, the womanizer that he was. He'd wink at you. Taunting you. 

Maybe he did all of this to tempt you, to show you what you were missing out on. Maybe he was sending you a message. An offer? No. The more likely option was that he just liked to tease you. Yes, that seemed more 'brotherly.'

It was another night. Another sleepless night of being tormented by the lewd sounds coming from your older brother's room. You could practically hear the individual squeak of every spring in his old mattress as he used whatever girl he had with him now. You heard her muffled voice. Poor girl must've had her face pushed into the pillow. Maybe she was ugly. Leon always let the pretty ones look at him while he sexed them up— you could tell because you heard their voices much clearer in the night. 

It was nearly melodic. Hearing almost every movement between the two. You could piece it together in your mind, and before you knew it, you had your eyes tightly shut, imagining the scene.

You pictured it in more detail than you thought the Lord would be appreciative of. You saw your brother's toned back with his tapered waist, his taut muscles clenching and coated in a slick sheen of sweat as he worked his hips against a faceless girl's heat. It was a dance. You seemed to imagine it more passionate than it sounded. Where the girl next door was certainly getting pounded, your imaginary girl was being treated tender and soft. Gentle strokes accompanied by a firm grasp. 

You were yet again reminded the next day of how much different your real brother was to the version of him your mind conjured up the previous night. Not nearly as sweet, that was for sure. 

You pushed into his room, not bothering to give him the dignity of a knock. That was another thing he liked about you. For how meek and God-fearing you seemed to be, you could be a real bitch to your dear ol' brother. He found it sort of funny, the juxtaposition between how you really were and how his lackadaisical manner made you act. 

"We need to talk about your girlfriends," you said, slamming his door behind you. The breeze caused by the door made a few of his classless pin-up girl posters swish upwards, hanging on for their lives against the black walls of his room by the tiny scraps of tape he stuck them with. 

"Don't have any," Leon said casually, legs spread and arms over his chest. He tossed a baseball up and down, catching it in his palm as he leaned his head against his headboard. 

You huffed and stomped over to his bedside to snatch the baseball. He let you grab it, shooting you an amused grin as you palmed the ball far too big for your hand. 

"Well, whatever you want to call them—"

"Let's just call them whores, yeah?"

"I'm not going to call them that," you spat, eyebrows raising into your hairline. "Your 'friends.' How about that? Your 'friends' need to stop coming around. I can't live like this. I can't sleep!"

"Awh, poor thing. Your grade in 'prissy bitch' class must be dropping now. Y'fall asleep during your stick-up-the-ass exam, college girl?" he asked, nose scrunching teasingly as he eyed you. He reveled in how your offended look grew. 

"Can you take anything seriously, you ass?" You dropped his baseball to the floor and kicked it under his bed, to which he mumbled 'bitch' and an additional explicative or another under his breath. "Last night was ridiculous. I didn't get a wink of sleep. These walls aren't nearly as thick as you act like they are."

"Oh, you heard that? What, it turn you on or something?"

You stilled, arms rising back to cover your chest defensively. It didn't turn you on, per se, but it did something, that was for damn sure. You weren't about to confess that to Leon, though. Not if you had a choice. 

"No, it did not 'turn me on,' Leon. Do you hear yourself when you speak, or does everything come out on instinct?"

"Instinct. So, Virgin Mary, what're you harassing me about now? You don't enjoy the sweet, sweet sound of random chicks getting smashed?"

He sat up straight, back flush to his headboard now as he turned to face you. 

You got a good look at his features. Looked a lot like your dad. Score! Perfect excuse, suddenly coming to mind.

"No, I don't. I'm sure daddy doesn't appreciate it either," you said, trying to guard yourself with the veil of your father. 

Leon snorted. "Well, I guess daddy dearest will just have to come tell me himself then, won't he? Seems like he's too drunk nowadays to hear anything," he said, voice nearing bitter territory. 

"Don't talk about dad like that," your voice taking on a more protective edge in your father's defense. "He's going through a rough time. He doesn't need your shit."

"And I don't need yours. This whole abstinence thing has your horse pretty high, you know." Leon shifted his legs over the side of his bed, elbows resting on his knees. Most of the humor he had left in his voice had drained out, being replaced with a seriousness. "You aren't slick."

You narrowed your eyes at him, eyebrows pinching together. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, sis," he said, mocking tone lacing the nickname, "we both know who you're saving yourself for, and I've been real patient up until now. I'm not gonna wait forever."

You wanted to repeat yourself, you wanted to ask just what the hell he meant by that, but he interrupted your train of thought.

"You think I couldn't hear you listening like a little pervert? Hell, even before I started bringing girls home. I couldn't jerk off without seeing you peeking through the crack in my door. Like I said, you aren't slick. You act like you're all hard and saintly, but you're just a nasty pervert, aren't you?"

So many thoughts ran through your head. So many emotions. Embarrassment, for one, at the fact that he knew of your dirty secrets regarding him. Anger at how casually he was airing this information. A strange warmth, as well, at how he teased you. You should've been screaming at him, at twisting this around on him, but you couldn't. 

"I'm sorry," you managed to squeak out, eyes dropping to your feet in shame. 

Leon just hummed in response, clearly not in dire need of an apology. In fact, he looked rather unfazed, like it was no problem for him at all.

"If you want to apologize, you can bring your little ass over here. Sit down, pervert."

"I don't know why you're acting so fidgety about this. You give it up to dad all the time, what's so different about me?"

Fuck. Leon really knew everything about you. This entire night was like having someone read your diary out loud to you, hearing every 'secret' you thought you had kept so well. 

"Shut up," you said, eyes clenched shut tightly as Leon curled his fingers up against your g-spot again. You bit back the urge to whine or moan. With how much he was teasing you, you didn't feel that he deserved the satisfaction. 

"Wonder what everyone would think. Daddy's good girl is good for more than she lets on, huh? Bet everyone already knows. There's no way a girl like you hasn't been taken before. Ain't a man on earth who wouldn't try it, y'know?"

You hated how that made you tighten around his fingers. Was that really what made you cum? Your brother calling you rapeable? The entire situation was so far out of your wildest imagination. A far cry from what the other girls he entertained had experienced, you were sure of that. 

Or, maybe, the way that he let your face upwards was what did it for you. Last you remembered, the rule was pretty girls faced up, ugly girls got flipped. Guess that counts for something. 

"I'm real fascinated by your pussy," Leon said after a few moments of silence. He was sitting between your legs, cock sprung free from his boxers as he kept his fingers plugged into your hole. He watched as your hole continued to kick and squeeze over his two digits. 

"I can tell. You won't stop lookin' at it," you mumbled, trying and failing to prop yourself up on your palms. 

"Not what I meant. Just meant it's pretty."

You don't know why you blushed at such a meaningless, near-objectifying compliment. A small part of you said that if Leon had seen so many in his life, and he said yours was pretty, then surely that meant something. You felt honored, in a weird way. 

"Bet it'll be even tighter around my cock."

"What? No, no, we can't do that, Leon," you said quickly, pulling away from his finger with a squelch. You tried to pull your panties up, but he stopped you. 

"Who says?"

You thought about it. You wanted it, sure. Really bad, actually. So, who says? Who said that you couldn't take a brief pause from chastity? You quickly told yourself what you said each time your father got a little too drunk a little too late a night and missed your mother a little too much. 

"Just be gentle," you said, exactly how you would on the nights where you looked a little too much like your mother. 

"Don't worry."

You expected to feel his cock swab against your folds. You expected to feel the eerily familiar pinch and stretch of being penetrated, but it didn't come. Your walls clenched almost eagerly around nothing. 

Instead, your eyes widened in shock at the feeling of a finger trailing around your asshole. Leon aimed his head forward and spat a fat glob onto your rim, rubbing it around to coat your hole. 

"Wait— Leon! Don't do that," you whined, feeling him finger sink in and stretch the ring of muscle. 

"You aren't a true-virgin anywhere else, sis. I wanna pop this cherry before someone gets to it before I do."

God, he was cruel. What was crueler was the way he prodded another finger into your hole like it was nothing. At least he had the awareness to spit again, coating the middles of his fingers in an attempt to ease the pain in your end. It worked, as well as spit could. 

His head dipped down and his tongue latched to your clit, giving it a few purposeful sucks before pressing a kiss to it too, piercing eyes looking at you from between your thighs. 

"Besides, anal doesn't really count, right? Isn't that what all you pure-not-so-pure girls say?"