#forbidden city things

[im-too-emotionally-involved]

Kotlc things

Keefe LOVES musicals. No one knows where he's finding them or how he discovered them in the first place. Hamilton is his favorite.

Stina ships Sophitz.

Biana writes y/n fanfics.

Fitz cries when the sad dog ads come on.

Marella stole Sophie's iPod once and now is secretly obsessed with human music.

Jensi reads Biana's y/n fanfics.

Dex really likes strawberry lemonade.

[the-way-astray]

whenever i see anti alden sentiment i never see this scene brought up, which is one of the only scenes where alden is a true piece of shit. sophie has trauma attached to drugs which he well knows and yet. he pulls this shit. you're making it mighty hard to defend you right now sir

[unaside]

WTF?????? WTF????? NOBODY EVEN BATTED AN EYE??? HE WAS SIX???? GOING TO THE FORBIDDEN CITIES???? BY HIMSELF?????

[robo-dino-puppy]

return to meridian

[bookwyrminspiration]

very confused by whatever happened to me yesterday unraveled was announced and i am suddenly not a hater anymore

[thegreatyin]

tbh i think at least half of the scoundrel's motivation for doing the deeper discordance storyline is just. a really bad really painful distraction from everything else currently going wrong in their life. which. admittedly. that's their motivation for most things

[megaclubdiolis]

柄本 佑 || 「光る君へ」 (2024) · 第十五回 「おごれる者たち」 ​​​

[synonymroll648]

👀

Before Keefe goes down a rabbit hole of debating whether or not that’s an upgrade or downgrade from his girlfriend’s (girlfriend’s!) usual, he glances down at the ground, and wow, okay. Depth perception hates him as much as the rest of the world. Including his retinas. Awesome.

[axperjan]

okay... this takes place immediately after this interrogation while Maksim calls Ilya to warn them, but obviously they're very good at following instructions and wouldn't spiral into a plan of their own completely unprompted

~5.1k, maybe... only a very light warning for some passing surgery references

—

For once they’re pretty sure the eyes boring into their back aren’t imagined, Ilya taking their time to study their commlink and try to intuit the direction of the observer before scoping them out. When they look up they don’t have to adjust their gaze a lot to find them: human, dressed in expensively bland clothes and a cocktail glass in hand, squinting at Ilya with a look that either spells confusion or disdain. They jolt when they realize they’re being glared at in return and Ilya takes some satisfaction in their eyes ensuring the human notices even in the dim light, and then they scurry off.

Normally Ilya doesn’t make a habit of coming here alone, Maksim usually having, or being, an excuse to bring them to ritzy places like the Outpost… and right now that’s the problem. They haven’t had any contact from him in… two? Three days? It could be that they can’t help letting the paranoia seep in now that they know about Alabast, that he’s just busy or hasn’t felt the need to talk after diffusing the tension their unexpected visit caused. If that were the case maybe it would be easier to feel a bit slighted, but Violet noted his absence as well the last time ey contacted Ilya, and that’s enough to make it feel reasonable to check on him… if they knew where to look.

So far it has only amounted to waiting, they’ve scanned the crowd several times and despite any arrivals and departures it doesn’t seem likely he’ll be here tonight at all. It’s making them wonder if they should check somewhere else… even though it would prolong the stifling discomfort these bored socialites inflict on them, there’s no guarantee he’ll answer another call-

Only seconds after Ilya checks their commlink again an instantly familiar number flashes across the screen, half relief and half frustration welling up in them but they only get halfway through their greeting before Maksim speaks. “Hey where the fuck have you been, Violet’s-”

“Ilya-” His voice, whatever complaint they had fizzles out at the exhaustion clear in his tone, and when he continues it sounds like he must be injured. “Where are you right now?” 

Ilya frowns to themself while casting a look around them, unsure what to answer and if they should at all… their location seems trivial compared to whatever situation Maksim might be in. “I-”

Again Ilya’s answer is cut short. “Wait don’t answer that. I…” a momentary silence, they can hear some shuffling as if he moved away from his commlink, or it got knocked against something before his voice slightly crackles through the speaker. “I don’t know if this line is secure anymore.”

The words send a chill down their spine, but they try to suppress it and the myriad of thoughts bubbling up for their most pressing and simple concern. “Are you okay?”

Maksim makes a sound that they know could’ve been a laugh at another time, but it’s closer to a ragged cough. It makes them wince. “Послушай,” at that they turn into themself a little more, shielding the conversation from anyone that wants to listen in. “Где бы ты ни был, мне нужно чтобы ты ушел. Иди в безопасное место. Не говори мне ничего. Хорошо?”

Ilya bites their tongue despite how badly they want to ask why, if it has anything to do with Alabast’s people and whether he’s stuck somewhere or on the run. Instead they get up more abruptly than they meant to, trying not to turn their head as they scan the people in the lounge for anyone like the elf or his lackey from before and then they finally answer. “Да, я понимаю.”

Then the call unceremoniously ends, like a thread that slips through their hands.

After one last glare at their commlink they put it back in their pocket as well as shoving their hands in them, trying to keep their shoulders low and slouched to avoid looking too alert. Too noticeable. As far as they can tell no one in the room seems to be tailing them, allowing them to make it to the entrance swiftly. But once they’re outside they speed up their pace, fast enough to either outrun or lure out anyone that could be after them if they’re willing to go loud. They don’t have a route in mind yet, taking random turns down the alleys weaving away from the club to buy themself a minute and remember…

Another turn and Ilya realizes where they’ve ended up, close enough to where they hoped to go and they only have to make another turn around the building to find the fire escape attached to it. At some point the ladder must’ve gotten stuck half-extended, no one considering it worth fixing since the building itself hasn’t seen much use with this district’s funds going to higher class locations. But for them it makes a decent vantage point after they manage to jump onto the ladder relatively quietly, hoist themself up and make their way to the roof of the building. Up top they take a moment to listen for any climbing or clattering following them… nothing. At least nothing loud or close enough to make them feel like they set up a trap for themself.

Then they approach the edge of the roof looking down on the alley they followed, and that’s when they see one… no, two figures hurriedly entering the little street. From the way they’re investigating their dimly lit and bare surroundings Ilya suspects they took too much time keeping their distance, and missed where Ilya went once they got here. Придурки they think, letting out a snort they’re reasonably sure won’t draw any attention up. Still as they pull back to sit on the ledge, hunched over and reasonably out of sight, they don’t like the thoughts resurfacing and reforming themselves in their head.

Already they can’t shake the feeling that this has something to do with Alabast. It’s a fact that their people made it here, although it unnerves them to think they caught Maksim so fast it makes sense Ilya’s own encounter was more of a formality than necessary to find him. But it’s quickly followed by frustration at that being the extent of their speculation, neither of them even know the syndicate’s goal… 

Then Maksim’s words drift back as well, pulling Ilya away from wondering and towards what they should be doing next. Мне нужно чтобы ты ушел. Иди в безопасное место. They keep turning it over in their head, in the hope it’ll dredge up a suitable place and save them a search but beneath that… has he ever addressed them like that? As far as they can remember there was the pointed formality, the kind that’s more distant than polite yet they’d gotten familiar enough with it that maybe they assumed it was just part of his usual demeanor… not something that could change. Another time they might’ve teased him for such a slip but it just invites the awareness that they can’t, and the more it draws attention to itself the more something insists in their chest.

Getting somewhere safe won’t be enough. They can’t be certain they’ll get any word from him soon if he needs to lay low, but if they can settle down somewhere… they could try to reach out to him despite his warning. As safely as they can manage.

As Ilya’s thoughts define themselves more clearly their attention gets drawn back to the street behind them, the two figures now facing each other. They can’t make out the conversation from here, but still they lean in a little closer to catch the echos. 

“No idea… somewhere” drifts upwards within earshot, Ilya isn’t sure from which but one of the lackey’s posture is puffed up in a way they would call annoyed or uneasy. What follows is more muted, although what they can make out from their tone sounds frustrated as well.

After some more mumbling they make out something like “... tell you?” only for the conversation to get interrupted by the beeping of a commlink. The curse the other lets out is loud enough that Ilya can guess the shadow doesn’t appreciate what a giveaway it would’ve been if they were still tailing Ilya, making them smile to themself. But even when they lean in just a little more, praying neither of them looks up, they can’t catch anything from the call itself. For an irritated second Ilya wishes they could just crash their conversation and interrogate them… if only that didn’t seem the exact thing Maksim wouldn’t want them to do.

Once the call ends a more animated discussion seems to follow, and it’s quickly cut short by sudden movement that makes Ilya jolt back until it seems like neither of them noticed Ilya. Instead… are they leaving? They cast a few cursory looks around them, Ilya can’t tell if it feels hesitant or something else… but then the shadows do pick up a brisk pace. Ilya still pockets a bit of broken off brick from the wall they’re leaning on, in case they need to send some encouragement.

While the shadows move down another path then what led them here, Ilya briefly holding their breath as they pass the alley with the fire escape only for no looks to be exchanged, a location finally comes to mind; the first place they stayed at when they came to the city was a safehouse, and they even offered to fix its security protocols for the owner when they got irritated by how basic they were. Maybe that would let them call in a favor, even though it wouldn’t be necessary to secure a stay. They still wait another moment until the shadows are out of sight and they’re certain they can’t hear any footsteps close by. Then they carefully make their way to and down the fire escape again. Dropping down from the ladder they almost lose their balance and bite back a curse, but when they look around them a bit too panicked… there’s no one else to witness it. All they can do now is try and remember where to go, taking their commlink out of their pocket again.

It might’ve been faster to take a cab to Haight-Ashbury, but the nervous feeling in Ilya’s gut insisted it’s better for keeping an eye on anyone still tailing them, and it saves them someone who could remember them or where they’re going. The safehouse itself isn’t too far from an underpass, just enough you’d have as long as it takes someone to pass the other few buildings to notice someone’s approach from the inside. Ilya however knows the side you face from that angle is a defunct little front that doesn’t stand out to anyone if they don’t have any business here, and don’t notice the real bulk of the building.

They’re still a little surprised when the door opens on its own after they knock, despite remembering there’s a mechanism in place to do it remotely. Maybe the elusive caretaker recognized them and doesn’t want them lingering around the entrance too long at this hour.

Inside it’s the same as last time, nothing remarkable except that it feels like some lights have been replaced, maybe the cracks in the floor have been fixed… the hall feels a little more whole, if not just familiar.

Then Ilya hears another door open followed by a few taps of a cane. “You’re lucky,” is how the owner of the safehouse greets Ilya once he comes out of the room next to the door, a slightly stern but short orc they’re pretty sure must have several decades on them, “it’s quiet right now.” After giving them a quick once over and a nod, as if to confirm he recognizes them, he adds. “Why are you here?”

“I need another stay,” Ilya answers, and they look away to think about the rest of their words. “Probably not too long but… I don’t know yet.”

The owner looks at them long enough it makes them square their shoulders a little. Maybe they’re still on edge but a feeling creeps up on their shoulder to say mistake, until he continues with another slower nod, gesturing up. “Then you should settle down, it’s already late.”

Huh. The last time he wasn’t that talkative either, they weren’t even entirely sure if he was around that much or just quiet. But they still expected a bit more interrogating than this. “Just like that?”

The owner is already half turned back to the room when he looks at Ilya again with a raised brow. “You know the rules already, so yes.” To punctuate it he doesn’t spare another moment to wait for their response, leaving them to shrug and go upstairs.

Past the stairs and smaller hall on the upper level, Ilya can’t tell if the space feels a bit roomier than before or they’re just relieved to be in an easily surveyed space, ignoring everything else in the room after the door shuts with a soft click to sit down on the edge of the bed. As they let out a deep sigh they run their hands over their face and through their hair. Suddenly it feels like the full weight of their thoughts catches up with them, paranoia shifting and coiling in a way they haven’t felt in a while. Not since… not since they ran.

A shudder they can’t stop makes Ilya pitch forward, lacing their fingers together behind their head as they lean on their knees. They force the bristling dread down, no matter how familiar it feels and how much room it leaves for them to think up the worst, it’s not about them this time. And they’re not sure if that’s better or worse. Better because by now they know NeoNET would make a beeline for them, and they want to believe they have better chances at dealing with the syndicate than a corp. Worse because they don’t know what to expect, they’re not even sure how to start except that they don’t want to risk blind guesses. That’s where they went wrong at the clinic. They didn’t think, they didn’t consider how easy it would be to track them if they stopped at the wrong place. It’s why they felt the need to enter the city like this even after the distance they had put between them and Boston, with the certainty that standing still wouldn’t immediately betray their path again.

With a snap Ilya sits up straight when they feel their left leg twitch, tugging at why the clinic was a necessary risk even though they don’t want to remember. A nasty injury across their shin had been the excuse for that procedure, just like any other time the techs promised to do more than just heal and left out what a risk it would be if Ilya got hurt outside of their care.

They don’t want to remember, but the feeling insists under their skin.

At that point the procedures had gone so steadily the techs hadn’t considered if their body would acclimate to the meds and anesthesia, rendering them less effective as everything carried on as it should. Until one surgery they saw… a glimpse of bone… metal and kevlar… all reduced to disassembled parts, purpose and meat lifted from them with each cut. The doctors only noticed something was wrong when their heart rate spiked and wailed through the operating room. Then curses and arguments chased after it and turned everything into angry static as they went back under, distantly grateful for and terrified of the silence.

And again, everything carried on as it should. The only sign it happened was a footnote about increased dosages among their suite updates.

After a while once the spite had been eating away at Ilya long enough they wondered if someone put in a fortunate recommendation for the run. Someone bitter enough to force a corp association on them, like Maverick who they figured would’ve jumped at the chance to ruin their reputation after Ilya ruined hers. But over time it became clear that must’ve been their paranoia trying to dampen the cold and sharp truth that no one knew, and no one cared. A corp wasn’t about to let on what the run was really for. And there was nothing weirder about Ilya’s absence than about the idea that they simply skipped town.

Most of the time that’s how these incidents fade into obscurity, stragglers fall through the cracks once never to be seen again, except in rumors and on morbid threads. Ilya isn’t sure they would’ve made it out if the contract hadn’t come to a halt…

They ignore the urge to dig into the grooves of their mods, try to pry them apart as if they could take out the despair with them.

They can’t let that happen to Maksim, even if all they end up doing is checking on him they don’t want to lose him, not when…

They frown to themself for a moment and then sigh, rubbing their temples to mutter գրողը տանի to themself. Maybe they should’ve caught on sooner, the feeling in their chest bright and painfully easy to name. Daring them to acknowledge it. The intensity of it makes a sense of unease settle alongside it but… have they ever worried about someone this much? Never. Not willingly, not like this, just because they can’t bear the thought of letting go and not risking anything for him. But at the same time they can’t, they can’t pin it down now, not when it’s clinging to their ribs with nowhere else to go. If whatever they feel means anything they need to find out if he’s safe.

When Ilya gets up their limbs already feel sluggish, eager to rest and cool off. They only stand long enough to fish out their commlink and take off their jacket to fling it on a chair close by. But they don’t have it in them to lie down, only to rest their back against the headboard as they try to stare a hole into the wall and idly tap on their commlink.

It's only when Ilya jolts awake and their shoulders and limbs protest that they realize they've fallen asleep, the heavy discomfort rapidly spreading underneath their skin and trying to convince them to stop, don't move. It doesn't stop weighing them down immediately but they do reluctantly, slowly, try to sit up. Their limbs quiet down again when they lean on their knees instead, and now they can feel a lingering resentment underpinning the pain. Maybe it’s the aftertaste of the memories coming up for air, or maybe they should’ve tried to lie down after all.

With a deep breath they resolve not to think about that and instead focus their attention on their hands. Slowly flexing them, they can feel the wiring smooth itself out and their arms starting to warm up as well. They keep doing it until they manage to stand, although stretching still makes them wince.

It’s fine. It should be fine. When they look at their commlink they first see it could use a charge, second that it’s still early in the morning. They don’t know how much sleep they got, but it doesn’t matter if they can figure something out by tonight.

Their movements are still a bit stiff as they make their way downstairs, uncertain if the owner is in until they spot the thin strip of light cast through the door of his room. They take a moment to crack their neck before knocking and hearing a faint “intrați” in response.

The room itself is more of a study than a bedroom, although Ilya thinks the other door in the corner neatly separates it. More private than being surrounded by the screens and documents littering the space. Maybe safer. They spot the owner seated behind his desk, some folders and a datapad tucked away on one side of it and a teapot on the other.

Ilya doesn’t actually know his name so they just greet the owner with “hey” as they lean on the desk. Not that they ever asked, they probably shouldn’t when he might need his anonymity as much as Ilya does, and to his credit the most invasive questions he ever asked just had to do with the security measures. Truthfully they also don’t care so long he stays this lenient.

He simply looks up at them in acknowledgment, a brow raised instead of a question. “You mind if I take another look at the network?” Ilya continues, they doubt it’s necessary if he didn’t tamper with anything, but they need something else to focus on. Something easy and routine.

“I was hoping you would while you’re here,” he says as he reaches over to the datapad next to him and holds it out to them. But before he leans back into his seat he does fix them with a pointed stare. “Just don’t wander off with it.”

In response Ilya frowns and rolls their eyes, but they do make sure the datapad is within sight if he feels the need to check what they’re doing. And after they find the charger on a cabinet next to the desk and plug it into their commlink they turn back to the screen.

Once they’ve pulled up the security window they first go over the logs, no signs of any intrusions or bugs anything might’ve left behind. It doesn’t seem likely there’s anything of note here anyway, it would be counterproductive to keep official logs and you’d be better off planting bugs around the building if you wanted to spy on anyone. If you could even do that unnoticed. Then they check the servers and response time. The last time they were here it was pretty stable, on average there couldn't be more traffic than the owner's and whoever happens to stay here. You also can't get in anymore without his explicit permission thanks to Ilya. It should hold up while they're here…

In the middle of more irrelevant troubleshooting a feeling creeps up on them unbidden, an impulse to turn to Maksim and inflict a sentence full of techspeak on him. They know he wouldn't understand, and maybe catch on they're doing it on purpose. But all they can do is pinch the bridge of their nose instead and screw their eyes shut. The last thing they need is a reminder of the routines they've fallen into.

Still… it doesn't take long before Ilya runs out of excuses to root around the system, and their mind drifts back to the call Maksim sent them off with. Did they miss anything? What could they use? All that comes back is how it sounded wrong, they’re too familiar with the difference between exhaustion and having been beaten up and somehow it still sounded like he was doing rougher than that. A clinic should’ve been his first impulse if he had the sense to…

From where? A stray little thought crosses their mind and wonders. Being gone for… three days? It doesn’t feel likely he could’ve contacted them any sooner, which means if any goons got him they probably kept him somewhere. It’s quickly followed by a familiar frustration at how little that narrows their speculation down… but they absentmindedly bring up a map of the city anyway.

They’re not sure what they’re looking for at all, flitting through the various neighborhoods hoping it will lure something to the surface. At the very least they avoid anything too central and busy. The syndicate seems at least competent enough not to risk something that easy to intrude on, but what else does that leave them?

When they hover over Bayview they stop, the name gently tugging a memory up from some kind of discussion, or a bout of complaining when the two of them settled down somewhere no one would look twice at metahumans; it’s where Maksim first entered the city for the same reason. Coincidentally there’s also a string of closed up buildings along the edge of the neighborhood, adding to why people tend to call it a slum. It would be remote, quiet, and most people have something better to do than snooping around.

But someone who’s been there before, who had just enough time to get familiar…

Ilya almost jolts out of the thought and snaps the tab closed, before they do anything more targeted despite the myriad of measures between them and any eavesdroppers. Behind them the owner wasn’t even looking at the datapad but his eyes flit in their direction at the sudden movement. “Everything in order?”

They answer with a quick nod, “все в порядке.” One corner of the owner’s mouth turns up into a grateful smile when they hand the datapad back. Holding onto the spark of an idea Ilya makes to leave the room, until they hear a snap behind their back and they’re about to aim a frown at the owner until they notice him pointing at their commlink. “Черт,” they reach over and pocket it again, muttering a quick thanks before going back up.

It still takes Ilya some searching to dig up any clinics and their contacts in Bayview, even more pacing to see which is the closest to conveniently derelict hiding places. For a brief moment they wonder if it would be easier to pull up their files directly, before shamefully remembering what a massive breach of privacy that would be. Only corps stoop to that.

It’s on a particular shadowlands thread that they track down one, Abele’s clinic, and a number they’re willing to risk first. If they’re lucky they only have to try a few before this could form a trail.

After some more checks on their commlink, and a more extensive one on the state of the server, Ilya finally sits down and dials it. It takes a moment for the call to be filtered through the security measures but just as they think this is stupid, why would this work? … someone picks up.

“Good morning, are you calling because of injuries or inquiries?” Not the greeting Ilya expected, but they’ll assume it’s Abele themself.

“A bit of both, I’m… trying to check on someone.” For a second Ilya mentally chides themself for the pause, they don’t want to seem suspicious but for all they know it only lasted for a second. Maybe they just sound nervous. Worried. “Have you got any recent visits from a troll? Dark curls, sounds Russian?”

A static silence stretches the conversation for a moment, the call’s feedback accompanied by some kind of shuffling Ilya can’t decipher from here. Until “ah, that would be… Maksim,” drifts a little more muted through the speaker, as if it was more of an aside than to Ilya directly to be cautious. His name is still clear enough to break through the bundle of uncertainty in their chest.

“Yes,” they only just manage to suppress a sigh but their shoulders still slump with relief. An impulsive little voice insists they ask can I talk to him? but they push it down. There’s no reason to think the doctor could or would let them is what they think, but they don’t want to risk the disappointment of a no either.

But before Ilya can think of their next sentence, only getting halfway through "I don't need to-"

“And who is this, how do you know him?” Ilya catches the apprehension in the doctor’s voice, and in a way it’s a relief they don’t accept their call so easily.

Their first impulse is still to lie, make something up to avoid as little information as possible… but they might not have to do too much if they can keep the nerves out of their voice. They’ve checked too many times to doubt the line is secure now. “Naspok, a friend,” they quickly append it with “he told me beforehand he was heading to this clinic,” trusting Maksim can play along with that. On the other end they hear an agreeable hum and they press on before they get cut off again. "You don’t have to put him on the line but I just wanted to pass something on, for when he can leave."

“I think we can do that,” the doctor responds slowly, it’s followed by muffled movement and some distant clicking. “Is it enough for a note?”

“Yeah, just tell him he can come here when he’s able.” Ilya moves to look at the commlink and check the current location, slowly reciting the address. When the doctor recites it back to them correctly they answer more confidently.

“That’s all?”

A few seconds of thoughtful silence pass. It should be, there’s no need to let anything more on… certainly nothing Ilya would rather say in person. “Not unless you speak Russian,” they feel a little more like themself when the humor slips back into their tone.

A brief chuckle and “sadly no” volleys back, “I’ll make sure he gets the rest though.”

With a click the call ends. Ilya stares at their commlink a moment longer, then they take a deep breath and stand up to settle the nervous energy still running through their system, and throw the commlink on their bed which lands with a soft thump.

The relief starts settling in when they roll their shoulders and drag a hand through their hand. Somehow they got it right, they didn't need to risk more guesses and people that could confirm they were asking around. But it doesn’t take long for another feeling to crash down on them, what if the doctor doesn’t pass it on? What if Maksim opts to leave instead, if that’s safer? Or whoever got him finds him again before he can go anywhere else? They wouldn’t even know if his commlink is out of commission, and briefly wonder if they should’ve offered to secure it for him. As if they could’ve known this was a risk…

This is useless, somehow that’s enough to swat the creeping doubt back down again. It’s had its time to consume them and now that they have to wait it would only be more agonizing. It almost turns into frustration when something still nags at their mind, insistent but lighter. Warmer. 

It feels… selfish, almost. Still wrapped tight around their ribs. Regardless of what’s safer, smarter, anything rational, the only consistent hope they can settle on is that Maksim doesn’t leave. And there’s no point in ignoring it, Ilya conceding to the obvious fact with a deep sigh. It’s somehow easier than they would’ve expected and yet… they don’t know what to do with it, knowing they’re in love with him.

[eldritchamy]

INTERNAL DOCUMENT - FOR REVIEW PURPOSES ONLY

Proposed Anomaly Classification for Recovered Object #01039-A, pending approval

SCP-[PENDING] - "Inside Out Hurricane"

Containment Class: Euclid Keter Disruption Class: VLAM EHKI Risk Class: Danger

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-[PENDING] is contained almost entirely within the boundaries of SCP-[PENDING]-A. [PENDING]-A should be kept closed and locked at all times unless otherwise directed by Research Supervisor [Unassigned]. A perimeter is to be maintained around the lot where [PENDING]-A sits at all times by Foundation staff posing as private security. A gated fence no less than 25ft in height should be placed around all entrances to SCP-[PENDING]-A to obstruct view from publicly accessible areas near the site. Description: SCP-[PENDING]-A is a large industrial facility with hangar-style doors at either end as well as 5 smaller staff entrances. The building is approximately 150' by 490' by 35' in volume. Brand markings on the hangar are heavily degraded, but the logo appears to have superficially resembled an unusual crown-like shape composed of four sets of horns, below which is the text "Ekur Industries, est. [indecipherable]" The exterior of the building is otherwise unremarkable. SCP-[PENDING] is an intense storm contained entirely within the interior dimensions of [PENDING]-A. The storm features extraordinary wind speeds and heavy rain that fully obscures vision beyond 2.1 meters, though lightning flashes are occasionally visible through the storm. No recording equipment has been recovered after entering the storm barrier. A specially constructed anemometer anchored from outside the building measured a sustained wind speed of at least 287.4 mph (462.5 km/h, 421.5 ft/s, 128.5 m/s), exceeding the highest reliably recorded non-tornado wind speed on Earth. Gust speeds were recorded up to 422 mph before the device suffered a catastrophic failure, prior to the completion of a 5-minute mean speed test. The maximum structural integrity of the device was designed to withstand wind speeds up to 465 mph. Water samples collected after expulsion from the storm barrier are consistent with that of non-anomalous Earth seawater. A best-fit analysis suggests the water originated somewhere in the north Arabian Sea or the Persian Gulf. The internal dimensions of the storm are unknown but believed to exceed the external dimensions of the building by a considerable margin. A successful method of measuring the scale of the storm has yet to be devised.

Addendum 01039-A.02: An exploratory mission was conducted at Entrance B, one of the staff entrances to SCP-[PENDING]-A located on the southwest exterior wall. Entrance B leads to a raised section of the facility interior presumably used by a site administrator. Much of the accessible area is unremarkable, containing various maintenance equipment and standard water and electrical infrastructure. A door of unusual construction sits at the highest accessible point within Area B. The door is a seamless, dusty tan stone that leaves no gaps around the edges, has no visible handle or opening mechanism, and is featureless apart from an adjacent sign that reads, "IT IS FORBIDDEN." Addendum 01039-A.03: EXPLORATORY LOG FOR AREA B, ██/██/20██ The first sign of something unusual was Research Advisor 2381. As soon as he saw the warning sign outside the stone door, he stopped dead and pointed at it. What follows is an audio transcript for the exploratory mission, consisting of Research Team 2381 (Dr. █████ ████████), 2607 (████ ███████), Research Lead 1670 (Dr. "█████ ███" ████████), and Mission Supervisor 0983 (Dr. ██████ █████), as well as several D-Class security personnel. 2381: "No one said that sign was in Spanish." 2607: "It's not." 2381: "Exactly." 2607: "Come again?" 2381: "I'm seeing it in Spanish." 1670: "Cognitohazard?" 0983: "Not necessarily." 1670: "[2381], what was your first language?" 2381: "Spanish." 0983: "Psychic. Everyone here have anti-memetic training?" [various noises of assent} 0983: "Good. What we're dealing with just got more interesting. If there's anything conscious behind that door, it could be anything from a low level psychic to a reality bender. Keep that Kant counter on. [2607], if you hear so much as a BLIP on that thing you call it out IMMEDIATELY."

Approximately 1 hour 16 minutes later, the team successfully opened the door and proceeded inside.

2607: "Clear so far." 2381: "Let's hope it stays that way." 0983: "Well, well. What have we here?" 1670: "Mission control be advised the room looks like an office, but everything in it is...out of place. It looks more like a museum than anything. Various maps and texts pinned to the walls. Some old artifacts. Very old statuettes and things. Normal looking desk with a lot of papers on it. There's a large viewing window overlooking the storm. Can't see a fucking thing through it, of course. Can't hear it either, though, so the glass is VERY solid. Soundproofed somehow." 2381: "Map on the wall shows ... Middle East, but it's not modern. It LOOKS like it was taken from a satellite, but there's ... it's like civilization hasn't happened yet. There's almost no cities on here at all, and I don't recognize any of the names. Might need to bring in [REDACTED] from Site-██, she has a background in Assyriology." 1670: "What is that thing MADE of? Looks like leather." 2381: "Very old leather. Sheep skin, maybe? God I hope it's sheep." 1670: "Desk is covered in old writing. Paper is all falling apart old. There's a tablet, too." 0983: "Is it on?" 1670: "Uh, not that kind of tablet, sir. Some kind of clay or stone. There's writing on it, but ... it's weird." 2607: "CLICK." 0983: "What was that?" 1670: "It's ... I can read it." 2607: "Clicks, sir. Something on the Kant counter." 1670: "I don't even know what LANGUAGE this is." 2381: "I'd guess Sumerian, based on this map. If not older." 0983: "What are you reading, [2607]? 1670: "'You who would come so far, for what do you come?'" 2607: "It's coming from the statue, I think." [several audible pops from the Kant counter] 2301: "Statue ... plaque under it says ... 'The Founder, N. Lil'?" 1670: "'For what do you invoke my name? This place is not your place, our purpose is not your purpose...'" 0983: "[1670], stop reading that right now!" [popping sounds increase in frequency and volume] 1670: "'Petulant children of Amar-Utuk, things of clay and breath, by what right do you seek the unseekable, upon whose honor do you hope to know the unknowable?'" 2607: "Sir... this thing is reading something big." 0983: "I am ORDERING you to stop. Everyone out of the room, NOW. If he keeps reading it, shoot him. He's lost." 2301: "N. Lil. Where have I heard that before?" 1670: "'As I separated the sky and the firmament-'" [multiple gunshots] 1670: "-as I separated the earth from the waters, so shall my winds separate the waters from clay. This domain is not your domain, for all domains by rights are mine alone to rule. You have come too far, and you shall trespass no further." [Kant counter emits a near constant pitch until the sound of glass shattering can be heard, and the storm overtakes the room instantly. The remainder of the audio recording is 10.3 seconds of wind, rain, and thunder before the transmission abruptly ends.]

Addendum 01039-A.04: All members of Exploratory Mission 01039-B are presumed deceased. The exterior of SCP-[PENDING]-A seems to have contained the storm and prevented further breach. Entrance B has been welded shut and all pending exploratory missions are terminated until further notice. Precisely 24 hours after the mission was terminated, a Kant counter was found outside the welded door to Area B. After drying and data recovery, it is believed to be the Kant counter used by EM 01039-B. The final recording logged by the counter showed Akiva radiation and Hume distortion consistent with an Apex tier pluripotent entity. The mechanism by which the entity is contained by [PENDING]-A is unknown. Additional research funding has been requested.

Addendum 01039-A.05: Attn. Research Team 10139-A.05, Your request is denied. We were given a clear warning. Maintain perimeter and take no further actions without authorization. MTF Eta-77 and MTF Psi-7 have been notified of your status and will be in touch. Regards, O5-11

.

[voluptuarian]

its so weird to me how people will freak out if they visit a historical site which may have had any connection at all to trans-atlantic slavery, meanwhile every day thousands of people go visit the giant stadiums built with slave labor where ancient romans used to watch enslaved people kill each other, criminals get eaten alive, and animal cruelty be performed on a massive scale for fun and entertainment and nobody bats an eye

[literaryvein-reblogs]

commonly confused words

accept: to receive except: with the exclusion of

advice: recommendation (noun) advise: to recommend (verb)

adverse: unfavorable averse: opposed to

affect: to influence (verb); emotional response (noun) effect: result (noun); to cause (verb)

aisle: space between rows isle: island

allude: to make indirect reference to elude: to avoid

allusion: indirect reference illusion: false idea, misleading appearance

already: by this time all ready: fully prepared

altar: sacred platform or place alter: to change

altogether: thoroughly all together: everyone/everything in one place

a lot: a quantity; many of something allot: to divide or portion out

angel: supernatural being, good person angle: shape made by joining two straight lines

are: plural form of "to be" our: plural form of "my"

accent: pronunciation common to a region ascent: the act of rising or climbing assent: consent, agreement

assistance: help assistants: helpers

bare: nude, unadorned bear: to carry; an animal

beside: close to; next to besides: except for; in addition

boar: a wild male pig bore: to drill a hole through

board: piece of wood bored: uninterested

born: brought into life borne: past participle of "to bear" (carry)

breath: air taken in (noun) breathe: to take in air (verb)

brake: device for stopping break: destroy; make into pieces

buy: to purchase by: next to; through the agency of

canvas: heavy cloth canvass: to take a survey; a survey

capital: major city capitol: government building

choose: to pick chose: past tense of "to choose"

clothes: garments close: to shut; near cloths: pieces of fabric

coarse: rough course: path; series of lectures

complement: something that completes compliment: praise, flattery

conscience: sense of morality conscious: awake, aware

corps: regulated group corpse: dead body

council: governing body counsel: advice; to give advice

dairy: place where milk products are processed diary: personal journal

descent: downward movement dissent: disagreement

dessert: final, sweet course in a meal desert: to abandon; dry, sandy area

device: a plan; a tool or utensil devise: to create

discreet: modest, prudent behavior discrete: a separate thing, distinct

do: a verb indicating performance or execution of a task dew: water droplets condensed from air due: as a result of

dominant: commanding, controlling dominate: to control

die: to lose life; one of a pair of dice dye: to change or add color

dyeing: changing or adding color dying: losing life

elicit: to draw out illicit: illegal, forbidden

eminent: prominent imminent: about to happen

envelop: to surround (verb) envelope: container for a letter (noun)

everyday: routine, commonplace, ordinary (adj.) every day: each day, succession (adj. + noun)

fair: just, honest; a carnival; light skinned fare: money for transportation; food

farther: at a greater (measurable) distance further: in greater (non-measurable) depth

formally: conventionally, with ceremony formerly: previously

forth: forward fourth: number four in a list

gorilla: animal in ape family guerrilla: soldier specializing in surprise attacks

hear: to sense sound by ear here: in this place

heard: past tense of "to hear" herd: group of animals

hoard: a hidden fund or supply, a cache horde: a large group or crowd, swarm

hole: opening whole: complete; an entire thing

human: relating to the species homo sapiens humane: compassionate

its: possessive form of "it" it's: contraction for "it is"

knew: past tense of "know" new: fresh, not yet old

know: to comprehend no: negative

later: after a time latter: second one of two things

lead: heavy metal substance; to guide led: past tense of "to lead"

lessen: to decrease lesson: something learned and/or taught

lightning: storm-related electricity lightening: making lighter

loose: unbound, not tightly fastened lose: to misplace

maybe: perhaps (adv.) may be: might be (verb)

meat: animal flesh meet: to encounter mete: to measure; to distribute

medal: a flat disk stamped with a design meddle: to interfere, intrude metal: a hard organic substance mettle: courage, spirit, energy

miner: a worker in a mine minor: underage person (noun); less important (adj.)

moral: distinguishing right from wrong; lesson of a fable or story morale: attitude or outlook usually of a group

passed: past tense of "to pass" past: at a previous time

patience: putting up with annoyances patients: people under medical care

peace: absence of war piece: part of a whole; musical arrangement

peak: point, pinnacle, maximum peek: to peer through or look furtively pique: fit of resentment, feeling of wounded vanity

pedal: the foot lever of a bicycle or car petal: a flower segment peddle: to sell

personal: intimate; owned by a person personnel: employees

plain: simple, unadorned plane: to shave wood; aircraft (noun)

precede: to come before proceed: to continue

presence: attendance; being at hand presents: gifts

principal: foremost (adj.); administrator of a school (noun) principle: moral conviction, basic truth

quiet: silent, calm quite: very

rain: water drops falling; to fall like rain reign: to rule rein: strap to control an animal (noun); to guide or control (verb)

raise: to lift up raze: to tear down

rational: having reason or understanding rationale: principles of opinion, beliefs

respectfully: with respect respectively: in that order

reverend: title given to clergy; deserving respect reverent: worshipful

right: correct; opposite of left rite: ritual or ceremony write: to put words on paper

road: path rode: past tense of "to ride"

scene: place of an action; segment of a play seen: viewed; past participle of "to see"

sense: perception, understanding since: measurement of past time; because

sight: scene, view, picture site: place, location cite: to document or quote (verb)

stationary: standing still stationery: writing paper

straight: unbending strait: narrow or confining; a waterway

taught: past tense of "to teach" taut: tight

than: used to introduce second element; compared to then: at that time; next

their: possessive form of "they" there: in that place they’re: contraction for "they are"

through: finished; into and out of threw: past tense of "to throw" thorough: complete

to: toward too: also; very (used to show emphasis) two: number following one

track: course, road tract: pamphlet; plot of ground

waist: midsection of the body waste: discarded material; to squander

waive: forgo, renounce wave: flutter, move back and forth

weak: not strong week: seven days

weather: climatic condition whether: if wether: a neutered male sheep

where: in which place were: past tense of "to be"

which: one of a group witch: female sorcerer

whose: possessive for "of who" who’s: contraction for "who is"

your: possessive for "of you" you’re: contraction for "you are" yore: time long past

commonly confused words part 2

[lord-hunkyhair]

believe me, i do

rip keefe sencen u would've loved sweatpants and hoodies

[ariestrxsh]

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 content warning: smut, innocence corruption, sneaking around, praise, oral (m! & f!receiving), temperature play, pool sex, small age gap (both characters are adults), pervy!brothersbsf!matt, innocent!reader, forbidden love

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 author's note: here are parts one and two, and there are more to come after this. 💖 enjoy!

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 summary: your protective older brother has always warned you to stay away from his best friend, matt sturniolo. after losing your virginity to matt, going against your brother's judgment, the two of you start sneaking around in plain sight.

young god part three

Your brother had been home from college for a few days now, and your parents had taken him into the city for a fancy lunch to celebrate graduating another year. You'd opted out because all you wanted was a nice, quiet, and relaxing day spent by the inground pool in your backyard.

You laid out a bright yellow towel beside the crystal blue body of water that you'd finally deemed warm enough to swim in. You kneeled by the poolside and in one hand, you held a creamsicle that was slowly being melted by the afternoon sun, and with the other, you delicately ran your fingers across the surface of the water.

The cold feeling of the liquid on your warm skin was rejuvenating and refreshing. You could smell the chlorine and freshly cut grass that drifted through the summer air. You laid on your side, propping yourself up with your elbow, enjoying the complementary combination of the slight, cool breeze and hot, sunny weather.

Behind you, the sound of the back gate slowly creaking open alerted you. You turned your head in the direction of the noise, and there stood Matt Sturniolo, your older brother's childhood best friend, your biggest crush as a little girl, and the man you'd given your virginity to just a few nights prior.

Your stomach fluttered, and your heart raced as the object of your affection made his way towards you, shirtless and in nothing but swim trunks.

"Hey, sweet thing. Is your brother home?" He asked you, watching the way you made your pink treat disappear behind your lips. You shook your head no. "He's out with my parents. I don't think they'll be home for another hour or so."

A sly smile peeked through Matt's expression as he realized what that meant. "Damn," he said, faking his disappointment and taking his beach towel that was thrown over his muscular shoulder and switching it to the opposite one. "Well, it looks like you and I had the same idea. Mind if I join you?"

"No, I don't mind at all," you responded, studying his slim build. "What kind of popsicle you got there?" He wondered, sitting next to you and watching the way you sucked on the cold dessert. "It's a strawberry creamsicle," you replied, blushing.

"You look so pretty with it in your mouth," he complimented you, and you responded with a timid giggle. His eyes grazed over your body, and how cute you looked in your black and white-striped bikini. "Look at you. You could be a swimsuit model," he flirted, running the tips of his fingers along the length of your thighs. You rolled your eyes and swooned.

"Have you put on your sunscreen yet, sweet thing?" He motioned towards the unopened bottle beside you. You shook your head. "Not yet. I have to wait til I'm done with this." You stuck out your tongue and licked a long stripe up your fruit-flavored treat.

Just then, some of the ice cream melted from your popsicle stick, landing on your chest, and you jumped at the cold feeling. "Let me help you with that," Matt cooed, and without missing a beat, he leaned in and licked it off the top of your breast that poked out of your bikini top with his blue eyes locked on yours. You softly hummed and squeezed your thighs together in response.

"Why don't I get your back for you, hmm? Gotta protect that pretty skin," Matt offered, picking up the suntan lotion. He applied a bit of the initially cold-feeling sunscreen to your shoulders, massaging it into your warm flesh.

He rubbed your back with his strong hands, exerting more pressure as you began to relax under his caress. He listened to the sounds you made while you sucked on your strawberry creamsicle, his cock stirring in his shorts.

After he had worked the lotion into the skin of your shoulders, he asked you to lay on your stomach, and he started to spread the lotion on the back of your calves and the back of your thighs while you propped yourself up onto your elbows.

He squirted a bit of suntan lotion onto your perfectly round ass, and started thoroughly massaging it into the fleshy part of your bottom. You grew wet under the touch of Matt's large hands.

He spent a suspicious amount of time squeezing it and groping it, smirking to himself. He even gave you a light swat on the ass, and you blushed and timidly laughed before he asked you to turn over again.

Matt intently watched you run your tongue along your sugary dessert while he slathered sunscreen onto your chest and your stomach. "Why do you like watching me lick ice cream so much?" You naively inquired. "Maybe I'll show you once you're all done with it," he teased you. You playfully glared at him for not letting you in on the secret.

Without warning, Matt's fingers slipped into your bikini top, and he started tweaking your nipples, causing them to harden at the sensation. You gasped. "Matt, what are you doing? I'm not gonna get any sunlight there!" You giggled as you peered up at him, lapping up your melting dessert.

"That's only if this top stays on the whole time we're out here," Matt raised an eyebrow at you and his lips curled into a flirtatious smile that indicated that he was up to no good. You let out a moan as he tenderly grabbed a handful of each supple breast.

Lust twinkled in his blue eyes as he started to jiggle them in his grasp, which made your cheeks rosey pink with embarrassment. "Don't be shy, sweetheart. They're so beautiful," Matt's voice was laced with sensuality.

He moved his hands down your stomach, your waist, and your hips. He slowly pushed your legs apart, and he started oiling up your thighs. A smug expression played in the corner of his mouth as he inched closer to your special place. "Matt! I'm definitely not going to be getting any sunlight there!" You lightheartedly giggled as he slipped his finger beneath the fabric of your swimsuit bottoms.

"Oh, I know, sweet thing, but you can never be too careful. Plus, I like the way you sound when I touch you right here," he said, tenderly rubbing your clit in circles. You immediately felt a faint whimper pass through your lips, and you stuck your creamsicle back into your mouth, sucking on it.

"That's it. Keep making those pretty sounds for me," Matt hummed, a smug smirk playfully crawling into his expression while he continued his movements. He started slowly taking off your bikini bottoms, and you lifted your hip points to help him remove them more easily.

You finished the rest of your ice cream, licking the stick clean and holding eye contact with Matt as he slipped your bottoms down your thighs and tossed them to the side. He reached behind your back and untied your swimsuit top and started removing the fabric from your body.

He spread open your legs once again, revealing your glistening folds and causing your shy nature to surface along with a flushed expression. There you were, tits out and pussy on display in your backyard while Matt ran his fingers along your slit, teasing you and making you even more wet.

You shivered as the summer breeze passed over your wet cunt, creating a delightful sensation. He took the tip of his pointer finger and started tapping rhythmically on your sensitive bud, causing you to jerk beneath his commanding touch. "Oh, Matt," you gasped.

"Good girl," he hummed in response as he leaned down and planted a kiss between your legs. Another moan escaped your pink lips as his tongue gently caressed your clit, circling it and teasing you. His blue eyes lingered on yours while he continued this motion with his licks, drawing closer to all your nerve endings.

When he was right on your most sensitive spot, he closed his lips down around it and started tenderly suckling. You threw your head back and let out a delighted noise while his tongue danced along your folds, lapping up your wetness.

"You know, I've got a popsicle for you to suck on," Matt glanced up at you with his charming smirk. You nodded at him wide-eyed with your lower lip pinned between your canine teeth.

"Why don't you hop in the pool, sweetheart?" Matt suggested, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You went to reach for your bathing bottoms, but Matt swatted your hand away. "Ah, ah, ah," he shook his head. "Your bathing suit stays off."

"But Matt, I'm naked," you giggled in a shy voice. "Good. I like you that way," he chuckled in response, reaching up and gently groping your breasts again. His touch was strong and demanding, but there was a softness to it and a tenderness in his tone as he spoke. His eyes danced across your exposed body as you inched towards the pool, and you let out a shrill sound as you slowly submerged yourself in the cold water.

Matt's swim shorts fell around his ankles, and he stepped out of them, one foot at a time, and your gaze immediately fixated on the rod between his legs. You couldn't believe that something so big had been inside of you a few nights prior. His protruding tip was glossy with a clear fluid, and his veins decorated his shaft so beautifully.

You didn't mean to be rude, but you couldn't stop staring. Even as Matt sat at the edge of the pool, immersing only the bottom half of his legs, you couldn't pull your eyes off his pretty dick. He wrapped his fingers around it and started slowly stroking it in front of you.

"Come have a taste," he motioned for you to come here with his free hand. You nodded and made your way back over to the edge of the pool. Your stare flickered between his eyes and his aggravated tip. "Open up, sweet thing," he purred, guiding his cock towards your mouth and delicately grabbing onto the back of your head. You slightly parted your lips for him.

"You're gonna have to open a little wider for me," he cooed, chuckling at how cute you were. You obediently listened, parting them further. He burrowed his tip into your mouth, which was still cold from your dessert earlier, and he emitted a guttural moan at the way the temperature change elevated the sensation.

"That's it. Be a good girl and suck on it just like you did with your popsicle, hmm?" He encouraged you, giving you direction and showing you how he liked it. You hollowed out your cheeks and slowly bobbed your head up and down, lightly gagging as the head grazed the back of your throat.

Matt peered down at you with a loving, lustful stare. Your soft, cold tongue slithered up and down the backside of his length, caressing his veins and causing his dick to twitch against your lips every time you came back up and stimulated his tip.

"Eyes on me, baby," Matt whispered, petting your cheek with his thumb and grunting as you swirled your tongue around his nerve-endings. You couldn't get enough of the way Matt looked at you while you gave him head, almost as if the feeling of your mouth was saving his life.

He licked his lips and nodded at you with his eyes glazed over with pleasure as you continued to suck on it for him. "Good girl. Don't stop. You're gonna make me finish all over that pretty tongue of yours," Matt moaned, thoroughly examining the way you serviced him in the most intimate fashion.

His lovely words and the tone of voice he used when he spoke them made your stomach drop. He delighted in the image of you peering up at him with your innocent eyes and his dick buried behind your pink lips.

"That's it, sweet thing. Be a good girl and swallow it all for me," Matt encouraged you with his brows knitted together in an almost concerned expression. His blue eyes were filled with seduction and temptation, and he licked his lips again before letting out another sinful moan. His cock began to twitch between your lips, and he held you in place while he loaded your mouth with his thick, milky seed.

"Oh, yes. What a good girl you are," Matt gave you his most charming smile as the muscles in his stomach spasmed, painting your tongue with several spurts of his cum and nearly filling your mouth faster than you could gulp it down. It tasted bitter, but you did as you were told, making sure not to let a single drop go to waste.

"That was perfect," Matt whispered breathlessly as he caressed your face and ran his fingers through your hair. "That made me so wet between my legs," you admitted to Matt. "I guess you like sucking cock, hmm? You took such good care of it," He cooed, giving you his bedroom eyes. You nibbled on your lip and nodded up at him.

"Now, I gotta take care of my girl," he replied, dipping into the pool along with you, making a bit of a splash in the water. He reveled in the cold feeling against his warm flesh. He grabbed you by your waist and picked you up, and you squealed at the way he handled you.

He directed his still-hard rod towards your hole, sinking it in and listening to your whimper at the sensation of being stretched out again. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed it in deeper. You were still sore from having lost your virginity to him a few nights before, and your walls fluttered around his sensitive cock. You whined in pain.

"Sh, sh, sh. It's going to be alright. I'm gonna make my girl feel so good," Matt hushed you, looking into your eyes and brushing his thumb across your flushed cheek once more. He went in for the kiss, passionately locking lips with you while your naked bodies were pressed up against each other in the water.

He slowly thrust into you, causing you to moan into his mouth, your lips vibrating against his while he held you in his strong arms, bouncing you up and down on his rod. Matt's tongue politely begged for entrance as he deeply kissed you.

The water around the two of you rippled out at the movements you made. You started to relax as the sensation transformed to pure ecstacy in the matter of a few strokes. He listened as your stifled whines turned into cries of delight.

"Good girl. You take it so well," Matt grunted, speeding up the pace and moving his lips down to your chest. He tenderly took your tit into his mouth and started licking and teasing.

"Oh," you muttered, throwing your head back. He hummed against your breast while his tongue flickered over your sensitive nipple. He suckled on it just like he had with your clit earlier while he drove his hips forward, stimulating that special place deep in your core.

His mouth moved back up, and he started kissing up your neck, nipping and biting at it while pulling you close again. You softly whimpered in his ear while he explored your erogenous zones with his lips.

Your arms were wrapped around the back of his neck, your fingernails lightly digging into his back as you tightly gripped his waist with your legs. "That's it, sweet thing. Take it," he groaned, savoring the feeling of your warm, wet pussy squeezing around his hungry cock while your bodies moved in tandem, giving and accepting one another in a primal dance.

Your brother had always warned you about Matt's perverse nature and his way with words, the way he could lull any girl he wanted into his arms and into his sheets, but you saw a different side of him. You saw his desire to make you feel safe, the appreciation he felt towards your body, and the way he prioritized your pleasure.

You were both on the verge of greatness, nearing your shared orgasm while you chanted each other's names. Before you knew it, your body was going limp as you steadily clenched around Matt's throbbing dick. The two of you finished together, and he filled you with his seed once again.

You'd been waiting for that feeling again, dreaming about it, yearning for it. You loved how easy it was for Matt to get you off, and your climaxes were so much more intense with him than they were on your own. You couldn't get enough of him.

The two of you were staring into each other's eyes, and your legs were still wrapped around Matt's waist when you heard a car door shut. You and Matt scurried out of the water, throwing your bathing suits back on. Matt was helping you tie the strings of your top back together when your brother wandered through the gate.

"Matt? What are you doing here? I told you I was going out to lunch with my parents," your brother said, clenching his jaw and squeezing his hand together in a fist. "I know. Your sister invited me to swim with her," Matt said, glancing over at you, and you blushed.

"What were you doing when I walked through that gate, huh?" Your brother raised his voice a bit. "I was just helping her fix her top. It came undone in the pool," Matt lied. "Dude, you're sick. Stay away from my sister when I'm not home," your brother said, baring his teeth and flaring his nostrils.

"Dude. Chill. Her top came untied when we were splashing each other, and I covered my eyes until she put it back on. She just wanted me to double knot it for her. That's all," Matt said, holding his hands up in a defensive position, his heart beating out of his chest.

"He's telling the truth," you nodded, Matt's cum still slowly dripping out of your pussy and into your bikini bottoms. Your brother's eyes glanced between you and Matt before he relaxed his shoulders and let out a sigh. "I'm sorry. I had a few beers with lunch. I just saw the two of you and assumed," your brother chuckled. The tension in the air was gone just like that.

"It's cool, dude. I get it. Come on. Let's go take some of that aggression out on those damn zombies," Matt laughed, playfully slugging your brother in the arm, and the two boys walked off together to go play video games.

Right before Matt disappeared from view, he looked back at you for a moment and winked, letting you know how much he was enjoying your little collective secret.

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 part four here

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[bookwyrminspiration]

people will just say things about characters sometimes

[wttcsms]

talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things !!

ᝰ.ᐟ after narrowly avoiding a kaiju attack unharmed, you think you’ve gotten away unscathed until you start feeling an unfamiliar, unsatiable heat building inside of you. it’s almost similar to the funny butterflies you get in your tummy when you see your older brother’s rival, third division vice captain soshiro hoshina. and wouldn’t you know it: you just so happen to cross paths with him. ( fem!reader )

pairing soshiro hoshina x reader word count 4.8k content contains soft dom!hoshina, slight love confessions, narumi's younger + civilian sister!reader, creampie, forbidden romance-ish, you two get caught by narumi in the end, sex pollen, biting (please look at hoshina's lil fangs & tell me he ISN'T a biter) kinktober masterlist

You’re in trouble. 

Gen always said you had a knack for getting yourself into situations. You always got in trouble back in school because one student would act up and make a mess, escaping in time, leaving you as the only person for the teacher to catch. Or, someone would break something in a store, and you’d be the unsuspecting customer to happen to walk down the aisle the same time the manager comes by to investigate. In a pay-it-forward chain, you naturally get stuck in front of the person with a 10-people group order, and you’ve always been too kindhearted (and people pleasing) to break the chain… 

Needless to say, it isn’t that you have a knack for getting yourself into trouble. It’s just that you always happen to find yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time. 

In your defense, your neighborhood isn’t just relatively safe — it’s as safe as can be. Gen’s the one who vetted it out for you in the first place, still a little annoyed that his little sister wants to play at being independent. Do you know how dangerous it is for a young woman to live alone in this city? He told you, before complaining that you’re one of the biggest headaches in his life. 

He says this, but he’s the one who patrolled your neighborhood for the two weeks leading up to you moving in. He’s the one who scaled the apartment complex and made sure the security measures were up to par. He’s the one who accessed all records of nearby kaiju attacks and took in the statistical data with careful consideration before finally agreeing that you could live here. You know your older brother cares. It’s why you always try to practice caution in your everyday life. The last thing you want is to be an inconvenience for him. 

This, you think nervously, goes a bit beyond a mere inconvenience. 

Right in front of the gates of your well-protected, super-safe luxury apartment complex is a kaiju. 

And while you and Gen might share the same genes, there are some differences between you and your older brother. The most important one right now being the fact that while he’s the captain of the First Division in the Defense Force, you’re just a civilian. 

A civilian who always finds herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

You’re not sure how long the monster’s been here, nor are you going to bother sticking around to find out. You have no clue when the Defense Force is going to dispatch, and you happen to be the only unlucky soul outside right now. The kaiju’s already detected your presence, and you fumble for the bracelet on your wrist, searching desperately for the emergency button on the wristband. Gen had gotten this custom-made for you. The minute you activate the button, Gen’s notified of your location. It’s an in-case-of-emergency-only, and you’ve never felt the need to use it before. Until now.

You take a few steps back, almost stumbling on the pavement, palming at your bracelet, letting out a sigh of relief as you find the tiny button. And then your heart drops as you realize just how bad your luck is.

The button’s jammed. 

Because of course it would be. 

Because you just always have to constantly be in trouble, don’t you? 

The last thing you can think about before your impending doom is that you hope Gen won’t be too upset. Everyone thinks your older brother is childish and sometimes hard to deal with, but you know him best. If only you were a bit more like him; maybe then you wouldn’t feel so resigned to your fate.

“[Name]? Whaddya doin’?” Casually dropping by — no, literally dropping onto the pavement — is none other than Third Division Vice Captain Soshiro Hoshina. 

On one hand, you’re happy he’s here. You are definitely not dying today. On the other hand… Why did it have to be him of all people? It’s one thing to have a near-death experience, but to have it in front of your longtime crush? You honestly wished the kaiju got a hit on you. Nothing fatal; just enough to have you in a coma, or better yet, turn you into an amnesiac so you never have to relive this moment in your memories. 

“H-Hoshina?” You squeak out. He gives you a concerned look before turning all of his attention to the kaiju, brandishing his swords in one swift, fluid movement. 

You’ve seen footage of Hoshina fighting before, even going out of your way to search up news footage of the Third Division’s missions just to catch a glimpse of the Vice Captain. You’re used to the way Gen fights; hard and fast, sometimes a bit flashy. He’s hard to miss when he’s hauling his almost cartoonishly big bayonet attached to his massive rifle. Maybe it’s crush bias, but you admire the way Hoshina fights. With him, he’s all lithe muscle and agility. There’s a sort of beauty to the way he fights, moving like a dancer, every arc and stroke of his twin blades purposeful. 

Despite the size of the beast in front of you, a muscular mass of pink and purple flesh, Hoshina makes quick work of it. So quick, in fact, that he doesn’t think to consult the command and support center as he digs his blades into its body, landing fatal cuts that take down the kaiju—

—and allowing its massive body to emit a strange violet gas that quickly starts to spread all over the scene. The scent of it is sickeningly sweet, and it overwhelms you.

Eyes wide, Hoshina sprints to your side, tugging at his own mask as if he’s about to force you to put it on, but you shake your head. You’re coughing, inhaling the mysterious vapor the now-dead kaiju is emitting, but you feel fine enough to start walking to the gate of your apartment.

“Fuck.” Hoshina curses, rushing to your side, gripping your left arm as you finish punching in the gate code. “Hey, are you hurt anywhere? D’you feel weird, funny, anything?” 

His concern for you is making you feel embarrassed, but it’s not like that’s the answer he’s searching for. 

“I’m fine, really.” You force a smile. “I’m safe now, all thanks to you. I’m sure Gen’s going to have a lot to say about this.” You roll your eyes, trying to lighten the mood, but Hoshina’s red eyes are staring deep into your own. He’s not laughing. In fact, this is one of the rare moments where you’ve ever seen the Vice Captain so serious. 

“Let me walk ya up to your apartment, at least. Just in case somethin’ happens.” 

You want to tell him that you’re pretty sure there’s no other kaijus lurking around in the hallway of your complex, ready to strike, but you can tell he’s stubborn. And besides, later at night, when you’re all alone and falling asleep to fantasies about a world where Soshiro Hoshina likes you just as much as you like him, you’ll romanticize the fuck out of him being so concerned for your safety.

Because at the end of the day, it’s Hoshina’s job to protect the defenseless citizens like you. He’d do this for any other person who has bad luck like you. It’s not like he’s walking you back, concerned for your safety, purely because it’s you.

Following your string of bad luck is the fact that the elevators are currently out of order. Fantastic.

You turn to him. “Um, I don’t really think walking up almost a dozen flight of stairs is in your job description. You can just leave me here, really! I’ll even call my brother, just in case you think something bad might happen to me in the five minutes you leave me alone.” 

“Don’t be silly, Junior.” This time, Hoshina does flash you his normal, teasing smile. The one that you fell head over heels for back on the primary school playground. The gesture is enough to make you almost ignore the way he brings up that stupid nickname. Junior. Narumi Junior — that’s who you are to him. His rival’s annoying little sister, always faithfully trailing behind her older brother, never saying a word when Gen starts throwing insults his way. “Just ‘cause I’m not captain of the First Division doesn’t mean I can’t handle a few flight of stairs. Ya doubtin’ me?” 

You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. Hoshina’s just being nice, you tell yourself. And you have to keep repeating this mantra in your head as you dutifully follow a step behind him on the stairs. 

You’ve noticed it before, but you’ve never been this close up ‘til now. Hoshina’s uniform fits him very well. The black fabric of the suit only serves to emphasize the lean muscles he’s spent years training, his Defense Force-issued boots only serve to announce every step he takes, even the gas mask he wears to protect himself — all of it just suits him so well. 

You try to ignore the flicker of heat lighting up your core, something a little bit more intense than the little flutter of butterflies you normally get when you’re next to Hoshina. You just have to make it back to your apartment, you reason. You’ll make it back to your apartment, and you can lay down on your bed, and then you’ll have all the time in the world to think about how nice Hoshina looks in his uniform, and how special you feel that he’s personally escorting you home. 

But the growing heat within you becomes harder to ignore, and you can’t quite control your labored breaths, not from the walk upstairs but from the fact that you truly do feel hot. Hot, and dizzy, and downright desperate for some relief. Something isn’t right, you realize. And Hoshina catches on quick, too, especially when your knees buckle and you nearly fall until he catches you in his arms. 

He says your name so seriously, you’re almost snapped out of whatever weird daze you’re in. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?” His eyes scan your weakened body before pulling you closer to him. In a second, he’s lifting you up, carrying you bridal style as he starts to sprint up the stairs. You know there’s a time and place for everything, but you can’t help but admire the fact that Hoshina can carry you while running up several stories and he’s not even breaking a sweat. 

The thought of this makes your core grow warmer, and you wriggle a bit in his hold. 

“We’re almost to your apartment, don’t worry.” He reassures you, tightening his grip on you. Hoshina is holding you so close to him that with every inhale, you breathe him in. He smells of musky cologne and something familiar from your childhood, like mochi and other sweets. It’s a funny mix, but it suits him. You find yourself snuggling even closer to him, and if you were in your right state of mind, you would be screaming at yourself for being so bold. But the heat inside of you, it’s seeking him out. 

“I need your key, [Name].” He tells you, and despite the way he’s clearly in a rush, he’s still patient and sweet with you. 

You shamelessly bury the front of your face into his chest, trying to avoid him as you admit, “I must’ve dropped it.” 

He swears, but it’s not at you. “That’s okay.” He tells you, even though you’re proving to be a very inconvenient girl. “Hey, who pays for this apartment?” 

“Gen.” You sheepishly admit. You offered to pay the rent, but he’s the one who chose the insanely expensive penthouse for you. One of you is making a Captain-level salary, and it’s damn sure not you. It only makes sense he’d cover rent. 

“Good.” Hoshina says, before promptly kicking open your door.

And again, time and place for everything, but you can’t help but get a little too excited at his show of strength. 

Hoshina sets you down gently on your bed, frowning as he takes you in. 

“What’s the matter? You need to tell me how you’re feelin’, or else I can’t help you, okay?” 

Hoshina’s being so gentle with you, it’s enough to make your heart soar and ache all at once. He leans down, pressing a cool hand to your forehead. You must feel normal enough, because he doesn’t make a comment, even though you feel like you’re burning up. 

You know what’s the matter. 

You want Soshiro Hoshina in a way a woman wants a man. 

“...hot…” You finally mutter out, squirming on top of your sheets. “I‘m hot.” 

“Hot?” Hoshina’s confused for a few seconds, until he watches the way you press your thighs together, your tiny fingers tugging at your clothes, the way you bite down on the bottom of your lip before peering up at him curiously, trying to see if he understands you. 

It hits him all at once. A kaiju that’s a blend of pink and purple, the sweet scent its gas emitted. This is a rare type of kaiju; the one that boosts one’s pheromones, turns its victim delirious with lust. The only way to help, really, is for the affected person to be truly satiated. 

He knows it’s wrong to think of Narumi’s little sister like this, but Hoshina would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about you writhing on a bed, wantonly calling out his name, begging for him to give you relief that you can’t find from anyone else. He dreams about it, really. Not just the sex, but everything that encompasses taking care of you. He wants to make sure that you’re always well taken care of, always safe, always protected. This isn’t the Third Divison’s territory, y’know. But between patrol breaks, Hoshina finds himself around your neighborhood just on the off chance that something bad happens. It’s a good thing he was there today. 

And it’s his lucky day, he thinks, that he’s here with you now.

No other man would treat you as well. No other man would be able to satiate you.

“Let me help you, baby.” The pet name rolls off easily on his tongue. He’s so used to teasing you, careful to avoid saying your name too much. He saves his reverent groans of your name for when he’s pumping his cock in the darkness of his room. “I know exactly what you need.” 

“Hoshina.” You moan out, and he swallows hard at how desperate you sound for him. “I need you so bad.”

“It’s the kaiju.” He mutters, getting on the bed with you, balancing himself on his knees. He’s towering over you from this angle, and you look up at him. “The kaiju’s gas acts as a… bit of a sex pollen, really. And I can help ya combat the effects, but I— I can’t take advantage of ya. You’re Narumi’s precious lil’ sister. It’d be wrong.” He’s trying to talk some sense, but you’re immediately frowning. 

“Nuh uh.” You whine out, pouting. And it’s thanks to the kaiju that you have lowered your inhibitions, because you would never admit this out loud otherwise. “I always want Vice Captain Hoshina like this.” 

Fuck. You know just how to drive a man crazy.

“Usin’ my title?” He grins, leaning down to get his face closer to yours. “Good girl. Ya mind your manners, don’t ya?” 

And he rewards you with a kiss. 

The kiss turns hungry, desperate. You’re tilting your head up a bit to try to capture his lips some more, even though the two of you are already as close as can be. You two are a mess of tongue and teeth by the time you have to struggle for oxygen, and as he reluctantly pulls back, there’s even a thin string of saliva still connecting the two of you. 

“So, ya always wanted me, huh?” The thought that the girl of his dreams could possibly want him as much as he wants her turns him on like nothing else. He must be dreaming, he decides. And then he thinks, he doesn’t fucking care if this is a dream or not. If he gets to fuck you boneless, then he trusts in himself to never wake up. “Whaddya like about me so much?” 

He’s just teasing you now. He’s always teasing you. It’s what he’s good at. You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you shyly admit, “I’ve always liked you. Even before you got the fancy uniform and your rank. You’re funny and sweet and you care about others.” Even in your sex-focused mind, the genuine feelings you harbor for Hoshina shine through. This catches him off guard. 

You might be under the effects of the kaiju’s vapor, but the sweet girl he’s fallen for is still laying down right underneath him. It’s not just lust for you. There’s genuine love.

“Fuck, I’m gonna treat you so well.” He peppers kisses all over your face; your cheeks, your eyelids, your jawline, teasing you ‘til he finally, finally, plants a kiss on your swollen lips again. 

He makes quick work of your clothes, committing the sight of your bare body to his memory. He tells you you’re beautiful, and he means it. You want to tell him to stop trying to charm you, but then he’s immediately going down on you, digging his fingers into the plush of your thighs as he spreads them apart, forcing you to open yourself up to him.

You’re caught off guard, but your body screams in relief as you watch Hoshina get eye-level with your cunt. He licks his lips before glancing up at you. 

“Such a cute pussy my lil’ civvie baby has.” Civvie — Hoshina never lets you forget that you’re a civilian, but you don’t know it yet (you will, eventually), but Hoshina’s never actually been bothered about this fact. Actually, he takes pride in the idea that he’ll be the one to take care of you, the one to keep you safe. 

Right now, though, he’s tasked with being the one who makes sure you’re satiated.

You have the prettiest pussy Hoshina’s ever, and as his mouth descends onto your waiting heat, he determines that you’ve got the sweetest taste, too. You let out cute, little mewls that only motivate him to devour you some more, and he groans into your pussy as he laps at your arousal, your juices seeming to never stop flowing. 

Your body arches up, and Hoshina has to apply pressure to his grip on your thighs, to force you back down so he can continue licking at your cunt at his own hungry pace. When bucking your hips fails, you find yourself losing control of your body, your legs spasming, your thighs clamping down on his head. Your fingers tangle themselves into the thick, dark strands of Hoshina’s hair, and he thinks you’re trying to suffocate him with your pussy.

What a way to go, honestly. 

He manages to lift his head up, cheeks flushed from the heat in between your thighs, chin and lips wet with your juices. “Ahh.” He smacks his lips, licking up traces of your slick that his tongue can reach. “My civvie has the sweetest pussy in the world.” He inserts a finger into your wet hole, and you literally yelp. Your walls hungrily clamp down on his single digit, and he laughs. 

“D’ya want more?” He sounds innocent enough, almost as if he isn’t leisurely fucking you with one finger. “‘Cause I can give ya more. All ya have to do is ask.”

“Pl-ease.” The word comes out in broken syllables. You clutch at his bicep, nails digging into the material of his combat suit. It’s because he still has his uniform on that he can’t really feel you. 

“Who are ya askin’?” He teases, pumping his finger at the same agonizingly slow pace he’s been giving you. You keep clenching around him, your body making it obvious who you’re hungry for. 

“I-I’m asking Vice Captain Hos— Soshiro.”

You say his title, and he feels himself tightening in his combat suit. You say his name, and his heart nearly skips a beat.

Oh, he’ll give you everything he’s got, now.

The intrusion of three fingers inside your cunt catches you off guard, and he swallows up that shocked moan of yours by slotting his mouth against yours, kissing you with a vigorous passion that has you realizing that maybe Soshiro just might like you back. 

He spreads his fingers while they’re buried deep inside your cunt, trying to desperately stretch out your pussy, get you nice and wet and ready to take his cock. 

“Ah! Wait! No, ‘Shiro, please!” You protest as he pulls his fingers out, licking and savoring the taste of your essence. You were about to cum, and he knew it. 

He plants a rather chaste kiss on your forehead before telling you, “You hafta ask me to cum, okay? Can my little civvie baby get that in her head?” 

You nod weakly, sniffling a bit as you’re disappointed from your stolen orgasm. 

“Hey,” he taps on your cunt gently, but with just enough firm pressure to make you understand you have to look at him, to listen to his commands. “When your Vice Captain tells ya somethin’, ya need to answer. Where’s my baby’s manners?” 

“S-sorry, Vice Captain.” You look up at him, teary-eyed. “Can I please cum?” 

“Aw, you’re askin’ me so sweetly, it’s hard to say no to you.” But from the familiar mischievous glint in his eyes, it’s clear what his answer is. “But today, you’re only gonna be able to cum all over my cock.” 

Hoshina makes no effort to take off his clothes fully. The uniform that you admire him in is only being pulled out of the way rather than completely off. Hoshina messes with the bottom half, pulling at the suit until he can free his cock. He’s already hard, and he pumps his cock a few times, using the fingers covered in his spit and your slick to act as lube. 

“See how hard your Vice Captain is? My little civvie got me all fired up.” There’s a feral, crazed look in his eyes as he stares down at you, at how your legs are spread and your pussy is so wet. “This is what you wanted the whole time, huh? You wanted to be stuffed full of my cock. Poor baby.” His tone is mocking, but it only makes your hole clench at nothing. You’re so heartbreakingly empty of him that you’ll do anything to make sure he gives you what he promised. “I know, you must be all hot and bothered right now. Pussy so empty, waitin’ for me, huh?” 

You nod, tears streaming down your face. Hoshina chuckles at the sight. He hasn’t even fucked you properly yet, and you’re already a mess. Fuck, he loves you so much. 

When he presses the tip of his cock to your entrance, your pussy is instantly swallowing him up, greedy for more of him. So he gives in, because the two of you have clearly been wanting and waiting for this for so long, why bother dragging it out any further?

“A-ah.” Your legs are trembling as your pussy engulfs more and more of Hoshina’s thick cock. “It’s too big.” You whine out, more tears falling as you take him in completely, his whole entire cock buried deep inside of you, throbbing impatiently, insisting that he pins you down and fucks you hard and fast.

“It’ll be okay.” He reassures you, rubbing comforting circles on your hip. “I’ll make ya feel so good. Ya just gotta relax for me, baby. Remember? You’re the one who wanted this so badly.” He coos, moving his hand to rub at your clit, the little nub hardening for him. “Good girl, atta girl, that’s my precious civvie. Doin’ so good for me; I knew you would.” He praises you when he feels you start to move your hips a bit, begging for movement now, and he kisses your cheek when he feels your pussy yielding to his cock. “I’m going to fuck you now, baby.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to answer.

“You feel so good.” He grunts this directly in your ear, which rewards him with a cute little whimper from you, and the feel of your pussy clamping down on him, tightening and preening at the praise. He’s holding himself up by his elbows, his face so close to your own as he fucks you, just like how he promised he would. It’s sweetly intimate this way, and you love it. He can tell.

“Your pussy feels so good around my cock. So tight. So fuckin’ wet.” His thrusts are deep, powerful. His cock seems to reach into the depths of your pussy, and you don’t think you’ll ever recover. You don’t think you want to. 

You curl your arms around his neck, bringing him even closer to you. Your string of moans and broken sobs of his name haven’t stopped flowing from your lips, and the pleasure is so overwhelming, so good, so Hoshina. You don’t realize what he’s planning on doing until it’s too late. He licks at the soft skin between your shoulder and neck, deciding which spot he wants to mark up first, before taking his sharp canines, the ones you love so much, and digging them deep into your flesh. 

“Ah!” The pain bleeds in with the pleasure. The sting of his bite is heightened when he nuzzles your neck with his nose endearingly, almost as an apology, before he bites down in a different spot. Marking his territory. 

It feels so good in such a foreign way, you forget what your Vice Captain told you. If you want to cum, you have to ask. But he’s making you feel so good, your climax comes without warning. Your walls tighten up around him, and he can feel you, can feel you creaming around his cock like the dirty, disobedient girl you are.

“What did I tell ya?” He growls, looking down at where the two of you are connected. He pulls out a bit, just to stare at the ring of white encircling his cock. “Hm?” He takes a hand to grab at your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Is my little civvie so fucked dumb her brain doesn’t work anymore? I thought I told ya that if you wanted to cum, you better ask my permission.”

“I’m s-sorry!” You gasp out. “B-but you made me feel… Felt too good, I didn’t know I was going to!” You’re crying again now, and he almost feels bad. Instead, he likes this power he has over you, and he’s back to being his usual, teasing and mocking self. 

“Aw, did I break you?” He coos sweetly, pounding into your pussy with a fervor he hasn’t exhibited before. Your eyes widen when you realize he still has on his combat suit. He’s drawing out his strength from the suit, using it to fuck into you even harder. “S’okay, baby. No need to cry. I’m not mad at ya.” 

His hips stutter when he’s ready to finish. His thrusts falter in its usual pinpoint precise movements, and he drags your body towards him, pushing you deep onto his cock as he groans out your name. The heat of his cum fills your twitching, sensitive cunt, and you think you could probably cum again just from the pleasure of having Vice Captain Soshiro Hoshina fill you up. 

“Ah, fuck.” He breathes out, leaning his forehead against your own, panting a bit, his chest rising and falling. “You drive me crazy, ya know that?” 

You let out a weak giggle, equally breathless. Your mind feels a lot clearer now, the heat within you subsiding greatly. You wrap your legs around his slim waist, refusing to let him go even though he refuses to leave you in the first place. He looks like he’s about to say something until a familiar, booming voice comes from the front of your apartment.

“[Name]?” Gen calls out, his footsteps indicating that he’s coming closer. “[Name], where are you?” 

Your eyes widen in shock and fear, the cute afterglow of the moment officially ruined, all thanks to your annoying older brother. Hoshina is quick when he pulls the covers of your bed over your naked body, and he’s adjusting his combat suit as Gen makes it to your bedroom. 

You shut your eyes, not wanting to witness the expression on your brother’s face.

“Oh, Narumi.” Hoshina says brightly. “Funny runnin’ into you here.”