#do i have two building projects at the same time? maybe

[smallnico]

can you tell esper is uhhhhh. ill?

got tagged by @beecreeper for the character insp meme! (check out his here!!) this was a lot of fun, there are a couple of honourable mentions i'll get into under the cut, along with some elaborations for the curious.

list of names, L > R 1: harrowhark nonagesimus -- the locked tomb saga 2: isaac -- castlevania (netflix series) 3: cole -- dragon age: inquisition 4: blackbeard -- our flag means death 5: (bingo free space) 6: seven of nine -- star trek: voyager 7: katya zamolodchikova -- real life / unnnhhhh 8: paul muad-dib atreides -- dune 9: maomao -- the apothecary diaries

1: harrowhark nonagesimus -- the locked tomb saga

if you've read the locked tomb, this one's pretty self-explanatory. but i took a lot of inspiration from harrow's grief-sodden religious zealotry for esper's pre-tadpole self, and i think about harrow the ninth every time i write from esper's perspective during the events of the game. it's the amnesiac goblin madness for me. esper would also absolutely put their bone marrow into a soup to kill someone if that was something they could do. they're extra like that

2: isaac -- castlevania (netflix series)

i just fucking love isaac, man. he's such a fascinating character, taken from a place of pain and degradation into the service of a mad god-figure hellbent on destroying humanity, then banished and forced to just. figure out for himself what he wants to do with his life. and it turns out that what he wants to do is relate to the hellbeasts he raises to use as soldiers, and let them try to eat strawberries and live in houses for a change, take a chance at living as something other than vessels of violence. i love him. that's really all esper wants, too -- to find a peaceful existence after a lifetime of pain and brutality and monsterhood.

3: cole -- dragon age: inquisition

cole is such a vibe. he lives in the attic staring unsettlingly at people and reading their minds and exhuming their pain so he can help them with it, including with his knives. he has that unearthly creepy vibe that esper projects, as well as their tendency to poke around in people's private emotions and their slight uncanny distance from human morality and ethics. making cole more human also ends up around the same for esper -- cole is never quite all the way there, but happy to be truly Among the people whose souls he reads and finally able to experience those things for himself.

4: blackbeard -- our flag means death

apart from the leather and queerness and propensity for violence, blackbeard was also a big influence for esper's journey from "yeah, this violence thing is fun for me, besides it's not like i can Leave this life, i'm stuck here so i might as well enjoy it" to "actually even though it's fun it's also exhausting and all i really want is peace. maybe even a monster like me can love and find a community that loves me."

6: seven of nine -- star trek: voyager

god, where to start? "i was a child who was raised to be perfect, my humanity and individuality were completely overridden and my very body was used as an object for unimaginable violence, and now even though i don't know how to be a Person anymore, i'm cut off from everything i've ever known and i don't know what to do." and now, like seven, esper is just trying their best to build a personality out of the leftover scraps they have with the help of their crew of misfits and weirdos. also, perpetrator trauma -- like seven, esper doesn't feel Guilty about their past actions, but it does haunt them, and they don't really know what to do with it. also, i didn't mean for the two images of esper and seven here to make them look exactly the same, but hey.

7: katya zamolodchikova -- real life / unnnhhhh

this one's more of a bit. i watch unnnhhhh with my wife a lot, and every now and again katya will just say something that makes us both go "that's esper-coded". she has that slightly imperfect balance of genuine darkness and unhinged silliness that esper also teeter-totters between, which results in a specific kind of charisma that you kind of have to see to understand.

8: paul muad-dib atreides -- dune

esper's pre-durge and pre-tadpole backstory draws a fair bit of inspiration from paul's narrative arc lmao. he starts out life as a male heir to a bloodline of female psychic specialists, trains with them, and ends up sacrificing his humanity to fulfil a violent divine path pre-ordained for him. real evil messiah hours. esper has way fewer qualms about killing from the start, and the match isn't perfect, but this is an inspiration, not a stencil.

9: maomao -- the apothecary diaries

another weird one, but probably the most purposeful inspiration on the board here. when i was first playing as esper and trying to sort out their personality, i was also watching apothecary diaries, and maomao's feline predilections and sense of mischief and flawless composure and cunning without ambition had me completely enraptured, so i thought, what the hell. she also shares some backstory elements with esper as the [spoilers] bastard daughter of a disgraced but extremely talented courtesan and a creepy war tactician. like esper, maomao just wants to keep her head down and make enough money to fund her special interests. they also both drink poison for fun (at least, esper does pre-tadpole). i think the main thing they diverge on is that esper thinks poison is for basic bitches.

honourable mentions

jimmy "pickles" hoffa -- jimmyhoffathecat

just look at him. that's an esper. photo credit here

tilly -- my parents' house

pretty self-explanatory for any cat owners out there. esper acts like a cat in general, but they specifically act like this cat. she's so influential and talented and perfect.

towa "murase" -- slow damage

this one is an honourable mention instead of being on the board because i didn't meet towa slowdamage until like 3 weeks ago (well after esper was already realized), but the two of them have so many specific things in common it's actually ridiculous. convergent evolution at its finest.

fenris -- dragon age 2

esper and fenris have very little in common story- or personality-wise, but i can't deny that he was a huge visual influence, especially for pre-tadpole esper. i mean, come on. look at him.

yelena belova -- black widow, hawkeye

i'm not much of an mcu person, but the concept of the black widows in general did influence a lot of esper's pre-durge backstory, and i like yelena. she's like a more charismatic and more down-for-murder natasha. she's not a specific inspiration for esper as a character, but they do have a rhyming vibe.

selcis aureus, umbras heltor -- exodusbound

hello, it's fantrolls! i disqualified selcis and umbras from the inspboard because they're literally other ocs i had a hand in creating, and a lot of the things they have in common with esper aren't public, but they both did (and exodusbound did in general) have a lot of influence on esper as a character. i can't help that i like themes of alienation and life persevering in spite of it all in my characters. art shown here by my wife barbelzoa!

espurr -- pokemon

literally a pokemon, not a character. special place in my heart though because i literally named esper after this thang when i first made them in the character creator. they just had the same dead eyed stare and psychic magic, so i went, yeah, that'll do.

thank you so much for reading this much if you did!!!!!

[atherix]

Slowly but surely..... in the meantime-

Look I have finally built a house! :D

[icewindandboringhorror]

me everytime I am preparing a meal with multiple elements I have to balance so they all finish cooking at the same time: Wow this is just like the 2009 hit Nintendo Wii game 'Food Network: Cook Or Be Cooked'

[fingertipsmp3]

Also forgot to mention a guy in my class today said that blogging is narcissistic. I just sat there like 🫠

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - surprise visit modern au!

an unfamiliar secretary won’t let you into the building to visit your husband, Miguel, at his office

Visiting your husband at work may as well be the best way for you to spend your day off. He’s been working hard, his passion truly bursting at the seams when he talks to you about the latest improvement project he’s been working on for the past three weeks. 

You’re walking down the sidewalk in an outfit you knew would make Miguel go crazy, holding a nice bouquet of flowers in your arm. You decided men don’t get flowers enough, so you’re here to fill in that gap. He really deserves more than flowers anyway. 

With the badge embedded into your watch, you scan your wrist against the access monitor on the wall. The doors automatically open, and you feel a nice gust of air conditioning run into you. 

The office is very modern, clean, and sleek. All around you are advanced units of technology; a result of your husband’s successes. It smells the same it always has; clean, crisp, and slightly minty. As you walk through the doors, you’re greeted with the exact same things you always are; same lounge chairs, same grand elevator... 

Though, you don’t recognize the secretary at the desk. 

She’s blonde, red lipstick smeared onto her tight lips in an unwelcoming frown. A matching pearl set adorned over her crisp, dark blue blazer. 

Usually, you’d say hi to the secretary you knew, Lyla. You assume she got fired, which was a real shame, you love her sass. She was always so kind to you, saying hi with a smile, or offering to help guide you through the office and such. 

But instead, you walk right past the desk, digging through your memories to find how you managed to find Miguel’s main office last time. 

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?“

Her voice is just as snarky as you had imagined. 

“Visiting Miguel?“ You pause, your patience already growing extremely thin for the new secretary. You’d probably chat about this to Miguel later, maybe bat an eyelash or two to convince him about hiring someone different. 

“Nuh uh! Miguel O’Hara is busy right now, not open for any visitors at the moment.“ She replies, fixating her eyes on the large monitor in front of her. 

You pause for a moment, critically thinking things through for a moment. 

“Oh! I get it. M’am, you haven’t met me before, have you?“ You ask, trying your best to not crinkle the flowers in your hands. She raises a single eyebrow, glaring as if you insulted her mother. (Which, you might as well should do.)

“I’m Miguel’s spouse. He lets me visit him whenever, I even have my badge right here-“

She holds up a single manicured finger. 

“Nice try, but my charts right here say that Miguel is busy at the moment. Try another time, maybe send him a fan letter or something.“

Your blood starts to boil as the new secretary has a satisfied smirk on her face. 

Instead of choosing violence and risking your hair getting ruined, you opt for the better option. Glaring at the desk manager directly in the eye, you pull out your cellphone from your pocket, manually pressing the contact button for Miguel. You wait for the phone to dial, pressing the cellular to your ear whilst examining your own nails. 

And finally, he answers. 

“Hm? You need something, honey?“

“Miguel.“

Miguel on the other line, freezes to a halt. Now, he knows he’s in trouble. Carefully, he clears his throat. 

“What is it, sweetie?“

You take a deep breath. “Your... secretary isn’t letting me into the office. Will you fix that, please?”

Miguel pinches between his eyebrows, groaning. 

“Of course, hun. I’ll be down in a sec.“

“Thank you, Miguel.“

The call ends, but the secretary still stares at you like you’ve thrown up all over her salad. She almost looks like she’s going to laugh, which makes you even madder. 

Within literally a few seconds, the elevator whirs to a halt, the top light switching on with a chime. As expected, your husband walks through the sliding doors, clad in a crisp white dress shirt and office pants. He’s so undeniably gorgeous, you almost consider forgiving the secretary. 

But, you don’t. 

“Ah, Miguel, this p-“

“Shut your mouth for moment, would you?“

The woman is taken aback, red bursting onto her cheeks as her fake smile melts into a frown. Her mouth is left agape, watching as Miguel saunters over to you with a smile. 

“What happened?“ Miguel asks, his Office Face™ dissolving into a genuine smile. He slots his hands to your waist, silently peering at the flowers in your arms. 

“Well, I was going to come surprise you... but then she said that you were busy.” You reply, pouting. 

“Aww, baby, it’s okay.“ He smooches the top of your head. “The flowers are pretty. I’ll handle this.“

Miguel then swerves around, this time with his Office Face™ on. He keeps his hand glued to your side, each step of his getting louder and louder as he makes his way towards the desk. 

“Tiffany.“

Tiffany, in question, shudders, keeping her eyes glued to the floor while a shit-eating smirk finds its’ way onto your face. No remorse whatsoever. 

“From now, until tonight, please let my partner into the building whenever they like.“

“Yes, sir. Why until tonight?“ 

“Because I’m firing you from any future stand-in’s, or any sort of work in here for the matter.“

Miguel: 1 Tiffany: 0

Tiffany looks like she has so much she wants to say, so much that she could scream at this very moment... but instead, she stays silent. You can see a vein practically ready to burst at her temple, her jaw grinding her teeth in her mouth. 

“I will dismiss you at the end of the day, Tiffany. I expect you to cause no more trouble until then.“

Tiffany is left utterly speechless, her jaw left slightly agape. Miguel ushers you by your back towards the elevator, poking and prodding his finger at the flowers in your grasp. 

Automatically, the elevator doors smoothly slide open, and you both step inside. You stare at the glass view outside, watching as the two of you get higher and higher above the city.

“I even had my badge, and she didn’t let me.“ You frown, indulgently leaning into Miguel’s chest. 

“I’m sorry, hun. Lyla’s out sick for a bit, so she was the only substitute I could find for today.“

Apologetically, he rubs your back, secretly praying that you’d forget about the whole ordeal so you’d pay attention to him instead. 

“S’okay. Thank god Lyla wasn’t fired.“ You mumble, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“She’s annoying, but she does her job well.“ Miguel remarks, and you gasp, personally offended on behalf of your beloved Lyla. 

“No she’s not! She’s super nice, actually.“

“Whatever.” Miguel scoffs. “Kiss me.”

“No. You called Lyla annoying.” 

these oneshots have really skyrocketed my account! thank you guys so much for the positive feedback, i love loveee reading all the comments i get! please stay tuned for more!

- cosmosis <333

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[pinkanonwrites]

Repaying The Favor

G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 4600+ words NSFW, Valveplug, Miscommunication, First Time, Oral Sex, AFAB Reader - They/Them Pronouns for reader

The sequel to "Oh! That's What That Does?!" is finally here! Same reader, same Rumble, same trying to figure each other out, only this time they get to slam down crazy-style about it. When will Frenzy get his turn in the spotlight? Eventually, I think! Maybe once I've finished a few other pet projects.

NSFW WRITING BELOW THE CUT!

It had been exactly fifteen days since you had last heard from Rumble. 

Not that you’d been counting.

Sure, the cassettes probably had more important things to do than lounge around your workshop waiting for your attention, but that's exactly why it was so odd. They always had better things to do, things that they were pointedly avoiding doing by barging in on your work and taking up what little free space the shop had remaining. But since your little tryst with Rumble, you hadn't seen armor nor optic of any of the usual cassette bot suspects.

Maybe you'd broken some sort of ancient, space robot taboo that you'd never heard of. Or maybe Rumble was just embarrassed that he jizzed all over your jumpsuit. Either way, it wasn't like you had any way of getting ahold of them besides them dropping in, so there wasn't much to be done about the situation but wait.

You were leaving the corner store when you heard it, the cacophonous boom of a jet flying far too close to the tips of the skyscrapers overhead. The sound sent you reeling, bags crumpling to the sidewalk as you hurried to cover your ears. Down the street you could make out the screech of metal smacking against metal, see the flailing limbs of two massive robots staggering clumsily through the street as they traded blows with each other. Neither of them were one you recognized, the red Autobot with the oversized chest window wrestling one of the identical jet Decepticons into a clumsy headlock. As they stumbled about one of them trampled on a car parked along the curb, and you winced as the metal shrieked and crumpled under his massive foot.

Yeah, time to get out of here. You gathered up your bags and ducked into the alley between the buildings, slipping past trash bags and old graffiti, trying not to tread in any unidentifiable puddles. Off in the distance you could hear an emergency siren start to wail, hopefully signaling that whatever the space robots were quarreling over this time would be settled sooner rather than later. All you really wanted was to get back home without any further interruptions.

But as you emerged from the back alley entrance and found yourself hoisted into the air by two massive metal hands around your waist, you'd decided to kiss that chance goodbye. Your bags clattered to the ground once more, bread and fruit and canned goods spilling out around a familiar pair of pedes. When you glanced up to his faceplate, the glow of his visor was nearly enough to blind you.

“Rumble?!”

His visor dimmed enough that you could see his intake, which had just before been pulled into a maniacal grin, drop open in visible shock. Then, as quick as it came, it was gone, replaced instead with a tight, furrowed frown. 

“What’re you doin’ out here?” He barked.

“Buying food. Or trying to, at least.” You glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Ravage pounce on that yellow Autobot with the horns that was always showing up in the news. “You guys having a little play date or something?”

He scoffed out a laugh, quickly stifling it with a clearing of his vents. “Whatsit matter to ya? Didn't think you cared dat much about lil’ old me.”

“Rumble, what…?” Was he seriously pouting? Or maybe trying to guilt trip you? For what, making him cum? “What are you even talking about? I haven't seen you in like, two weeks.”

“Aww, real funny! You know what I mean! I let you poke around in my chassis and run up my charge, an’ after that it's radio silence? Whaddya humans call it… ghosting? Make a mech feel like second-rate shareware, why don't ya?”

You blinked at him once, twice, mind spinning as you tried to process his words.

“Are you- are you mad I didn't call you?”

His optic lights beamed as he bristled, armor flaring with a hiss before clamping tight back to his frame. “I told you to comm me!”

“Rumble, I don't have your number! I couldn't call you even if I wanted to!”

His grip went slightly slack as he stared at you, leaving you dangling from your armpits like a cat. 

“I… I hailed you my frequency. In da EM field.”

“Humans don't have… whatever that is. Do you have a phone number?”

He stared at you again, much longer this time as the discordant crashing of giant metal men continued in the background. Then, with a sudden jolt, you were slipping free of his fingers as he dropped you unceremoniously to the pavement. It wasn't a far fall, just enough to make your feet tingle upon landing. When you looked up you saw he had both servos covering his faceplate, a string of muffled curses eking out between the digits.

Your mind was reeling. He actually wanted you to call him? To… repay the favor? Heat pooled in the pit if your stomach as your mind conjured up wicked memories of his stifled gasps and whimpers, how he’d squirmed beneath you as you prodded around his spark chamber. How behind all the billowing and smashing and Brooklyn-accented bravado, when you got down to the core of him, he was actually kind of… cute.

“You- just- I don’t- Get outta here! Go on, scram! Before you get stomped on or somethin’!” His face plate was flushed and glowing as he shooed at you. You would go, that was certain, you really didn't want to get stepped on after all. But first you were going to say something potentially risky, deeply embarrassing, and undoubtedly very, very stupid.

“Come over.”

His optics shuttered, flickering for a moment as he stared down at you, frozen.

“What?”

“Not right now. Tonight. When you guys are done getting wailed on? Come over.”

He opened his intake, then closed it. When he opened it a second time you caught a wisp of steam slipping through the gap in his dentae. He swallowed, hard. He never stopped staring at you.

“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Awright. I'll be there.”

“Cool. Watch out for the yellow guy.”

“Huh-HGGRRK!?!” You stumbled back a few steps just in time for the Autobot to chuck Ravage directly into Rumble’s helm, sending him crashing into the brick wall beside you.

“Sorry! Are you alright?” The little Autobot called. “You should probably get out of here!”

He didn't have to tell you twice.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The news was just wrapping up their coverage on the ‘latest Decepticon assault’ when you heard a rap on your warehouse’s roll-up door. There wasn't much to see peering out the window, the street only haphazardly illuminated by old street lights. Not that you really needed to look, there was only one guest you were expecting at this time of night anyway. 

You'd stopped at home first, mainly to take a shower and put on something that wasn’t a pair of mechanic’s overalls. But for some reason the nerves hadn't hit you until right now. You clamped down on the prickle of… anxiety? Excitement? Somewhere between the two? As you pulled the strap at the base of the roll-up, the groan of shifting metal slowly gave way to reveal…

“Are you wearing a bowtie?”

“Not bad, eh? Don't say I never cleaned up or nothin’. Here.” As Rumble stepped from the dark street into the light of the warehouse he pulled something from his subspace: a large, green bottle that he offered to you pinched between two fingers. A bottle of wine. Judging by the label, an expensive bottle of wine.

“Where did you get this?” You turned the bottle over twice in your grip, scanning the details on the back. French Merlot, aged… fifteen years? Holy shit.

“Dat fancy Italian place on the corner of Fourth and Vine! What, ya don't like it?”

“I didn't say that!” Rumble positively beamed as you clutched the bottle. “I just didn't expect it, is all. Are you… wining and dining me right now?”

“Is dat a good thing or a bad thing? Your human movies said you’re ‘sposed to bring a little somethin’ somethin’ before, y’know,” There was a sly, lopsided charm to his grin as he pulled the roll-up back down with his pede, clanking shut behind him, “Before you let me run your charge for a change.”

“You know, you don't have to try so hard to im…press… me.” You trailed off, staring down at the bottle in your hands, then back up to him, then back at the bottle, then him again. When you made eye contact with him the slyness seemed to falter a bit, leaving behind something softer in his smile. Something a little more vulnerable.

 How did it take this long for it to click for you? He was wearing a bowtie, for Christ’s sake. 

“Oh my God you're trying to impress me.”

“Eh?” A fidgeting servo tugged at his bowtie- which appeared to be made of… an old seatbelt? “Nah, you're crazy! Dis is jus’ what humans are ‘sposed to do!”

“Oh my God you are!”

“H-Hey, what'd I say about you and gettin’ big ideas?” He tried to deter you, but your mind was already racing a mile a minute. 

“Do you actually like me? Like, want to date me? Do alien robots even date, cause I didn't know th- MMPH!”

With a massive metal palm pressed to your chest, Rumble pushed you back into your adjustable work table, still sitting at a mostly upright angle from the last time you'd repaired him. The table against your back was cold, a sharp contrast to the radiating heat from his servo as he pinned you in place with his hand. His face was inches from yours as he leaned over you, visor now gleaming with frustration and embarrassment.

“You can't get enough of dis, huh? Like pushin’ my buttons so much?” His servo pinned you down just a touch harder, forcing the air from your lungs in a breathy wheeze. “‘Oh, it's so fun to get Rumble all flustered! Lemme mess wit’ his head a lil more!’ Well maybe it’s Ol’ Rumble’s turn to do da messin’ around, huh? See how you like it when someone’s toyin’ with your sensitive bits.”

He bared his dentae as he spoke, another hiss of steam curling around your cheeks. It made your hair stand on end. A hot thrill ran through you, and you fought the urge to let your knees knock together, confident that Rumble would be able to keep you in place with brute strength alone. You could feel his thumb smoothing back and forth across your shirt, and as he glanced down at his servo the glare of his visor lessened slightly.

“...Why’s your fuel pump goin’ all crazy? You scared or somethin’?”

You swallowed a mouthful of saliva, willing your foggy mind to function. “Not… Not scared, exactly.”

There were a few seconds of tense silence, before the wickedest, prideful grin crept back up across his faceplate. 

“Oh? Is dat so?” His other servo rose to grip the top edge of the table, fingers molding to fit the dent he’d left there previously as he loomed over you. “Well maybe we oughta do somethin’ about tha- SCRAP!”

His flirtations were cut short by the sharp SNAP of the stabilizing lock on your workbench failing under Rumble’s weight and flipping 180 degrees over. The world pitched and spun as you tumbled backwards, yelping as the table flipped and deposited you upside-down on the floor, legs sticking akimbo in the air. From between your dangling feet you could see Rumble peering over you with his sly expression wiped off his visor by one of concern.

“Slag! I didn't crush your little pedes when you flipped, did I? Cause I don't no nothin’ about fixin’ up injured squishies.”

Miraculously, you had managed to make it through that ass-over-elbow fall without hitting your head on anything, or Rumble accidentally pinning your legs in place between his bulk and the table frame. “I’m alright! Just didn't expect it, I’m okay.”

“Dat’s good. Here lemme jus’-” You felt a servo close around each of your ankles. With an effortless tug Rumble dragged you back up, tabletop tipping with you as it clunked back into its standard, flat position. Of course, this now left you with your ass and legs dangling off the edge of the workbench, Rumble standing between them with a servo resting on each knee. “Better?”

You sucked in a breath, trying desperately not to look overeager. “Better.”

“Ah, slaggit all…” But instead of putting his servos back on you (where you most certainly wanted them) Rumble began to scratch at the back of his neck, failing to meet your gaze. “Guess I ain't really cut out for all this… whaddaya call it? ‘Winin’ and dinin’?’ Can't even get my servos on ya without fraggin’ it up.”

“Hey, I’m definitely not complaining.” You attempted a jokey tone, but it didn't seem to do much to dampen Rumble’s current self-deprecation. You let the playful edge fall away as you dropped into something a bit softer. “I mean it though. You don't have to try to impress me. I mean it's appreciated! But, y’know, I wouldn't have agreed to this if I wasn't already happy with the bot I was getting into it with.”

“Heh. Even if I end up crushin’ you a bit?”

“That's a risk I'm willing to take.”

He barked out another laugh, accompanied by a coil of thin steam hissing through his gap-dentae. “Well I guess I better make it worth da risk, shouldn't I?”

He snuck a servo under each of your knees, pushing them apart as he rocked his modesty panel against your clothed core. You stifled a gasp, the ridge of sturdy metal almost hot against you, even through layers of cotton and denim. The slow roll of his hips made your own stutter up off of the table, desperate for further friction.

“Cute. You like grindin’ on my panel? Should I make you bust jus’ like this?”

Despite the warm curl of arousal pooling in your stomach from the feeling, you knew this wouldn't be enough to get you off. Rumble seemed to know it too, letting out a low, pleased chuckle at your desperate expression.

“Jus’ yankin’ yer crankcase, sweetspark. I got somethin’ a lot more fun in mind for tonight anyway. Dat is, if you'll start gettin’ dese off.” He hooked a digit through your belt loop and gave them an experimental tug.

“Mmh, what, you don’t want to take them off yourself?” 

“Oh, I’ll gladly take ‘em off ya. Just figured you’d take care of dis part here…” His thick digits slid inward, ghosting over the button of your jeans. “So I don't gotta rip ‘em off ya instead.”

You weighed your options. On one hand, the image of Rumble tearing denim apart with his bare servos as if it was no more than wet tissue paper was far more appealing to you than you would have originally expected. On the other hand… well, they were new jeans.

“I got it.” You mumbled, quietly filing the image away in your brain for later use as you undid your button and zipper. “Careful with th- Oh!”

With a sharp yank, Rumble tugged your jeans and underwear off your legs and let them crumple onto the floor. Shoving himself into the space between your knees, you could only barely make out the top of his helm over the slope of your stomach as he knelt before you, spreading your folds with two digits and… staring.

You waited for a response, a quip, the slow drag of metal over your slick hole, but were instead greeted with silence. Something prickled in the pit of your stomach as you fought the urge to squirm. In the back of your mind you vaguely remembered that you hadn't really gotten to see what Rumble was packing, and only now were you grappling with the truth that you were trying to have sex with a truly alien being. Would your bodies even be compatible? Was he weirded out right now? You tried to pull your knees together, only to be stopped by a rough servo shoving them back open.

“...It's rude to stare.” You muttered.

“EY! I ain't starin’! I'm, uh, admirin’. Dat’s it.” There was a similar tightness to Rumble’s voice. You shuddered as a thumb stroked the crease of your thigh. “Soft… An’ it's supposed to be dat pink?”

“Y-Yeah… that's, mmh, normal.” You shuddered at a wave of steam curling over your sensitive heat as he spread you again, visor locked on your twitching entrance.

“Primus. And you're really gonna let me spike ya in this tiny little hole?” You could feel his thumb just brushing the rim and stifled a groan at the sudden, aching emptiness, the demand to be filled. “I don't wanna tear you in half or nothin’.”

“It’ll fit.” You whined, core tensing around nothing. “We’re, unh, we’re pretty flexible. C’mon, Rumble…” You forced your knees further apart, pushing your hips up into each of Rumble's far-too-light touches. His motor snarled in response, a massive hand gripping the inside of each of your thighs.

“Slag. You're really achin’ for it, aren’tcha?” His voice was lower than you'd ever heard it before, deep and resonant and primal. “But I ain't gonna give it to ya dat easy, doll. Gotta make sure you can take it first.” 

He raised his helm for just a moment, just enough for you to get a peek of his beaming visor and his wicked, gap-toothed grin between your legs. Then he descended, lathing his thick, hot glossa up the length of your cunt. You choked on a gasp, his servos the only thing keeping your hips from rabbiting up off the table. It was hot, his glossa thick and sturdy and drooling with oral lubricant, a thin layer of silicon over sturdier metal mesh dragging up through your folds.

“Easy, sweetspark…” You weren't the only one enjoying themselves. Rumble's low, rattling groan pulsed through your cunt. You swore you could just barely make out him groaning your name but it was lost, muffled as he pressed his faceplate further between your legs and his servos shivered where they gripped your thighs. He was messy and all too eager, arousal and oral lubricant spilling down his chin as his glossa stroked you; slow, deliberate drags up your folds until you were left dripping. At the apex he found your clit and took it between his dermas, a teasing hum rattling throughout his engine that had you gasping, thighs clenching around his thick helm. Your legs jerked as warmth bloomed outward from your core, hips writhing against the onslaught of pleasure. Dragging across his back your heel caught in a rounded divot, pulling a raggedy vent through Rumble’s dentae as his frame twitched.

“”Mmpfh!~ E-Ey, watch da spindle. It’s sensitive in dere…” He groaned, face still pressed into your cunt, servos only dragging your ass further off the table in his efforts to get somehow even closer to you. But instead you dug your heel in harder, pressing into the ridged divot and twisting your leg. The internal ring jerked with a sudden CLICK CLICK CLICK, each pop of noise making Rumble’s frame spasm like he'd just been electrocuted. “FRAG! Primus, that’s- ghh!~”

“Feel good?” You teased, breathless. His optics beamed back up at you, an oscillating, glistening red as you caught another peek of his gap-toothed grin from between your legs.

“So dat’s how you wanna play dis? Don't say I didn't warn ya, doll.” 

You barely had a chance to respond before the noise was punched out of your lungs in a sharp whine as Rumble shoved a thick, metal digit into your drooling cunt. Achingly hard, unrelenting, he flexed it against your rippling walls as his dermas nestled themselves snugly around your clit. The hum reverberating through his frame coursed through your body like a wave, hands scrabbling desperately at his helm as the twinge of pain at the sudden intrusion melted into thick, syrupy pleasure. 

“A-ah, fuck! Rumble, Rumble that's good, that's fucking good.~” Metal clanged as you lolled your head back against the table top, no longer able to keep it upright. Each drag of his digit, textured and ridged and unrelenting, sparked euphoria behind your eyelids. You felt every muscle in your body starting to prickle with pleasure, radiating outwards from your cunt and pooling in your head, your stomach, the tips of your toes…

You all but whined when he drew his digit away, dermas releasing your swollen clit with a slick pop. “C’mon! Rumble!”

“You want it dat bad, huh?” A shadow cast over your rumpled form as Rumble rose to his full height. From between your legs you could catch a glimpse of silver and blue panels fluttering and folding away, one of Rumble’s servos hiking the underside of your knee and the other stroking the gap between his thigh and pelvic armor as his spike rose to full attention. Christ, he was huge, the thick metal rod draped across your lower stomach as he rocked experimentally against you. Each thrust had the tip drooling a translucent, pinkish fluid you remembered scrubbing from the back of your jumpsuit, hot and vaguely smelling of well-oiled machinery and pooling across your bare stomach.

Rumble, for his part, seemed to be as entranced as you felt, visor vibrant and flickering as he stared down at the place his frame rubbed against your soft, supple body. A harsh ex-vent punctuated each roll of his hips, steam coiling around the corners of his slack, open intake as he pulled back, letting the tip of his spike slide wetly through your folds.

“Dat’s it, doll… You're gonna get exactly what you want. Gonna get you bouncin’ on dis spike, jus’ beggin’ for it…” His tone was low, entranced, just barely tinged with desperation. He dragged his tip through your folds again, and again, covering your cunt with his thick transfluid, making your breath hitch whenever he slid over your clit just right. You angled your hips up, guiding it right over your entrance, toes curling at the promise of pressure. 

But before you could utter his name again, or any other placation or demand, you felt the heavy press, the slow, aching slide as he entered you. It teetered just on the edge of pain, muscles twinging at your inner thighs as you forced your legs wider to accommodate his bulky armor. And his spike offered just as little give, covered with a thin layer of silicon like his glossa but still distinctly sturdy, inflexible metal. Your walls rippled helplessly around the intrusion, stretched to a delicious degree as he bullied his way inside you.

About halfway to being fully sheathed in your heat he paused, visor hazy and unfocused, intake still hanging open as he vented steam. A servo was resting on each of your hips, but while one stayed in place the other slid up, up, bunching your shirt around his digits and shoving it up above your chest. There his servo paused on your side, his massive thumb stroking back and forth over your nipple, quickly pebbling under the cool metal.

“Primus.” He breathed, distinctly softer than you ever remember hearing him before (and oh, if that didn't do just as much for your arousal as everything else). Finally, his hips began to move again, that intoxicating ache only beginning to border on near-unbearable when you could feel your ass and the backs of your thighs smushed against his pelvic armor. For another moment he paused, one servo cradling your hip and the other your chest.

Then he drew back, and thrust home.

The first thrust forced the air out of you in a desperate, sharp wheeze. This didn’t slow him, not in the slightest, digits sinking into the plush meat of your hip as he jackhammered into you. Each thrust had the entire table rattling, the sharp clang of metal against metal where his thighs hit the dented table’s edge. His quiet reverence had given way to an onslaught of erotic babble, visor locked on your face as it twisted and furrowed in pleasure.

“Takin’ it so fraggin well… You’re just made for takin’ my spike, aren’tcha?” He scooped his servo under your hip and lifted you further up, all but folding you in half as he loomed over you. His dermas brushed the curve of your jaw, just below your ear, and you could feel the heat of his ex-vent making your skin tingle. “You’ve jus’ been waitin’ for me to frag you stupid, plug up that achin’ valve til you can’t think of nothin’ else.”

“Mmmh…~ It’s so big.” You slurred, thighs slick with sweat and slipping on his plating as you struggled to lock your ankles in the small of his back. His frame shivered like an electric current ran through it, clutching you somehow even closer to his massive chassis.

“Nghh…~ Yeah? You love dis fat spike, don’tcha? Say it.”

“I love it!~”

“You want me to spill my load in this tight little valve, don’tcha?”

“Please!”

“Aghh, slag! Y-You’re gonna get it, sweetspark. You’re gonna take it all, j-just-mmfh!~” His vents were ragged and desperate, thrusts stuttering as he neared his release. You squealed as his thumb found your clit, rubbing the swollen bud in rough, tight circles. Euphoria was buzzing throughout your body, the ache of your lower back buried beneath the onslaught of pleasure and heat coiling in the pit of your stomach and blooming out through your limbs, legs shaking, hands trembling.

Sparks exploded behind your eyelids as your orgasm washed over you, hips jerking weakly against Rumble’s. There was no give to his spike at all, thick and steady and unyielding as your pussy squeezed and pulsed around it. You felt a flood of something molten spill into your core, filling you nearly to the point of aching as it spilled out around the tight ring of your hole around his base. Rumble’s frame stuttered, jittering, a harsh crackle of static and mechanical chatter pouring from his drooling intake where it was still buried in the crook of your neck. Finally, finally, his frame grew still. The only noise between the two of you were your shared, harsh breaths and the low churn of the occasional car driving past outside.

“Mmmmnnghh…” Rumble groaned, shifting his hips to pull his shrinking spike from your core as he rose unsteadily back to an upright position. You could feel transfluid dribbling from your hole as he tucked himself back away- thick, translucent globs spilling down the insides of your thighs and hitting the floor with a splatter. His engine gave a little, stuttering snarl despite himself as he dragged his digit tips through the shimmering line along one of your inner thighs. “I oughta take a picture of dis…”

“Don’t you dare.” You kicked weakly at his servo, legs now tingling with static as blood rushed back to them. He barked out a sharp laugh, effortlessly batting your foot aside. His servo rested atop your lower stomach and gave a teasing press, and you shivered as more globs of thick transfluid drooled from your cunt. “Jerk.”

“Eyy, you love it!”

“Unfortunately.” There was no real bite to your tone, you could tell by the way Rumble grinned. “Think you can give me a hand getting over to the bathroom before my knees give out?”

“Depends. Does dat count as you owin’ me a favor?”

[blackhairedjjun]

thoughts on food truck chef!yeonjun x office worker!reader

meet cute, gn!reader, warnings for food and overwork

unfortunately one day, you forget to bring the lunch you packed to work. fortunately, a new food truck selling burgers and fries has decided to park a few blocks away from your office building.

at first you don't think much of it: you stand in line with a few other employees in front of you, then a gruff middle-aged man takes your order, then you wait for a few minutes for your burger to be grilled. when your name is called, however, your order is served not by the same gruff man but by a handsome young man about your age. he smiles at you when he hands over the wrapped burger and you suddenly feel dizzy from the way he looks at you.

it soon becomes routine for you to visit the food truck during your lunch break at least once a week - maybe you order a burger because you "forgot" your lunch at home, or maybe you just order some fries or a drink to go with the food you already have. the cute cook always smiles and chats with the customers, including you; he asks about your day, if you enjoyed your last order with him, how you spent your last weekend. even if you've ordered nothing more than a soda, he still takes the time to talk to you.

and when you ask him how his weekend was and how his day's been going, he breaks out into shy laughter, his ears turning pink.

you learn that his name is yeonjun, that he lives in the same apartment building as his four closest friends, and that he likes to take photos or do dance covers when he isn't busy with his job at the food truck. he starts peppering his conversations with little flirtations, each one making your heart flutter, but you tell yourself that it's nothing. he likes being cheeky with all his customers.

one night you find yourself going home late after an incredibly long overtime shift. you have a client who wants a rush project, and that means more hours at your desk; the first step outside your office building feels like entering paradise. you don't expect anyone else to be out as late as you, yet when you pass by the food truck you find yeonjun all by himself locking it shut.

he overslept and arrived past the lunch rush hour, he explains, and to make up for it his boss made him clean up by himself.

he's headed to the same train station as you and is even taking the same line, just with a different stop, so the two of you head home together. he tells you that he overslept because he stayed up editing a video of his dance covers, a little passion project of his. you rant to him about your new client and he frowns, worrying that you're working yourself to the bone. "you're too precious to be stressing out over a client who doesn't really care," he says.

you turn away from him so that he doesn't see you blush.

on the train home he shows you a draft of his dance cover video on his phone. you've never seen this side of yeonjun before: he is completely in his element, moving perfectly with the music, expressing just how he feels with his body. you gasp and shower him with compliments, and all he can do is let out nervous giggles and mumble shy "thank you"s. you love this side of him and you wish that you could see it more.

his stop is before yours, and before he gets off he looks at you then opens his mouth. nothing comes out. he closes his mouth then opens it again, then croaks out: "can i... have your number?"

you heartbeat is ringing in your ears as you exchange phones and type in your contact details, but you're smiling so much that you can feel your cheeks ache. "text me when you get home," you say, your voice just as shaky.

"i will," he says just as train pulls in at his stop. "you too, okay?"

"okay. take care, yeonjun."

"good night."

he takes one last look at you before he exits the train, his ears still red. you watch his figure as he goes, then press your hands to your cheeks as if to stop yourself from blushing so much.

let this be only the beginning, your heart tells you.

omg i don't know what came over me... the clips of burger cook!yeonjun from the concept trailer took over my mind he looked soooo good lksdjfklsjf i just had to write sth about it so i wrote all of this in one go. maybe if i have the energy i'll turn this into a proper fic...? idk

[heelluring]

— wherein your boyfriend, heeseung cheated...

warnings: C H E A T I N G, caught in an act redhanded, angst angst angst, cursing, sex, hoping bad things on someone, punching and slapping, melted ice cream (?)

You can't deny that the relationship between you and heeseung are starting to blur. It started with a simple, 'i'm tired...' until it escalated into no calls for almost a week. Tried to be an understanding girlfriend, giving him as much 'space' as he wants that maybe, you regret doing so. It feels like it just cause further drift in between you two.

You tried asking for help though, that's when your sister, rina came into picture. Your sister tried to reassure you, she is working at the same company as heeseung does and as his senior. "He's just tired, the company's expecting everything to be perfect for this upcoming project and everyone is tensed." She said dismissing your worries when you met her for a coffee.

"You really think so, unnie?"

"I swear, after this week hee will just come back to you as if nothing happened" You were delighted when you heard that. But, when did your sister called your boyfriend by his nickname that you only have the privileged to use? BUT THEN AGAIN, you're still happy with the reassurance she gave you. Holding out hope that you didn't poke around the 'nickname' incident too much. Maybe after working for the same company, they became close. Perhaps, rina and heeseung became each other's support system as they struggle to work in a toxic environment. That made you feel relieved for some reason.

True to her words, heeseung came back to you like nothing happened in the following week. He was all smiles, the happier ever since you seen him. You felt like the past came back when the both of you are just starting with your relationship. Heeseung was so attentive when he came back that time, saying he wanted to spend time together as a payment for all the times the two of you didn't got to do what the other couples do. You were happy, so happy. All the doubts, concerns, and insecurities was once again burned down the ground.

There's also a time where you invited rina to have lunch with you and heeseung, with also the purpose to thank her for reassuring you but of course, heeseung doesn't need to know about that. And so, with the three of you in a table, you can't help but smile and enjoy the company of the two people you love. Can't help but to laugh at their antics as they talk and tell silly stories together.

Then, heeseung had to go into a business trip. He said this would be his ticket to get a promotion, and as his girlfriend, you let him go with a heart burning support. Reassuring, and taking care of everything he need until he left. Weeks passed by and you haven't heard of him. Aside from the occasional, 'I'm okay... don't skip breakfast' there was nothing. No calls or video calls.

And, you understand. Heeseung was working so hard to get this promotion and the only thing you can do to support is by waiting for him. Just like today, as always... you tried your luck, maybe he's free and having his lunch right now since it's morning in the New York whilst it's late at night in Seoul. Maybe he'll finally pick up the phone since according to rina the company is doing some finishing touches and will be back at the end of the week, and besides there's only a 12 hours difference. You always make sure to call him in the morning to not disturb him so now that heeseung will be back soon, you were filled with hope. But then,

The number you have dialed is either—

he's not answering. You tried to dial his number again but it still failed. It's not even ringing, perhaps his phone died. Maybe he's too tired, is he even eating well? You can't do anything but sighed, and continued to walk. With a tab of ice cream in your hand, you finally saw Rina's apartment building. After confirming your identification to the security, you waited for the elevator.

Ever since heeseung left, you tried spending time with your sister. Growing up, you're not that close. And after her help with regards to your relationship, you felt something sparked in between of you causing you to wonder what happened for the two of you to grow apart. Seeing this as an opportunity to build connection, you tried hanging out with her. But, she's been busy for a while. Always saying that you two will hang out once all her work is done. You were concerned about her, of course. It looks like the company is giving her a hard time so you stepped up your game. What could comfort her better than a good creamy ice cream, right?

The elevator produced a sound the same time its doors opened to the intended floor. You calmy took a step, mumbling the unit number over and over again. "205... 205..." You carefully looked at the unit number before finally stopping at the right door. You were about to knock when the door moved open slightly at the sudden force from your knuckles. It didn't create a sound though, the door wasn't locked at all. Or, maybe rina thought she did locked it but failed to do so the last time she used it.

You, then pushed it completely open as the silence greets you. All the main lights are off aside from the light and soft sounds coming from the living room. You started walking through the entrance, and after sensing that there's a person, it automatically opened its lights. A pair of men's shoes scattered lousily at the floor. Your sister obviously got a visitor.

You continued your venture until you came into the living room. The light and the sound you heard earlier came from the TV as you expected, the soft buzz of the actors' voices where the only sounds heard in the entire apartment. Your eyes then travelled to a certain direction, and was greeted by a rather familiar suitcase. Your heart beat in a rather uncomfortable way. You were getting nervous from the thoughts that are slowly creeping inside your mind.

"It's impossible, y/n. Heeseung's still in new york..."

You sighed, trying to control your breathing that you didn't even noticed escalating the same time as your heart beat. After getting courage that you didn't even know where you get, you started walking closer to the couch. A piece of clothing one after another revealed in your eyes. You tried to calm yourself but the way your hands trembled says otherwise, as you bravely grabbed the neck tie that is disposed on the couch together with the others.

It's a classic dark blue with an elegant design. A design that you are so familiar with as the one who personally picked and gifted it for heeseung's birthday last year. You clutched it closes to your heart, as the other one made in contact with your mouth, tears slowly filling your waterlines.

"Ugh—" Your breath hitched at the sound, head swiftly looking at the direction of the master's bedroom to your side. You frozed completely, even your breath stopped. The only thing you can feel is the way you heart beats as you wait for another sound. Maybe it's all in your head, a hallucination. You decided to walk closer to the door, now all numb and deprived of normality.

You thought you're dead inside but what you see on the other side of the door is what further killed you. "Ugh, shit, hee! You're fucking me so good baby. Yes—" It was your sister getting fucked by your boyfriend of 3 years on the bed. You can clearly see how heeseung's cock disappear in her hole as he thrust. How her eyes rolled at the back of her head in every rut. Groans, moans, and slap of skin to skin were the ones dominating the whole room. How can you not hear them the first time you walked in? How can you not see all the signs?

That's when you realize, you were blind all along. How can you not suspect when your sister called your boyfriend by his nickname? How can you not doubt all the smiles and subtle touches they do at the lunch you three did? How can you be so oblivious all this time?

You sighed despite the shaky breath, as you swipe the tears away. This will fucking end now, and you'll make sure to see the end of it as you look at the security camera blinking in corner of the ceiling.

As the moans increased, you decided to kick the door with all the strength you had making it swung open with an alarming noise together with the panic screams you induced to the two people on the bed.

"Shit— Y/N!" Heeseung cursed getting dressed in panic as rina hugged the sheets to cover herself. "Y/N... this is not what it looks—" The man stopped his blabber when you throw the tab of ice cream at them and to everyone's surprise the now melted chocolate ice cream spilled everywhere staining the bed and the two. "We're over..." You said, surprised by how stable your voice are, how void you are of emotions. And, that's the last thing you said before turning around to walk away.

You were about to go out the front door when a pair of hands stopped you on your way, "Wait, y/n... please, love let me explain" Heeseung desperately begged, as he look straight at you. His eyes filled with emotions but... you unfortunately, weren't. His hair was messy, there are marks everywhere on his body, and most of all his lips are swelling with a stain of red lipstick, a profound reminder of his deception.

And, your lack of emotions as you look at him made heeseung devastated. You sneered, harshly swatting his hold before your clenched fists made in contact with his face. Heeseung fell on the floor, shocked as he look up to you. You thought you were drained of emotion but you were completely wrong. You can't feel anything other than, "I am so fucking disgusted of you." ... disgust. And the way your eyes look at him empty, with no expectation whatsoever, as if he wasn't deserving of any emotions even anger from you made heeseung even more distraught.

You felt another presence walking up to you, but before she can even finish apologizing your hands automatically made in contact with her cheeks making her look at you in shock. "I hope both of you suffer far more greater than I felt." and I'll make sure of that. You mumbled before walking completely out of their lives.

heelluring, 2024

[rispwr]

If i were you i'd do me - JK - MDNI - 1

pairingsfuckboy! jk x fem! reader, established relationship, mentions of smart! namjoon x oc, slow burn

contents/warnings rich! oc, nepo! oc, fuckboy! jk, rich! jk, slight love triangle, degrading, smut, unprotected xxx, spoiled! oc, tit lover! jk, big c! jk, missionary, fingering, semi-public xxx

taglist> comment if yall wanna be added

contextJungkook, the notorious campus heartbreaker and player, unexpectedly becomes your groupmate alongside Namjoon, the guy you’ve secretly admired for ages. However, it seems your feelings have started shifting from Namjoon to someone else entirely unexpected…

two or three part series

The lecture hall buzzed with low murmurs and the shuffling of papers as students settled into their seats. I sat quietly, tapping my pen against the edge of my notebook, my thoughts drifting in and out as I half-listened to the professor’s voice at the front of the room. My mind kept wandering, anticipating who I would be grouped with for this project. Please, please let it be Namjoon.

Namjoon had been my quiet crush since the first day of university. He was everything you’d want in a guy: smart, kind, and effortlessly hot. The kind of guy who always knew the answer to the professor’s most complicated questions, who smiled in that soft, unassuming way that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. It didn’t help that he had these deep dimples that appeared whenever he smiled, making my heart race just a little faster each time I saw them.

But as the professor continued to rattle off group assignments, I was growing more nervous. He hadn’t mentioned my name yet, and that gnawing anxiety at the pit of my stomach told me I wasn’t going to get lucky.

“And next,” Professor Lee announced, glancing at the list on his clipboard. “Y/N, you’ll be partnered with Jeon Jungkook.”

The room seemed to freeze for a moment. My eyes widened in disbelief, and a heavy weight dropped in my chest. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.

I glanced to my left where Jungkook sat, his usual cocky grin plastered across his annoyingly handsome face. He caught my eye and, as if on cue, that grin widened into a playful smirk. My fingers tightened around the pen in my hand, nearly snapping it in two. Of all the people on this campus, I had to be grouped with him.

Jungkook was notorious around the university for being a player. His reputation for breaking hearts and leaving a trail of jilted girls behind him was almost as well-known as his stupidly good looks. Muscular build, sharp jawline, tattooed arm—it was no wonder girls threw themselves at him. But I wasn’t interested. In fact, I despised him. He was always teasing me, always pushing my buttons in the worst ways possible. We couldn’t be more different.

And yet, fate—or Professor Lee—had thrown us together for this project.

I could already feel the irritation bubbling up in me as I forced myself to break eye contact with Jungkook, turning my attention back to the professor, hoping against hope for something—anything—that would make this less of a nightmare.

“And Namjoon,” Professor Lee continued, reading the next name on his list. “You’ll be in the same group as well.”

For a moment, I blinked, my brain taking a second to catch up. Wait—what?

I couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at my lips. Namjoon. Namjoon was in my group. Maybe this wasn’t going to be such a disaster after all.

I glanced over at Namjoon, who was sitting a couple of rows ahead of me. He turned in his seat, meeting my eyes, and gave me that warm, dimpled smile that never failed to make my heart skip a beat. I smiled back, feeling a tiny spark of hope. Maybe Jungkook’s presence wouldn’t be so unbearable if Namjoon was around.

Still, the fact that I had to work with Jungkook was an annoyance I couldn’t shake. As the class continued and Professor Lee finished the assignments, I couldn’t help but shoot a glare in Jungkook’s direction. He, of course, was still smirking at me, clearly enjoying the fact that this was bothering me.

Once the professor dismissed the class, I packed up my things slowly, waiting for Namjoon to come over. I didn’t want to seem too eager, but my heart was already beating faster at the thought of spending time with him.

“Hey, Y/N,” Namjoon said as he approached, his voice soft and warm. “I’m really sorry, but I’m not free to meet today. I’ve got some meetings and a lot on my plate.”

My smile faltered, but I quickly masked it with a nod. “That’s okay! We can always work on it later this week.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Namjoon said, flashing me that kind smile again before turning to leave. I watched him go, feeling a slight pang of disappointment. I’d been looking forward to spending more time with him, but at least we’d have other days.

As Namjoon left the room, I turned back to gather my things, fully expecting to leave right after. But then I noticed that the room had grown strangely quiet. Too quiet. Everyone else had left, except for one person.

Jungkook.

I looked up, and there he was, still sitting at his desk, his eyes locked on me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. For a moment, we just stared at each other in silence. I tried to ignore the flutter of nervous energy building in my stomach.

Without warning, Jungkook stood up and began walking toward me with slow, deliberate steps. My pulse quickened. There was something about the way he moved, something almost predatory, that made my breath catch in my throat.

I forced myself to stand my ground, even as he came closer, his presence almost suffocating in its intensity. When he stopped just inches away from me, I found myself pressed back against the wall without even realizing it. My heart was pounding in my chest now, and I could feel a flush rising to my cheeks.

“What do you want, Jungkook?” I asked, trying to sound as indifferent as possible, though my voice came out shakier than I’d like.

Jungkook tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. His lips curved into that maddeningly cocky smile I hated so much, the one that made it seem like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Not happy about being paired with me?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was an edge to it that I couldn’t quite place.

I glared at him, trying to keep my cool despite the sudden closeness of his body to mine. “You know exactly why I’m not happy.”

He chuckled, and the sound sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. “Why do you always assume the worst of me?”

“Maybe because you act like a player, Jungkook.”

The smile on his face faltered just slightly, but only for a brief second before it was back again, even more infuriating than before. “If you think I’m going to fuck you like I do with the others, you’re wrong.” He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “Though, I have to admit… you’re already thinking about me, aren’t you?”

My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. The audacity of him. I hated how he was getting under my skin, how my body was reacting even though my mind was screaming at me to push him away.

“You’ve been fucking me with your eyes all day, Jeon,” I shot back, trying to regain some control over the situation, though my voice betrayed me.

He let out a low chuckle, his hand coming up to gently brush a strand of hair behind my ear. The touch was soft, intimate, and it sent a ripple of heat through me. “Hm, bratty. I like that,” he muttered, his voice laced with amusement.

Jungkook’s gaze dropped to my lips for a moment before meeting my eyes again, and his next words sent a shockwave of tension through the room. “One day, Y/N. One day.”

I clenched my jaw, trying to suppress the rush of emotions flooding through me. “You wish,” I muttered, pushing past him, my heart racing as I left the room.

But even as I walked away, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of his gaze lingering on me, and the dangerous promise hanging in the air between us.

I had barely drifted off to sleep when the sharp buzz of my phone jolted me awake. I groaned, blinking at the clock. It was 2 a.m. Who could possibly be texting me at this hour?

Reaching over to grab my phone, I squinted at the screen. Of course.

it's jungkook

The morning sun filtered through the campus as I made my way toward class, still fuming from Jungkook’s obnoxious texts the night before. I hadn't replied after his last message, but it had taken everything in me to resist throwing my phone across the room. I couldn’t afford any more distractions today—I had to focus on this group project.

After class, I sent a message to both Namjoon and Jungkook, asking them to meet me at the library. They both replied with a quick "yes," but I couldn't shake the feeling that this was not gonna go well

The library was a sea of activity, but our corner was a bubble of escalating tension. Namjoon and I had been discussing some preliminary ideas when Jungkook strolled in, his usual confident swagger in full display. He slid into the chair next to me with a grin that made me feel both anxious and irritated.

“Morning, everyone,” Jungkook said, looking around the table. He glanced at Namjoon with a challenge in his eyes before turning his attention to me. “Let’s get this project rolling.”

Namjoon’s expression shifted subtly from polite to guarded. “Morning, Jungkook. We were just about to outline our approach. We thought starting with a structured plan would be best.”

Jungkook smirked. “Structured plan? Sounds like a surefire way to kill any chance of creativity. Why don’t we start by brainstorming some wild ideas and see where that takes us?”

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed. “Brainstorming is great, but if we just dive in without a plan, we’ll end up with a mess. You need structure to keep things on track. Or are you just trying to avoid putting in the actual work?”

Jungkook leaned back, crossing his arms. “Avoiding work? That’s rich coming from you. Your idea of structure is basically setting up a boring checklist. Creativity doesn’t fit into a neat little box.”

Namjoon scoffed. “And your approach is just to throw ideas at the wall and see what sticks? That’s not exactly groundbreaking. It’s like hoping for a miracle instead of actually planning for success.”

I felt my frustration bubbling up as their argument intensified. They were clearly not going to back down, and their petty comments were only making things worse.

Jungkook’s tone was mocking. “Oh, right. Because your idea is so much better. Let’s just stick to the same old formula and hope for a pat on the back. How original.”

Namjoon shot back with equal disdain. “Better than relying on vague, half-baked ideas that have no real direction. At least with structure, we can ensure everything’s covered. But I guess you wouldn’t understand that because you’re too busy chasing after girls."

Their barbed comments continued to fly, and I could see their tempers rising. The petty back-and-forth was not only unproductive but also frustrating. I needed to step in before things got out of hand.

“Enough!” I said, my voice cutting through their argument. “This is a fucking group project, not a battleground for your egos. I’m tired of listening to you two trash each other’s ideas. We need to find a way to work together, not tear each other down.”

Jungkook and Namjoon looked at me, surprised by my outburst. Jungkook’s smirk had faded, replaced by a look of frustration, while Namjoon’s expression softened into a more serious one.

“I get that you both have strong opinions,” I continued, “but this constant fighting isn’t helping us. We need to find a middle ground and actually get something done.”

Namjoon nodded, though his frustration was still evident. “Alright. We can start with a basic outline and then use brainstorming to refine our ideas. But we need to work together and stop comparing our approaches in a negative way.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened, but he agreed. “Fine. We’ll try to blend the ideas. But let’s not pretend that sticking to a rigid structure is the only way to succeed.”

With a sigh, I turned my attention to the project, hoping that their petty arguments would finally subside. The atmosphere was tense, but we needed to focus on making progress.

As we began to work, Jungkook and Namjoon continued to exchange glances, but the competitive edge had softened, if only slightly. The project started to come together, despite the earlier conflict. Their combined skills and knowledge were proving valuable, even if the process had been rocky.

The tension between them didn’t disappear completely, but the focus shifted back to the project. I hoped that, with time, we could find a way to collaborate more effectively and leave the petty arguments behind. For now, though, I was just relieved that we were making some progress.

As the afternoon wore on, we finally wrapped up our work on the project. The tension had eased somewhat, and while Jungkook and Namjoon were still exchanging occasional glances, the project was moving in the right direction. I packed up my things, exhausted and ready to collapse on my bed.

As I was about to leave, both Jungkook and Namjoon approached me at the same time. Their expressions were hopeful, clearly looking for a way to end the day on a positive note.

"Hey, Y/N," Jungkook said, flashing a charming smile. "How about we grab dinner together? I know this great new place nearby."

Namjoon chimed in almost simultaneously. "Actually, Y/N, I was thinking we could go out for dinner too. It'd be nice to unwind and talk more about the project."

I sighed, feeling the exhaustion hit me hard. The last thing I wanted was to deal with more socializing, especially given how the day had gone. I just wanted to go home, eat something simple, and crash.

"Thanks, but I'm really not up for it," I said, trying to keep my tone as polite as possible despite my irritation. "I'm tired and just want to head home."

Jungkook's smile faltered slightly. "Come on, Y/N. It'll be fun. We can relax and enjoy ourselves."

Namjoon, noticing Jungkook's persistence, added, "Yeah, it'll be a good break from all the work. Plus, we can discuss the project more informally."

I looked at both of them, feeling a surge of frustration. Their attitudes today had been less than stellar, and I was fed up with their petty arguing. I shook my head, turning on my heel and heading towards the exit.

"I'm really not interested," I said over my shoulder. "You two figure it out yourselves."

As I walked away, I could hear Jungkook and Namjoon start to bicker. Their voices carried through the library, each of them blaming the other for my refusal.

"See what you did?" Jungkook's voice was laced with annoyance. "You pushed her away with your rigid attitude. She was already pissed off before you even said anything."

Namjoon shot back, his tone sharp. "My attitude? You're the one who couldn't stop acting like a fuckboy all day. Maybe if you had been a little more respectful, things wouldn't have ended up this way."

Jungkook's eyes flashed with anger. "Oh, that's rich coming from you. At least I'm not some nerd who can't get out of his own head. You think you're so superior with your so-called 'structure' and 'organization.'"

Namjoon's face reddened. "Better to be a 'nerd' than a shallow idiot who only knows how to fuck his way through life. Maybe if you took things more seriously, you wouldn't be in this mess."

The argument escalated quickly, with Jungkook and Namjoon exchanging heated insults. I could hear them accusing each other of ruining the evening, each blaming the other for my decision to leave. Their pettiness was almost comical, but I had no intention of sticking around to watch their drama unfold.

I finally made it home, the familiar comfort of my apartment offering a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the day. I dropped my bag by the door and headed straight for my room, craving the solace of my bed. To my surprise, I found Hoseok, my best friend, lounging on my bed with a relaxed grin on his face.

“Hoseok? What are you doing here?” I asked, my frustration from the day still bubbling beneath the surface.

Hoseok looked up, his smile widening. “Surprise! I thought I’d drop by and hang out. actually your mom called me to hang out with her. we ended up shopping and getting spa today. but anyways why do u look sad? want me to cheer you up?”

I sank onto the edge of my bed, letting out a heavy sigh. “Cheer me up? I think I need to vent first. You have no idea how frustrating today was.”

Hoseok sat up, giving me his full attention. “Alright, let it out. What happened?”

I started pacing the room, my frustration pouring out in a torrent. “It’s Jungkook. He’s been driving me insane. The guy’s a total fuckboy, and he’s so full of himself. I can’t stand how he just ignores everything and acts like he’s the only one who knows what’s best. And then Namjoon—he’s been acting so stuck up too, but at least he’s not as infuriating as Jungkook. I just wish Jungkook would disappear.”

Hoseok listened intently, nodding sympathetically. “You know what they say? The more you hate, the more you love.”

I stopped mid-sentence, turning to him with a look of confusion. “What? Are you serious right now? I like Namjoon. Jungkook is the last person I’d ever want to be involved with.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye. “Then why is Jungkook the only one you talk about? It sounds to me like he’s really getting under your skin.”

I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Because he’s impossible! He’s always around, always stirring up trouble. I’m just so done with him.”

Hoseok chuckled, leaning back against the pillows. “It’s funny how the people we argue with the most are often the ones who matter to us the most. You and Jungkook seem to have this weird dynamic. Maybe it’s not just hatred.”

I shook my head, still trying to make sense of Hoseok’s words. “I don’t know, Hoseok. I just want things to be simple. I don’t want to be tangled up in all this mess. Namjoon’s straightforward, and I can actually see a future with him.”

Hoseok’s expression softened, and he gave me a reassuring smile. “I get it. It’s easier to focus on the people who seem like they’re a better fit, like Namjoon. But sometimes, those people who challenge us and push our buttons are the ones who end up being more significant than we realize.”

I sat down next to Hoseok, feeling a bit more grounded. “I guess you have a point. It’s just hard to deal with all this drama. I need some space from Jungkook and just want to focus on what makes me happy.”

Hoseok reached over and patted my shoulder. “Well, I’m here for you. If you need to vent or just hang out and not think about any of this, I’m your guy. We can order some takeout, watch a movie, and just talk shit i don't know.”

I smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. “That sounds good. Thanks for being here, Hoseok. I really needed this.”

[cherriegyuu]

[2:08] glimpse of us

Seungcheol runs up the stairs, out of breath. There’s no military or gym training in the world that can prepare someone to run up 8 flights of stairs and he shouldn’t have done it to begin with. There were elevators but neither was there when he entered the building so he had the bright of just taking the stairs. 

The truth was, he was nervous. So incredibly so that staying in place waiting for the elevator to come back seemed too much, it was physically impossible for him just to stay put. The car ride had been a nightmare, his leg jumping up and down to the point his manager had to tell him to stop because “you’re shaking the entire car”.

He thought about his decision a lot, for months that was all he did. Thinking and taking no action at all. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he just couldn’t. 

Breaking up with you had been one of the hardest things he had ever done and what made it worse was the fact that you understood what he said. You understood why he was breaking up with you. Seungcheol would have rather you just screamed at him, hit him, lash out at him, or anything to show anger. He had promised you the world, everything he could, everything he had, and yet there he was taking it all back. 

He had watched, in complete despair, as tears ran down your face, your eyes seeming lost, focused on the window behind him, as you took in everything he had said. When Seungcheol was done talking you finally looked back at him. Your eyes glistened with tears, your cheeks stained with them. You blinked at him a few times as if trying to get something back in place, to get your thoughts in order. Collect them, somehow.

“I understand, Seventeen always comes first”

It was something he said many times. That was his job, to protect his members at all costs. Even at the expense of himself and his life. 

That was the last thing you said directly at him. And you managed to avoid him so well. In events both of you had to attend, he only saw glimpses of you. If there was a camera to his face, or yours, he couldn’t just look at you like he wanted, when you were performing all he could do was nod once or twice. If you happened to pass by him or his members, all you’d do was say a polite “hello” and bow your head. 

His heart broke every single time and he knew yours wasn’t doing much better either. Seungcheol knew you, he knew your tells, even as you did your best to control all of your emotions. 

That happened two and a half years before. Seungcheol had gone on tour and then enlisted, as planned. And every single day his heart had longed only for you. 

Maybe he was reading too much into it, maybe he was just projecting his own feelings in the thing he saw — or thought that he saw—, but Seungcheol was sure that you still felt the same way about him. If not the same then something still very similar. He knew it from the lyrics you wrote, and the things you said in interviews. 

“The color red hunts me, I think” you said once, laughing. 

Maybe he was projecting, yes, but there was also a chance that he may be right. And that was a chance he was willing to take, even if it turned sour the second he knocked on your door.

He did his best to pull the air back into his lungs in five seconds before finally knocking on the door. Seungcheol wasn’t even sure you were home, he just went there in hopes of finding you. 

It took you almost an entire minute to get to the door. Seungcheol didn’t want to get his hopes up, logically he knew that two and half years is a very long time and you could have been with someone else, or could just not want anything to do with him. But seeing you in a shirt he had left behind ignited a new spark of confidence in him.

“What are you doing here?” you said. 

It was hard to believe that he was actually there, truly in front of you, still in his uniform. You had seen on the news that he was bound to be discharged any day now but the precise one was kept a secret from the fans and thus everyone else. 

The last thing you expected was to see him on your door, in the same uniform every had gone crazy over. He looked taller, somehow, his shoulders wider than they used to be. It was something you knew was bound to happen to see it, in front of your very eyes was on your bucket list after the breakup.

“I need to ask you two questions,” he said.

You crossed your arms over your chest when you realized he had been looking at your shirt. His shirt, actually. You had managed to get rid of many of his things that had been left behind, that shirt wasn’t one of them. At first, it was because it smelled like him, it was a source of comfort when your heart was breaking time and time again. His perfume had disappeared a long time ago but still, there was no way to get rid of it. 

“Are you dating someone right now?”

Seungcheol opened and closed his fists, waiting for your answer. He didn’t know, had no idea, that he would get that nervous around you again. It was like when he first asked you out but so much worse because now he was trying to make amends. 

“That’s hardly any of your business,” you said, voice tired “but no, I’m not”

You sighed and ran a hand over your face. 

“Do you still love me?” his tone was almost desperate.

He knew that whichever your answer was, it would change his entire life. He would either be over the moon or your words would seal the nails on the coffin. 

“Seungcheol, why are you doing this?” your voice was barely a whisper. 

The last thing he wanted was to see you cry because of him, again. It was like that day, in his apartment all those years before, crushing his heart once more.  Instead of waiting for your answer, Seungcheol took the two steps separating you. He held your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours once again, to make sure that he wasn’t crossing any lines, that you too wanted that.

You sighed into him the moment his lips pressed over yours, your arms going around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Two and half years and nothing had changed.

“I do, I still do”

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[enteroctopusdarkysilis]

✨Kamino’s citadel challenge !✨

I am…very excited about this one. I’ve had this vision for a long time, and I’m so happy it’s ended up looking like that.

Now, there are a lot of things I’ll go into details along close ups under the cut; the only thing I’ll mention above is that I’m very grateful for TCW’s episode guides’ artworks, without which this would have been quite a hassle.

Okay ! Before diving into all the details and things, here is a view from above, to really display how big it is. Dimension-wise, the plank I built it on is around 110*70cm.

Now of course, the first detail which is noticeable is the floor, because, well, it’s everywhere.

This was probably the most challenging part of the build, because making a grid out of Lego is tough. Most of it is rows and rows of dark square, light lines, separated by 1*n tiles. It was the easiest way to get this pattern with as if it were just tiles; because this is one of the objectives I had here : most of this MOC is smooth, except for a few zones (usually voluntarily).

The fact I used this technic means that the floor in most place isn’t very stable, but it actually holds up pretty well because of some hidden connection points with the foundations underneath, which are mostly hidden under the cover blocks.

Here for instance, I’m using modified 1*2 bricks with a Technic hole : it hold the cover block, and it also attaches the floor to the foundation.

Of course, another problem I ran into were slopes. Much harder to get a smooth effect with the technic I’ve used, so it’s a bit wonky and unstable. Also, most them are not aligned properly, which is visible in the picture above (and some area have some really big misalignments because of a few problems I probably won’t bore anyone reading this with).

Now, since they’re also here, I can deal with the cover blocks. These were, among the details, the hardest to figure out, to get a good size while keeping some texture. Eventually I came up with this design, which, ironically enough, uses the same technic the floor uses, in a different orientation.

Another detail : the miradors :

This is one of the first elements I had in place, because I needed them to get a good sense of scale (and was made better by an existing concept art of a tower alone). Most of it does not have anything noteworthy, except for one illegal technic I used (can you spot it ?)

The pillar holding the roof of the mirador is using a technic I had in my toolbox for a long time, but had never had the occasion to use : if you take two 'brick' bricks and attach them perpendicularly on a snot brick, the small space separating the lines of 'bricks' align to let a 1*n tile in. It’s somewhat reliable (for an illegal technic) and an easy way to get octogonal shapes.

Now, before looking at the Citadel itself, let’s turn around for a minute.

This point of view obviously isn’t the intended one, but it’s still worth noting, if only for some composition.

Notice that the wall here is quite small (smaller than the miradors, even), and light gray; it’s in contrast with the towering dark gray wall on the other side, behind the citadel, which technically should give at least some impressions even to the people who never saw TCW.

Anyway, it’s also on this view that we can see most of my slope struggles, including the central one, which is the biggest I had to do.

And I can’t not mention the most important element :

What would be the challenge without a squad of clones to take it on ? These clones (4 privates and a sergent) are ready to fight ! Well. Kinda. I wish I could have actual cadets, but they are not part of the Lego universe (and the floor was enough of a fee, I can’t afford to get customs figures too). I wish I had the Dominos though. I have TBB Echo, and I plan to get my hands on Fives at some point, but they wouldn’t fit here, sadly, so instead I used some movie accurate clones (because all the others are used for a project I still haven’t posted..maybe later…)

Notably, I at some point tried to get the elevator to work - needless to say it was a disaster (it’s too close to the plate underneath to make something working).

Now, without further ado. The citadel.

I’m very proud of it. I got the proportions just right (I actually made some measurements to make sure of it), and there is just enough texture to not make it bland while leaving it as artificial. This alone took roughly 8-10h (which were all spent during an accidental all nighter, whoops), but it was worth it. It’s completely empty inside, and, in fact, the wall behind it isn’t full as well, anything behind the citadel is opened. The spikes are simple 1*3 angle plates illegally connected, and the walls’ small details were made with a bunch of modified 1*2 plates, there isn’t anything really special in it.

The only really complicated zone was the middle tower, because I had to put all the cannons while keeping it clean and smooth, and including the vertical lime lines. It was a fun challenge. And I included the 'flag' At the top, too, just a red transparent cone on a stick (there’s no need for more), which peeks above the gray wall (for composition and because of a lack of pieces).

Anyway, such a long project deserves one behind the scene photo :

Yes, my desk is messy (and include my mandatory tea cup).

On the left, you can see my remaining floor tiles, which have not been used yet; and just under the citadel, you might notice the foundations visible; it’s a checker of 2*2 tiles which gives my floor a good base to be fixed on. There are also some slopes which haven’t been placed yet (in front of the background miradors), and at this steps, there were no cover blocks or walls yet.

As far as my tools go, you might notice brick separators scattered all around my work environment (I never have enough of those), as well as a tablet in the bottom right hand corner (which i use to check and measure concept arts), and in the middle, the red triangle is an official (albeit old) Lego measurement tool which counts in stud, Lego bar holes and axe length.

Also visible, finally, is the bottom of the foundations, which are stacks of 1*2 bricks (each of the three floor layer is separated by a height of 3 bricks), which means that looking directly under it can lead to watching the dark basement of my build (which isn’t aesthetic…).

Anyway, if you read until here, thanks, I guess ? I still have a few TCW related stuff (a small one next week, some other in the foreseeable feature), so feel free to stick around and maybe leave a note, if you feel like it ? That’s it, bye !

[cradle-quill]

Surrender, an ABDL Story by CradleQuill (18+)

Disclaimer: All content is fictional, consensual, and intended only for mature audiences. All characters depicted are adults aged 18+ _

Daniel stopped typing and looked up from his manuscript. His eyes wandered to Isabelle, who sat at the other end of their shared table, supposedly chipping away at her latest work project. Her brow was stuck in a permanently furrowed state, and she was massaging her temples as she stared down at her computer screen. She had been at this for hours now. Every so often, a burst of inspiration would hit, and the sound of her acrylic nails tapping away at her mechanical keys would fill the room. Those bursts would not last, though. Before too long, Daniel would notice that the sound of his girlfriend working would disappear, replaced with a suffocating silence that lingered throughout the air, threatening to choke the life from him if he dared say a word.

It had been over thirty minutes since inspiration had last struck, and Daniel knew Isabelle was hitting her wall. He also knew she would be reluctant to admit as much. He looked back to his writing and saw he had hit his word count for the day, so he leaned back and took a deep breath. Daniel eyed Isabelle as he wondered if she was paying attention to his movements.

“You know, honey,” Daniel said with a hitch in his voice. “Maybe it’s about time for you to take a break. Relax for a bit and see if the solution comes to you.”

Isabelle shut her eyes, looking annoyed. She let out a hefty sigh. “I can’t take a break yet. I’m on the clock for another three hours, and I need to finish this by the end of the day.”

Daniel carefully considered his next words. He knew how she got when there were stakes involved, especially when those stakes involved her boss, Jim. He also knew Isabelle had a penchant for building these things up in her head and assuming the worst. “Do you actually need to finish this one today, or is it more so that you’re going to be mad at yourself if you don’t finish it?”

Isabelle shot two twin daggers for eyes at him, and he immediately got the memo. He leaned forward, and in his mind, he debated whether he wanted to continue speaking. In the end, his gut told him to keep going. “You know, honey,” he began, his voice as gentle and soothing as light rain tapping on a window. “It would probably be easier to get a lot more work done if you gave your mind the chance to rest. You don’t want to overwork yourself and fry those thoughts before they come to fruition.”

“And what would you know about that?” Isabelle snapped back. “It’s not like you work an actual job, anyway. I have deadlines, Daniel. People expect me to finish things by certain times, and I’m already behind as is. So please, lay off and let me handle it.”

By the time she reached the end of her little diatribe, she was nearly out of breath, huffing and puffing out of anger. Her cheeks were bright red, but they faded to a lighter shade of pink once she realized that her temper had gotten the better of her. Daniel just sat there, staring at her. There was no judgment in his eyes, not even pain. Isabelle struggled to read him, but as best she could tell, he was unbothered, though also very serious.

She knew she ought to apologize, and part of her even wanted to. It was the mature thing to do. Even if she had a point, she went about expressing that point in the absolute wrong way. At the same time, she could feel that another side of her, a more stubborn, petty side, had latched onto this little spat and decided it was unwilling to move an inch. While she sat there in her purgatory of mind, Daniel stood up from the table. She watched him close his laptop and wander over to where his coat was hung up next to the door.

“Daniel, wait…” She clambered out of her chair and onto her feet.

“Not another word.” Daniel’s tone was stern, but it held the same underlying gentleness as his earlier words. She knew he meant it. He did not want to hear another word escape from her lips, and as hard as that stubborn side of her tried to fight it, she managed to hold it back and keep her mouth shut. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. Instead, all she offered was a nod.

“I’ll be back soon. I won’t be long,” Daniel said before pulling on his coat and leaving through their apartment’s front door. On his way out, she heard the pitters and patters of his boots as he trailed down the stairs to the parking lot.

Minutes passed, and Isabelle had still not returned to her work. Her heart was nearly in her throat. She knew she had messed up, but she hoped it would not be as bad as it seemed. Daniel said he would not be long, and Isabelle would just have to trust that. He wouldn’t just leave her there, all alone, over one fight. If you could even call it a fight. It was more like a temper tantrum. She could hardly call herself a stressed out adult who had been snippy. It was more like she was a spiteful adolescent lashing out at a parent. It reminded her of her teenage years, and for that she felt deep shame.

When another few minutes had passed, and Isabelle still could not get her mind off of things, she forced herself to look back at her computer screen. Sitting there doing nothing would not help. At least if she got some work done, it would be a serviceable distraction until Daniel returned from wherever he had gone off to. He probably just went for a walk to clear his head, Isabelle thought. She hoped it was nothing more than that.

After around another thirty minutes, the familiar sound of Daniel’s boots trudging up the stairs to their apartment rang through the building, and Isabelle let out a sigh of relief she had been holding onto since the moment he left. When he returned through the door, Isabelle noticed something under his arm. Whatever it was, it was double-bagged in two white grocery bags, and she could not make out any signifying labels from beneath the coat of white.

“What’s that?” She asked, but Daniel did not answer.

“Come with me,” was all he said before making his way through the halls and into their bedroom. He had that same tone from earlier, the one that refused to be bargained with, so Isabelle did as she was told. She stood up from the table and followed him into their room, where Daniel was making the bed. He had opened their closet door and pulled out a black leather riding crop, which now sat beside him on the nightstand.

“No, absolutely not-” Isabelle said, but Daniel cut her off.

“You will not take that kind of tone with me. You know better than to speak to me that way, and you know better than to insult me.” He finished making the bed, ensuring it was nice and level for her to sprawl out on. “You also know that I was right about you needing a break. You would never have snapped at me like that if you weren’t so stressed. Now, be an obedient girl for me and lay flat on your stomach.”

Isabelle squirmed where she stood, clenching her legs together and trying not to show how obviously wiggly she was. Deep down, she loved when he got like this. She found him so… irresistible when he took charge. “I-I don’t think now is the t-time…” she trailed off, unable to finish her own thought. Her thoughts seemed to get lost somewhere along the way from her mind to her mouth, disappearing before she could bring them to life through her words.

Daniel simply ignored her. He wore that same unphased demeanor from earlier, and somehow, that made him seem even more threatening. With the crop and sheets all prepped and ready, he bent down and opened his mysterious package, revealing a large bag of disposable diapers, the kinds for little kids who still wet their beds.

“Absolutely not!” Isabelle declared. Her voice was forceful and unwavering. Yet when his eyes met hers, hers darted away. She could not hold his gaze.

“I’m not asking. Lay down on the bed, take your spanking, and then I’m going to put you into something more appropriate for the way you’ve been behaving.”

“I’m not… wearing that.” She folded her arms and gave her best pout.

Daniel turned to face her, not speaking for several seconds. Each subsequent second felt longer than the last, and with each one that passed, Isabelle felt her knees getting weaker, ready to give way. After a full minute of silent stillness, Daniel suddenly approached her. He got right up in her face, forcing her to stand at attention just to avoid him running into her.

Their faces were mere inches apart when he said, “I have seen your BDSMTest results. I know what you’re into. I know how you like to be treated.” He paused just long enough to let her mouth fall open, and for a breathless gasp to flee from her open lips. “You have a safe word. Use it. Or don’t use it, and lay down on the bed right this instant.”

Isabelle could not believe what she was hearing. Even less could she believe her legs started inching their way forward without her permission. Daniel was right. She had a safe word, but she did not utter it. Before she knew it, she was crawling onto the bed, sprawling out over it. Daniel came up from behind her and gave her a forceful push, slamming her stomach onto the bed as she let out a reluctant moan that refused to be held back. A familiar wetness dampened her inner thighs.

As she tried to compose herself, to gather her thoughts which seemed to float around aimlessly in the sea of her mind, there was a sharp sting against one of her butt cheeks, and then the other. The sound of the slaps came first, with the pain settling in whole seconds later. By the time she felt the pain from one, Daniel’s crop was already onto the next. She desperately clung to her physical presence, to keep herself grounded within the moment. She was an adult, a grown woman, someone who was self-sufficient and well adjusted. Except, she wasn’t any of those things.

With each strike of the crop, those illusions, those lies that she told herself, they disappeared bit by bit, until they had faded into nothing more than memories just out of reach. All that was left was herself. Her true self, the one she kept locked away where no one could see. In mere moments, Daniel had beaten it out of her. She could hardly even feel the pain anymore. Instead, it was as if she were floating in the middle of the ocean, with no land anywhere to be found. Or perhaps she was soaring through the air, diving between the clouds, with no rules or expectations hoisted upon her shoulders. She was free. In her bondage, in her submission to him, she was free.

When the spanking was finished, Isabelle’s bottom was bright red and sore. The earlier marks were even beginning to turn purple as her skin bruised. She just laid there, her mouth agape, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Daniel grabbed hold of her and pulled her into his embrace. “There, there, little one. It’s all over. I’ve got you now.” The sternness had left his voice. Now, there was just that same old gentleness, like the first autumn breeze of the year.

She sobbed into his shoulder, and all the while, he held her and cooed at her. He rocked her gently, careful not to exacerbate the pain coursing through her bruised bottom. Once she had settled down and centered herself right there in his presence, in his dominance, he laid her down on the bed. She went limp, ready to let him do whatever he pleased with her. However, Daniel did not take her as she thought he would. No, instead, he ripped open the package of Pull-Ups and slid one over her feet and up her legs. Isabelle’s hands shot up to her face to hide her humiliation, but the childish gesture only served to make her seem more helpless and infantile.

With little effort, Daniel hoisted Isabelle up and pulled the glorified diaper snug into place. She had to admit; it wasn’t so bad. The padding was soft against her princess parts, and the way the garment hugged her hips made her feel swaddled and protected. She was safe. Safe in her Pull-Ups and safe under Daniel’s thumb, right where she belonged. She needed it. She yearned for it.

Daniel wrapped her in his arms once more and laid her head on his chest. He rocked her gently, humming a soft little tune to soothe her. Isabelle closed her eyes and let herself relax, finally. For the first time in longer than she cared to remember, she was at peace. All her worries and concerns had drifted away, and despite her sore bottom and weakened pride, she could not help but smile.

“There’s my girl,” Daniel said. He aimed his own soft smile down at her, and as she looked into his eyes, she did not find disdain or malice there. Instead, she found only wordless comfort and reassurance. “I think someone was extra fussy today and needed an attitude adjustment.” She blushed even more furiously at that.

“D-Daniel…” Isabelle’s meek voice chirped out like a baby bird making its first call.

“Yes, my love?”

“I’m s-sorry… for what I said… and the way I said it.”

“I know you are, sweetie. I know you didn’t mean it. You were stressed, and you lashed out. Little girls do that from time to time.”

“N-no but… I’m serious. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

“Hush, little one. I know you’re sorry, and I know you’re being sincere. I’m telling you it’s alright, that you don’t have to apologize. You don’t have to do or be anything right now. You can just sit here in my arms, and you can just be my little girl, if that’s what you want.” He gave her the kindest smile anyone had ever given her, and in that moment, the last of her reservations gave way. “That is what you want, isn’t it, baby?” All she could do was nod.

That night, she drifted off to sleep in her boyfriend’s arms. Come the next day, she wouldn’t think of him as her boyfriend at all anymore. Instead, she would see him as her Daddy. And by the time she woke the next morning, she would find herself filled with a sense of undeniable bliss, and a new sensation altogether. One of thickness and absorbency between her legs. One that would go on to define the rest of her life to come, and the way her Daddy would look at her as his good little bedwetter.

THE END _

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[billthedrake]

FAMILY BUSINESS (PART TWO)

The Mazza men chalked it up to the new project that was having them work late, pretty much every night. Mazza and Sons had won the bid for a community center building and had been aggressive in the timeline they could offer. It was part of the son's Anthony's plan to get into higher-budget, higher-profit contract work.

But this was the third night in a row when the father and son looked at each other around 7PM, silently reading the other's expression, trying to feel each other out.

"Feel like Chinese take out, Dad? Or maybe pizza?" Tony asked, looking away from the email he was trying to work through. He did his Crossfit classes in the morning and liked to start the workday with a relatively clean slate, even if it meant putting in extra hours in the evening.

Frank's heart beat a little faster as he took in his son's handsome features. Some fathers were just super devoted to their sons, he reckoned, but with Frank, that love of Anthony took on a perverted spin. He low-key resented his hunky son for getting them started on this little game they were playing, and he loved the kid for it, too.

Maybe Frank would take the initiative tonight. "Why don't we get that other kind of take out first, Tone?" he said with a naughty grin.

That brought out a matching one in Tony. That Mazza smile. "Yeah? I could go for that for sure," he said, leaning back in his chair. He was dressed in professional-casual "contractor" attire of a gray polo and khakis, but even those showed off his muscular, youthful build. "Who ya thinking, Pop?"

Frank knew, but didn't want to seem too eager. It had been a month since Tony showed him the fun of the no-string blowjob from men on the app. In that time they'd shared that experience, generally with the same cocksucker, Ian. They tried out another one but it hadn't felt the same, in part because the Mazza men were nervous about being sussed out as father and son. Ian knew and not only didn't care, but actually encouraged the clear erotic tension between Frank and Tony.

"Ian," the father now said. "He's really fucking good at it."

Anthony smiled. He'd been hoping for that answer. "The best."

Tony messaged Ian. Frank had the guy's cell number and used it frequently on his own, to suck the guy off, but his son didn't know that.

"He'll be here in 15," Tony said proudly as he set down his phone. With a glint in his brown eyes, he looked over at his dad. "You've really gotten into this, Pop."

Frank blushed but gave a nonchalant shrug. "Leave it to my son to show me new tricks," he said. "Besides... I'm 44, not 84... I still got needs."

That made Tony smile. "I think you passed on that sex drive to me, Pop."

"Too much for Becky?" Frank asked. Before this would have been a sore subject, maybe.

His son nodded. "Too much for any chick," he replied.

"You'll find her, Anthony, you'll find the one. I know it."

"Thanks, Pop." He hissed. "Fuck, I'm boned."

This was a new openness too. The Mazzas had indulged guy talk before, sex talk. But now Tony was more open about his cock and his hardons.

His father looked over and tried to see without staring. He'd been thinking a lot of his son's dick. It was a forbidden thought, but the more he tried to suppress it the stronger the urge got. "Promise me something, Tone."

Anthony leaned back in his office chair. "Sure, Pop. What?"

That made Frank laugh a little. "I didn't even tell ya what."

Anthony flashed that killer smile. He certainly inherited a double share of the Mazza good looks. "Doesn't matter. You'd give me the shirt off your back. Figure I could do what you ask."

"Well, when you find your next girl, Tone... make sure she's gonna take care of you."

Antony grinned. "I take it you're talking about more than cooking and laundry."

"That, too," Frank said. "I know you want a traditional wife."

"Yep," the son said, his face getting more serious.

The father took that in. He felt like maybe he'd raised Tony with unrealistic expectations. His ex wife was a good mother, but maybe Tony put her on a pedestal. Frank didn't want to bad mouth her, but he wanted to make sure his son found a woman who'd be more supportive of him than Cathy had been.

Frank was gonna reply, but Tony's phone buzzed with a text. The grin on the son's face was adorable as he looked back up. "He's here. Fuck... I'm horny." He got up and walked over to the door to greet Ian.

Frank felt a flash of embarrassment when Ian walked in. The guy was good looking, not Anthony Mazza good looking. But Frank had hooked up with the gym-built man a few times on his own. He felt bad sneaking around like this, but maybe it wasn't Tony's business if his old man was enjoying his chance at sucking cock.

Ian for his part seemed to relish the naughty secret. Hooking up with both father and son. He had that impish smile now as he walked in ahead of Tony, who was shutting the office door behind them. "Hey Frank," he greeted.

"Hey," Frank said gruffly, more gruffly than he intended. But he was nervous.

Tony's eagerness put him at ease though. Already, he was walking in around Ian and pawing at his khakis. "OK if I go first Pop? I'm so fucking horny."

"Yeah," the dad replied. He hoped the croak in his throat wouldn't betray him. "I can..." he started.

Already Tony was unzipping and hauling out that thick Mazza dick. "You don't gotta. It's not gonna take me long today."

Goddamn, that cock was beautiful. His son's cock, so much like Frank's and yet thicker, more manly somehow. The masculine power of it just made his son's youthful cute handsomeness that more jarring. It was like Frank was fully reconciling two parts of his son's personality. All while he tried to figure out where to look without seeming like THAT much of a perv.

Ian had no hesitation about worshipping the younger Mazza dick. He crouched down and ran his hands up and down Tony's hairy, build thighs. The cocksucker's face was nuzzling against Anthony's balls a second before licking up the shaft.

"Aw yeah, bud... just fucking right," Anthony gasped before Ian took that thick boner into his talented mouth.

Frank could see the tension build and release. Tony wasn't cumming, not yet, but he was relaxing into the blowjob. Instinctively Frank knew how much his son had craved this. It was almost as hot to watch the facial reaction on Anthony's face as it was to see that hard cock being serviced.

His son's eyes lifted up from Ian to meet his Dad's. Not pervy, not ashamed, not accusatory. The gaze was just direct and honest. "He's an incredible cockscucker, right, Pop."

Frank nodded dumbly, which somehow made Tony's smile break out. Fuck, that smile.

With a leer, Anthony looked back down at Ian. "I'm getting close man... you ready, buddy?" he hissed. With a commanding gesture he put his hand on top of Ian's head, which just encouraged the cocksucker to really go for it. Ian's face turned redder as he doubled his efforts. Tony's dick was thick and not easy to take like that, Frank guessed.

Tony's face was getting redder itself as he reached orgasm. "FUCK!" he gasped. Frank had never been so excited in his life as now, watching Anthony cum. It was sexy and beautiful. He felt proud for his boy, and glad for him.

"Damn," Anthony finally hissed as he pulled back. That hardon was doubly attractive slickened with spit and leftover cum. He looked back up at Frank. "Your turn, Pop."

Ian was grinning. And Frank knew why. With Ian, when it was just the two of them, Frank was the cocksucker. But Ian wasn't gonna let on. He sat back on his haunches and watched the father step up and pull out his own erection. Not quite as impressive as Tony's dick, but closer.

It was only as Ian's started going down on him that Frank realized the gay dude was extra worked up to be doing father and son like this. Together, one after the other. That knowledge was hitting Frank, too, deeply. "Fuck!" he gasped, the mouth strokes just adding to the pervy thrill.

Tony meanwhile was acting normal. Or as normal as a dude could be sharing a cocksucker with his father. He'd tucked back in and had walked over to rehydrate with a big slug from a water bottle. His dad's outburst made him turn back around to the action.

"He gonna milk you off quick, too, Pop?" he laughed.

Frank nodded. Ian was great. Greater than great at this. But it was Tone's presence that was gonna get him to the finish line, fast. His hot stud of a son looking on, like they were two fraternity brothers gangbanging some chick together.

Frank Mazza's vision went blurry and white and a burst of wild pleasure jolted through is body. His Anthony was watching him cum. Surprisingly that was as incredible as witnessing his own son's orgasm.

Frank breathed heavy as Ian lapped up the dribbles, his own hand jerking wildly. Frank's paw reached down to creadle Ian's head. Not possessively like Anthony's grip, more encouraging. He had to thank this this gay dude for bringing him and his son together like this.

Ian was on cloud nine, even after he came and cleaned up. "It was a pleasure, fellas. Hit me up anytime," he said. Frank could see the perv had a major bucket list to add to his experiences, and now that the father was in his post-nut clarity he resented that a little.

Anthony was back to his normal bro mode, backslapping Ian as he showed him out. When he strutted back he pulled out his phone. "I may meet my buddies to watch the game, Pop," he said. "See ya tomorrow?"

Frank looked for reproach in his son's face. Or guilt or something. But it was just the look of a young man who'd gotten his rocks off and now was ready to hang out with his friends.

"Sure, Tone. See ya tomorrow."

***

It took two more joint BJ sesions before Frank got the courage. It was Thursday night, guy time at Frank's house, the unofficial start the weekend night for father and son.

Frank didn't have a big cooking repertoire, but he made a mean sunday Italian gravy. Tonight, he did a quicker meal of pasta and meatballs.

"Better than Ma's, Pop," Anthony exclaimed as he pushed his finished plate forward.

"Must have been hungry, Tone," Frank grinned, eating up the compliment.

"You bet. On a bulking cycle at the gym," the son exclaimed.

"You trying to get bigger son?" the father asked with some surprise. Anthony just seemed perfect to him already.

Anthony grinned. "You know how it is. The chicks like 'em big and strong."

Frank felt his crotch grow tight.

"What about you Pop? You're looking pretty fit these days."

Forget muscles, Frank thought, those puppy dog brown eyes and Mazza smile were gonna be what made a woman put out.

"Just do enough to keep it up, ya know," Frank replied. "Nothing like you, Tone."

"You do all right, Pop," Anthony grinned. "So... you getting out on the market again?"

Frank blushed. He didn't know how to be honest with Anthony, or with himself for that matter. "Nah, not yet," he replied. "Guess I'm not ready for that..." Frank blushed as he realized how fucking stupid he sounded. "I mean, sex is one thing Tone, but women my age, divorcees, they take some work."

Anthony smiled. "I get it Pop. After Mom, you don't want another princess."

Frank gave a shrug, in a wasn't-gonna-say it kind of way.

His son laughed. "At least Ian is a good consolation prize, right? He tells me you've been hitting him up a lot."

"Yeah?" Frank gulped. God if that guy told Tony that Frank sucked dick, well, Frank didn't know if he'd be more angry or mortified.

"You don't need to be embarrassed, Pop. I'm the one who urged you to try out guys. Didn't think you'd take to it like you have, but it's cool."

"Ian gonna spoil you, son?" Frank had to ask.

Anthony answered in a way that made it seemed like he'd been asking himself the same thing. "It's certainly nice to have someone very willing and able, ya know? Ian's not the only cocksucker I have in my contacts, but he's the best."

Frank's crotch was beyond tight. The man was full on boned. "You deserve to have your needs taken care of, son," Frank said. Then immediately regretted it.

Thankfully, his son didn't seem fazed, more amused. "Yeah? Well, you too, Pop." He got that telltale smirk. "I was gonna take a night off but what do you say we hit Ian up again?"

Frank nodded, not speaking in case he gave away how eager he was. He watched as Anthony pulled out his phone and sent a few texts.

He finally put it down. "It's wild you're so open minded, Pop," he said. "Kind of cool."

Damn, that Mazza smile was gonna get Frank in trouble. At least they add Ian as the focus and excuse for Frank's pervy state.

Frank actually felt bad at how much they were taking Ian for granted, but when he showed up at the house, he had a very eager grin. Frank was the one to answer the door, and something about the gay dude's excited smile made the 44-year old more relaxed. "Good to see ya, bud," he said patting Ian on the shoulder as he showed him in.

"Man," Ian replied in a whisper. "I'm not gonna turn down a chance with you guys. Ever."

Frank gulped. But he was getting turned on by the incestuous tension of the scenario. He'd given Tony his space once, then the next time he'd watched against as Ian sucked his stud of a son off. "Yeah."

Ian leaned in. "You should go for it today," he said.

Frank knew what he meant. "I dunno."

"I'll set it up. I'll be fucking hot."

Ian maybe meant hot to watch but it would be hot to do. He just didn't want to cross that line. Or he did, and didn't know how the fuck he could do it. This was his Tone they were talking about.

"Hey bud," Anthony greeted as they walked into the living area. "Dad and I were having a beer... can I get you one, or you want to get right to business?" he laughed. God, it was crazy how easygoing Anthony could be about sex.

"A beer sounds good, thanks," Ian said, a twinkle in his eyes.

Frank was surprised, but he watched as as Ian sat next to Frank on the sofa. "This is gonna work, trust me," Ian said.

Frank wasn't so sure. But it was almost like normal, sitting and having a beer with his son and their mutual cocksucker. Frank felt a little bad he didn't know shit about Ian, not really. But Tony kept up a lot of the conversation. Hell, they were talking about the Yankees season for christsake.

Finally Anthony gripped his crotch and stood up. He was still wearing his polo and khakis from the work day but somehow with his youth he made the unofficial uniform seem like it was made to show off his body. "All right, I'm pretty horny," the 24-year-old said with a goody grin. "You ready to take care of me, buddy?" he asked Ian as the young stud walked over to the couch and began undoing his belt.

Frank gulped. He was sitting right there with a front row seat. Watching just two feet away as the gay dude helped his own son pulled out that big thick dong. Ian ran his fingers up that hard length, watching it get harder. And watching Frank see his own son's erection in process.

"Nice," Ian hissed then leaned forward to start sucking Anthony's cock.

It was just beautiful, Frank thought. Ian was very skilled and now very comfortable with Tone's big meat. But his Anthony was what made him horny beyond belief. Seeing his son in full sexual hardness, being taken care of, a total stud. He looked up at Tony's face and expected awkwardness. But his son was mostly looking down, watching Ian work toward some deep throat action, before he turned to look at his dad.

"You got the best seat in the house, Pop," he chuckled. But there was something behind the joke, behind the playful grin.

Frank felt it. Maybe that's what gave him the courage once Ian pulled off, lapping at the tip teasingly. That Mazza dong was veiny and spit-wet.

"Wanna closer view?" Ian asked quietly. For Frank's benefit, though of course Tony could hear it too.

Frank's face burned hot. He didn't have the courage to look back up at Tone, he just kept his eyes focused on his son's throbbing cock and scooted in.

Ian's eyes were on Frank now, in a challenging way, as he opened up and swallowed Anthony again. All the way down, slowly, then all the way off. Then again. Showing off for Frank. "Your son has an amazing cock."

"Yeah, he does," Frank admitted. It was wrong and pervy to say, but it was the truth. Quickly, his eyes darted up to meet Anthony's. But instead of disapproval he saw a simmering, quiet lust in those puppy dog brown eyes.

"It's OK, Pop," came Tone's words, soft and deep. "If you want."

Frank thought judgment day would come and that hell would open up beneath him. It didn't though. Not even as he leaned in and pressed his nose against Anthony's prick.

"Fuck," Ian gasped quietly, his hand holding the base of Anthony's meat still but otherwise pulling back to watch.

The first contact of Frank's tongue to his son's dick gave his whole body and electical jolt. Then again. And again. Frank started lapping Anthony's thick prick and working his way up. His son wasn't stopping him.

When he opened his mouth and felt that Mazza cock press in between his lips, the father was in heaven. He was so glad he'd practiced on Ian and even now was doing his best to copy the cocksucker's technique. Lots of spit, then some suction, up and down, not too hard, undulating a little. Milking his own son's prick with his warm wet mouth.

"Good god, Pop...." Tony hissed. "You're fucking good at this."

Ian was now kissing along Tony's balls while Frank blew him. Then licking along Frank's neck and ear. The guy was thrilled to be witness to an honest to god incest blowjob.

Particularly as Anthony got close. "Just a little more, Pop... a little slower actually... yeah, that's it... fuck, that's gonna get me right there... right fucking there... aw yeah... you ready to make me cum, Dad... gonna suck my cum out... fuck yeah... here it comes, Pop. Oh fuck oh fuck oh FUUUCKK!"

Frank prepared for the worst, but it turned out to be the best. The sensation of having his mouth and gullet flooded with his son's cum, that Mazza seed, briny and thick, a million of his grandkids being force fed to him as Tony got a little wild with some mid-ejaculation thrusts that knocked his cock head an extra inch down Frank Mazza's throat. Frank coughed a little but adjusted just as suddenly.

Ian couldn't take any more. He stood up. Frank had no idea when the guy had pulled out his own dick. Anthony didn't know either for that matter. The 30-something dude flogged wildly to get to the finish line, aiming his prick toward the constractor's face.

The first shot his Frank's cheek just as he was finally pulling off Tony's dick. The second one caught him in the eye as he turned toward Ian. Instinct took over and Frank latched his mouth on that spurting dick, catching at least half of Ian's load.

Frank regretted it. It was hot and all but he wished nothing was pushing the taste of Tone's cum off his tongue now. Still, he swallowed then leaned back, embarrassed.

"Whoa," Anthony said, sighing as he tucked back in. "That was fucking hot."

"Yeah," Frank admitted. He was rock hard in his jeans but the emotional side of what had just happened was hitting him hard and fast. "It was."

His son actually gave his dad a sly wink and looked at Ian cautiously before turning back to Frank. "I actually should get going, Pop. Got an early workout tomorrow."

"Yeah," Frank said, trying to act nonchalant. He wished he could be like Tone. Get his rocks off and split. He stood up.

"You don't gotta walk me out, Pop, I know the way," Anthony said with a laugh. "Besides I think Ian needs to take care of you, right?"

Ian smirked. He knew or least thought he picked up on Anthony's drift. The Mazza kid was a little freaked out his dad was a cocksucker too. Still, Ian wasn't going to pass up the chance for the dad's load. "Sure," he said.

Frank and Ian had barely heard the front door close when Ian was in servicing position for Frank Mazza, pulling out that dad cock and bobbing up and down. It took ten whole seconds to get Frank to cum, hard.

"Thank you," Frank said as he helped Ian to his feet.

"I like sucking you man, you've got a nice dick," Ian replied.

"No, I mean about earlier," Frank clarified.

Ian gave a smile. "Dude, that was a total bucket list thing... dont' worry, I'm not gonna tell a soul. But that was incredible."

The man's assurance helped calm Frank's apprehension. Somewhat. He showed Ian to the door and said he'd reach out again sometime.

****

Anthony either skipped his workout or finished early. Frank had just finished his breakfast when the doorbell rang.

"Tone," he said when he opened the door. His son was already dressed for work, hair freshly showered and gelled.

"Pop. Ok if I come in?"

Frank nodded. He'd barely slept the last night. Thinking over everything. Worrying about everything. "Yeah, come in," he said.

He sat down and expected Tony to, but instead his son stood and said simply. "I don't want you sucking Ian's dick from now on, Pop. His or anyone else's."

Frank blushed deep red and nodded. "I'm sorry Tone, I...."

Anthony cut him short. "Don't apologize, Dad. I'm just telling you how it is, OK?"

Frank didn't quite follow but he just looked up at his son, feeling more emotionally vulnerable than he'd ever felt. God if he fucked him the relationship had with his Tone, he'd never deal with that.

Time seemed to stop as Anthony undid his khakis and unzipped. "I want you only taking care of me, Pop."

Frank gulped. That big Mazza dong plopped out. Not fully hard but getting there.

"Got it?" Tony asked. With authority but a lot of love.

Frank looked up, misty eyed. Turned on. Something clicked for the middle aged divorced father. This felt right. "Got it, son."

With that, he leaned in and started going down on his Tony.

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity)Chapter Four: The Honeypot

Chapter Four: The Honeypot

warnings: fluff, oral sex(fem and male receiving), general cuteness, mentions of porn, mentions of male masturbation pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: it's been a while since you and Kento hung out, and you as him to dinner one night. he reminds you of the thing he promised he would do the next time you two were to hang out.

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @seireiteihellbutterfly @kenpachisbrat

@marikuchanxo @harlekin6 @gennaray

@markleeisdabestdrug @entirelysein-e. @sugurusprettygirl

MDNI and support banners by @/benkeibear

Masterlist

A couple of weeks have gone by since the last time you and Kento have hung out. You two keep in contact in class and through texting. Lately your conversations have been a lot more flirty than usual. Safe to say that the two of you see each other more than just friends who have fooled around a bit.

Your heart races every time you see him. His knees feel weak whenever you laugh at his jokes. The two of you are becoming quite smitten for one another. It was becoming harder and harder to deny the attraction that was building there.

The more you two spent time together, the more you found yourselves making up something to ensure you'll have more time together. Even in class, you two partner up for every project. You find yourself wondering when you’ll finally go on that date you two spoke of the last time you were intimate together.

And Kento finds himself too nervous to bring it up again. He thinks it was some sort of pipe dream that will never come to fruition. Still, he holds onto hope that maybe you’ll ask him out one day.

That day does come. It’s a Friday and classes are about to be let out for the day. You’re giddy to spend some time not studying and not worrying about any upcoming tests. It’s just going to be you, your couch and a bunch of junk food. But that’s when you spot Kento on your way towards the dorms. You then realize it’s the perfect time to ask him out on that date.

He sits by the vending machines. You sit next to him, noticing the adorable half-smile on his face. He looks at you and his smile spreads across his face.

“Hey are you busy tonight?” you ask him.

He shakes his head. “Nothing planned for this evening. Why?”

“Would you like to go get dinner together? I think we did talk about this the last time we hung out.”

His cheeks and tops of his ears go pink. “S-sure! Yeah, that sounds good.”

You two make plans to meet at the front entrance in about an hour. Kento mentions a cute noodle shop that opened up near campus a few months ago that he’s been dying to try. And with your plans made, you part ways.

Your heart is fluttering in your chest as you walk back to your dorm room. Kento spends a long time debating what he’s going to wear. You take a quick shower and spend time doing a little makeup.

Finally it's time to meet up. You walk towards the front entrance of the university. Your heart is racing as you try to calm yourself. You find Kento in the entryway, doing the same. He’s trying so desperately to take deep breaths and he’s pacing the floor. You smirk as you walk over to him.

“Hey cutie,” you call out. He whips around to face you. 

“H-hey! Ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

You look stunning. He doesn’t quite understand why you want to spend time with him like this. He doesn’t find himself to be anything special. The coolest thing about him happens to be the one thing he has to hide from you. If you found out that he was a Jujutsu Sorcerer, he’s sure you’d probably shun him and never speak to him again.

“Earth to Kento!” You wave your hand in his face, breaking him from the spell of being zoned out.

He chuckles softly, “S-sorry! Let’s go.”

He takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. It feels natural but there’s a nervous feeling with each action you two do that makes you feel like a real couple. 

The conversation starts off small. Just little tidbits about class and the homework. He guides you towards the noodle shop. He’s excited to spend this evening with you. The bigger prospect of it all is if he can finally return the favor.

Since the last time you went down on him, Kento has been watching lots of videos on how to go down on a girl. He’s been jerking off to videos of girls getting their pussies licked, wishing he could be the one doing it to you. Even just thinking about it, he has to push all these dirty thoughts away,

You two arrive at the shop, and he finds you both a cute booth in the back. A waitress arrives to take some drink orders and then gives you a few moments to peruse their menu. Kento looks over at you from across the table and the minute your eyes lock, you notice just how much he’s smitten about you. You feel the same way about him.

The waitress returns with your drinks, and you take Kento’s recommendation on some yakisoba noodles with pork cutlets. He orders the same for himself. The two of you wait in anticipation for the delicious food that’s about to be served.

“It smells so good in here,” you comment.

Kento nods. “Yeah, I knew I really wanted to come try it. One of my friends recommended this place.”

Something about this comment makes you feel jealous. You know you shouldn’t be jealous of someone you don’t know, but this is a friend that Kento has never mentioned to you. And though you two aren’t that close, you two have become closer than before. Close enough to call you good friends. Good friends who like to fool around and give each other oral sex.

You manage to change the subject to something else. The topic turns to anime, homework and music. You and Kento have an easy time talking about the things you love. It never really occurs to you that you two enjoy infodumping on one another. It’s sweet in its own way.

The food is delicious. The sauce in the noodles is spicy and the pork cutlets are tender and juicy. Kento orders some dessert afterwards to go. He’s excited to maybe be able to wrap this up nicely back at your place.

Once the bill has been taken care of thanks to your gentleman of a date, he asks if you’d like to split the dessert back at your place. You agree happily, almost oblivious to what he promised you the last time he was over at your place.

The walk back is filled with jokes, laughter and soft flirting. Kento has you in tears from laughing so hard agt his silly jokes. Despite his usual stoic and sullen manner, he is quite funny when he comes out of his shell.

“You know,” he chuckles. “With the way this evening has gone, one might think we’re dating now.”

Your cheeks redden, “Who’s to say we aren’t?”

You tug him closer to you, kissing him softly. He smiles and the butterflies erupt in his tummy. He finally gains a little courage and he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“When we get back to your place, I’d like to return the favor from last time.”

Your knees buckle a little at the husky tone of his voice. You look into his eyes and see how they’ve darkened. You nod your head, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the dorms.

Kento doesn’t remember the last time he was this excited for something. He knows he’s prepared well, but nothing can fully prepare him for what’s to come. He wants to make sure you are so comfortable and happy.

Once inside your dorm, Kento doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. He leads you to the couch, pushing you back gently. His hands are gentle but eager as he pushes up your skirt. His eyes widen a little when he notices the cute little wet patch on your panties.

With the dessert long forgotten, Kento reaches up to hook two fingers into the waistband of your panties. You’re trying not to pant too much, but you don’t even remember the last time a guy went down on you.

“I…I obviously have never done this before.” Kento confesses, though he knows you won’t judge him. “So please, guide me. Tell me what feels good and what I’m doing wrong.”

You look down at him and nod your head, promising to guide him to the best of your capabilities. He pulls down your underwear, and he gets a small whiff of your scent. A low moan rumbles from his chest before he spreads your thighs. Without thinking too much, he pockets your panties.

He’s analyzing you for a moment. You squirm under his gaze before he leans in. His lips are soft as he presses kisses to your inner thighs. Kento slowly makes his way towards your pussy. He’s watched the videos. He’s studied them closely. Now he can do his best, just for you.

What catches him off guard is how good you taste the minute his tongue presses against your folds. You taste musky and tangy, but there’s a sweetness hidden there. He grunts as the flavor takes over anything else. His cock hardens quickly before he can do anything else.

You reach down to gently play with his hair. You’re ready to give advice. Much to your surprise, Kento seems very proficient in what he’s doing. He laps at you slowly, softly. He avoids the clit for a bit, preferring to circle around it to tease you.

“Kento,” you whine. “D-don’t tease me.”

But he’s determined to make you feel so good. He wants you to come undone so beautifully just for him. His eyes snap up to watch you, making sure you’re still doing alright. That’s when he wraps his lips around your swollen nub, and you let out the cutest little whine.

Grunting softly, Kento suckles on your clit with a pressure you never even knew could exist for this activity. He flicks his tongue over the bud in his mouth, noticing what patterns you enjoy the most. Your thighs are already shaking, and his cock is throbbing painfully in his skinny jeans.

Your fingers tug on his hair a little, and he smirks when he feels you grinding against his tongue. He lets go of your clit; he takes a few long, languid licks through your folds before dipping down to taste you straight from the source.

This is what sets Kento off. Your tangy nectar is like an aphrodisiac to him. It’s making his brain all fuzzy with lust. His tongue plunges into you; moans are rumbling from his chest. He’s growing even more aroused than he thought he would from the simple act of tasting you and making you feel good.

His thumb comes up to begin rubbing your clit slowly. He remembers what he saw in all those videos. And then he begins to feel your thighs clenching around him, and this makes him even more excited. His eyes snap up to watch you come undone on his tongue.

“Kento,” you moan loudly. “I’m really close.”

He doesn’t even need to hear more. His tongue laps up to your clit where he pulls it between his lips and sucks on it like before. His fingers come down to your hole and he pushes one of them into you. Your eyes roll back as the pleasure just keeps building.

The room is filled with your breathy moans, the wet sounds of him sucking on your clit and the squelching of your wet pussy. It takes just a few more pumps of his fingers and a stroke of his tongue for you to fall off the edge with a loud cry of his name.

He doesn’t stop; instead he focuses on pulling the most pleasure from you. His mind is so dizzy, his eyes heavy with lust as he continues to pleasure you. Kento then begins to lap at your hole once he pulls his fingers from it. You’re dribbling pure honey to him. 

Your thighs are shaking and you shudder as you’re trying to come down from the best orgasm you’ve ever had. You reach down to push him away gently and he whines at the loss of contact. He looks up at you with a feral look in his eyes, wiping away the juices from his lips. You notice just how hard he is.

This is when you maneuver him to lay back on the couch, and you unbuckle his belt. Kento’s eyes widen when you pull his cock out and wrap your lips around him.

“Just relax,” you say in a husky tone. “Let me show you just how much I appreciated every moment of that.”

[rottindecay]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄(𝐒)!

Characters: Gojo, Nanami, Itadori, Megumi ♡

🪦 . . 𝐙𖤐𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐄 ’s 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 (1): im so into JJK rn holy fuck.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎⊹₊ ⋆

🪦 . . I feel like we all can agree that Gojos’ love language would totally be GIFT GIVING.

⭑ When he’s out and about and walking by stores, he would peak through those big windows these shops have at the front of their establishment to try to lure potential buyers in, Gojo would lay his eyes on something that reminds him of you. Something you wanted or needed. Or seeing you looking at a certain item in a store for a little longer than all the other items in the building.

He would smile to himself, Imagining you looking inside the bag and seeing what new thing he has gotten you, to spoil you rotten.

He dosent give a shit about the money, he has enough of that. But he will never, i mean never, get enough of seeing your face once you open his new present to you.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈⊹₊ ⋆

🪦 . . When it comes to Nanami, i feel like his love language would be ACTS OF SERVICES.

⭑ Just Imagine, youre already stressed out of your mind from all the projects you have to do for work, the cleaning, or something along those lines. Point is, you are stressed.

Nanami would notice this and his heart would sadden, seeing you all worked up. So gradually he would snoop around and find your planner and notice how full it was of stuff you needed to do. An idea would come to his mind, what if he did some of these things? You know, just to make your life a little easier.

You were at work, doing whatever you needed to do over there as Nanami stayed home. You thought he would teach more students at Jujutsu High like what he normally does. But he had other plans. When you walked back in to your shared house, smiling fondly to yourself as you saw all the rooms cleaned up. You were going to thank him later, right now you have to focus on all the other stuff you need to do. After a bit of searching you finally found you planner on your desk like where it always is. Once you opened it you saw all the stuff you needed to do was crossed out with a bright red line.

Once Nanami came home you questioned him about it and he nonchalantly told you that he finished it for you because he saw how stressed you were and thought you needed some help.

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈⊹₊ ⋆

🪦 . . i definitely see his love language being QUALITY TIME.

⭑ you guys could be doing anything, and he would still cherish the time he’s spending with you. It could be shopping, watching movies, trying cook meals together..

As i said, anything.

Anytime Itadori finds a place that seems like you two would enjoy going together, say the carnival for example. He would go to text you, sounding excited to see if you would go with him. Once you say yes Itadori immediately gets ecstatic that you agreed we to go with him!

Once you two arrive you guys go on various rides, eating some of the food they had over there and even playing those stupid rigged games they have at the carnival and Itadori is enjoying every single second he’s spending with you.

..okay maybe not when he lost to those carnival games because then you would have to console him saying that he did a great job, it’s the games that are rigged

But other than that, he absolutely loves to spend every minute of his day with you!

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈⊹₊ ⋆

🪦 . . I have a gut feeling his love language would totally be PHYSICAL TOUCH.

⭑ No matter where you guys are, he absolutely loves to hold your hand anywhere you guys go. Same with having his pinky finger interlocked with yours, or his arm snaked around you waist. He just wants to be touching you.

But when you guys are alone, one of the main things he’s obsessed with is cuddling you.

Let’s say you’re laying down comfy as ever on your bed once you see Megumi walk in through the door. He looks tired, you could visibly see the eye bags under his eyes. You greeted him softly, a smile on your lips but he didn’t respond. He just continued to drag his feet, making his way to you before crawling onto the bed and immediately spooning you. You let out a small giggle before wrapping your arms around him, asking him if he was tired which he only groaned to before pulling you as close as he could to his chest with his chin placed on top of your head. And with that, Megumi is out like a light, sleeping soundly with him cuddling you.

[suugarbabe]

okokokok lorenzo berkshire idea??? your writing is so so good you def do him justice 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼☺️

enzo really likes you and all his friends know (maybe reader is in another house .. personally i’m hufflepuff but it really could be any) and they all flirt w you bc his friends know it gets to him and while reader is polite they don’t really encourage(??) the boys’ jokes/flirting bc they only have eyes for enzo too

possibly ending up together !!

i’m turning into such an enzo girly fr 😭💕💕💕 ilhsm

ugh, i have fallen in love with enzo so much, my little lanky broad boy 🥺 also, my requests are closed right now but I wrote it anyway because it was the last thing in my ask before i can get started on my other projects so no worries love x

You weren't really sure what happened, what changed and started making people act differently toward you, but it seemed like for the past two weeks a certain group of boys were paying you more attention.

So here you sat at lunch, deep in conversation with Luna when she suddenly cut you off, "You're being approached again." Her soft tone made it seem nonchalant, but when Mattheo Riddle sat down on the bench next to you the redness in your cheeks was apparent.

"Good morning, Princess. You look absolutely gorgeous this morning," Mattheo grabbed a piece of toast from the pile in front of him before picking up a knife to spread jam over it.

"Thank you, Mattheo, that's very kind of you," You cheeks burned further when he placed the toast on your plate for you before placing a few sausages on it as well.

Mattheo smiled at you, "I know you've got a big test this morning, you should eat well. Though I know you're brilliant so you don't really need any extra help."

You smiled shyly as you took a bite of toast. "Can I walk you to class, beautiful?" You nodded, not seeing a reason to tell him no. He was a gentleman, carrying your books for you, telling you to have a good class before seeing you off through the doorway.

During lunch you were approached again, however by a different member of the same friend group. Theo Nott approached you on your way to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Ciao, bella," Theo's eyes were definitely captivating. A light sea blue that often spoke all of the emotion he never let his face really tell.

"Hello, Theo," you smiled lightly as the tall boy slowed to your pace. "Could I sit with you at lunch?" His tone was gentle and sweet, so you nodded, giving him permission.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you two entered the hall. If you were more aware of your surroundings, you'd notice Theo chance a side glance toward his own house's table. However you were too in shock that a second boy, a second handsome boy, was not only paying you mind but also eating another meal with you.

Theo was a lot funnier than you expected, making you truly belly, head thrown back laugh. You were surprised that you got along with him, but your humor seemed to be so similar and building off each other.

He asked if he could walk you to your afternoon classes and you accepted. He kept his arms around your shoulders again, continuing to make you laugh the whole way.

After classes were finished and dinner was over with, you and Luna went to the library. You tried your hardest to focus but you couldn't take your mind off of everything the happened earlier today.

"Luna," you called your friends name causing her to look at you, "did you think today was weird?"

Luna smiled happily, "Every day is weird if you look hard enough." You huffed out a sigh, "No, Lunes, I mean, wasn't it weird how nice Mattheo and Theo were to me today. Like, why today? They see me all the time. What's different now. I didn't do my hair differently, what did I do to make them so nice to me?"

Luna sat for a moment, seemingly thinking about her answer, "Are you asking because you think they should be mean to you, or because you wished it was another one of their friends being so nice to you?"

You felt your face pinken for the umpteenth time that day, "Who do you mean? I don't know what you mean..." You knew you sounded unconvincing, but you didn't think you had made it that obvious.

"Lorenzo is actually sitting over there if you want to talk to him," Luna's statement gave you the answer you needed, and also made your stomach fill with butterflies.

But after today, you couldn't hold back any longer. When you got up you saw Enzo a few tables away, his back facing you. You left your belongings at the table with Luna, walking quickly but quietly to where the real boy of your desires resided.

You pulled out the chair across from Enzo, causing him to jump slightly at the sudden movement. When you sat your started immediately speaking, barely giving him time to even register that the girl of his year long affection was finally in front of him.

"Why didn't you come up to me today?" Your question kind of stunned him, Enzo continuing to look at you with a dumbfounded expression.

You let out an exasperated sigh, "Why were two of your closest friends so nice to me today, why did they make me breakfast and walk me to class and put their arms around me?"

The more you spoke of his friends doing, the tighter Enzo's grip was on his quill, tighter and tighter until it finally snapped in his grasp. You let out a small gasp.

"I-I'm sorry. They were doing it to upset me. T-to make me, man up, as they put it," Enzo was playing with the two pieces of his quill, doing anything and everything but looking at you.

You reached across the table, doing your best to cover both his large hands with one of your smaller ones to stop the action. Enzo looked up, meeting your gaze, "Why were they trying to upset you, Enzo?"

Still looking you in the eyes, Enzo took a deep breath, "Well, because I, erm, I fancy you, Y/n. Have for some time. But you're just...Merlin, you're so pretty and whenever I get near you I forget how to speak properly and I lose my train of thought."

You looked at him with a goofy grin, "You think I'm pretty? You...fancy me?"

Enzo mirrored your smile, "Well, yeah. How could I not?" He laced his fingers with yours now.

"Well, then I guess their juvenile plan worked," you traced the top of Enzo's hand with your thumb. When he tilted his head in slight confusion, you gave him a further explanation, "I fancy you too, silly."

Enzo's face made a small 'o' before a huge grin broke over his face, "Do you think that, erm, may then, ehm, you would like to go to Hogsmead with me this weekend?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "I would love to."

"Great, wonderful, fantastic. Okay well, erm, I'm going to, just, go tell the guys if that's okay?" He stood abruptly, making his chair squeak slightly and a few other students look your way.

He was much taller than you now, him standing and you sitting. You had to crane your neck to look up at him properly but you smiled, nodding your head to tell him it was okay to tell his friends.

"Okay, well I guess I'll see you tomorrow? Breakfast together?" he asked, you nodded again, then Enzo did something neither of you expected him to do. He leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You knew your face turned red instantly, Enzo's turning a similar shade. As he walked out of the library, you made your way back to your friend.

"So are you and Enzo accompanying Blaise and I these weekend?" Luna asked without looking up from her studies.

"Yeah, yeah we are," you smiled to yourself, still unable to get your work done, but now for a perfectly acceptable reason.