#did you remember to put penis on the shopping list

[mothshrub]

I'm bilingual, so every time someone would mention penne pasta I'd close my eyes and send up a prayer that was actually a fast tracked complaint asking god why italians decided to name the tube pasta with the same word that means 'penis' in spanish, even if it meant something different in italian probably.

Then I looked it up, and now I ask why italians gave it the italian word for penis too

[ancuninfiles]

Lithium Pt. 4

Screenshot by @lavendarr00

9.3k words - F/M - Astarion x F! Durge - 18+

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence.

Summary: Astarion nearly walks in on Ronnie during a very private moment. Mortified, Ronnie throws her toy under a pillow, pulling up her pants and… letting him into her apartment, as he's found a better way to restrain her this time.

Oh... and Ronnie makes Astarion watch Twilight: New Moon

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

Tags: smut, AU modern setting in London UK, mental illness, p in v sex, creampie, cunnilingus, shibari, bondage, TW domestic violence (not with Astarion and Ronnie), roleplay, dirty-talk

MASTERLIST (Other works and chapters)

Read on AO3 for full tag list and proper formatting (recommended)

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

Beginning notes: CONTENT WARNING for this chapter, but Astarion will always be a softie :3 I promise.

9.3k words. Like Comfort™, This one has been sitting in my files—over 90% done—for a long time. I guess sometimes I just agonize over how to finish a chapter... it's like... my motif or something LOL.

I really got my Gonzo on with the beginning of this chapter. I was ✧*̥˚𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯' 𝘪𝘵˚*̥✧...

Anyways, to the few people who like to read fucked up shit like this, enjoy <3.

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒: 𝐀 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭

꧁꧂

The dildo: an object shaped like an erect penis used for sexual stimulation—according to the Oxford Dictionary. 

—Boring, basically useless phallus. Does nothing. 

   —Good for nothing. 

      —Takes thirty minutes to get me off; If I do at all.

   —Fucking sucks. 

—Waste of my Godsdamned time.

...

Jen had taken Ronnie to a sex shop when she first got together with Alfira, suggesting it would "spice things up". However, the extra "spiciness" became unnecessary once Alfira’s trachea nearly collapsed in Ronnie’s grip.

It happened in Jen's bed, the morning after one of her parties. While Jen was making breakfast, Alfira and Ronnie had taken over her bed. They'd been intimate before—always at Jen’s place. Although they weren't exclusive, their relationship was certainly developing. At that time, Ronnie had only ever been a danger to herself—her violent outbursts occurring solely in the privacy of her own flat. She didn't yet know what she was capable of.

From what Ronnie could recall of the incident, one moment she was giving head, and the next, she was on the floor of Jen's bedroom while Jen tried to calm Alfira down.

Apparently, Ronnie had straddled Alfira and was attempting to strangle her to death—her hands like a vice on her lover's neck. Alfira had been screaming, calling for help until her throat was seized. Jen barged in at the perfect time, put Ronnie in a headlock, and dragged her off Alfira.

Jen did the damage control—she let Alfira know that nobody would ever believe her and that if she told anyone, she would never be allowed at her house again. Shortly after that, Alfira was completely excommunicated from their “friend group"—if you could even call it that.

And it was true that nobody would've believed her. Ronnie was known to be a pacifist, even standing back, unable to form words and frozen in place as she watched Jen get into fights. Jen always said it was better that way so that Ronnie wouldn't get hurt.

Since that day, she hadn’t seen Alfira— hadn’t been able to apologise, get closure, or make amends. Nothing . She knew Jen was only trying to protect her, but the rot in Ronnie's stomach grew tenfold that day; not only from discovering the boundlessness of her violent ailment but also from the guilt of what she’d just done.

Remembering such things didn't aid in Ronnie's climax—or lack thereof. 

—Distractions

—So many distractions.

So she pulled the phallus from her top drawer, eyeing it with scepticism, knowing it would bring back bad memories. 

However, in it went.

It was a wretched pink silicone thing—a “rabbit” or something of that nature. Press a button, and it tickled the outside and undulated on the inside; both futile operations if you're too anxious to get off

—Fuck.

Trying to cum was a regular occurrence for Ronnie—at least once a week. She didn't care for porn—it was all made for men, so she relied on her own broken imagination.

Lately, her imagination brought her to Astarion; but with the thoughts of Astarion came the shame of wanting him, and, subsequently, the knowing that she'd never have him.

The cycle would repeat in circuits of two minutes or so, on and on for thirty minutes until she gave up or fruitlessly orgasmed on the wretched, pink, silicone phallus.

—Useless.

Not like sex is important, anyway. Sure, it felt good.

Well...

It felt great; but was it necessary? Certainly not.

Especially in regards to friendship—and she and Astarion were just friends… Barely friends.

—Just met.

   —Wretched friends.

      —Just kill me, already.

—Anyways...

Resisting the nymph would prove challenging; thankfully, it's extremely responsive to “no” and “stop”. 

But, likely, also very responsive to “fuck me” and “kiss me” and “spank me” and—

—Kill me... Maybe not that one...

Of course, Ronnie knew she was attractive, but her naked form was disfigured with jagged, protruding scars all over. She felt like a monster—her beleaguered skin only matching the sickness within.

Nothing a long-sleeved shirt and leggings couldn't hide—that is until you're spread open. Maybe then, the darkness would help, but eyes adjust eventually, and Ronnie would only be lying to herself if she thought otherwise.

She felt ill, her stomach lurching at times by simply staring at her own reflection. Other people surely would feel the same. The only reason she’d felt so comfortable being nude around Alfira was because Alfira has similar scars.

Yet, Astarion had seen her nude form and...

reverence, every time. Washing her like an expensive car, stitching her like a cherished doll, and touching her as if—

... as if she mattered to him, God knows why.

Well... maybe it was because he wanted her to kill his boss—however that would go down, she wasn’t sure.

She got the impression that he wanted to teach her how to win—how to cheat at poker in exchange for her assistance… as if she could control it. As if she wanted to “bask in gore” as he did.

—Gods... what a freak.

There are limitations to what a friend would do. Ronnie might kill for Jen if she asked—if she needed her to...

Jen would kill for Ronnie—without a doubt, or a second thought. That's what friends do—that's what Jen says.

But to build a friendship based on murder? Well... that was—

... different, to say the least. She'd come close before—to murder—but never succeeded. She never wanted to succeed.

She wanted a break: a drink.

꧁꧂

Movie night at Jen's place was the day after Friday afterparties, where Jen would invite some close friends to watch cheesy classics, horror, and comedy—but mostly horror.

Nocturne would sit on the couch with Jen and Wyll. Sometimes, others would join—the flatmates—but Ronnie sat in her own seat, away from the fray of intimacy, not speaking to anyone.

The movie night-goers were accustomed to this. They let her watch quietly in the corner because they were nice people —respectful adults. Jen wouldn't have it any other way, of course, lest they wish to be tossed in the teeming rain on their arses.

And so they sat with the TV as the only light source, eating popcorn and drinking vodka straight or mixed with anything.

A proper Saturday night—in recovery from Friday night. Jen's hand-me-down velvet chair more than sufficed as a routine seat. Nag champa incense burned on the coffee table, and tarot cards might be read later, as Jen was an avid believer in their prophecy.

This night’s movie was Twilight: a supposed romance about a vampire and a teenage girl who fall hopelessly in love with one another.

Bella, the main character, moved from Arizona to Washington to live with her dad in a small town called Forks. Shortly after, she met Edward, the aforementioned vampire who happens to sparkle in the sunlight.

Bella's eyes lit up upon seeing his glittering form, but Edward recoiled in shame at her admiration. “This is the skin of a killer, Bella,” he said.

Everyone in the room giggled when he said that, and Ronnie joined in the joviality, realising that it was indeed a very silly interaction between the two characters, considering the inoffensiveness of sparkles.

At one point, Edward seemingly teleported into Bella’s room where he watched her sleep, to which Wyll said, “That's just not right.”

It was discomforting to watch the choked-up vampire talk about how he wanted to kill Bella... just because he thought she was hot? And because he couldn't read her mind like he could with everyone else?

Perhaps he confused lust with hunger somewhere down the line. To Ronnie, craving chips felt quite different from horniness. However, they allegedly abstained from sex until marriage in the penultimate movie because Edward was too afraid of hurting Bella while shagging.

—Relatable. But as if marriage would make him less dangerous.

It could have made more sense, and the story could have been better, but Ronnie actually enjoyed it overall.

How wonderful it would be to be lifted from your mundane reality by a romance with a supernatural creature. Also, she related to Edward in the way that she, too, felt like a monster—always on edge, worried about being a danger to others.

That night, she slept in the spandrel as usual, only to be woken by the sound of plates smashing in the kitchen. Lae'zel—Jen's girlfriend—had stayed over, and their relationship was tumultuous, to say the least.

At times, they would almost seem like the perfect couple. Other times, however, they were at dire odds, and Lae'zel would hurt Jen in a myriad of ways.

“You think you're such a princess because Vic takes care of you. Some of us have experienced real hardship,” Lae'zel would say, but it was untrue.

Jen had been kicked out plenty of times, and she'd had to fuck for a place to rest her head at night. Vic was anything but merciful when it came to Jen, and it didn't help that she was her landlord, her boss, and a huge philanthropist to the hospital where her dad stayed.

Vic had kicked Jen out for a slew of unjust reasons, those being:

Not paying rent on time, but Vic hadn't sent Jen's pay that month.

Not cleaning up after her disgusting flatmates.

Jen struggling with addiction.

The list goes on, truly. Unfortunately, it was after these bouts of verbal and physical violence perpetrated by Vic and Lae'zel that Jen would spiral further into substance abuse. Ronnie had seen it many times—where Vic would leave after letting Jen know how “worthless” she was, or Lae'zel would slam the door after claiming that it was “over”; though she would always be back within a week with a box of cheap chocolates, apologising and claiming that she'd change.

“I love you to death,” Lae'zel would ominously exclaim, as if she'd be the one to end Jen.

Ronnie knew the look on Jen's face too well by this point—the pursed lips and wet eyes. Surely, her stoicism was crushing her throat. But there was no stopping her in her ascent to her bedroom, where she'd lock the door behind Ronnie, unwilling to accept any comforts—the type that she'd consistently given Ronnie. No , she'd dig her stash from under her bed and get to work, meaning: get as fucked up as needed to numb herself.

It often ended in Nox having to knock the door down, lest Jen drown in her own vomit or overdose on ketamine or whathaveyou. Vic and Lae'zel weren't aware of Jen's fragile disposition—or, at least it didn't seem that way, considering their unrelenting cruelty towards her. Jen would never tell them about what she'd done after they’d stormed out—it'd probably not make a difference, anyway.

Ronnie would wait outside Jen’s door, leaning her back on it as she sat on the ground. “Jen,” Ronnie would say, not knowing what to offer other than her presence. “Please, Jen.”

Jen would not respond. All Ronnie could hear were the rustling of bags, sounds of nasal insufflation, or the sharp exhales after swigs of liquor.

Narcan was kept in the "House of Grief” and it'd been used on Jen before. She always acted resentful when the ambulance showed, metaphorically pushing everyone away because she thought herself deceitful enough to make her friends believe that she was a cunt, after all. To which they would retort with a “nice try” sort of attitude.

— As if losing Jen: my cunt friend would be easier than losing Jen: my friend.

When she'd get out of the hospital, she'd essentially pretend that nothing ever happened—life went on like normal, and “I'm fine” became her two favourite words in the English language.

Cliché.

꧁꧂

Ronnie sat on her shabby couch, scrolling and scrolling. It was a Monday night, and she'd had the day off work. She'd prepped her meals, stretched, exercised, and cleaned her flat—it always becomes a wreck after a few days, but she usually manages to tidy once a week.

Behind the couch was the chipping-white-paint-covered beam and stool, then a blank space, then the kitchen where the ceiling light dimly illuminated almost the entirety of her basement flat, except for her bedroom and bathroom.

The leak dripped, and the mould on it grew every day. Ronnie wanted to get it fixed, but then she'd be alone with the handyman in her flat: a terrible idea, considering her history of violence.

It had been almost two weeks since the tavern and, of course, no sign of Astarion. Maybe he'd changed his mind about her, or maybe he simply got bored.

Ronnie… missed him. They never exchanged numbers, as neither Astarion nor Ronnie brought it up. She would have thought that he'd leave a piece of paper with it written down for her to see when she woke up at the tavern, at least, but no. Nothing . She thought it might be better that way because if she hadn’t scared him away yet with her problems, she'd surely scare him away with her eagerness. She'd have to make a constant effort to text him no more than once a day—at most.

Since the events at the tavern, Astarion had been on her mind more than was justifiable. It bordered on entirely obsessive—obsessed with countering the lustful thoughts, contemplating the meanings behind his words. What was the deal with his boss—was he some sort of mobster? And Astarion—what part did he really play in all of this?

Over the past two weeks, she had likely spent hours staring in her bathroom mirror, admiring her wound, pulled tight like a corset—although not too tight, of course. She would examine it up and down and run her fingers along the sides, feeling the slight burn of her swollen tissue. It felt almost as if the dissolving thread was Astarion himself, diving through her laceration and holding it together. She imagined herself tearing it open and reaching for her heart through her ribcage, handing it to him like a cat with a dead bird at his doorstep.

And then there was the fourteen hundred pounds he'd given her—she hadn’t spent it yet. She didn't know what to do with it.

—Maybe something for Jen.

Jen needed a new laptop—she was always complaining about hers glitching out, freezing, and crashing. So Ronnie browsed the web in search of just that.

It was amazing—the type of laptops one could buy with fourteen hundred pounds; but what brand would she want? Would she want a large screen or something more compact?

— Hmm... I'm bored.

But, out of her periphery starred the wretched, pink phallus—the torturous, useless thing.

Though; useless as it was, Ronnie sought to give it another go—not accepting total defeat just yet.

So she sat up, pulled down her flannelette pyjama trousers, grabbed the thing off the coffee table, hoisted her knees up, and got to work. Facing the black TV screen, she closed her eyes to avoid visual distractions, mainly her scars.

She tried thinking—imagining ideas of what ought to get her off. 

A beautiful woman above her, glistening all over with dexterous fingers. Or maybe a man with a skilled tongue, or maybe—

—Alfira.

...

No. She would stay focused.

The man with the skilled tongue is... doing things with his tongue and he is hot...

— No.

— I need to get groceries. I hate the grocery shop. Maybe I can just use some of Astarion's money to have them delivered.

—Astarion is hot.

— No. I can't think of him while I'm doing this.

—But he...

Ronnie remembered vividly their first night together, when he'd been inside and teased her so. What if he'd continued? What if things went further? They both could have finished—finished with each other. On each other, in—

She was so close. She allowed herself to imagine that maybe he was right there—inside her. She tried picturing his body, and the way his muscles would ripple with the smallest movements—with each thrust, perhaps.

How his hair would be damp with sweat and his expression— oh, his expression would be sinfully picturesque. It would be a face one would never catch him making except for in the moments before rapture. 

And his sounds—his little grunts of pleasure.

“You take me so well, Ronnie,” he'd say. “Such a good girl, all for me.”

It was the closest she’d been in weeks—right on the precipice—

*Knock-knock-knock*

…

She panicked, throwing the thing under a pillow on her couch and hastily pulling on her trousers.

—Who would be knocking on my door at eleven at night?

She tiptoed to the spyhole in her door, making sure not to be too noisy in case she didn't want to answer.

But it was Astarion, standing and waiting patiently with a bag on his wrist and his hands in his pockets. His hard chest was evident under his buttoned-up shirt.

Her face reddened; it couldn't have been worse timing for him to show up—or better timing, depending on how she looked at it. Maybe he could cuff her to the pole and take her on the floor— NO.

She couldn't. What if she lost her wits amid a shag? It would be humiliating for her.

—But he said he would wait there for me—wait for it to be over.

Even still, was that enough insurance? No. She thought she'd better be safe than sorry.

Elated, Ronnie opened the door to look at him through the chain lock, but she suddenly became very aware of how plain and makeupless she was, so she bit the inside of her cheek to ground herself.

“Astarion!” she started, sounding much more eager than she'd meant to. “Hi. What are you doing here?” She smiled, lowering her pitch.

He wore a dress suit again, but this time, with an unbuttoned raincoat. Dressed nicely, as always.

His pocketed hands drew Ronnie's eyes lower to where his narrow hips were, but her gaze didn't linger there for more than a moment.

He looked relieved. “ Ah —finally. I've been coming here almost every night looking for you,” he said. “ Er —may I come in?”

—He's been looking for me? Oh my Gods, yes. I missed you, I missed you, I missed you so much.

Ronnie cleared her throat. “ Ahem —do you have handcuffs?”

Astarion held up his bag. “Yes, I have all the fixings.” He grinned roguishly.

Ronnie wanted to scream into her pillow and punch her mattress a hundred times or more. She had an unignorable rising feeling in her chest that reverberated through her arms—a feeling she knew was bound to make her stupid. What could he possibly mean by “ all the fixings”? Had he brought treats? Games? Gifts? She had to know.

Reeling herself in, she responded coolly, “Right. So the protocol is you have to cuff me to the beam immediately as soon as you come in. That always has to be our number one priority. Yeah?”

Astarion gave a curt bow. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Are you ready?”

“Very.”

—I hate you, you stupid freak.

   —I hate how you make me feel.

—Why do you make me feel like this?

Ronnie gritted her teeth. “Set.”

Astarion huffed a laugh, throwing his head back—which exposed his perfect smile—but ultimately, he bent his knees in a playful battle stance.

“Go.”

Ronnie slammed her door shut and unhooked her chain lock. Astarion opened the door before she could open it for him herself, and she giddily ran to the stool that was always at her pole. He closed the door and laughed mirthfully, approaching her already. She tried to suppress a grin as he ran up and hooked her cuffs on behind her in one swift movement.

Ronnie tugged to test her restraints, and she sighed happily, feeling the stability they provided as Astarion hung his coat on her coat hooks and rolled up his sleeves.

Astarion stood in front of her, arms crossed with his bag on the ground beside him, looking awfully satisfied and smelling delicious. She wanted to bite him, only softly to steal a salty taste... or to immobilise him. She scrunched her features, shooing away the intrusive fantasy.

“Have I ever told you how good you look when you're helpless?” Astarion joked.

Ronnie blushed, averting her gaze from the handsome man. “Whatever. You can quit the evil act. I know you're not going to hurt me,” she spat; although, she wanted him to hurt her—only a little. And she knew he would if she asked.

“ Oh? But why would I do that when you clearly respond to it so well,” he teased with a devious and toothy grin. She wondered how much of her bullshit he could see straight through.

Ronnie chuckled, craning her head back. “What did you come here for, anyway?” He'd been looking for her. It had to be important. Or maybe she was important. Or... what she was capable of. Nevertheless, he was there—right where she wanted him, or close. She preferred him to be closer. But she wouldn't—she wouldn't cave.

He held his chin in thought for a few moments. “To see you,” he started, “and I suppose to teach you a few little tricks—using sleight of hand with card games.” His voice was smooth but raspy, almost like the sound of a bowling ball rolling towards its pins.

“Oh... that’s calm. Okay.” She nodded, looking at his feet.

She should have guessed that he'd only come to continue their “business”—not to simply hang out. It might make it easier to keep it in her pants, but his flirtatious remarks were tugging at her strings already. She was thankful that he'd shown up with a purpose, after all. And she was thankful that he hadn't abandoned her—that he'd been looking for her, even.

She never thought someone could want her after knowing what she was capable of, or what her body looked like—save for Alfira, but it was hard to come by someone with morals as pure as hers. 

He'd called her visage “ominous.” Shouldn't that have meant that he was repulsed? But he still made advances on her after sharing his derogatory and unwanted opinion—maybe he liked “ominous.”

“Also, I've thought of some solutions to the mobility issues that would arise given our use of handcuffs.” He put one hand on his hip, and all of his weight on one leg as he feigned disinterest, looking at his nails. “Although the cuffs are the most convenient, they didn't seem like the most... practical, nor the most comfortable idea.”

Ronnie's lips parted, her eyes sparkling with intrigue, or perhaps enamourment at his thoughtful consideration.

“Do you want to see what I've come up with?” he asked, pulling his phone from his pocket.

She bit her inner lip. “Yeah, sure,” she drawled, unsure of exactly how much gratitude to display, as she had to avoid leading him on.

He fussed with his phone for a moment and then showed Ronnie an image of a mannequin that had been intricately tied around its torso and waist. It looked beautiful, but it also looked quite lewd, somehow.

“This is called ‘shibari’. It's an ancient Japanese roping technique that has been historically used on prisoners. Now, however, people primarily use it for art and— er ... sex, to be quite honest,” he said, briefly chuckling after his statement.

Cheeks flushing, Ronnie kept her gaze on the screen as he swiped to another picture of a mannequin tied similarly, but this time the rope extended through the groin.

“Of course, some of these are a bit more... salacious than others, but I thought I'd give you options. Given your circumstance, it only seemed fair.”

He swiped to the next image, this time showing the back of a mannequin with its arms fastened straight vertically, adorned with knots along their length. It looked much more comfortable than the handcuffs.

“Um... is this okay?” Ronnie asked, rubbing her knees together nervously. She couldn't quell the dirty images in her mind of her tied up—naked and displayed—free for him to touch in whatever way he pleased.

“What, tying you up? Sure! It's perfectly fine— er ... that is, if you want to, of course.” He tilted his head, smiling awkwardly.

—This doesn't have to be sexual. He said it was originally used with prisoners. I am just being tied like a prisoner, she justified to herself.

“ Um ... we—we can try,” Ronnie stammered.

—Fuck. Now I'm stuttering? Stupid.

“Just don't make it weird, please,” she added, only partially confident that she would be able to rein herself in. She would have to count on him.

“ Me? ‘Make it weird’?” He scoffed. “Why, I would never,” he said, frowning disingenuously.

“Astarion... I need your help with this,” she tried her best to sound serious. She knew that shagging him would be wholly reckless—unfair to both of them, given her condition.

“Relax! I'm only joking. Ugh —you’re no fun,” he teased. “ So ... which one would you like?” Astarion asked.

Ronnie squinted at his screen as he flipped through the carousel of pictures, looking for the one that looked the least perverted.

One, in particular, caught her eye: a harness that only hugged the torso and shoulders without riding between the breasts or groin. It was perfect and safer than the handcuffs for both parties involved. She doubted that she'd be able to free herself of the binding, and she wouldn't be able to dislocate her wrists in it either. Additionally, it looked like a comfortable setup, and she'd even be able to traverse a portion of her flat—as much as the rope connecting her to the pole would allow.

“Can we do that one?” she asked.

Astarion looked at his phone. “Of course. This one should be quite easy, actually,” he exclaimed, squatting to grab a red rope from his bag. “Could you stand, please?”

“ Oh —yes, of course,” Ronnie said, standing and moving around the pole—away from her stool.

He unravelled the rope and then folded it in half to find the middle. Then he began his wrapping and knotting. He wrapped above her shoulders and around her ribs, honed into his work as he was when he'd stitched her.

His brows knitted together and he bit his bottom lip while he focused, pulling the rope through the loops made around her shoulders as it brushed against the fabric of her loose cropped t-shirt. Ronnie held her breath almost the entire time, as each brush of his tender digits made her internally recoil in shame.

Next, he moved to her back, fastening her arms to the harness and immobilising them. The binding felt more secure than the cuffs, but without the discomfort.

As he was finishing up, Ronnie had a fleeting recollection of what she’d been doing just before he came in—what she'd been thinking about. But she gritted her teeth and attempted to relinquish the thoughts.

It was a consistent effort, in the silence, though. She thought she might have more luck once he began his lesson.

To be fair, Ronnie didn't really care about learning how to cheat at poker, but he seemed like he wanted to show her, and she was simply happy to spend time with him at this point—she wasn't going to be picky when genuine friendships were so difficult for her to come by.

Once he bound from her shoulders to her elbows, he unlocked the handcuffs and then proceeded to tie his last knots along her upper limbs. Then, he pulled a separate rope from his bag and stuck his fingers under one of the loops in the middle of her back, inadvertently jostling Ronnie and consequently gripping her arm to steady her. She must have been hot because his hand was cool against her skin, and she wondered if she was red like the ogre at the tavern.

He fed the second rope through her harness and knotted it to her before doing the same with the other end on the pole.

At last, she was free of his touch, grateful for the chance to create some distance between them.

Astarion stood in front of Ronnie with his hands on his hips. “All done, safe and secure. You’re free to walk about, but the second rope is only about three metres long. It’s safest to keep it that way.”

Ronnie tugged at her restraints as hard as she could, but they didn’t budge. She walked until the rope connecting her to the pole was taut, then leaned her entire body weight on it, giggling as she balanced on her toes at a forty-five-degree angle.

She felt a slight tug and looked back to find Astarion pulling at the rope towards the beam, also testing its strength.

“As I thought, it won’t come undone easily,” he said, letting go of the rope.

“How’d you learn how to do this?” Ronnie asked as she straightened up.

Astarion paused for a moment, walking around to the sofa with his bag in hand. “Let’s not exhume the past tonight, eh?” He plopped onto the sofa, awfully close to the pillow under which the thing was hidden, causing Ronnie to gasp sharply through her nose.

When it came to exhuming the past, she could do without revisiting what she’d been doing immediately before Astarion arrived. She really ought to have put away the thing before letting Astarion in, but she’d been too distracted by his presence, and she could all but hope she wouldn’t have to pay for that mistake.

She climbed over the back of her sofa in her bare feet and settled on the opposite end from Astarion, feeling the plush cushion beneath her.

He pulled out a deck of cards and began to shuffle, the cards snapping crisply between his fingers. “The first thing is that, of course, you’ll need to know where the cards are in the deck.” He set the deck on the table and flicked the corner up with his thumb, exposing each card for a split second. “That’s how much time you have to take in the contents of the deck. Now—if I’m looking for the Jack of Spades, I can find it right here.” He lifted a portion of the deck and showed Ronnie the card at the bottom of his chosen section—it was the Jack of Spades. “You’ll need to learn the weight of the cards—how ten cards feel versus... twenty-two cards, and so on.”

Ronnie watched him put the deck back together and riffle the cards, her eyes drawn to the way his fingers moved deftly, the muscles in his forearms flexing with each gesture. There was something hypnotic about his movements—a grace that made everything he did look effortless. She imagined those hands on her skin, the same dexterity applied to tracing lines along her body.

He continued shuffling in a myriad of ways, his voice a low murmur. “The most important part, when you’re first starting, is to wait for an opening—wait until your opponent’s eyes are busy. That’s why you’ll begin with Heads-up—one-on-one poker—”

Ronnie could hear the cadence of his words, but her focus was on his lithe fingers, the way they worked through the cards with such precision. His fingernails, perfectly manicured, danced across the deck, and she wondered what those fingers would feel like in her mouth.

“Ronnie?” His voice snapped her from her trance, and she realized he’d stopped talking and she’d been staring at his hands.

She shook her head, trying to clear the haze. “Sorry. I’m just—distracted. Do you think we could maybe watch a movie instead, tonight?” she asked, giving him a tense smile and hoping he didn’t notice the flush creeping up her neck. Though; the mischievous glint in his eye and his roguish grin informed Ronnie that he knew exactly what he was doing to her, and that caused her to stir slightly in her spot.

“If that's what you'd prefer.” He shuffled the cards one last time before placing them in the box and away in his bag. He retrieved the remote from the coffee table and switched on the TV, navigating to the built-in streaming service.

Ronnie hung her head in relief before looking at the list of recommended shows and movies. He flipped through them, witnessing her embarrassing stack of dating shows under the “Continue watching” section. Tensing, she held her breath, but he didn’t seem phased by her taste in media. She could've been sure that he’d tease her about it, but he didn’t say a word.

One movie in particular caught her eye: New Moon, the sequel to Twilight. Her eyes widened with excitement. “ Oh! Can we watch New Moon?” she asked.

“I remember hearing about this one a decade ago. It’s about werewolves and vampires, correct? Infamous for its mawkishness?” Astarion asked.

“Yes! Exactly!” She bounced excitedly. “I just watched the first one at Jen’s not that long ago.”

“ Hm— I’ll entertain this, sure. We have to change it if it's boring, though,” he said, clicking on the movie and then getting up to flick her kitchen light off before returning to his spot on the couch.

“Yes! Okay, I'm so excited. I've never seen it before.” She shimmied, bringing her knees to her chest.

Ronnie watched raptly as the opening scene began with Bella in a forest clearing with Edward. They approached an elderly woman, only to find out she was Bella’s reflection. Glancing at Astarion, she saw his brows knit together in a frown, clearly already entranced by the film.

He was… cute —the way he seemed utterly intrigued.

“He can go in the sun? He's sparkling,” Astarion asked.

“Yeah. He's all bitter about it, as well—haha,” Ronnie giggled.

“Bitter? Gods . You think he would be grateful that he doesn't burn to ash.”

Bella and Edward were standing together in the school parking lot when Edward said: “Jacob's here,” before Jacob was within eyesight.

“How did he know that Jacob was there?” Astarion asked.

“He can read minds.”

“Terrifying.”

“Except for Bella's, but Alice can tell the future, and Jasper is always hungry and constipated-looking,” Ronnie exclaimed.

Bella was sitting at the back of the class watching Romeo and Juliette with Edward. They were casually talking about the movie when Edward—out of the blue—exclaimed that he envies Romeo because he committed suicide.

“He envies Romeo because he killed himself? Edward is a fool,” Astarion said, frowning.

“You're granted immortality, and you can walk in the sun, but you spend your days in high school around a bunch of teenagers? Their master must be some sort of eccentric. Though, it beats rotting away in a kennel.” Astarion seemed personally offended by this premise, causing Ronnie to stifle a giggle.

“Those ‘Volturi’ seem like awful creatures. Quite ugly, as well,” Astarion said, and Ronnie enjoyed his commentary on the movie—keeping her entertained.

Jasper—the constipated one—became feral over Bella's papercut. In response, Edward pushed Bella away from him to protect her, but she flew into a table, injuring herself further. Alice had to escort Jasper away.

“ Oh —I like this movie,” Astarion exclaimed, smirking.

—Of course he would say that during the most chaotic scene, Ronnie thought.

Carlisle—the “father”—stitched Bella's wounds, and he mentioned to Bella that he believed he was “damned” due to his vampiric condition.

“‘Damned’? These vampires are free of a master, they live in a comfortable abode, they can walk in the sun, and they think they are ‘damned’? Ridiculous,” Astarion said.

“I know. It's a little silly, but I guess I understand if they're depressed,” Ronnie added.

“Edward is in love with this beautiful young lady, and he refuses to change her? The stupidity,” Astarion spat.

A scene played where Edward breaks up with Bella in the woods because he's moving away. Bella said: “I'm coming,” to which Edward responded: “I don't want you to come.”

Astarion huffed a chuckle. “I would never not let you come, Ronnie.”

“Sod off.”

As a result of Edward's abandonment, Bella fell into a deep depression, and a scene played where she was staring out of her bedroom window as the months passed by.

“Is this what you do when I'm not around?” Astarion asked, grinning.

“No.”

“I'm hurt,” he said, grabbing his chest in mock offence.

Bella began spending more time with Jacob after experiencing a hallucination of Edward’s presence while riding on the back of a stranger's motorcycle. She realised there might be a link between the hallucination and engaging in life-risking behaviour, so she decided to take advantage of Jacob’s skills as a mechanic. Bella brought him two dirt bikes from the scrapyard, and Jacob helped her fix them. She rode one of the bikes intending to induce the same “Edward hallucination.” While it worked, the distraction caused her to crash the bike and smash her head against a rock.

“He's clearly reinforcing Bella's dangerous behaviour. How does he not see this?” Astarion protested.

The movie continued, showing Bella spending even more time with Jacob, their friendship nearly approaching romantic territory.

“This Jacob boy isn't half-bad,” Astarion said. But when Jacob started lashing out towards Bella and her friends, Astarion changed his mind. “Nevermind. I take back what I said about him earlier.”

Eventually, the plot dragged on and Astarion became frustrated. “There are no vampires in this movie!” he complained, shifting his position on the couch and sitting on the pillow.

The moment he descended on the pillow, it began to vibrate—or rather, the thing began to vibrate under it.

Mortified, Ronnie's eyes widened and she held her breath as Astarion half-stood to search for the source of the buzzing beneath him.

“Wait!” she raised her voice in a panic.

He stood, crouching in front of the couch. “Sorry, I'm just trying to figure out where that sound is coming from. I can rewind in a second, don't you worry. I—” He froze, lifting the pillow to find her toy undulating beneath it. “Oh—I see.” His face of confusion quickly warped into one of mischief at his discovery. 

Grinning, he lifted the phallus and inspected it before switching it off. “We've been very naughty, today—haven't we?” His head was unmoving but his conniving stare landed on Ronnie's face. He smiled, almost strategically so—or that's how it felt. 

He looked away only to pause the movie—a freeze frame of Bella.

Ronnie sat back in horror, watching him examine it . If it wasn't for her restraints, she would've snatched it from him already. Blushing, she frowned, gritting her teeth as her heart raced with embarrassment. 

There was no going back now—not since he'd seen it . If she could've erased it from his mind like her amnesia, she would've.

She hadn’t spent all that much time with Astarion yet, but she already surmised a few of his consistent character traits. 

One: he was an instigator.

Two: he was cunning.

And three: he was opportunistic.

“No,” she denied his allegation, as it was all she could manage in her fragile state of shame—feeling stupid for letting him in; for not putting away her toy properly beforehand.

Her desire crept up on her, its languid grasp much like a boa constrictor. Attempting to ground herself, she shook her head. She knew what was coming next—he wouldn't drop this… wouldn't let her live this down. 

“ Hm ... Good girls don't lie,” he purred, hovering over Ronnie as his shadow cast on her. 

Checkmate.

He had her.

And she felt small under his stare.

“Now—I'm going to give this a little wash, I think, and then I'll be right back.”

Ronnie watched as he waltzed away, past the couch, out of her field of vision, and into the darkness of her kitchen.

Visions of Astarion played in her mind as a needle on vinyl—visions of him “torturing” her with the thing. Her womb throbbed at the idea.

She heard the ominous sound of running water emanating from the kitchen, and then—even more ominously—the footsteps towards her after it stopped.

Astarion—phallus in hand—climbed onto the sofa, facing her. “You must've been in an awful hurry to hide this, considering its location and the remnants that adorned it,” he cooed. “Pray tell—it was within you when I arrived at your door, was it not?”

— How did he...?

Cunning

Opportunistic

Perceptive

Instigator.

Ronnie bit her inner cheek, her brows tensing as she shook her head. Her breath was caught in her chest as her head became weighty on her neck. Instinctively, she laid back, her nape resting on the arm of the couch as she watched him crawl closer, like a feline.

“ Tut tut, Ronnie. You truly are too easy to read, you know,” he teased. “I’ve always wondered: do you think of me when you touch yourself?” 

—Yes, you bastard.

She looked up at him—framed by her thighs—eyes pleading, and excuses stuck on her tongue. 

Her eyes pleaded for mercy—mercy of any breed. All or nothing. But—at this point—she'd prefer the former.

Her thoughts became muddied, snuffing the enervated flames of coherence and obligation.

“Your lips look so pretty when you bite them like that—so... kissable,” he rasped, climbing atop her.

The sudden taste of iron invaded her mouth. She hadn’t realised she was biting her lip—but she’d been biting it hard enough to break skin. 

Ronnie released her lower lip from its toothy restraint, and she saw a flit of something restrained in him when her lip bounced back into place.

The way his palms sunk into the sofa on either side of her made her arch her back expectantly.

He leaned in, and she gasped, feeling his cheekbone fleetingly make contact with hers.

His breath brushed her ear. “You know, Ronnie,” he started, “I wish for you to confide in me—your desires,” he whispered. 

Ronnie's knees neared her shoulders—his hips, hovering inches from hers.

“If it helps, I'll share mine first. Would you like that?” he purred, playing with a lock of her hair.

He rose from her torso, humming low and soft as he watched her, tilting his head condescendingly and sitting on his heels.

And Ronnie felt like something precious was torn from her.

Her skin tingled, yearning for his touch. Astarion's cadence was soothing and his demeanour, benevolent. She let her eyelids fall closed, remembering the safety of his embrace after their first coupling. She'd never felt so cherished before; or at least… not that she could remember.

She wanted it again.

“Tell me,” Ronnie said, her voice trembling with nerves.

“ Hmm... ” He snaked his hand down her shin, leaving sparks in its wake. “I want to roam your body with my touch,” he began. “I want to make you whimper and squirm as I fill you,” he cooed, teasing under her waistband with his fingers. “I want to hear you breathless while I make you come undone.” He splayed his fingers under the hem of her shirt. “Your turn,” he instructed.

Ronnie arched her back, finally finding her breath again as the nerves melted into solace. “I want... your touch,” she whispered. “I want to kiss you again… please ,” she pleaded, rolling her pelvis into his, and—to her delight—finding his hardened length; though, it was imprisoned by his trousers.

Dropping the phallus, he grabbed at her hips and pulled her core to his hardness. “ Mm —there we are. You'll find that I'll reward you for honesty,” he hummed, slotting his fingers under her waistband and pulling her pants off, leaving her fully exposed, scars and all. He leaned into her, caging her in with his elbows. “How innocent of you—to want a kiss; though I'm sure you want more than that,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers as they shared breath.

Ronnie let her lashes flutter shut as she basked in the feeling of his skin—so close to hers. He pressed his forehead into hers—their noses, staggered.

“I'm right, aren't I?” He smooched her experimentally. “You wish to be ravished, don't you?” Teasing, he pecked beside her lips.

Ronnie felt as if her shabby couch had transformed into a cloud as she wrapped her legs around him. Even her disorder felt like a distant axiom, with the way he enveloped her.

“Tell me,” he said, pecking her cheek. “What is it that you truly want?”

Ronnie craned her head forward, capturing his lips, to which he promptly reciprocated. Astarion groaned into her mouth, and she could feel his smile as they kissed. His cunningness was troublesome and inescapable.

She was at a threshold she hadn’t planned to cross with him again, but the safety of her bindings began to feel much like the safety provided by her lithium on the day they’d met—safety that would give consequence to the morrow.

Capitulating, Ronnie pulled from his kiss. “I want…” she breathed, “I want to have sex with you.” She found his lips again, pecking him roughly.

Astarion growled his assent, their lips colliding once more as Ronnie could hear him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers—music to her ears.

Their mouths disconnected with a pop, and Astarion stood to unbutton his shirt. As she'd expected, his body was impeccably toned, and his muscles rippled as he discarded his top on the coffee table.

He slotted his thumbs under his waistband. “What a sight, you are—now that you've given yourself to me, at last,” he teased, relinquishing himself of both his formal trousers and his briefs.

His length sprang free—it was much larger than her meagre toy and it glistened with precum in the television's dim light. She had no recollection of shagging someone with a penis, and, of course, her sexual relationship with Alfira was painfully short-lived. And so, excitation became her, as she laid with her thighs resting on her tummy which bounced ever so slightly as Astarion sat on the couch to pull off his socks.

“You're such a princess, you know?” he teased.

—Princess?

Ronnie tilted her head away, huffing. “ Hmph —I’d be doing more if I wasn't tied up like a... rabid animal.” She scowled.

Astarion threw his head back, chuckling darkly. “That’s not what I meant—and you're tied up like a gift, not a ‘rabid animal’,” he mocked, crawling atop her form. “I'd quite like to unwrap you, my dear.” He tugged at her shirt, easing it through her bindings to crumple just above her breasts. “ Oh —your wound healed beautifully, I see.” He traced his finger beside it, languidly.

“Yeah.” She blushed. “Thanks, again, by the way.”

Astarion quirked up the corner of his mouth as his hands slotted beneath her—one under her back and the other, carding through her hair. He eased her towards him so that her head rested comfortably against the pillow. Consequently, she felt his length brush against her folds. 

“Better?” he asked, peering into her eyes as he caressed her cheek with his thumb.

“Yeah... Thank you,” she said, her eyes, heavy-lidded with desire.

— So courteous.

His face seemed relaxed, except for a barely perceptible intensity in his brow. At last, he descended to her breast with his open maw, flicking her hardened pebble with his tongue. Thumbing her other nipple, he gave her nip a playful bite, causing Ronnie to squeak as he rocked his heavy length between her folds.

He created a trail of small hickies from one breast to the other, thumbing her now-wet nipple. 

Ronnie twirled her pelvis, trying to urge him inwards, but her efforts proved futile.

Groaning, he disconnected from her mound—a string of saliva between them. He kissed her, hungrily sucking on her lower lip and grabbing her waist rough enough to bruise her marred flesh.

Breathless, he pulled away, and Ronnie’s lip bounced back into place. 

“I’m sorry. I seem to be... getting lost in you. Are you okay?” he asked, frantic.

Ronnie welcomed a reasonable level of pain—their first tryst being evidence of that—and his ungentle treatment hadn’t phased her. “I’m good,” she said, attempting a smile to stifle his woes. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” he said loudly before catching himself. “No. I just... need to keep my teeth to myself, that's all,” he scolded himself, looking away.

“ Hm —I don't mind. Don't worry,” she hummed. “I like it.”

He sighed, closing his eyes as he held her waist. He snaked his hands under her bottom, and crouched, lifting her core to his mouth. He relaxed in his position as he began lapping at her clit, sticking a thumb inside her as he licked and held her up with his forearm. 

Sucking on her bud, he removed his thumb, only to replace it with two digits which he pumped into her at a consistent pace. Astarion closed his eyes, his brows furrowing as he feasted on her like a starved man—lewd, wet sounds emanating from his tongue and lips.

Ronnie's thighs tensed as she approached her climax—breathing heavily, pliable in his grasp.

He placed the flat of his tongue on her, working her similarly to her toy, but—of course—better, as it was Astarion. Astarion, who she'd been restraining herself from since after their first coupling—denying herself the pleasure out of trepidation... because she didn't want to hurt him. But, with her wrapped up, he could more than handle her— devour her. 

One last raucous emission—deep from within Astarion's chest—was enough to break the bough, splintering Ronnie into broken cries of release.

She went limp entirely, his fingers still working inside her, and his tongue relenting before he removed his face. "That's it," he murmured, " good girl." He spread his digits apart inside her. "You're going to take my cock so well, Ronnie. You're doing so well," he said, kissing her clit ravenously and making her hips lurch as she panted, overstimulated from her orgasm. 

Chuckling darkly, he let up, grabbing her thighs and parting them as he aligned himself with her weeping nethers. He sunk into her slowly, allowing her to stretch and adjust to his size as his tip hugged her cervix. “See? You were made for me,” he purred, setting a dilatory pace. “ Really. I should have kept you tied up for me to fuck whenever I pleased the day we met—kept you hidden away for my own personal use—my little prisoner,” he rasped, snapping into her. “You would like that, wouldn’t you—to be my cherished fuck slave?” His rutting quickened.

“Yeah,” she whined, picturing herself, his bound and subservient personal whore. Astarion truly had a way of plucking the right strings, as if he knew exactly what would make her sing for him.

Nobody had ever done that before.

He used her hips as leverage, rotating them forward so that her back arched and he could thrust into her at the right angle. “You wish to be mine to fill whenever I want, I know it. You want me to spill inside you and coat your womb with my seed—to be fucked until you’re swollen and sore from my cock,” he rasped.

Eyes wet, Ronnie nodded, messy with perspiration as she cried her assent.

“ Good girl. See what happens when you’re honest?” he praised, sucking his fingers and then dutifully reaching them to rub her clit. 

Ronnie moaned through gritted teeth as she watched him work her, feeling awfully stuffed by his member—so long and wide and pressing up into where she felt it most.

With a snap of his hips, he sheathed himself fully, stilling as he worshipped her bud with a rapidly moving hand. “I want to feel you cum on me, darling. Cum on me, and you’ll get your reward,” he said,  warming his pulsing girth in her channel.

Tears flowed from Ronnie’s eyes, and her muscles flexed as she felt him twitching inside of her. She let go, weeping, watching him choke out an undignified moan as she quivered around him, violently clutching him with her climax.

Astarion squeezed his eyes shut as he finished with her clit, allowing himself to move again. Grabbing the backs of her thighs, he pushed her knees towards her chest, forcing her to fold in half. Watching himself stretch her folds, he would languidly pull out—almost completely, leaving only his tip sheathed—before thrusting back in with punishing snaps of his hips. Ronnie's bound body was no match, as it was forced up with each sloppy pound of his pelvis.

His lips pulled into a satisfied smirk, watching her bounce haplessly. All she could do was take it; it was everything she wanted since she began to crave him. Her body and mind's reaction to his ruthless sexual treatment came as a surprise to her, as she'd only ever been with the kind and gentle or selfish types; or at least, that's all she could recall. 

His grip on her thighs was pressuresome and wild—sure to mark her skin. Her back rubbed against the rough polymer texture of the cheap couch as he slammed into her, his smirk faltered as his breathing became more erratic. 

Again, he slowed. “Does the princess want to be filled with my cum?” he asked, condescendingly. Entering her fully, he began twirling his hips teasingly so that his girth would compress against every bit of her inner walls in a venerated circle. “Honesty, my dear. What have we learned?”

Ronnie felt entirely debauched with her damp, limp body and her humiliating whines. She wanted to get him back for his incessant teasing, but the euphoria was overwhelming. He must’ve been close, she could tell by the way he kept stopping. So she clenched her lower muscles, squeezing him inside her—babbling out a broken cry of agreement as she took her revenge by bestowing pleasure.

As she'd expected, his composure shattered momentarily at that. He began slurring curses, and leaning in—resting his elbows at her sides. Kissing a line from her lips to her neck, he sucked her skin into his mouth. His rhythm picked up—hard and fast as he chased his climax.

Ronnie closed her eyes, tilting her head, and allowing him to ravish. Although he was glistening with sweat, his cologne still whelmed her, relaxing her as he speared her over and over. She flinched when she felt a sharp and sudden pain on her throat, where he was creating hickeys, but it quickly faded. Unbothered, she let him continue, as she loved the feel of his lips and tongue anywhere on her body.

She wished she could wrap her arms around him, embrace him how he’d embraced her, and she mused about doing so the next time they were somewhere less secluded. 

For now, she pressed her legs into his sides as he slammed into her, emptying himself at last. But he was unrelenting with his latch on her throat. Pity, she wanted to see his o-face, but she revelled in the feeling of his churning tongue on her neck.

Fully within her, he muffled a whine on her skin before tearing his maw from her and licking her where he had placed the bruising kiss. “Shit,” he whispered, pumping into her before lifting his torso from hers and admiring their entanglement, frowning and grunting. 

He thrust into her once more before pulling out, covered in their combined fluids. Sitting back, he stared at his mess for a moment, leaning his side on the back of the sofa and quirking a brow. 

“Are you okay, my dear?” he checked in.

And he massaged her knee…

The reverence…

The tenderness…

It felt like… like nothing she’d ever felt before. 

And she wanted it to last forever.

“I’m good, yeah.” She swallowed, nodding with the smallest smile as if she didn’t just experience a drug-like euphoria because of what they’d just done.

She had to be cool… 

She had to be calm…

He hung his sweaty head, shaking it as he laughed. “Do you remember how I told you that there were things I couldn't disclose to you yet?” he said, his voice quiet and benevolent; although you could hear his smile when he spoke. “I seem to have created a situation that requires my transparency.”

꧁꧂

Read Next Chapter>>

[isara0408]

Just wanted to make this Yaku x Horo one short 👀 I'm starting to like this ship. I don't know why. They make an interesting couple.

I might do a +18 one short for them- Idk

"Ugh..."A hangover Horo groaned in pain, having his head laying down on the long kitchen island while sitting on an adjustable height chair. It was Saturday, and it was almost 2 in the afternoon. Horo barely woke up from his slumber. "Here."Kaga spoke, placing a cup of water and a painkiller in front of Horo for him to take for the pounding headache,"This will make you feel better. I'll tell Yaku to make you some food once he returns from grocery shopping."

Horo slowly lifted his head and grabbed the pill. He put it on the back of his tongue before swallowing it with the water. He placed the empty glass cup down,"Thanks..."He mumbled out and leaned against the kitchen island,"What happened last night? I remember we went to the club to drink and relax, but after a few cups, everything became blurry, and I don't remember what happened after."He explained.

"Yeah. We did. You drank too much, though."Kaga grabbed the glass cup and placed it in the sink,"Homu, Yaku, and I had to almost drag you to the car when it was time to go back home."

"Everything was normal. You kept dancing with the women you called 'Hot babes' in the club."Homu responded as she was sitting down on the couch and scrolling through her tablet while Meka was watching a new episode of her mega anime that came out this morning,"Yeah. Oh, and you kissed Yaku."

Horo's body froze at what Meka said and slowly looked back at her,"I did what?"

"You kissed Yaku. I even took a video of it."Meka said and reached out for her phone next to her. She unlocked it and scrolled through her gallery. She lifted her arm to show Horo her phone screen. Horo immediately stood up from his chair and went to Meka's phone. He snatched it and watched the played video.

Meka was right.

In the video, Horo was kissing Yaku rather passionately while Yaku was standing with shock. Yaku's visor had exclamation marks. After a few seconds, Yaku seemed to be kissing him back!

Horo stared at the phone with a blank expression, but deep inside, he was horrified. The video ended, not showing what happened next. Meka snatched her phone back from Horo,"I'm saving this for blackmail."She slid her phone in her pocket to prevent Horo from grabbing it and deleting the video.

"You were really into it."Homu said, having her eyes glued onto her tablet screen,"I was predicting that you two were going to sleep together, but that didn't happen. Either way, you two seemed to enjoy it very much."

"I didn't think you would be attracted to men, Horo."Kaga smiled mischievously on the new information he got of his roommate.

"I'm not."Horo protested, shooting a glare at Kaga.

"Well, that video says the opposite. You two kissed for a good 2 minutes."Kaga smirked widely. Horo groaned in annoyance,"I don't like men. I like women. Tits, virgina, and ass, okay?"

"Now you can add penis on that list too."Meka teased him, having her eyes on the TV screen. "At least you had your first kiss with the person you trust the most."Homu reassured him. Horo covered his face with his hands, being irritated on the situation,"I can't believe this happened. Now, I can't do anything about it."He muttered.

The door opened to reveal Yaku carrying bags full of foods that they needed. Yaku closed the door with his foot and made his way to the kitchen counter. He placed the bags down with a soft smile on his face. He glanced over to spot Horo,"You're awake. I was going to make you food, but it would have been cold by the time you woke up. I'll make you some food real quick -"Yaku stopped himself from continuing once Horo's eyes stared Yaku down,"What?"He asked with question marks on his visor.

"Meka told me what happened between us. She has a video of it."

Yaku continued to stare at him before realizing what he was talking about,"Oh! The kiss. Oh yeah, that happened. For someone who hasn't gotten his first kiss, you're a good kisser!"

"Was that the reason you kissed him back?"Kaga questioned, looking over at Yaku while putting away the groceries. Yaku nodded,"Yup! Also, I was a bit tipsy myself, so my mind wasn't fully there. It was a good experience!" Horo stared at Yaku in disbelief before making his way towards him. His hand immediately met the back of Yaku's head smacking him.

"Hey!"Yaku yelped.

Horo crossed his arms, feeling irritated, but kept a blank expression on his face. Yaku rubbed the back of his head and looked at Horo,"It was a good experience,"He leaned closer to Horo with a smirk on his face,"I didn't know you were so passionate."

Horo grabbed Yaku's face and pushed him away from him. Yaku stumbled back, but balanced himself,"Hey!"

"I'm not drinking again."

"You will. You're just too shy to accept that you love me."Yaku smiled and wrapped his arms around his best friend happily. Horo blankly stared down at Yaku,"I will smack you again."He threatened.

"You can smack my ass if you want."Yaku teased, having a mischievous smile on his face. In response, Horo smacked his head again, earning a yelp from his best friend.

"I was just joking!"Yaku cried out with a soft pout and rubbed his head again.

[its-me-im-coraline]

Birthday Surprises // Damiano David

words // 984

warnings // none

pairing // Damiano David x F!Reader

author's note // let me know if you want to be tagged. its a little stupid, with a little stupid humor cause i saw something like that online and i just... it inspire me

request // yes by @ starslazyandcozy, happy belated birthday babe, I hope you like it.

summary // Reader has her birthday and thinks Damiano has forgotten but the man has a few tricks up his sleeve.

It was a special day today. Her birthday was finally here and she could not wait to spend it with her lover. Y/N woke up that morning full of excitement - it would be the first birthday with Damiano - but the aforementioned man was nowhere to be seen. His side of the bed was empty, and cold by the time Y/N woke up, only a note there , folded in four and left on the pillow.

Good morning, amore. I did not mean to leave so early but I was needed at work. Seems some of our demos have been ruined and we might need to re-record them. There’s breakfast already made (I did promise, didn’t I? I made some waffles - yes I put syrup on top) and coffee is at the coffee maker (oh I wish it will stay tasty till you wake up).

I’ll try to be back before lunch. There’s this new place at the end of the town square - Thomas told me about it - and I thought we should go.

Have a good day dolcezza, I love you.

♡ Damiano

Not a word about her birthday. Nothing at all! Y/N tried to not start the day on a bad note, instead taking a deep breath and deciding to go and enjoy the breakfast Damiano made. Maybe he did not entirely forget. Maybe he did not have time to even think about it when he left. He must’ve already made the breakfast before they called him to go. Yeah, yes, that’s the only logical explanation. He will surely text me later.

But later never came. Y/N spend the morning entirely alone - well with the exception of Damiano’s cats. There were phone calls occupying the phone all day, from family and friends and all of that, but nothing from the one person she expected to call her the most. The man had gone in radio silence, not even a text shot her way.

By the time striked 15.00 PM Y/N was convinced Damiano forgot. Of course he did! It’s not like he does not have entirely too much on his plate. He’s so busy, I understand, she tried to convince herself but she knew that she was actually pretty upset. It did hurt that Damiano did not remember her birthday, after a whole year of being together and over 5 of being friends. It was impossible, or at least it seemed to be, but as the facts show it did happen.

“Amore, I’m back,” called Damiano entering the apartment, “are you ready to go?” He walked in the house all excited (and with a few surprises up his sleeve) but it was not reciprocated. “Amore?”

Y/N was sitting on the couch asleep in a state that the man could only explain as (very mildly and kind of falsely) depressive. There were dry tears in her face, her hair was a mess. Damiano simply could not believe it. He felt guilty, having a few ideas as to what got his girlfriend in that state but he wanted to make sure. So he did the most ‘logical’ thing he could: wake her up.

His fingers started softly running through her hair, landing on her back and rubbing it over the thin material of her his t-shirt. “Dolcezza, hey, hey baby, hi,” he whispered seeing as she slowly opened her eyes. “Happy birthday baby.” A soft kiss was all that followed his words and a soft smile of relief as he saw his love smiling as well.

“Did you sleep well?” He questioned, never pausing his very relaxing actions.

“Not really,” she said truthfully, “I thought you forgot.” The confession felt very freeing to Y/N. It had almost stressed her out - the possibility of her lover forgetting such a day.

“I could never forget you, amore-”

“Yeah but you never said happy birthday all day,” she whined a bit, slightly joking but slightly actually complaining about his actions. To his defence he was not planning on ignoring his lover, only giving the birthday wishes and gifts a little later that day, in an attempt of a surprise.

“I only wanted to surprise you,” he explained, pulling Y/N out of the couch as he got up and walked to the front door. There, by the door, on a comfortingly old chair, sat a bouquet of flowers and a big pastry shop box with two candles and a little stick that throws fire sparks taped up top and two candy bars (Y/N’s favorite). “The lady gave me those for free. She said I was - and I quote - so funny, she had to gift me at least those because she has not laughed this much in a while. I don’t even know what that means,” he laughed making Y/N laugh with him before embracing him strongly.

“Hey, get off! You have to see the cake.”

“What did you do Damiano?!”

“Nothing, open it up!” If he could be ‘too excited’ then Damiano was just that. He had this stupid little boy-ish grin all over his face, all but yelling ‘immature teenage boy’ in the most positive sense that could have. He could be an adult rockstar at 23 but sometimes his humor matched a 15 year old.

Y/N did as told, opening the box of the cake and almost falling to the floor while laughing, tears in her eyes. In the open box sat a cake in the shape of a crooked penis with a lopsided smile and a few words written on it. ‘Another year you’re alive. It will be my pleasure’. No wonder the lady found it so funny.

“Do you like it?” Questioned Damiano, not much that curious about the answer, his own entertained smile turning into laughter soon.

“I love it,” replied Y/N and kissed the man softly, “thank you.”

“Happy birthday, amore.”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost @superchrystaldrug @selenophiliaxx

[trashinaglass-archive]

Insta Story

Chris vents to y/n when he posts something he shouldn’t have

A/n: What even are titles

This has been saved in my drafts because I don’t know if it’s wrong to post or not but it is what it is. Let me know if it’s bad or good😂

Grocery shopping was the best. It was a relaxing pastime- quietly strolling the isles, grabbing the things you need as well as some items you simply want. No one paid attention to you, with the expection of the fan that knew of your relationship with Chris.

“You’re y/n!” You hear as you grab the snack from the wall, turning to see a young girl run up to you before putting it in your cart. “Hi! I’m a huge fan of Chris! Captain America is my favorite Avenger!!”

“That’s really cool,” you reply calmly. “I’ll let him know I bumped into you.”

“That would be so amazing, omg!” She silently freaked out for a second, overjoyed by the thought of her favorite actor knowing about her. The girl’s face slowly slipped from excited to worried as she looked at you again. “Um, is he... okay?” She asked slowly, unsure if she was overstepping.

Your brows furrowed at her question. “What do mean?”

Her eyes went wide, “you didn’t see?”

“See what?”

She awkwardly explained what she was referring to, your eyebrows raising as she spoke. Half of you was confused and wanted to talk to Chris immediately. The other half just wanted to laugh. What a Chris thing to do.

You finished up your conversation with the girl and checked out, making your way to the home you shared with Chris. Your questions were soon answered when you walked in the house, finding Chris pacing around the family room, on the phone with someone.

“Shit,” he muttered when he noticed you placing bags down in the kitchen. “Y/n’s home, I’ll talk to you later.” He set the phone down and made his way to you, wrapping his arms around your body. You could feel him slightly relax into you, as if he needed the touch.

“You doing good?” You ask him. He chuckled softly before pulling away, turning to lean against the counter, unsure what to say.

“I’m just an idiot,” he sighed, crossing his arms across his chest.

You couldn’t help the laugh that came out. “Chris, you are a lot of things; an idiot is not one of them. Inattentive maybe, but you’re not an idiot.”

“I just put my own dick pic on the internet!” He finally exploding. “Who fucking does that? Six million people saw my penis, and I literally just handed it to them.”

“So...,” you say, drawing the word out. “What are you gonna do?” The best approach for the situation was to help him think it all through. You watch as he looks away, biting the inside of his lip as he searches for what to say.

“I don’t know if there’s anything I can do,” he admits with a shrug. You nodded, agreeing with his answer.

“And what did you lose because of it?”

His left eyebrow raised as he let out a breathy scoff, “my dignity.”

“Exactly.” You giggle softly at his answer. “I know this is gonna sound kind of terrible, but like... who cares? I mean, when I checked twitter, there were way more posts asking if you were okay, asking the post not to be passed around way more than anything else. You’re embarrassed, I would be worried if you weren’t, but where does it go beyond that?”

You watch as he contemplates your words. “Chris, you’re a good person- you’ve never hurt anyone, you only ever have the best intentions, and that hasn’t changed. This doesn’t change that. Everyone makes mistakes, and that’s all this was. And it’s not even that uncommon, I can think of at least ten celebrities that have done the same thing, just off the top of my head, if you would like to hear the list.”

Chris smiled, holding back a laugh.

“Give it a month, no one will even remember it. I mean, you might have an asshole reporter or weird fangirl, but it says a lot more about them than you. It’s okay to be embarrassed, but don’t put yourself down over it. You weren’t the first, and you won’t be the last.”

He sighed, looking down as he took in your words. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

You scoff playfully. “You guess. I’m always right, gorg,” you tease. Placing your hands on his arms, still crossed over his chest, and lean against him.

“Mm, I guess you’re right,” he repeats, making you laugh. He moved so his arms were around you, holding your body against his. “And thank you for that. You really are the best.”

You smile as he places a kiss to your temple, leaving his forehead against yours before you lift your head up looking at him again. “Would it make you feel better if I posted a picture of my titties,” you offer, grabbing your boobs as you speak.

Chris bust out in laughter, grabbing your arms. “Absolutely not.”

[kirah69]

Like a Porn

This was supposed to be for @petopher-events Petopher Week, but I had some bad days, and besides this was a request from @andygods so I wanted it to be good.

(Andy said the prompt sounded like a porn so that's where the title comes from.)

Like a Porn

[AO3 link]

Day 4: “Do you think you could just go one day without pissing me off?” (I didn't use it literally)

Summary: Peter (17) is Victoria's younger brother. She has married Chris and now the three of them live together. The two brothers-in-law don't get along very well... in appearance.

Tags: Human AU, anal sex, rimming, infidelity, younger top/older bottom, masturbation.

When their parents died, with no other family left, Victoria had to take care of her twelve-years-old brother, Peter. They had been left a good inheritance, and Victoria was already working, so taking care of her little brother was not a big problem, beyond the trouble he used to get into in high school. Although the teachers and the principal used to turn a blind eye due to his situation. After all, he wasn't a bad kid either, he didn't mess with drugs or robbery or other major crimes. He was just a sarcastic boy who liked to piss off others. And now, at seventeen, his main target was her husband, Christopher. He and Victoria had only been married for a few months, and every day was a nightmare. Not because she fought with her husband, no, but because Peter kept picking on Chris and, although Chris tried to ignore him most of the time, he sometimes couldn't help but answer back. When they started arguing, Victoria would roll her eyes and leave them to it. She could understand Peter's behavior. The boy must feel overprotective of his older sister, his only family, and she would feel the same if Peter had a girlfriend (a serious girlfriend, not the sporadic flings he used to have).

“Peter! You left the empty milk bottle in the fridge, again,” Chris scolded him as soon as the boy appeared in the kitchen, dressed only in his boxers as usual.

“Me? Nah, I don't think so.” He shouldered past Chris and grabbed the bottle of orange juice from the open fridge.

“Who else would do something like that?” Chris asked, closing the fridge when Peter pulled away.

“A ghost? Or maybe you drank the milk while you sleepwalked, and now you don't remember.” He put two slices of bread in the toaster and took a banana from the fruit bowl.

Victoria sighed and got up to put her breakfast dishes in the dishwasher.

“I'll leave you two to it.” She gave her husband a kiss and ruffled Peter's hair.

She took her things and went to work. Peter was on vacation and Chris worked from home, going to the office just for some meetings, but Victoria worked from 9 to 5 at the town hall.

When he heard the front door close, Peter smiled and sat on the counter. He peeled the banana and opened the juice bottle while Chris searched the pantry.

“We're out of milk! Why didn't you add it to the list?” Chris exclaimed, turning around.

He froze for a moment, and his cheeks flushed. It was visible even under the beard. Peter knew what Chris was seeing, him sitting alone in his boxers on the counter, legs spread apart, a banana in hand, and his head thrown back as he drank the juice, a few drops dripping down his chin and neck.

“D-don't drink from the bottle,” Chris scolded without much energy and cleared his throat.

“Sorry, brother,” he said with a smile. Peter knew calling him that made him nervous, mostly because of the way he said it.

“When you finish the milk, add it to the shopping list if you're not going to buy it yourself. And don't leave the empty bottle in the fridge,” Chris told him, trying to sound annoyed like he didn't have a semi in his pants.

“I'll try to remember it.”

Peter opened his mouth in an o-shape and shoved a big part of the banana into it, keeping eye contact with Chris at all times. His brother-in-law was unable to look away, staring at him with his mouth half open. The toaster popped and Chris reacted.

“I-I have to work.” He turned around and almost ran out of there, forgetting about breakfast.

It was sooo funny. From the moment Victoria introduced them, Peter had taken an interest in Chris. Too bad he was his sister's boyfriend and now her husband, but that didn't stop Peter from playing with him from time to time. He had to maintain the facade, of course, of an annoying brother, but he loved knowing that Chris got hard for him. He wondered if Chris ever masturbated or even fucked his sister thinking of him.

Shit. Now he was hard. Well, that had an easy solution. Peter went into his room without bothering to close the door behind him and got naked. He pulled the suction cup dildo out of his little collection and stuck it on the floor in the middle of his room. He grabbed the lube from the same drawer and knelt on a cushion with his ass over the dildo, his face to the full-length mirror of his closet and his back to the open door. Yes, he hoped Chris would catch him, he had been trying since they moved in together after the wedding, but Chris never fell for it.

He lubed his ass until he had a couple of fingers in, which wasn't hard because he was quite active, and he also lubricated the dildo. He went down on it slowly. He couldn't rush, the size was considerable. Peter liked the burning when it opened him, so he never stretched himself too much. He took a deep breath and sighed when the glans of the fake cock passed his entrance, he loved that part. After a moment, he rested his hands on his thighs and continued to lower himself, slowly spreading his legs until he reached the base. He couldn't hold back a moan, nor did he want to.

As soon as he got used to having it inside him, he began to move slowly, trying not to rub his prostate just yet because he wasn't in a hurry. He could see it go in and out on the mirror, his hard cock bouncing up and down and his hole glistening with lube. He had a good body, he was the captain of the basketball team for a reason, and he didn't mind that it was narcissistic to look at himself while he masturbated. Although he would rather be able to look at a certain person.

Then, he saw movement in the corner of the mirror and his heart raced. It was his chance. He went into performance mode, wiggling his body a little more, lifting his ass to give Chris a good look and raising the level of his moans. He sounded almost like a whore, but if it worked he didn't mind.

Chris had gone to his office so quickly after Peter had exposed himself in the kitchen that he hadn't eaten anything, and now his stomach was roaring. When he heard the boy go into his room, Chris waited a few minutes for his semi to drop completely (it was a natural reaction, it had nothing to do with his brother-in-law or with that slim body or with his damn teasing). Thinking the coast was clear, Chris left his office and headed for the kitchen, but then stopped when he reached Peter's bedroom door. For a second he didn't know what those sounds were, but then he recognized them. That damn kid... and he hadn't even closed the door!

He had to turn around and go back to the office. He couldn't give in, couldn't fall for his teasing, he'd been resisting, and now he couldn't... A louder moan made him look unintentionally. Shit! What was he doing on the floor? What was...? Where did he get that thing from? And he seemed to put everything inside so easily even though the size was larger than the average penis. His face was so full of pleasure, his mouth open and his eyes closed with a blush on his cheeks. The muscles in his legs contracted with the effort of going up and down. It was hypnotic to see that athletic body move and his long cock jump up and down, dripping. It would feel so good ins-. No! No, no, no, he couldn't think of that. He turned and hurried back to his office, but before closing the door he could hear Peter come.

Shit, now he really was fully hard, and this time it wasn't going to get down by itself. He unbuttoned his pants and sat in his chair. He didn't want to do that, he knew it was wrong, but his resistance had a limit. At first, Chris thought Peter was just jealous because he felt like Chris was stealing his sister. But he soon came to the conclusion that Peter wanted to drive him crazy, pacing the house almost naked (or sometimes completely naked when he got out of the shower), with deliberately obscene gestures and those... those looks. He wasn't sure if Peter wanted to eat him or be eaten by him.

A growl rumbled in his throat and Chris came with the image of Peter fucking himself in that stupid toy.

“What a waste.”

Chris was startled and almost fell out of his chair when he heard Peter. He hadn't even realized that Peter had opened the door and there he was, leaning against the door frame, completely naked and with some lubricant between his legs.

“W-what are you doing-?”

“All that cum would be so much better inside me,” Peter said, walking toward him.

“Peter, for God's sake, you have to stop this. I'm married to your sister!” He wanted to get up, but Peter was so close. If Chris got up, he would touch the boy, so he could only try to cover his flaccid dick.

“Yeah... But we both know that my sister is quite frigid. And, or my instinct is really fucked, or you lean towards my side more than you let on,” he said with a knowing smile.

Chris opened and closed his mouth not knowing what to say because yes, he was right. Chris had been hiding it all his life because his family was too conservative, but it was as Peter said.

“I-it doesn't matter, now-.”

“You're married, blah blah blah. Are you going to fuck me or not?” Then a gleam passed through his eyes, and Peter leaned over Chris, putting his hands on the arms of the chair. “Or do you prefer to be fucked? It'd be no problem, I'm very versatile.”

Something must have given him away because Peter smirked like the Cheshire cat. He was overwhelmed, he couldn't believe Peter could read him so easily. He had hidden it for so long, terrified that his father would find out (he had been beaten for much less) and somehow this kid had found out. And there he was, in front of him, with that sexy naked body, offering to do whatever Chris wanted. So tempting. But he couldn't do it, he couldn't, he was married, and Peter was his brother-in-law. It was so wrong and he missed it so much. His heart was beating so loud that it was pounding in his ears. He couldn't take it anymore.

He got up, throwing the chair back, and ran out of there.

Peter was a bit stunned. He didn't expect that reaction. He hoped he hadn't scared him off for good. It was obvious that Chris was still in the closet, and perhaps he had been too blunt. Although it was clear that Chris was attracted to him.

When hours passed and Chris still didn't return home, Peter began to worry seriously. Usually they would always have lunch together or at least Chris would make food for both of them. He knew that if he didn't, Peter would only eat takeout, but Chris didn't even show up for lunch. Shit, maybe he had really screwed up this time. What was that feeling? Maybe it was remorse he felt.

Finally, Chris came back just before Victoria did, his face shiny with sweat and his T-shirt wet, as if he had been running all those hours. Peter watched him from the living room, lying on the couch with a book in his hands as if he didn't care. Chris went upstairs, and Peter heard the shower. Shortly after, he came downstairs in clean clothes and started making dinner just as Victoria walked through the door. Peter rolled his eyes when they greeted each other with just a chaste kiss. What a waste.

“Are you starting with dinner now?” Victoria asked.

“Yes, I've been a little busy, but it won't be long,” he said as if it had been an ordinary day.

“And what about you? Have you done something today? Anything?” she asked Peter.

“I'm on vacation, Vic,” he replied without looking away from the book he hadn't been reading.

Victoria sighed and rolled her eyes.

“We'll talk later, I'm going to change.”

As soon as she disappeared upstairs, Peter got up and went to the kitchen. By the way his back tensed, Chris knew he was there, right behind him, but he didn't even turn to look at him.

“Aren't you going to tell her what happened?” Peter asked, moving a little closer.

“What good would it do?” he murmured, still not looking at him.

Peter leaned a little closer and placed his hands on the counter on either side of Chris. He did not move, he just continued cutting vegetables with slightly trembling hands.

“Maybe to make me stop bothering you...” Peter moved his hips and pressed his crotch against Chris ass. He wasn't hard, but Chris could feel his cock anyway. “Unless you like me bothering you,” Peter whispered in his ear.

Chris shuddered and unintentionally moved his hips. Peter could see his knuckles turning white with how hard he was gripping the knife.

“Your sister is upstairs,” Chris warned him with a hiss, making no effort to push him away.

“Is that the problem?” Peter asked with a smile.

Chris didn't answer, didn't say a word or move, even as Peter rubbed his half-hard cock against his ass.

As soon as he heard his sister come down the stairs, Peter turned away from Chris and went to get a soda from the fridge. Victoria came into the kitchen in her usual home clothes (which were not very different from the ones she wore on the street, always so neat). As soon as she saw Peter, she looked away from him.

“God, Peter! Can't you have some decency?” she asked, referring to the obvious erection that his loose shorts did not help at all to hide.

“You've seen worse,” he replied without feeling the slightest bit of shame.

“That doesn't mean I want to see it,” she sighed in exasperation.

He looked at the clock. It was already two in the morning. Chris was lying on his side of the bed, staring at the ceiling, his erection lifting the thin sheet. Peter had behaved relatively well the rest of the night, at least they hadn't argued. It had been even worse. The three of them had sat in the living room to watch a movie, Chris and Victoria on the couch, each in a corner barely touching, and Peter in the armchair next to Victoria. The boy wore only those shorts that highlighted his crotch and climbed up his thighs every time he moved. And of course Peter took advantage of it, with his legs spread apart, one over the arm of the chair, letting him almost see inside his pants. He was sure that Peter was doing it on purpose to tease him, everything he did was to tease him. Chris had that image in his head, and there was no way his erection would go down. Waking Victoria up to have sex wasn't an option, it wasn't Saturday. So when he couldn't take it anymore, he got out of bed and went to the hall bathroom so she wouldn't hear him.

He took off his clothes and got into the shower. Unfortunately the water wasn't cold enough, so it didn't help. He put his hand around the base of his erection, and before he even started to masturbate the door opened. He cursed to himself, he should have locked the door.

“Isn't that a little pathetic? That you're just married and have to resort to jerking off.”

Chris didn't know what to do, there was no way to cover or hide his erection in that transparent shower. And Peter was right, it was a little pathetic. The boy was smiling and did not hesitate to take off his boxers, the only clothes he was wearing, and get into the shower with him.

“God, Peter, Victoria is-.”

“Sound asleep,” Peter continued. He turned off the shower faucet, they didn't need the noise to cover it up. “And with the sleeping pills she takes she won't wake up to an earthquake, so you can be as loud as you want.”

Peter licked his lips and knelt in front of him. Chris had to say no. He didn't want to say no, but he had to. However, when Peter put his cock in his mouth almost to the bottom without the slightest gesture of discomfort, Chris went speechless. He threw his head back, hitting the wall, and Peter started giving him head. Fuck! He tried to stay in control, but it had been ages! And Peter was incredibly good with his tongue. Apparently it was useful for something more than just driving him crazy. Peter grabbed him by the hips and began to move his head up and down, reaching a little deeper each time as he kept moving his tongue along his shaft. He dared to open his eyes, and Peter was looking directly at him. Those intense blue eyes that seemed to see inside you, that had discovered his deepest secret. He couldn't stop looking, he was mesmerized. He didn't even notice the hand moving down his buttock until a finger pressed against his hole. A moan drowned between his lips and he couldn't help but jerk his hips and thrust against Peter's throat. And he couldn't stop, Chris grabbed Peter by the hair and kept thrusting until he came in his mouth.

For a moment he didn't think about anything, he only enjoyed the best orgasm he had had in... too long. Then, when Peter pulled the cock out of his mouth, Chris realized what he had done. He opened his eyes and looked at him in horror. Chris was sure he had pissed him off, but Peter was just licking his lips, stroking his hard cock absently. Peter looked up at him with a smile and stood up, using his hand on Chris' hip to help himself. The boy didn't say anything, just smiled at him, looking into Chris' eyes as he jerked off until he came all over his belly, thick white ropes splashing his skin. Chris was still panting, his heart racing. If he could, Chris would get hard again when Peter spread the cum with his fingers across his abs.

“Sleep well,” Peter said and got out of the shower.

Without even picking up his boxers, Peter left the bathroom. Chris stayed stunned in the shower for a moment, his belly smeared with Peter's semen. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He knew it was going to blow up in his face at any moment, but he hadn't felt this good in years. Maybe just once and that's it. Peter would get what he wanted and find new entertainment. He knew that this was just a game to Peter, like a child infatuated with the toy he could not have. Once they fucked, Peter would get bored, and Chris would be satisfied for several years. Yes, just once.

Breakfast was like any other day. An argument over some nonsense Chris couldn't even remember. Peter in his underwear, teasing and just being inappropriate. A sexual tension so strong that it was impossible to ignore, and Victoria completely oblivious to all of it as always. It felt like foreplay, and Chris had an irrational fear that Peter would just pull down his pants and fuck him right there.

But that didn't happen, of course. Victoria went to work, and Peter went up to his room. Chris stood in the kitchen utterly confused, not knowing what he should do now. Was Peter waiting for him upstairs or had that in the shower been it?

Then Peter came back with a bottle of lube and a black plug in hand that he left on the counter. Chris stared at him somewhat confused. Peter came up behind him and pressed him against the counter.

“I'm going to fill you with my cum and keep it there all day with this,” Peter told him, moving the plug between his fingers. “Sounds good?”

Chris cleared his throat, unable to answer, but he nodded with some enthusiasm. He heard Peter's laugh, but at that moment he didn't care. The boy's hands were already unbuttoning his pants.

“Wait, here?” he asked, a little alarmed.

“Here, in the living room, in the dining room, in the bathroom, in my room, in yours... I plan to fuck you all over the house.”

Peter meant it, and Chris shuddered at the thought. Maybe it wasn't going to be just one time.

His pants fell to the floor, and the boy next to them. Peter pushed the pants aside along with his underwear and patted his legs apart.

“Bend over,” Peter ordered.

“What are you going to-?”

“Bend over, Chris,” he repeated. “Be good for me.”

Peter smiled when those words made him shiver. Chris leaned over the counter and spread his legs as Peter directed. He expected the lube, the preparation before Peter fucked him, but not his tongue directly over his hole.

“Fuck! Peter, what...”

“Hmm...” Peter was a little too busy to answer.

Peter spread his buttocks with both hands and began to lick from his perineum, over his hole and up his crack. A couple more licks, almost like a dog, and Chris was about to ask him to stop because it was a weird feeling. But then Peter focused on his hole and Chris forgot all about it. Peter licked his hole, adding as much saliva as he could, and began to push slowly, just testing at first. When Peter finally pierced him with his tongue, Chris let out an oh followed by a long moan.

“Yes, yes, Peter, don't stop,” he pleaded without thinking.

And Peter didn't stop. He fucked Chris with his tongue, letting out moans of pleasure, almost as if he were feasting. Fuck, someone should give that boy a medal for that tongue, some record or something. He couldn't believe how talented Peter was. How much experience did he have? Definitely more than him because it was the first time someone had done that to him. His gay experiences were nothing more than the odd sordid encounter in a nightclub with some spit as lubricant in a filthy bathroom stall. But this was different, it was dirty, but in another way. It was perverted and forbidden because Peter was his wife's little brother. It was so wrong in so many ways, but it felt so good.

Then Peter pulled his mouth away and Chris almost screamed.

“Shh... Another day I'll make you come with just my tongue, but now I have other plans,” Peter promised, stroking his hard buttocks. Chris had been in the military and was still fit. All those muscles covered by that blond hair. Peter had been in love with them from day one.

He took the lube and poured a good amount over his fingers.

“I'm ready, do it now,” Chris asked, opening the legs a little more.

Peter clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“I like it lubed,” he replied.

He slid a finger in little by little, and Chris was so willing and his hole so relaxed that there was barely resistance. He rubbed inside, searching for the spot, and Chris let out a yelp when he found it.

“There! There, Peter, there!” Chris almost pleaded with his legs shaking.

“I know, let me take care of you,” Peter told him, kissing his thigh.

He kept rubbing his prostate gently, not wanting to arouse Chris more than he already was, while moving his finger to stretch the edge, using the thumb of his other hand too. He knew it must have been years since Chris had last done it. Peter highly doubted Chris even touched himself, so he wanted to make sure it was as pleasant as possible. (And it wasn't easy because his cock was hard, sticking out the edge of his boxers and dripping. All he wanted was to be inside him.)

He slipped a second finger inside him and scissored them inside. Chris lifted his ass even higher as he moaned. If Chris already sounded like that with only a couple of fingers inside him, Peter couldn't even imagine what he would sound like while he was fucking him. Peter pushed a third finger inside him, and now Chris would barely stand up if it weren't for the counter he was leaning on. He felt a little hollow when Peter pulled his fingers out of him, but then Peter got up and pressed the tip of his cock against his entrance. And nothing else. He stayed still there, tempting him but not penetrating him.

“Peter!” he complained in frustration.

“Ask for it,” Peter told him with that damn smirk of his. “Tell me what you want.”

Chris felt the blush spread past his face. That kid had no limits (maybe he shouldn't call him kid when they were in that situation). He was cruel enough to stop if Chris didn't ask him the way he wanted. (Chris wanted to be upset, but he was just embarrassed at how much that turned him on.)

“F-fuck me...”

“Come on, you can do better.” He slid a hand up his back, pulling his shirt up. Mmh... He had good muscles in his broad back too.

Chris bit his lip and felt his hole tighten around the tip of the cock.

“Fuck me, Peter, fill me with your cock, please, please...” he begged with more sincerity than he expected. “I need it inside, please...”

“You beg so nicely,” Peter praised him with a kiss on the back of his neck, and his cock pierced his hole.

Chris moaned and shuddered. He moved his hips almost on instinct to try to get more inside, but Peter stopped him, placing an arm around his waist.

“So eager,” Peter laughed. “Next time I'll let you take control, don't worry. But now it's my turn.”

Peter grabbed him by both hips and thrust, almost bottoming in one go, grazing his prostate. Chris cried, and his mind went blank for a moment. Just seconds later, barely letting him adjust, Peter began to move his hips. He thrust until his balls hit Chris' and barely pulled his cock out before fucking him deep again. He was so tight and so hot that Peter couldn't stop himself, it was almost addictive. Peter had fuck with boys and girls, he was pretty popular in his school, but he had been wanting to do this since Vic had introduced them. A man a little older than him (barely eleven years) with those muscles, that beard and that military look. He had been part of his fantasies from day one. He had tried to replace him with others, but it had been impossible. But at last Chris was his, not in the way he expected but even better. And those moans that escaped him, the way his muscles contracted, the blush that reached his ears. If Peter kept up like this, he was going to come sooner than he wanted.

He grabbed Chris' cock with one hand and began to jerk him off while still fucking him. It was already dripping, and from the way Chris gasped and moaned he wasn't going to last long. Peter wrapped an arm around his waist to keep Chris from hurting himself on the edge of the counter and began to thrust harder, letting himself be led by his desire. But that didn't last long, he couldn't take it any longer when Chris' insides tightened around him as he came over the kitchen cabinets.

“Fuck-... Chris...” Peter growled as he came inside him.

He stood panting, leaning against Chris with his cock still inside him. They were both sweating, but neither seemed to mind. Chris complained when Peter pulled out of him, but then Peter placed the plug in his hole and Chris sighed with some relief. He didn't want his hole empty again.

“Perfect...” Peter sighed with a goofy grin. “I'm going to take a shower. I'll be in the living room. If you want me to fill you up more, come when you feel like it.”

Peter gave him a gentle spank that made him moan with the movement of the plug inside him and left the kitchen. Chris stood still panting, leaning against the counter with a soft smile on his lips. It was definitely not going to be the last time. That had been the best orgasm of his life, and he couldn't wait to repeat it. Later would come the regrets and guilt, but now he felt so relaxed that he could lie on the kitchen floor for the rest of the day if he didn't have to work (he had to clean up that mess first though).

[whole-lotta-hoes]

Whole Lotta Hoes| Crack Fanfic Mini Series

Episode One: Zeppelin Is No More

Episode Two: Looking For A Job

Episode Three:

Episode Four:

Episode Five:

Warning:

This will cause you to lose a couple of brain cells and question your sanity. It will include a shit ton of weird shit and things that don't make sense at all. Do not read if you are not ready for any of this, read at your own risk.

Cast:

John Paul Jones (Main character)

Robert Plant

Jimmy Page

John Bonham

-------------------

Led Zeppelin is a band apparently. It's just a bunch of horny mother fuckers put together to make songs about sex. John Paul Jones was laying in bed with Robert Plant which he has no idea how that happened. He hoped nothing weird went down between them cause Jimmy Page would be so mad. oh jesus oh god you do not want to make that mother fucker mad. He'll literally turn you into a cheeseball and eat you. John got out of bed only to see that John Bonham was standing in the corner eating swedish fish gummies. He was not going to question it.

"Want some?" Bonzo asked him and he held one in his hand.

"I don't know you what the fuck!?" Jonesy yelled. He went to the baffroom and spotted jimmy trying to swim inside of the toilet. He believed he could do it if he tried hard enough.

"the oil supply demand is sky rocketing these days!" jimmy yelled as he got out of the toilet.

"Bitch do not touch me with your boo boo water," He warned him as he grabbed a toothbrush to use as a weapon. He learned how to make a knife with it in jail.

"Penis guitar playing is totes fun jonesy, you should try it," jimmie added. Oh mother fucker he is a heterosexual lad. Or that is what he said the other day when he ate some of robert's caramel popcorn. man he wondered how he even ended up in that stupid band. who's led and why does he have a zeppelin? you know some guy named their kid zeppelin but he claims that he didn't name him after the band. wait what were we talking about?

The band all decided to head to mcdonalds to eat happy meals. jimmy tickles.

"Guys! oh my god you will not believe it but britney is such a slut! ugh! can't believe she left me for a fish lookin' mother fucker-"

"No one gives a rats ass about your weird horny ass!" jimmy cut him off by yelling at robert. God damn that shithead has a huge ego but a small dick. Jonesy never understood why people liked him so much. He once stole his favorite pair of jojo siwa socks and claimed he never knew he owned any.

"You motherfuckers we're supposed to be going on tour!" Bonzo yelled as he swooped the food off the table.

"suck my asshole bonzo!" jim yelled.

"calm down pagey, he's just a meanie," robert added as he patted his head.

"y'all need to start realizing that no one likes you both!" jonesy snapped.

"shut up you're literally ugly and small and the bassist of led zeppelin and you look like heman with that stupid haircut of yours" Bonzo said as he ate jonesys burgers. damn that hurt.

"You know," jonesy began, "i don't need this job"

"what job?" robeet askes.

"shhhhh let the weirdo speak," jimmy said as he stuck his finger into his mouth.

"without me you will all suck asshole and no one will actually like led zeppelin," he explained.

the three slowly looked at each other and began to laugh their asses off at him.

"You act like you matter so much," robert added.

"shut up cheese cream! you're literally big and ugly and you look like you are 50 years old!" bonzo said as he drank his milk. that was funny. Jonesy felt his blood boil and grabbed his happy meal and stormed out.

-

It was the day of their shit concert. led zeppelin were backstage preparing to cause a dismother and set things on fire. preferably roberts underwear that pretty much doesn't exist in this case. the band stepped on stage and the crowd went wild.

"hello bananas-" That motherfucker fell forward into the drum set. oopsies. jimmy ran to him to make sure his hoe isn't dead or alive. fucking bon jovi.

"oh shit! robert plant is down!" he yelled. jonesy was absolutely done with them. they are nothing but a bunch of dumb fucks who ruin everything. He took out his laser penis and shot jimmy and robert to death.

"oh Motherfucker has a fucking laser pp! hija de su pinche madre!" jimmy yelled as he split in half. robert died again. bonzo just sat there blown away by the fact that that john paul jones just killed the front man and the guitarist of Led Zeppelin in front of millions of people. he was impressed.

"holy shit man you really-"

nope sorry but jonesy shot him too so he died. damn he could've let him live. meanie. oh wait im writing this so i could've.... ah man im too lazy to go back and fix it. too bad we're going with this plot now. Jonesy stepped off the stage and headed to the back.

"god dammit i hate everyone in this bloody world," he said to himself. he decided to hit the pub that was nearby to enjoy himself.

As he was sitting at the counter drinking something that is an alcoholic beverage. he began to spark ideas of what he could possibly do since led zeppelin died. He thought about starting a whole new band but he remembered that what caused him to kill led zeppelin. that was out of the shopping list for walmart. next was to steal money from the bank so he remains rich but he then realized that he is a famous musician and will get recognized quickly. fuck. he then thought of changing his hair to look less like heman cause that insult hurt.

"aha!" he shouted. He finally thought of something that could get him a shit ton of money. He drank the remaining drink from his cup and ran out of the pub.

-

he put on a thicc line of eyeliner, red lipstick, a black wig, fish nets leggings, high heeled boots, and earrings. oh man this is going to be hella great. His wife walked in to see what the fuck this small ass mothertrucker was up to this time. oh man i shat my pants.

"sweetie what the fuck are you doing!?" she yelled. Jonesy turned to look at her.

"led zeppelin is no more," he responded. She was so confused and wondered how the fuck she even ended up marrying heman. she had no idea what led zeppelin is no more meant and was hella concerned for his health.

"be back in a few days," he added as he broke his ankle trying to exit the house and rolled down the hill. oops it's not up the hill anymore. guess you could really say he went down hill. i hate myself so much. he walked down the sidewalk and ended up in someone's house. Motherfucker it's jimmy page's house. he stole his nice trousers or whatever those were. my teacher walked by as i wrote that btw. turns out they don't fit him cause jimmy is also a big hoe and jonesy isn't. shit. jimmy is embarrassing asf. that was pointless of him stealing so he stole his underwear. wait he wears those? imma look it up hold on. i didn't find anything about that so im just going to assume that he doesnt.

there was a picture of jimmy when he was with the yardbirbs and golly that is one ugly Motherfucker! he stole and stuffed it into his underwear. he got out of the house full of useless shit that he did not need at all. Then he forgot what he was doing. Jonesy continued walking down the street only to break his other ankle and rolled down the steep pathway. damn he's one dumb hoe bitch.

-

His laser penis was out of control. he just wanted to have a little me time but instead shot a whole through the wall of the motel be was staying in. god dammit. he removed his pp and switched it out with a normal pp. that's odd. his plan of overthrowing led zeppelin stressed him out. what else do you do when you're stressed? well can't say cause i ain't gotta peener. he got so bored. his days of not being in led zeppelin have been lame and was the worst idea he could even come up with. he didn't know what to do know. he can't just eat your grandma over and over again. he looked at himself through the mirror and oh my god I'm a sexy Motherfucker oh yeah bitch im THE BITCH. he needed to find something that'll keep him entertained for while.

babysitting was a bad idea. he got bitten by a bunch of goblins and gave him rabies. god i hate kids.

"hello motherfucker," jimmy said.

"OH SWEET MOTHER OF GOD DAD SHOES PENIS PLANT! I THOUGHT I KILLED YOU THE OTHER DAY!" Jonesy yelled as he jumped over the couch.

"Nah bitch that was just my twin brother Jamie Patricia Page," He added. "Bitch why are you dressed like a stripper?"

Oh yeah he forgot that was what he was going to do once he killed led zeppelin. he still can but now there's a little bitch with him named james patrick page.

"we should kill robert plant," jimny suggested.

"Bitch i already killed him, you're a little too late you duck whore," he responded.

turns out he didn't actually kill led zeppelin but instead killed their twin brothers.

"You want to overthrow led zeppelin into the trashcan?" Jonesy asked. "Thought that's what you and bert wanted to do...."

"Nah man.... percy is a very stupid penguin and is meanie.... he stole my jojo siwa socks," jimmy explained.

ah damn turns out robert plant is the villain of the story and should be died. he is too powerful. his hair will slice the fuck out of anyone.

"You got a plan?" Jonesy asked.

"i say we steal his pants and burn them and use them as an alternative to oil," he explained. damn science class. then this guy named bonzo showed up and began to beat them with his drum sticks.

"BONZO CALM THE FUCK DOWN! AHHHHHHHHH!!!" james yelled.

"sorry but robert said to beat you both with them!" bonzo yelled back.

jonesy dug through his pants and took out a bunch of swedish fish gummies.

"hey look! fish gummies! come and get it boy!"

"bitch what the fuck I am not some stupid dog for you to be doing that time of shit you small Motherfucker heman lookin hoe short shit," bonzo said.

"GIMME GIMME OH SHIT!" he attacked Jonesy.

jimmy page the god of led zeppelin stood there watching while cheering them on fight fight fight! it got in here so he removed his trousers and threw them at bonzo which ended up knocking him out.

"oh shit! your pants are powerful! we can use it to kill percy!" Jonesy shouted.

"NO! JIMBERT MUST GO CANON!" Jimmy yelled and jumped out the window. all you heard was splash. that motherfucker jumped into the pool and is now wet. that's a disturbing image. Jonesy rolled his eyes and went back to doing whatever the fuck he was doing. it all of a sudden got really bright outside. oh the sun came out cause it was cloudy. but wait! Jonesy looked out the window and spotted robert plant heading towards him.

"IM THE GOLDEN GOD-" that motherfucker fell inside of the pool and sizzled. cual pinche golden god ese no mas anda haciendo puros desmadres y estupideces de mario.

that was the end of led zeppelin.

[joostsblog]

lesson learned - part four - Tom Holland smut series

Pairing: Tom Holland x female!reader

Description: Ever since you met the mentor for your study subject, Tom Holland, you set yourself the goal of being spread across his desk and being fucked senseless by him someday. You try everything in your power to achieve that goal.

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: message me if you want to be on the taglist for this series! let me know your thoughts! There’s gonna be one more part after this

Warnings: swearing, filthy smut

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five

masterlist 

NSFW under the cut

part four - convincing 

Of course, you couldn’t forget about Tom. He was probably the best sex you ever had, but not only that. He was the first guy in a while who seemed to show interest in you. Between the hot moans, his strong fingers digging into your skin and his cock pounding into you, what you certainly couldn’t forget about was the way his eyes would always search yours to see whether you were okay and the way his hands felt on your body caressing you after you both came and you laid there catching your breaths. It was almost haunting you. You knew you could only rest if you saw Tom again. It was inevitable anyway. Though the campus was big and always crowded, you would always run into old acquaintances whenever it was most inconvenient. Plus, you studied the same subject, you could even suddenly sit in the same course out of a sudden next semester. You knew you had to face Tom at some point again, but you were trying to avoid the possibility of it – not thinking about it.

When you told Jenny about everything that had happened, she reprimanded you for it. “You just don’t turn down a guy like Tom when he asks to take you out.”, she had said, and you knew she probably was right. “You need this.” She was most definitely right.

Two uneventful weeks had passed. You studied, prepared for some exams, went to some parties, even made out with a hot international literature major, but you turned him down when his hands went to your ass. Something in you mad you do it. So, it was just another day when you went to the busy student coffee shop on campus when the inevitable happened.

You were too lost in your thoughts to notice that the guy waiting in front of you in line was, in fact, Tom Holland. You only noticed when he looked around and saw you, and at that moment, it was too late for you to walk away now. You had to face him. When Tom’s eyes laid on your face, you saw a number of unreadable expressions flicker over his face until it settled on a surprised smile.

“Hi, (Y/N)! Nice to see you.”, he said.

“Tom.”, you countered with a genuine but nervous smile. Was this the first time you actually called him Tom? You immediately wanted to go back to calling him Mr. Holland and he calling you baby. Before you could proceed with your conversation the barista called for the next person to order, which was Tom. You expected the encounter to be over with now. You would both grab your drinks and disappear into different directions again. Tom was probably over you, probably had forgotten about you anyway.

“I’m getting a black tea and a croissant.”, Tom ordered as he got his wallet out. He shot you a short look as if to ensure you were still there before quickly turning to the barista again. “And I’m paying for whatever she’s having.”

You immediately wanted to decline but as you looked at Tom’s warm eyes, you stopped yourself. I need this. “I’m taking a Macchiato and a cinnamon bun.”, you said to the barista and looked back at Tom. “Thank you.”, you said genuinely.

“It’s my treat.”, he winked at you as he paid for the order. “Can I convince you to sit with me?”

“Barely.”, you joked and you could see a small smile on Tom’s lips. When your order was ready you found a corner in the shop to settle in. “So, this is not gonna be awkward?”

“Not if we don’t make it.”, Tom said as he took his first sip. He was right. But you didn’t know what to talk to him about. You had never properly talked with Tom other than sex talk and talk about that assignment and you had pledged not to go on a date with him. Did he just trick you into being on a date with him? No, no, this wasn’t a date. You quickly picked your first piece of your cinnamon bun. “So did you turn your assignment in for Professor Hayes?”

“Oh yeah, I did. Thanks for your help.”, you didn’t know how Tom would interpret your gratitude. “I heard he takes very long to grade though.”

“That’s true, he’s notoriously known for that.”

You looked back down at your plate. Your idea of a conversation was now over. But not Tom’s.

“See, I don’t want to annoy you with this, but”, Tom paused for a second to ensure he had your attention. “I really enjoyed… being with you. And I would really like to see you again.”

“Here I am.”, you laughed.

“Not like this.”, Tom rolled his eyes with a smile. “I would like to get to know you. Take you out on a date.”

“Listen, I haven’t done this dating thing for quite a while.”, you said.

“I know.”, Tom said and your heart dropped to your stomach. He definitely knew about your reputation then. Not the best conditions to start a serious relationship. “I’m sorry. That didn’t sound like I meant it.”, Tom was quick to correct himself. His hand went to the back of this neck. He seemed to be nervous. “I- I don’t-“, Tom tried to start again but interrupted himself a few times before finding the right words. “You don’t have to commit to anything if you don’t like.”, he said. “Just give me one chance, one date. And if you don’t want to see me after that again, you won’t have to.”

You looked down at the table, your left hand beside your plate, only inches away from Tom’s hand. Tom noticed you looking down at your hands and moved his hand so that his fingers were slowly grazing along your wrist. The soft and warm touch of Tom’s fingers on your skin sent shivers down your spine and left you aching for more. Inappropriate thoughts started wandering through your mind. You could lean over to Tom, whisper into his ear, leave for the bathroom and wait for him to follow you and fuck you quietly in the toilet stall. But instead, you turned your hand on the table, your palm facing up and making his fingers naturally fall into the dip of your hand. If Tom would stretch his fingers, they would slip in between yours and then this would almost be romantic.

You downed the rest of your Macchiato, Tom had almost all of his tea left, and you got up, your hand slipping from beneath Tom’s. “I’ll get back to you. Thank you for the coffee.”, you said with a small smile before you turned around, leaving the coffee shop to go back to classes while you were already making your mind up about Tom’s invitation.

Two days later, with Jenny’s stamp of approval, you walked down the corridor to Tom’s office. He had his office hours today and when you got there, there was already another person waiting. So you put your name on the list hanging on the office door and you sat down, waiting. Fingers fiddling in your lap, you thought about whether this was too inappropriate. But then you remembered that Tom had previously fucked you over the table and spanked you, so this shouldn’t be something out of the ordinary.

So, when the student in front of you left Tom’s office and you were called in, Tom’s face showed surprise. “(Y/N)?”, you heard him say when you turned your back to him to quietly shut and lock the door.

“Yes, Mr. Holland?”, you smiled as you turned around and walked up to him. Tom had stud up upon seeing you, but when you were in front of him you put your hand on his chest and pushed him to sit down in his chair again.

“What are you doing here?”, Tom asked, confusion written on his face.

To answer his question, you grabbed his hands by the wrists and guided them to lay on each side of your hips. You were slowly starting to regain confidence as you swayed your hips. You lowered yourself until you seated yourself on Tom’s lap with your legs spread apart to the sides. Tom’s grip hardened over the fabric of your white skirt. You leaned over to whisper into Tom’s ear.

“We have to be quiet, there are students waiting outside.”

“Fuck.”, Tom muttered under his breath.

You took the straps of your top and let them slowly slide down your shoulders until your breasts were on full display. As you pushed your body closer to Tom’s, his mouth found your nipple and he started sucking at it, while he pushed his hands to be under your skirt, kneading your ass. In return, your hand snuck down between your bodies to massage at Tom’s already hardening cock beneath his trousers.

“I need you to know what you’re getting yourself into.”, you whispered as you started to grind your hips down against his. Your hands now in his hair as he was sucking on your breasts and his hands pushed you closer to him.

Your hands now started to fiddle with the zipper of his trousers until Tom’s hands came flying to help you, his lips glistening with salvia from sucking at your skin. You briefly stood up so Tom could quickly get out of his trousers and boxers before you sat down on his lap again. As Tom was swiftly putting a condom on, you unbuttoned the front of his shirt, so that your bare skin of your breasts could press against the skin of Tom’s chest. With one hand resting on Tom’s shoulder and the other one grabbing his penis by the base, you guided yourself until the tip of his cock was nudging your entrance.

As you locked eyes, his hands underneath your skirt to hold your hips again, you slowly lowered yourself on his cock, savouring each inch, taking him in. When you were fully seated on his cock, you had to take a few breaths. While you always thought that getting fucked from behind would always make you feel someone’s cock a lot more, riding someone, sitting on his cock, was the way you would be filled up the most. As you started moving slowly back and forth to ease your way into it, you heard a low groan coming from Tom’s mouth.

“Sshh.”, you said as you smile at him. Tom shutting his eyes tightly, lips pressed together.

You were slowly moving on his cock just the way you liked it, no concern for Tom’s pleasure at that moment. Biting your lip, you also had to stop yourself from making needy moans. The feeling of Tom’s cock inside of you, nudging at your walls, filling you up so good, was driving you crazy, making your eyes roll back. You leaned forward just at the same time as Tom was slightly sitting up, so your breasts were now pressed against his bare chest, Tom’s hand holding you by your back gently. You were looking down at Tom, his eyes finding yours again. It felt as if a sweet taste unfolded in your mouth at the sight, at the feeling of his cock inside of you. So, you couldn’t do anything other than slightly lean down to him and catch his soft lips in a hard kiss.

Your lips moved in unison as you moved your body up and down his cock and you both allowed yourselves to moan into the kiss, sloppy but passionate. You ended the kiss with a soft bite into Tom’s lower lip and you picked up pace riding his dick. Using your hands, you pushed down Tom by the chest until he was leaning back in his chair, watching you as you worked yourself on his cock and your breasts ever so slightly bounced with your movement. He pressed his lips tightly together again, fingers digging into your sides. When you felt his dick twitch inside of you, you repeated that movement and picked up speed. Closely listening to the hitching of Tom’s breath you could tell that he was itching closer to his release. So you slammed down harder on his dick and just right when you were sure he was about to come you stopped and went painfully slow again.  

“Fuck.”, Tom whispered as he let out a breath of air, he had been holding in. “You’re a fucking tease.”

You grinned with pride as you rolled your hips down into Tom’s hips slowly. Leaning forward you connected your lips to Tom’s neck and softly sucked there only leaving faint marks of purple. The thought of Tom facing other people in his office with soft purple marks on his neck, so faint that you would have to look twice to notice, was just so hot to you. Tom rolled his head back, giving you even more access to his soft skin. As you rolled your hips, sucked on his skin, you left soft kisses in between an occasional bite, which made Tom hiss. When Tom twitched his hips, you sat upright again, and you worked yourself faster on his cock again. This time you were determined to ride him until his high.

You started breathing heavily as you went up and down Tom’s cock with fast pace again. The way his cock was stroking your walls made you certain that it also wouldn’t take too long for you to orgasm. You put one hand on Tom’s chest to steady yourself before you moved it to the side of his neck to hold him dominantly. You could tell Tom was also only barely holding it together. So you only slowed down a tiny bit and you leaned forward. Using the hand on the side of his neck, you guided his mouth to your nipple again. You were now going a bit slower, but the tip of Tom’s cock was now hitting at a different angle, right into that sweet spot on your wall that drove you crazy. You worked yourself to penetrate that spot as Tom’s lips were sucking hard on your nipple before you felt him softly bite into the nipple and it sent you into oblivion. With such a hard bite on your lips, that you worried it would mark up, you came all-around Tom. You rode out your orgasm as best as you could, with Tom’s hands hard on your hips and his lips on your skin.

When you came down from your high, you didn’t stop the pace. Instead, you picked up even more pace, with one hand pushing Tom back into his chair, holding him by the neck. You moved your hips as hard and as fast as you could, and you felt Tom trying to thrust up into you beneath you. As your grip on his neck tightened his mouth opened with a silent moan and with tightly shut eyes and stuttering hips, he released himself into the condom. You slowed down your hips’ movements until Tom used the hands by your sides to stop your movements entirely, being oversensitive from the hard orgasm.

Tom’s head was fallen back, his breath fast, hands only resting softly on the tops of your thighs. You wished you could sit there forever with Tom’s cock slowly softening inside of you. But holding the condom by the base of his cock you slowly got up and you pulled up the straps of your tank top, so your breasts were covered again, your hard nipples still peaking through the thin material.

“You should probably get dressed again, you still have work.”, you said with a mischievous smile as you ran your hands through your hair to make sure it looked alright. Without a word, only a low groan, Tom pulled his trousers up and zipped them up again. You stepped closer to him again, your hands buttoning up his shirt, fingers softly tracing his hot skin. When you reached the last button, your look went up to find Tom’s dark eyes and you whispered. “Friday. Pick me up at 7 pm.”

And with those final words and an innocent smile you turned around and walked towards the door. When you unlocked the door and you took one last look over your shoulder you saw Tom standing there shaking his head with a soft smile on his lips.

~

Lesson Learned Taglist:

@deadlyaffairs @holland-aisesauce @buckysdoll @kittycatlover18  @softbaby-tom 

if your name is crossed out it means Tumblr won’t let me tag you

[elisajdb]

GoChi Week 2020: Day Three: Third Child

Snippets in Time:

 Expanding Family

 Month Two

 Goku wasn’t sure what happened but something forced him awake tonight. Rolling on his side, he reached for ChiChi. His closed eyes opened when he couldn’t feel her beside him. A sliver of light from the bathroom door and ChiChi’s Ki told Goku ChiChi was inside. Goku laid back in bed preparing to fall asleep when his sharp ears picked up the sounds of sobbing coming from the bathroom.

 Knowing something was wrong, Goku got out of bed. He slowly opened the door to see ChiChi sitting on the edge of the tub crying. Her hands were buried in her face, so she didn’t notice him.

 “ChiChi?”

 ChiChi gasped, startled at Goku’s appearance. “Goku.” ChiChi wiped her eyes. “Do you have to use the toilet? I’ll be out in a moment.”

 “Why are you crying?” ChiChi didn’t answer. In fact, she looked terrified. “What’s that?” he asked of the plastic sticks besides her. “Those look familiar.”

 “It’s nothing,” ChiChi said as she reached for the sticks but Goku was faster.

 He picked one up and sniffed. “Hey, this smells like you, ChiChi.”

 “Goku, it’s….” she sighed, “a pregnancy test.”

 “Pregnancy test?” He remembered those. When ChiChi checked to see if she was pregnant with Gohan, the sink was covered with tests. He looked at ChiChi, understanding her reaction. “Oh.” Goku sat beside her. “It’s okay, ChiChi. We can try again right now for a baby.”

 “No,” ChiChi shook her head. “You misunderstood. I’m pregnant, Goku.”

 Now Goku was confused. If ChiChi is pregnant, why is she crying? “Don’t you want a baby?”

 “Do you?” ChiChi threw the question back at him.

 Goku rubbed the back of his neck. “I never thought about it but, sure why not?” ChiChi wasn’t smiling. “Why don’t you wanna have the baby?”

 “I do but I don’t want this baby to go through what Gohan and Goten went through.” Judging from the blank stare on Goku’s face, he didn’t know what she meant so ChiChi explained, “You missed seven years of Gohan and Goten’s lives. Both very formative. You didn’t deal with Gohan’s depression after you died or watch him grow into a man. You missed a lot of firsts for Goten and didn’t have to console Goten when he couldn’t participate in father/son events. I don’t want to put another child through that.”

 He understood ChiChi’s concerns but Goku argued, “But that happened because I was dead. I’m alive now. I’ll be here for the baby.”

 “For how long?”

 That remark stung but ChiChi had a point. “I can’t predict the future but I wanna be alive for a very long time. You know there will be other fights but dying is a last resort.” He put his arms around ChiChi and hugged her back to his chest. “I’m sorry for dying on you twice, ChiChi, but the next time I die, I want it to happen many years from now and I want you to go first.” ChiChi gazed up at him. Fresh tears were in her eyes. “I wanna be the one who waits.”

 “Goku…..” ChiChi whispered awed. “Thank you.”

 Month Three

 Vegeta rubbed his left shoulder as he stepped out of the gravity room. It was a good workout, but he was ready to take a shower and relax for the evening. He entered his bedroom where Bulma was on the phone. He ignored her talking as he gathered a change of clothes from his chest drawer when he heard Bulma say,

 “That’s great, ChiChi! We have to throw a party in a few months.” Vegeta rolled his eyes. Bulma and those parties. She always finds an excuse to have one. “Ah, come on. It’ll be fun and you may be the last one in our group to do this for a while.” Vegeta turned. What did Bulma mean about that? “The next person will probably be Gohan and Videl.”

 Vegeta observed Bulma puling the phone from her ear. Even from his spot he could hear ChiChi yelling about something. What did Bulma do this time to provoke her?

 “I’m only saying, ChiChi. I won’t be next. Vegeta and I aren’t planning any now.”

 Now Vegeta wanted to know what was going on. He turned to Bulma with a fist hand on his hip. He sent her an ‘I’m pissed and get off the phone look’ to her. It took a few moments but Bulma eventually noticed. “I’ll come by later this week and we can go shopping. Bye.”

 Bulma tapped the ‘end call’ button on her cell phone when Vegeta asked, “What was that about? What aren’t we planning that Kakarrot’s wife is?”

 “ChiChi’s pregnant.”

 “Pregnant?!”

 “Yeah! I was surprised myself.” As Bulma talked, Vegeta rushed to Bulma’s desk and sifted through the papers in the drawers. “She’s six weeks. I thought ChiChi was done having kids. Gohan’s finishing high school and Goten’s been out of diapers for years. To start over again with that age gap between the kids,” Bulma shook her head. “Not for me.”

 When Vegeta didn’t say anything, Bulma looked in his direction and noticed Vegeta tossing paper after paper out of her desk drawer. “What are you doing?” She walked over to him. “You’re making a mess.”

 “Looking for—ha! This!” Vegeta pulled out a blue notebook. He turned several pages, read the content and laughed victorious! “Yes! I was right!”

 Bulma crossed her arms over her chest annoyed. “Right about what?”

 Vegeta turned the notebook around. On the paper were a list of names of everyone except the Son Family. The names started with Bulma and Vegeta, including Yamcha, Krillin, 18 and ending with Oolong and Puar. Next to each name was a date and money amount. By Vegeta’s name was a date, a week off from today’s and 100 zeni. “I won the Baby Pool! There’s 3000 zeni in it. Pay up!”

  Month Four

 She made a mistake looking at the moon. It was by accident of course. ChiChi woke up needing to relieve her bladder. As she washed her hands, she noticed the full moon in the window but looked away too late before realizing what she had done. ChiChi made the mistake looking at the full moon while pregnant with Goten. It created a very sexually frustrating night for her.

 ChiChi didn’t have to worry about being sexually frustrated since her husband was alive but, whoo, the effects of the full moon were hitting her hard. Her breasts throb, she could feel moisture between her legs and tingles of pleasure pulsing from her warm core as her body was filled with a deep, burning need for sex. Just thinking about Goku filled ChiChi with a strong urge to jump on him, rip his clothes off and attack him with kisses, bites and licks before plunging his tool in her wet home riding him with all her strength the rest of the night.

 Refusing to wait anymore, ChiChi climbed back in bed and snuggled with Goku. She began her seduction by nibbling his ear while her fingers caressed his chest, pinching his nipples. It didn’t take long before ChiChi’s touches awakened Goku.

 “ChiChi?” Goku murmured sleepily. He grunted at his ear being tugged by ChiChi’s sharp teeth. “What are you---ah,” his words cut off at ChiChi stroking his penis.

 “I’m hungry for Saiyan meat,” ChiChi whispered in his ear. “You smell so good.” She licked the right side of his face. “I love your taste.”

 “Oof!” Goku grunted as ChiChi straddled him.  Above him ChiChi pulled off her nightgown. His eyes stared at her swollen breasts; lips licked at her stiff nipples. His right hand caressed the swell of her growing stomach and his nose was teased with the tantalizing smell emitting from between ChiChi’s legs. Whoo, she was ready! ChiChi always responded a certain way when she wanted intimacy but Goku couldn’t recall ChiChi acting like this except…. “Did you look at the full moon?”

 ChiChi responded by gripping his boxers and ripping it open. Her lips licked at the sight of his swelling penis. “My prize.”          

 “Hey!” Goku complained. “No fair. You can’t look at the full moon without me.”

 Goku turned his face towards the window but ChiChi slapped him hard turning his face away. “My turn,” ChiChi snarled. “My turn to only see the full moon.” Stunned at ChiChi’s aggressiveness, Goku relented. He watched as ChiChi lower herself further in bed. Grabbing her breasts, ChiChi wrapped them around Goku’s thick penis and squeezed firmly.

 “Ngh!” Goku groaned. It wasn’t as tight as being inside ChiChi but it still felt good to have ChiChi’s breasts wrapped snuggly around his penis. “Feels good, ChiChi. Keep……” Her warm mouth covered the head of his penis sucking Goku as her hands constantly move her breasts, squeezing, moving up and down in a thrusting motion as it smothered Goku’s cock.

 “Hah,” Goku hissed through his teeth. His hips thrust upward to keep in sync with ChiChi’s loving attention. It wasn’t often ChiChi gives him this type of treatment. She gave him attention with her mouth but ChiChi didn’t always get this creative unless she was really in a sexy mood.

 The downside to this attention left Goku spilling before he was ready.

 “Chi!” Goku threw his head back as his hand fisted the bedsheets. His hips shot up, body flared in a golden aura, eyes turned green and hair turned blonde as he exploded in her mouth. ChiChi held on to Goku and took as much as she could in her mouth but Goku’s sudden transformation caught her off guard. ChiChi found herself pushed off Goku’s shaft as Goku exploded like a geyser. He spilled on the sheets, ChiChi’s breasts with a few sprinkles on her face.

 Goku’s hips dropped back on the bed as his recovering body panted. It took a moment before Goku collected himself and recall he transformed into a Super Saiyan and knocked ChiChi off him. Worried he harmed her, Goku sat up. ChiChi sat on the edge of the bed panting and wiping her face.

 “ChiChi, I’m sorry,” Goku apologized. “You were so good and I just lost control.” He slid to her touching her stomach tenderly. “I didn’t hurt you or the baby did I?”

 A drop of his cream was on the corner of ChiChi’s lips. Sticking out her tongue, she licked the cream before rolling her tongue back in her mouth. ChiChi’s elicit moan made Goku rise again. “I forgot how Super Saiyan cream taste,” ChiChi whispered huskily. “So addictive. I can’t get enough.”

 Uh-oh. Goku knew that look. ChiChi looked at him as if he was a meal. Seeing her smile turn predatory, Goku had a feeling he was in sexual trouble. It was good to be in this kind of trouble. Goku was getting harder than a rock. Still when ChiChi got this way, it was a little overwhelming and, in her condition, they had to be careful. Slowly, he slid back. “ChiChi, I know how the full moon gets. Just take it easy. I’m willing to do anything. No need to---Whoa!”

 The next morning, Goten sleepily walked into the kitchen. He expected to find his mother making breakfast but saw his father cooking in front of the stove wearing boxers. It was strange seeing his Dad cook. That was Mom’s job but what really confused Goten were the scratch marks on his Dad’s back. “Dad?” His father turned and to Goten’s surprise there were even more scratches and bite marks all over his Dad’s chest and neck. “What happened to you?”

 Goku rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “Oh, I got into a fight with a bear this morning. Marked me up pretty good.”

 “Oh.” Strange but his Dad did strange things sometimes. Dad was the strongest person in the world to Goten. The idea of his Dad being marked up by a bear had the child giggling. “It looks like the bear won.”

 Goku turned away from Goten muttering, “You got that right.”

 ****

 Month Six

 Eating more is always expected for a pregnant woman. For a woman carrying a half Saiyan baby, the abundance of food she ate was abnormal. Goku’s stomach always made the food bill high. Since his return to life, the food bill doubled. Adding ChiChi’s pregnancy, it tripled. It was never acknowledged who was always hungrier: Goku or ChiChi. It was common thought no matter how hungry ChiChi got it never equaled Goku’s hunger.

 It would’ve remained unchallenged if it were not for Goku coming home one day stating how hungry he is. ChiChi gently argued it didn’t equal her hunger since she is pregnant. Goku foolishly laughed and said his stomach was bigger and ChiChi couldn’t compare. Gohan intervene trying to deescalate the situation but Goku wouldn’t keep quiet and argued his stomach was bigger than ChiChi’s and though she is pregnant will never equal his hunger.

 His innocent laugh and words enrage ChiChi that before Gohan could calm his angry mother, he, Goku and Goten were in the forest hunting for various animals Goku and ChiChi will consume in their eating contest.  

 Goku thought it was all hilarious and he will be declared the winner. No one had a bigger stomach than him. Humoring ChiChi, Goku caught a bear, while Gohan and Goten collected four large Mount Paouz fishes.  

 Plates of cooked fish, bear meat, and an array of vegetables, rice and bread covered the table and counters in the kitchen.

 “This is gonna be fun!” Goten cheered as his parents sat at opposite ends of the table with numerous numbers of plates between them. “I can’t wait to see who wins.”

 “You won’t have to wait long, Goten,” ChiChi told her son. “It’ll be me.”

 “If you say so, ChiChi,” Goku winked at her. “I’m winning this.”

 “Are you ready?” Gohan intervened as the game’s judge. “Get set and go!”

 Goku, a frequent fast eater, quickly piled food in his mouth, chewing nosily and fast. ChiChi ate fast, too, but unlike Goku didn’t choke every few minutes from lack of water to wash down the food. One by one, plate after plate was cleared from the table with Gohan and Goten frequently adding a new dish. Gohan knew his Dad will win but even he was impressed with how many plates his mother emptied. He forgot she ate like this when pregnant with Goten.

 Nearly an hour later, ChiChi felt her stomach getting tight. She looked across the table to Goku still eating at a fast pace; giving no indication he was getting full. She wasn’t going to win. Her temper got the better of her and she was going to lose to her husband who will gloat about this victory.

 “Getting full?” Goku noticed ChiChi’s pace slowing in the last ten minutes. Victory was his. He shouldn’t gloat but he couldn’t help himself. He loved seeing ChiChi get angry with him. “It’s okay to lose, ChiChi. I’m a full Saiyan. You’re carrying a half Saiyan and you’re human. You never had a chance.”

 Goten giggled, Gohan slapped his forehead, and if she could, ChiChi would smack the smirk rising on Goku’s face. Perhaps, she deserved the ribbing. ChiChi wouldn’t mind if Goku did this while alone but mocking her in front of their sons, frustrated ChiChi to the point where she felt he had to pay. Goku wouldn’t lose but she can always argue he only had a slim victory over her.

 ChiChi grabbed the remaining dish of seasoned bear meat and stuffed it in her mouth, eating fast and loud like him but the sounds she made were reminiscent of the sounds she made that got her in her current condition. Gohan was a little suspicious but the sounds went unnoticed by Goten. He was only impressed with how fast and how much his mother ate.

 Goku stared at ChiChi silently watching ChiChi ravenously eat the bear meat. That was impressive but the sounds she made caused his pants to get tight. At the moment, he wasn’t hungry for food. Gripping the table, Goku jumped to his feet; eyes only on ChiChi.

 Gohan’s eyes bugged out of its socket as he noticed the bulge in his Dad’s pants. Gohan didn’t like where this was escalating and as big brother, quickly acted to protect his younger brother. He covered Goten’s eyes and pulled him from the room. “Goten, since Mom and Dad ate all the meat, let’s go hunt something for ourselves.”

 “Ow! Wait, Gohan,” Goten complained as he was carried out of the house. “I can’t see. I wanna finish watching Mom and Dad eating contest.”

 “Uh, contest is over.” The last thing Gohan saw before leaving the house was his father carrying his mother out of the room. “Dad won…. but barely.”  

 Month Eight

 Sleep for a pregnant woman in the advance stages of pregnancy was torture. When it was in the summer, it was pure hell. Sleep was almost impossible when the baby was awake. ChiChi could feel her son or daughter moving around, kicking and punching as it tried to find a comfortable spot. With the unborn child’s home getting smaller as the baby grew bigger, being comfortable was a challenge.  

 Rolling over for the fifth time, ChiChi saw Goku sleeping peacefully and taking up space on the bed. She needed this bed more than Goku. She’s the one who’s carrying the baby. She’s slept in this bed longer than him.

 Pushing Goku a few inches, ChiChi took the space. She laid on her back with her with one hand on her stomach and legs stretched. She was comfortable….. for five minutes.

 This position sent sharp pains in her lower back. It didn’t help the mattress was older and worn. She had it when pregnant with Goten. It was perfect then. Now the aged mattress cause aches in her body.

 “Ow!” ChiChi winced as the baby kicked her painfully. The child was probably making her pay for picking such a poor spot in bed to sleep in.

 While she suffered, Goku happily slept. Jealousy and anger filled her seeing how happy and peaceful her husband slept while she was spent half the night trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

 With a grunt, ChiChi rolled on her left side. A sharp breath escaped her. This spot. It was so soft. It was comfortable. Perfect she thought as she settled a little further. This left her cuddling against her husband. It would be pleasing to cuddle Goku if she wasn’t so hot and Goku wasn’t hogging the one good spot on the mattress. She deserved it more than him. She’s carrying the baby. Not Goku!

 “Goku,” ChiChi whispered. “Goku,” she said louder.

 Goku responded rolling on his side and draping his arm and leg over her. ChiChi was already hot. She didn’t need Goku’s hot Saiyan body smothering her. With a shove, ChiChi pushed Goku off her. She put too much strength in it since Goku rolled away from her, tumbling out of bed.

 The loud thump of his body hitting the floor awakened Goku immediately. “What the..?” Goku looked around puzzled. “Why am I on the floor?”

 Sitting up, Goku saw ChiChi lying on his side of the bed. “What are you doing there, ChiChi? This is my side.”

 “I need it, Goku. I can’t sleep on my side.” A dream sound left her lips. “It’s really and soft and comfy here for me and the baby.”

 “Yeah, but…. that’s my side.”

 “The baby needs this side!” Aggravated, ChiChi shoo Goku away. “Just take mine.”

 Frowning, Goku stood. Whenever ChiChi took something of his, she always said the baby needs it. He wondered if it was just ChiChi needing it and ChiChi using the baby as an excuse.

 Looking at the bed, Goku noticed a problem. ChiChi told him to sleep on her side of the bed but ChiChi laid in a diagonal angle, leaving her body nearly sprawling the entire bed. There was no way he could sleep in the bed unless he curled up in a ball.

 “Uh, I think I’ll sleep on the floor, ChiChi.”

 Silence.

 “ChiChi?”

 Goku pressed his hands on the mattress and leaned over his wife. ChiChi was sound asleep wearing the same happy smile he wore before ChiChi woke him.  “Hmph,” Goku grunted as he grabbed a pillow laid it on the floor. “One more month. One more month,” he muttered over and over.

 ****

 Month Nine

 “This is wrong, Videl. You have to use the cosine function to solve this problem. You used the sine function.” Gohan flipped his pencil over and erased the formula Videl wrote to solve her trigonometry problem.

 Videl leaned closer to Gohan reading the formula he wrote. “I thought I was using cosine. Opposite over the hypotenuse.”

 Gohan shook his head. “That’s sine, Videl. Cosine is adjacent over hypotenuse.”

 Videl groaned irritably. “I hate trigonometry! I’ll be lucky to get a D out of this class.”

 “You won’t get a D,” Gohan told her as he finished writing the solution to her math problem. “I can help you get a B at least.”

 While Gohan focused on her math homework, Videl was focused on him. He was so sweet, so helpful and just so cute.

 “Gohan?”

 Gohan turned his head. “Yes, Videl?”

 Videl pressed her lips to Gohan’s. The pencil in Gohan’s hand rolled on the paper as Gohan wrapped his arm around Videl returning her kiss. Gohan felt Videl shift as she settled more comfortable against Gohan while they tenderly kissed.

 As he and Videl made out, Gohan felt something wrong. A presence. One of Gohan’s eyes opened to see his father standing over him and Videl with his head cocked to the side looking confused.

 Gohan pushed Videl away, knocking her several feet from him. “Dad!” Gohan gasped with a cherry colored face. “What are you doing here?”

 “What are you doing?” Goku asked. “You’re kissing Videl. You told Mom you were only gonna do homework.”

 “W-we were,” Gohan stammered. “We, uh….ah, um, were taking break.” His heart pounded in his chest and his skin felt so warm. Caught making out with his girlfriend in front of his Dad. How embarrassing. Hoping to change the subject, Gohan asked. “Why are you here?”

 “Mom’s in labor. I came to get you.”

 “Labor.” Embarrassing kiss forgotten, Gohan quickly gathered his books. No wonder Dad popped in with his teleportation trick. “Let me get my stuff.”

 Videl returned to father and son. Her face wasn’t nearly as flustered as Gohan. It was embarrassing but Videl was glad it wasn’t her father who caught her and Gohan making out. As Gohan zipped his bag, she told him, “Call me when the baby is here.”

 “I will.” Gohan leaned forward to kiss Videl goodbye but realized his father was still watching. “Uh, I’ll call.”

 Gohan touched Goku’s arm. He waved goodbye as he and his Dad vanished before her eyes.

 Goku left Gohan with Goten and Gyumao in the waiting room. He joined ChiChi in her hospital room who was being examined by Dr. Barkley.

 “Looks like you’re dilated enough to push.” Dr. Barkley lowered the bedsheet as Goku teleported back in the room. The older doctor smiled at Goku’s arrival. “Goku, it’s good to see you back for this one. Ready to do your part?”

 Goku flashed a victory sign. “Yup!”

 Son Keiko was the easiest birth for ChiChi. With Goku by her side, occasionally giving her his Ki, the delivery was without any complications and very mild pain. Goku was very hands on with this birth, cutting Keiko’s umbilical cord, helping Dr. Barkley clean baby Keiko and standing over her as she examined the baby before placing her in the happy mother’s arms.

 Alone, Goku and ChiChi marveled at their little blessing. ChiChi held their baby while Goku sat in bed with her. Goku stared at the small bundle wrapped snugly in her yellow blanket. Like Gohan as a newborn, Keiko’s eyes were open, curious at the two people staring at her.

 “She looks like you,” Goku remarked at Keiko’s eyes.

 “But your hairstyle,” ChiChi added at the tufts of black spike in Keiko’s hair. “A Saiyan trait.”

 “Yeah, but no tail,” Goku thought glumly. “Only Gohan was born with one.”

 “I have a theory about that. Gohan wasn’t conceived when you were a Super Saiyan. Goten and Keiko were.”

 Goten was definitely conceived while he was a Super Saiyan but Goku wasn’t sure about Keiko. “Are you sure? I wasn’t Super Saiyan every time.”

 “But you were most time. Sometimes you came by transforming.” ChiChi shook her head. “I swear you get off on trying to kill me.”

 Kill her? From the way ChiChi acted intimately when he’s in Super Saiyan form, she loved it. In fact, “Hold on. You wanted to be intimated when I was Super Saiyan Three. It’s probably how we got Keiko.”

 ChiChi turned her head to Goku stunned. “I did not! I….. I…..” Goku’s sly smile silenced ChiChi.  Come to think of it, she did ask to see this transformation. As she touched his face and hair, studying Goku’s new form, one thing led to another…..

 “Well,” ChiChi turned her attention back to their daughter. A thought occurred to her as she realized the implications of creating a child while Goku is in Super Saiyan Three. “You’re training this one then. Goten almost broke my back when he transformed for the first time. Let our daughter kill you this time and not me.”

 Goku laughed. “I doubt Keiko will be that diff—” he paused. Did ChiChi really say…? “Are you serious, ChiChi? I can train Keiko?”

 The breathless tone in Goku’s voice had ChiChi gazing back at her husband. He looked so hopeful, imploring she really meant it. “Yes, Goku. You can train Keiko. After Gohan and Goten, I think we have enough experience to find the perfect balance in training our daughter and allowing her to get an education. This baby is a blessing, Goku. My only wish is she gets to grow up with both us; that she receives training by her Daddy, the strongest man in the universe.” She received a tender kiss from Goku. “And an education but decides for herself what she wants to do with her life and we support it no matter what. Deal.”

 Goku broke many promises to ChiChi but this was one Goku vow to never break. “Deal.”

 The door opened with Goten, Gohan and Gyumao walking in with balloons, flowers and gifts ready to meet, love and protect the newest member of the Son Family, Son Keiko.

[prorevenge]

[Long Story] My life of abuse in the foster care system with multi-revenge.

Background

The story I want to tell you is full of sadness and heartache. I started out life in poverty living with my parents in a house that had some wooden floors and mostly dirt floors. My mother has a long list of mental issues and my father was an alcoholic and thankfully not the abusive type. Me and my sister were taken from our home when I was 7 and she was 4. We got placed into the foster care system in Kentucky. I'm not going to use real names, but I will use the initials of their names. It's my understanding at the time foster parents in Kentucky could have up to four kids per room and they didn't have a limit of how many a single foster parent could keep. LD's home was a long house with six bed rooms and she was keeping at least eight kids at a time. In the foster care system it's not uncommon to see a child stay with us just for a week and then be released back to the family, so we had different kids come and go all the time.

The Foster Family

The foster home we went to was ran by a woman we'll call LD and she was a widow. Her husband had passed away in the 80s. She had 4x sons and 1x daughter. Her youngest son we'll call JPD was still living with her because he had fallen from a truck when he was a kid and damaged his skull. This caused him to have a learning disability and he couldn't read or write and at the time of me living with them he was about 26 years old. Her other son CD was the oldest and he was a plumber. Another son is DD and he owned five large farms and ran a grocery store. The fourth son was CCD and he died in the 80s from being shot. Her only daughter was SD and she was very kind to us.

The Beginning

When we entered the foster care system it was a really scary time for us and I'll never forget the screams of our parents as they ripped us from our home. Because we didn't have running water and electricity the old barn converted into a house wasn't suitable for children according to our social worker. When I first arrived I had broken my wrist and had my arm in a cast. The first thing we did was go shopping for clothes as I didn't bring any with me. When we return from shopping I put my things away and was then given a trash bag and told to go outside and not come back in until all of the loose trash was picked up. Just to let you know now, this was more of a work camp instead of a loving and caring home. While I was picking up trash JPD was in the swimming pool they had beside the home. He yelled for me to come to him and he asked me if I wanted to swim. I told him I didn't know how to swim and I can't because of my obvious broken arm. He then grabbed me and tossed me into the pool and I screamed for help. I really felt like I was going to die that day. He took his time but jumped in and pulled me out. He told me to stop crying as if I would have drowned no one would have cared because I didn't matter. I remember his words like it was yesterday. When I finally got to bed that night I couldn't sleep and I cried the whole night missing my parents. Little did I know this was just the beginning of a hard 12 years of life to come.

Big Ben, Sexual Abuse and My First Revenge

When I first arrived I was told by LD that another boy will be sharing my room with me and he was away at camp for the week. I arrived at her house when school was out for the summer. His real name wasn't Ben at all and we'll call him BB. BB had been in the home for a while and he was about to turn 18 and when you turn 18 the foster care system lets you go as you're an adult now. When he returned from camp he was a very large guy, and I'm guessing about 6'2 and 230+ pounds. When I first met him things seemed to be fine, but it was the first night of him being back that he tried to molest me. I have a hard time sleeping as it is because everyday I wanted to leave and be back with my parents. He got up from his bed that's on the other side of the room and then got into mine. He tried to force his penis into my mouth. He held my nose shut so that I couldn't breath and I had no choice but to open my mouth. As he did this I did bite him as it was the only thing I could think to do. He jumped off of me and smacked me so hard it knocked me out as I don't remember anything else.

The next morning when I got up with my face hurting and my mouth busted I ran to tell LD what he did to me. She took me into her bedroom to talk about it and I told her everything. When she confronted him about it he said I was trying to steal his money and he smacked me for it. I told her that's not true and he checked his wallet for his money and couldn't find it. He asked me for his money back and LD searched my pockets. She pulled out $20 and she knew I had no money, she told me I was going to be punished and made me scrub the front porch. BB had put his money in my pocket after he knocked me out and I have no idea what else might have happened to me during that time. That night I cried and was sitting by the bed room door in fear of being hurt again. I did this for a few nights and didn't get any sleep hardly. I was falling asleep outside doing work and getting in trouble for it.

One day I'm in my room playing with hot wheels another foster kid let me have. BB walks in and closes the door and I just start screaming. He quickly jumps on me and covers my mouth and LD is outside doing something and doesn't hear me. He tells me if I scream again he's going to smack me again and I'm only 7 with a broken arm, I really can't do anything. He spits into my mouth and makes me swallow it while he lays on top of me. I don't know what else would have happened to me because LD came back inside and called for him to do something. This time I didn't lay and cry at all, I just laid in place thinking about what to do. I decide I'm not going to let him keep hurting me so I go to the kitchen and sneak a fillet knife into my room and I put it under my pillow.

That night he get's up and jumps into my bed. He told me to remember what will happen if I scream or resist. I tell him I understand. I slip the knife from under the pillow and hid it under the covers. He then pushes me down to his penis again and that's when I let him have it. I slashed and cut him as many times as I could. He quickly disarms me and runs out of the room into the bathroom. I run to wake up LD and I told her what happened and she called 911. She told me not to say a word to the cops about what happened and to go back to bed. BB and LD told the cops he had been sleep walking and he didn't mean to cut himself. She told me if I come out of my room and say anything the cops, they wouldn't believe me because I'm a lair. After this happened BB never came back and I don't know what happened to him but I knew I wasn't going to ever let anyone do that to me again. A really shitty thing LD did to me was force me to wash the bed and the carpet of all the blood from BB. I had to scrub the bedroom, kitchen and bathroom as punishment.

Verbal Abuse, Slave Work and Sexual Abuse to Girls

Being told that you were worthless; didn't matter to anyone; you'll never be anything; was commonly said from JPD and LD as they used that to demoralize the kids. They treated all of the foster kids this way and would tell us we are lucky to be living with them as this is the only way we wouldn't be in jail or dead. They told us if we ever left we would end up in and out of jail because we are just as worthless as our parents. Anytime any of the kids wanted to do any after school event or even play sports they would tell them they don't matter or will never be anything so why waste the time now. I was also threatened to be put into a boys home away from my sister if I ever told anyone about how LD treated us. At a young age you don't know any better sadly and you're to scared to think otherwise.

All of the boys worked the farms of DD and we didn't get to bed until about 11PM. We got up every morning at 4AM to do farm work with feeding cows, chickens and pigs. After we finished our work in the morning we had to quickly scramble to get cleaned up for school as the bus arrived at 6:20ish AM every day. You never had time to do any school work after you got home because you had to eat and then get back outside. It made passing classes in school really hard because I only had the bus ride home to get my homework done. DD had lots of tobacco farms and as you can image he was doing really well for himself because he had free labor all year long. Raising tobacco isn't an easy job by any means and it's even harder when your just a kid. This kind of life went on for the whole time I was at the home and nothing ever got better.

Remember that this foster home keeps boys and girls from all walks of life. Also remember that LD's 20 something son JPD lives with her as well. One night I was up going to the bathroom when I could hear faint crying. The crying was coming from the girls room and I went to find out what was wrong. I opened the door to find JPD having sex with a girl that was about 16 years old or so. I ran to tell LD and he quickly ran out of the room after me. All of the noise woke LD up and JPD told her the caught me sneaking into the girls room. At this point I'm about ten years old or so and I try to explain to her what happened. She told me I'm telling lies and I should be ashamed of myself. She told me JPD would never do such a thing and I was in serious trouble tomorrow. I talked with the girl on the school bus the next morning and she said it was her idea to have sex. She told me she had been flirting with him and she was hungry for sex. I told her I was going to tell the social workers and she said if I did she would claim it never happened. When I did get home I was punished to clean out this old crappy garbage bin they have behind the home and it was full of loose garbage from bags getting ripped. The garbage bin was built of wood pallets and it was really large. They refused to give me any gloves to pick up the trash and as you might know, trash normally has food in it too. Of course all of this is rotten and full of maggots. It took me about six hours to clean it out.

Later that week when we went to the social workers office for our visitation with my parents I told the social worker what happened to the girl and she pulled me into a private room to talk about it. I told her everything that was happening and she told me she'll stop by tomorrow after we get home from school for a surprise visit. What I found out later in life is that the social workers in my county hated conflict and paper work, so they would always give the foster homes a heads up on visits. The next day when we arrived home her car was sitting in our drive way. When I walked in she took the girl out to her car to have a talk. While the social worker was away LD tells me she know's what I've done and I'm going to wish I had never opened my mouth. The social worker comes back with the girl and sits in the living room with LD, JPD, me and all of the other foster kids. She goes on to tell us the importance of telling the truth and makes an example out of me. She told the other kids not to tell lies like I do as it causes un-needed stress and issues for everyone. After she left LD told me she's going to make me pay for this and it might not be today but one day (remember this phrase).

Getting Adopted and Physical Abuse

When I turned 16 I had been in the foster care system for about 8 years and my parents finally signed us over to the state. My social worker told me she's going to place us in line to be adopted and we will be visiting with new parents in the following weeks. I was very heart broken but I was also excited as I couldn't wait to get away from LD and her family. Weeks go by and we never get to visit anyone and I started to get worried. One day LD comes to school to pick us up and tells us we are getting adopted today! I was really confused because we hadn't meet with anyone. We arrive at the social workers office and go in with LD. We go into a room where my parents are and paper work is on the table. Because I was 16 I had to sign paper work stating that I understood what was going on. The social worker tells me LD is going to adopt us and I start crying on the spot. I tell them I would rather be dead then to be adopted by her and the social worker told me she understands my anger because I hate to obey rules. She was convinced that I was hating LD because I was a rebel and the normal teenager who hated following rules at this age. I told her that's not true and she said she knows it to be true and she doesn't want to hear me tell any more lies. My parents are both crying and they have already signed the paper work weeks ago. LD signs hers and I refused to sign mine. The social worker told me if I don't sign it, it doesn't change anything as I'll still be adopted by LD.

On the way home from the social workers office LD looks up in the mirror and gives me a long gaze that I'll never forget. She then says, "I told you one day you'll pay for what you've done and that day has arrived." I felt chills run down my spine and I was really in complete shock. Even as I type this out now I still get that same chill running down my spine and I can see her eye's glaring at me in the mirror. Now that she adopted me and my sister we were no longer protected by the foster care system. With foster kids, you're not allowed to lay a hand on them to discipline them and now that we are adopted that's out the window. Now, more abuse starts that we never had before. Now when LD gets mad she would throw things at me, hit me with coffee cups, remote controls, chairs or anything else she could get her hands on. JPD then began to beat me like I was a man when I talked back to him or not doing what he said the second he said it.

At this point I felt broken and alone. My sister was treated like a princess and it's because she arrived at the home when she was 4, so she only knows LD as her only parent and always did what she commanded. My sister at the time had no real understanding of who LD was and how awful her family was. My sister was over the moon about being adopted and having LD's last name. My sister was basically brainwashed into thinking LD could do no wrong and that I was just a troublemaker. I felt like I had lost the only family I had, she was my everything and I sacrificed so much because I never wanted to be separated from her.

My Father Passed Away

My grand plan in life was to turn 18 and go live with my parents away from LD and her family. It wasn't long after I was adopted that my father was diagnosed with cancer in his throat. I was crushed by this news as my father was my hero. I was only with my parents until the age of 7, but they truly loved us and provided for us the best they could. My parents had never raised a hand to us growing up and treated us with the love kids need. My sister and I had monthly visits with our parents while in foster care and never missed any of them. We would get dropped off at the social workers office where our parents would walk with us to the local park and play. They didn't have a car or anything and used a local program for people in poverty to get access to transpiration. We had a local program ran by the county that would pick people up and drive them to the grocery store, doctor visits, and court. It was like Uber but it was limited as to where they would take you and how often.

My uncle is helping my parents the most that he can and he takes my father for all of this chemo treatments. He is also coming to LD's to pick us up to go and see my parents. At this point we're doing home visits with my parents as it's not easy for my father to travel. My father has been fighting with cancer for little over a year at this point. One day we are home for a visit with my father and he's in really bad shape. While he was gone for a chemo treatment someone broke into his house and stole all of his pain medication. My uncle tried to get the medication refilled and was turned away because they didn't have a police report. My father knew who stole the pills and didn't want to turn him in as cops to poor people is the enemy. I was in art class and was called to the front office to take a call. My uncle had called to tell me my father tried to commit suicide and he's being transported to the hospital. He told me he was on his way to pick me and my sister up to go see him.

My father lasted a few days and passed away from his liver shutting down. I was able to see him before he died and he could squeeze my hand to let me know he could understand me. I made sure to tell him how much I loved him and I promise to make him proud. I'm telling this part of the story because of how LD and her family treated me afterwards. They told me that deadbeats like my father are lazy people who draw a check every month paid for by working people. They said it's a good thing he's dead and now my mother needs to drop dead as she draws a check too. They told me this on the way home from the hospital! I sit in the main back of the van in silence and not shedding a tear. I was no longer going to let them control me and keep me down. I made a promise to myself that I will do everything in my power to be better than them and one day I would show them what my pain feels like. My father passed away on October 25th, 12x days before I would turn 18 on Nov 7th. My mother was soon after awarded to the state and placed into a nursing home due to her mental issues.

Making It on My Own

The day after we put my father to rest I started working with my uncle painting barns and sealing drive ways. When I lived with my parents I missed to much school when I was in the first grade and failed. So getting out of high school I would be 19 years old. I had plans to go to Huston TX and learn underwater welding as that's where the money was. My uncle was paying me even on days we didn't find any work to make sure I had enough money to make it on my own. I had saved up about $1,200 and graduated high school. My uncle had paid a driver to take me and LD down to TX. LD had to go with me because I under the age of 25 and she had to sign paper work stating she wouldn't be helping me with any student loans. We set out for TX and we are driving her van as my uncle's truck had broken down the day before and he only had his huge work truck that wouldn't be feasible to take. We get about 4 hours into the trip and LD is getting frustrated. She told us she's tired of being in the van and she no longer wants to do this. She orders the driver to pull over in the next city. He does as she says because it's her van and she kicks me out onto a sidewalk. I have a bag of cloths and $1,200 in my pocket. They then take off and I watch them drive away and I keep watching for a few moments to make sure they are not coming back.

I felt a relief sensation rush over my body, I'm free! I'm finally free! Of course this isn't where I wanted to be at as 4 hours south of Kentucky isn't TX at all. I picked up my bag and walked up the side walk and I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do. I could get a bus ticket and make my way down to TX but I don't have the first idea where a bus station is. Please understand that I had never been outside of my home town before this. I had never even met a person of any other race before. All I've ever done was go to school and work on a farm. I had no real education and hardly made it out of school. I come across a school in a shopping center and I decided to check it out. The school isn't even around today and was shut down because it a for profit school that gave you no value, and of course I had no idea at the time. I walk in and talk with the front desk about getting info on the school. She sends me to talk with a lady in admissions and I explain to her my situation. She tells me how I can get funding to go here and how she can get my housing tonight. They had a school housing program where they would put four students in a two bedroom apartment. She had me forge LD's signature on paper work about financial aid. I go to this two year college and get a Associates Degree in Computer Science. I start working for a major computer company right out of college. I save every dime I can and only spend money when I need to. I buy my first truck with cash a year after starting at my job.

My Second Revenge

I was still keeping tabs on my sister back in Kentucky. At this point my sister is about to get married and I'm going to walk her down the aisle at the church LD always took us to growing up. Please understand that LD is a big figure at her church and well respected, this is important to understand for later. I drive up the weekend of the wedding and get a hotel room about an hour outside of where we grew up. My sister's best friend in the world and that's even true today calls me and we'll call her KB. She tells me that my sister's fiance is abusive to her and she want's to call the wedding off but LD told her she couldn't and not to embarrass her at the church. LD knows that he's abusive to my sister and has told her she needs to obey him as he will be her husband. On the day of the wedding I walk my sister down the aisle like normal. The pastor does his thing and says some words and what not then comes the part where he asks if anyone thinks they shouldn't be married they must speak now. This is where I stand up and say, "I object to my sister being married to an abusive drunk." You could hear a pin drop for a moment and LD's face is blood red. I then go on to say how LD had know about the abuse and told my sister she was going to get married no matter what and not to "embarrass her" here today. LD then loudly exclaims that I'm a known lair and everyone knows they can't believe a word I say. The pastor at this point asks me to please leave and my sister spoke up for me. Telling everyone that what I had said was the truth and we ran out of the church together. LB was later removed from the church management and asked to please not come back to the church as they don't believe in abuse (I know what you're thinking). Oh man, I wish I could have been in the pastor's office to hear this conversation and to see the look on her face. After all of this happened my sister moved in with KB where she would later meet her husband.

The Final Revenge

It had been about 7 years now from the wedding crash. I'm now married and I have a house of my own and living a great life. My sister had married a real man who treats her right and they have a great little girl together. KB is now working at the county court house and does a lot of work with properties and taxes. She calls me one day to tell me LD's property tax is way behind and they didn't get the tax lien lifted and now they will have a tax deed sale of the property. I knew this was my time to strike and pay them back for a fraction of the pain they had caused me. I show up at the auction and the only other person to show up was JPD and his wife. When he noticed me he turned pale and then tried to be all buddy buddy with me. I was very friendly and he asked me why I'm here. I tell him it's to help keep the property in the family and I had no problem helping out. I let him know if I get ownership I'll pay the taxes for them so they won't need to worry about this being a problem again ever again. His brother DD had given him the money needed to purchase the property back so he had cash with him to pay for the taxes and fees. I told him to keep the cash and let them know you took care of the taxes. So the bidding starts at a little over $2,000 because of the back due taxes and fees. I bid on it and JPD doesn't. I easily win and now have instant ownership of the propriety. I go down the the court house with JPD and I finish all of the paper work with KB.

LD had fallen behind on the property taxes because she was giving the money to JPD to pay it. Well it turns out JPD is what we call a "pill head" and was using the money to buy drugs. LD didn't keep foster kids anymore because of her age she wasn't allowed to so they didn't have any money coming in besides disability and SSI. When I arrived to the house I told LD how I regret being a horrible child and now that I'm older I've grown out of it. I let her know how much of a mother she was to me when I didn't have one and that I was here to pay her back. I told her now that I own the property she'll never need to worry about property taxes ever again. I let her know I'm going to remodel her house but she can't live in it at the same time. I told her this works out, because I won the bid the county would automatically evict them. LD is a person who thinks we've never been to the moon, so tricking her into believing me was easy. She told me she could stay at DD's house while I'm remodeling hers and she was very excited. I told her not to worry about any of the belongs they have as I'll make sure they are covered up and moved when needed. I tell her a lawyer will be sending some paper work over to her in a few days. I then hire a lawyer to do an ejectment of LD and JPD from the property. I don't know if I could have done this a different way, but this was the advice I was given at the time. It took about two months for everything to be fully mine and them evicted. With them evicted and now that all the belongs have stayed in the house past 30 days, I now own all of it.

I got in contact with the local fire department to find out what I needed to do in order to burn a house down on my property. They informed me that it has to be a controlled burn, I'll need a permit to close off the road as the home sits near a public road and I had to have the water shut off and the power disconnected. The water was easy but it took awhile for the power because they had to remove all the wires running to the pole and remove the transformer. The fire department gave me a date and time I was allowed to do the burning and I coordinated with the sheriffs office to close the road. I got my permit from the city and now I just had to sit and wait.

The day of the great fire, I prep the house with lots of straw inside and I made sure to take all of the doors down and open all of the windows as I wanted this to burn as fast as possible. I go to DD's house to visit JPD and LD. I told them I wanted to take them out by the old oak tree for lunch. This tree was in a field across the road from the home. When we worked on the farm we would eat lunch in the summer under the shade of this tree. LD is in a wheelchair and JPD has a bad back so he doesn't move around too well and almost needs a wheelchair. Drop them off and I tell them to enjoy the snacks and I'll be right back as I'm going to set fire to the old stuff I ripped out of the house. It's really common for people where we live to burn trash. I called the fire department to let them know I was going to start the fire and made sure they had the address. I met with the officers closing the road off let them know I was about to begin and they might encounter some family members trying to get by them and not to let them. I then went behind and started fires from under the house with packed straw. I'm standing beside them while they eat and chat with me about life and what I've been doing with my career. It's not too long before the fire starts to peek around the sides of the home. They start screaming about the fire and we need to call 911. This is when I told them I had the road closed and the fire department already knew that I was going to burn my house down on my property. I told them what they are seeing is just a fraction of the pain they had caused me over the course of my life and I want them to know what a fraction of my pain feels like as I could never fully make them understand. At this point JPD is trying to call his brothers and I reminded him I have the road closed and they can't get by. It takes less than 20 minutes for the house to collapse into a heap of junk. The whole time I'm watching them as they sit and sob. JPD tries to fight me and I just just move away from him as he's high and can't really move well anyway. About 30 minutes as passed and the fire gone with just smoke and embers glowing. I get in my car and drive back home knowing that they have now lost almost everything they have. They didn't lose has much as I have, but it was the closest thing to it.

Closing

LD passed away in 2010 and JPD lives with this wife in an old trailer somewhere. I still own the property today and refuse to sell it to anyone because I don't want them to ever have the chance of owning the property again. I go back every year to check on the property to make sure they haven't moved a trailer on it or something on my land. From my understanding the property was in the family for more than 100 years. I haven't talked to any of them and never plan to. What I want is anyone reading this to take away that abuse is never ok, EVER! If you're being abused do not listen to the people abusing you. They will lie and put you down to hold control over you. If you can help anyone that you know that's being abused please, please help them get help.

Writing none of this was easy, but after writing about people screwing me over in life as an adult I felt a great relief and I had some people message me about how my story helped them. I hope this story can help someone else and just so you know I don't wish death or harm to LD's family. Yes they were in the wrong for how they treated me and other kids, but I've learned you can't control the past but you can have influence on your future.

(source) story by (/u/Citrow)

[glowrioustrash]

Well That’s Embarassing

Summary: Mox goes to the mall with his girlfriend but quickly grows bored. Luckily, they have a game they play sometimes where they try to embarrass each other in public.

Pairing: Jon Moxley x OC (Dani)

Word Count: 1500+

Warnings: False, humorous accusations of kinks and medical issues? It’s an odd one, feel free to message me if you have concerns. The whole premise is them saying fake things in public to embarrass each other so it gets pretty silly.

Author’s Note: Hey, I’m alive! Well obviously I am, I have been reblogging stuff but I wrote a thing! Wow! Thanks to @kingcorbean and @vonschweetz for their help in it <3 The post that gave me the initial idea is at the very end.

Also apparently in the time I’ve been gone they took away line breaks? Gross.

I don’t have any tag list anymore it’s been eons, but I’m also tagging @robwiethoff because I love her.

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Just go by yourself.”

“But that’s not as fun.”

“So?”

A groan was his only warning before his lap was suddenly occupied. Dani’s legs hung over the arm of the chair he was sitting in as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He made a show of it, letting a woosh of air escape as if she had knocked the wind out of him - she couldn’t knock the wind out of him even if she tried, he was used to being tackled by men 3 times her size.

“C’mon Mox.” She pouted at him.

“I don’t want to go to the mall.” He told her plainly, his face unamused even as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He might not be interested in going to the mall, but he’d never be upset about his girl in his lap.

“Jon.” She whined, dragging out his name. He responded by mocking her, whining wordlessly back at her. She tried to fight back the laughter at his girlish noise but a small smile broke through.

“Just go to the mall. Take my card, get whatever you want.” He offered.

“But who will tell me if I look good if you’re not there?” She huffed, leaning into his chest.

“Someone who works there.” He shrugged.

“They tell you look good in everything so you buy more.”

“They’re right, you do look good in everything.”

“Jon.” She whined again, adding a wiggle of her hips for good measure.

“You really want me to go?” He sighed.

“Yes.” She sat up, smiling brightly at him.

“You want me to go, be miserable, make fun of all the stores we go into, and sit around while you try on clothes?” He reiterated, trying to make her reconsider.

“Yes.”

“You want me to complain the whole time we’re walking around, asking how much longer until we can leave, reminding you every 5 minutes that you owe me big time?”

“Did I mention I’m stopping at Victoria’s Secret?”

“Why didn’t you say so, woman?!” His entire demeanor changed, perking up at the thought. He tightened his arms around her as he stood, picking her up. She laughed as he started walking towards the garage. “Let’s go to the mall!”

It didn’t take long for Moxley to grow bored of the mall as Dani wanted to stop in at several other stores before Victoria’s Secret. They were in some home decor store when he decided to try and hurry it along. He saw a horse figurine and picked it up before calling her name loudly.

“Hey Dani, we should get this for your sister. You know, the one that likes to fuck horses.” He spoke loudly, making sure any shoppers in the area could hear.

Dani’s eyes widened at first before narrowing, knowing exactly what game they were about to be playing. They’d done this a million times before, trying to embarrass the other in public for fun.

*****

The airport was busy around them as they said goodbye. Dani was used to him leaving to go back on the road, but it was harder now that he was wrestling in Japan. It was so much farther, the time difference was huge. He was going to be gone for almost a whole month before he got a chance to come visit.

“I gotta go.” He spoke softly, the moment just for them in the hustle and bustle of the airport.

“I know.” She admitted sadly, tears threatening to spill over as she loosened her grip on him.

“I’ll call every day.” He promised.

“You better or I’ll fly there to kick your ass.” She threatened weakly.

“If that’s the case, maybe I won’t call.” He teased, making her laugh softly.

“Don’t you dare.” She pouted, pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“Miss you already.” He murmured against her lips.

“Miss you more.” She replied, reluctantly releasing her hold on him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Let me know when you land.”

“Always do.” He pecked her on the lips once more before joining the line through security.

Dani brushed away at the tears that had started to fall, cursing herself for being so emotional as she watched him progress through the line. She was happy for him, this is what he wanted to do. He was happy and healthy, he had a spark he’d been missing for years.

“Hey Jon!” She called out to him, refusing for their good bye to be so mushy. “Take care of that rash, okay!”

He grinned, taking a few steps forward as the line moved. “Okay, but remember to wipe front to back while I’m gone.” He called back.

Dani laughed, seeing the shocked and disgusted looks on the people around him in line. “I will. Your hemorrhoid cream is packed in your carry-on. Take care of your butthole.”

“Thanks for letting me borrow it.” He answered as he moved to the front of the line. He lowered the shades he was wearing to wink at her before stepping into the area where she couldn’t see him anymore.

*****

“No, no. She didn’t fuck a horse. She said that being with another man after you was *like* fucking a horse.” Dani shot back. “Because of your tiny penis.”

“Your mom didn’t think it was tiny.” He shrugged, setting the figurine back on the shelf.

“My dad had a micropenis, I wouldn’t trust her.” Dani responded flippantly as she continued to browse.

By the time he had his comeback loadad, asking her how she knew, she’d already moved to the next aisle.

Point Dani. Game on.

...

“I don’t care if you consent, I’m not putting all of these candlesticks in your ass.”

Point Mox.

...

“Oh, we need to get some puppy pads. I’m tired of cleaning your explosive diarrhea out of the carpet.”

Point Dani.

...

“This dress would look really nice on you, but it might show off all those boils you’re trying to hide.”

Point Mox.

...

“I’m not comfortable bringing any blow-up holiday decorations into the house until you can promise you’re not going to try to have sex with it.”

Point Dani.

...

It carried on throughout several stores and it didn’t speed up their shopping at all, but at least Moxley was having fun now. By the time they made it to the final stop, his arms were full of bags from the other stores. His annoyance of being dragged along and having to carry all Dani’s bags lessened as he wondered what in the store Dani was going to be trying on.

“You can go set those down and sit in the boyfriend chair if you want.” She told him with a peck to his cheek. Mox nodded and headed to the back of the store where he’d find the chair. He stopped a few racks away from Dani as he saw a display mannequin wearing a lacy blue thing with straps all over the place.

“How about this?” He pointed it out to her, wiggling his eyebrows.

Dani dropped the bra she was looking at and came to see what he was pointing out. She looked it over, feeling the fabric between her hands. “It’s nice,” she agreed, “but the last time you wore lace you complained about the chafing.” She smirked.

Before he could respond, she shot him a challenging look and picked one up off the table, the look clearly saying that if he wanted her to try it on, he should accept the defeat. He kept his mouth shut, not entirely sure who won the point considering he was walking away quite happy with himself.

After browsing, Dani made her way to the change room to try things on. She stepped out of the room to get his opinion on a few of them (his opinion always varying degrees of “yes get it” and “wow that’s hot”) but kept a few for later surprises. When she left the change room ready to buy, she had an armful of multicolored garments, lace and silk and cotton all mixed in.

Moxley stood behind her while the items were being scanned and bagged. He was happy to notice the strappy blue piece made the cut - she hadn’t let him see it on so it must be good.

“I’m going to rip that off of you with my teeth.” He claimed happily as he watched the piece being folded gently. Dani looked back at him in surprise while the cashier turned pink at the declaration.

“Stop it, that’s embarrassing.” Dani admonished with a gleam in her eye. “You’re my brother, you need to stop saying things like that.”

Mox sputtered as the cashier looked up in shock at the two of them. The poor woman quickly looked back down and focused on finishing the transaction. She took the credit card without looking either of them in the eye, running off as soon as she handed Dani her bags. Dani handed them off to a still shocked Moxley, who followed her dumbly out of the store.

“You okay back there?” Dani finally asked once they had passed a few stores, looking back over her shoulder at him.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” was the only thing he could think to say.

“I assumed I would.” She shrugged coyly as she slowed down to walk beside him.

“Tonight.” He promised.

“I’ll be the one in blue.”

[deadwoodpecker]

This is a bit of a scene set in the Peverell AU. It’s from Ginny’s POV. If I post it on ffn, I’m probably going to name it the Weasley Dilemma

Ginny had a great many things to do: finalize her list of all the things she needed from Fred and George’s shop before she quit to focus on The Turnip full time, decide exactly what she would tell her family she was doing with her time, tidy up her living space, and finish her article. Instead, she sat cross-legged in front of the fireplace, listening to her mother, while her mind was focused on the very small package she’d hidden under her covers.

Not that anyone was likely to see it, but Ginny needed that extra protection of her privacy...

“...do you want, Ginny?”

Ginny startled and heat gathered in her cheeks. “What do I want?”

“For your birthday tea,” her mother explained patiently. “Everyone’s coming... the sooner I know what you want, the better.”

Get ahold of it, Ginny scolded herself. She would be twenty years old in two weeks. The days when she’d first started doing what she planned to as soon as her mother was finished chatting were long gone — Ginny wasn’t that fourteen year old anymore. There was no cause to feel the flush she did, or the worry that somehow her mother would figure out she’d been shopping in Carn Alley.

“Ginny?” Molly prodded.

“Um, can... can we just have everyone pick their own favorite meal?” Ginny asked.

“Everyone pick their own?” Molly asked. She blinked several times. “I could do that... it would certainly keep your brothers from complaining...”

“The gits,” Ginny said, smiling. “They‘ll still find something to complain about.”

“They better not, it’s your birthday, and you’ve a right to choose,” said Molly. “Well, dear, I’ll be off then. I still need to tidy up after last night...” Her head bobbed back and forth in the flames. “It looks as though you’ll be doing the same thing!”

“As soon as we’re done chatting,” lied Ginny.

“Are your wards up?” Molly asked, a thread of anxiety winding through her words. “I know I am supposed to be upset you used an illegal ward, but I do wish you’d been allowed to keep it...”

“My wards are safe,” said Ginny. “I wish they’d let me keep it, too.” There were few things creepier than being stalked by a yonobo, but that was the price she paid for doing the work she did.

“Ah, well, we’ll see you soon, dear,” said Molly.

After a quick I love you, Molly’s head disappeared from Ginny’s fireplace. The green flames melted back into orange and Ginny leapt up and fairly sprinted to her bad. With a flick of her wand, she set her wooden screen around her bed — the first time she’d done it since she moved in, as she lived alone and other than that yonobo, rarely had visitors.

She flung herself on her bed. The scent of honeysuckle sprang up around her and she reached just under the covers for the little brown package held together with twine.

Ginny unwrapped it, lips lifting in a smile. She hadn’t been able to resist buying the little snitch. The fact it was a snitch combined with the fact Ginny was feeling a bit bored with just her own fingers and the moment she’d seen them buzzing around the toy store, she’d veered off her path and bought one. Now the little box was in her hand, she didn’t know quite what to do with it.

Well. She knew the basics of what she wanted to do with it.

The snitch gleamed on a bed of velvet, and a very small scroll rose up into the air and unfurled itself. Ginny took it, squinting, and reading the instructions. After a moment, she put it down and looked at the snitch, feeling slightly bewildered.

It needed to watch her first?

Ginny thought about it for a minute, and placed another, stronger ward around her bed. The snitch still lay quiescent on the velvet. Its tiny wings spread like gossamer over it. As the scroll told her to do, Ginny touched it with the tip of her finger. The wings wisped up off the velvet, fluttered a few times, then leapt up into the air.

“It has a flesh memory,” Ginny murmured.

With quick, efficient movements, she undressed. Her robes joined the other items of dress on her floor, and her knickers fluttered down onto them. The snitch buzzed around her head, her fingers, and her knees as she did. The noise it made sounded playful, and that made her feel a little less self-conscious. She hadn’t figured on how odd it would feel to use something other than her own fingers, and she took another few breaths before she spread her legs and let her hand drift between them.

Just ignore the fact it’s watching you.

She tickled the sensitive area just around her clit. Heat gathered where her fingers touched, and her breath did a little hiccup. The snitch flew back and forth in front of her, much more slowly than any regular snitch. It distracted her enough that five minutes later, she was still mostly dry and it just wasn’t working the way it normally did.

Ginny bit her lip, thinking she knew exactly why it wasn’t working. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?” Ginny asked. Then she shook herself, laughing a little. It was a sex toy, not a legilimens. It was attuned to her touch, not to her thoughts. She could think about whatever she wanted to...

With the scent of honeysuckle all around her, Ginny drifted into a familiar fantasy. It was one she’d enjoyed since last Christmas, when he’d finally been healthy enough to come to the Burrow to celebrate, and Ginny’d caught his glance. There were many reasons why his eyes had lingered on her, none of them romantic, but Ginny’d felt a pulse of awareness that weakened her knees.

Her fantasy always began there with that moment.

Ginny touched herself again. Her skin was sensitive and heated to the touch, and when she tickled her clit again, this time the pleasure was... more.

Harry’s eyes were on her. In the background, her family made various excuses to leave the room, leave the Burrow, and go to London. Ginny promised to take care of Harry... that whole time his eyes were on her. Her skin tingled as though he were touching her, brushing his hands up and down her arms...

“Why don’t we listen to something?” he asked. They went to the sitting room, where he set a fire blazing with his wand and she put a record on.

Ginny traced her folds, spreading moisture around. When she breathed in, her own scent mingled with the honeysuckle. Her knees drew up, and Ginny eased a finger inside. In her fantasy, Harry was playing with her hair.

“It’s so long,” he said. Ginny sat on the floor, almost close enough to lean against his legs. Heat was between them, hotter than the fire in the grate. And it was Harry who mentioned it. His fingers brushed against her neck. “You feel hot.”

“I am hot,” she said. She turned her head to look at him and their eyes tangled again. Harry moved and settled next to her.

“Will you let me do something about it?” Harry asked.

“Open a window?” Ginny asked, licking her lips. Harry’s gaze dropped.

Ginny stretched out and rubbed her clit with her finger. Pulses of desire spread from where she touched outward through her entire body. The ripples made her nipples harden further and goosebumps raise on her arms. Her fantasies of Harry throughout the years had evolved from the slightly more innocent fantasies of a fourteen year old, to fantasies that began with long speeches as to how and why he no longer saw her as a little girl but as a woman and then undressed her and made love to her to prove it.

Now, she mostly skipped the long speeches.

“No,” said Harry. “I don’t want to open a window. We both know it’s not that kind of heat.”

“I know,” said Ginny.

That acknowledged, Harry tilted her chin up and kissed her. Gently, at first, then with greater and greater passion. Her lips opened beneath his, and his tongue slipped into her mouth.

Ginny moaned and tilted her hips upward. The small sounds of what her fingers were doing reached her ears and she drew in a great breath, held it, and pushed it out again. There was a faint buzzing in her ears — it took her a moment to remember the snitch, which was doing slow loops around her head.

Long, intense kisses later, Harry was tugging at her robes. His lips lifted off of hers, and when she made a small noise of disappointment, he tilted her head and kissed her neck.

His hand caught hers and pressed it against him. He was hard and hot and then they were naked together on the floor next to the Christmas tree.

“I need you,” he gasped.

Ginny jolted when something small and warm pressed against her nipple. Her eyes flew open and she looked down to find the snitch fluttering on it, sending little pulses of pleasure straight to her clit. With wide eyes, Ginny watched it for a second, then tilted her head back and lost herself in the sensation.

The flutter of little wings raised goosebumps on her belly as it drifted lower and lower.

“Oh, fuck!” Ginny burst out when the snitch buzzed through the hair between her thighs, then moved without hesitation to vibrate right up against her clit. “Fuck!” It was unlike anything she’d felt before, warm and vibrating against her clit while she had her fingers pumping...

Sweat beaded on her brow and the pleasure was so intense she nearly forgot—

“Can I make love to you?” Harry asked. His hands were running all over her body and Ginny was writhing with need.

“I think I’m the one who is supposed to be taking care of you,” she said, breathless.

“You will be,” he said. He rolled her over and settled between her spread legs. His penis fitted against her, hot, heavy, and hard and Ginny couldn’t helping running her hands over it. “Consider it my Christmas present.”

“It’s my Christmas present,” she told him.

Then, eyes never leaving hers, he slid his penis inside her body. “I want you,” he groaned. “I want you... I need you...”

Ginny came, hard, with the snitch pressing against her, just as her fantasy of Harry whispering he loved her while his penis filled her more than her fingers could. Her body jerked with the force of it and she cried out, clamping her thighs together. “Fuck,” she swore. “Holy fuck.”

When her body finally calmed down, Ginny looked down her sweaty body to where the snitch hovered just above the triangle of hair between her thighs. Her thighs had fallen apart again and the snitch bobbed in the air between them. Feeling almost baffled by how good that had felt, Ginny stared at it for long moments. Desire once more began to coil in her belly when she remembered that, in her fantasy, they had just gotten started. She could adjust her fantasy, even, have it take place on her birthday... at Hogwarts... at Grimmauld Place... there was no limit to what she and that beautiful little snitch could do.

“Let’s go again,” she told it.

--------------

So obviously, I am procrastinating writing the tough stuff. It was really a great deal of fun to write a little Peverell something from Ginny’s POV.

[maelaola]

Away and Under the Weather: Part 3

This is it. My final and, in my opinion, WORST illness-related experience abroad. It actually involves a few different illnesses and was spread out over at least a month. It was painful, exhausting, and just bizarre. Enjoy! #1 It started with the flu... It started with the flu. Nothing special, just the flu. When you live in another country AND work with children, you're going to get sick now and then. It was around this time of year (April) in 2007. I don't even remember how bad a flu it was. I probably had a fever, some body aches and a runny nose. That's usually what I get. I taught lessons through it (as usual) and it was over. I didn't need to go to the doctor until later. The flu ended but the crap in my lungs never really went away. After a week or two of wheezing and coughing, I went to get checked out. At the hospital, I was shown around by my own English-speaking nurse to see two specialists and got an x-ray of my lungs. It cost less than US$50. (I miss Korea.) I had acute bronchitis. The flu had slightly inflamed my bronchial tubes and there was a little infection. They gave me antibiotics, pain pills, something for the mucus, and anti-inflammatory medicine. Getting treated in Korea by western medicine is different than at home. Korean hospitals also treated people using eastern medicine and I took advantage of that more after this experience. Eastern medicine is about treating the delicate balance that exists in your body and allowing your body to function at its peak potential. Western medicine works more like a band aid. You're hurt here; fix here. Western medicine in Korea takes this metaphor even further. Sick? In pain? Appendages double in size? Okay! What can we do to patch you up and get you back to work? On top of that, we really do blindly trust doctors a lot. Which is fine for the complicated stuff. But in Korea, you barely even know what medicine you're taking. They give me the list but there's a lot on there and it's hard to tell the pills apart. They prepare all the pills for you and separate them by dose in these long strips of vacuum sealed plastic baggies. Swallow the cocktail and get back to work. No need to wait for the effects to kick in. I can tell you that I took my first baggie on a Wednesday night or Thursday morning. I remember that because by Friday I was calling the nurse and taking the only sick leave I ever took in 3 years in Korea. I felt a little off on Thursday. Not sick, just off. So it took me (and my head teacher/neighbor who was walking home with me) completely by surprise when I randomly puked on the street Thursday night. I barely made it to the storm drain let alone even thinking about trying to find a toilet. Living abroad, I've had my share of food poisonings so the idea that my body was rejecting something was not foreign to me. But there was no food. It was like a hangover without the bliss of being an idiot the night before. Since it wasn't food, I assumed pills and called the nurse. I stopped taking all of them since I didn't know which was which in my poison cocktail. I didn't feel any better the next day as I started to have stomach problems come out the other end. Great. And remember how I couldn't have sick days? That was especially true my first year when our numbers were already small and there were teachers fleeing the country in the middle of the night every other week. Fortunately, though, through some luck--and a lot of pity from my head teacher and principal who watched me try to teach my 4pm-7pm elementary class from a chair when I wasn't running to the bathroom--my head teacher had her second three-hour slot free and taught my 7pm-10pm middle school class. So I went home and proceeded to have my worst weekend ever. I was supposed to be at a wedding. Instead, every three hours (like clockwork!) I crawled the three feet from my bed to the bathroom and then tried crawl back, dragging what was left of my tattered stomach on the floor. Eventually that was too much and I brought a pillow and blanket into the bathroom to sleep on the floor in between sessions. I didn't leave the house until Sunday afternoon. I limped across the street to get some saltines and electrolytes with some hope that I would be better before Monday. And, surprisingly, I was. My stomach was convinced everything was out that it didn't like and it stopped trying to kill me. On Monday, I was exhausted, soar, and really cranky but I was mobile enough to go down the hill to my work. I settled in my chair to be a white-faced, native speaker in front of 15 Korean kids for 6 hours. The kids were extra nice and the next few days went fine. Although, it still amazes me that the kids never viewed this behavior as strange. I could not stand most of the time and could barely speak but I was still there. Even now in Hong Kong, I often teach while wearing a doctor's mask when I have a cough or runny nose, and I have some kids come to EVERY class in a mask. Sick? Wrap it, cover it up, take a pill. But do it at work. In this case though, the pills were the problem. I talked to my mom on Skype later and she told me that it was probably the anti-inflammatory medicine. She used to work for a doctor and patients often called and complained of stomach problems when the doctor prescribed anti-inflammatory medicine. So that was it. The weekend was more than enough to learn my lesson. The body is connected, beware of pills, listen to your mother, work somewhere with sick days, bla, bla, bla... Teacher, finishee?? Anio. I got better and started to regale my friends with gross stories of the worst weekend ever. Around midweek, I decided that I was better enough to not cancel my rafting trip for the coming weekend. It was rafting in Korea, after all, which is only slightly more intense than floating down a lazy-river. It was mostly an excuse to drink somewhere else and also to watch a traditional Korean mask performance. Rafting was scheduled for Sunday so we watched the mask dance on Saturday. It was in a very cool theatre-in-the-round, and--despite not understanding a word they were saying--it was really funny! There was an ajumma character which is always a riot and at one point a guy pretended to cut off the fake bull's penis. It was an outdoor theater, and it was really hot, so most people sat in the shaded section. About 30 of us came on the trip and showed up late so a few of us sat in the sun so we could watch from the front row. It was really bright when I first stared down at my feet so I just thought I was seeing things. They felt a little strange and warm, but so did the rest of me. And I was wearing larger flip-flops so I wasn't uncomfortable. I felt a little stupid but I turned to my friend and said it anyway, "Do my feet look bigger to you?" I'm not sure if she could see or if she was just a little worried about the question I just asked but we needed a closer look. We walked around the edge of the seating and went outside to where it was shaded and we could see better. And there they were: cankles. I grew cankles in an afternoon! There was a weird fluster next as three of my friends and I tried to figure out what to do for a case of instant-fat-feet. I lay down on the ground and elevated them, someone put a cold water bottle on them, but mostly we just poked them a lot as if we were suddenly going to able to diagnose the problem. I freaked out for a while as they seemed to get bigger in the heat. Fortunately, they grew to certain size and stopped. They didn't hurt and I could walk. I didn't go to a doctor because I was where I usually was when stuff like this happens: in a village in a foreign country. The play ended and after some shopping we all got on the buses to go back to the place we were staying. A few more people got to see my exciting new development. Most of the theories tossed around that day had to do with the bus going up and down the hills and something with altitude. I kept them elevated and took some allergy pills or something. I even went rafting the next day. (Seriously, easy rafting.) I just kept showing people my fat feet hoping someone could tell me what was happening to me. Monday I went to work, fat feet and all. I got a kick out of freaking out the kids with my cankles. (It actually freaked out the other teachers and staff more.) They were still there a week later when my parents arrived in Korea. I'm sure it was a great sight for my mother, who hadn't seen me in nine months. Because that's what you want to see when your oldest child is all alone for the first time and on the other side of the world. That she's becoming deformed. My dad made me sleep in his special airplane socks that are supposed to give you even circulation and they started to really go down. Mom cleaned my apartment which was not in an acceptable state (is it ever?). I took my first real vacation since I arrived in Korea and relaxed in Jeju-do. It took some time but they went back to normal and I was all better. Finally, we sat down together with the Internet and tried to figure out why my feet blew up. (Mom is an experienced hiker and didn't buy the 'altitude' theory.) And there, at the bottom of the list, on some medical website under possible causes for swollen feet it said, "...may be caused by anti-inflammatory medicine." So that was it. I got the flu which gave me bronchitis that led to the worst weekend of my life followed by one of the weirdest. The lesson for all this is very simple and not at all original: Stuff happens. I did what I was supposed to. I was sick so I went to the doctor. Usually that's the end. Take the pills, drink some liquids, all better. Only this time the pills poisoned me, my stomach tried to kill me, and my feet doubled in size. The good experience that came out of this was that the next time I was sick, I was really willing to try acupuncture and Korean traditional medicine. Also, I try not to suck down pills like candy. My feet are big enough already. Unfortunately, I know this is not the end. Despite Hong Kong being more western than Korea and having more resources than Buenos Aires, I know it will happen again. You get sick, you fall down; drink your fluids, pick yourself up. It's just different when you don't speak the language.

**********

Again, this is old content I wrote about nearly 10 years ago for another blog (http://laurabusan.blogspot.com/). It’s time I start writing again and bringing everything together.

[widgenstain]

Haven’t done that in a while, have I?

It by Stephen King

Rating: 1/10

Review:

Urgh, this dumpster fire… This dumb book blocked up my nightly readings for far too long, I was so ready to abandon it at points but eventually hate read powered through because some masochistic parts of me still wanted to know how it ended. This goes right on top of the list of garbage I read/watched/did for James.

It also is a prime example for why I usually steer away from long novels or fics. It’s not that I can’t read them, I read a ton for work and yes, they’re huge books, but it takes some tremendous skill to fill 1000 pages of a novel and keep it interesting and/or non-repetitive throughout. It’s what amazed me so about Gaiman’s American Gods, my copy has 640 pages and not one, NOT ONE of them is too much.

My copy of IT has 1376 pages and honest to god, you could have easily scratched 800 of them and it still would have been the same goddamn story. 300 pages alone are basically “and then he told his friends what the reader just read”. SO UNNECESSARY!! 

Like, if it contributed anything to the world or character building, ok, I could have dealt with that, BUT IT DIDN’T! The characters and their arcs are established pretty early on, partially through proper character building, partially through the time-jumps, but quite often through blatant tell-not-show.

King spells everything out SO many times, through so many weird analogies or metaphors, I mean, WOW! Eddie the momma’s boy, Stan the Jewish one who’s a bit obscure due to dying early on, Ben the sensible fat one who becomes a main character but sort of doesn’t, Richie the “funny” one (I swear if I had a nickel for every time King writes “they laughed” when absolutely nothing funny happened, I’d be very very rich), Bill the shameless heroic author insert who couldn’t be more of a textbook definition of Marty Stu if he tried, and Boobs, who will get her own paragraph in this rant. Mike is the one who actually gets off the best, I did like his first-person interludes, how they build his investigative and questioning nature and what they did to the overall story.

Which brings me to the structure: I don’t mind time-jumps nor changing perspectives, I actually love them if done well, and they’re not TERRIBLE here (they do make sense for the message), but King way too often feels the need to interrupt a scene at a suspenseful point only to retell most of it when he gets back to the scene. Most of the side characters suffer from that, foremost Henry Bowers and Tom. It gives the story this episodical feel “He ran. He made it out. This time. IT would get him soon.” DUN DUN DUUUUUN and when we cut back he’s running again!

This works once, twice or even thrice but gets SO TIRING if done every.other.chapter! This is a problem I have with many long fanfictions, where it actually does make sense, since the author publishes the chapters separately and tries to keep the reader engaged, yet I STILL don’t like it. And in a published book?! @clickthefrog mentioned that there’s a good chance that King wrote this super high on a plethora of drugs and OOHHHH YEAH, I can totally see that happening, but I wonder if his editor was sitting next to him and doing lines from the same damned pile of coke.

Someone really needed to go over this and cut it down to its essentials. Which aren’t bad, I did like the monster, I did like IT, the whole idea of Derry just being infested by it was great, some of the horror elements are genuinely disturbing and I GET the fascination with Pennywise and the other manifestations. Not all of IT makes sense imho but not everything in horror has to and those scenes were perfectly fine. But they make up like 10% of the book!! 

The rest is Beverly’s tits. 

Jesus HOLY-OBJECTIFICATION-BATMAN-MOTHERFUCKER! I am NOT exaggerating when I say that every time the focus shifts to her, there’s a remark on how hot she is. Which I MAYBE would be ok with when she is an adult, but it happens to the 11-year-old girl as well! If I had a nickel for every time her “small breasts” or naked skin or seductive red hair is mentioned and how the boys want to touch her, I’d be even richer. I mean, there is adoration and growing sexual obsession through the eyes of PRE-TEEN boys, and there is creepy as fuck objectification through the eyes of the author.

And yeah, I bet you’ve all heard of that scene… Look, I don’t mind fucked-up things in fiction, I’ve read things way worse than what happens here but context and build-up freaking matter. I cannot shake the feeling that King delights in and gets-off on putting Beverly though sexualised,violent shit, what happens with her father, her husband, Jesus Christ, that terrible sex scene with Bill (he makes her cum twice with the thrusts of his mighty penis… two good things came out of this: James and Jessica getting it on for my viewing pleasure and the knowledge that I, a fucking foreigner with limited English skills, can write better sex scenes than a best-selling American author. GO ME!!) and it’s all fine, it’s a horror story, we all love putting our favourite characters through terrible and humiliating things sometimes, I get it, we cool.

But after these scenes that clearly establish that King has a thing for Beverly, that 11-year old girl makes five of her male friends fuck her because… she loves them and that will build a connection? Uhmmm? What the fuck?! I get that she’s fucked-up because of her father, but the way it’s written, the obsession with the non-working baby dicks and how she feels pleasure and cums when Ben shoves in his grown-man thing… Whow! Gross! Ew ew ew, this is wrong and it would be wrong if it was written well too.

Anyway, gross child sex scenes aside, if you couldn’t tell yet: I’m pissed I paid for this book (they only had the German version in the Open Book Case) and I’m pissed that even more people will pay for it.

A friend of mine has that theory that as soon as a book makes it to the piles at the front of an airport book shop, the author is set for life. People see it when they’re bored, they recognise the title, so they buy it and read bits of it. These are people who usually do not read much, so they have no comparisons, they often don’t even finish the book but they remember that they’ve had it in hand so they talk about it. These books sell, they make a movie, even more people know of the title and buy it because they recognise it but who knows how many of them actually read it; it absolutely doesn’t matter how bad the book is, it keeps on selling. That’s my theory with IT because there is no fucking other explanation why this got so successful.

The movies definitely helped, I haven’t watched either movie yet (parts of the old one on TV, but never the full movie), I most likely will before IT2 comes out, they’re supposedly not as unintentionally creepy or borderline paedo pornographic as the book, so I’ll give them a try. Not gonna pay for them though, nope, not a chance. :P

[frejahertziswritingthistime]

The neighbor, chapter 5

A/N: I’m blown away with how well this story has been received! I love this story so much, and I’m enjoying writing it – I hope it shows! I’m sorry, this chapter is a little short, but I’m building it up, y’all!

As always, remember, I always say yes to request!

Please, please, give some feedback – it is my air, and all feedback is so vital as a writer. Let me know if you love it through an ask, reblog, anything!

 MASTERLIST

The neighbor Masterlist

Pairings: Mechanic!AU(ish)!Dean x reader

Warnings: Language, ALL THE SEXUAL TENSION

Magnetic

I woke up with a pounding headache and squinted against the gray morning light. I sat up, a fluffy blanket sliding off me, and looked around with bleary eyes. I was at Dean’s place (David’s? I was still confused), sitting on the couch, where I must have fallen asleep. I eyed the empty bottle of whiskey on the small side-table with malice. Fucking whiskey hangovers were the worst.

I blinked against the harsh light streaming in from the window and tried to gather myself. The sound of the shower running hit me, and I quickly evaluated my options; 1: stay and talk to Dean/David or 2: run out of his apartment and forget this ever happened. I was mulling it over, as the shower turned off and a few seconds later, the door opened. My choice had been made for me.

He stepped out, body glistening with water, a few droplets running down his toned chest. I felt myself grow hotter at the sight in front of me; he was damn well built. He was toned, and there was a promise of abs on his stomach – a little dark-blond trail led my eyes down to the bulge protruding under the white towel, slightly twitching. I bit the inside of my cheek, as he ran a hand through his hair, flicking it just enough to make water spray out from him, and the movement made his biceps tighten under his skin. I couldn’t handle this. He was damn gorgeous, and I didn’t know what to do with my body. He looked at me with a hesitant smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were up.” I cleared my throat and forced my eyes to his face. I shrugged. “I’ll get dressed.” He left for the bedroom. “Don’t dress for me…” I mumbled under my breath. I needed to control myself – I was still angry, and I was not about to be seduced by Dean/David’s penis. Not in this lifetime.

“Want to get breakfast?” He yelled from behind the closed door. “No.” I said, even though my stomach was growling wildly at the promise. I refused to pretend like everything was okay. He peaked his head out from the bedroom with a frown. “Fuck. I guess we’re not really done with the talking, huh?” I raised my eyebrow in response. “What do you think, Dean slash David?” he sighed and opened the door fully, stepping out fully dressed. Fucking hell, why could he make a Henley shirt look so good?!

“Listen, I get it, you’re still mad. I’m not…” He sighed and sat down in the chair across form the couch. “I’m not going to pretend like everything is fine, but I don’t know what to do.” He ran a hand through his hair, and I sucked in a breath; fucking hell, he was stupidly handsome. I sighed and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees – my shirt fell forwards a little bit, and I noticed that his eyes flickered from my face to my cleavage. I smirked – thank god, I wasn’t the only one in a tight spot. “I don’t know either. You’re… You’ve been playing games with me since I was 17. I don’t care, what your reasons were” I said, as he opened his mouth to argue with me, “because the fact of the matter is, that you did leave me alone. You did decide to lie to me, and act like a child, when you first met me. You’ve been lying to me since day fucking one, and you’re just expecting me to be okay with it?” He shook his head with a sigh. “I’m not expecting anything. I don’t… Fuck, I know I’ve screwed up, okay?” I raised my eyebrow.

“I just… Uhm… Fuck, I freaked out, alright? I already told you this, but I just… You didn’t look like, well, you, when I met you. I was...” His eyes flicked up to my face again. “Fuck, never mind. Just know, I’m sorry.” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, trying desperately to keep my mind from straying to the dirty. “I get it. I have to admit, I knew something was off.” He cocked and eyebrow at me and his tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip – my breath hitched at the sight. Fuck. “Really?” he asked, a slight undertone of amusement in his voice. I nodded. “I made a list. I don’t know, I started having dreams about you, so...” He chuckled under his breath. His voice was somehow deeper and huskier now, and his eyes darted over my face, down to my top. “I hope you had a good dream, sweetheart.” I rolled my eyes and ignored my heart picking up.

“Anyway… Listen, I’m still pissed at you, but I’ll try to turn it around, alright?” He half-smiled and nodded. “Alright.” I smiled back. “Alright.”

 Two weeks later

Fucking two weeks. Two weeks of constantly running into Dean – like we were somehow magnetically attracted to each other, and I just couldn’t avoid the damn man. He was everywhere. I was going down the stairs? Boom, he was there. I was outside, enjoying a cup of coffee? Boom, he was there. He was all around me, constantly making me feel flustered and hot. It was not ideal.

My car was still at the shop, and at this point, I doubted I’d get it back – the downside of this was, that I had to ride with Dean every single day, and sit right next to him, the tension between us palpable. I must’ve destroyed a least ten pairs of panties at this point, and my vibrator had been going hard the last two weeks. It was like his cologne hung in my clothes and my hair, which meant that I could never fully escape him, try as I might.

The worst part? He knew. He knew what he was doing to me. There was no other explanation for it – why would he run around shirtless, if he didn’t do it to fuck me over? He was even doing that stupid, sly smirk, whenever I was close to him, and it made me seriously annoyed. I was still angry for the lying, for the pretending, but as for now, I would settle for being pissed about his stupid, perfect body and that stupid, sly smirk on his lips. He showed up at the worst times; right after I had been in the shower, as I was changing clothes, right as I was about to bring my vibrator out – it was like he had a damn radar for whenever I was naked or horny.

As I walked down the stairs, somewhat late for work (although Charlie didn’t seem to mind – she had, for some reason, gotten into her head, that me and Dean were banging on every surface in the house, and gave me plenty of line when I got in late), and I was rushing down the stairs, my coffee in my hand and head buried in the book, I was trying to translate, and I didn’t see the last step on the stairs; I missed it, and would have tumbled head first to the ground, coffee flying everywhere, expect for the pair of strong arms grabbing my waist, that held me in place. My coffee was flying, but I didn’t even care about it; Dean’s face was way too close to mine, his hands way too hot on my waist, and his stupid, damn, smirk was settled on his stupid, pretty lips. I grunted and tried to steady myself – Dean helped me to a standing position, and grinned at me, as I tried to wipe my white shirt down. It was definitely ruined by the stupid coffee. Great way to start my day.

“Thanks for saving me.” I mumbled, turning on my heel to go back up to change my shirt, but a hand grabbed my wrist. I turned back to Dean, who was – once again – close to me, his cologne wafting over me like a damn siren’s call. “No problem.” He said in a low voice, and he bit his goddamn lip, making my breath hitch and my heart speed up. He cocked an eyebrow at me. That motherfucker, he knew what he was doing. “Are you okay, Y/N? You seem a little flustered.” He said with a sinful smile. “I’m fine.” My voice was whiny, almost needy. Damn hormones. He hummed a little and stepped up to stand on the same step as me. The hallway was small already, and he was so big and so close, I felt like a tiny person, getting swallowed in this huge man. I didn’t even mind a little bit.

“Are you sure? You seem a little hot…” He smiled and laid a hand softly on my forehead, as if measuring my temperature. I definitely lost my ability to breathe right. “Maybe I am running a little hot.” I said, twisting my body a little to let my chest touch his. Two can play this game, Dean. He smirked and put a hand on the wall behind me, leaning in a little bit, effectively trapping me against the wall and his body. “Maybe I can help you bring that down…” He whispered, leaning closer to me. “Oh, really? How would you do that?” I whispered back. He cocked an eyebrow. “Like this, sweetheart.” He leaned in, and our lips were so close, but a loud honking from the parking lot interrupted us. I groaned, and Dean rolled his eyes, stepping down a little. I didn’t miss the bulge in his jeans. I giggled.

“Handle your situation, before you go out there, sweetheart.” I said, before running up the stairs, giggling at his groans. Both of us could play this game, and I was not about to let him win, no matter what. I heard the door slam downstairs, and I leaned against my own door, trying to catch my breath. Charlie would have to wait a few minutes longer for me to show up, judging by the state of my underwear.

 He was trouble, and I was in way too deep.    

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[j0ebay]

Spiraling Ch 2

Peter Parker x Stark!OC, platonic!Loki x Stark!OC

Warning(s): IW SPOILERS, mentions of blood, fighting, lowkey angst, fluff

Word Count: 2321

A/N: So, this basically takes place after infinity war assuming all the dead people come back. Maggie is highkey based off of Maggie Greene/Rhee from Walking Dead because I love her so so so much. I’m really stoked this chapter is finally out so enjoy and feedback is deeply appreciated!! 💙💙

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chapter 1   chapter 3

“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams” -Dr Seuss

To say Geneva lived by the phrase “Just because something isn’t broken, doesn’t mean it can’t be fixed” would be an understatement. She was constantly finding ways to decrease reaction time and upgrade suit abilities. Geneva mainly took pride in Karen, given that it was the first “big project” Tony let her work on and everyone knows how well that worked out.

    So, there was Geneva sitting in a desk chair in the lab coding updates for Karen. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail as she was squinting through her tortoise shell glasses that perfectly framed her face as she worked. The works of AC/DC could be heard throughout the whole building and everyone knew this was how she concentrated and drowned out the malicious head voices. It also drowned out the sound of Tony walking into the lab.

    “Hey Gee” he says, getting no answer from the teenage girl, deep in concentration. He tries again “Geneva” this time a little louder. Still nothing. Frustrated, he yells “GENEVA MARIE STARK” which caused her to jump and turn around. The music paused on it’s own with the stereo remote across the room. Tony knits his eyebrows together in confusion and she just points to her head, saying “I’m kinda trying to get everything back and figure everything out”. He nods and says “You mind picking up some files and groceries for me?”

    She bites the inside of her cheek in thought. She really should finish this up. She’s almost done making reaction times quicker. Geneva takes her glasses off and puts her face in her hands “Yeah I can”. She taps a few keys on the computer, saving her work, stands up and walks past Tony who says “Address and list are already on your phone, thanks”

    Peter stands at his locker shuffling through his belongings when he hears his name being called in the distance. He closes his locker door to reveal the one and only Ned Leeds. “Hey, Peter! We’re still on for tonight right?” Peter nods and then his eyes widen in realization “If it’s cool, I invited Gee to help out. She’s really good at chemistry and knows more than the both of us.” Ned laughs and shakes his head “You still believe she’s real? Peter she doesn’t exist” “What?” Flash steps into the conversation as he walks by “We’re talking about Peter’s imaginary girlfriend again?” Peter lets out a heavy sigh and directs his gaze to the tile floor, shaking his head “Cause we all know you’re not gonna get one Penis Parker” He continues walking away along with messing up Peter’s hair. He takes out his phone and is about to text Gee when the hairs on his arm stick up. His eyes widen as he bolts outside to see what’s wrong. He sprints around the school after texting May to see what’s wrong. Nothing was around the school and May texted back saying she was fine. “What is going on?” he continuously asked himself until he realized the one thing left on his radar. Geneva.

    The one thing Tony didn’t know about sending Gee on errands is that they almost always take her through the bad part of town. That’s where she found herself now. She put in earbuds and pretended to listen to music so she could avoid all the people catcalling her. “The convenience store is on the next block. The convenience store is on the next block” is what she always tells herself. It seemed as if the street keep getting longer and longer the faster she walked. “Hey, pretty girl” she heard from her right side. She kept walking, slightly picking up the pace. She felt someone behind her as her pace quickened again, speeding up to just a little bit under a jog. “Cutie can’t even take a fucking compliment, she’s too shy” She hears another man say until she gets cut off by third man. “Where do you think you’re going, Princess?” A lump the size of a golf ball forms in her throat as she mumbles “the store”. A meaty hand lands on her face, squishing her cheeks together and forcing her to look up at him.

“Whaddya doin’ out here in the middle of the day all by yourself?” The grip on her face tightens as another one grabs her waist. Gee gulps and says “I don’t want any trouble”. The three men surrounding her all laugh wildly. “You don’t want any trouble? You aren’t from around here, little miss, I can tell you that right now. You look you come from money, got any for us?” The adrenaline begins to course through the teenager’s veins by just saying one word “No.” They all laugh again. “That wasn’t a question, little girl.” her backpack was ripped from her as she screams “NO” again before taking a punch to the stomach. Geneva falls to the ground as they kick her until she sees the lid of a garbage can. She concentrates less on the blows to her gut and more on bringing the lid over. There was a loud clank and the main guy fell to the ground along with the lid. One of the other guys hits the wall with the flick of her wrist and the third, and final guy charged at her getting a blow to her face in. Geneva was knocked back a little bit as the guy swings again, she dodges and elbows him in the head causing him to fall down.

    Out of nowhere Geneva hears a faint pssst and looks up to see a web at the top of the wall along with the one and only spider-man. “Gee you okay?” He asks climbing down to face her. She holds her eye in pain saying “Yeah yeah I’m good” while turning to continue walking. “Well, at least let me walk you home.” She stops and sighs. “I still have errands to run, spidey. Besides, shouldn’t you be in school right now?” He scratches the back of his neck and says “don’t worry about it. I can get May to say it was a family emergency or something” She turns back around, “Actually?”. He nods and catches up to her. “So, what errands you got in mind?”

    “Hey Maggie!” Geneva says as she walks into her favorite convenience store, still holding her eye with Peter (who insisted on making a pit stop to change out of the spidey suit because “You walking around with spiderman is just gonna put a bigger target on your back”). Maggie is the owner of the small store that Geneva visits constantly, causing a friendship to spark. “The usual, Gee?” She asks not looking up. Geneva lets out a little laugh “Yeah I gotta get some stuff for Tony too. Maybe some ice would be great.” She looks up with a confused look on her face until she sees Geneva holding her eye “OH MY GOODNESS WHAT DID YOU DO?”. It’s like a switch flipped in the woman as she instantly speed walks around getting paper towels and an ice pack, giving them to Gee.

    “Seriously, I’m fine it just stings a little.” Gee says while taking the ice “No concussion, no nothing” Maggie turns her attention to the boy with her “Who’s this?”. Geneva furrows her eyebrows in confusion before she remembers Peter. “Oh! Maggie this is Peter”. Her eyes widen “THIS IS THE PETER YOU WERE TELLING ME ALL ABOUT???” Geneva instantly remembers gushing about Peter to Maggie and looks down at the floor hiding her rosy cheeks. “Yeah um,” She gulps “I’ll just grab whatever Tony wants and you said you have the sour gummy worms and cream soda?” Maggie nods and says “They’re in the back. Lemme get ‘em for you”

    After shopping and a bit more walking, Geneva and Peter return to Stark Tower (after relocating...again). She steps out of the elevator seeing Tony on the couch watching TV, puts the bag of groceries on the table along with the files and says “Here’s your bitchass stuff” while storming off to the bathroom to get some peroxide on her cuts. Hissing in pain, she lifts up her shirt to reveal her abdomen, which already started the bruising process “Shit. No crop tops for a while, Stark”

    After cleaning herself up even more, dealing with worried Pepper, Tony and (especially) Loki, and begging Happy to drive her, Gee was finally ready to go to Peter’s for another study session. “Thank you Happy!” she says getting out of the car once they reach the Parker residence. She lets out a small giggle at his grumbled “yeah sure whatever” as he drives away.

As she walks up the steps to the apartment, she’s instantly greeted with a hug from May before she could even knock on their door. “He’s just in his room with Ned, sweetheart”. Gee nods and walks into Peter’s room. “Hey guys!” She says and instantly Peter stands up from where he’s sitting and wraps her in a hug. The two teenagers instantly become flustered at the feeling of holding and being held by each other and pull away with blush creeping on their faces. “Uh, Gee this is Ned.” She lets out the giggle Peter finds always infectious and asks “The one who doesn’t believe in me?” He nods and she sticks her hand out to Ned “Geneva Stark, nice to meetcha”. Ned’s eyes go wide as he stumbles over his own words “uh, y-you’re actually a-a real person. Oh my god I-I’m so sorry I didn’t think you were real. I-It’s just you see a lot of news that’s fake” She laughs again “It’s fine, really. I swear, half the population thinks I’m a myth.”

    In reality, the “study session” was about 20 minutes of actual studying and then Star Wars. Peter leans over to Geneva, who’s emersed in the movie and whispers “I’m sorry”. She turns her head and furrows her eyebrows. “What for?”. He looks down “I didn’t get there fast enough and you got hurt. It’s all my fault”. Geneva turns so she faces Peter “Hey, look at me,” she takes his face in her hands, forcing his gaze towards her “If anything, it was my fault for being a jackass towards them. Actually, let’s just blame Tony for this one cause he’s the one who sent me out in the first place. But, it was a learning experience more or less. I can move things with my mind easier than I could before. Besides, I wasn’t hurt terribly, just some bruised ribs and maybe a black eye at the most. Nothing terrible, nothing permanent, but thanks for being there, Pete.” She slips her hand in Peter’s giving it a tight squeeze and flashes him a warm smile. The small moment is ruined by Geneva’s phone ringing. She answers, talks for a bit then hangs up “It’s Pepper. She wants me home and I guess there’s a pissed off Happy outside” She stands up, Peter and Ned following. Peter lets out a chuckle “The real question is, when is Happy not pissed off?” Geneva burst out laughing making Peter’s eyes light up and a confused expression to cross Ned’s face. “I swear,” she says, “I’ve lived with them for three years and I’ve never ever seen that man crack a smile! Well, it was nice meeting you Ned” she waved at him and pulls Peter in for a hug “Bye, Pete” she says, pulls away and waves while walking out the door.

    “Dude,” Ned says once the door shuts “you totally have a crush on her.” Peter feels a knot in his stomach and lets out a nervous laugh “What? No what are you talking about?” He feels the heat rise in his cheeks. “Peter, c’mon you totally like her. You walked her home today despite her insisting she was fine and just now you were totally heart eyes over her.” Peter scoffs “I was not heart eyes over her” “Ooh! Are we talking about Peter’s crush on Geneva? Shoot did she leave already?” May butts into the conversation. “Yeah, May she did and I DON’T HAVE A CRUSH ON HER! I mean seriously, Mr.Stark would kill me if he found out I like her” May’s eyes widen as she screams “PRESENT TENSE! PRESENT TENSE!”, followed by Ned saying one last “You totally have a crush on her. My mom’s here I’ll see you later.” Peter and Ned do the handshake and after Ned leaves, Peter glares at May. The rosy color lingers on his cheeks as May grabs him by the shoulders and states “It’s perfectly fine if you do like her. She’s a very lovely person and you shouldn’t be afraid of that Tony Stark” He purses his lips and says “Thanks, May. I’m gonna go to bed.” while walking away hearing a “goodnight” behind him.

    Peter crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. He envisioned her hazel eyes and how they got really small when she smiled. He flashed back to every time he made her laugh and smiled at the sound running through his mind. He thought about her hair and how it perfectly framed her face, her style and how it screamed her personality and her glasses, which no matter how many times she made comments about ugly she looked in them, he would always be dying to tell her that she was wrong. He mentally cursed at himself for not getting to her sooner but boy, she could kick some ass. He processed his feelings of hurt and heartbreak whenever she was sad or got in a fight. Peter Parker had finally come to a conclusion about his feelings for Geneva Stark. “Mr.Stark is gonna kill me” he mumbled before drifting off to sleep with her on his mind.

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