#he had to take that off and change back into his suit

[bunny-jpeg]

mrs. colapinto

franco colapinto

tags: smut/pwp, established relationship, loving!franco, curvy!reader, marriage, honeymoon, cowgirl position, clit teasing

no one knew who franco's sweetheart was. the argentinian driver had captured the world's heart, but who captured his heart? and oh, did you capture it. you were the air he breathed, the sun in the sky, a bright light in his soul. but, franco was protective of you. he didn't want to the world to poke and prod at you and your life. your education, your personality, your body.

france know that each inch was beautiful, every centimeter had been explored by his lips over the years. you were perfect, beyond perfect. he probably had your curves memorized like lines on a track. he could trace them with ease. so, he didn't need the input of fans or the press to determine if you were worth loving. franco knew that you were worth loving.

it was better that you could attend university in peace, that didn't mean that franco ignored you. he was texting you the second he could get his hands on his phone, you two were doing virtual dates when you were apart, and at the very least he could get you on facetime while you were snuggled in bed, on campus, or preparing (a late) dinner. it felt like the only time he could relax, while he was happy to have a shot at formula one. he missed the comfort of your small apartment, the home-cooked meals, how you'd ramble to him about your recent essay topic. to hear your voice. it was his personal heaven. every chance he could, he'd take photos of the cities he was in. he sent flowers every so often, and even got his hands on small souvenirs to send back home to you. you were on his mind during this sudden propelling into racing success.

if you couldn't go with him. then he'd simply bring the locations to you. as he once said to you, "anything for you, mrs. colapinto." then winked at you when your face went hot. he the laughed when you smacked him in the arms. it only made you face hot when franco mentioned marriage so casually. off handed comments to make you his bride. you knew you wanted to marry him, but everything felt too busy at the moment to take that next step. you didn't need him to feel the pressure of marriage on top of f1.

so it was a total shock when he proposed over a home-made dinner during a small break in the season. while you were about to enjoy the meal you made together, you caught sight of the small diamond in the ring. the way it caught the yellowing light of the dining area. you choked on your meal when he asked, "my love, will you marry me?" he put the velvet box down to hand you his water glass to help you swallow down the food, "i'm so sorry! i should've waited till after you ate!!" then when you stopped choking, you smiled between heavy breaths and he smiled too.

"franco." you said, you did get a little misty eyed when he rounded the table to put the ring on you. you kissed him deeply.

you two had your wedding during the off-season. it was a spur of a moment with few witnesses with dinner after. but word of the marriage wasn't kept quiet for long. people caught sight of you leaving the courthouse in white with franco in a suit. so you were franco's sweetheart, now his wife. everyone wanted to know who franco's little secret was. just a regular university student with no much of a social media presence. except for maybe a semi-active tubmlr, where many found out that you were a lewis hamilton fan. but other than that there was no personal information. but while you were on your honeymoon for the rest of the break, the press couldn't wait to get more information about you, and franco was more comfortable to formally introduce you. they juat had to be nice about it. you spent the break overseas and he happily kissed you in front of the cameras.

when you asked him what changed, he said, "you're my wife now! i want to show you off because if they are cruel, i can better stand up for you. protect you!" and then gave you what felt like a dozen kisses.

much of the honeymoon was spend in bed however, curled up in the rented apartment. the bed was soft and of course franco wanted to make you feel loved. to make love to his wife. hours spent against you. he loved when you rode him, the jolt of your body as you rolled your hips against him.

the heat got caught in your throat as you oved against him. you felt amazing as you made love- in all fairness, you sexual activity went from tender to rough fairly quickly.

"that's it, my love, my wife. you feel amazing, i am addicted to you." nothing else mattered in the bedroom except for your hips pressed against him and your hands on his chest. the feeling of you moving up and down on his cock with a needy want. his praise for you was heavy as you clenched around his cock, "beyond beautiful, my love. stunning. i knew i wanted to be with you the moment i met you. i love you, i love you."

"fuck, franco." you painted nails dug into his shoulders as you moved with all the force in your body.

his cock twitched inside of you, his words got filthier as the heat coursed through him quicker, "all mind, but you knew that. i'm so in love with you, there are zero words for it. never want or need anyone else. no, no, not when i have you. you're all mine just as i am yours." and met your pace. a sweet moan left his lips. you shifted against him and he only held onto you tighter. the headboard rocked against the wall a little. he wanted you all, and now as your husband, he could have it.

you didn't last much longer. you came first, then he did. and then, like a little devil, he teased your clit until you came once more. which made you tense up and kiss him deeply on the lips. you hissed, "fuck, honey."

"i know my love, you feel beautiful under my touch. as you should be." his voice laced with want and love, you were his and his only. you soon laid out with him in bed as the afternoon light shined through. he held you in his arms and you laid a hand on his chest. the diamond glimmered in the light as you laid curled up with your franco, your husband.

you stayed close to him, feeling his love as the two of you continued to enjoy your honeymoon together, some years in the making.

franco made a post the day after your honeymoon ended. with various photos throughout your relationship. you did however blush when you saw one of the photos, when you two were still teenagers, when right before when he moved to italy. there was you in his old racing helmet, you at his birthday party doing drunk karaoke together, and a finally a photo when you went to an art gallery together. an additional photo was posted of you on the bus with him to the williams headquarters. the caption read, "you have brought life into my world, let's always grow and love alongside each other. my beautiful, mrs. colapinto." <3

[novaursa]

A Lion's Folly (duty)

- Summary: A story where a lion falls for the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, you.

- Pairing: stark!reader/Jaime Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: the price

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @butterflygxril @lordofthunderthr @mrsnms @itisjustwhatitis

Jaime approached Cersei’s chambers. His steps were slow, deliberate, each one a reminder of the conversation he’d been avoiding for days. Confronting his father about leaving the Kingsguard and marrying you had been difficult, but this… this was something else entirely.

He reached her door, the ornate lion carving glaring back at him like a silent judge. Taking a deep breath, he pushed it open without knocking.

Cersei was standing by the window, her hair catching the last rays of the sun as it spilled into the room. She turned at the sound of the door, her face immediately hardening when she saw him.

"Jaime," she said, her voice low and cold. "You dare to come here?"

Before he could respond, she crossed the room in three quick strides and slapped him hard across the face. The loud crack echoed in the stillness, but Jaime didn’t flinch. He stood there, his cheek stinging, as she glared up at him with eyes blazing.

"You promised me," she hissed, her voice trembling with fury. "You swore you’d always stay by my side. That nothing would come between us. And now? Now you throw it all away—for her?"

Jaime’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent, letting her words wash over him.

"For a Stark," she spat, the word dripping with venom. "For that girl you barely know, with her pretty face and her noble airs. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you’ve changed since Winterfell. Even then, you were weak for her."

"It’s not like that," Jaime said finally, his voice calm but strained. "This isn’t about her—"

"Don’t lie to me!" Cersei shouted, cutting him off. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her chest heaving as she struggled to contain her rage. "You think I don’t know you? You think I can’t see what’s happening? You’ve convinced yourself that there’s some… bond between you. That she’s different. Better. That you can save her, and somehow, that will make you whole again."

Jaime looked away, his lips pressing into a thin line. Cersei’s words were cruel, but they struck dangerously close to the truth.

"You’re pathetic," she continued, her voice dripping with disdain. "You think this will make Father proud? That throwing away everything we’ve built—everything we are—for her will somehow redeem you? You’re fooling yourself, Jaime."

"It’s not about redemption," Jaime said quietly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. He turned to face her fully, his gaze meeting hers. "It’s about doing what’s right."

Cersei let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Right? You? Since when do you care about what’s right? You killed the king you swore to protect. You pushed a child out of a window to protect us. Don’t pretend you’re some noble hero now, Jaime. It doesn’t suit you."

"I’m not pretending," Jaime said firmly. "I’m trying to be better. And maybe it’s too late for that, but I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep living for you."

The silence that followed was deafening. For the first time, Cersei seemed genuinely stunned. Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the anger gave way to something else—hurt, perhaps, or disbelief.

"You don’t mean that," she said softly, her voice trembling. "You can’t mean that."

Jaime exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of his words had drained him. "I do," he said quietly. "Cersei… we’ve been lying to ourselves for years. This—us—it’s not what it used to be. And maybe it never was."

Her expression hardened again, her eyes narrowing as tears glistened unshed. "So, this is it?" she asked bitterly. "You’re walking away? For her?"

"This isn’t about her," Jaime said, though he wasn’t sure if that was entirely true. "This is about me. About what I want. And what I want… isn’t this."

Cersei stared at him for a long moment, her face a mask of fury and heartbreak. Then she turned away, her voice low and venomous. "Get out."

Jaime hesitated, his good hand clenching at his side. He had loved her once—had lived for her. But now, standing here, he realized that love had become something twisted, something that no longer felt like love at all.

Without another word, he turned and left, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

As he walked back through the dim corridors of the Red Keep, Jaime felt an unexpected sense of liberation. The weight that had hung over him for so long, the chains that had bound him to Cersei, seemed to loosen with every step. It wasn’t a clean break—nothing ever was—but it was a start.

Jaime Lannister felt like he was finally free.

The training yard in the Red Keep was quiet in the early morning, the sun still low in the sky. The usual bustle of squires and guards was absent, leaving the space empty save for Jaime and Bronn. The loud clang of steel against steel echoed across the yard, followed by the grunts of effort and muttered curses.

“Keep your wrist steady,” Bronn said, stepping back to observe Jaime’s stance. He twirled his own blade lazily, the smirk on his face widening as Jaime adjusted his grip on the practice sword.

“I am keeping it steady,” Jaime snapped, his tone sharper than his strikes.

“Doesn’t look like it from here,” Bronn replied, dodging Jaime’s next swing with infuriating ease. “You’re too stiff. Relax a bit, will you? Or do you want me to carve you up like one of those roasted pigs in the kitchens?”

Jaime huffed, his left arm trembling slightly from the strain of holding the sword. Every move felt wrong—awkward and unbalanced, as if his body had yet to accept that this was his only option now.

Bronn stepped closer, rapping Jaime’s blade with his own. “Again,” he ordered. “And this time, don’t hold the damn thing like it’s about to bite you.”

Jaime adjusted his grip, narrowing his eyes as he swung again. Bronn blocked effortlessly, his smirk never faltering.

“You’re improving,” Bronn said casually, sidestepping another strike. “Still terrible, but less terrible than last time.”

“Glad to know I’m meeting your high standards,” Jaime muttered, his tone dry.

Bronn grinned, lowering his blade momentarily. “So, word around the Keep is you’re leaving the Kingsguard. Trading white cloak for lordly robes, huh?”

Jaime stiffened, lowering his sword. “Let me guess—Tyrion told you.”

“He might’ve mentioned it,” Bronn admitted, his grin widening. “Said something about you giving up the sword for a girl. Didn’t think you were the type, Kingslayer.”

Jaime glared at him, raising his sword again. “Tyrion talks too much.”

“Maybe,” Bronn said with a shrug. “But he’s not wrong, is he? Leaving all that glory behind for… what, exactly? A pretty face?”

Jaime lunged, his swing harder this time, though Bronn blocked it easily.

“It’s not about that,” Jaime snapped, his irritation bleeding into his movements.

“No?” Bronn asked, dodging another strike. “So, it’s not about the Stark girl? Not about making sure she doesn’t end up flayed alive by Bolton? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

Jaime gritted his teeth, his swings growing more forceful. Bronn danced around him, letting the blows glance off his blade with practiced ease.

“Careful now,” Bronn said with a chuckle. “You’ll wear yourself out before you’ve even started. And I’d hate to see you keel over before you’ve convinced her to stop hating your guts.”

Jaime froze for a split second, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “She doesn’t hate me,” he said, though the uncertainty in his voice betrayed him.

“Doesn’t she?” Bronn countered, stepping closer. “From what I hear, she’s not exactly thrilled about this whole arrangement. Can’t blame her, really. A Stark marrying a Lannister? That’s the kind of thing that makes bards weep.”

Jaime swung again, the force behind his strike making Bronn take a step back.

“And how’s Cersei taking it?” Bronn asked, his tone deliberately casual. “Bet she didn’t like hearing you’re shacking up with someone else. Especially not a Stark.”

Jaime’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. He feinted left before swinging right, his strike glancing off Bronn’s blade.

“Hit a nerve, did I?” Bronn asked, grinning. “Let me guess—she slapped you, screamed a bit, told you you’d regret it. Am I close?”

Jaime lowered his sword slightly, his chest heaving from the effort. “Cersei’s reaction doesn’t matter,” he said curtly.

Bronn tilted his head, his grin fading slightly as he studied Jaime. “Doesn’t it? Funny, I’d have thought you’d care more about her opinion.”

Jaime’s silence spoke volumes, and Bronn’s smirk returned, sharper this time. “Ah,” he said, his tone laced with amusement. “It’s not Cersei you’re worried about, is it? You’re more concerned about what Y/N thinks.”

Jaime didn’t respond, his gaze hardening as he raised his sword again.

“Careful, Jaime,” Bronn said, his voice lower now, almost serious. “You keep thinking about her like that, and you’ll end up doing something stupid. Like falling in love.”

Jaime lunged again, but this time, Bronn disarmed him with a swift twist of his wrist. Jaime’s practice sword clattered to the ground, and Bronn stepped back, grinning.

“Not bad,” Bronn said, nodding approvingly. “Still need work, though. Lots of work.”

Jaime glared at him, retrieving his sword. “We’re done for today.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Bronn said with a mock bow, his grin never fading.

Jaime turned and walked away, his thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and confusion. Bronn’s words lingered in his mind, poking at something he wasn’t ready to confront.

But as much as he tried to push it aside, the truth was undeniable: you had taken up residence in his thoughts, and there was no escaping it.

The solar was warm, the golden light of the afternoon spilling through the tall windows, glinting off the polished wood and gilded ornaments that adorned Tywin Lannister’s private chambers. Jaime sat in a high-backed chair near his father’s desk, his gaze fixed on the servant kneeling before him, carefully securing the golden prosthetic Tywin had commissioned to replace his hand.

The weight of the metal was heavier than Jaime had expected, its surface smooth and cold against the sensitive skin of his stump. The fingers were articulated, though they served no practical purpose. It was a symbol, more than anything else—a statement of wealth and power, a reminder to anyone who saw it that Jaime Lannister, even diminished, was still a lion.

Tywin sat across from him, his pale green eyes watching the process with an air of detached satisfaction. He looked every inch the lord of Casterly Rock, his posture straight, his hands folded neatly on the desk in front of him.

“It suits you,” Tywin said finally, breaking the silence.

Jaime glanced down at the golden hand, flexing the wrist experimentally. “It’s flashy,” he remarked, his tone dry. “Almost garish. I suppose that’s the point.”

Tywin’s expression didn’t change. “It’s a reminder of who you are. A Lannister. Even in loss, you project strength.”

Jaime let out a faint scoff, though he didn’t argue. The servants stepped back, bowing as they left the room, leaving father and son alone.

“You’ve adjusted well,” Tywin said, his tone even but firm. “That’s good. There’s much to be done.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “I assume this is the part where you outline my duties as the prodigal heir?”

Tywin ignored the sarcasm, reaching for a stack of documents on the desk. “Your position will require careful management. I expect you to oversee the transition of power at Casterly Rock. Your presence there will reinforce our authority, particularly with the unrest in the Westerlands.”

Jaime nodded slowly, though his gaze remained distant. The idea of returning to Casterly Rock, to the place he had left behind so long ago, felt strange. Foreign.

“And,” Tywin continued, “there’s the matter of the upcoming wedding.”

“Joffrey’s and Margaery’s,” Jaime said, his tone growing sharper. “Yes, I’m well aware.”

Tywin’s gaze didn’t waver. “After the wedding, there will be another announcement.”

Jaime stiffened, his jaw tightening. “The betrothal.”

“Yes,” Tywin said, his tone calm but final. “Yours and Y/N Stark’s. The timing is ideal. With all the noble houses gathered for the king’s wedding, the news of your union will send a clear message: the North may be fractured, but it is still under Lannister control.”

Jaime exhaled slowly, his golden hand resting heavily in his lap. “And what does Y/N think of this grand anoucment?”

Tywin’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Her opinion, while noted, is irrelevant. She is a Stark. Her value lies in her name, her bloodline. She will understand her role in time.”

Jaime clenched his teeth, his gaze darkening. “She’s not a pawn, Father.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed, his voice hardening. “She is whatever I need her to be. You may have developed a misguided sense of sentimentality, but I do not share your weakness. This union is about strategy, not affection.”

The words stung more than Jaime cared to admit, but he forced himself to remain calm. “And what exactly do you intend to say to her?”

Tywin leaned back in his chair, his gaze cold and calculating. “I will speak with her personally. She needs to understand the importance of this alliance, the role she is to play. I expect you to keep your emotions in check, Jaime. This is not a negotiation.”

Jaime’s hand tightened into a fist, his golden prosthetic gleaming in the sunlight. “She’s not going to agree easily,” he said quietly.

“She doesn’t have to,” Tywin replied, his tone final.

The room fell into silence, the weight of Tywin’s words settling heavily between them. Jaime’s thoughts churned, a mixture of frustration, guilt, and an unwelcome sense of helplessness.

Finally, Tywin stood, his movements precise as he gathered the documents on his desk. “The wedding is in three days,” he said. “You will attend, you will conduct yourself with dignity, and you will ensure that this house remains united.”

Jaime nodded stiffly, rising from his chair. “Anything else, Father?”

Tywin’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before he spoke. “Yes. Remember who you are, Jaime. And what you represent.”

Jaime turned and left the room, the golden hand heavy at his side. As he walked down the corridor, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He had always thought he understood his father—his cold pragmatism, his relentless pursuit of power. But now, standing on the precipice of a life he chose to save you, Jaime couldn’t help but wonder if there was still a way to claim something for himself.

And if there wasn’t, he wondered if he could live with the man he was becoming.

You sat by the window, arms crossed, staring out at the distant horizon. The door creaked open behind you, and you turned sharply, your features hardening when you saw who had entered.

Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, strode into the room with the air of a man who owned everything he set his eyes upon. His lion brooch gleamed against his crimson doublet, and his gaze, as sharp and cold as ever, settled on you.

"You seem comfortable," Tywin said, his tone devoid of warmth as he gestured to the sparse chamber. "I trust your accommodations are adequate."

You stood, your expression icy. "They’re a cell, no matter how you dress it up. But I doubt you came here to discuss my comfort."

Tywin inclined his head slightly, acknowledging your sharpness without reacting to it. "Indeed, I did not. I came to speak to you about the future."

You crossed your arms, refusing to be intimidated. "Jaime already informed me of your so-called plans for my future. My answer hasn’t changed. I’d rather die than marry him."

Tywin didn’t flinch, his face as impassive as stone. He stepped closer, clasping his hands behind his back. "You may find that choice taken out of your hands, Lady Stark. This union is not about your personal desires. It is about strategy, stability, and the survival of your family’s name."

"My family’s name?" you scoffed, anger flaring in your voice. "You destroyed my family! You orchestrated the death of my father, you allowed the Boltons to betray my brother, and now you dare to speak of my family’s survival?"

Tywin’s gaze didn’t waver, his voice calm and measured. "The war destroyed your family, not I. I merely ensured that House Lannister would emerge stronger from the ashes. And now, I am offering you a chance to secure what remains of your legacy."

"My legacy doesn’t need securing by you," you snapped. "And certainly not through marriage to Jaime Lannister. He may have convinced himself he’s doing this to protect me, but I see the truth. This is about your power, your games. I won’t be your tool."

Tywin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression growing colder. "You misunderstand, my lady. This is not a negotiation. Your marriage to Jaime is a necessity, and it will happen. Your consent, while preferable, is not required."

You clenched your fists, your chest heaving with frustration. "You’re no better than Bolton," you said, your voice trembling with anger. "You speak of honor and stability, but all you care about is control. You think you can break me the way you’ve broken others, but you won’t."

Tywin stepped closer, his towering presence filling the room. "This is not about breaking you, Lady Stark. It is about ensuring your survival. You may not see it now, but this marriage is the best option for you. For your sister. For whatever remnants of your house remain."

"I don’t want your protection," you spat.

"That much is clear," Tywin said evenly. "But your wants are irrelevant. You are a Stark of Winterfell, and your name carries weight—weight that must be used wisely. Refusing this union would be foolish. And I do not tolerate foolishness."

You turned away, your shoulders trembling as you fought to keep your composure. The room felt suffocating, the walls pressing in as Tywin’s words loomed over you like a shadow.

"I won’t forgive this," you said finally, your voice low but firm. "Not you. Not Jaime. Not any of you."

Tywin inclined his head slightly, as if acknowledging a fact that held no consequence to him. "Forgiveness is not required," he said. "Only compliance."

The room fell into a heavy silence as his words lingered in the air. Tywin stepped back toward the door, pausing briefly before he left.

"You have three days to prepare yourself," he said. "After the king’s wedding, your betrothal will be announced. I suggest you consider your position carefully. Good day, Lady Stark."

The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving you alone in the quiet, your chest burning with a mixture of fury and helplessness.

Three days.

You stared at the window again, the world beyond seeming farther away than ever. But despite the storm raging inside you, one thought burned brighter than the rest.

You would find a way out of this. No matter the cost.

The midday sun poured through the windows of your chambers the next day. You sat by the window, staring out at the distant horizon, your thoughts a swirling storm of anger and despair. The faint sound of footsteps approached, and you stiffened as the door creaked open behind you.

Turning your head slightly, you weren’t surprised to see Jaime standing there, his golden hand catching the sunlight and gleaming like a trophy. He leaned against the doorframe, his expression unreadable.

“Lady Stark,” he greeted, his tone light but cautious. “I come bearing news.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” you said flatly, turning your gaze back to the window.

Jaime stepped further into the room, his boots clicking softly against the stone floor. “It seems my father has granted you some leniency. You’re allowed to leave your chambers.”

You looked at him sharply, suspicion flickering in your eyes. “Under what conditions?”

Jaime smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “An escort, of course. You didn’t think Tywin would simply let you wander the Red Keep freely, did you?”

“I suppose I didn’t,” you replied, your voice tight. “And I assume you’ve graciously volunteered to be my shadow.”

“Graciously, no,” Jaime admitted. “But I thought you might appreciate some fresh air. The gardens are quiet this time of day, and we could... talk.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your suspicion deepening. “Talk? About what, exactly? My upcoming forced marriage? Or perhaps you’d like to reminisce about Winterfell and the time you pushed my brother from a tower?”

Jaime flinched slightly, the smirk falling from his face. “I deserve that,” he said quietly. “But I thought you might prefer to have this conversation somewhere other than here. Unless, of course, you’d rather stay cooped up in this charming little cell.”

You glared at him, the temptation to refuse clear in your expression. But the thought of stepping outside, even briefly, was too enticing to ignore. With a sharp exhale, you stood, brushing past him without a word.

Jaime followed you into the corridor, his steps measured and deliberate. The silence stretched between you as you walked, the distant hum of activity in the Red Keep filling the void. Finally, Jaime broke the silence.

“You’ve been here for days,” he said, his tone softer now. “I thought you’d want the chance to breathe.”

You shot him a sidelong glance, your lips pressing into a thin line. “And I’m sure your father approved of this... gesture.”

“Not exactly,” Jaime admitted, his smirk returning faintly. “But he didn’t object, which is as close to approval as Tywin Lannister gets.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze fixed ahead as you descended a flight of stairs. Jaime studied you from the corner of his eye, noting the tension in your posture, the way your hands clenched at your sides. He wanted to say something, to ease the burden he could see weighing on you, but every word he thought of felt inadequate.

As you neared the doors leading to the gardens, Jaime hesitated briefly before speaking again. “Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a note of sincerity that caught you off guard.

You stopped, turning to face him, your expression guarded. “What?”

Jaime met your gaze, his own softened by something you couldn’t quite place. “I know you don’t trust me,” he said, his tone steady. “And I don’t blame you. But for what it’s worth, I meant what I said. I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”

Your eyes narrowed, your voice sharp. “Protect me? From what? From your family? From the man you’re forcing me to marry? Oh, wait, that’s you.”

Jaime winced, the barb hitting its mark. “I know,” he said quietly. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me. But... I’m trying, Y/N. For whatever that’s worth.”

You stared at him for a moment, searching his face for any sign of deception. But all you saw was a man weighed down by guilt and something that almost resembled regret.

Without a word, you turned and continued walking, leaving Jaime to follow in silence.

The gardens were a riot of color, their vibrant blooms softened by the afternoon light. The air was thick with the scent of roses, lavender, and freshly turned earth. You walked a few paces ahead of Jaime, your shoulders stiff and your hands clenched tightly at your sides. The gravel path crunched underfoot, and the faint chirping of birds filled the silence between you.

Jaime, keeping pace just behind you, broke the quiet. “It’s strange,” he said, his voice softer than you were used to.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, your expression guarded. “What’s strange?”

He gestured vaguely to the gardens around him. “Walking through here without a duty hanging over my head. No orders to follow, no kings to protect.” He paused, flexing his golden hand absently. “I can’t remember the last time I walked through these gardens simply… to walk.”

You raised an eyebrow, your tone sharp. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you, Jaime? That your life as a Kingslayer and Lannister golden boy hasn’t been a constant stroll through roses?”

Jaime stopped, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No,” he admitted. “I don’t expect your sympathy. I just… thought I’d share.”

Your eyes narrowed, but you turned back to the path, continuing onward. “Well, don’t,” you said curtly.

Jaime followed, the faintest chuckle escaping him. “You have a sharp tongue, Y/N. I think it might be sharper than your brother’s sword.”

“That sharpness has served me well,” you replied coolly. “Especially when dealing with Lannisters.”

The hostility between you eased slightly as you walked further, the path winding through rose-laden trellises and carefully pruned hedges. But the moment was short-lived. As you turned a corner, your gaze landed on a small group gathered around a table beneath a shaded pavilion.

At the center of the group was Lady Olenna Tyrell, her distinctive headdress unmistakable, flanked by Margaery and Sansa. Servants flitted around them, pouring wine and arranging plates of fruit and sweets. Several of Margaery’s ladies-in-waiting sat nearby, chatting and laughing softly.

It was Sansa who saw you first. Her face lit up, her blue eyes wide with surprise and joy. She pushed her chair back abruptly, nearly knocking over a goblet in her haste. “Y/N!” she exclaimed, her voice carrying across the garden.

Lady Olenna’s keen eyes flicked toward you, her lips curling into a faintly amused smile. “Well, well,” she said, her voice dry but not unkind. “It seems we have unexpected visitors. Come closer, dear, and bring Ser Jaime with you. Don’t linger in the shadows like conspirators.”

You hesitated, glancing at Jaime, who looked equally uncertain. He raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Well, it seems we’ve been summoned,” he said lightly.

You sighed, bracing yourself as you stepped forward. Jaime followed close behind.

As you approached, Sansa moved toward you, her hands reaching out to clasp yours. “Y/N,” she said again, her voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t know you were allowed out of your chambers.”

“Only under escort,” you replied, your tone clipped as you glanced at Jaime.

Lady Olenna watched the exchange with obvious interest, her shrewd gaze flicking between you and Jaime. “Quite the escort,” she remarked, her tone laced with dry amusement. “Ser Jaime, it’s rare to see you outside the Red Keep without your sister at your side.”

Jaime inclined his head slightly, his smirk faint. “A pleasure to see you as always, Lady Olenna.”

“Is it?” Olenna replied, her tone cutting but not cruel. “I suppose even Lannisters can appreciate good company now and then.” She turned her gaze back to you, her expression softening slightly. “And you, my dear. You look well for someone who’s been hidden away like a prized relic. Sit. Both of you.”

You hesitated, but Sansa’s pleading expression was enough to sway you. Reluctantly, you took a seat beside her, Jaime settling into a chair opposite you.

Margaery offered you a warm smile, her hands folded neatly in her lap. “It’s wonderful to see you, Y/N,” she said graciously. “Sansa has spoken of you often.”

You returned her smile with a faint nod, though your focus remained on Sansa. “Are you well?” you asked her quietly.

Sansa nodded, her voice soft. “I am, for now.”

Jaime remained quiet, his gaze flicking between you and the Tyrells as the conversation continued. Despite the tension that lingered in the air, he found himself strangely at ease.

The servants poured more wine into the goblets on the table as you settled into your seat, the scent of fresh roses mingling with the sweetness of ripe fruit arranged artfully on silver platters. Lady Olenna studied you and Jaime, her lips quirking in faint amusement as Margaery leaned in to speak with you and Sansa.

“You’re fortunate to be out of those dreary chambers, Y/N,” Margaery said warmly, her hands folded gracefully in her lap. “The Red Keep can feel so suffocating, don’t you think?”

You nodded slightly, your tone clipped. “More like a gilded cage. I wouldn’t call it fortunate.”

Margaery’s smile faltered slightly, but Lady Olenna’s laugh cut through the air. “Spoken like a true Stark,” she said. “Blunt as a hammer and just as subtle.”

Jaime smirked faintly, leaning back in his chair. “She’s certainly mastered the art of subtlety. Why use a knife when a sledgehammer will do?”

You shot him a glare, your fingers curling around the stem of your goblet. “And why speak at all when silence is an option, Ser Jaime?”

Lady Olenna chuckled, her gaze darting between the two of you. “Oh, this is delightful. I can see why you’re escorting her, Jaime. It’s not every day you find someone who can keep up with your wit.”

Jaime tilted his head, his golden hand resting lightly on the table. “I’d say it’s more a matter of survival than wit. She’s had plenty of practice hating Lannisters.”

“And for good reason,” you snapped. “It seems you lot make it your life’s work to ruin everything you touch.”

Jaime’s smirk faltered, and for a moment, his gaze softened. “Not everything,” he said quietly.

Lady Olenna raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the exchange. “I must say, the two of you make quite the spectacle. It’s been some time since I’ve seen a proper sparring match outside a tournament.”

Margaery glanced at her grandmother, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Perhaps we should give them swords, Grandmother. It might make things more interesting.”

Jaime chuckled lightly, his eyes flicking to Margaery. “That wouldn’t be fair to Y/N. I’d hate to embarrass her.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist the bait. “Embarrass me? I’ve seen your swordsmanship, Ser Jaime. Perhaps you should focus on keeping that golden hand attached before you worry about embarrassing anyone else.”

Sansa stifled a giggle beside you, her expression brightening at the familiar bickering. “You haven’t changed at all, Y/N,” she said softly, a touch of relief in her voice.

Jaime’s smirk returned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “And here I thought we were making progress.”

“Progress?” you scoffed, setting your goblet down with a clink. “You mistake tolerance for progress. The only reason I’m sitting here is because your father hasn’t given me much choice.”

Lady Olenna leaned forward slightly, her sharp eyes glinting with mischief. “Ah, Tywin. Always so practical. But tell me, Y/N, how do you find his golden son? Has he been insufferable as ever?”

You met Olenna’s gaze with a faint smile, your tone dry. “If anything, he’s more insufferable now. The golden hand’s only made his ego worse.”

Jaime placed his hand over his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, my lady. And here I thought we were bonding.”

“Bonding?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what you call this?”

Lady Olenna chuckled, her laughter cutting through the tension like a knife. “Oh, I do enjoy you, Y/N. You’re exactly the sort of entertainment this dull court needs. If only we could bottle your wit and sell it to the Tyrells.”

Margaery smiled, though her gaze lingered on Jaime for a moment. “And you, Ser Jaime? How do you find Lady Stark? She seems to have quite the talent for keeping you on your toes.”

Jaime hesitated, his smirk softening as his gaze flicked toward you. “She’s… spirited,” he said finally. “A rare trait in the Red Keep.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure whether to take the comment as a compliment or an insult. Before you could respond, Lady Olenna clapped her hands together, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Well, I must say, this has been thoroughly entertaining,” she said. “But don’t let us keep you from your walk, Jaime. Do try to keep her out of trouble, won’t you?”

Jaime rose from his chair, offering a faint bow. “I’ll do my best, Lady Olenna. Though I make no promises.”

As you stood to follow him, Sansa reached out to squeeze your hand, her eyes shining with unspoken gratitude. You offered her a faint smile before turning to leave, Jaime falling into step beside you as you exited the pavilion.

The faint sound of Olenna’s laughter followed you down the path, her sharp wit lingering in the air like a pleasant sting. For the first time in days, you felt a flicker of warmth, even if it was fleeting.

Jaime walked in silence beside you, his smirk faint but genuine. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but feel that something between you had shifted, though you couldn’t quite name what it was.

[lostintransist]

The Boys' Home | Part 5

Part 1 | AO3

The suit, respirator, goggles, gloves combo had you sweating like the devil in church. This wouldn’t necessarily be a problem, except your in-ear headphones were overheating and not responding to your taps to change the song. Somehow you had been stuck on the same song for damn near forty minutes. It was a good song, don’t get it twisted, but if it didn’t require leaving the house and pulling off all the gear to change the song you would have done it on the third repeat.

With the last of the lathe and plaster removed and swept from the room, you detach the chute from the window. Carefully you strip off the protective gear, clothes soaked with sweat beneath them. The next thing you do is pull your headphones out and pause your music. Sliding between the layers of plastic keeping the dust from invading the house you make your way outside to breathe fresh air.

The boys were all at Lydia Fisher’s house as her grandchildren had finally arrived for the summer stay. You had already confirmed with Lydia that the pizza delivery you were paying for would arrive at five and she would send the boys home at seven. They would absolutely all need a bath before bed.

When you open the front door all of your focus is on laying out the gear to dry over the porch railing. The respirator and the goggles go down easily, the suit gives a wet sound when you snap it to straighten out all the wrinkles. That done you look up and nearly have a heart attack.

“Jesus and a chicken!” Your hand ends up on your chest as you heave in breaths.

Where you had expected empty space stood three of your neighbors, all watching you with various expressions of quandary.

“Why a chicken?” Kyle asked as he shoved one hand into his pocket.

Your brows pull together. “I don’t know, that is what came out of my mouth in a moment of shock.”

He gives a look of acknowledgment and glances at his counterparts.

“Did you guys need something? I’ve been upstairs stripping a bedroom to get insulation and new walls put up.” You brush your hands down your shirt, now quite aware that even in the moist heat your pits, under boob, and groin had yet to dry.

“Wanted to see if there were any neighborhood events we should be aware of,” Johnny spoke up, moseying up to the porch railing and hanging over it to talk to you.

You leaned against the main post, folding your arms as you thought.

“Nothing formal, but every third weekend a few families get together over at my place and we grill and let the kids run wild.” You direct your answers to the group but look mostly at Johnny.

Simon and Kyle step closer, like wolves you had watched on nature documentaries. When they close in you snap your gaze to Kyle and then to Simon. It gets trapped on Simon, the dark pitch of his eyes pulling you in like tar that swallowed ice-age animals whole.

“You need anything, bonnie?”

The hum of question you give is distracted. Turning your face away from Simon, it takes extra effort to drag your gaze to Johnny. Blinking a few times to clear your mind you process what you heard.

“Mmm, don’t think so. Unless you guys can sheet rock and mud a bedroom in under a day?”

Johnny grinned and Kyle chuckled, Simon let out a small huff that could be construed as a laugh.

“Can’t say we know how yet, but we will by the time we are done fixing up our own house,” Kyle smirks up at you.

“Been meaning to ask you about that. Are you all together or just really good friends?” They share a look and you go on, bulldozing past any awkwardness creeping up your body like kudzu. “I only ask because folks around here will talk and if I can head off the rumors your time here will be easier. Lord only knows why I’m their favorite subject.”

“Na, we work together. Military stuff and we find it easier to feel safe when we know there is someone who can watch our back as we rest,” Johnny gives a small smile to the gaps between the porch slats.

Nodding as if you understand, you most assuredly do not, you tuck that information away for your next run-in with any of the town gossips, Cherrie and Marline. They would be after you like hens after a chick when they found out you were now living next door two four presumably eligible, and decidedly, attractive bachelors.

‘What about your everlasting soul? Living so close to such men might tempt you into sin.’ They would always whisper the word sin as if one woman’s boy hadn’t been born out of wedlock and the other hadn’t been caught having an affair ten years back. One of these days you would remind the two of them of what Jesus actually called a sin, and it wasn’t ‘treating your neighbor as yourself’.

“Where are your boys today?” Simon speaks up now, everyone turning to look at him as he stares straight at you.

“They are at the Fisher’s. Lydia’s grandchildren have arrived and we have a standing agreement to timeshare the children until school starts back up,” you grin wide thinking about your boys. “I don’t know if you’ve met them yet, they live in the opposite direction from my house.”

Your former pastor had commented on it once. You didn’t go to church anymore, for too many damn reasons to recall or recount but Pastor Harry had been a good man and reminded you that there were people in the world who practiced what they preached.

“I know you never wanted to be a mom, but those boys? I can see the love you have for them written all over your face when you talk about them. I’m real proud of you for taking them in and fighting for them,” he laid a hand on your shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

The quiet comfort and confidence Pastor Harry had given you that day had fueled you for weeks and helped you swat away the nastier comments lobbed your way from parents of your students, the administration, and even the cashier at the local stop and rob.

Looking back to the men standing in the heat of the day you make a decision.

“Why don’t y’all take a seat and I’ll grab us all some sweet tea and ice pops.” Turning around without waiting for an answer you let the screen door slam shut behind you.

When you return the only seat available is next to Simon on the porch swing. Passing each man a refreshment you settle into the cushion and try to toe the swing into motion. When nothing happens you glance at Simon who is staring at your nice glass with something akin to mistrust in his eyes.

“You don’t have to drink it but can you at least lift your feet so I can rock the swing?” The single brow lift seems to do the trick.

“This is delicious!” Johnny cries as he stares down at his glass. “Never got the appeal of hot tea but this? I will miss this when we go back to work.”

The swing begins a soft back-and-forth movement. Glancing down you see Simon’s boot flat on the porch; his thigh bunches and releases in time with the movement.

“What do you think Kyle?” Sipping at your own tea you watch him for an answer.

“Might need this recipe for my mum, to be frank.” He looks down at his glass with a mixture of pleased concern written across his face.

“Be happy to send you with a recipe card.” You can’t wipe the smile from your face. Your front porch didn’t get as much use as you would like, they were the first visitors to use it this year.

Kyle and Johnny chat with you for nearly a half hour before by the winding down of the conversation the men stand in tandem. They all trail into the house to deposit their glasses in the sink before saying their goodbyes and rounding the house for the trail that would lead them back to their own home.

Placing your cup in the sink next to theirs you are surprised to see three empty glasses and a bone-dry sink. Seems the quiet man had sipped at his drink after all.

You would need to be sure to offer it again. Best to be sure if he liked it or if his mother had taught him it would be rude to reject an offer of a refreshment. Neither said anything bad about a person but it would help future interactions to know what your neighbors liked.

Boys Masterlist | Masterlist

@leahnicole1219 @harperstyles @sigynxlokiwifelover @fluffysmiko

[kteezy997]

Beyond Business-part seven//t.c.

Warnings:yearning, sexual tension, flirting undertones, kissing, cursing

The following week leading up to the Golden Globes, Timmy took every opportunity to get close to you.

You got a paper cut, resulting in the tiniest little cut on your hand, but he insisted on being your little nurse. “Come here let me see.” he said, taking your hand to the sink to run it under some cold water. He held your hand, pretending to examine the cut. You tried to hold in a giggle while this was happening. It was hard.

He even put a bandaid on your hand. “Timmy there’s not even any blood and the bandage will be in the way when I do things.” you laughed.

“I don’t care. I have to take care of you.” he asserted. Once he got the bandaid adhered to his liking, he pressed a kiss to the barely-there wound. “All better.” he grinned.

It seemed every other time he had to stand next to you, his hand nonchalantly found its way to rest on your lower back.

There was one time when he brushed your hair off of your shoulder, and let the pads of his fingers trickle along the side of your neck, slowly, giving you shivers.

“Timothée.” you warned in that moment, but you were weak in the attempt.

“I know.” he answered. There was melancholy in his voice. But he perked back up after a moment, saying, “Hey, I got you something to wear to the Globes.” He moved quickly to his coat closet nearby.

“Oh? That’s not necessary Timmy, I’m sure I have something.” you insisted, following him.

“Shhh.” he hushed you, grabbing a garment bag off the rod in the closet. He handed it over to you, that damn grin all over his face.

“Timmy, I-I’m just an assistant.” you reluctantly took the dress from him, “I don’t need anything special.”

“You are much more than just an assistant to me. Anyway, it’s nothing crazy, but I thought the color would nice on you. Try it on and show me.”

You winced, “Ugh, this is silly. I don’t need this kind of attention.”

“Go, bathroom, now.” he demanded.

You mumbled a protest on your way to the bathroom to change.

………

You were surprised that he knew your size. The dress fit really well. It was almost as if you picked it out yourself.

Timmy was right: the color did suit you, and the length wasn’t too short or anything.

“I told you to come back out so I can see it.” he called from the other room.

You sighed. This was not something you did;parade in front of a man. But it was Timmy, so maybe it would be okay. And anyway, he wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer right now.

You exited the bathroom, feeling a little shy, being so dressed up in front him.

“Whoa.” he said, his eyes widened.

“Does it look bad? I think it’s kinda nice. I like the color and the flowers, and the sleeves.” you rambled a bit, thinking he hated the way you looked.

He cleared his throat, nodding, “Yeah, it looks perfect. You’re so beautiful.” He came over to you, looking at you up and down.

You blushed.

“Here,” he began, reaching behind your head, unclamping the claw clip that held all of your hair up, “you should wear your hair down. That will look best.”

You shook your head a bit, letting your hair loose on your shoulders. “Okay, whatever you say, boss.”

“Hm.” he grinned, “I really wanna kiss you right now.”

“Is it the dress? Maybe I should change back into my other clothes.” you joked.

Timmy shook his head, “No, no, it’s just you.” He put his hands on your hips, sliding them across your back.

Your bodies touched, your hands went to his chest.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You didn’t ask permission before.” you pointed out, referring to the night he came over to your place.

With that, his lips met yours in a brief, longing kiss. He pulled away after a moment, saying, “We should stop now, because I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself if I kiss you again.”

………

The morning of the Globes came and he texted you first thing: ‘can u spend the day with me?’

‘I can if you need me to.’ you replied.

‘please🥺’

You showered, got ready and brought your dress inside of its garment bag, and your hair and makeup stuff along to Timmy’s house.

You let yourself in with all of your things.

“Hey, you’re here.” you heard him say, and his footsteps drew near.

“Yeah. Are you by yourself? I figured Aidan and your friends would be here.”

“Nope, just me and you for a while.” he said, taking your makeup bag from you.

“Oh, why is that?” you asked, following him further inside.

He helped you set your things down on the table, turning to you, he said, “Stop it, you know why.”

“Your girlfriend could have kept you company.”

“You are more my girlfriend than she is.” he took your hand, looking down at it, slowly running his thumb over your fingers.

“Don’t get used to saying things like that out loud.”

“Fuck,” he breathed out, grabbing you, “I just want you.” he placed you against the wall.

You moaned softly as you felt his body on yours and his lips met your neck.

His hands swept up your thighs, up your hips to rest there. He slid his palms toward your lower back, then lower.

You gasped as you felt him give your ass a squeeze.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Shit, the guys are early.” Timmy cursed.

January 19, 2025

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive @timhalchala

[marlynnofmany]

At Home in the Mud

“Hey Wio, does your hover stool work over mud?” I asked from the door to the cockpit.

“Not deep mud,” Wio said, glancing at me with her tentacles at work on the controls. “The sensors feel for solid ground.”

“Dang.” I sighed. “Guess I’m stuck with cleaning the exo suit after this delivery.”

“Yeah, sorry,” she said. “There are fresh batteries for the gravity wands, at least. Shouldn’t take you too long.”

Zhee stalked past me, his many bug feet clicking in what was probably irritation. He didn’t say anything, and neither did I, at least until he was out of earshot in the direction of the cargo bay.

I whispered to Wio, “And at least I only have two legs to clean.”

“Good point,” she agreed. “Best of luck!”

I thanked her and headed off after Zhee to where the exo suits waited. He had a head start in getting his on, which he needed. I tried not to draw attention to how easily I tugged mine on over my regular clothes (minus the shoes). Zhee didn’t even take the opportunity to make fun of my need for footwear; he seemed determined to get this delivery over with as quickly as possible.

He said, “Be sure to hold on to the hoversled so you don’t fall and slow us down.”

“Sure thing,” I agreed. I’d planned to keep a solid grip anyway. Hopefully this mud wasn’t the foot-sucking kind.

The ship landed gently — or rather, arrived. There was no landing pad close enough to our client’s location, at least none above the mud at this time of year, so Wio held the ship just above the surface on stable thrusters. The ramp nearly touched the mud.

Captain Sunlight had come in to see us off, and she stood to the side as we hustled down the ramp. “Be quick but careful!” she told us.

Zhee replied, “That’s the plan.”

I freed a hand to wave, then grabbed the edge of our most reliable hoversled. I would have liked to ride on it next to the cases of medical supplies (low priority, not urgent, thankfully), but that wouldn’t have been fair to Zhee. So I did my share of pushing and stepped cautiously into the mud.

Whew, I thought. More watery than thick. I can walk in this. And it was cold, but the exo suit did a decent job of insulating for temperature. I took in the sights more confidently, appreciating the fuzzy moss on all the trees, and the intricate shapes that the bushes grew in. It didn’t quite look like an Earth swamp, but it didn’t look hostile, and that was all I could ask for, really.

Behind us, the ship closed the bay door and lifted up to a more comfortable height to wait. Zhee, with a better view of the screen on the front of the sled, pointed with a pincher arm. We changed direction slightly and trudged through the mud.

The depth changed a few times in quick succession, going from ankle deep to above the knee and back. I did my best to maintain a careful speed, though it was tricky since I couldn’t see the bottom. Zhee seemed to be doing fine. I held onto the sled and took long strides, feeling the way with one foot before trusting my weight to it. Thicker lumps and rocks lurked along the uneven ground. I focused on stepping between them without losing my balance, trusting Zhee to keep us on track.

“Scenic,” I commented to break the monotony of silence and my own breathing inside the helmet.

“Wet,” Zhee replied.

“Scenic and wet.” I glanced up at the mossy trees, then back down at the watery mud. Muddy water? Somewhere in between. “Not the easiest place to walk, though.”

“The captain could have chosen Blip and Blop for this delivery,” Zhee griped. “But no, they’re busy helping Eggskin prepare some complicated food.”

“And Paint wouldn’t be up for this temperature,” I said as I stepped into deeper water that chilled me to my thighs. “Or this depth, really.”

“Paint misses out on a lot of unpleasant environments. Lucky.”

I looked over at him across the pile of strapped-down cases. “Only because she’d pass out and die if she got too cold. I don’t know if I’d call that lucky.”

Zhee tapped an antenna against the inside of his helmet. “Bah. Today, she’s lucky to be coldblooded. We’re stuck with this instead.”

I mentally ran down the roster of our other crewmates. Some of them, like Wio, had other jobs to be doing. “I suppose Mur wouldn’t have an easy time in something this deep either.” I didn’t even know if he could swim. Looking like a squid didn’t necessarily translate.

“No one is likely to have an easy time in this,” Zhee said, shaking a foreleg and splattering watery mud across a tree trunk. “I can’t imagine why the client chose to live here.”

“Maybe they like mud,” I said, trying to watch my feet even though I couldn’t see them.

“They are welcome to it. I look forward to getting back to the ship.”

I was in agreement about that. The info summary about this location had said it was the wet season (Really? Shocking) and that the regular roadways were unavailable. I was under the impression that there was a town somewhere nearby, or at least other people than just the one, but all I could see was endless swamp.

With rocks and the occasional tree root just waiting to trip me. I focused on stepping carefully and trying not to slow our progress.

Concentrating as I was, I didn’t realize we’d arrived until Zhee tugged the sled to the side. I looked up to find the first dry ground I’d seen rising out of the mud into a walkway of flat paving stones. A round stone house perched at the top of the rise.

We slogged up to leave an interesting set of footprints along the walkway: my left/right muddy bootprints and Zhee’s collection of much smaller splats. With the hoversled between us, it looked like this house was getting two visitors interested in staying as far away from each other as possible, instead of a single delivery.

When we got close, a chorus of tiny squeaks started up. I located the source: a small cage hanging beside the door, which held a handful of cricket-sized whatevers. While Zhee found what passed for a doorbell, I took a surreptitious look. They were small and blobby, not mini near-cousins of his, which was definitely for the best.

“Delivery!” Zhee announced while a chime jangled.

Various bumps and a muffled voice sounded from inside, then our avian client opened the door eagerly. “Thank you for coming!” he said in the same trade language we were using, just with the distinct quackity overtones of his particular species. His dark feathers were flecked with white and he kept his arms folded as if they were wings. He said earnestly, “I hope it wasn’t too long of a walk.”

“It was fine,” Zhee said. “Would you like your packages unloaded right here?”

“Oh! Ahmm…” the ducky fellow looked indecisively between the stack of boxes, the paving stones, and the indoors.

I said, “We could carry them in for you, but we’d track in a bit of mud.” The sled was much too wide to fit through the door.

“That’s all right; I’ll move them,” he decided. “Out here is fine. Now where should I—? Yes, thank you.” He took the payment screen from Zhee and signed for the delivery while I undid the straps holding everything down. We didn’t always bother with those, but I was starting to think we should. If I’d managed to trip and knock a box into the mud, that would have been an embarrassing bad mark on our record.

While we unloaded the boxes, those little whatsits serenaded us with a fresh chorus of squeaky chirps. It reminded me of tame finches with just a touch of guinea pig. I wondered if this was the local version of a windchime or something else.

The client saw me staring and said, “My dear little Cozy went missing, and these are his favorite food. I’m hoping to lure him back. You haven’t seen him, have you? A young cuddlebeast about this big, with a white stripe on his head?” He held clawed hands a few inches apart.

“Sorry, no,” I said with a look at Zhee. “I didn’t see any beasts at all. Did you?”

“No,” Zhee agreed. “Just mud.”

The client ruffled his feathers in a way I didn’t know how to read; maybe he was embarrassed. “They did tell me he’s suited to living in this environment, and he might not return if I let him out, but I haven’t given up hope. My home is nice and warm, after all.”

“We’ll keep an eye out on the walk back,” I told him. “Does he come when he’s called?”

“He always did when he was inside the house,” the guy said. “Cozy! Cozyyy!” He waited for a moment, then looked down. “He loves his cuddles. I hope nothing bad has happened to him.”

Zhee set down the last box. “You’ve done what you can,” he assured the client, sounding like he might have even meant it.

“I suppose so.” The ducky guy looked sad for a moment, then rallied. “Well, thank you again! I don’t want to keep you. Safe travels!”

We bid him goodbye and headed back down into the mud, with me waving goodbye and Zhee trying to make good time. The client went back into his house and I focused on taking long strides again.

We went slightly to the side of the route we’d taken before. The mud was much lumpier here, with herds of round rocks that rolled around and made the footing treacherous. Despite my death grip on the sled, I was nearly swimming at a couple points in an effort to keep up. The muddy water was deep enough to swim in, but not consistently so, otherwise I might have given up and started paddling.

I had just decided to ask Zhee to slow down when I lost my footing completely and went under, holding my breath in panic before I remembered the exo suit covered my head. I got my feet under me by kicking lumps out of the way and I stood in the waist-high mud, wiping futilely at the dirty face mask.

Zhee sighed audibly and stopped walking. “Really?”

“It’s hard to find somewhere solid to step!” I exclaimed. “There are rocks and lumps of mud everywhere!” I scooped one up to prove my point, ending up with what looked like a potato. “Huh. That’s too light to be a rock. Tuber?”

“Fascinating,” Zhee said drily.

“It reminds me of an Earth food, but those don’t grow in swamps,” I said, giving it a closer look.

“Do not bring it back to the ship for eating,” Zhee said sternly.

“I wasn’t going to!” I protested.

“Good. It’s probably horribly smelly and liable to poison half the crew.”

I started to protest more, just on principle, then the potato opened an eye and I dropped it. “Ah!”

“What?”

“It’s a creature!” I shuffled in place, feeling more potato-like shapes bump against my ankles in the cold watery mud. “Are these all animals??”

“Ugh,” Zhee declared, lifting a couple exo suited legs out of the murk on his side of the hoversled. “What an unpleasant choice of environmental niches.”

I was thinking fast. “Wait, these could be like toads. It’s cold right now; maybe they’re hibernating. Hey, do you know what a ‘cuddlebeast’ actually looks like?”

“Not a clue. That’s your area of expertise.” Zhee gave me a look through the domes over his faceted eyes. “Do these things look especially cuddleable to you?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” I felt around gingerly for another one, hoping they didn’t have sharp teeth to use on people who interrupted their hibernation. “But that would explain why Cozy never came back, if he’s out here dozing with his distant family.”

“Well I’m sure he’s very happy if so,” Zhee said, stepping forward. “Let’s be off.”

“Wait, lemme try something first.” I put a hand on the sled as it eased past, but did my best impression of the squeaks that the food animals had made earlier. Cute little questioning sounds, like they were curious.

“If that didn’t work close to the house, it’s unlikely to work out here,” Zhee said. But he stopped again.

“It’s worth a shot,” I said. “Cozy! Cozyyy!” Then I squeaked some more.

“What a surprise; nothing. Now let’s—” Zhee flinched when something by his hind leg croaked.

“Cozy!” I said with a grin, ducking to look under the hoversled. “Here, boy!” Something potato-like with big eyes and a distinct pale swatch on the top was treading water in the murk.

Zhee stepped fastidiously to higher ground. “I can’t believe you found it.”

“Yup,” I said, testing my footing. “Now I just have to catch it.”

“As long as you keep your mud to yourself.”

“No promises,” I said, making the first lunge of many and only splashing a little.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[cryptid-killjoy]

Willem was always going to be a guy down for a HTH break in. It was just the sort of adventure Wild Will was in toespecially if it ended in chilli dogs.

Willem also wasn't sure he ever thought of himself as a father figure to any of the dolls yet. Caretaker? Yes. Father, somehow, he didn't see himself as that even of his own creations even if that might have been somewhat true. Thoughts for another, perhaps. Emotions that hadn't quite matured or been labeled, perhaps.

"A mother? Hmm. I guess I can see that. I'll think about that."

He left it at that for more pondering later. What he knew for sure and did not have to think any longer on was Figaro looked cool as fucking get out with a firearm like that. It straight up suited them. Willem decided it was hot and gave it a double glance, maybe two.

"You look like a video game... in a cool way."

The compliment felt needed.

But moving along into the Livvy's home. Willem wouldn't know Figaro would have expected, but he knew what to expect with how many times he'd made these excursions to check the dolls. He navigated the home with ease.

Figaro wasn't wrong for thinking it was sad. Willem knew it was. It was why they didn't mind when Figaro first chose to stay at the ball. Sad things like this were often easier done in private. Modesty for humility. Smalls said no judgement and Will felt safe enough he wasn't unaware of how it would come off.

They laughed about the shrine and even turned red to some extent.

"I'm pretty sure she's my number one hater wherever she is now and has a voodoo doll of me and with its nuts in a vice on a Battleship board and keeps tossing it overboard. I have a theory they had something to do with Pan's flood making the blizzard melt day randomly a double hard moment for us because only she would hate me enough right now to want to make every moment of my life as hard as it could possibly be."

Even saying his theory out loud made him laugh.

"I'd have deserved it though. From her mind. We broke up after sailing on a ship across the water. Trying to drown me just makes sense to me. Poetic Justice. Whatever better form of justice is there?"

Despite it being oddly morbid he said it playful with humoral candor.

Then Figaro agreed to head on out and search for Livvy's uncle's closet.

"Okay, that's good. You come find me then."

He was going to go looking for Smalls, but Smalls said they'd come back when they were done, so they changed their mind and would wait for Smalls to come back to them.

When Figaro headed out Willem went along with his routine of tinkering with each shelf. He'd careful take ever figurine and doll off one shelf at a time and neatly lay them on the bed while he dusted the shelf and then cleaned the figures themselves before standing each one back one at a time. As he did this, he'd make sure any soft ones were fluffed and their dresses were tidied, shoelaces or bows flounced, and hats properly straightened. If Livvy had told him anything particular about the doll, he'd go through that memory in his mind to pay it homage to what sentimental value it held in the secrets of their faces. To the one he had no information he sent the same appreciation because there's sentiment in the bond of a knick knack, a memento, a toy, that's far stronger than just a memory.

He once considered memories like pages in a book of who a person is. They can be turned and re-turned again. He could read the same chapter more than once as many times as he liked for fun, but never truly relive it. A souvenir or memento of a memory is simply that, a small token. It could be thrown away or lost, but the memory still exists. The chapter can still be filed through in one's recollection. A doll however, a toy with a face, for some reason feels different to Willem than some token. Even silent it looks back. It gives the feeling it experienced all your eyes saw in that same memory. It experienced what you did. A shared experience becomes a friend not a souvenir. One can look into those non-moving eyes and think they were there. Maybe it was nuts? However, if you were a person who could also take those same dolls and bring them to life if he wanted the idea might not seem so farfetched. Lifeless dolls might seem more important than just some old attachment that needed to be let go of.

To Willem's credit he hadn't gone as far as bringing any of Livvy's dolls to life, but it had entered his mind. He was under no delusion he'd ever see Livvy again and he didn't want his old girlfriend's living dolls being a drain on relationships. He was bright enough to realize that could be a deal breaker moving forward. He just hadn't gotten to the fully moved forward part yet.

Okay, so he'd done a little messing around. Zero existed. Even Piper existed, more new, Nutmeg. These were not people who were ever going to be in Willem's life in a permanent way. They were when the mood hit kind of friends. These were complicated friends, not actual relationships.

All that said, none of it was on its mind now. Just the dolls were. When he finished with the cleaning, he'd pick up that mermaid again and sit down on the bed. It had a tendency to get the most favor and longest time being held. It had the vast majority of memories attached for Will. He laid back with it. He sat it on his chest and admired its face as he relaxed. He'd glance over at the shelf and give it a smile. Then he'd smooth over the mermaid's glossy hair. Motions like had a way triggering other past memories like turning Livvy into a doll at Barbie and Ken's party. He remembered the texture of her hair and the sand. He recalled the paints. He could relive every brush stroke of the artwork like muscle memory as porcelain slid under his his fingertips.

He sang one of the lines to the song he wrote Livvy just above a whisper. "If you don't feel that this is real then I'll just walk away. Way deep down I know I found the that proof that love can save. So take some time to figure out what this thing is all about. I hope some day you feel it too. I promise that I'll try to love the best I can. You make me a better man. Whatever this is leading to. For the first time I'm gonna listen to my heart."

Then he took a big breath and sat up. He kissed the little figurine. "I guess it all led me to you pretty lady. I saved you from the boxes. I can live with that."

Then he shined up her face one more time before placing her back in her proper place knowing full well his heart would always be with the dolls. It would be a big enough win for him.

"Thanks for being a part of that." He added as he tapped one finger tip on the glass after closing the shelving unit back up.

It left a smudge.

"Woops."

So, he went to Windex the last spot before he was completely done with the room. He cleaned it spotless enough for a bird to smash into. He was pleased with his work. He joked to the dolls, "Lucky this thing isn't a patio door."

“Now that would be entertaining to see. Especially if you two do the awkward dance of trying to pass each other but stepping in each other’s way,” Figaro said. Bright sides, sunny sides, you had to have the light to be able to have the dark too. Figaro tried to keep the balance.

Chili Dogs. Now that sounded good. Just the thought of it was enough to get the hunger going, the saliva flowing, despite being in this stink of a place. “Fuck it, we’re sneaking into Halloweentown one of these days. Once you try one of their Chili Cheese Dogs, your life isn’t going to be the same.”

Hansel as a handsome guy though? “It’s weird,” They said. “I feel somewhat … almost maternal over him? Guess I kind of am a parent now.”

What an odd thing to think about. What an odd thing to realize. In Funkytown, the dynamic hadn’t really changed. Figaro was in charge but hardly ever acted on it. It felt - wrong, somehow, to try to take control, having watched Gepetto give them their own autonomy, their own thoughts, their own actions. So Mr Punch kept being uncontrollable. Hansel kept living in the walls and being a bit of a pervert, his human body still having human feelings, thrusting against a wall while watching through a peephole.

“Yup, keeping this on me,” They agreed. It was not a good smell. Eventually all of the flesh and organs would rot away and then it would just be bones, which didn’t have as bad of a smell, but right now, it was pretty rank. The place needed some sort of Fabreeze cleansing. Or maybe Frank and Delta spent so much time up in their castle, they didn’t even know that it smelt so bad down here. They needed some sort of comment box, in Figaro’s opinion.

All of their information about guns came from movies and videogames. They knew at the very least to turn on the safety for now, until they would need it. “All I need are some green plants, and we’ve gone totally Resident Evil in this bitch.”

Great minds think alike. Figaro was also all about upgrading their setup at home. Getting a bigger TV, though the vintage one had been moved into their room, because they weren’t going to get rid of Gepetto’s things, other than giving some to Willem, of course. But it felt like he was one of Gep’s kids too. The stuff was THEIRS. Not just inherited by Fig. Better sound system, more gizmos and gadgets.

Figaro let Willem take the lead since they didn’t know their way around the apartment block. They had the gun in hand, waiting for a chance to use it. To ‘blast them’ as Thomas would say. Their knowledge of annoying curses and animal speak wasn’t the most useful for a zombie situation, except to get birds and other animals to let them know where the zombies themselves were. They had to bring out the big guns.

They didn’t say anything about Willem having the key. It just made sense, given that he came to visit the dolls. Others might have found it a bit romantic, perhaps, that he kept visiting his ex’s apartment, taking care of her things. But Figaro just found it practical.

The two of them went through the building, checking around corners, making sure that there wasn’t something waiting on just the other side. But it looked as if the building had mostly been cleaned out. Any life that was here that would have drew the zombies in, disappeared a long time ago. Still, once inside of the apartment, Figaro turned the lock on the door to feel a touch safer.

Though they were anxious to get at that Hawaiian shirt collection that hopefully had not been eaten away from bugs or faded by light coming in through the windows, they were curious about Livvy’s room, and would follow Willem inside. It wasn’t exactly what they had expected.

The shelves were new, and taken care of, that much was clear. It wasn’t covered in dust and cobwebs like everything else. The dolls seemed to be in a place of prevalence. They stood out, like they were an important item in a video game or something, rendered more predominantly.

“I’m a little surprised,” They admitted, hands on their hips, looking at the girliness of the room, the teal color that was on everything, the bit of a mess of clothes from when Livvy was deciding what to pack all that time ago for the big boat trip. “I was expecting a huge shrine to you,” They said, looking to Willem. “Or did you get embarrassed and take that down?”

They weren’t trying to be funny or teasing, that’s genuinely what Figaro thought that they would walk into when it came to Livvy’s space. A whole wall plastered with pictures of Willem, maybe some with Fig but with Fig’s face cut out or something like that. Pieces of his hair, his toenail clippings, on a shelf. This was a voodoo town after all, it wouldn’t be hard for some white girl to get their hands on some sort of love potion or DIY-Voodoo-Doll set. But it was actually pretty … relaxed in here.

They were watching Willem more than the dolls after that, making sure that he was going to be alright while doing this. But maybe it was something that he just needed to do, the way that some people just needed a big cry. Something about it being cathartic.

‘Miss her if she comes back.’ ‘Don’t get too lonely.��

It was … kind of sad.

“Yes, I’ll leave you guys to talk and gossip and … do whatever it is that y’all do in here, no judgment,” They said, putting their hands up and backed out of the room slowly. “I’ll come find ya once I finish raiding that closet.”

[isalisewrites]

hello ms. isalise !! suddenly i had a thought so i wanted to ask, if members of the knights of walpurgis were a deadly sin, who would be which one in your opinion and why do you think that if that's not too much of a hustle!! <3

Nah, not a hassle at all! I love this question and I took the time to really think about it. I limited it to Terrible, But Great's Tom and Slytherin dorm gang, choosing not to duplicate a sin. And I didn't give one for all of the Knights. I also added an eight extra sin, just for fun. It'll make sense, haha.

SO. I'm going to explain these as fatal flaws to their character.

Tom Riddle is Pride.

This one is self explanatory. Tom's fatal flaw is pride, which was his downfall in the canon timeline. If he's not careful, it'll take him down again. It's through his humbling that he becomes a better and stronger person. When he stops viewing himself above others, he's able to make beautiful connections with his friends, with adults who care about him, and with Harry.

Alphard Black is Gluttony.

I almost picked Sloth for Alphard, but Gluttony don't suit Simon at all. Gluttony is the fatal flaw of overconsumption. The Deadly Sin is in reference to food specifically, but in the case of Alphard, he can go a little overboard on things. He'll sleep too much and because he's so good at noticing nuances, he can push people's buttons extremely well, even more than Quintus would - we just haven't seen him fall into his fatal flaw as much yet, but we will in the future. (Specifically when he finds out about a certain pair of newly dating boys.)

Quintus Prince is Greed.

This one reveals a lot of Quintus' inner workings. But Quintus does secretly value pureblood status. While Alphard has broken off his engagement, Quintus has not. It is this fear of losing what he has that holds him back from abandoning his status as the heir of Prince and wholeheartedly embracing his relationship with Alphard.

And he will suffer for it.

Roland Rosier is Lust.

Despite Al and Quin's innuendos, Roland is the most sexually promiscuous of the group. He's free and wild about it. He hasn't cared about how he's gone about having sex with other girls, until now. He's met Edith. If he wants to be with Edith, he'll have to change this fatal flaw.

Simon Avery is Sloth.

This really suited Simon the most, interestingly enough, even though I didn't realize it at first. He is generally content with maintaining the status quo. He observes more than he interferes and it wasn't until chapter 51 that we got to see him push beyond his fatal flaw. He'll slowly grow out of this inaction over time even more.

Sebastian Lestrange is Wrath.

This boy has the quickest and meanest of the tempers in the entire group, more so than Tom or Harry. When I started writing TBG, I labeled him as a bastard. He isn't nice, at first. He can easily cause fights and problems because of his temper. As he's grown throughout the story, we're seeing him calm down a bit through Harry's selfless friendship. If Sebastian doesn't keep working on his wrath, he won't be able to be an effective adult in Tom's inner circle.

Marcus (or Maia) Mulciber is Envy.

As Marcus hasn't transitioned at this point in time, I will still address Marcus with he/him pronouns. Marcus' fatal flaw is envy. He wishes he could escape the chains of his pureblood duties and live fully as a woman, but he believes he can't. In the beginning, he was cruel, cranky, and mean. But when someone (Harry) acknowledges his desire and honors it, we begin to see his envy fading away.

And, for fun, Harry Evans (Potter) is Chaos/Disorder.

Harry is the epitome of chaos. He's very ADHD coded and that's both a blessing and a curse for him. It's his chaos that gets him into trouble, but also leads him down the path he was always meant to traverse. The key to overcoming this fatal flaw is harnessing his chaotic energy, rather than letting it carry him off.

This was an amazing ask. Thank you so much! <3

[sergeantjessi]

hello dougzer nation, i didn't feel like uploading this as a single ao3 story but i've been told you might enjoy this, so... take this ficlet

“Do you think I should marry Dan?”

Parkzer looked up in confusion.

Doug must've recently stopped streaming, based on how quiet it suddenly was, but usually he took some time to himself. It was unusual of him to barge into his room mere minutes later. Without knocking first, too, though that wasn’t too out of the ordinary for him.

“Why would you marry Dan?”

Doug shrugged. “We both think it'd be funny to get married and divorced.”

He leaned in the doorway, grinning, and Parkzer appraised him before looking back at the screen and finishing writing the sentence he started before Doug had so suddenly interrupted him. In the back of his mind, a little movie played about Doug and Dan in suits, in front of an altar or an officiant. It stopped after they kissed.

“I think it would be a terrible idea.” 

“Whaaat? Why?” Doug sounded like a child whose toy you've taken away, pleading to let them play a little longer. Or in his case, to let him get married.

“I'm not familiar with marriage and divorce laws,” he began, feeling strangely nervous, “but getting a divorce is a complicated process.” He continued rattling off what knowledge he had of this topic. He was aware Doug stopped paying attention after just a few sentences, based on how he started walking through his room and examining it, but it was important to him to make it clear why he should not get married to Dan.

Eventually, Doug let himself fall onto his bed, on his back. Parkzer wanted to scold him, to not treat this room like it belonged to him, but… it literally did. Plus, he didn’t really mind, so why bother?

“Can't you find like some sort of loophole? I think it'd be hilarious if Dan and I could be divorced.” 

“No,” Parkzer immediately responded. He wasn't particularly fond of encouraging Doug to get married to Dan.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Doug roll on his belly, his face propped on his hands, his gaze locked on Parkzer. It made him unreasonably nervous.

“Do you think we should get married?” 

“I told you, I don't think your plan is-” 

“No,” Doug interrupted him. “You and me.” 

Parkzer’s head jerked to the side. “We're not even dating.”

He was aware this wasn't a no; he just hoped Doug didn't pick up on that too.

“Well…” Doug started grinning, which didn't help his nervousness, “we can change that.”

[isavulpix]

Late Nights

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

I wrote this after watching a lot of sad DC edits in TikTok, I need more happy edits about the Batfam and Dickkory. This was mostly for funsies so sorry if it's shit.

Warnings: English isn’t my first language so there will be errors, and characters may be OOC. Fluff? Fluff.

Isavulpix masterlist

It was late at night, and you had a bad night after stopping Mr. Zsasz from killing some innocent people, you guessed they were tourists because who walks in Gotham streets at night with no protection? The good thing was that the night was over, and you could head back home to wash the day off.

Entering the apartment, your gaze falls on the dirty boots beside your shoe rack, and then the black leather jacket on the couch. You sigh annoyed and move the items to their respective places, how many times will you need to remind him of these things? You walk into your room knowing that he is there and as much as he annoys you, you can’t help but feel happy that, for a change, he is the one home first.

Inside the room, you see the familiar figure of the man you love sprawled on your bed reading a book. It must be that special edition Jane Austin book he ordered some months ago. “How did patrol go?” He asks you while turning a page of the book and you walk behind a folding screen to undress from your suit.

“It was fine, nothing I couldn’t handle” You walk to your bathroom to take a quick shower. When you come back, he moves your suit to where you usually place it, and you can't help but roll your eyes. “If only you did that with your stuff” You smile when he wraps his hands and arms around your form. He was saying something, but you were more occupied robbing his body heat, it was a cold night and Jason's big form was enough of a heater for you.

What makes you come back to reality is the sudden push. “Jason!” You groan when you feel his body waiting over you. “Ugh! Scoot over, you're too heavy” You try to move away but he tightens his hold so you it was more you moving like a wiggly worm.

“No, now shut up and stop moving. I'm trying to relax” You scoff at his response, but do as he says, letting him get comfy. That’s how he ended up with his head between your breasts, arms around your waist, and one of your hands caressing his hair. You liked to twirl the white strikes of hair he had, sometimes even braiding them.

 “I guess work was good today since you’re here early”

“Mm…it was fine, nothing I can't handle” You roll your eyes when he uses the exact words you used earlier so you tug the hair you were twirling.

“Very funny, Todd” Jason moves his head up, now his chin resting between your breasts while smirking.

“I know, sweetheart maybe I should quit and become a comedian” He leaves a kiss where his chin was resting.

“Please, don’t. I love you, but not enough to maintain you after your comedian career crashes, plus you would grow too bored without some action in your life” You could feel your cheeks heating up when you feel him smiling against the skin of your chest. “Not that kind of action!” Now you can feel the heat of your cheeks expanding to your ears.

Jason only laughs at your embarrassment. “Really?” He moves his hands to touch your hot cheeks. “Because this is telling something different” Jason smiles when you groan and try again to move away from him, but he doesn’t let you. He wraps his arms yet again around you but this time you two lay facing each other.

“Your so annoying” You mumble when you feel one of his hands grabbing your ass, but you move your arms to hug him closer.

[marvelavengerspovs1]

Winter Wolf Ch. 5

Winter Wolf Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of Y/N, mentions of violence

Length: 1055

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

You open your eyes and see smoke and dust. You try to think about what happened before you were knocked out but can't remember. An explosion went off, but you had no idea what happened leading up to it. You suddenly hear your name.

"Y/N, are you ok?" Bucky asks.

He walks to where you are, his gun pulled out and being cautious.

You pick yourself up and dust off the dirt. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Bucky puts his gun down for a second before pulling you in for a hug. "Bucky, everyone will see us."

"I don't care right now." He kisses your temple before stepping back.

"What happened?" You ask while looking around.

The dust has mostly settled and you can see the compound. You were blown out of the building. You can see the meeting room you were in previously was surprisingly mostly intact.

"You don't remember?" You shake your head. "Ok, we can talk about it later. We need to get the rest of the team."

You and Bucky run into the building through the hole. As much as you want to use the elevator, you know better. You're pretty sure that the rest of the team already knows that something is going on but you still have to alert them.

You run up a flight of stairs and turn into the weapon and suit floor. You already see everyone getting ready.

"What happened?" Natasha asks.

"I don't know. All I know is that we are under attack."

"Tony is already out there," Bucky tells the rest of the team.

"Bruce and Thor just went out there so Tony isn't alone," Steve says.

You quickly go to your locker and grab your suit to quickly change into. You could fight in your workout clothes but your suit allows you to carry more weapons.

Bucky goes to the locker right next to you and opens it. He grabs his suit as well and puts it on.

Everyone has already left so it is just you and Bucky. You look at him as he takes off his shirt.

"You're hot."

"Now is not the time Doll," Bucky chuckles.

You shrug and give him a quick kiss on the lips. "Hurry up old man. The fight is going to be over by the time you're done getting ready."

Bucky rolls his eyes before pulling you in by your waist and kisses you. You place your hands on his chest and kiss him back. You pull away and pat his chest.

"Let go. We can't have anyone being suspicious."

"Tony already knows," Bucky points out.

"Still, I don't want them to be the only ones fighting. And I want to tell them, not Tony."

Bucky lets you go and you pull away. You send him one last smile before running out of the room.

You get outside and see everyone fighting. Hulk came out and is smashing everything in sight. You can see Tony flying around in his suit, looking for more of the invaders. Natasha and Clint are on top of the compound, using the height advantage to help the team. Wanda, Vision, and Sam are also flying around and using the height to their advantage.

"Can someone come and get me?" You ask through the comms.

"Look to your left."

You look and see Sam coming at you. You start running and you jump. Sam catches your arm and you are both in the air.

"Right there!" You yell.

"Don't yell! I can hear your screeching voice through the comms and in my other ear!" Sam complains.

"Shut up Eagle boy!" You roll your eyes as Sam starts to lower you.

You drop and roll, landing on your left knee and right foot. You get up and start attacking the people in front of you.

You throw punch after punch, kick after kick, and dodge most of their attacks. 

One of the guys comes up to you and knocks you in the back of the head. You fall face first and groan.

"I need to stop getting hit in the head." You mutter to yourself, placing your hand where it is throbbing most.

You roll over and your eyes widen. The guy has a knife and is aiming it at you. You raise your hands to block the knife when he falls on top of you.

You look to your left and see Bucky holding a gun up. "I got you, Doll."

You throw the guy off of you and Bucky rushes to help you up.

"You need to stop getting hit in the head." He looks at you.

You laugh and shake your head. "Not a chance old man."

Bucky grimaces. "Do not call me that. That is so weird."

You laugh again. "Got it. Grandpa."

Bucky rolls his eyes before raising his arm to shoot an oncoming attacker. He doesn't even have to look.

"I was serious before. You're hot." You tell him.

Bucky rolls his eyes again, but a smile is on his face this time. "Let's go, Doll."

You and Bucky run into the middle of what used to be the track. Everyone is making sure that you guys would still have a compound by the end of the day.

"I kind of wish I had a 9-5!" You yelled as you knocked a guy out.

"No, you don't!" You hear Natasha yell.

She was right. While a 9-5 would be less stressful and pay bills, you love what you do. You love being able to help innocent people who cannot defend themselves, you love that the Avengers were not only your friends but family.

You turn around to take on another attacker. Once he's down, you feel a presence behind you. You pull a knife from your belt and throw it over your shoulder before turning around. 

"Whoa, Doll!" Bucky catches the knife and hands it back to you.

"Sorry, Buck."

"It's alright, you didn't know. Nice reflexes though." You smile at him.

You look around and don't see anyone coming after you.

"Is it over?" You ask through the comms.

"Friday is checking for any stragglers," Tony says.

After a few minutes, you get the all-clear from Tony.

"Meeting room, now!" Tony says.

No one objects and heads for the meeting room without a change of clothes.

Tagged Readers: @ordelixx @bellabarnes1378 @sukaibg @angel-xx-1 @spookydestinydonut @harperkenobi @mcira @yeehawbrothers @waywardhunter95 @blackbirdwitch22

[blackcorvette]

Own My Mind

Summary: 1986. Hawkins, Indiana. It’s not your fault that you’re pulled into the messy secrets and hidden world of your small town. It’s not your fault that two of your new acquaintances seem to be fond of you, and not of each other.

Warnings: Language. Stranger Things central violence. Spelling errors, grammar mistakes, and rushed writing. Eventual smut… (buckle in, it’s a long ride.) MDNI

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: We had the clock app banned for a few hours and I was momentarily frightened over how we’d get season 5 edits :,) Now, if you haven’t already realized, this fic follows through the episodes of season four. Let’s see if there’s any changes…

Currently Reading: Part Two

Masterlist

At nine in the morning, it's been twelve hours since you’ve discovered the intruders. Twelve hours since you had heard Eddie’s story, and pieces of the stories Dustin, Robin, Max and Steve had spared over the few years of curses that they’ve endured.

Sleep came sparingly, and you had been dressed and ready to…you’re not sure exactly, but you couldn’t sit still any longer.

Most days, you walk to the house when making your checks, but this morning you take your car- not caring about how the gravel might scuff the rims or how the dust will dirty the paint. The engine cuts when you pull the key out of the ignition, quickly climbing out and loading your arms with a few bags of snacks and water bottles before shutting the car door.

You haven’t made it halfway to the boathouse when a second car pulls into the drive, the familiar faces from the night before following you to the building, carrying bags of their own.

Robin nods a hello, handing off an extra bag to Dustin and follows him and Max ahead of you to the boathouse. Steve, on the other hand, lingers back, sticking by you.

“Here.” He reaches out, taking the heavier bags from your hands.

“Thanks.” You offer him a small smile, but it’s little more than a nicety, still unnerved by the information fed to you the night before.

He gives you his own polite smile, falling as quickly as your own did, just as exhausted. Quietly, you walk together, following the group to the door.

The quiet, however, is broken when the door opens and a disgruntled, nervous Eddie is posed with a weapon and a few choice words for scaring him so badly.

Dustin grins, raising the bags, while Steve reaches over your head to wave his fingers, an action so petty you nearly laugh. “Delivery service!”

Muttering a few insulting phrases, Eddie takes one of the bags, pulling out the first thing he can reach. A box of cereal. He stalks away, towards the boat he has deemed his favorite spot in the building, opening the box as he walks.

Steve drops the bags on the floor, the others following suit. Groceries spill onto the floor, and you crouch to gather them before they fall into the water to be wasted.

A shadow casts over you, and when you glance up, you see Steve lowering to help you, wordlessly placing them back into the bags.

When you stand, he gestures for you to stand beside him, opening a small bag of trail mix he hadn’t replaced, offering it to you- as if he had known you hadn’t eaten since the afternoon before.

Standing beside Steve against the wall, the two of you share the food. Every time you finish a portion, he’ll pour more into your outstretched hand- an action so natural you could imagine you’ve been close friends for years, rather than acquainted for less than a day.

“So we got, uh…” Dustin begins to talk while Eddie feasts on dry cereal. “Some good news and some bad news. How do you prefer it?”

Eddie pretends to consider his options, a handful of cereal being dropped back into the yellow box before lifting an equally bright colored bottle of Yoohoo. “Bad news first, always.”

“Alright, bad news.” Dustin continues. “We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they're definitely looking for you.”

The news is new to you, making you wince, half wondering if you’ve become an accomplice to this entire thing.

“Also, they’re pretty convinced you killed Chrissy.” He adds as if it were the morning weather depicting sunny skies.

“Like, one hundred percent kind of convinced.” Max says, with a bit more sensitivity than Dustin is using with the recently criminalized man sulking in a boat.

You sigh, dropping the side of your head to the support beam you’re leaning against, only to feel Steve’s hand wrap around your wrist and tug it close enough to pour more trail mix into your palm, either as a distraction or apology, you welcome it either way.

“And the good news?” Eddie asks with a tired breath.

Robin is the one to answer. “Your name hasn’t gone public yet. But, if we found out about you, it’s only a matter of time before others do too, and once that gets out. Everyone and their shallow minded mother is gonna be gunning for you.”

Eddie’s eyes turn away. “Hunt the freak, right?”

“Exactly.” Robin says with no hesitation, though you can sense the regret in her voice.

Eddie curses, but Dustin attempts to make a futile attempt at a plan. “So before that happens, we find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.”

Steve nods beside you, as if the plan is fullprof, but doesn’t attempt to appear at all convinced when he catches your gaze.

“That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?” Eddie’s smile is forced and bitter.

“Yeah, no, that’s pretty much it.”

“Listen, Eddie.” Robin spares him. “I know everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this kinda thing before.”

You flick your eyes to Steve who offers an unenthusiastic nod, confirming her claims.

Robin rephrases. “I mean, they have. A few times. And I have once. Mine was more human-flesh-based. Theirs was more smoke related. But- bottom line is, collectively, I really feel like we’ve got this.”

Steve nods again, this time for more than just you. “Yeah, see, we’ve usually got this girl who has super powers. But, those went bye-bye, so…”

The look on your face but be incredulous, because he shrugs when he sees it, as if trying to weakly convince you it’s true.

“So, we’re technically in more of the…”

“In the brainstorming phase?” Max answers, sounding unsure herself.

“Brainstorming!” Steve smiles and snaps, agreeing.

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Dustin says, causing Steve to huff a laugh to brush it all off- only making you less confident of the situation than you were before.

Before the awkward conversation and failed reassurance can continue, sirens begin to go off outside, making everyone turn. In seconds, Eddie is hidden beneath the tarp again and the rest of you are posed by the windows.

A set of emergency vehicles drive past quickly, their lights and sirens on.

“What do you think they're going to?” You ask out loud, not sure if you’d even earn an answer to the question.

“Robbery?” Robin asks hopefully, though her voice is tense enough to suggest she knows better.

Dustin speaks what everyone’s thinking, even you. “Another victim.”

Listening to the sirens as they fade, you glance at each one of them, trying to figure out if you really do believe there stories- if you trust them enough to stay, or if you should run now.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Steve pushes away from the window, pulling his keys from his pocket and hurrying through the door.

Robin, Max, and Dustin follow quickly. For several seconds, you remain motionless, watching them retreat, listening to the car door open. You don’t have enough time to make your decision, to even catch your breath from the last hours of your life- and yet you willingly follow them.

Quickly, you rush to the door, Steve has just closed the driver side when you appear. When he sees you, he waves a hand to tell you to hurry. Robin, who had taken the passenger seat, tells the kids to move before she climbs into the back without getting out.

You get into the passenger seat as fast as you can, barely closing the door before Steve has reversed out of the driveway and begins to speed down the road to chase the cop cars and ambulance, but they’re too far ahead.

The road is a straight shot for a minute, but you soon pull up to a fork in the road, the emergency vehicles nowhere in sight, and the sirens echoing in every direction. Steve slows the car to a stop, cursing while Dustin’s voice cuts in with a mild complaint. You pay little attention to the argument starting between the four- instead reaching down to lower your window.

The sirens are fainter now, and you squint into the forest in either direction. On the right, you can make out the distant reflection of the lake, more trees past that, and on the left… You have to climb halfway out of the window, your arms against the rooftop of the car.

Steve notices first, his voice snapping from the argument and turning to you. “Hey, what are you-”

The red and blue flashing confirms what you had thought you’d seen. “There.” You point towards the left when you come to a fork in the road. “I can see the lights through the trees.”

“Got it, now get down!” Steve urges, a hand grasping your coat and holding onto you while you ease back into the car, trying not to slip.

Once you’re secured back into your seat, he sets off again, turning left and driving until you finally catch sight of the lights ahead.

“Shit.” Dustin groans as you get closer to the cars, a blockade and several people already on scene. “We’re late- they’ve already secured the scene. And now-”

Max hushes him, then opens her car door to be the first one out. Dustin and Robin follow. You climb out as Steve shuts off the car before stepping out himself. In the distance, you see another familiar face- one you hadn’t thought of since Highschool.

Nancy Wheeler is standing with a pair of officers, who seem to be questioning her. Her eyes land on the group, lingering on you for a few moments too long, and you wonder if she’s having the same thoughts as you. Why is she here?

“Is she…” You turn to Dustin who stands behind you, the car door held open. “Is she part of everything?”

He nods. “It started with Barb.”

“Barb?” You gasp, stomach dropping. “You mean, Barb was in on everything? They said she went missing?”

“She did…sort of?” He shakes his head, not elaborating.

Mind now muddied with the new information, that your friend had been involved is more troubling than anything else that they’ve told you so far. The girl you had spent days searching for, crying for- had not just gone missing but had been entangled in this.

You focus your eyes on the scene in front of you, attempting to make sense of it- to take your mind off of anything else, but it’s anything but comforting.

“A body.” You huff out, seeing the tarp being pulled over a mangled shape in the center of the road. “That’s fucking great.”

“Yeah, well.” Steve shrugs, shutting the car door. “Welcome to the shitstorm.”

The officers let Nancy go, and she immediately begins to walk in your direction. Her arms are crossed, eyes reddened. The group of you meet her halfway, you linger on the edge, unsure of your place in it all.

“What happened?” Dustin is the first to speak, but Nancy shakes her head and her eyes meet yours.

“Who’s this?”

The question makes you raise your brow, the calm accusation in her voice much too passive of the crime still standing in the street behind her. You give her your name, but she does nothing more than stare, scrutinizing your presence.

“She found Eddie.” Steve offers, which causes her eyes to snap to his, attention caught by Eddie’s mention.

“She found him-” Her eyes flick to you, then move back to Steve. “Forest Hills. There’s too many people here, we’ll talk there. Don’t let her go.”

It’s been years since you’ve seen Nancy, and you’ve never spoken to her before- but suddenly you understand the rumors or her too sweet personality being foraged. The entirety of Highschool you managed to never cross paths, and you believed the rumors to be made up by bored students. At least you had until the story about the Halloween party.

Now, you’re sure that they were onto something. She doesn’t even say goodbye, just turns and stalks towards her car across the street. Steve sighs, and gestures back towards his car, everyone else piling in already.

Biting your tongue, you climb back into your seat, closing the car door and letting the mild irritation dissipate.

The drive feels longer than it truly is, Nancy drives ahead, being the first one to pull into the trailer park. She parts a few yards from a set of picnic tables. When Steve parks, you sit for a moment in the car, hesitant to listen to more unpleasant occurrences happening in Hawkins.

You’re the last one to get out of the car, walking towards the picnic table and taking the only free seat, between Steve and Dustin. And directly across from Nancy. You try not to let the fact that she watches every move bother you.

The entire time that Nancy and the rest exchange stories, you remain silent. Soon, they let you speak, telling them how you had found Eddie and helping them explain Eddie’s experience.

“So you’re saying that, this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy, it’s from the Upside Down?” Nancy asks, processing what she’s been given.

“If the shoe fits.” Steve responds, and you hold back a snort.

“Our working theory is that he attacks with a spell or a curse.” Dustin begins to say, diving into what he and Eddie had concluded in the boathouse the prior night. “Now, wherever or not he’s doing the bidding of the Mind Flayer or just loves killing teens, we don’t know.”

Before you can ask what a Mind Flayer is, Max speaks. “All we know is this is something different. Something new.”

Nancy shakes her head, her face pinched in frustration. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s only a theory.” Dustin is cut off.

“No, Fred and Chrissy don’t make sense.” She looks up. “I mean… why them?”

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place? They were both at the game.” Even to you, Dustin’s idea seems weak.

“And near the trailer park.” Max says.

You look up, unsettled and meeting Steve’s eyes right before he speaks your mind. “We’re at the trailer park.”

“Should we maybe…” You look around, the entire place seemingly stilled. “Not be here?”

“There is something about this place.” Nancy speaks over you, and you manage not to roll your eyes. “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”

Robin leans forward. “Acting weird as in…?”

“Scared.” Nancy continues. “On edge. Upset.”

The wind picks up, and you wrap your coat tighter around you, listening to her words and letting them settle.

“Max said Chrissy was upset too.” Dustin remembers, the dots connecting and revealing a little more at a time.

“Yeah, but not here.” She reverses the statement. “She was crying in the bathroom at school.”

Slowly, it clicks into place, your mind adapting to follow the clues and search for leads, eventually leading to one regulation. You have to shake the hesitation before you speak, push away the fear that you’ll be looked down upon if you’re wrong.

“Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right?” You say, looking at Steve for support before going on. “So, maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this…Vecman-”

“Vecna.” Dustin corrects.

Steve ignores him,scratching at his jaw with a sort of leisure, which eases the sting of your embarrassment. “I don’t know about you guys, but if I say some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone.”

“Maybe they did.” Max nods. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms, Kelley’s office. If you saw a monster, you…you wouldn’t go to the police. They’d never believe you. But you might go to your-”

“Your shrink.” Robin finishes.

As if sharing one mind, everyone jumps into action. You stand from the table, heading towards the car, ready to follow your leads. Halfway to the car, you hear Steve’s voice calling after Nancy.

“Whoa, whoa. Nance. Nance!” He attempts to stop her before she can get further. “Nance, where are you going?”

She turns, a look on her face that tells you she’d rather not tell him- let alone anyone else standing here. “Oh, there’s just something I wanna check on first.” She keeps walking, trying to ignore his pressing.

“Something you wanna share with the rest of us?” You ask without thinking, earning a narrowed look from her and a nod of agreement from Dustin.

“I don’t wanna waste your time.” She says to Steve. “It’s a real shot in the dark.”

“Yeah, okay, are you out of your mind?” He asks, his voice taking an edge. “Flying solo with this Vecna creep on the loose?”

You lean towards Robin, keeping your voice low. “Isn’t she dating the Byers boy?” Robin snorts, and you fight a smile while Steve keeps talking.

“No. It’s too dangerous. You need someone to…” He taps his fingers against his leg, then turns and tosses his car keys to Robin. “Here you go. I’ll stick with Nance, Alright? You guys take the car, check out the shrink.”

Robin scoffs softly and gestures to his car with the keys. “I don’t think you want me driving your car.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“I don’t have a license.” She says as if it were obvious, the keys jingling in her hands as she moves her arms.

“Why don’t you have a license?” He asks, almost offended by her admission.

“I’m poor.” The answer is simple enough.

Max chimes in all too eagerly. “I can drive-”

“No!” Steve’s reaction is immediate, complete with horror and an accusatory finger. “Never again- Please, anybody but you. No.”

Dustin makes a face, as if suggesting he could drive and Steve quickly denies him as well. You don’t even make an attempt, though you’re likely the only other capable driver here.

“Alright, okay. This is stupid.” Robin reaches into Dustin’s backpack, pulling the second Walkie-Talkie from the pocket before stalking towards Nancy. “Us ladies will stick together. Unless, you think we need you to protect us?”

Steve answers with a tight lipped and fake smile, obviously upset by the way she’d handled the situation. Nancy shrugs and turns her back, following Robin to her car.

“Be careful.” Steve raises his voice towards them, Robin raising a peace sign aim response.

“Just gonna stand there and gawk?” Dustin asks, pulling Steve’s attention away from the retreating pair of girls.

“Shut up.” He turns back to the car, walking towards the driver side.

Dustin presses more, for his own amusement. “Why don’t we go? Okay?”

“Shut up and get in the car.” Steve tells him again, walking past Max as she climbs into the backseat. “And wipe your feet.”

Dustin stares straight at him, sticking his leg into the car and wiping his dirty shoes on the floorboard, pissing Steve off further.

“Are they always like this?” You ask Max, sitting in the back with her while Steve yells at Dustin in the front.

She nods. “All the time.”

Steve begins to drive, and not then minutes down the road, the crackling sound of the radio brings to echo through the car- a voice filtering through desperately.

“Lucas?” Dustin scrambles for the radio, answering as fast as he can. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Just listen.” The boy on the other end pleads, sounding no less anxious. “Are you guys looking for Eddie?”

Dustin clicks the button. “We found him, no thanks to you.”

“You found him?” The static becomes thicker and thinner between words.

“A boathouse on Lipton Road.”

“My boathouse.” You say to no one in particular, not earning an answer.

“Don’t worry, he’s safe.” Dustin continues.

“You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?” The tone he takes is more aggressive, betrayal laced.

“That’s bullshit.” Dustin argues. “Eddie tried to save Chrissy.”

Lucas is quick to answer. “Then why do all the cops say he did it?”

Before Dustin can reply, Max reaches across the seat and takes the radio from his hands, raising it to speak. “Lucas, you’re so behind it’s ridiculous, okay? Just meet us at the school- we’ll explain later.”

“I can’t.” He sighs. “I think some real bad shits about to go down.”

She frowns. “What are you talking about? What bad shit?”

Static. He doesn’t answer, not even when Max calls his name a few times in hopes of a response. She continues to try, until eventually giving up, and in less than twenty minutes, you’re in the middle of a neighborhood.

The therapist's house is just like any other, placed on a suburban lawn with equally as quaint neighbors. You’d never suspect that a Highschool student was about to steal the key to confidential information from a school official for the sake of ending the terror of some Vecna monster.

From the car, you watch as Max rings the doorbell and Ms. Kelley answers. They speak for a miner before she allows Max inside, closing the door behind them.

“Okay, she’s in.” Steve says.

Dustin, still not over their spat at the trailer park, spits back with annoyance. “I’m missing collarbones, not eyes.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, bewildered.

“So,” His voice takes a more serious tone, forgoing the question you ask. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

Steve looks away from the house to finally glance at him. “Sorry, talk about what?”

Dustin’s eyes widen, he raises his brows as he speaks. “You’re temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance?”

You huff out a laugh, settling in to hear the conversation, giving it your full attention.

“First of all, that’s not what happened.” Steve narrows his eyes at Dustin, not expecting it when you are the one to answer.

“Pretty sure that’s what happened.” You offer a sheepish smile when he gives you a look.

Dustin readily agrees with you. “It was public, there were a lot of witnesses.”

“Are you implying I still have a thing for Nance?” Steve acts offended with the slight suggestion.

“No, he’s not implying.” You can’t hide the smile that spreads on your face, though it’s born of the enjoyment you take in the drama.

“I’m stating.” Dustin adds. “And, as it relates to your steadfast refusal to date Robin, it’s pretty much the only logical explanation.”

“That’s not the only one.” Steve doesn’t hesitate, and it results in a barked laugh you can’t stifle, realizing that Dustin doesn’t have a clue. “And as for Nance- I was just trying to protect a friend. A friend, Henderson. Okay?”

“Okay.” He relents, but the disbelief is evident in his tone and demeanor.

“I don’t wanna find her in the morning with her eyes sucked out of the front of her skull by this Vecna creep-“

Dustin speaks through a short burst of laughter. “You’re like, bright red in the face right now-”

“No I’m not- I don’t wanna talk about it. I’ll punch you so hard in your face that your teeth will fall back out-”

“Whoa.” You cringe.

“Too far.” Dustin frowns at Steve, and your gaze moves between them, watching the guilt settle into Steve’s eyes.

“Not cool. Sorry.” Steve apologizes.

Dustin accepts it immediately, the tension easing just slightly. “Not cool. It’s okay.”

And as most men do, they settle it over a fist bump, which only makes you laugh again to yourself in slight disbelief. But before you can fall back into conversation, Steve looks out the window just as Max begins to walk out and rushes to the car. “Here she comes, here she comes.”

She climbs in quickly, ordering Steve to drive, yelling at him when he doesn’t quickly enough. He starts the car and speeds off, the movement pressing you into the back of your seat and squealing coming from the tires.

[coockie8]

thinking about the scene in Reign Storm where Vlad is helping them finish building the Ecto Skeleton, and in the scene where he's building it, he's in this like pinkish button down and overalls, but then in the next scene, he's putting his suit jacket on, and he's back in the clothes he usually wears.

This implies that he just... Willingly got fully changed right there in the lab in front of everyone and I love that so much lol The whole Fenton clan (minus maybe Jazz I can't remember if she's there) just saw Vlad in his underwear in their lab at least once and Danny like actively watched, 'cause Vlad was still getting changed when Danny taunts him about how much Jack and Maddie love each other 😂

[stomach-rental]

While I've been at work we have these little cards and such we can draw on to put people's names for, but I thought they kinda looked like Pokemon cards. I. Don't really know how Pokemon TCG works but I know I like these guys and I think coming up with moves for them to use and giving them stats can be fun, even if they aren't especially accurate

Feat. my gel pen that would Not Dry Fast Enough and smudged so much

Getting in Deep and all the characters shown belong to @peachnewt!

[blkkizzat]

❝DIGIMON—BUT MAKING U CUM IS MY REAL HOBBY!❞

⏯ OTAKU!GOJO X BIMBO!READER

⏭ summary: your best friend gojo is a hopeless otaku virgin with zero rizz that's still obsessed with digimon—despite being a grown ass man. you're a slut who despite her best whoring efforts—can't cum. you'll take his v-card and he'll fix your broken pussy, deal? college au.

⏭ cw: virgin!satoru, gentle sex then rough sex , spanking (ass & pussy), slight sugar daddy/baby dynamic, coercion, dubcon, ecchi/pervy/freak nasty satoru, apprehensive bimbo!reader scared to nut, reader is also a bit of a tsundere brat but this isn't brat taming per se, oral fixation, toe licking, riding, prone bone, missionary, pussy eating, deep-throating, forced gagging, fingering, squirting, edging, olfactophilia, hand-job, protected & unprotected sex, bdsm references, masturbation, bit of somnophilia, pet names: Bunny (reader is called that in lieu of y/n), suggestions of geto x reader, mentions of satosugu and shokohime.

⏭ a/n: in my crack smut bag again cause this white haired demon wont let me rest until i write this nasty shit. fr tho this fic 13.3k and literally 10k of it is Gojo fucking you six ways to sunday. fyi this is the same y/n from nerd!geto but this is a different version of that AU where suguru is the one who has rizz and satoru is the nerd. y'all better read this or i'll never write gojo again istg lmfao. also shoutout to @halosdiary for beta reading and telling me it was good enough to post lol.

eta: y'all won. its a series now lol

“FUCK YEAH, LET’S GO!!! I ALONE AM THE CHAMPION OF THE DIGITAL WORLD!!!”

Startled by Gojo’s sudden outburst—you nearly rolled off the bed. 

Thankfully Suguru is sitting next to you and caught you before you fell off completely. 

Fully energized by his win Gojo sprang up from his elaborate PC setup, bouncing around the room in celebration. Fist-pumping the air he couldn’t contain his excitement after winning the Tokyo Regional Qualifiers for the Digimon Online TCG. 

“Guys, hey guys! See! I told you I’d win! I’m the strongest! The digidestined!”

You and Suguru exchanged exasperated glances before side-eyeing the hell out of Gojo.

This went on for a good 10 minutes so you had since returned to mindlessly scrolling TikTok, not wanting to encourage your grown-ass-almost-22-years-old-best-friend’s excitement over a children’s game.

“You sure showed those middle schoolers, Toru.”

Suguru quips with a smile. He’s clearly being sarcastic but Gojo is unfazed—nothing could damper his mood.

“Damn straight I did!”

Both you and Suguru have to chuckle, rolling your eyes at his childish enthusiasm. 

Despite the shared sentiment of annoyance over your best friend’s hobbies, you both were just happy to have Gojo back again. Two long years had passed since his parents made him travel the world on a rotation program, tasked with visiting the various Six-Vision Industries offices he would one day inherit. 

Being the nerdy genius he was, Gojo stacked a mass of university level credits in high school. So even with missing the first two years of college he’d still be joining you as a third year at your university come fall. 

After being apart for so long it was refreshing to hang out again and kicking it at Gojo’s mansion had been a daily occurrence since the start of the summer. Although things had definitely changed in the two years Gojo had been away there was one thing that certainly hadn’t.

Gojo was still a fucking huge otaku nerd. 

You’d thought his time spent in the business world would have matured him. However, being abroad, away from his friends and spending all day around the ‘stinky old fogeys in suits’ as he called them, only made him retreat further into otakudom. 

That much was evident as his collection of posters, figures and manga had somehow only seemed to grow even with him away. 

“Alright, while I just would love to stick around and hear more about you destroying the dreams of 12 year olds Toru—beach girl just texted me, gotta bounce!”

Suguru tries to leave but Toru clings onto him practically spider monkeying himself onto his back in an effort to get him to stay. 

“Sugu! Don’t leave! We’ve already been apart from each other for too long~~”

Sighing, Suguru attempts to pry his incorrigible bestie off of him.

“Satoru, you just spent the last 5 hours playing Digimon acting like me and Bunny weren’t even here. I’m sure if you go back to playing you won't even miss me.”

Gojo continues to pout as he whines for Suguru to stay.

“But I miss you already Sugu!”

Gojo presses his cheek against Suguru’s as Suguru’s eyebrow begins to twitch.

“I know! Invite your date here! Our chef is 10 times better than any restaurant you’d go to and you know we have an infinity pool grotto and onsen!

While the offer was tempting as any potential date would be thoroughly wowed by the decadent splendor that was the Gojo Family Residence—Suguru would also thoroughly cuck himself once his date was given the grand tour. 

Particularly the stop which included Gojo’s anime figure and otaku memorabilia rooms. 

While a good number of them were harmlessly nerdy shonen or slightly ecchi isekai figures—the rest? Well the rest contained every kind of freak nasty hentai figure you could think of—shibari, futanari and even the classic La Blue Girl tentacle dioramas—it was like a horny museum. 

Although at this point it should be considered a horny mausoleum as no woman who walked in would be walking out still in the mood—it was surely a place where horny went to die.

“Uh yeah, sure next time Toru….”

Suguru reaches back to pat Gojo on the head reassuringly. 

Lying as he was more than certain there wouldn’t be a next time. There wasn’t even going to be dinner—this was purely a hookup situation. 

“...but she’s already waiting for me outside my place—gotta run!”

Realizing Gojo still wasn’t letting go, Suguru sighs realizing this would require him utilizing his Judo training. 

In one swift movement, Suguru manages to shoulder-wheel Gojo and toss him onto the other side of his massive bed. The bed rebounds as he lands, slightly lifting you off your belly but you still are more interested in your phone. 

This isn’t the first time Suguru has Judo thrown Gojo off of him (likely wouldn’t be the last either).

Saying quick goodbyes before Gojo could recover, Suguru manages to slip away.

“Traitor!!! So much for bros before hoes!”

Utterly dejected, Gojo crawls up next to you on his massive bed.

“At least I still have you here Bunny.”

“Uh, not to pile on but you know I’m only here until Shoko and Utahime text me they are ready to go to the mall, right? I’m in dire need of a new handbag!”

Now clinging on to you Gojo throws another small tantrum as the weight of half his sinewy body presses into your back, his lean muscular arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“Not you too, Bunny puhleeease!”

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers so it wasn’t odd for you, him or Suguru to be found giving the others platonic cuddles like this—often all together too. The both of them were always so much bigger than you so you often enjoyed the comfort and security of always being the filling in the cuddle sandwich.

Gojo rests his chin on your shoulder watching as you continue scrolling TikTok. You sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before his irritatingly hyperactive nature gets the best of him, and he starts poking around your phone to click on other videos that weren’t the 'mystery and makeup' ones you were watching.

“Toru, you know you could get a lot of your own hoes to hang out with if you weren’t such a huge otaku nerd…”

You had to swat Gojo’s hand away again as he tries to click on another prank video and he rolls off of you with a frustrated sigh. 

“...you’re almost as good looking as Suguru…”

Muttering the last part of that under your breath. Arguably Gojo’s features were just as if not more striking than Suguru’s. 

He was too hot himself for all of it to go to waste for being such a big dork.

“I’m sure Sugu would be happy to teach you ‘the way of the fuckboy’ if you asked Toru—that is if you’d actually go out clubbing like a normal 21 year old.”

“Why would I do that though? My house is 100 times better than a club!” 

Touché. 

While no one in your friend group was what someone would consider poor, Gojo’s wealth paled in comparison to anyone else’s and that went without saying. He’d had everything—if not more—than even the nicest tokyo club had. This was all thanks to his parents as socialites in their own right, often entertaining businessmen, dignitaries or foreign representatives with their ultra-exclusive parties.

“Besides, it wouldn't work—”

Gojo continued to pout.

“—Suguru would just get all the hoes anyway.” 

Easily able to walk up to even the most standoffish looking women, Suguru would have them reduced to bashful school girls in under 5 minutes. The women were always willing to hand over their numbers or drop any immediate plans to hang out with Suguru instead.

A good number of them had boyfriends already too.

Yet despite having the looks, Gojo opening his mouth ruined any advantage his lustrous blue eyes, exotic snow white hair and sharp handsome features gave him.

“Well, Suguru has a normal 21 year old’s room for starters, Toru. Not full of nerdy ass anime posters and Digimon tournament trophies.”

Gojo goes quiet. 

Driven from an early age to fill his head with knowledge of politics, technology, and international business relations, he spent the precious free time he did get with his friends or consumed by his own interests. Interests which just happened to be a bunch of otaku shit—Digimon in particular. 

It was an escape he’d cherished as a child and that didn’t change growing into adulthood either, if anything he needed it more now.

When Gojo doesn’t answer you look over to see him actually sulking for real now—face buried in a giant Agumon pillow plushie. 

What a crybaby. 

But the crybaby was one of your besties so you decided to lighten the mood and tease him a little.

“Ya know Toruuuu….you could just fuck Sugu then. Don’t think I haven’t seen y’all get a lil’ handsy during our cuddles!”

You give him a playful smirk and mime grabby hands at him.

“Oh and you haven’t? Don’t act like you wouldn’t fuck Suguru either!”

No longer appearing mopey, Gojo is up and laughing again. Mission Accomplished.

“Hey! I never said I wouldn’t but this isn’t about me, this is about you finally getting some play!”

You snap back but you’re blushing.

Like damn, who hadn’t thought about fucking Suguru though? 

“It's not the same if he makes me bottom! Plus no one thinks I can get pussy!”

Gojo grumbles, hugging his Agumon plushie to his cheek. 

You can’t help but notice how cute and baby girl he looks all pouty. 

He’d definitely get women lining up around the block of his huge ass mansion if he could at least get to the dating phase without giving out the otaku ick. 

“Because you can’t Gojo—Hoes don’t want to fuck guys who play Digimon!”

“But you’re a hoe and you like digimon too!”

Turning to look at him, you’d had half a mind to slap the shit out of Satoru but he had said it so earnestly. There was no sass nor malice behind his words. 

Besides, you were a hoe. That wasn’t something you ever denied.

You sigh. 

“Yeah I am a hoe now and I—keyword—liked Digimon. But that was back when I was a kid, Toru!”

Gojo scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Listen, you’re my friend so m’gonna keep it a buck with you—a guy concerned with being digidestined is definitely not pussy destined, you digidork!”

You playfully hit him with the pillow you were laying on, not wanting him to start sulking again. 

Finally stimulated by something interesting Gojo wastes no time joining the pillow fight you initiated and you tussle with him on the bed until you both are exhausted and out of breath. 

Of course you come out of it victorious though. By the end you’d pinned both the pillows and Toru under you. 

Gojo however is back to pouting.

“Ugh, Bunny seriously though—I can’t go into junior year of college as a virgin!”

You smirk at his complaints as the answer is obvious.

“Throw away your figures and digimon cards then.”

“I’d rather die.”

“A virgin? At this rate you will.”

Gojo huffs in defeat as you settle comfortably on top of him this time. 

You’re about to reach for your phone again until you see a curious look flash across his face—the kind of look he always had as a kid when he thought of a hair-brain scheme that would lead to getting you all in trouble.

“Toru—what is it? And why do I have the feeling m’not gonna like it?”

You pull away cautiously, but his large hands grip your waist, stopping you and causing you to squeak in surprise.

“Hm, I dunno—was just thinkin’... why don’t you fuck me, Bunny?”

Your deadpan expression has Gojo scrambling, holding you closer in a vice grip when you try to squirm away. 

“Hey! Wait, I’m serious! Come on, Bunny! I need the experience and you always tell us about all your hookups! You have the experience—help a guy out!”

Staring at him skeptically you considered.

I mean sure, you always thought Gojo was attractive, more so since he returned this summer nearly a half a foot taller—but he was Gojo Satoru.

Your dorky, goofy, pervy otaku bestie practically since birth! 

You couldn’t just go and fuck him could you?

God, you could only imagine the taunts you’d get if word got out. Your friend group would never let you live it down! 

“Nah Toru—that would be too weird!”

“Huh, how come? You said I was almost as attractive as Suguru earlier!”

You stiffen.

Fuck, he’d heard that after all. 

“Ooo, ooo! Annnnd, you said last week you wanted a sugar daddy… Well, hi! I’m right here!”

The huge grin on his face has you frowning although more so because he was actually making some sense for once. I mean you were half-joking when you said it—well, let’s be honest not really. 

However, you mostly said it because while your family was well off enough, you still weren’t living in the lap of luxury by any means like a Gojo clan member. Unfortunately for you though, you were born with the expensive tastes of someone who was. So while you could afford a cute Chanel bag or a MCM wallet here or there, you’d set your sights on something higher—a coveted Hermes Birkin. 

Toru certainly could afford to buy you a whole truck load of them with what his family made in less than an hour. 

Nevertheless that wasn’t really the issue at hand. 

In spite of you being far from a virgin, there was actually a good reason why you wouldn’t be a good choice for Gojo to lose his v-card.

“Er, em—that’s really not the issue, Toru…” 

Trailing off you’re the one pouting now as you glance at your nails. 

“Then what? Don’t tell me our lil’ Bun Bun is shy now? Over lil’ ol’ me?”

Gojo teases you by sticking out his tongue—chuckling when you snap your head up to glare at him.

“You wish…” 

You grumble, chewing your lip now and debating whether or not to tell him the truth while Gojo looks at you with wide and glassy puppy eyes. Shaking your head you come to the conclusion you could trust him with your secret. 

He was the virgin otaku after all—he’s the one who should be embarrassed here!

“It’s just that…I–I can’t cum.”

Gojo just blinks at you. 

Clearly confused with metaphorical question marks surrounding his head as that's definitely not the answer he was expecting.

“I’ve slept with plenty of guys before but I never had an orgasm. I don't even really get close—I mean, sure, it feels good, I guess—mostly just a little weird. I heard some people just can’t and maybe that's me.”

You shrug, a bit nervous to look Gojo in the eye as you thought he may tease you further about this but was lost in contemplation. Almost as if he was seriously trying to do the biological math around what you’d just told him.  

After about a minute more he finally asks—

“—Does Suguru know?”

A simple question, unloaded in tone as Gojo is genuinely curious but it leaves you flustered nonetheless. 

“What?! Are you crazy?! Why would I tell him?!”

“Just figured if anyone could then—”

“—Hell no, Toru! Besides, what if he does? I’m not trying to be reduced to a fuckboy’s pick me if he ends up being the only man alive who can give me an orgasm!”

Sure Suguru was hot as fuck—as was a lot of your other fuckboy friends (Toji and Sukuna)—but you definitely didn’t want to end up like the dickmatized girls that would follow them around and literally box each other in the streets over some cock. 

You weren’t much of a fighter anyway and your face was far too cute to be getting scratched up.

Pussy should be put on a pedestal, not the other way around. You’d continue to be orgasmless before it came to that.

“Mm, but Shoko and Utahime know?”

You’re blushing more than ever this time.

“Um, yeah—T-They said once I realized all men were worthless to call them and they’d give me multiple of them.”

Gojo snorted at that but he was now convinced you both could help each other. 

“So we have no other options—then it's settled!”

In one fluid motion Gojo snatches away the pillows from between you and swaps positions—now with you on the bottom.

“Huh–wait—Toru!?”

Gojo groans.

“Come on, Bunny! I want pussy, you want to cum on top of getting that Bikram bag—

“—Birkin bag.” 

You corrected him.

“Yeah that one! So let’s help each other out, eh?  PULHEEEASEEE—Just the tip?”

You weren’t at all convinced that Gojo—whose sexual knowledge came purely from JAV, hentai and onaholes—could make you cum.

But then again sure, fuck it, why not?

You were getting bored waiting for Shoko to call you anyway and if Toru was willing to come off a Birkin for a lil’ pussy, you might as well fuck him. 

None of the other guys you had fucked even came close to making sex this worth it. Frankly this would be worth it even if you didn’t actually cum.  

“Fiiiine Toru, let’s have sex—”

“FUCK YEAH!”

“—BUT we’re laying down some ground rules!”

Sitting up with a straight back, Gojo obediently awaited your orders.

“Anything you want Bunny, name 'em go’on!”

Gojo’s overenthusiasm was like a puppy and you were sure if he had a tail it would be thumping on the bed like crazy now. 

You wanted to crack a smile but you know from prior experience that if you give men an inch they will take the whole goddamn mile—and Gojo of all people was no exception—so you are firm as you sit up to look in his eyes and lay down the law.

 “First—like you said, just the tip.”

Gojo started to protest but the raise of your eyebrows had him changing his tune immediately.

“Got it! Got it! Just the tip would be amazing Bunny, what else?”

He chided himself and you continued.

“And secondly, just because you bros have no loyalty, it’s still ‘chicks before dicks’ over here. You better get your nut quick cause I’m still leaving to go purse shopping when Shoko and Utahime call me.”

Gojo waves you off with that rule. 

“Psh, we should have plenty of time, it's almost 6pm! They’ve probably been too busy bumping their own purses together to go shopping with you for one. You haven’t heard from either of them in hours!”

Fair point—wildly out of pocket, but fair. 

Still. 

“Bumping Purses!? Really, Toru?”

“You know I’m not lying—but that’s it then, right Bunny?”

Not waiting, Gojo throws his shirt off and starts fumbling with the ties on his sweats before you stop him.

“Nah, Toru, hold your horses! One more rule!”

Freezing mid-action, Gojo's hands are shaking as he expectantly gazes at you, waiting for the last condition before you give him the green light.

“Finally, third—and most fucking importanly—if you make any, and I mean even just ONE—otaku reference, especially Digimon while you’re inside me I’ll snap your lil’ digidick off, understood?”

Gojo swallowed. 

Hard terms to live with but something he would be willing to abide by for pussy.

“Yes ma’am! Got it! Just the tip, you will ditch me for the purse bumpers and no Digimon!”

Gojo repeats your rules matter-of-factly. 

You roll your eyes but are satisfied enough he understood and you wave him off in the direction of your bag.

“Good. Now, be a good boy and go get a rubber out of my purse.” 

Bolting over to your purse Gojo grabs a pack of condoms and is back on the bed in an instant.

Reality sinking in on what you were about to do and who you were about to do it with, you suddenly become hyper aware, appraising Gojo. 

You note just how much in the two years since high school he’s grown. Still a bit lanky in areas but overall he filled out more for sure and his muscles were much more defined rippling underneath his skin as he eagerly clambered over you. Gojo still possessed the same piercing sky blue eyes that lit up a room but they looked all too predatorily hungry now that he was hovering over you. 

You swallow.

You’d feel almost completely out of control of the situation if it wasn’t also for the bundle of nervous energy radiating off of Gojo—his hands spasming like he might bust his pants the moment he touches you.

You try to maintain your composure, but your jaw drops and your eyes widen in shock when he finally pushes his sweats and boxers down in one swift motion.

Gojo was fucking huge!

“Toru—what the actual fuck?!”

Third leg was a massive understatement. 

I mean you didn’t think he’d be small—you’d been around him enough in boxers, sweats, pjs, etc growing up—but you didn’t expect this. 

He was definitely a grower and Christ did he just fucking grow!

Gojo looked puzzled until he followed your wide eyed gawking down to his lower half. 

Heh. 

“Am I the biggest you’ve seen, Bunny?”

Growing prideful Gojo pokes at you a bit and your ogling only grows more incredulous. 

You didn't know if he was the girthiest but certainly the longest by far. He’d actually puncture a lung if he stuck that whole monstrous thing in you!

It would literally have to be just the tip and you are thanking God right now that he’d already agreed to those terms. That would be much too uncomfortable to cum from and you are beginning to question how the pornstars manage. This wasn’t a JAV but Gojo, if his company ever went belly up, certainly had a promising career on OnlyFans ahead of him.

Gojo’s chest puffed up ten times more from your staring as he slipped the condom on (which only fit two-thirds of the way down). 

“O-Ok, Bunny now you!”

His cock throbbed more violently the longer you looked at him. The anticipation is contagious to say the least and you can't help but feel your chest warm at his eagerness. 

Gojo wants to get the attention off of him and you smile at him knowingly.

“You mean you don’t want to take my clothes off yourself?”

The thought never occurred to Gojo but he dumbly nodded. Your yelps echo in the room as his massive hands are on your hips faster than lighting pulling you towards him. 

The motion causes your tits to jiggle, the soft mounds moving freely beneath your spaghetti strapped halter and Gojo berates himself on how he only now is noticing you weren’t wearing a bra all this time. 

Gojo’s mouth goes dry at your nipples, already peaked and poking through the thin fabric. 

Your nipples pucker further when the crisp air of the A/C hits them after Gojo pulls your top overhead and you arch up to assist, not realizing you presented yourself to him like a treat to a dog. 

“T-Toru!!!!”

Gojo wraps his strong sturdy arms fully around your body. Pressing his face deep into your chest as his warm wet lips latch onto a nipple. His mouth now suctioned to you, Gojo swirls and flicks his tongue around the hardened bud. Gojo moans around your flesh, pleasantly surprised at how addicting the sweet salty taste of your skin is. 

If Gojo wasn’t sure he had an oral fixation before he surely knows now. Zoning out everything else except for the sloppy sounds of him worshiping your breast, he relishes the contrasting textures of his rough tongue suckling the soft skin of your swelling bud. 

Gojo surely would have been latched onto you for hours and you are only able to pry his head away when he releases your nipple with a wet pop to take a breath.

“TORU!!!”

You’re panting and red faced as you yank his head back. 

But Gojo is a man solely focused—tongue hanging out off his mouth captivated by how cutely your areola puffed as it glistened with his spit and fighting overwhelming desire to get the other one in a similar state.

“Huh–Bunny, b-baby—you taste so good n’ your tiddies are so nice—so fuh-kin’ soft.”

Gojo’s tongue is hanging out of his mouth drooling as he attempts to dive back into your chest. you feel his heavy cock on your thigh as his hips begin to rut against you. 

This was too much!

“Stop Toru! You’re being too rough, they are sensitive! Besides, times’ ticking! Remember I have no problem leaving you blue balled if Shoko or Utahime call me!” 

You do your best to give him a disapproving look as you blush.

“Awe but you seemed like you were liking it, you were whining loud enough.”

“Shut up n’just get on with it!”

“Yes ma’am~~”

Enjoying your breasts so much Gojo almost forgot he hadn’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. 

Making quick work of your shorts, Gojo manages to pull them down just over your core but is stunned once again as he burns the image of the skin-melding fabric of the mesh hot pink g-string covering your cunt. The thin satiny straps dug into your supple hips amplifying your curvaceous form.

Fucking slutty as hell!  

Rivaling that of even his most favorite and most scandalous hentai figures. 

This was so much better, so much more lewd as the clingy fabric struggles to cover the fat of your plump pussy lips—not like the transparency of them left much to the imagination. 

God help him, he just wants to tear them off with his teeth and open mouth swan-dive into your dewy lil’cunt—-pushing his tongue deep into your peachy core tongue fucking orgasm after orgasm out of you until he drowned in your milky nectar—but he has to restrain himself.

You probably wouldn’t like that too much given your reaction earlier and he’d die if you’d happen to just call the whole thing off.

Mouth drying and hands twitching—Gojo is trying so hard to be a good boy and contain his more perverted instincts.

“Earth to Toru! Y-You good?”

Gojo looked like a tightly wound coil ready to pop in every sense of the word and you hated that his nervousness was making you nervous too. 

So on edge you almost jumped once his eyes snapped up to meet yours.

“G-Great, Bunny…j-just fine.” 

Gojo’s voice falters, becoming more pitchy and you giggle. As much as Gojo wants to look at your pussy as he peels the flimsy moist fabric off of them he couldn’t do that at this moment—he would actually bust his pants.

Instead, Gojo leans in to kiss you, but you block him. He ends up kissing your palm instead.

“Toruuu… that be too weird, we’re friends remember?”

“Yeah friends who are fucking, Bunny! You mean you won’t let my tongue in your mouth but you’re letting my dick inside your pussy?!”

You knew it sounded nonsensical even before he said it back to you. But your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you could barely hear him anyway.

You didn’t know what you were scared of this time? 

You had let all your other previous hookups makeout with you but Gojo was different. 

This felt entirely different.

You didn’t know why, you just knew it was and you were apprehensive of the unfamiliar emotions he was stirring in you and this wasn’t supposed to be anything more than an arrangement between friends.

“Don’t you need to warm up tho Bunny? Obviously m’no pro at this—but even I know a little bit more foreplay is usually needed?”

Your heart beats louder at his concern but you push that aside trying to focus on your breaths. 

Satoru should have been the easiest lay but for a reason that alludes—you were coming undone before him.

“Shut up Toru and just fuck me! The foreplay stuff doesn't matter, it won't make a difference anyway, m’not gonna cum! Also you’re big af so grab your lube. We're gonna need lots of it!”

Toru pouts but follows your commands without fuss. 

Although he’s anxious to get his dick wet he also is still thinking of how he can hold up his end of the bargain other than a stupid purse. 

You said he didn’t need to but he wanted to. 

The thought of finally losing his v-card excited him but there was something that made his cock throb harder at being the first man to give you an orgasm. 

But you don’t want him to touch you beyond what was absolutely necessary, so how was he going to accomplish that exactly?  

Gojo was a genius and had the IQ score to prove it, he’d be able to solve the problem once he was inside you, right? 

Turning back to face you after retrieving the lube from his nightstand, Toru has to grab the base of his cock this time to keep from prematurely coming in the latex that was already starting to thicken with his precum.

There you were laid out like a slut—panties pulled to the side—fingering yourself a bit to loosen up, having reconsidered his suggestion of foreplay when the twitching on your thigh reminded you of how big he actually was.

“OH SHI—”

You notice his jaw hanging open, utterly entranced as his eyes follow the motions. 

You knew you should be letting him do this to get the experience but honestly there was no sense in setting Gojo up for failure—delivering a significant blow to his ego when he inevitably couldn’t make you cum. You didn’t want to damage him even more if he felt it was his fault your pussy was apparently broken, you having tensed up completely every time a guy had tried before.

But you can’t deny you are getting some pleasure—if only through your own amusement—as you grab his cock and pump the lube he poured down his latex covered shaft, still fingering yourself—much to Gojo’s delight and wonder of seeing an actual real pussy up close. 

Gojo sucks in air and groans pitifully as your hand spreads the cool gel over his length which only intensifies his ache to be inside of you. 

“C’mere, Toru…”

You beckon sweetly, guiding him forward with your back against the pillows, you tease the crown of his tip through your folds preparing him for missionary. 

Gojo nearly bites a chunk out of his lip when his thick cockhead finally catches over your slicked entrance and you’re left wincing.

“T-Toru, e-easy—o-ok? Not too deep...”

A breathy confirmation shudders out of Gojo as he’s easing himself into your warm tightening cunt. The stretch is immediate which mentally confirms for you he is also the girthiest you’ve ever had as well. 

Your heels dig into his hips to brace yourself while he hovers over you, arms shaking.

“FUUUUUHHHH—”

Even with the rubber on, Gojo still thinks he might melt from how warm and tight you are—so much better than even his onahole with the custom grip and heating features. 

Screwing his eyes shut, Gojo has to count backwards from a million, recite Japan’s national anthem, list the GDPs of the top 10 wealthiest countries—anything—or he will cum too soon or worse, crack and drive his hips until he’s all the way to the hilt from the way your dangerous lil’ pussy is sucking him in.

God, it felt like your slutty cunt had a mind of its own calling for him to push in a lil’ deeper, greedily begging for him to go a lil’ further but Gojo resists. 

Sweat beads on his brow from the exerted effort of sheer willpower to keep his promise to you.

To Gojo’s credit, he really is doing his best, only a little less than a third but due to his length that's still a lot. 

Your eyes wander up to Gojo’s face and away from where he is wholly splitting you open, lest you clench on him even tighter and you knew you needed to relax. Even if you weren't really feeling much but the overwhelming strain from the tight fit, looking at Gojo you were happy that he appeared to be in bliss at least. 

His eyes still squeezed shut, mouth hanging open and spittle flowing down his jaw Gojo was in his own world as he continuously babbled nonsense about how perfect your cunt felt around him.

Just the tip in you for all of 20 seconds and already pussy drunk from just this much. 

“B-Bunny, Oh SHHIII–B-Bunny—m’cute Bun—FAH-ACK s’gud—m’gonna cum soon UHH–pussy feels s’good—oh-oh my god!” 

Although his entire body is quaking with pleasure, the few functional brain cells that survived the fiery blaze of your sinful lil’ pussy are still thinking of you. 

Gojo tries to give some attention to your neglected lil’ clit, but a single swipe causes your leg to jerk and you promptly push his hand away again.

“N-NO! Pleaseee, m’too sensitive Toru! J-Just focus on your thrusts! Y-You’re s’close, m’can feel your cock twitching i-i-inside me...”

Gojo wants to challenge you on this—suspecting from the way your cunt felt constricting around him you felt something pleasurable then—but he’s too far gone and much too inexperienced to keep focused on anything else. 

Especially when you are so explicitly describing him fucking you. 

Grabbing his face you bring your foreheads to touch to help calm him so he’d last a bit longer. Although you still hold his face to prevent him from kissing you, he's close enough that you're sharing the same breath, now looking into each other's eyes. 

He struggles to maintain eye contact though before the magnetism of your heated core had them rolling back again.

You're still not close to cumming, yet you are beginning to enjoy the warm comforting feeling of being this full as he holds you close, his short thrusts gaining momentum. 

Sharing intimacy with someone you actually cared about for once is really nice and you wouldn't mind having more sex like this even if you couldn't cum. 

Thumbing over Gojo’s moist lips you coo sweet praises to him as he desperately moans around your delicate appendage. Suckling your thumb between his lips and nursing on it until he can no longer contain the heavy breaths that overpower him and fan across your face. 

Sharing the same exhaled breath is making you light headed and you mewl at the keen sensations it stirs in your pussy that has him full on gasping now. Gojo releases the whiniest moan as he falls into you, unable to support his arms any longer. 

Showering your neck with open mouth kisses as his body curls more into yours.

However it all proves far too much when Gojo faltering more in his promise, slips more than halfway into your cunt—instantly filling the latex as it balloons inside of you as you scrape your heels against his back.

SHIIIIIT! He s’big! 

Despite nearly splitting your poor pussy into two at the end though, Gojo did such a good job for his first time. 

You’d forgive him just this once though as you wrapped your arms around his head, gently petting his undercut. His heaving breaths quiet under your soothing touches, finally ceasing the stream of his spit and tears that had been pooling in your collarbone.

Staying like that for a while holding him while his heartbeat calms to match yours and his length softens inside you. You close your eyes peacefully for a few moments before you hear your phone vibrate next to you. 

It's Shoko!

Shoko’s text apologizes for the delays and offers to get dinner instead—promising to go shopping with you and Utahime tomorrow since they got held up and you make plans for dinner in two hours. 

Perfect. That gives you plenty of time to clean up and get yourself presentable. 

“Did you cum even a lil bit, Bunny?”

Oh sweet baby, if you have to ask…You think to yourself but it's not poor Toru’s fault your pussy is out of order.

“Um, no Toru baby—but you did so well! Ya know you’re actually pretty cute and considerate when you get a little pussy. I’m sure you’ll manage to make any girl you happen to get naked happy!”

Gojo counters you with a disappointed look still panting slightly as he pulls out and rolls over bringing you towards him to cuddle. Allowing him, reasoning that you don’t have to get up right this second.

Yoour back meets his chest and it’s then you notice the condom still inside you. Figures since it was much too small in the first place. Yet you couldn’t complain as it managed to do its job due to Satoru not going all the way in. Breathing out you grimace a bit as you still had to give it a pretty good tug to lodge the filled latex out of your sore cunt. 

“Goddamn Toru, you were pretty backed up huh?”

Having witnessed the entire display from over your shoulder and the sight of the light blue rubber covered in your fluids while drooping heavily with his own has Gojo’s dick stirring again as you jiggle the rubber demonstrating its fullness before tossing it into the bin beside his bed. 

Conflicted Gojo broods for a while as he hugs you to him. 

While his body felt mostly satisfied, seeing you still unsatisfied put a huge damper on his mood. 

Sure you had told him you couldn’t come—but would any girl cum without much foreplay or stimulation? 

Even the darker hentais and JAVs he’s seen had more foreplay than this!

Hmmm... 

Thinking over the experience again in his mind he had a hunch that if right could cure your lack of orgasms but needed you to let him fuck you once more to be sure. 

“So you’re gonna hit and quit just like that, Bunny?”

He teases clinging onto you again when you try to maneuver out of his embrace.

“No time for more cuddles Toru—Shoko texted, we’re getting dinner in two hours.”

“Wait! Bunny! That’s so far away—Let me go again, pleeeease!”

Gojo is determined this time to make you cum for real! And, yeah you know—your slick heat sliding up and down his cock again would be a highlight too.

“Toru–”

“—Come on bunny! We solved my problem but we haven't fixed yours, you still haven't cum yet!”

“Toru, I thought we understood we were never going to solve my problem in the first place—so don't stress! Also I know this is probably the first time a girl has said this to you and actually meant it—but it's really not you!”

Gojo puts his negotiation face on. 

You wanted to play hardball? Bet.

“I’ll give you my black card for a whole week!”

Gojo turns you around to look him in the eye so you could see how sincere he was, he really wanted to try again—he knew he could make you cum this time!

You sighed. 

You couldn't really be mad at him—in fact, it was actually the cutest thing—that he wanted to keep trying for your benefit—but you didn’t see the point when it would just lead to the same result. You don’t even need to glance down to see Gojo’s cock was just as resolute as he’s already recovered and fully bricked—length pulsing against your ass. 

Well—given his last performance you were sure he’d last all of five minutes and if you had his black card for a whole week you were about to tear the entire Hermes store up—a Birkin and a Kelly in every color!

Hell, maybe you could even get the coveted baby pink ostrich one. 

“Mmm’kay, Toru—black card for a week! No limit!”

“Yup of course! Oooh no—Wait, no rubbers and I'll let you have my new g-wagon too! I hear raw sex is sooo much better you will cum for sure then Bunny!”

Well you knew a good bargain when you heard it.

Throwing the unopened condoms to the side you laid back down.

Imported European cars are stupid expensive to get in Japan and if he was coming off a g-wagon—especially as it was a custom powder blue matte with dune colored seats and shiny platinum rims—then he could have as many two-minute pump sessions as he wanted.

He’d likely pass out from dehydration in less than twenty tops anyway.

“Okay, but same rules as before except no cumming inside Toru! I mean it! It's too much of a mess to clean up after, it’ll be dripping all night especially all that you came last time…”

The thought of your gooey tender cunt weeping his nut for hours has Gojo’s balls tightening in want of making it a reality—but he knew if all went to plan you’d be begging for it! 

First—he needed you to take a more active role this time. He saw you settled back onto the pillows and that simply wouldn’t do. 

“Um Bunny, can you be on top? I-I’m dying to see what your cute tiddies look like jiggling all crazy like in my face.”

You cover your chest, frowning in offense at his more debauched ecchi preferences but you agreed nonetheless. 

Relenting as it’d likely have him cumming sooner and then you could finally get ready to meet the girls—all in your new g-wagon, although you’d definitely have to make up a lie as to how you scammed it out of Gojo.

Gojo takes your place on the pillows, amused as now it’s his turn to beckon you forward. Steeling yourself, you embarked on your climb to mount him. Tall and lean with wisps of hair sticking to his face Gojo looked more like he belonged in a painting, unnerving you that a face only an artist could sculpt admired your body with his lustful gaze. 

He was too sexy for his own nerdy ass good like this and you failed not to whimper when his strong hands settled at your waist.

Lube in your hand you smirk, gaining some confidence back when you hear Gojo hiss as the cool gel once again spreads down his fiendish girth that pulses restlessly at your touch. The sensation is all the more agonizing without the latex barrier hindering him as your, your silky smooth palm glided over his bare cock before tugging back the sensitive foreskin covering his crown head. 

Licking your lips you almost want to bend down and taste the pre marbling like a pearlescent jewel on his pretty exposed cockhead.

He’d probably cry like a baby if you did, you mused with a grin. 

Good God girl snap out of it! 

You chastise yourself—no, you had to focus and end this quickly before you lost your mind. The idea of fucking Gojo beyond what he could buy for you started to get more appealing and you couldn’t allow that.

Readying yourself to mount him this time you realize your pussy is quivering in anticipation of the stretch—it was uncomfortable last time so—why was your body reacting this way?

Your own pussy betraying you as she seemed to yearn for the opportunity to gobble him up, taking him in with less resistance in spite of you. Flexing around the thick intrusion inside your core you shiver in feeling the curve of every vein on his girthy cock as you lowered yourself onto him.

The way your pussy flexed as a jolt of electricity ran through you scared you—a new sensation bubbling up inside, threatening to make you lose yourself in the feeling.  Must be survival instincts you rationed—your cunt scared for its life never having encountered such an acute danger like Gojo’s dick before.

The burn was pleasurable this time, sucking in sharp breaths at every slight movement of him moving inside your core. Yet Gojo is in even more bliss—from the serpentine motion of your hips cascading over his own to how your your puffy pussy lips looked so wonderfully parted, stretched open around his cock—FUCK!

How was he going to complete his plan if his brain just started turning to mush everytime your dangerously succulent cunt grinded against him.

“O–ooo shiiiiiit!”

“Y-You okay, Bunny?”

Although Gojo himself looked like he was in agony his face was reddening from how good your raw gummy walls were surging around his length.

“Hhnng, fine Toru—y’er j-just big.” 

Gravity was your natural enemy in this scenario and you took him a bit past halfway this time.

Wanting to distract you, his large hands grope your tits but you knock him away—your stomach fluttering. 

“What's wrong, this time?”

“...s’n-nothing, it’s—just put your hands on my hips, it helps me so my legs don't get tired.”

You lied.

Well your legs were quivering but more pressingly your heart started to race and you didn't know if it was because a cock like this could actually relocate your uterus to your lungs or if you’d actually started catching something similar to romantic feelings for Gojo Satoru. 

Either one was unacceptable in your book.

“Hurry up and cum, Toru!” 

However Gojo is about to say something, your phone rings.

“I-Its Utahime…”

“Don’t answer Bunny! Focus or you’re never going to cum!”

“I can multitask, Toru! Besides, on the small chance I do I know it's definitely going to take longer than the two minutes you lasted before.” 

Hushing Gojo’s protests and eyes flaring at him to be silent, you answer the call. 

“Bunny!”

“Hime!”

You greeted each other with your usual peppiness—like Gojo wasn’t 6 and a half inches deep with 2 and half more to go—give or take—inside you.

“What’s up? Oh erm, what am I doing—”

A sly and haughty smile plays on his lips and you scowl at him.

“—I’m still at Gojo’s and no—I’m not doing much at all right now! Haha—yeah. I can definitely talk, of course!”

Gojo frowns as his eyes narrow and to placate him you start half heartedly rotating your hips.

You still looked sexy as hell though. Even with less effort expended it was still a workout as shown by the sheen of perspiration glowing off your body. That delectable sight combined with the light swaying of your tiddies was more than enough for him to cum if he just focused on himself.

But he was determined not to this time, not until you had.

“See Toru? They were helping Shoko’s parents!”

You stick out your tongue and he makes a face back at you.

“Oh what?—s’nothing—Ha! Well ok! He said you were too busy bumping pussies to go to the mall with me! Psh—typical am I rite? Huh—put you on speaker? LOL O-OKAY.”

Snitch! 

Gojo mouths to you offended you’d rat him out like this as Utahime’s voice shrills through the phone.

“Satoru you loser! You have to talk about our pussies cause you could never have one of your own in a million years!”

Snorting with laughter Gojo is more than amused. 

If only they knew.

You pale signaling at him to ‘STFU’ or he could finish himself off.

“Aww, is that so Utahime? I’m so hurt.” 

The mischief in Gojo’s voice is obvious—he’s clearly mocking you.

Annoyed with him getting the upper hand and feeling sassy, you pile on—

“Exactly Hime! I mean he might get some—but a total otaku like him wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy if he even ever got in—EEP!”

A heavy handed smack comes down on your ass—hard. 

The force ripples its way into your cunt causing you to feverishly tighten as your tongue pushes a low moan out between your lips.

“Oh ho ho—what's this? You actually like getting spanked huh, Bunny? You dirty, dirty girl…” 

Gojo is whispering again before his hand once more swats at that same cheek.

The sting causes saliva to pool in the corners of your mouth. 

If looks could kill Gojo would have died a horrible death—that is if you could focus enough to even glare at him. You’re absolutely mortified—too consumed by the spanks that fiercely rained down on your reddening bottom, your pussy getting shamelessly wetter with every hit.

“AH–FAHHH—”

“Bunny! What’s happened?!”

You hear Shoko’s concerned voice this time.

“N-N-Nothing, G-Gojo’s being mean to me cause I told on him! H-He pinched me so hard Shoko!”

“Liar!”

Gojo mouths again and his demeanor turns absolutely devilish. 

Oh? So that's how you wanted to continue to play? 

You were such a brat sometimes but then again so was he and his competitive nature soared at the challenge.

“Oh did I? Like this, Bunny?”

Gojo’s  palms cup your tits roughly before he pinches them, twisting your nipples causing the slobber that collected to dribble down your chin and onto your chest.

“Shiiii—T-Toru! S-STOP YOU A-AHHH–SSHOLE!!”

The grip his thumb and forefingers have on your sensitive buds intensifies and you can barely keep the phone in your grasp as you hold it out arm extended to keep your cries from being heard. 

With only one hand free there’s no way for you to worm nor pry his hands from your tits as you are still struggling not to sink lower and choke on your own tongue from the electrifying sensations assaulting your cunt.

This couldn’t be what it was like could it? This overwhelming feeling?

You didn’t want to admit it but as tear-inducing as the sensations were—they felt real fucking good. 

Your hips began involuntary rocking as your core now craved how Gojo’s cock scraped against your walls like it was trying to carve itself even deeper inside you if you’d let your hips drop just a little bit lower. 

“Toru! Stop picking on our Bunny! Don’t make us come over there and kick your ass!”

The sweat that now runs down Gojo’s brow threatens to blur his vision but he���s locked in and focused. The phone situation being so fucking raunchy combined with the way your pussy is creaming on him (despite you trying your hardest not to feel good) has him stressed. 

Swallowing he had to try hard to keep up the act as well as please you without cumming—it would be a feat if he accomplished it to say the very least.

God, this was all so shamefully vulgar. 

Did you do this on purpose answering the phone? 

He didn’t even know this was a kink of his—or yours apparently.

But your “problem” was now clear to Gojo:

It’s not that you couldn’t cum, it’s just that you were scared to cum. 

Any real stimulation triggered your fight or flight. 

You were perfectly capable, you just needed a bit of forcefulness—however the effect of it terrified you and you bolted from it every time you had sex with someone—until now. 

Heh, there would be no more running from the nut for his little bunny rabbit.

Gojo wonders how far into his ecchi depravity he can take you.

“Your Bunny, huh?”

Gojo's eyes squinted as if he could stare down Shoko and Utahime through the phone.

You were his. 

He was the one who was going to make you cum and frankly he didn’t give a fuck anymore if Shoko or Utahime heard it—in fact he wanted them too.

Planting his feet into the bed, Gojo’s form shifts as he swiftly grips your waist simultaneously bringing you down while driving his pelvis up—pummeling his entire length into your guts. The prickly patch of groomed hair at his base tickles your poor abused lil’ clit which had been forcibly nestled into them—the result of being smashed against his pubic bone. 

“FUHCCCK—MUTHERFUHH—SHHHH–HIIIIIT!!!” 

Vision momentarily blacked out and burning with tears mixed with your running mascara, your pussy still reeling from the sheer magnitude of Gojos long girthly length now all the way sheathed and practically tearing through your womb. Your eyes are firmly lodged in the back of your head, the electrifying vibrations cause you to drop the phone entirely. Your world is spinning from experiencing your first small orgasm that only increased intensity as your efforts to escape Gojo are in vain. 

Your cervix is screaming at the probing intrusion of his bulbous tip ramming so far up into you but Gojo has you anchored to him unable to flee from his onslaught of thrusts.

If you could string together a coherent thought you would have wondered if in fact your stomach had been relocated next to your lungs as you felt so full you couldn’t breathe. 

Your pussy violently spasms around his girth, creamy fluids seeping down onto his base from your cunt sloshing around him.  Gojo grips your cheeks spreading you wider increasing the squelching noises echoing from your cunt.

Shit though, Gojo thinks your perfect pussy might actually break his dick off from how fervently you were clenching him. 

Tongue fully lolled out of your mouth, you’re grasping onto Gojo’s shoulders for stability as your saliva drips down his pectorals.

“BUNNY!! Are you still there?? What’s that noise?”

Shoko and Utahime’s calls for you go unanswered. Gojo on the other hand is grinning, albeit through gritted teeth, pleased at how his long trunk-like cock is rendering you nonverbal. 

“Hehe, you definitely came a bit that time didn’t ya—ya nasty lil’ Bunny, don’t lie.” 

“N-N-Nooo T-Toru–s’like I-I c-can’t breathe—”

“Heh, a’course you can baby Bun—that's what it feels like when you cum, even I know that.”

SMACK!

Another firm smack to your ass has your cunt quivering wildly.

You feel like the virgin in this situation now—and honestly—are you not? 

Did those other dicks really count? 

It felt like you were having sex for the first time as this was a totally different experience even from the earlier round with Gojo.

“Don’t worry though, now that I know what kinda shit you’re into—I’mma take care of that pervy lil’ princess pussy sooo good, Bunny.”

Oh god—That couldn’t be true could it? 

Spanking? Nipple twisting? Having your insides pushed up to your throat? 

You didn’t actually like this kinda freaky shit did you?

Yet your body’s reactions remain true even if your mind doesn't want to accept the cause of the fire that is burning within you. Your pussy is in raptures at the feeling of being molded into the exact shape of Gojo’s cock—veins and all.

“HELLLOOOOO BUNNY!!!!”

Absolutely pleased with himself Gojo retrieves the phone.

“Awe p-poor thing, just stubbed her toe runnin’ from me. My—SHIII–room is—FUHHH—k-kinda a m-mess—S-See? I almost tripped just now too. Isn’t that right Bunny?”

Gojo brings the phone closer and you bat it away wishing he would just hang up and spare you the humiliation. Although humiliation seemed to be your new kink as mirroring his earlier actions as you’re pathetically moaning into his skin. Gojo’s masculine scent, mingled with the salty aroma of perspiration, floods your senses, making you feel even more lightheaded, increasing the sloshing of his cock buried deep in your cunt.

The crude noises that rang from your bodies squelching and slapping against each other renders Gojo unable to keep up the charade either. Making up a quick excuse—he has to go get ice for your toe—he quickly hangs up on Shoko and Utahime whose puzzled protests of concern he couldn’t give a single fuck about anymore. 

God fucking you while on the phone with them was so fucking hot, he’d have to get you to do it again—maybe with Suguru next time, he’d probably even be into it.

“Hey B-Bunny—y-you think Shoko and Hime were naked too?”

You groan.

This fucking hentai otaku perv—you already told him that they were helping Shoko’s parents! 

You want to glare, scream, chastise, get up—but you can’t—you’re at the mercy of him ruthlessly drilling up into your cunt and can only heave out tired mewls in reply.

“Fuuuck–imma cum again soon! Do you feel the way your naughty lil’ cunt is squeezing like she wants to wring me dry, wan’t me to give it all to your pussy Bunny?”

“N-Not i-inside m’pussy, T-Toru!” 

A devious smirk appears. 

Heh, yeah he promised not inside your pussy.

Without warning Gojo rips his cock out from your sopping core and manhandles you onto your back. Thinking he will simply cum outside somewhere you're finally able to breathe again and you exhale—only to feel his monstrous length being shoved down your throat.

Your eyes shoot open. 

Greeted with the image of Gojo's heavy balls in your face, his ball hairs tickle your nose as you gag around his girth straining your throat open wide. You think if he didn’t reach your lungs through your guts he certainly would now that he’s eight and a half inches down your esophagus.

“You said i couldn’t cum in your pussy Bunny, so let’s use that pretty lil’ mouth pussy instead—sweet fuck, ya know she’s almost tighter than your actual cunt.”

Your hands fly to the outside of his thighs pawing over the sweat glossed skin as you drag your nails down them, leaving welts in an effort to get him to ease up. The potent musk of your shared lust that had dripped down his balls was now rubbing on your face assaulting your senses. 

It was fucking nasty, so gross and yet your own pussy betrayed you—burning with an ache to be filled again at the smells that stimulated your own primal hedonistic urges.

“Awe, don’t be like that. I know you like it rough, yeah? I haven’t forgotten about you either baby.”

Gojo of course at this point isn’t talking to you but your cunt.

With one hand squeezing your already constricted airway, Gojo’s other snaked its way over your body and reeling it back before delivering a mean open palmed slap to your clit. 

The sound of your soaked cunt echoed through his room and he almost came from that alone as your fluids trickled out of you faster, further soiling his expensive sheets.

“This pussy likes being spanked more than those cherry cheeks of yours huh, Bunny? I know my filthy hentai pussy does.”

You’re obviously unable to answer but the way you’re gurgling moans around his cock lets him know this is exactly what you like. Thrusting two thick fingers into your quivering core his burly appendages bullied themselves in as far as they could go. 

“You know—G-God, FUCK you’re tight—Bunny, you know I read in an h-manga how girls can squirt from a lack of air and a little bit of prodding, s’ppose—S-SHIII—t’be something in here that sends em absolutely wild.”

Fingers searching deeper it's not until Gojo pulls back to add a third that he scrapes past a firm spongy spot that has your legs buckling.

Astonished by the amazingly sexy reactions of your body—Gojo’s eyes are blown out wide over how much your clit swells, your hole twitches and your juices spurt out of you as your tears run over your cheeks to wet his balls further. Gojo doesn’t even need to thrust as your throat tightens around him like crazy with him jamming his fingers into that particular spot over and over.

Lost in your own ecstasy you’re proven wrong as contrary to your belief you thought his otaku sex-ed would be to his detriment to his skills. However it's exactly because of all of the lecherous and depraved shit he collected and consumed did he know exactly what to do to you now that got you all messed up. Eyes lodged into your skull, squirting and practically blacking out with his dick stuffed down your throat on his long dexterous fingers abusing your cunt.

“SHIIIIIIT—”

With a keen grunt Gojo cums, pumping loads of viscous fluid down your throat forcing you to gorge on his thick cum. 

“F-Fuck Bunny are you a throat goat? M-Milked me dry...”

He’s still driving his pliable fingers in and out of you, his arms are shaking from his own orgasm but he doesn’t care. Nothing on earth could stop him from replicating the beautiful sight of your pretty lil’pussy spurting out juices that run all the way down his forearm.

“…heh, looks like I can milk you too, Bunny.”

Gojo finally dislodges his dick out of your throat but still runs a hand through your pussy folds to rub soothing circles on your clit. You whimper through your coughs as you spit up some of his cum, still gagging after what were mere minutes but seemed like hours of choking on his beefy cock.

Vision spotty, tremors run through your body—both ends so thoroughly fucked out—that it doesn’t register that Gojo is once again lifting your body bringing you towards the edge of the bed.

If you thought Gojo was going to give you aftercare from having used your body like one of his anime fleshlights, you’d be correct—but not before one last round. 

Lifting your hips off his luxe bed Gojo positions your wobbly legs on his shoulders. His eyes are blown out and crazed with his own twisted perversion. Weakened and spent himself as cock twitched from overstimulation but he’s never been a quitter—determined to make you cum again and again before one of you finally passes out.

Your toes wiggle and you keen as his tongue ravenously dips between your toes. Trailing his tongue past the arch of your foot to bite your heel.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Bunny—the best pussy in the whole world, how could you ever think she was broken? You were just waiting for me to use her huh?”

“S-shut up–Toru, j-jeez…”

Your windpipes had been fucked raw and you’re croaking which to your dismay only seems to turn Gojo on more and he’s tapping his tender engorged cockehead on your clit. Your brows pinch together as you bite back moans from his frenulum catching and chafing so wonderfully over your clitoral hood.

“Puhleaseeee, Honey Bunny! Let me fuck you a bit more now that we know you are as ecchi coded as I am, m’kay my pervy princess?”

The very thought shames you and you think your heart might seize from embarrassment if it doesn’t give out from pleasure first and your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest chest from all the pet names Gojo is bestowing upon you. 

“Toru…”

You try to reason with him through your defeated huffs as you press your legs shut together.

“...y-you made me cum from your fingers n’ your cock.. Y-You won. Pleaseee—I-I don’t even think I can cum any more.” 

Not convinced Gojo pushes your legs back.

“Oh, is that right? Let’s ask her then!”

Gojo delivers another smack onto your slippery pussy as if on the command of her new owner your obedient cunt immediately leaks a bit more creamy slick onto his palm.

“See, baby? She says you can though and that she’s tired of you running from it Bunny—”

Still hugging your legs together in his grasp, Gojo lowers himself to rub his cheek against your pussy like it was his favorite pillow. 

“Don’t fret my pervy lil’ pussy I won't let Bunny deprive you any longer from what you really need.”

You groan yet Gojo is more gentle this time as he gingerly rolls you onto your belly and lifts your hips to slide his giant Agumon pillow underneath.

Urgh, did it have to be this one!?

There's no time for complaints though once Gojo spreads your cheeks wide. A glob of spit hits your crack as his thumb prods against your shy puckering rear hole while he humps his cock between the fat of your thighs through your soggy swollen folds. 

“Shiiit imma fuck this tight lil’ bunny hole next time baby, m’kay?”

The threat causes you to shudder yet all your back talk and sass is gone from his illicit preparations as he elicits heady mewls from your hoarse throat. Your cunt flutters eagerly to have him fill you again as his fingers imprint themselves into your bottom.

The anticipation is so intense as bracing for his size ripping through you you nearly fail to notice Gojo is now humming to himself—humming—THE DIGIMON CHAMPIONS THEME SONG!?

OH HE HAD YOU ALL THE WAY FUC—

—And suddenly you’re screaming again, eyes glued to the back of your skull as his hips jerk forward, drilling his dick past your walls to pound directly into your cervix with the tempo of a  madman.

OH FUCK! …s’good!

You finally surrender letting your cunt control your brain as you throw ass back to meet his frenzied thrusts. Like a drug addict from the first real taste your pussy is already addicted to the feeling of his cock destroying you.

“S’toru–S’toru–S’toru–FUHHHHCK!”

His name fell from your lips like a mantra, the only word your brain—now thoroughly fucked smoothed—could remember.

The sight of you chasing your own pleasure as your ass slammed back onto his pelvis, your skin rippling as it bounced and splashed frothy fluids onto his abs sent him further into perverse degeneracy. 

“F-Fuck Bunny—baby, this pussy too good—We can’t tell Suguru for a while, kay? He’ll want to fuck you too and this pussy is just f’me. Suguru gets all the pussy s’tell me you’ll keep yours f’er me. Thought you were broken but you just needed my cock this whole time—”

Burying your face in the sheets bashfully at the mention of Suguru, your cunt pulls more taut around Gojo’s cock.

“—FUHH, g-go out with me yeah, Bunny? Love you s’much—SHIIIIT—buy you whatever you want—t-take you where you want—this dick s’yours Bun Bun—all yours!”

Plunging into deeper if it were even possible Gojo’s blunted nails drug into the fat of your ass and hips, it wouldn’t scar but it would certainly add to the inevitable bruising. 

“I’ll never even look at a non 2D woman again as long as I have you as my lil’ onahole—shit I’ll never even buy one of those again unless it's in the shape of your pussy—F-FUCK, w-wait–y-you think we could get one made in the shape of your pussy–my girlfriend’s perfect pussy?!”

It’s too much—too overwhelming and your mind is slowly but surely being corrupted by Gojo. Otherwise the image of him whining while fucking a onahole casted from your cunt as he watches you finger yourself would have never in a million years popped into your mind. 

Determined to see you unhinged in every respect, Gojo didn’t want to deny you pleasure but if he had to be a little mean to you so you could finally be honest with him then so be it. 

Slowly pulling out, your expression is near frantic as you look back at him. Your mouth gaping and babbling nonsensically for him not for him to stop—you were so close.

Gojo simpers, relishing in your cute cockdrunk face scrunched with confusion from him pulling out so suddenly. 

“W-Words baby, c’mon I just spilled my heart out here!”

Your pussy weeps longingly for Gojo’s cock as your body shakes with a yearning begging to be filled again. 

God help you, you want him. 

You want him and his sinfully curved demon dick badly, it’s all you could think about—Not even remembering what life was like before he so perversely rearranged your guts.  However, not only did he know how to hit all your spots, he knew you—and despite him completely disregarding all of the rules you had initially set, he was the first guy who actually cared about how you felt during sex, even if he was a perverted otaku.

There was simply no use in denying it any longer. 

You caved.

Tears streaming down your face as you hiccupped your admission of affections for him, red-faced and flustered.

“S’toru, I-I’ll be your girlfriend—need you n’need your cock s’much—”

Pressing the side of your face against the mattress you bring a shaky hand through your legs, fingers slipping over your slick as you part your pussy lips—your vacant core exposed and fluttering, begging for him just as hard.

“—m’also you’re onahole T-Toru, I promise i’ll only fuck you, j-just please keep fucking me, i wanna cum on your cock, want your cum in me Toru baby!”

You might die from the shame of it all once you sober up from being utterly cockdrunk and stupefied but all you could think about right now was Gojo’s hard dick laying heavy pipe back into your cunt.

Something snaps in Gojo.

Head over heels for you now, Gojo knew from that moment on he’d never let you go. 

Real or 2D—no could compare to you in Gojo’s eyes. 

Toru finally found something he loved more than digimon—your perfect lil’pussy.

And he was going to show her how much he loved her right now.

Taking what was so graciously presented to him this time around, you’re short circuiting once he’s finally inside you again your most base needs being satiated turning you into a cockfiendish whore crying for him to fuck you harder as you grip his sheets like you could rip them apart. 

His strokes become more merciless, unrelenting on your pussy and Gojo leans his weight onto your back, legs bent crouching on top of you, his hips becoming manic they thrashed forward in short heavy thrusts to hammer you into the mattress.

Gojo himself is beyond gone. 

Disregarding all promises of mentioning otaku shit while he was wrecking your cunt.  

“Fuck bunny this feels better then what I thought Agnewomon’s pussy would be like— you'd look so sexy in that cosplay. Gonna have you dress up for me and show you off at cons. I’ll buy you whatever you want, anything, the whole fucking world yeah? Just fuck—wear those those vibrating panties while you cosplay too, you’d like that?”

You tightened groaning at his debauchery, something that was not missed at all by Gojo who by this point had fucked his own self dumb in your angelic cunt. White strands of his hair stuck to both of your faces as he tiled your head back so he could see how desperately those little hearts danced in your dilated pupils before they were reduced to nothing more than mere splotches whiting out your vision.

“Fuck u really are a slut huh bunny? Tightening at the thought of all those otaku perverts looking at you in that skimpy outfit while I control the buzzing on that lil clit. But they can’t have you—m’the only otaku pervert that knows how to make you cum!”

Delirious with melodic honeyed cries spilling from you, you just wanted him to stop talking—pointing out every single time your body responded to his ecchi tastes becoming your tastes and now just yearning for a taste of him. 

Reaching back you’re pulling him down to smash your lips together. Messy, but you could care as Gojo tried to swallow your tongue fucking his own into your mouth with a force that matched his cock. If fucking you was heaven then kissing you was nirvana—he’d give you the whole world if he could keep fucking you like this forever.

Gojo needs you to cum again soon as the feral need breed your tummy until it swells with his seed has him losing the little sanity he even had to begin with. A virgin until today he’d saved up so much waiting for your tight cunt this whole time. 

Moving his lips away from yours only for air, your chest heaves harmonies cries from his hand weaving under your bodies. Jittery fingers swiped frantically over your clit, hurling you towards your euphoric climax as his lips descend back upon yours.

“Cum Bunny—I got ya baby.”

Deliberately plowing himself harder against your cervix, your body seizes up releasing tension into pure white energy that you swore was pumping through your every vein as an extension of your pussy as his heavy load spurts to paint your walls and sear your insides as his thrusts continue to swill his seed inside you, pushing it further into your womb—-thank fuck for birth control.

However that was the last thing you remember before you go limp, temporarily blacked out as you swear you’ve transcended to a celestial plane of existence. One where all slutted out souls went to escape from the unearthly pleasure they’ve been tortured by. You don’t know how long you’ve been out but you're squirming as you come back to consciousness. Realizing your now back on your back as your hips involuntarily rocking against something thick and wet. 

When you finally manage to open your eyes you're greeted by Gojo tongue slurping at your clit and lapping up the cum oozing out of your battered hole like it was a refreshingly creamy bowl of kakigori. His hands embedded themselves into your thighs pinning them to the bed nibbling on your clit and having your already overstimulated core climaxing on his tongue once more.

Strings of your sticky nectar connect his tongue to your cunt as he looks up at you. Having the audacity to grin lovingly at you as if he didn’t look like a downright starved and deranged man with a sheen of shared fluids dribbling down his chin. He’s pussy drunk once again this time buzzed off the pungent yet sweet taste of his cum marinating in your creamy tenderized cunt.  

Gojo is cheesin’ at you like he’s found his favorite spot in the world—and he had as far as he was concerned.

“You said it was too messy, remember Bunny? The least I can do to make it up to you is scoop every drop out of your runny lil’ cunt with my tongue! What kind of boyfriend would I be to have all this cum soaking my Bunny’s slutty little thong and spilling down her thighs while out to dinner—so I decided to have mine a little early.”

FUCKING HELL—DINNER! What time was it?! 

Disordented, your head is fuzzy and you could feel the soreness settling in your muscles. You didn’t think you’d be able to get out of this bed in the next 24 hours, let alone make it to dinner—if you hadn’t already missed it! 

“Nnnn, n-not like I can go anymore Toru, s’all your f-fault!”

Your bruised lips poke out into pout. Gojo chuckles at you how cute you look and he rises up from between your thick thighs to boop you on the nose as he gazes adoringly at you.

“I know princess m’sorry—I already texted Shoko saying you couldn’t, don’t worry~~”

But your eyes widened as you were now fully worried. 

Worried as to what the fuck Gojo actually texted them! 

“T-Toru—”

“—I just told them you weren’t feeling well, was that okay?”

Quickly assuaging your fears—you can relax a bit for now (although you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do later) as Gojo pulls you to him again and softly kisses your neck, hands returning to your ass to rub soothing circles on your chaffed skin. 

Relaxing again floods sleep into your eyes. A welcome godsend honestly, so you can process everything that just happened, especially Gojo aggressively fucking a love confession out of you. 

“And m’sorry if I got carried away Bun… but you were so good for me, so fucking perfect! Just relax and I’ll take care of you! I’ll handle everything—for you and your nasty lil’ cunt. I love you both and I’ll keep both my pretty girls happy forever! I promise!”

Gazing at you with cartoonishly sparkling eyes, you have to look away from Gojo lest your ears altogether burn up in embarrassment from his shameless and yet a hundred percent earnest vocalization of affections that somehow still got your heart racing.

“—oh and my parents will be here tomorrow—we can tell them right? They will be so excited! They've been telling me since I was little I shouldn’t let you get away! Ooo! Ooo! Maybe now that we're dating they’ll let us use their sex dungeon! We need to think of a safe word though Bunny—”

Scarcely comprehending anything he is saying to you, your mind like your pussy had been fully liquified. Both ruthlessly corrupted by Gojo’s long otaku cock and pervy ass fantasies which is no surprise seeing as his family even owns a—

HOL’ THE ENTIRE FUCKUP—A SEX DUNGEON!?

Like a shot of caffeine directly into your veins your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you blink at him dumbfounded, mouth hanging open.  

“Doesn’t that sound fun, Bunny!? My parents are so cool! When I turned 18 my dad even gave me some of his rare and one-of-a-king hentai figures for my collection to get me started and then—”

Tuning him out you’re gagged at the unexpected revelations—and his parents always seemed like such charming n’ decent God fearing people too. Well known to be ruthless in the business world, but upstanding global philanthropists nonetheless.

Well the apple sure as hell didn’t fall too far from the sordid sex fiend tree, that was for damn sure!

Clearly you had no idea what you were getting yourself into or had unleashed by agreeing to be Gojo’s girlfriend. I mean, could no longer deny your growing feelings for him—plus he did just give you multiple back-breaking-terrifyingly-mind-numbing-earth-shattering-orgasms. Not to mention, you would definitely be getting one of every Hermes bag ever made if you wanted one—but at what cost?

Your Dignity? 

Self-respect? 

The right to call yourself a functional and contributing non-degenerate member of society?

Who knows really…

Although perhaps dating a Gojo, the next heir at that, you’d be too rich and highly regarded for people to even care (we’ll except for your friends giving y’all hell but you could eventually make peace with that).

You internally groan as the gentle touches on your bottom morph into lustful gropes and you know your brand new boyfriend would not be granting rest for your totally demolished lil’ pussy anytime soon unless you could distract him a bit.

“—Toru, Toru baby listen, please.”

Interrupting him, you muster the energy to put on the sweetest face you can manage in your exhausted state. 

And of course, Gojo, as always and yet unknowingly, tests the limits of your tolerance.

“Yes, my whittle Bunny, my kinky baby girl—hentai goddess divine?”

Gojo nuzzles your nose in an eskimo kiss as he showers you with ‘loving compliments’. 

Scrunching your face, you grit your teeth through your already weak smile to stop yourself from losing it at him referring to you as ‘hentai goddess divine’—y’all would definitely be having a talk about that as well as appropriate in-public pet names later though.

“Babyyyyy—I’m so sticky and sore, why don’t you be a good boyfriend and get stuff ready for us to take a bath, hm? Maybe find me something else to wear too, hm?”

You did need a bath and you calculated even with his energetic disposition it should take him at least 15-20 minutes to delegate the tasks and get everything together considering how huge his mansion was.

“Oh! Of course, of course! Just wait here! I’ll be right back, my ecchi angel.”

Brow-twitching you sit up to wave at him with another strained smile as he scrambles to put on pants and heads out of his room.

You sigh tiredly and make yourself comfy on his cloud like pillows. 

Thinking he’s finally left and you can savor some much needed time to make peace with what you got yourself into by agreeing to be the girlfriend of an otaku nerd like Gojo Satoru—

—when his head suddenly peaks back in the room with a sheepish look on his face.

“Heh, you know Bunny, was thinking—you really didn’t think I could code crack your cute lil’ cunt now did ya?”

Your eyes are closed but your fists are balling angrily gripping onto the pillows surrounding you.

“Don’t worry Bunny, yours is the only pussy my dick is digidestined for!”

With that, Gojo narrowly avoids the Agumon pillow plushie that is swiftly hurled at his head as he dashes away from the door, his merry yet hysterical laughter echoing through the halls.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⏭ a/n: this fic was wayyyy too long but i've been kinda mean to y'all gojo glazers lately rejoicing in your sorrows cause you are now miserable like the rest of us lmfao, so consider this y'alls bone :P tbh im kinda surprised this is the first full gojo fic i've written lol, it was fun tho cause otaku!gojo is a freak for pussy would drive you insane in all the right and wrong ways. i still have invisible man gojo and ceo/professor gojo planned tho (plus that frat boy satosugu request).

eta: serieslist

reblogs and comments are my life's blood ty ᥫ᭡ .ᐟ

[hislittlesparklejumpropequeen]

Watching you

Hwang In-ho x female!reader.

Summary: In-ho sees you and his brain chemistry changes. A/N: in reader’s pov he’s referred as Young il. Sorry if it’s confusing. Warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, masturbation, stalking, perverted opinions, murder, blood, kissing, mentions of arousal, mentally and physically vulnerable characters, dubious consent, non-con touching, manipulation, sadism, dacryphilia

W/c: 3,5k

It was strange that he kept his eyes on you more than anyone in the games. The moment he saw your shaking figure among the crowd of people in the green suits, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat. You were looking around with eyes that were full of fear, hands wrapped around yourself and holding back tears as others started an argument in the middle. You listened as someone complained about his shoes being so expensive, and someone asking for his phone, an old lady argue with her son and guards answering the players’s questions with patience.

He kept his eyes on you as the first game started. He saw your eyes widen when someone was shot right in front of you, and he watched you as you realise the seriousness of the game you accepted to take part in. Gi-hun was interesting to him, yes. He was searching for them, for him have been for years now. And he was brave enough to come back to the games just to find who was behind them. He respected his determination. Yet there was something about you that he could not name. Something captivating. Something that shifted things in him, made his skin sting in ecstasy as you nearly moved when the doll turned around. You looked around with those innocent eyes and blood of someone flowing down your cheek, he felt his trouser tighten. A small, tingly sensation took over his loins and made him frown in confusion. He had never taken a liking to a someone, let alone a little, fragile thing like you.

When he found the video of you playing ddajki with the recruiter, he felt himself get harder and harder as he watched you spill tears in pain every single time you received a hard slap on your cheek. The camera captured the noises you made as your body was falling backwards with every single slap. The recruiter hit you hard and In-ho wandered if you would sound the same when he pounded you hard on his bed. He took his mask off and palmed himself trough his trouser as he kept replaying the video over and over again. When he was finished spilling his seed into his palm, he wished that was your mouth wrapped around his tip instead.

When the first game finished and your number and picture still shone bright on the floor, you voted for ‘X’ and expected everyone to vote same as you. Yet you were so wrong when the last player 001 and all others voted ‘O’, causing all of you to stay in this hellhole. You felt tears fill your eyes as some people were cheering with victory in front of you. You sat down on one of the beds at the front and hugged your legs with disappointment. As you were thinking what was going to happen next, you felt someone sit next to you.

“I’m sorry, I thought staying was the best option.” Said the man who was looking at you, watching your tears flow down your flushed cheeks. You looked at his number and saw 001 in bright white font. He was the person who voted last and made the decision. You sighed and shook your head.

“It is not only you, sir. Half of us wanted to stay.” You said as you pointed at the people who had the ‘O’ banners on their right side. He did not look at the direction you were pointing at, he kept his eyes on. You were so pretty when you cried. He wandered how beautiful you would look when you were overstimulated with his fingers in you. He felt his cock twicth when you looked at him again. Your lips were plump, and the tip of your nose was red. He wandered how your tears would taste like.

“We have a winner here. I thought we could use this for our advantage.” He explained as he pointed at Gi-hun who looked very troubled not so far away from you. Your eyes were on the last winner when you felt the man beside you stand up and take few steps towards the player 456. Yet he stopped mid way and looked back at you, as if he was waiting for you to follow him. And for some reason you wiped your tears away and followed him like a lost puppy as he walked towards the previous winner of the games who was already accompanied by few guys who kept asking him questions.

And the small group was formed with two of you joining them. You did not know much about others, did not trust them meanwhile player 001 was confident and comfortable talking to them. When he sat down next to Gi-hun, his eyes pointed at the small space next to his feet, so you sat down there. Being close to him brought you a sense of safety. He was the first person who approached you in this mess of a place with kindness. You did not know him, didn’t know his name or why he was here. Yet there was a look in his eyes that made you want to stick beside him.

When everyone went to sleep, In-ho looked at your resting form. You were wrapped in the thin blanket and was curled up into a ball. He looked at your curves that were visible from the tracksuit, his mouth watered. You were so frightened and powerless. You needed someone to protect you in the games. Someone who would look after you, make sure you make it alive. He knew what humans were capable of doing in a place like this. People were going to go mad and hurt one another viciously. Would he be able to just stand and watch if you got hurt?

Your soft whimpers and cries brought him back to reality. When you woke up from your few hours of sleep drenched in sweat and tears flowing down your cheeks, he crawled to you, in the darkness of the hall. He reached out to you, from the metal bars of the beds, and held your shoulder. You squirmed in fear and was about to scream until a large hand covered your mouth.

“It’s me.” He whispered to your ear as his whole body was pressed against your back, other arm wrapped around your shoulders. He was towering over you, as you felt sweat drops make their way to your neck from your temple.

He let go of your mouth, but his touch did not leave your body when he moved to sit next to you. He was close, his breath hitting your face and neck when he looked at you with observing eyes that did not give any feelings away. His touch made your heart beat fast and quicken your breaths, yet you did not want him to stop holding you.

“Bad dream?” He whispered, his voice is low yet deep enough to make your insides shake. You nodded when tears filled your eyes again. The images of dead bodies all over the playground haunted you since the moment you came back from the game as winners. You didn’t want to cry in front of anyone, but you felt like he would not mind seeing you cry.

He nodded along with you, almost like a grown up talking to a little kid and mirror her moves to befriend her. When he saw your bottom lip tremble and eyes full of fear scan the hall of people sleeping, he felt his loins burn in need. The face you made when you were scared and felt alone was enough to make him cum in his underwear without any touch.

Without hesitation he brought your body closer to his own and his arms embraced your shaking form with mercy. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and wrapped your smaller arms around his waist. He was warm. Very warm that you felt your fingertips burn over his body. When you breathed in and out in the crook of his neck, all In-ho wanted to do was throw your body back into the bed, rip those clothes off of you and ravage you in front of dozens of people without any care. The though of fucking you, turning you into mass in front of them, giving them a show as he claimed you, sent shivers down his spine.

“I’m so scared,” you whispered, your crying voice reaching his ear as he tried to hold back a smile at your situation. You were so helpless that you were crying in the arms of the man who was the reason why you were still here. He was a stranger, who had the potential to do anything. Yet here you were, quivering against his chest and making his member throb in need.

“I’m here.” He said. And you had no chance but trusting him.

———————

The next game you were automatically given the Gong-gi game as the only female in the group. Yet your hands were shaking when it was your turns to play after player 390 completed his part successfully. When you missed two times, you were so sure you were going to die and worse, be the reason for everyone’s death in your group.

He watched you panick, drop the pebbles and fail to catch them midair. Everyone around you was getting inpatient and scared naturally. Even tho he loved the way you were struggling and feeding into his twisted desire, he could not let you die. He held your waist and stopped the trembling of your body. You looked at him under your lashes that were wet with your tears and went back to work once he gave you a reassuring smile. With that you managed to catch all the pebbles in your palm and passed the round.

It was then, you felt something was off, when it was his turn to play his own game. The top kept slipping from his hands or landed wrong on the floor that was covered in the blood of eliminated players. You wanted to step back yet could not because of the ties when he started to scream in anger and slap himself. There was a crazy, off-putting look in his eyes. It was less uncomfortable when he was looking at you, yet it was still there. His eyes made your skin crawl and stomach twist in sickness. You did feel safe around him. But not like you would feel safe with a family member, a friend, or a lover. It felt like he was a wolf who claimed a lamb, kept her on his chest and waited for right moment to eat her.

When your group managed to survive and go back to the hall, he kept to you close. His hand was on your back, leading you to your bed. When it was mealtime, he gave half of his food to you, telling you to not to worry about him when you tried to reject him. He watched you until you finished all your food. After all of you exchanged names, he watched you talk to player 388 about his time in marine and watch you laugh when he was talking excitedly, telling everyone how prideful he was about his military service. He watched your tears dry up as you listened to the conversation that was flowing in the group. Your smile made his stomach twist and his jaw clench.

Your hopes once again were shattered when people voted for “O” more than “X” and decided to continue playing the games. Young-il wiped your tears away and convinced you to get some sleep for the night. You could only relax and fall asleep when he sat next to you on your bed and caressed your head as he decided to stay awake. He looked extraordinarily strong to you. He did not need to sleep, gave his food to others, calm people down when everyone was scared, raged and pass the games like it was nothing. Most importantly, he held you close no matter what. Did not mind you cry and fail and fall. Maybe it was a sense of guilt he felt, for making you stay in the first round of voting, you thought.

——————

Next morning he held your hand when everyone was taken to the new game. It was mingle. Your group had decided to stay together. You were grateful that they had take you in and did not leave you alone. You all took your place on the platform and started to spin as the song was playing. You felt his hand get tighter around yours, reminding you that he was here with you.

10

You ran as fast as you can and took deep breaths when all 10 of you finally managed to get into a room. The sound of lock made you jump slightly. You saw Young il’s eyes on Gi-hun as he pulled you under his arm. The images of him looking at Gi-hun since the moment you met him lingered on your mind until the woman who claimed to be a shaman started to speak loudly in the middle of the room. As you waited for gunshots to stop and doors to open, you could not help but wonder the reason behind Young il’s weird behaviour about Gi-hun. He seemed to get along with him. Seemed to respect his ideas and experiences about this place. They seemed to understand one another, somehow. Yet that unexplainable look in 001 eyes was making you shift uncomfortably in your place.

Until last round, you had no chance but sticking beside Young il. As you entered rooms and people kept dying outside, you became more paranoid. And when it came to the last round, Jeong-bae asked how many people it was going to be this time. Without hesitation Young-il answered.

“2.” And it was it. When the song stopped and the platform stopped spinning, Young il held your hand tighter than before, and started to run to closest room. As you were trying to catch up with his pace, someone bumped into you, causing you to lose your balance and stumble midway. Young il turned around immediately and wrapped his arms around your waist. He lifted you like a piece of feather and made his way to the yellow door that was already opened by a guy. Young il pushed you into the room and threw the other guy away from the door. When you scanned the room, your eyes were met with pair of foreign eyes.

“Out.” Young il said sharply to the other man in the room.

“We were here first.” The man said, his voice cracking as he was shaking in fear. Person behind the door tried to open it. You pushed your back against the door and held it with all of your strength. There was not much time left, and you were afraid that all of you were going die in this room.

Young il grabbed the man and locked his arms around his head. As they scooped to the floor, his arms got tighter around the player 343’s neck. You were still holding the door and preventing the other player to get in. For a second Young il’s intense gaze met with yours and you couldn’t look away.

He looked into your eyes, showing no emotion or weakness as the man he was choking started to turn purple. Your breath got stuck in your throat, your knees were shaking, and your palms were getting sweaty with the scene taking place in front of you. As there were few seconds left for the countdown, Young il twisted the man’s neck. The sound of bone cracking filled the room along with the sound of door locking behind you. He kept his eyes on you, as he tossed the dead body of the side.

The lifeless body of player 343 laid on the ground and the gunshots filled your ear. The screams of people scratched your brain, and you finally managed to close your eyes. He had killed someone in front of you, broke his neck with one swift motion and he had no emotion on his face as he did it. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought it was going to fail at some point. Then the images of him came to your mind. When he knocked down player 124 and 230 as he looked down at them with those emotionless eyes, when he carelessly slapped himself in the second game, when he looked at Gi-hun as if he wanted to strangle him when he thought no one was looking, when he pushed everyone out of his way to get both of you to safety during the mingle game and now when he killed someone.

“Open your eyes.” He breathed out, his breath hitting your face. Suddenly you felt his warmth surrounding you and him towering over your head. You slowly opened your eyes and there he was. Looking down at you, his eyebrows lifted up and with a mocking look in his eyes. His face was close to yours. Yet it did not feel comforting and safe like it did a night ago, when he was comforting you after a nightmare.

“What did you do?” Your voice was shaky and sounded terrified as you tried to look at the dead body that was in the corner of the room. He did not let you look away with his fingers finding your chin and holding it tight. He held you with those hands that just took the life of someone. You felt chills going down your spine.

“I made sure that we survived.” He whispered without breaking eye contact with you. You could hear soldiers cleaning up the mess outside of the rooms.

“You killed him.” You tried to shake his touch away, yet he didn’t let you. Instead, he got closer, until you were trapped between him and the door. His hot breath made your skin tingle, and his touch made you wanna cry.

“Yes.” He said, and his lips touched your cheek that was wetted by your tears. His lips planted a soft kiss onto your skin. The kiss made you feel dizzy and your knees weak.

“For you.” He continued. His words made you freeze in your spot. His lips traced over your skin like a ghost and reached the corner of your lips. “Only for you” He kissed the side of your mouth, softly, gently, with mercy. You wanted to rip his hands off of you, and run away. The floor beneath your feet was slippery with the blood of eliminated players. If you slipped and fell, would he let you go?

“All for you.” His lips found your chin, then your nose, then your other cheek. He did not rush or hold you harsh enough to hurt. Yet knowing that he had just killed someone with those hands made you wanna throw up.

Your tears dropped to his lips, and he licked his lips as if he was dying over thirst. And when he made eye contact with you again, it was the first time you saw a clear human emotion in his eyes. An emotion he did not try to hide or was afraid to show; yearning. You did not know if it was for you or winning. In both cases, it terrified you to your very being.

“Stop!” You said as sobs filled your mouth and he pressed his forehead against yours hard. You felt him shake his head, his arms wrapping around your fragile, little body compared to his strong form.

“I will give you everything you want, you need.” He said and pressed his lips against yours. Without waiting, his tongue made his way into your mouth, forcing your lips to open up for him. You felt the dizzy feeling take over your head. Your ears were ringing, your mind was foggy as he kissed you harsh, deep. There was no power left in your body, so you just let yourself to his arms.

His teeth crushed against yours and he was biting every corner of your lips until he drew blood. The irony taste filled your senses, made you jump. You did not know if it was you bleeding or him. But there was blood everywhere. Covering your tongue, your lips and staining your chin as your shared spit escaped from the corner of your lips. You felt your body burn all over. Your back was arching like a cat to get any closer to him, and there was a soreness between your legs that made your clit throb. You felt shame fill you and guilt making you wanna cry out. Instead, you kept kissing him, devouring him, eating him as much as you could.

You whined and pushed your head towards him when he parted your kiss with the sound of lock. The door was opened. The third game was finished. There was still a dead man in the room. Your mouth was covered in blood, making you look like you just feasted on someone. And his eyes were on you, watching you.

[phantomsies]

𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙 • 𝖆.𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙

your biggest fan soon becomes your biggest obsession….

black onlyfans creator!reader (fem descriptions), nerdy!armin, public sex/public masturbation, squirting, mentions of toys, exhibitionism, throatfucking, cumshot

📝: I wanted to go a completely different direction with this but a) it’s no longer kinktober and it would’ve much better suited that and b) nerd!armin just scratches an itch in my brain I can’t quite put my finger on. So enjoy! 🫶🏾 (also, I AM SO SORRY THIS SHIT IS SO LONG 😭😭 I don’t intend on headcanons being this length but I can’t shut the fuck up.)

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

nerd!armin had been a dutiful subscriber of (y/n) (l/n)’s or as the world knew you, (performer name) for quite some time. He’d faithfully watched your content, never missing an upload to your sites and shamelessly scrolling your Twitter.

nerd!armin preferred your videos over others because they were so unique. Always willing to push the envelope by shooting in unconventional spaces; your car, public bathrooms and even dressing rooms..a polar opposite to his shy, bashful nature. In a way, he was jealous but also aroused..

from your long acrylics, fluffy lashes, colorful hair that changed from video to video and of course, the beautiful, dark brown complexion that radiated underneath the sun or ring lights, nerd!armin was obsessed.

nerd!armin would lie in bed after a long study session, classes or even a hard day at work..mindlessly stroking his cock in one hand as he held his phone in the other, eyes glued to the screen whilst you performed those lewd acts.

shoving those dildos in and out of your tight cunt, those pretty pink walls and plump brown lips sucking on that silicone toy..stretching yourself open all for his pleasure. A jeweled butt plug shoved into your ass and cream oozing down onto that gorgeous skin and the leather of your seats as you worked yourself into countless orgasms..mewling and begging for the would be viewer to keep fucking you..

“Fuck, I’m about to come, daddy..you’re gonna make me squirt.” Crying out as nerd!armin jerked himself even faster..subconsciously responding back without a single other person being in the room. ”Squirt for me, baby. Come..” Whimpering before exploding with a load of his own..

despite only being an intern, nerd!armin was well off from his freelancing tech work and although it didn’t leave him much room for socializing, he would tip you amicably on all the new content, as well as leave kind, respectful, encouraging words. It wasn’t something you saw often in this field.

it also didn’t take nerd!armin long to realize that you never featured a partner in any of your content like some girls eventually did. Only the various assortment of toys gifted to you by supporters. Which only further fed his delusions when you made a mess and glared into the camera, batting those doe brown eyes before saying “..look at what you made me do..that big dick feels so good..”

nerd!armin, who had only been with one woman sexually in his entire life and didn’t date often, could only dream of being with a girl like you.

so it came as no surprise when you announced that you would be opening a contest to film with one of your subscribers for the first time, nerd!armin leaped at the chance! The thought of getting to fuck the woman he’d hopelessly fawned over excited him.

nerd!armin nearly fainted when he got a DM on OnlyFans one day to see that he had won, asking when he’d like to arrange the meetup.

nerd!armin was understandably nervous on the day you two came face to face..but felt as ease when you continuously reassured him and even made sure that both of you had been tested, as well as protection.

“You’re so cute..it’s nice to finally meet you. Thank you for supporting me..” your gentle voice sent a shockwave of butterflies soaring through nerd!armin’s stomach as you wrapped him in a tight hug…and of course, a tightening in his pants upon laying eyes on his favorite creator. But that was merely the beginning.

nerd!armin found himself blushing when you slowly traced circles all over his skin, examining the single tattoo on his forearm and complimenting the smell of his cologne as the two of you sat alone in the bedroom of the designated filming space of your spacious home. Impressed by the bookshelves full of old literature he passed on the way in.

“Mmmm..you’re nervous, aren’t you?” “…I guess you could say that.” “Well don’t be, I’m going to make sure we have a good time, I promise..”

nerd!armin had no idea just how true you were to your word when less than ten minutes after the camera came on, you were on your knees, tongue extended and a wide smile on your face as he towered over you.

nerd!armin could hardly contain himself when eventually, those glossy brims were now encompassed around his cock. Slurping noises emanating around the room, along with his adorable cries���sloppy drool and gag spit spilling from that wet mouth and onto the pulsating head, shaft and those swollen balls. Disregarding the fact that your pretty face had become a disheveled mess.

“Oh my God…that feels so good, beautiful. Your mouth feels fucking amazing..” “You wanna come for me, baby?” “..yes! Drain me, please..” pathetically pleading whilst relentlessly fucking your throat.

nerd!armin unabashedly spent days, practicing his stroke on a translucent flesh light, feeding it deep thrusts and stuffing it with an ungodly amount of cum, examining your videos like study material..in hopes of gaining some stamina against you.

but nothing could prepare nerd!armin for the sheer sensation that being inside of you brought upon him.. however, he wasn’t the only one caught off guard..especially when he’d gently tug your head down and force you to watch as he glided into that narrow hole.. a move he’d learn from his tapes.

“It’s so big..damn..” “I told you..” giggling to yourselves as your gazes met and he’d begin to move.

nerd!armin almost felt compelled to believe that you were faking your moans like other pornstars so often did…but that misconception was cleared up when your eyes began to trail back, legs began to tremble and a slight bulge formed at the very bottom of your stomach.

“Yes, you stretching the fuck out of this pussy, baby..right there!..” “Am-am I doing a good job?” “You fucking me so good, please don’t stop.”

nerd!armin nearly lost all composure when you all but pushed him away, only to shower him in a stream of your juices. Only increasing as he tapped that swollen tip against your quivering folds.

nerd!armin didn’t last more than five minutes after that powerful climax and began dry heaving as his own neared. Ushering you back to your knees to paint those pretty features and tits with his load.

nerd!armin was convinced that once the cameras shut off, you’d put him out for nutting too quickly. Surely a woman of your caliber would never deal with that again. But yet again, he was proven wrong when you smiled up at him, flicking your tongue across your lips before posing a question. “So..where should we should film next time? We gotta do this more often..”

nerd!armin had found himself the newest and sole object of (creator’s name) affection!