#hello from the floating house

[djpisskink]

in most cases of schizo spectrum disorders, the age of onset tends to occur during young to later adulthood, on average. knowing that doesn't make looking back on my younger self any less mind boggling. i had so much drive, i was such an emotional child who would cry for hours, didn't matter if it was over a sad story or something bad that happened to me, or even something happy. i wanted to be liked so badly, the sting of rejection from my peers felt like the world was crashing around me. i'd binge watch anime, make fan art, practice drawing, pump out several fanfiction chapters a week, play games and make friends online, without mentioning the hours spent on roleplaying sites.

that knowledge also opens my eyes to the small warning signs. being bullied and rejected by people who were supposed to be my support systems ever since i was a small child made me grow up into a cynical angry jerk with a faux unbothered facade. i learned that if i pushed my reactions and feelings down, people would quickly leave me alone. if i hid my "real self" and separated it from the world, becoming a spectator instead of a performer in it, people wouldn't have power over it anymore. in short, people would always prove themselves to be utterly unreliable in one way or another.

over the years, i learned to leave first. to critically analyze myself, and others, and the situations at hand, to the point where nowdays it's extremely difficult for me to truly immerse myself in a situation. i grew a resentment towards the idea of being caged, of being at the mercy of other people and their feelings and ideas. i had been deprived of true freedom for so long that once i tasted a drop of it, i decided then and there that i never wanted to go back.

nowdays it's difficult for me to do much of anything, or at least care enough to do so. if i wasn't audhd i doubt there would be much pushing me to do the scarce things i already indulge in. the fact that i seem secure in myself and who i am, mixed with my inability to judge others with its roots in indifference and a mind limited by logic, makes me be perceived as someone reliable. but i'm really not. i've hurt people because of the way that i am, and it's not something i want to do. in some cases it's unavoidable though.

at the end of the day, i like being schizoid. learning to navigate the world and other people with this brain is both the easiest and most laborious thing i've ever done. i don't think i'll ever be able to truly show all parts of myself to others, but then again i don't think most people can.

i'd just like to be content with what i have. i want to genuinely like being here, every day. that's what i want. and sometimes that sounds impossible, but i believe that child still lives in me, somewhere. and if it could do at least some of it, even while carrying all that hurt, then i think i can, too.

[gay-dorito-dust]

OMG !! idk if you've seen baby bill cipher but he's such a little cutie — you should totally do a oneshot where he's accidentally transformed into his prime years and the reader is forced to take care of him , not realizing that baby bill imprinted on them !! kinda like ducklings ^_^♡

(it can be gender neutral , female , male, whatever you're comfortable with <3)

You didn’t know what to expect when you came home after work, especially not with Bill. He could’ve flooded your bathtub with rat sized spiders, or made your fridge grow legs just to tell you that you need to catch it, or even decide to decorate your house with portraits of morbidly disturbing subjects that get worse the longer you look at them.

However what you defiantly didn’t expect to see was a little cute yellow blob with comedically large light blue shoes sat on your couch, his singular eye staring at you.

‘Bill?’ You asked as you walked closer to the little guy, still thinking this was some prank as your eyes scan the rest of the room, expecting him to have popped out by now and dose you in fake blood or something but nothing of the sort happened.

The little yellow blob only made grabby hands at you and that was all it took for you to know that this little cutie pie was Indeed the little shit you knew as Bill, but how did he revert to being a baby? You didn’t know but your heart melted when baby bill made a disgruntled noise when you didn’t immediately pick him up and automatically gave in as you held him close to your chest.

Unaware that baby bill had imprinted on you the moment you walked into the room, knowing that you were a trustworthy person to protect and keep him safe from all harm.

‘Hello little guy.’ You cooed as you smiled down at baby bill who only looked back at you with his big eye full of wonder and awe, it made you wonder about how this little cutie became a demonic creature that thrived off of human tragedy and torture because whatever it was that did it didn’t sound too particularly pleasant.

Baby bill only babbled back at you, his tiny hand grasping your finger tightly which only melted your heart even further. ‘Well aren’t you the cutest triangle I’ve ever seen, oh yes you are.’ You praised as you sat down on the couch, tickling him slightly, which caused him to giggle and you couldn’t help but hold this little sweetheart close to your chest.

Taking care a little baby triangle wasn’t easy as you couldn’t go to work without the little guy crying and reaching for you with his tiny hands in desperation, it broke your heart that you had to call in sick for the next couple of days as you tried to figure out what baby triangles liked to eat if they even eat at all.

Soon enough you found out that he didn’t like crust on his sandwiches after the first couple of times when he didn’t touch them, and after that you would always make sure that his sandwiches were crustless as to prevent your house being trashed during his little tantrums.

He still liked silly straws and wouldn’t drink anything at all unless it was through a silly straw, this was already well known knowledge as there was countless times where Bill would casually cause chaos and be found sat on some surface, sipping a drink through a silly straw as though he was watching a movie or a sitcom.

You even bought little outfits for him during this time too! Sure they were made for human babies but you didn’t care as Bill looked absolutely adorable in the unicorn onesie that you had albums dedicated to him and the outfits you bough him.

You had to wash him in the bathroom sink because you feared that the bathtub would be a bit too big for little bill and that was about as successful as giving a dog a bath, you had to case the floating baby triangle throughout the house before finally managing to catch him and drag him to the bathroom.

Baby bill clung onto you no matter where you went, as though he was scared to be apart from you and would even sneak himself into your hoodies, jackets, wherever he could fit himself in so that when you went to the shop, he’d poke his head out to smile at you.

You wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t when he was so cute and so you gently reminded him that he couldn’t always sneak into your pockets and not expect you to experience parental adrenaline when you couldn’t find him nearby.

He pouted and looked saddened by this but you made it up to him by cuddling him and blowing raspberries on him, making him giggle.

You wake up to him sleeping on your face most of the time since he couldn’t sleep anywhere else unless he was near you, but you feared that you’d squish him by accident so you tried letting him sleep on your pillow, only for him to be found fast asleep against your face or your neck by the morning.

It was sweet while it lasted but it was only a matter of time before he reverted back to his usual sharp angles and chaotic self, so you valued all the time you had with baby bill to heart and making sure he had nothing but unconditional love and affection from someone who cared.

[luvyeni]

DEMURE GIRL ,, 이희승

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ acquaintances!heeseung x shy!reader wc. 4k

genre. smut

🦢◞  includes ... first kiss, oral sex ( fem. receiving ), unprotected sex

「 authors note 𖹭 」 i had to use this word at least once im sorry.

❪ masterlist! ❫

you liked to live a simple life; you liked routine; going to class, then back to your dorm to study or catch up on reading your favorite books; this was your everyday life , except when you were running around a frat party trying to make sure your roommate doesn't take her shirt off— for the third time that semester.

“i told you yn i’m not drunk , im completely sober.” her words slurring, and inability to walk straight told another story. “okay , i believe you, just drink this.” you handed her some water, she took a sip, some of the water dripping down her chin, you wiped it. “you're so kind yn , i love you so much.” she drunkenly held you. “oh there's jake! hey jake!” she yelled over the music. “let's go yn there's jake.”

she dragged you over to the group of boys you often found yourself hanging with because of your friend's obsession with one of the frat members, jake sim, you sat her down on the couch next to the equally drunk boy. “she dragged you out to another party?” sunghoon asked, you nodded. “please she loves these parties, it's the only fun she has in her life.” your friend slurred. “well besides those books she reads.”

“what books?” you froze up hearing the voice; the voice that made your little heart jump. “heeseung man you made it.” jake got up, giving the boy a handshake. “yeah decided to stop by.” he sat down , right down next to you. “glad i did too.”

the sad thing about your crush on heeseung; is that everyone knew about it, it wasn't a secret , even heeseung knew it — it's just that you could stay in the same vicinity of the man before you started breaking out in a cold sweat , so you never gave him the time. “hey yn.” the boy smiled next to you. “h-hi."

when heeseung found out about your crush on him; he didn't think anything about it, he was popular around campus , he was used to having pretty girls having crushes on him; but your crush on him — he never had someone so shy and modest and closed off to themselves have feelings for him, so he started to watch you, the way you would sneak off by yourself; he followed you once; not in a creepy way, he followed you into the university library, you were studying or reading a book, he couldn't remember, he was too busy watching you.

the way you'd absentmindedly pick at your skirt, or you'd smile at something in the book— before he could realize, he'd been sitting down for 30 minutes watching you , and you were getting up walking out the building, he tried to follow behind you , just so he can say hi , but you were already gone.

he would've given up chasing you; but he soon found himself crushing on you, even though you only gave him a shy hello or a meek goodbye in passing; but to heeseung, that was all he needed from you in order to be utterly obsessed with you— that's the reason why he was even here, he heard you were here with your friend, and he just had to be here. “her books are all she cares about, books and her school work.” your friend slurred. “it's been like that our whole lives, you know she never even had her first kiss.”

your eyes widened, you'd strangle your best friend if she wasn't drunk and there weren't any witnesses. “you've never had your first kiss?” the question floated around the air, your ears heated up in embarrassment. “well…”

“i can help you with that.” heeseung spoke up, everyone turned to him. “unless you're waiting?” your friend; whom you definitely were gonna strangle with a pillow once she was sober in the morning spoke up. “no she isn't , she just doesn't leave the house enough to realize how many guys are fighting to even be in her presence.” that made heeseung jealous, he didn't even want to think about another man touching you. “yn?”

you shrugged, maybe this was just a really good dream and you'd wake up with a red face. “su-sure.” heeseung stood up. “where are you going?” jay asked. “well i'm not about to kiss her in front of you guys, come on yn.” he held his hand out for you to take , a waiting smile.

once you grabbed his hand, he helped you up, guiding you away from the group. “hey , don't worry i won't do anything you don't want me to do.” he said as he guided you up the steps. “besides it's just a kiss right?” he said, holding the door open to a room. “i-i guess.”

you sat down on the bed; he closed the door, the sounds from the party muffled, but you could hear your heartbeat as he got closer to you, sitting down next to you. “now before i kiss you, i want you to tell me this is what you want.” he said. “i won't pressure you into doing something just to please your friend.” he held the side of your face , making you look at him. “yn?”

“i-i do.” you said, “you can kiss me.” he smiled. “that's the most you've ever said to me.” he said, holding the side of your face. “im not gonna bite , don't worry okay?” he leaned in, his lips dangerously close to yours, almost touching. “you're safe with me.” he closed the gap between you; his pillowy lips on yours , it felt like fireworks were going off inside your stomach, you closed your eyes, he softly caressed your cheek— he was fighting every demon inside to not stick his tongue into your mouth.

unfortunately you both needed oxygen; so he slowly pulled away, he chuckled as your lips chased after his. “hey, hey calm down.” his kissed the tip of your nose. “you want another?” he whispered, you nodded. “you can speak can't you darling?” his other hand come to your knees cap, rubbing gently. “all i need you to say is yes.” he waited patiently until you softly muttered a yes, and his lips were back on yours.

your hands shaking, picking at your skirt; he grabbed your wrist , pulling away. “you can touch me it's alright.” he guided your hand to his face, his skin soft. “good girl.” he said, smirking. “your lips are all swollen now, you liked that?” you nodded, your cheeks hot. “you're so cute, i can see in your eyes you want more.” he said. “but you don't even know what you want do you?”

“i-i don't.” he tilted his head to the side. “you want my help?” you wanted something from the boy, but losing your virginity wasn't something on the top of your list so you never thought about it; what if that was something that made him uncomfortable. “i see the gears turning in your head, if i didn't want this, i would've gotten up after kissing you the first time.” his hands were now easing up your skirt. “i can make you feel good.” he whispered, kissing your ear, blowing on it. “just give me the okay.”

he was holding back for you; he didn't want to scare you, but he couldn't deny the heat burning in his stomach, or the tightening below his belt buckle. “angel i don't mean to rush you, but fuck you're killing me with this silence.” he dry laughed. “i kinda need an answer.”

“o-okay.” he got off the bed, ridding himself of his shirt, unbuckling his pants. “can you take your shirt off for me?” his eyes lowered as you slowly lifted your shirt up; his cock twitching in his pants , it felt like his was a dream he had once or twice. “good girl.”

he gently laid you back on the bed, sunghoon was gonna kill him, but in the end he didn't care, he wasn't waiting any longer to have you. “i got you.” he was in between your legs, looking down at you all laid out for him, you looked like an angel , skirt above your waist — he almost felt bad for the things he was about to do to you. “let me do all the work.”

his hands came to your shoulders, lowering your bra straps, his hand was under you, undoing the back of your bra, sliding it off your body, revealing your perfect tits. “fuck, i dreamt of this for a long time baby.” both his hands were up your skirt, pulling down your panties. “gonna keep these.” he smirked, you whined. “keep making those pretty noises.”

kissing both of your breasts, making his way down your stomach, holding your legs wide open for him. “pretty little pussy.” he kissed in between your thighs. “bet you she tastes real good.” then you felt the sensation of his tongue on your heat. “o-oh.” you gasped. “you like that?” he licked another stripe , your hand came up to his hair, you balled your fist up. “pull it , i like that baby.”

he didn't say anything else before diving straight in, your cunt dripping on his tongue, like candy , so sweet he wanted nothing more than to drown in you. “h-heeseung.” you moaned out , he smirked against your heat , exactly what he wanted to hear , he couldn't help but grind against the bed, his tongue prodding against your hole , he groaned at the feeling of you tugging at his hair as he pushed his muscle inside you.

heeseung knew the inside and out of a girl, he could tell you were about to cum , you tore your eyes from the ceiling , below making eye contact with heeseung as he brought his lips to your clit , sucking on it — before you could even announce anything , you felt the knot in your stomach snap , you let out a moan that you only heard on videos you've watched a couple of times , your legs shaking as heeseung buried his head deeper inside you, cleaning up everything that came out of you , you were so sensitive you had to pull his head away. “it hurts.”

“sorry baby, you just taste too good.” he kissed the inside of your thighs. “i got a little caught up.” his normally put together hair was all messy; his lips were red and he was heavily breathing. “did you like it?” you nodded. “i-i did.”

he was addicted, he needed more from you, he needed to feel more of you. “you wanna feel even better baby?” you nodded. “you've been so vocal this entire time love , you know what i need.” you whimpered. “pl-please , i want you inside me.” he closed his eyes to calm himself; you sounded so desperate. “you want me inside this tiny pussy?”

he quickly rid himself of his jeans, he was just as desperate as you; he felt like a virgin himself , ready to feel you; he's thought about it since the day he saw you in the library. “he-heeseung.” your soft voice , it did everything to him , he could get off to that alone. “yes baby?” you whimpered hearing him calling you that. “will it hurt?”

“for a little bit.” he was in between your legs again, pushing his waistband down , freeing his cock; it was intimidatingly big, red and leaking with pre-cum, bobbing against his abs. “but not for long baby.” you could feel his tip against your hole. “don't worry , i won't hurt you okay?” you felt his tip entering , you hissed at the burning sensation as he filled you. “fuck , fuck baby you're so tight.”

he was losing his mind with how slow he was going; ready to just plunge his cock inside you. “he-heseung.” he kissed your lips. “shh shh , -fuck- baby it's okay, it's okay it's almost over.” he slowly worked himself , until he was fully inside you. “you-you're so big.” he smirked. “yeah baby i know.”

“m'gonna pull out now okay?” you nodded, he slowly pulled out of you , his tip still stuffed inside you. “you ready?” you nodded, he pushed himself back inside you much faster than before. “fuck.” he cursed , moving his hips; your fingers digging into his forearm as he thrusted into you. “f-faster.”

“you -fuck- you sure?” you moaned out a plea, that's all he needed before he was speeding up , sweat beading down his forehead; your cunt squeezing him like a vice, he was in heaven. “you feel so good baby , this pussy is perfect.” he groaned. “only i can touch it , isn't that right baby.” his thumb came to your clit , rubbing harsh circles. “only man to touch you like this , see your pretty face all fucked up.”

he was losing himself fully , his pace picking up, thrust deeper , hitting your cervix. “tell me baby, tell me this pussy is all mine , no man can ever touch you.” you were a moaning mess , eyes closed. “baby look at me.” he said. “look at me baby.” he repeated , his cock slowly dragging inside of you.

you force your eyes open; he was smirking. “good girl, keep looking at me.” he gave your lips another kiss. “tell me who this pussy belongs to.” you whimpered. “yo-you.” he cursed. “exactly baby.” you could feel yourself about to cum. “you gonna cum?” you nodded. “good girl , cum all over my cock.” you moaned out your legs wrapping around his waist. “fuck baby , if you don't unwrap your legs , im gonna cum inside you.”

you moaned out. “you want that baby , want me to cum inside you?” he was about to blow his load. “fuck baby i need a answer , or you need to unwrap your legs.” he cursed holding himself back from cumming. “pl-please cum inside me.”

his eyes rolled to the back of his head, as he came, you can feel him empty inside of you. “shit, baby.” he twitched. “you okay?” you were a little sore , but you'll be fine. “sunghoon is gonna kill me.” you chuckled breathlessly. “i-i'm sorry.” he shook his head. “no don't worry about it baby, let's just worry about getting you home okay , getting you cleaned up , i'll make sure your friend gets back to your dorm safely after okay?” you nodded , he help you get dressed. “why are you being so nice to me? did you get what you want?”

“baby , if you took one look up from those books you're always smiling at , you would've noticed me looking at you.” he said. “i told you i wouldn't have brought you up here if i didn't want to.” you smiled shyly , he caressed your cheek. “okay.” you whispered , he held his hands out. “come.”

“lets get you home baby , i’ll stay with you.”

©LUVYENI

[munsonsmixtapes]

Slugger

Evan "Buck" Buckley x shy!probie!fem!reader

summary: you're the newest member of the 118 and Buck will stop at nothing to tease you as form of flirting and you believe that he doesn't like you, but Eddie is going to do whatever he can to set the two of you up.

word count: 4k

cw: miscommunication, hurt/comfort, jealousy, reader gets hit on by a creep and it’s a little unsettling

part two part three part four part five

As soon as you stepped foot into the fire house, you were convinced that you were home. You couldn't explain it, but it was a lot more cozy than you would have thought. When you looked up and saw the rest of the crew eating a meal together like a family, you knew you were in the right place. You hadn't heard of departments doing that and knowing that they were like family to each other was refreshing.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder and slowly made your way up the steps on the hunt for Captain Nash who you knew you needed to report to. And you were nervous to say the least. You always had a bit of anxiety lingering, but especially when it came to a new situation with a new place and people. This was all three and you were honestly just applauding yourself for even getting at far as you did.

As soon as you got to the top step, every single head turned to look at you. You felt your anxiety reach its peak as you realized that you were the center of attention and suddenly felt the urge to throw up. You noticed that everyone had even stopped eating in favor of getting a look at you and it took everything in you to not run down the steps and never come back.

"Hello," the man at the head of the table greeted as he waved you over. "And who might you be?" Your name suddenly floated out of your brain as the man waited for you to answer.

You told him your name once you finally remembered it and the man smiled, waving you over to the table.

"You're just in time for dinner. Take a seat." There was a seat at the end and you reluctantly set your bag in the floor before taking a seat.

"Welcome to the 118," the man next to you spoke. You turned to him and couldn't help but notice how pretty his brown eyes were.

"Thank you," you nodded as the man sitting across from you handed you a bowl that was full of spaghetti. You took it from him and couldn't help but noticed that he was eyeing you suspiciously. Maybe he was thinking that you were a fraud just like you were. He was definitely onto you.

"You're welcome. I'm Eddie," the man put his hand out for you to shake with a bright smile and you completely abandoned the bowl that was being held out to you. You shook Eddie's hand and you couldn't help but notice that it was soft but rough.

"Y/n," you replied softly even though he definitely already knew that since you had just said it. Eddie took the bowl from Buck and served you some of the pasta and the salad along with some garlic bread.

"So, it looks like we've got a new probie," the man across from you spoke. "We haven't had one of those since Ravi."

"Probie?" You had never heard that term before and by the way everyone was looking at you, you assumed that you should have known what it meant.

"Probational firefighter," Eddie replied, leaning closer to you before leaning back up before continuing to eat his meal. You just nodded and began to eat, the man across from you eyeing you for longer than you would have liked.

Buck gave you small smile then went back to his spaghetti and everyone engaged in conversation while you sat there silently, just content to be there.

Just as you were getting comfortable, the siren went off and everyone but you got up from their chairs, making a dash for the engine.

“You coming, probie?” Buck asked as he stopped at the top of the stairs. You got up and followed him, rushing to the engine where the only available spot was in between him and Eddie.

Eddie handed you a headset and you put it on, turning to him just in time to see his warm smile and you mimicked it, feeling grateful to have someone who was nice to you. You could feel Buck nudge you and you turned to your left to see what he wanted.

“I’m Buck, by the way,” he smiled and you thought he was cute, especially his little birth mark right by his eye. “And that’s Hen,” he pointed to the Black woman across from him. “And Chimney.” The Asian man next to Hen gave you a wave and Buck didn’t miss the confused look on your face. “Don’t ask,” he laughed. “And then that’s Ravi,” he pointed to the Indian next to the left of Chimney.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” Hen smiled. “I’m looking forward to having another woman in the department if it works out.” You wouldn’t have expected everyone to be so nice on a job like fire fighting and it warmed your heart that they were so welcoming.

“Same to you,” you replied and you began to pick at the skin around your finger nails, trying your hardest to not hum to yourself, something you often did when you were nervous or anxious.

The ride to the call seemed much shorter than it was as you listened to everyone exchange conversation. People usually called you out for being quiet, but you didn’t ever feel the need to speak unless you were spoken to or had something of value to say.

And the 118 seemed to respect that. No one commented on it and you found that odd. At least one person usually had something to say, but they all just talked amongst themselves and would occasionally involve you so you wouldn’t feel left out.

They were a family and that much was obvious, but even on your first day, they were so inclusive, trying their hardest to make you feel like one of them.

Once the engine pulled up to the scene, all of you got out and hurried to the fire that was taking over the house in front of you. You watched Buck, Eddie, and Ravi race inside while Hen and Chimney checked on everyone who was already out of the house. The fire was huge, consuming the house with it's bright orange hue and you desperately wished you could have followed the others into the house.

Your job was to get the others supplies when requested and to assist where help was needed. You really wished that you could have been in the action like everyone else, but you knew that it was just the way it was when you first started out on the job. You were still new and needed to prove yourself before you could really showcase how good you really were.

Ravi came running out with a cat in his arms that somehow seemed unharmed and passed it off to the little girl who had been crying for it. You hoped to be able to do that soon. That was the whole reason why you had even wanted to become a firefighter; to help people. But for the time being, you were going to go above and beyond by doing anything that was asked of you. That was all you really could do until your probation was up.

"Probie, hose!" Buck called out as he rushed out of the house and you quickly hurried to the engine and grabbed the hose before racing over to him. He had everyone clear back then turned on the hose, moving it back and forth to diffuse the fire.

The fire slowly died down and Buck handed the hose back to you which you put away and once everyone was taken care of, you all piled into the engine, you finding yourself between Buck and Eddie again.

Eddie clapped you on the shoulder with a smile that matched everyone else's. They applauded you for you first call and you were beginning to think that maybe you were going to really like it there.

"You actually did a good job, probie," Buck told you and you weren’t sure if that was an insult or an compliment. The word "actually" led you to believe to that he didn't think you were up to the job and that offended you a little. That because you were on probation didn't mean you were cut out to work with him. You had gone through all the training and schooling that he had, so why was he giving you such a hard time?

"Don't mind Buck," Eddie was the one to nudge you this time. "He just likes to tease. Ease up, alright?" He leaned over to look at his friend. "It's her first day." Eddie didn't know why, but he felt the need to protect you.

“I’m just teasing,” Buck replied. “She can take it,” he nudged you. Could you, though?

The rest of the shift was nothing but tiring as you responded to multiple calls and by the end of it, you were beginning to feel super sore even though you hadn’t done nearly as much as the others. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but that was what you liked about it. You felt like you always needed to be challenged and maybe this was finally going to be the job for you.

It had been a week since you started working with the 118 crew and you really did feel like you were fitting in with everyone. Well, everyone except Buck. He was especially hard on you and you weren’t sure why since all the others seemed to think you were doing a pretty good job. He’d tell you that the dishes weren’t washed the right way or that you missed a spot when wiping down the engine. The rest of the crew told him to knock it off, but he wouldn’t let up.

Buck wasn’t doing it because he didn’t think you were good enough, he just felt like you needed a little push. You were working hard, but he felt like you needed to work harder. He was just trying to make you into the best firefighter that you could be, and yeah, maybe sometimes he was being a bit too harsh, but really, all he was trying to do was help.

But that wasn’t the way you saw it. At that point, you were just convinced that he didn’t like you. He just wasn’t as nice as the other’s in the crew and he certainly wasn’t going to tell you what his intentions were. You’d never admit it, but he was starting to frustrate you. Bobby was the one in charge and here Buck was trying to tell you what to do. It was infuriating.

You weren’t going to tell him that, though. When you were angry with people, you tended to just ignore them and pretend that they weren’t there. You weren’t a fan of confrontation so that was the only way to let people know that you were upset. And you felt like it really sent the message in a more subtle way.

Buck didn’t seem to take your silence as anger, though. He just continued on with his teasing and pointing out your wrongs like nothing had changed. Maybe you should have taken a different approach, but what was done was done.

The only thing that seemed to make it worse was the fact that you and Buck turned out to live in the same apartment building. You saw him one night when you were getting off He awkwardly made small talk with you but you just acted as if he wasn’t there, completely ignoring him until the elevator got to your floor. Maybe it was more rude that you were willing to admit, but you had a point to prove.

Every time Buck saw you in the elevator, though, he still tried to act as if the two of you were actually friends. He would try and make jokes with you and when he was feeling a bit more confident, he would even get a little flirty, loving the way you would get all flustered and lower your head so he couldn’t see the adorable look on your face.

Then came the night at the bar. The 118 insisted on taking you out to celebrate your first week and everyone discovered that you were a completely different person when you drank. You were significantly more outgoing to the point where they were convinced that you were someone else. The normal you definitely wouldn’t have danced on the bar.

Buck watched you and Eddie from the other end of the table. He had his arm draped over the back of your chair and he was leaning into you as the two of you whispered and giggled with each other. It made Buck sick, but there was no way in hell that he’d admit that.

“Hey probie,” Buck called from across the table and both you and Eddie’s giggles were cut short, the two of you turning to the man who was trying to get your attention. “You wanna play some pool?”

You nodded enthusiastically and pulled Eddie along even though the invitation wasn’t extended to him. There was no way you were going to be alone with Buck for that long. The three of you headed to the table that was across from the one where you were sitting and Eddie handed you a cue which you gratefully took.

“I don’t know how to play,” you told him. “Can you teach me?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Eddie talked you through the game and you listened and nodded despite knowing exactly how to play. You were just trying to get him to actually help you. You wanted him to stand behind you and help you guide the cue where it was supposed to go.

Buck was the one to break and then the balls were assigned to the three of you. You were pretty good at the game, but you were just trying to get Eddie’s attention, wanting him to help you in any way that he could.

“Can you show me?” You bat your lashes and Buck could see what you were up to, able to see right through all your tricks and he had to admit that you were good.

“Of course,” Eddie nodded and moved to stand behind you. He placed his hands on top of yours and guided you, causing the ball you wanted to hit to be launched into one of the pockets. Buck could feel his blood boiling when you stood on your toes to press a kiss to Eddie’s cheek and was very tempted to throw in the towel right there.

Eddie helped you throughout the entire game and Buck was suspiciously quiet as he watched the two of you. He didn’t like the way Eddie would drape his arm over your shoulder and tuck you into his side. He also didn’t like the way he’d lean down to listen to what you had to say because you were so soft spoken.

What was so great about Eddie? Sure, the guy was his best friend, so he could see it, but what did you see in him? What was the thing that set him apart from Buck? Maybe it was because Buck had a history of sleeping around and that none of his relationships lasted very long, but that wasn’t necessarily his fault.

It was down to Buck and Eddie and they were both competing to hit the black eight ball. Buck seemed to be hitting it a bit too hard and Eddie wondered what was causing him to be so competitive. Anytime they played, it was always a friendly game and now he was acting like he wanted Eddie dead. He was going to have to ask him about it later.

It was Buck’s turn to hit the ball and he turned to you to see if you were watching only to see you applying some lip gloss. You dropped it and bent down to pick it up, giving him a great view of your ass. He was so occupied with his staring that he wasn’t paying attention and hit the ball without even looking.

“Ha!” Eddie pointed at him. “You scratched so I win.”

“That’s not fair!” Buck retorted, putting the cue stick away. He really didn’t believe that it was. He was only human and didn’t think it was fair that he only lost because you had distracted him.

“Life’s not fair, Buckley,” Eddie laughed. “Well, I’m gonna head out and get Chris to bed. Y/n, you need a ride home?”

“No thanks. I think I’m gonna hang here a while.”

“You’ll stay with her?” Eddie asked and who was Buck to say no?

“Yeah, sure, probie, I’ll keep you company,” he patted your shoulder and Eddie gave you and Buck hugs before heading out to his truck, leaving the two of you alone. Both Hen and Ravi left a while ago so it was just the two of you and a few others still there.

Maybe you really were drunk since you were willing to spend time with him. You pulled him over to the bar to get another drink and he was hoping that he could get you to see that he really wasn’t all bad. That he was a nice guy and that he was completely willing to show that to you if you would have let him.

There was a man to the far left, nursing a beer and you briefly made eye contact with him, giving him a smile before turning back to Buck. He, for whatever reason, took that as an invitation to come over to you and got a little close for your liking. You moved closer to Buck to show the man that you were with someone, but that didn’t seem to deter him.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he greeted and you could feel bile rising in your throat. You ignored him and felt a little guilty for doing so, but you knew that you weren’t required to be nice to him.

“Hi,” Buck replied, sensing that you were uncomfortable. As a man, he didn’t see why other men preyed on people when they were clearly uncomfortable. Why they never took no for an answer and would try their hardest to take what they wanted, not caring who they hurt in the process.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the man shot back with a glare. “C’mon, don’t be shy. I won’t bite. Unless you ask,” he winked and you could feel the anger building up inside you. You had been told those words so many times in your life and you were sick and tired of that being a problem for people. Especially men that were trying to hit on you.

“I’m not interested, thank you,” you turned to him and he put on a smile. You also hated that you felt obligated to be polite and felt like someone bad would have happened if you didn’t. What was so wrong with saying no? Why did you feel like you had to spare their feelings when you were the one who was uncomfortable?

“Ah, so she speaks.” You could smell the alcohol on his breath as he got closer and your stomach lurched as you felt like there was no return.

“Can you please leave me alone? You’re making me very uncomfortable.” That only made him step closer and you stepped away, your back colliding with Buck’s chest and he rested his hands on your arms, pulling you into him.

“Oh, is this your boyfriend? I’m into threesomes,” he tried to reach out and grab your hand, but you pulled it away before he could, the bile coming up more quickly now.

“She said to leave her alone,” Buck said. He could see your shaking hands and wondered why your fear wasn’t making the guy let up. He was about to do something drastic until the man spoke up again.

“Why don’t you make me?” Without another word and only having thought about it for a split second, your fist collided with his face, the force causing him to stumble back.

You could see the anger in his eyes as he lifted his head and blood poured from his nose as you shook your hand, hoping that would get rid of the pain, but it didn’t. He clutched his nose then made a beeline for the bathroom to clean himself up, giving you and Buck the perfect chance to call it a night.

Both you and Buck gasped at your actions and you both hurried to pay your tabs before Buck took your hand and pulled you out of the bar to his jeep. All you could think about was how guilty you felt for punching the guy, but you knew that Buck would have just told you that he deserved it.

And maybe he did. He was crossing a boundary and definitely needed to be put in his place. And yeah, maybe a punch wasn’t the best move, but it was the first thing you thought of to do and clearly it had worked.

“Damn, I didn’t peg you for a slugger, probie,” Buck laughed as he opened the passenger door of his jeep for you.

“I’m not. I mean, I know how to, but I never thought I’d have to throw a punch.”

“Well, he deserved it. Are you okay? Can I get you anything? I know that can be scary and I want to make sure you’re good before I take you home.”

“I’m good, Buck. Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “Your chariot awaits, ma’am,” he opened the door wider and you got into the seat before he closed it and got in on his side.

You thought he was going to start the vehicle up, but instead, he reached over and opened the glove compartment and pulled out a small first aid kit. He set it on top of the console and pulled out an alcohol pad, some antibacterial gel and some gauze.

“Can I see your hand?” You held it out to him and he opened the alcohol pad before rubbing the stranger’s blood off of your knuckles before putting on some of the gel and wrapping it up in the gauze. “Be sure to put some ice on it when you get home,” he said before letting go of your hand and you almost didn’t want him to. It was soft but rough and you immediately wanted to grab it and intertwine your fingers, letting them rest together on the center console.

The car ride on the way to your building was silent and you were on the fence about how you felt about it. A part of you liked it since the bar had been so overstimulating, but the other wanted to fill it so you wouldn’t have any opportunity to think about all of the things that made you anxious.

You wondered if Buck was going to behave that way with you from now on or if it was a one off because of the alcohol. Granted, he hadn’t had a drink in hours, but still. He was being so caring and thoughtful and you couldn’t help but wonder what had changed.

Buck, on the other hand, still wasn’t able to realize that he was crushing on you. The jealousy that coursed through him when you were with Eddie should have been a tip off, but it wasn’t. He was still convinced that he was just protective, but really, that was the role that Eddie had taken on.

Or maybe he knew how he felt, but was suppressing it because of his dating history. People didn’t seem to want to be with him for very long and he was beginning to think that he was the problem. Everyone was always leaving him behind and he couldn’t stand to add you to that list.

He didn’t think he was good enough anyway. Eddie was the one that you deserved. He was sweet and kind and obviously cared for you. And he seemed to be more of an adult than Buck was. He didn’t sleep around and had actual adult relationships, something that Buck still wasn’t super accustomed to. He knew he could be that for you if that was what you wanted, but he felt like you deserved much better that what he was able to offer at the moment.

He pulled into his spot in the parking garage and the two of you headed for the elevators before Buck pressed the button with the arrow facing upwards before leaning his back against the wall.

You awkwardly stood in front of him, going back to your old self since the effects of the alcohol had worn off. You crossed your arms over your chest then stepped into the elevator as soon as it opened, Buck following you.

You pressed the buttons for both of your floors and actually found yourself hating to cut your time with him short. You glanced at him and were surprised to find that he was already looking at you. He was sporting a cute smirk and all of a sudden, you found yourself wanting to know what his lips felt like. Maybe there was a little alcohol in your system after all.

The doors opened on your floor and you shook off some of your nerves and pressed a featherlight kiss to his cheek before pulling away.

“Goodnight, Buckley.”

“Goodnight, slugger,” he replied, giving you a new nickname that you definitely preferred to “probie.”

You stepped out of the elevator and stood there until it closed, watching it go up, taking your cute coworker with it. As soon as he was alone, Buck chuckled to himself, wondering what had prompted you to kiss him, but knowing that he shouldn’t have questioned it. At that rate, he was going to take what he could get. And if he was going to get more kisses from you, he was really going to have to play his cards right.

[ace-turned-confused]

sea spray | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist

summary: a relaxing weekend break by the sea is just what you need, but spending it under the same roof as joel miller might not be the kind of relaxing you had in mind word count: 3,4k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied / wears a bikini & a dress / can swim, pet names, unspecified age gap, food & alcohol consumption, smut, m masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v, spitting, creampie, overstimulation, joel's filthy mouth, praise kink, size kink a/n: i actually did spend the past weekend by the sea, unfortunately without joel miller 😔 written for @mermaidgirl30's Ocean Challenge! of course it took the entire timeframe of your challenge for inspiration to strike, but it was super fun! 🩵 big hugs to @morallyinept for beta'ing & the kind words, your message legit put the biggest grin on my face LMAO ily 💜

Going away with your parents for a long weekend is just what you need — walks along the cliff path, cocktails on the beach, lounging in the sun. Plus the bonus of free accommodation and your meals being paid for. You’re long overdue for a break and this will be a good change of scenery.

The bricks burn through your sandals as you unload your bags. Midday sun blazing down on you, you’re desperate for a cold shower after two hours of traffic to get here.

“Hello?”

You’re met with silence as you push open the front door, a rare breeze coming through the windows. They must’ve gone into town. Kicking off your shoes, you pad through to your room at the back of the house and dump your bags.

You peel your clothes off and run a shower, washing off the sweat and stress of the morning. Unpacking your bags, most of your weekend attire is swimsuits and dresses; you’ll just be floating around the house the rest of the day and decide on a blue and white check bikini, pulling on plain linen shorts.

Making your way upstairs, the rest of the house is still, the only sound coming from slow waves rolling against the rocks. Kelp bobs up and down in the swell and wispy clouds dot the sky, you pull your phone out to snap some pictures to send to your friends, relishing in the tranquillity.

You hear muted footsteps and turn around, expecting to see your parents come up the stairs. Instead, you’re met with Joel Miller — your dad's best friend with nothing but a thin towel hanging low on his hips.

“Oh! Didn’t uh- didn’t hear you come in sweetheart.”

Your eyes flicker down as he adjusts his towel — he clears his throat and you snap your eyes back up to his face.

“I got in about half an hour ago, I just got out of the shower. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Your old man told me to come up for the weekend, he didn’t mention what time they’d be back this afternoon though.”

You nod and turn to look outside again, the image of Joel in his towel now burned into your mind. You don’t ask him about it — no possible explanation would stop your mind from wandering.

You were much younger the last time you saw him — just a sweet girl harbouring an innocent crush on a handsome man. Now you’re far from sweet, and that crush is far from innocent. This is the most you’ve ever seen of him — greying curls in every direction, wide chest into a soft tummy, dark trail of hair below his navel disappearing beneath his towel.

You can feel a wet spot forming on your bikini bottoms — so much for a relaxing weekend.

-

Joel’s seen you in passing and heard about your various achievements and adventures from your parents, but it’s been years since he spent so much time with you in such close quarters. He can’t remember you being so… grown up.

Seeing you stand there in just your bikini, your eyes flitting down to his towel, he almost instantly began to harden. Maybe some light conversation will calm him down.

“So, what you got planned for the rest of the day?”

You turn to face him again and he takes a steadying breath.

“I was gonna head down to the beach but it’s fucking hot out, so I think I’ll just be lazy here instead.”

“Pool’s nice if you’re keen on a swim.”

You slink past to head downstairs, stopping in front of him to look up at him.

“You wanna join me?”

“Think I’ll uh, sit this one out. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

Scratching at the nape of his neck as you descend the stairs, he’s not sure how he’s going to survive this weekend. He shouldn’t be looking at you like this — you’re young, spritely, his best friend’s daughter — but he watches out the window anyway as you pull down your shorts, glass in hand, and dip down into the water.

He sneaks off to his room before you can notice.

-

Sitting on the edge of the bed with his head tilted to the ceiling, he’s already fully hard. He lets the towel fall open and wraps a hand around his throbbing cock. He shouldn’t do this, but who’s going to know?

Stroking himself with long, slow pumps, he closes his eyes and all he can see is you. Ass peeking out the edge of your bottoms, your tits spilling out your bikini top, so much skin. You sighed as you sat down in the water, a breathy, satiated sound — he wishes he could make those sounds spill from your mouth.

Precome leaking from his tip, he’s reaching his end embarrassingly fast. Speeding up to fist himself tightly, he imagines your hand wrapped around his cock instead. He imagines burying his tongue, fingers, cock into your cunt, tight and wet and his to have however he pleases.

It takes just one, two, three more strokes of his cock and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, biting back a moan as he comes, spilling milky ropes across his hand and lower stomach. Using the same towel to clean up his mess, he tells himself he won’t do this again, he can’t do this again.

He shifts up to lean against the headboard as he comes down from his high, deciding to stay clear of you until your parents get home. Keeping you out of sight is the best way forward, even if he can’t keep you out of his mind.

-

You spend the rest of the day in the pool, nursing a Long Island iced tea and paging through your book. Joel doesn’t show face again, but it’s for the best — you can’t stop thinking about that damn towel and how easily it could slip down.

Your phone rings and pulls you from your daydreaming; you haul yourself out of the pool and pat yourself dry, fingertips wrinkled from the water. You see it’s your mom calling, and slide to answer.

You don’t get a chance to say hello and she’s bombarding you with questions.

“Hi, sweetie! How was the drive? I hope you didn’t have too much traffic. Oh! And did you see Joel? He’s with us for the weekend, maybe he went out for the day too.”

You certainly did see Joel. You still can even with your eyes closed.

“Hi, Mom. The drive was fine, and Joel’s been here the whole day.”

“That’s nice. I hope you don’t mind, you two always got along well so your father didn’t think to tell you beforehand. Listen, why don’t you and Joel come through to town for dinner with us? I’ll send you the restaurant name.”

“Yeah, okay sure. See you soon.”

“Bye, sweetie. See you.”

She hangs up the phone and you venture inside to find Joel, heading towards the spare room. Pressing your ear to the door, you don’t hear any movement. Maybe he’s sleeping.

“Joel?” You knock on the door and hear rustling, he responds a few moments later.

“Yeah? You can- you can come in.”

You nudge the door open and he’s sitting up in bed, sheets pulled to the same height his towel was hanging earlier and it takes everything you have not to stare, debate if he’s still got that towel on or is stark naked.

Stepping just over the threshold, you lean against the wall to steady yourself and focus your eyes on his face.

“My mom called, she said we must go into town to meet them for dinner. She texted me the address.”

“Sounds good, I can drive us. I’ll just uh, get ready.”

You nod and retreat from his room in silence — you’ll be able to hold a conversation once he’s fully clothed.

-

Tonight’s restaurant is right along the shoreline, carved into the cliffside. It’s a good climb down the hillside and you’re glad you’re wearing flats, mentally noting to go easy on the drinks tonight to make it back up again. Gentle waves lap against the rocks and the sea breeze is just the refresher you need after a hot summer day.

You’ve changed into a strappy dress, the hemline falling just above your knees and Joel’s in a loose button-down and board shorts. Your parents are sitting across from you, and they’d spent the better part of an hour asking you about work and romantic prospects.

Once satisfied with your answers, they turn to focus on each other, leaving you and Joel to your own devices. With them both engrossed in conversation, you try and test the waters.

You shift your legs under the table and bump your knee into Joel’s — his hand falters as he scoops more food onto his spoon, but doesn’t pull away. You push further, pressing your thigh against his and he stills completely, peering at you out of the corner of his eye.

The unfortunate combination of the summer heat and your heavy hand when pouring your drink earlier has made you fearless. You snake a hand below the table, resting it dangerously close to the growing bulge in his shorts.

He drops his spoon, catching your dad’s attention.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, uh… Yeah, fine.” He swallows and gives them a tight smile, waiting for them to continue their conversation.

“What the hell are you doin’?” Joel practically hisses at you under his breath, eyes flashing in your direction.

You ignore him and flatten your hand, unsure if the heat you can feel is radiating from him or yourself. You continue moving upwards, the tips of your fingers brushing against the outline of his cock.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” You whisper back to him, unmoving in your chair.

You start palming him through his shorts, angling your head to look at him and a fresh wave of arousal floods your panties.

“Sweetheart, you can’t be doin’ this. Not here.”

“Say stop and I will.”

His eyes flutter closed, taking in a shaky breath. It feels like he’s already fully hard.

Just when you think you’ve won, your parents stand up and you rip your hand away, heart racing in your chest. Caught up in your teasing you hadn’t noticed they’d finished dessert and paid the bill. You look at your dad with wide eyes, hoping nobody saw anything.

“Nice dinner, everyone. Good to have you here, kiddo. We’ll see you back at the house, been a long day.”

“Um, yeah, we’ll follow you guys.” You hope you sound less startled than you feel. 

He rounds the table, a hand coming down on your and Joel’s shoulders and he walks off. You and Joel stand to follow him — your mind foggy with lust, you can feel his eyes burn into you, but you don’t dare look at him.

-

Arriving home after a charged car ride with Joel, your parents say goodnight and their door shuts behind them. The room falls silent, you’re unsure who will make the first move. Joel grabs onto your arm, dragging you through the house.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me now, sweetheart. You’re gonna finish what you started.”

He pulls your dress over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Pushing you onto your bed, his eyes trail up and down your figure as you lie before him.

“What were you doing all afternoon? Didn’t see you at all.”

“You wanna know what I was doing?”

You nod and he leans down to speak into your ear, voice low and raspy.

“I was thinkin’ of you, baby. That skimpy little bikini of yours got me all hard, so instead of spendin’ my time out by the beach, I was jacking off in my room and all I could think of was you.”

A shiver runs down your spine, a small whine escaping at his words.

“Thought a lotta things about how you’d be, now we’re gonna see how much of it is true.”

He pushes you down to lie on your back, pulling your panties down. You try to cross your legs out of habit and he grabs your knees, spreading you open before him.

“Now we’re shy, are we? Don’t want me seeing this pretty pussy?”

He cups you entirely and you tilt your hips, chasing the friction of his palm against your clit.

“After that little game you played just now, you’re gonna take what I give you, and you’re gonna enjoy it.”

He wraps his arms under your legs, dragging you to the edge of the bed and drops to his knees, draping one leg over each of his shoulders. You look down at him and he stares into your eyes, flattening his tongue against you and licking a broad stripe up through your folds. He sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue swirling in tight circles and your head falls back against the bed.

“Oh, fuck, Joel.”

He chuckles into you, causing you to moan again.

“Better than the boys you normally go out with?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer, tongue circling your clit again and he drags his fingers up and down, coating them in your arousal. Pushing two fingers into your cunt, the stretch is already far more than with your own — you’re not sure how you’ll ever satisfy yourself after this.

He pumps his fingers in and out, in and out, curling them upwards and you feel heat spreading across your abdomen, your legs just beginning to tremble. You move your hands into his hair, tugging on his curls and he groans against you, speeding up his movements.

“You gonna come for me?”

“Please, Joel. Oh, god, please.”

“Go on then, come. I know you can.”

You tighten your grip on his hair, legs going stiff as you come on his fingers and his movements don’t stop, tongue flicking back and forth over your clit, fingers fucking into you relentlessly to drag out your high. With no chance to recover, he pushes a third finger into you, his pace never faltering.

“Joel, please. It’s too much.”

He pulls off from you just enough to speak, a devilish grin on his face.

“Say stop and I will. I told you you were gonna take what I gave you.”

Mouth latching onto you again, he ignores your protesting, eyes boring into your own. You can see him rutting into the side of the bed and your moans turn into whines and whimpers, the heat pooling at the base of your spine more intense than before.

“Come on, sweetheart, be a good girl for me.”

Pushing his free hand down onto you, he curls his fingers inside of you, grazing over that one spongy spot and your vision blurs. You dig your heels into his back, hips lifting off the bed as you come again, a warm stream of liquid soaking his beard that’s scratching at your inner thighs.

Chest heaving as you come down, he pulls his fingers out and sucks one into his mouth, licking it clean.

“Better than I imagined.”

He leans over you, shoving his other two sticky fingers into your mouth and you whine at tasting yourself on him.

“All that messing around and look where it got you.”

He unbuttons his shirt agonisingly slowly, a smirk spreading across his face. His eyes are blown wide, beard slick with your release as he trails his fingertips up and down your leg, the small hairs standing in his wake. You close your legs and flop back onto the bed, already feeling spent.

“Just one more thing I needa see for myself.”

Finally pulling his shorts down, that tantalising trail of hair you saw this morning spreads into wiry curls surrounding the base of his cock. He’s bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with, fully stiff as he takes himself in his hand with long strokes — thick, throbbing, and precome pearling from his tip.

“Are you gonna fuck my mouth?”

He draws circles into your leg, still stroking himself.

“Not this time. Wanna feel how tight this pussy’s gonna squeeze my cock.”

Not this time. You clench around nothing in anticipation, and he starts crawling up the bed to you.

“Be good and maybe we can use that mouth of yours another day.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, Joel drags himself through your wetness, nudging the tip of his cock against your clit.

“Gonna be a tight fit, sweetheart. Might just ruin this cunt for anyone else.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, both of your eyes locked on where you join. Pushing in just past his tip, your mouth falls open with a strangled moan.

“Warned you. Feels good, doesn’t it?” All you do is whimper in response.

“Gonna feel even better.”

He sheaths himself completely inside of you, hair at his base pressed against your clit and balls pressed against your ass. It’s the most stretched out you’ve ever been — it’s also the best you’ve ever felt and he hasn’t even started moving.

He leans over you and starts grinding his hips, pulling your bra down. Pinching a hardened nipple between his fingers, he takes the other into his mouth, swirling his tongue just the same as before.

You lock your ankles behind his back, legs wrapped around his waist and arms wrapped around his neck, holding onto him as if you’d float away. He lifts his head, a trail of spit connecting his lips to your breast. Bringing a hand up to your face, he squeezes your cheeks to force your mouth open, looking into your eyes as he spits into the back of your throat.

You moan quietly, clenching around his length and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

“Dirty girl. You let other boys spit into your mouth, too?”

You shake your head clumsily and tighten your legs, trying your hardest to grind yourself against him.

“What’s wrong, baby? What happened to it’s too much?”

He straightens up and pries your legs off him, pressing them into your chest. His eyes are dark as he watches how you squirm and stretch around him. He angles his head forward, letting another string of saliva fall from his mouth onto your cunt and it drips down around his cock.

Using two fingers, he puts slight pressure on your clit but doesn’t move.

“You’re gonna come on my cock, and then I’m gonna come inside you. Understand?”

You’re not sure how to string words together on your own accord anymore, clit throbbing and cunt stretched out, mind filled with just Joel.

“Hey, repeat after me, come on: I’m gonna be a good girl.”

“I’m gonna be a… a good girl.”

“Next: I’m gonna come on your big cock.”

“I’m gonna come- on your big cock.”

“And to finish off: You’re gonna come inside me.”

“You’re… gonna come inside me.”

“Was that so difficult?”

He readjusts his grip on your legs and starts pounding into you, the force of his thrusts shifting you up and down, your clit rubbing against his steady fingers. Your moans are only broken by the need for more air, your voice becoming hoarse and getting higher and higher in pitch as he keeps going harder.

You start clamping down on him, the day’s heat and your teasing and the way he’s using you relentlessly quickly becoming too much.

“Come on, sweetheart. You’ve been such a good girl. Come one last time for me and I’ll fill you up.”

His words push you over the edge and he keeps fucking into you as you come. You reach down to hold onto him, your hands wrapping around his arm and you dig your nails into his skin, carving out crescent moons.

Through the ringing in your ears, you can hear him grunting, his resolve finally breaking after a few more thrusts as he spills inside of you, your walls coated in his spend as the warmth spreads throughout your body. He loosens his hold on your legs, bringing them down and massages your tired muscles.

Pulling out of you, you feel his come slowly leak out and down your folds, landing in thick droplets on the sheets. You turn onto your side, sleep already creeping up on you and he drops down behind you, his chest pressed against your back and softening cock against your ass.

“We’re going to the beach tomorrow, and I wanna see what other little outfits you got with you. Try another game like you did tonight, though, and I’m gonna have to put you in your place again.”

You huff a laugh, a gentle, satisfied smile on your face. This long weekend is suddenly far more exciting than you prepared for.

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 7: The Realization

A/N: Thank you to everyone who’s enjoyed this series! When I had the idea for this, I had NO idea it was going to be as well loved as it’s become. I love and appreciate every like, follow, reblog, and ask!

As Bruce walks down the staircase and steps foot on the foyer’s marble floor, he realizes that something’s wrong. Well, he’s known that something’s been wrong for four years now, but he’s attributed it to his pile of never-ending cases, particularly the murder of the Joker and Harley Quinn, which has been eating away at him ever since that night and has occupied every corner of his mind. It’s been four years since he discovered their remains and he’s still in the dark, the only piece of evidence he has is some strange substance reminiscent of mold found within Joker’s remains.

What he’s currently feeling, however? It’s not the need to solve a case that threatens his city. It’s as if something is wrong with the manor itself, like there’s something missing. Something that he’s never paid much attention before but has always known is there, and now that something’s wrong, he can’t help but rack his brain for what it could be.

As he tries to thinks, he walks to the kitchen to find a snack (something pre-made, Alfred’s permanently banned him from ever cooking in his kitchen ever again) when he hears voices. Three voices, to be precise, and they’re definitely amused by something. As he gets closer, he can make out what they’re saying.

“I can’t believe he of all people would have this,” Tim says, an obvious smile intertwined in his tone.

“Hey, we’re all free to do what we want in our spare time,” Dick responds. “And if anyone in this house has earned spare time, it’s Alfred.”

“I’m not saying he shouldn’t do stuff he likes on his time off,” Tim quickly counters. “I’m just saying that I never would’ve expected him to be into stuff like this.”

“For once, I agree with Drake,” Damian, the third voice, interjects. “Pennyworth is a man of refined taste. For him to indulge in this childish entertainment is entirely unexpected. Only mindless buffoons would subject themselves to this drivel.”

“Hey,” Time exclaims, offended. “I happen to enjoy this ‘childish entertainment.’”

“My point stands. Once again, you prove your inferiority and poor breeding, Drake.”

That’s when Bruce decides to step in before a fight can break out in the kitchen (again) and enters, all three of his sons, who are crowding around something on the kitchen island, turning to him.

“Hey, B,” Dick says with his usual smile adorning his face.

“Hey,” Tim adds, glaring at Damian.

“Hello, Father,” Damian says, not sparing a glance at Tim and a ghost of a smirk on his face.

“Hello, boys. Is something wrong? I heard something about Alfred.”

“No, we just learned something amazing,” Dick answers, practically buzzing with joy. “You’ll never guess what Alfred’s into!”

This certainly catches his attention. He’s known his faithful butler his entire life and likes to think he knows everything about the man who raised him after his parents were killed. To find something out about the man he didn’t know before is something that’s definitely worth his attention.

“What,” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

The three of them part, revealing a laptop on the granite top. More specifically, it’s Alfred’s laptop. It’s strange enough that the man who takes the care of his kitchen as gospel would leave something like his laptop out in the open (especially since he’s always on their case about snooping on each other’s personal lives), but what really blows his mind is what’s on the screen: the menu for what appears to be a video game. It features what appears to be a derelict ship floating in space with soft music playing in the background and several options on the lower part and what he’s assuming is the title on the upper part: Salvage Rights.

“Alfred plays video games,” he asks, completely bewildered at the discovery.

“That’s what I said,” Tim exclaims. “I mean, I think it’s great if he wants to do that. I just didn’t expect him to be a gamer.”

“Don’t group Pennyworth in with your group of pathetic mouth breathers who don’t know what is fiction and what is reality.”

“So, what’s it about,” he asks, trying to stop a fight from breaking out in the kitchen that will net all of them in trouble.

“I’ve been trying to avoid spoilers, but from what I can tell you, it take place in the future after the sun imploded, forcing several fleets of ships to flee to a nearby star cluster, but only a few planets in the cluster can support human life naturally and several of them hold valuable resources, causing a war between three different factions to break out for control over the cluster,” his explains excitedly, making Bruce smile at the sight of his third son acting like a young man his age should. “You play the captain of a prospecting vessel that salvages derelict ships and during a salvage of a ship that dates back to before the sun imploding, you find something valuable that could determine who wins the war.”

“How absurd,” Damian mutters. “That story is utterly ridiculous. Whoever wrote it should be ashamed.”

“Who should be ashamed, Master Damian,” Alfred asks as he enters the kitchen.

“Whoever wrote the story for this absurd game you are apparently fond of,” his youngest son retorts.

“None of us thought you were into video games, Alfred,” Tim adds.

“I wouldn’t say that, Master Timothy, but I know its creator and I know he worked very hard to make the game you see before you. It makes me so happy that he finally achieved his goals and I want to do my part to support him. I hope he gets all the acclaim and recognition he rightfully deserves deserves.”

“Whoa, you know who he created Salvage Rights,” Tim asks, mesmerized. “Who?”

“It’s someone you all know: Master Y/N.”

Y/N? All of a sudden, he realizes a mistake he made earlier: Tim isn’t his third child, Y/N is. Wait, when was the last time he talked to his firstborn? Hell, when was the last time he talked to you? Wait, what do you even look like? How old are you?

This starts a cascade of realizations: he’s never celebrated your birthday. Or Christmas. Or even had a gala for you like all his children got to welcome them in his family.

“Y/N’s a video game developer,” Tim asks, breaking Bruce out of his thoughts. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, that’s because none of you have ever had a conversation with the poor lad,” Alfred retorts, his look of disapproval returning. “I never knew it was possible to not say a single word to someone you’ve lived with for years, but you showed me such a thing was possible.”

Bruce looks to his sons and upon seeing their expressions, he knows that none of them have talked to you, either. This definitely doesn’t bode well for them. Or you.

“Well, we should go talk to him,” Dick pipes up, trying to stay upbeat, but he’s obviously upset at this realization. He moves to leave the kitchen. “Is he in his room?”

“His room isn’t in the family wing,” Alfred responds, stopping Dick’s stride.

That’s when Bruce realizes that he’s never seen you coming or going from any of the bedrooms in their part of the manor. If your room isn’t with theirs, where do you sleep?

“His room is on the other side of the manor,” Alfred says, as if he read Bruce’s mind.

And with that, he leaves the kitchen and all four of them follow the butler, their steps heavy and slow from guilt. Bruce’s guilt only grows as they walk through corridor after corridor, eventually replace clean and pristine for dirty and decrepit. With a manor as large as Wayne Manor, cleaning is a battle, requiring an army to maintain it, but with Alfred being the only one, Bruce told the man to leave the uninhabited wings alone and only clean them when they have guests, which Bruce tries to keep to a minimum as someone in his position in Gotham’s high society can get away with.

Have you been staying in this forgotten part for the manor ever since you came to live here? With only dust and pests for company?

After he talks to you, he intends on moving you to the bedroom next to his; it’s been empty for years and has been going to waste. When you move into that room, he’ll check on you everyday, waking you up himself and walking you down to the dining room for breakfast every morning.

“Why is his room so far from ours, Pennyworth,” Damian asks.

“Well, when he first moved in, none of the rooms in the family wing weren’t fit to be slept in,” Alfred explains. “By the time I prepared a room for him, Master Timothy came to live with us and Master Y/N said he could have that room. Every time I finally got a room prepared for him, Master Bruce had a new addition to the family. By the time you joined the family, he insisted he remained where he was.”

That stopped all further questions, leaving them to process the new information in silence.

“Here we are,” Alfred announces when they reach a door on the far side of the manor.

Bruce decides that he needs to be the one to talk to you first, so he knocks on the door.

“Y/N,” he says after knocking once. “Can I come in?”

That’s when Alfred opens the door and before Bruce can say anything, he looks inside to see not only you not in there, but your room’s the size of a broom closet compared to the rooms all of them enjoy. One thing he notices is that the room’s surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the wing it resides in; based off the lingering smell of cleaning products, Alfred must’ve cleaned it recently.

“What a hovel,” Damian remarks as they enter, looking around.

“Indeed,” Alfred responds. “This is a guest room we specifically use for guests who are unwanted.”

Those words hit Bruce harder than Bane ever could. When Damian first moved in, he complained that the size was “insufficient” and he needed more room; so, he had a perfectly good bedroom be added on to his room, doubling its size to accommodate his pets, weapons, art supplies, and whatever else he keeps in there, instead of going to you and leaving you to rot in a guest room they use for people that aren’t wanted here.

He looks over at the bed to see the painfully small mattress is definitely past its prime, worn out from years of use. The bed frame isn’t a better, either based on the fact it looks like it’ll break at any moment. He presses a hand on the mattress and winces when he feels the large indention and hears the loud squeaking.

Good god, how did you even sleep on this thing for a day let alone for years? Not only does it look uncomfortable, but it’s barely big enough to hold a child, let alone… whatever you are.

“It’s pretty empty in here,” Tim remarks as he examines the dresser. “Guess there’s not a lot of room for decorations.”

“While there were very little decorations in here while he was living here, he took almost everything with him when he left, Master Dick. Very little was left behind. He told me I could destroy everything he left behind, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw away anything of his.”

Every second in here makes Bruce feel more horrible at how he’s treated his son. He needs to find you. Immediately.

“Where is he, Alfred,” Bruce asks, eager to find you and find some way to make amends.

“I’m afraid he doesn’t live in the manor anymore, Master Bruce. Master Y/N left us some time ago.”

Once again, Bruce feels like he’s been sucker punched in the gut, leaving him breathless. You moved out?

“When,” Dick asks, clearly upset.

“Four years ago. The night he graduated from Gotham Academy.”

“That’s when I graduated,” Tim realizes.

Bruce remembers that: four years ago on the night Tim was set to graduate, he and all of his children (well, all except you) were busy combing Gotham for Joker and Harley’s killer, listening in on countless criminals celebrating the Clown Prince of Crime’s demise.

Christ, he can remember that, but not his own son? He knew he wasn’t the best father in the world (despite the mug that says otherwise courtesy of Dick), but he had no idea he had failed one person so much. How much he failed his firstborn son.

“Wait,” Bruce spits out. “If he graduated and none of us were there, who was with him?”

Oh god, if Alfred says no one was with him, he actually cry in front of all of them. To know that his son had no one to celebrate his big night would drive him off the edge.

“I was, Master Bruce.” Hearing that makes him feel a bit better, but not enough to really do anything about the pit of guilt building in his stomach. The butler pulls out his phone and types on it before holding it up for them to see. “This is him walking with his classmates.”

He watches the video of you (fuck, you’re so much older than he remembers) wearing the traditional black and gold gown for all Gotham Academy graduates (he sees the usual black and gold cap has been decorated, but he can’t see from this angle), walking in line with your fellow classmates, all of them wearing caps and gowns.

That’s when he realizes that there’s no pictures of you anywhere in the manor. He instantly thinks of the last family portrait he had commissioned (around the time Damian moved in) hanging above the mantle in the living room, which has him sitting in an elegant white and gold trimmed cushioned chair in the center with a ten-year-old Damian on his right, Barbara in her wheelchair on his left, and behind him from left to right is Cass, Steph, Tim, Jason, Dick, and Alfred.

A family portrait that he treasures not including you. Right now, it feels like he can cry and throw up at the same time.

“Here’s him receiving his diploma,” Alfred says as he swipes right, displaying another video.

Sure enough, the video playing shows the headmaster calling your name (Gould, not Wayne), you walking to the man and receiving your diploma with your left hand and shaking the headmaster’s hand with your right, and walking back to your chair. Each new revelation about you makes the cavern of guilt he’s standing in even deeper; finding out that your last name isn’t his and must be your mother’s, telling the world that there’s no connection between you and him, even though half your DNA came from him.

“A staff member was taking pictures of the graduates as they shook hands with the headmaster and she was kind enough to send it to me,” Alfred says as he swipes again, revealing a picture of you and the headmaster.

He only needs a split second to commit your details to memory. H/c sticking out from your cap that he can tell you’ve decorated and e/c that must come from your mother. And that’s when he realizes that while the color is different, their shape matches his mother’s perfectly. And isn’t that just twisting the knife in his gut.

“And this picture was taken after the ceremony.”

That’s when he sees you as perfectly as he can, standing next to Alfred, who is at an event that he should’ve been at, not looking to arrest someone who killed the man who’s terrorized Gotham for two decades. Nothing happened that night, he should’ve taken the night off to see both of his sons graduate, cheering them on and hugging them after receiving their diplomas.

“Is he still in Gotham,” Damian asks, his voice even, but Bruce can tell his youngest son feels guilty, something he’s only expressed a handful of times during his stay here.

“No, Master Damian, I’m afraid Master Y/N went back home.”

“‘Home,’” Dick exclaims. “This is his home!”

On one hand, Bruce wants to agree with Dick, that the manor is the only place you should call “home,” but on the other hand, he knows that with the way they treated you, he would understand why you’d want to leave him. Leave all of them.

“I’m afraid he felt differently. He told me that he’d been looking forward to going back to the home he lived with his mother. Apparently, the lack of affection and attention from his so-called family made him plan to move back when he turned eighteen, but I was able to convince him to stay so he could graduate.”

It made sense. After being ignored for years, why would you stay when you could leave? Bruce knows this, but now, all he wants is for you to move back in so he can give you all the love you can handle. He wants to have inside jokes with you, to give you a shoulder to cry on when the world overwhelms you, to take you out on quality time with just you and him.

He wants to do all the things for you that he does for his other kids. Things that he should’ve been doing for you from day one. He pulls out his phone and scrolls through his contacts only to find that you’re not only in his house, but you’re not even in his phone. He hasn’t had a single conversation with you in person, why would he think he’s had a conversation with you over text?

“Where is he now,” Bruce asks, his voice hollow and empty even to him.

Right now, all he wants is to learn where you are and try to find some way to make his transgressions up to you.

“I was led to believe Batman is the ‘world’s greatest detective,’” Alfred retorts, an eyebrow raised. “Are you unable to find your son on your own?” Bruce looks at him, making the butler sigh. “He moved back to his home in Goodsprings, Nevada.”

He didn’t even know where you came from before coming to live here. If there was an Olympic event for shitty fathers, Bruce would take home the gold in a landslide right now.

“Of course, you may have a golden opportunity to see him tomorrow night.” Alfred pulls his phone towards him, types something on it, and shows it to them again.

On the screen is a website for something called the Gamer’s Gala, a massive event held yearly where gamers go to see what new video games are planned to be released in the future and where game developers have an opportunity to win the “Golden Joystick,” a trophy given based off their game’s success during the year.

He scrolls through the website to find all the games up for awards and sees Salvage Rights by Gould Games in top contention for Indie Game of the year! He’s so excited to see you’ve found success in your passion and wants to see you walk on stage and accept the award, cementing your place as one of the greatest developers in the world.

According to the website, it’s being held in Metropolis this year due it being hosted completely by Lex Corp and that gets his blood boiling. No doubt this is some attempt to win public favor after yet another failed attempt to kill Superman and he thinks by doing this, people will forget all about whatever illegal activities he was up to his neck in. Had he known this sooner, he would’ve pulled the right to host the event out from under Lex’s feet, sparing no expense to ensure it was the biggest ceremony in the event’s history.

And of course, he’d invite you to stay at the manor the entire time, a room prepared just for you. Right next to his.

“The event is tomorrow night. I believe Batman can take one night off so Bruce Wayne can attend.” Alfred pulls something out from his pocket and holds it up to Bruce. “Master Y/N was kind enough to send me a ticket so I could be there for the biggest night of his life.”

Bruce takes the ticket and looks at it closer. According to the glossy golden ticket, it’s awarding the recipient special seating at a section of the hall reserved only for the friends, families, and special guests of candidates and offering them access to the Developer Lounge, a section of the convention center that only game developers and their guests can enter, where they can eat and drink all they want for free, all of it paid for by Lex Luthor.

When he gets back to the office, he plans on making that man’s life hell. It was bad enough that he somehow came in four years ago and undercut WE with products that he knows for certain were based off his company’s but he has no idea how Luthor was able to get his hands on classified technical specs, costing him and his company several contracts and millions in revenue for that fiscal year, but now, he’s gone and made the biggest night of his son’s life even better, something that he should’ve done.

This ticket is not way of witnessing the greatest moment in your life, but to try to repair his relationship with you.

“Why don’t we all go,” Dick pipes up, looking very uncomfortable. “We should all be there with for him. You know, as a family!”

“I agree with Greyson,” Damian adds. “We should all be there.”

“I’ll get us tickets,” Tim says as he pulls out his phone and begins to type on it.

“I think Master Bruce should go alone,” Alfred says, making all of them look at the butler. “This is a very delicate situation and if the entire family goes, it could make things worse. For now, allow your father to speak to your brother by himself.

The pained looks on his boys’ faces makes him feel even worse than he already does. He knows that they want to make up for how they treated you just like him, but right now, he’s not even sure how you’ll react seeing him, let alone the entire family.

He’ll do whatever it takes to bring you home so they can show you the love you deserved back then. And then, they’ll all be one happy family.

“Thanks, Alfred,” he says as he carefully tucks the ticket into his coat, treating it like a precious artifact and not a flimsy piece of paper. “I have to get ready.”

As he leaves, he makes a note to give the butler a pay rise. Not just for giving him the ticket meant for him, but for helping him realize his mistake and for being there for his son.

As he heads to his room to pack a bag, he makes arrangements to stay at a penthouse as the hotel connected to the convention center so he can get there quickly and hopefully get to talk to you before the award ceremony. He also purchases your game in order to have something to talk to you about, hoping you’ll be touched by him supporting your career as a developer (he’ll also carefully analyze the game to high heaven in hopes of learning more about you) and starts drafting plans for Alfred to prepare your new room, allowing the butler to buy anything and everything he thinks you’d like, from furniture to decorations.

He briefly thinks about calling Clark and asking him to monitor the convention hall for any trouble from Lex, but quickly decides against it. Y/N is his son and he’ll protect him with his own hands, not relying on the Kryptonian. If Lex tries any shit during the ceremony, he’ll pull every underhanded trick in the book to buy out Lex Corp only to raze it to the ground and salt the earth where it once stood.

Whatever it takes, he’ll see you accept the trophy you so rightly deserve and after that, he’ll talk to you fact to face and beg you to forgive him, take you into his arms and apologize for not being the father you needed him to be. And after that, he’ll bring you back to the manor, where you’ll stay in a room next to his, where him and your siblings will keep you company from day in to day out. And when he brings you home, he’ll commission another family portrait that’s large enough to take up an entire wall and has you in the center with all of them surrounding you.

At last, they’ll be the family you deserve. The family you should’ve had when you became a part of their family.

Tag List: @space1crow @bat1212 @minkyungseokie @nosyrobin @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick @hellcatsworld @prettyboys247 @marsmabe @paolexsstuff @c0l1fl0r @starryperson @kore-of-the-underworld @kiarst @vanessa-boo @moxiemy @greatwhisperspaper @tatsuri-zomushiki @starsdotalk @luna57765 @jsprien213 @lizz-lrm @chericia @lunaluz432 @orbitingtraveler @roseytheteacup @bellethesleepypotato @exactlynumberonekryptonite @fantasyhopperhea @bronanitf @ellaprime7 @justwannabecat @ratchetprime211 @bunbunbread

[muchosbesitos]

YOU CAN’T RUN BUT YOU CAN (S)CREAM

innocent trip to a cabin in the woods with your friends. what could go wrong?

pairing: slashers! geto suguru & gojo satoru x fem reader

contents: horror au (non canon compliant), tongue piercing geto, dubcon (?), use of knives, blood play, unprotected p in v, spanking, nipple play, anal play (fingering and ass eating), fingering, oral (f & m receiving), face fucking, cum eating, and pet names (sweet cheeks, pretty, etc.)

author’s note: happy october :p

word count: 6.5k

This truly was something out of a cliché horror movie.

Missing poster after missing poster of people who stirred the nation in the past thirty years hung on every tree bark that the group van passed by, crows circled around the questionable looking cabin that you'd rented for the week (at a decent price, so you supposed you couldn't complain much), and rumors of two slashers followed you since you'd stepped foot into town. Gas clerks giving you puzzled looks when you mentioned your destination, wishing you the best of luck.

You were almost sure that you'd heard one of them whispering a quiet prayer after the five of you left the store, clutching a rosary in between their fingers.

The camp counselor that looked like they wanted to be anywhere but here, somehow seeming to have a stable connection despite the fact you couldn't get any more than one bar. "So, these are the bathrooms. Wouldn't recommend using them since they haven't been cleaned in like the past decade," they didn't even bother to look from their phone, smacking loudly on a piece of gum. This tour was really making you wish you hadn't cheaped out on the cabin.

"And finally, here we have the beds. They probably have fleas on there so just watch out," the camp counselor finally looked up from their phone to face you all. "And what about the rumors that are floating around about the two killers?" One of your friends asked behind you, forming a distance between themselves and the unsteady looking beds. "Probably just rumors. Dunno, don't really stick around after I collect my check."

And you already knew that they didn't exactly care about being reassuring, your suspicions only confirmed by the next words that came out of their mouth, "But just in case, you guys should probably get your affairs in order when you get a stable connection though."

The five of you were left alone to your own devices—having a compass (that you weren't even completely sure still worked properly) and a map hung up on a bulletin board outside the cabin, the edges fraying and the paper seeming like it was just one rain drop from falling apart. "Maybe we should go exploring in case that there is a killer roaming around. Get to know our surroundings," you suggested, hoping that it'd ease the already tense mood.

"And what if the killer's roaming around right now just waiting for the perfect opportunity?" One of your friend's boyfriends, one whose name you didn't really particularly to memorize, was the first one to respond. Like you were the one being stupid in this situation. You decided to bite back your tongue, looking over at the rest of your friends, "Anyone else want to go?"

You ended up going on your little exploration of the woods alone.

What you assumed was supposed to be a pond, only the hole remaining after the water all but evaporated, remained outside of the house. The stench of dead fish welcomed you when you took a couple steps closer to it, a few traces of dried blood on the sides. Probably just animal blood. Or at least, all you could do was hope that it was just animal blood. You continued walking through the rocky trail that the map indicated, spotting a couple of the landmarks highlighted.

While you walked, you couldn't help but feel as if something was lurking behind you. As if something was keeping eyes on every movement that you were making. But every time that you turned around, the most that you'd see would be a squirrel running through a patch of grass. "Hello?" You called out, your voice echoing through the leaves. Disappearing into nothing. And despite receiving no response, that uneasy feeling inside you refused to simmer.

You followed the map for a while—nothing that was really worth writing home about. Maybe the rumors had just been to attract more attention? Because it truly did look like just a basic campground.

A public bathroom that you could practically see the green fumes coming out of, dead flies scattered across the floor from the stench. A well that met the same fate as the pond, a small pool of water at the bottom. The only thing that seemed to be of aid if the rumors did turn out to be true was the camp counselor's cabin, the building in slightly better shape than the other one. A landline phone hung off the wall, though upon further inspection, it really only served as decoration.

A good enough hiding spot if needed, though.

You decided to go back to the cabin before the sun went down, since you were vastly unprepared when you'd made the decision to come out here. Your mosquito bitten legs being the stellar witnesses to that. A fire crackled in between of three logs set up, marshmallows and chocolate set on the side while some of your friends went out to gather a couple sticks. "Hey, I'm really sorry about the way that Logan acted earlier, he's just being a dick." So that was his name.

"You don't have to apologize, don't worry," you shrugged her off, getting the graham crackers that you'd packed in your bag beforehand. The man in question brought out a cooler of beer, and if you had to guess, he probably put more effort into packing that than his actual clothes. Bottle after bottle of vodka, tequila, and cheap beer stuck out from the sides once he'd set it down. And you hadn't seen him change out of the sweat stained shirt he had on just yet.

That effectively marked the end of that conversation, the rest getting distracted with getting a drink off the cooler. "You don't wanna get one?" You heard from behind you, their voice already starting to sound the slightest bit slurred. In less of a span than five minutes. "No thanks," you assured, sticking with just the s'more you had at the end of a stick. Last thing you needed to be was uncoordinated if you needed to run. Just in case.

They didn't seem to mind it too much either, shrugging it off and muttering, "More for us, then." Conversation flowed easily between the group, ghost stories being shared just for the sake of it with loud laughter bustling from drunken antics. "Apparently they're supposed to take virgins as a sacrifice or something," Logan blurted out, slapping a hand over his knee as if it were the funniest thing he could've said.

"No way, man. I heard that they're the ghosts of these two kids that drowned in the river down the path." Conversation and drinks kept flowing much after the sun went down, with only crickets chirping around. Begrudgingly, the group managed to make inside after a while and got out a couple sleeping bags to place on the floor. Last thing any of you all needed was to have to endure this trip out with fleas.

Loud scraping on the side of the wood woke you up from your slumber, wind whistling almost furiously. Almost as if a knife were being dragged across the surface. Your friends were already sitting up when you got up from your spot, their bodies seeming too tense for it to just be an innocent prank. "Maybe it's just the wind," you tried to rationalize this just to being paranoid, but even you couldn't lie about the two shadows that appeared on the side of the window.

"If the wind wanted to kill us," one of your friends muttered from underneath the comfort of her pink heart covered blanket.

"Since you went on that little trip earlier, tell us where to go," The same man that had treated you like you were stupid before now sounded like he was on the verge of peeing his pants, his voice raising up to almost a squeak. The group's movements were slow, the alcohol having taken a toll on them pretty quickly. "We're supposed to run this w—" and before you even had the chance to finish, the four of them took off running.

And every rule that had been memorized during horror movie nights was completely discarded in a moment of panic, the group splitting up almost immediately. You took off running where you could see the faint outline of a path, your footsteps pounding into the ground with every rushed step that you made. You were running off pure adrenaline, the burning sensation in your chest after running for what seemed to be an eternity almost didn't seem too bad. Just keep running.

Every breath that you took almost seemed to be too loud, your chest heaving with every sharp intake you took. Clasping a hand over your mouth, you took the opportunity to gauge your surroundings. You could barely see past a couple feet, most of the trees just blending together in the far distance. You figured that maybe you'd be in the clear for a couple more minutes before you had to find another spot. Get the ache in your legs to go down enough for you to keep running.

Or at least that's what you originally figured.

Until you heard the crunching of leaves echoing all too close, the whistling of a familiar tune you just couldn't put your finger on (not while you were too busy trying not to die, anyways). "Don't even bother running now, it's just gonna make our job harder," the voice came from somewhere way too close, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling up. He almost sounded like you were the one inconveniencing them by thinking about running.

Your heart pounded beneath your chest with every bated breath you took, your own traitorous lungs betraying you with every noise they had you make. Every step that you took almost seemed to be too slow, every ache in your muscles holding you back. "You can't get that far, y'know," a separate voice echoed through the depth of the woods, only confirming the rumors that it was two killers. "Just trip over thin air already," the other whined, the sound of the knife scraping on the ground following.

You willed yourself to keep running—even if you weren't too completely sure where you'd go if you did manage to escape. The nearest town that you'd seen on the way down here was close to two hours ago, you were bound to be dead meat by the time you got there. You shook off those thoughts, trying to keep yourself from making too much noise while you ran. And you'd almost succeeded until you bumped into something firm. You almost didn't bring yourself to look up, not wanting to face the possibility that it wasn't a tree.

"Please be a wall or something," you muttered to yourself, your eyes flicking open to see what exactly you'd bumped into.

You were met with a masked figure in front of you, a cheap hockey mask with dried blood clinging onto the sides. "Not a wall, sorry to disappoint. Just got yourself all sweaty after I told you not to run, sweets," he clicked his tongue, shaking his head in faux disappointment. Teasing you even further.

Another masked figure came into your line of vision, each one carrying a knife with blood dripping down to taint the forest leaves below. And every muscle in your body was begging you to move—to continue to keep moving, but you couldn't bring yourself to get unstuck from the position you were. The lankier one of the two approached your left, hooking your chin up with his knife. "Don't get mad at her too much. She was better fun than the guy who just fainted."

No ghosts or virgin sacrifices so far it seemed, at the very least.

"Much prettier too," you weren't even aware when tears started to roll down your cheeks, only becoming aware of them when the other guy approached your right. Using a gloved finger to swipe underneath your eyes, barely pushing the mask up to reveal his mouth. A silver tongue piercing illuminated by the pale moonlight flickered out when he went to lick it away, shamelessly tasting your salty tears. Seemingly reveling in how scared shitless you were.

"Those friends of yours gave away your location pretty quickly. Something something, kill you instead of kill them. You might have to consider who you get as friends, sweet cheeks," the knife was pressed deeper into the column of your throat as he spoke, the motion almost seeming way too gentle for a man threatening your life. That was until you felt a sting a couple seconds later, drops of blood dripping onto the collar of your shirt.

The man on your left pulled his mask up in a similar fashion as the other one, barely exposing his lips before he leaned in against your neck. You didn't even get a chance to react before his tongue darted out, licking a stripe up your throat and cleaning up the blood in return. "We can be your new friends, sweetheart. You're not half bad after all," he licked the remaining blood off his lips, toying with you all the much more than the other one.

"Not really looking for new friends," you uttered, the sting from the cut almost combining with some sort of sick pleasure? Maybe the adrenaline was starting to get to your head, because there was no way that you almost started to enjoy it. These men were still trying to kill you. The words reverberated through your head like a mantra, willing for them to stick long enough that you'd get away. Kick them, run away, do something. Anything.

And you could've sworn all the blood in your body went cold, your eyes widening to the size of saucers when you felt the cold edge of a knife digging into the side of your arm. "That's if she manages to escape," the other drawled, pressing the knife just hard enough for it to leave an indent. "I doubt it though, Satoru. She's run all out of adrenaline."

"Please," you weren't even sure what you were begging for at this point, if you were asking them to take it easy on you or if you were asking for them to let you go. Probably the latter if you were in a better condition. "Shh shh, me and Suguru are gonna take care of you. Just let us play for a while first," Satoru whispered, running a finger through the cut that he'd made. Wiping away the excess blood dripping down, sticking his finger in his mouth.

And it was almost sinful how pretty the man looked despite the circumstance, a light flush on his cheeks when he pulled the mask up just to expose his face. His shirt pulled up enough to show sweat covered abs, a white happy trail leading down to his pants. "Don't tell me you liked me better with the mask on," he almost seemed to pout as he spoke, cupping your cheeks between his hand. And from here, you could practically feel just how long they were.

Before you let your mind wander into more shameless places, you frantically shook your head. "No, no, you look fine, I swear," you let out a nervous laugh, trying to avoid having your voice shake too much. "You don't gotta lie to him, pretty girl," his partner, Suguru, brought your attention back over to him, taking off his mask as well. And the predicament you found yourself in suddenly seemed all that much unfair.

A little voice in the back of your head kept reminding you that the two of them were psychopaths who were just running after you with a knife a couple moments ago, but it was quickly pushed over by just how attractive the two of them were. The white haired man's partner was just as handsome as he was, long black hair cascading past his shoulders. The two of them contrasting each other almost to perfection.

You were broken out of your stupor when Satoru (if that was even his name) grabbed your chin, letting out a laugh as he analyzed your expression. "Nah, she's not lying. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she was turned on," he noted with a laugh, his fingers moving down to the front buttons of your shorts. "You don't mind if I test his theory, do you?" Geto didn't wait for a response before unbuttoning your shorts in a haste, dipping his fingers into your cunt.

And the traitorous squelch your cunt gave out when he dipped his fingers inside you spoke more than you could. Suguru brought his finger to his lips, wrapping them around them as he seemed to savor the taste of you. "Don't hog her, asshole," Satoru muttered next to you, walking over to where Suguru was standing. The white haired man tangled one hand around the other's hair, coaxing him to part his lips. The two of them exchanged a needy kiss in front of you without second thought.

Which would've been the perfect opportunity for you to run. If you weren't frozen to your spot as the two of them intertwined tongues, their kiss almost seeming more spit and teeth than an actual kiss. A string of saliva connected the two of them when they pulled away, a pink flush to each of their cheeks. A little more prominent on Satoru, though. "Taste so sweet," Satoru murmured, facing you with his hands on your hips. The knife seeking to have been discarded.

Suguru moved to stand behind you, leaving you sandwiched between the two men. "You want us to take care of you?" Suguru questioned, moving to the side of your neck. Licking up the column of your throat in a similar fashion that Satoru had done, nibbling down on your pulse point. Leaving you marked in more ways than just the cut from before. You nodded, your back almost arching into his touch. A light shudder ran down your spine when you felt Satoru's hands on your breasts, circling your nipples.

Except you weren't shivering out of fear this time around, but rather out of sheer arousal. Your perked up nipples and the wet patch on your panties only serving to prove that further. "Come on, I wanna hear you say it," Satoru flicked both your nipples between his pointer and thumb, his touch making you arch further into Suguru. "Please. Need you to take care of me," you breathed out, your body almost falling lax underneath their touch.

"Need, huh?" Satoru had a cocky grin on his face, pulling your shirt up and over your arms. "Yes, need," you reiterated, your hand immediately going to his fluffy white hair when he leaned in to press open mouthed kisses to your collarbones. You could feel Suguru's cock straining in his pants behind you, the tip of it rubbing against the back of your shorts with every movement of his hips. "Even said please and everything," Suguru sounded just as breathless as you, if not even more.

Satoru's tongue swirled across your left nipple, his fingers rolling the other one in sync. All the while he kept looking up at you, cerulean eyes almost seeming to glisten under the moon as he did. Your eyes closed in bliss, your hand pushing Satoru's head even further into your breasts. Needing everything that he was able to give. Euphoria quickly took place in exchange for the fear that coursed your body earlier.

Suguru's hand trailed down your stomach down to the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down just enough for your panties to be exposed. A light breeze hit your cunt when he swiftly pushed them aside with two fingers, dipping one inside of you. Your slick coating his fingertip, glistening under the light when he pulled it away from you. Your breathing grew heavier, your chest heaving for completely different reasons. All the aches in your body had almost seemed to go away.

Though you were pretty sure they'd come back by the two of them were finished with you, if the feeling of Suguru's cock behind you was anything to go by. Satoru pulled away, leaving your breasts with teeth indents and your nipples covered in his spit. "So pretty," Satoru noted before slipping your shorts down, letting them fall down to the dirty floor below. You made no move to move when they pooled around your ankles, Satoru already moving to take your panties off.

"Let me taste her first," Satoru spoke up before Suguru could, licking his lips as if he were about to taste a delicacy. Suguru didn't make any noise of protest, simply shifting to take Satoru's earlier position. The white haired man placed his hands on your thighs, forcing you into a half bent position before spreading your legs apart. "Oh fuck," a low curse escaped your throat, Satoru's tongue wasting no time in licking your folds.

You pushed your hips to meet his tongue, Satoru's tongue darting inside of you. His mouth making out with your dripping cunt like it was something that he was made to do. You weren't even sure which of the two you was being louder, moans escaping the two of you. Suguru placed his hand on your chin, pulling your attention back to him. His cock stood in front of you, your eyes almost widening at the size. It wasn't too big, but the girth.

"Not the scariest thing you've seen tonight," Suguru snorted from above, the tip of his cock rubbing against your lips. Precum coating your bitten lips like a lip gloss. You opened your mouth, taking the tip inside your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive skin, licking down to his frenulum. "Fuck, Satoru," you words came out muffled, his tongue flicking at your sensitive clit. His tongue swirling around the nerves with no particular pattern.

You let spit dribble down Suguru's cock to make this all the much easier to you, looking up to see him already staring at you. He placed his hands on your cheeks, catching you off guard when he thrusted in your mouth. "Don't bite it off," he warned, his thrusts starting off slow to get adjusted to it. To get you adjusted to simply being a hole for him to fuck. Your cheeks hollowed out in an attempt to fit more of him inside with ease, each thrust having his cock further down your throat.

A thick finger circled around the tight rim of your asshole, the gloves from earlier quickly discarded of. "Sucking me in so good," Satoru let out a groan behind you, slowly pushing a finger inside of your ass. Whether the tears prickling in your waterline were from how Suguru was using you as his fleshlight or from the sudden stretch, you weren't completely sure. "S-So tight, fuck," and the man behind you almost sounded entranced, starting to pump his finger into your asshole.

"That's it, there you go, good," murmured praises behind you completely contrasted the harsh thrusts that the man in front of you was giving, his cock nearly touching the back of your throat. His heavy balls slapping against your chin when he pushed it to the hilt. "Taking us so well, this what you wanted?" Suguru questioned, looking down at you. And you just nodded, not completely sure if he did want an answer. And that only made him laugh.

"So sweet, so good," And just from a couple minutes of having his nose deep into your cunt, Satoru already sounded drunk off your pussy. The rhythm of the fingers inside your ass fell out of sync, your hole being stretched out more than you planned for this trip to this cabin (which admittedly, had been not at all). Satoru switched the two, his tongue flicking inside your puckered hole while two fingers pushed inside of your cunt with ease.

Satoru's fingers curled to hit your g-spot every time he pushed them inside, his long fingers reaching spots only your toy back home had done. His tongue flicked around the rim of your ass before he spat a thick glob of spit inside of you, vibrations shooting up your spine with every moan that he let out. Which turned into a chain reaction of sorts—the sensation of those vibrations having you moaning against Suguru's cock.

Suguru's thrusts got faster, the tip of his cock pushing against the back of your throat. Almost hitting your uvula with ease. And in comparison to his sharp thrusts, he reached down with one hand to wipe your tears away. Sucking them away like he did earlier, the gesture almost too tender for the way he was making you take his cock. "Taking us both so well, practically made for it," he cooed, your tongue running down the underside of his cock.

With one final flick of his tongue, Satoru pulled away from your ass. You didn't even have to look behind you to know he was cleaning your slick off his fingers before he delved back in, his nose prodding against your cunt when his mouth latched onto your clit. Rolling his tongue along the hood, his fingers spreading your walls open with ease. Especially when he added one more, the slight sting in between your legs slowly started to become pleasurable.

You rocked yourself back to meet Satoru's tongue, your nails almost digging into Suguru's thighs to maintain your position. And if you didn't know any better, you'd almost say that Suguru was enjoying the small sting—his thrusts starting to get sloppier. "Don't stop, don't stop," muffled whines escaped from your lips, vibrations shooting up the other's cock in the process. Your hand went down to Suguru's balls, rubbing the sensitive skin with your fingertips.

And that was enough to send him over the edge—a loud groan escaping from his lips. "Gonna make me cum," he uttered as a warning, pulling his cock out of your mouth before he had a chance to. Changes were he didn't want to blow his load just yet. Suguru let you maintain yourself up by holding onto him, your hands starting to shake as you got closer to your orgasm. "There you go, take it princess."

"Mhm, yeah, almost there," you moaned out as a response, your eyes rolling back the more desperate that Satoru's flicks got. Like he needed you to cum for his sake more than yours. "Yeah? Satoru's gonna take care of you, just gotta let go," his fingers stroked your cheek with such a tenderness, almost like the fact he didn't want to kill you a mere moments earlier didn't exist. A fact that you yourself had forgotten, the only thing running through your head being how much you needed to cum.

Every flick of Satoru's tongue had you dripping onto his mouth, your walls clenching around nothing. Every sweet word that Suguru whispered to you making you get all the much closer. "Right there, right there, please," your voice came out hoarse, your hands balling into fists against Suguru's thighs. "Ah ah, fuc-" You were only able to get fragments out, unsure of what you were even trying to say. And even then, the two of them seemed to have an understanding.

All decorum that Satoru seemed to show earlier quickly flew out the window—too enamored with the taste of your cunt. He spat into it with a fervor, savoring the taste of you like one would their favorite candy. "Gonna cum," you managed to get out before your jaw fell slack. "There you go, that's it, take it," Even if the sweetness Suguru was giving you might've been fake, that combined with Satoru's fervent fingers and tongue had you reaching your orgasm with ease.

Soundless moans came out of you, your pussy doing most of the noise for you anyways. You came in a manner of a couple seconds, your release dripping onto Satoru's expectant tongue. And it was almost like he hadn't realized it just yet, continuing to push his tongue inside of you with a needy fervor. "Shit, too sensitive," you let out a whine and that pushed him out of his stupor, his hands letting go of your thighs. Albeit reluctantly.

You looked over at Satoru through a dazed expression, your slick glistening around his mouth like a trophy. He only licked his mouth clean, wiping the rest off with the back of his hand. The two of them switched positions, Satoru's cock standing erect in front of you. It was slightly longer than Suguru's, albeit not as thick, but just as pretty if you had to say. His angry mushroom tip leaked drops of precum, practically twitching in anticipation.

You swirled your tongue around the tip, looking up at Satoru as you did so. Watching him already start to unravel from just the simplest bits of stimulation. All the while, Suguru dragged the tip of his cock along your folds, coating it with a mixture of your slick and Satoru's saliva. A muffled moan escaped from your lips when Suguru stretched you open, none of the prep that Satoru had done earlier proving to be effective.

"Fuck, tight, so tight," Suguru let out labored breaths, pushing his cock deeper inside of you. Up until the point where his balls were hitting your ass. His hands gripped your hips, your own gripping onto Satoru's to maintain whatever semblance of balance you had left. The man above you was quickly turning into a mess, as much as he tried to hide it. "Take it, just like that, f-fuckkk," loud groans escaped from his throat, his head thrown back.

Your tongue ran across the veins running on the sides of his cock, your hand pumping his shaft at an unsteady rhythm. You took Satoru's cock in your mouth, bobbing your head to what you could reach. Your hand making up for what you couldn't, the two almost working in tandem. Spit dribbled from the corners of your mouth, some of it mixing with the drops of precum. With every push of Suguru's hips, you were only pushed deeper into Satoru's cock.

Satoru placed a hand on your cheek, keeping you in place as you slowly began to bob your head to take him even further. Not that you managed to take much of him in, the man too big for you to take all his cock in your mouth. Your hand wrapped around what you couldn't reach, jerking him at the same time the tip reached the back of your throat. "S-So good, taking me so well," and his voice came out in almost a desperate whine, none of the teasing from earlier showing.

If you had to guess, he was probably needier than you were in the moment. Your tongue ran alongside the underside of his cock, licking along his frenulum and swirling around his dripping tip. His hips moved to meet the movement of your hand, his thrusts slower than Suguru had done earlier. Satoru didn't complain when your nails dug further into his thigh, almost seeming to enjoy it. The two of them had a thing for pain, from what you could tell.

"Just a masochist, hm?" You quipped, taking advantage of the fact that he was much too stimulated to give you a teasing remark in response. A moan escaped from your lips when you felt a sharp sting to your ass, the flesh jiggling from the smack that Suguru delivered. "Be nice, you're not exactly in a position to be making little quips," he warned, though his voice didn't hold much bite to it. His thrusts got deeper, your walls stretching to fit his girth.

"Y-Yeah, be nice," Satoru tried to add onto Suguru's words, but all he managed to do was let out another whine. If the other didn't sound intimidating, Satoru just sounded downright pathetic. Your hand went down to his balls, holding his sac in your palm, grasping it gently. Satoru's mouth immediately opened, his eyes closing in pure bliss with needy whines slipping out like water.

Suguru was much quieter than Satoru, though a low moan escaped through his lips on occasion. When he figured no one was listening. His thrusts were almost punishing, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot every time that he thrusted into you. "Oh fuck!" A loud needy moan escaped from your lips—the very same thing you were making fun of Satoru of, when you felt his fingers go down to your clit. Rubbing against the nerve with just enough force for it to be pleasurable, rather than just overstimulating.

Your walls clenched around Suguru's cock, practically milking him for everything that he had to give. "Ah! Ah! Don't stop, Suguru! S-So good," you whined out, vibrations shooting up Satoru's spine in the process. "D-Don't. Tell. Me How. To. Fuck. You," each word was punctuated with a thrust of his hips, "Fucking brat." And despite his words, you couldn't help the way your slick coated his shaft with every movement of your hips.

You felt it dripping down your thighs, the ground beneath you a mixture of fluids and blood. "Don't forget about me," Satoru let out a whine, your head bobbing to take his shaft deeper than you'd taken him before. "You make it hard to forget when you're so needy," your muttered words turned into a moan, at another smack to your other cheek in return. "S-Said be nice to him," Suguru tried to sound imposing, but the way his voice cracked gave him away almost immediately.

"You're just as much of a masochist as he is, letting two psycho killers fuck you like this," he added, the loud slapping of skin against skin only proving his point. You spat against Satoru's shaft, your chin and mouth covered in a mixture of both of their precum and your spit. Your hand continued to roll his balls the way one would marbles, your thumb running across the sensitive skin. "'M sensitive there, not too much," Satoru moaned out, but the way his hips jerked to meet the movement of your tongue betrayed him.

The two of you were more similar than you would've originally thought, really.

Satoru was the first one out of the three of you to cum, his chest heaving and his abs tensing up when he felt himself getting closer. "I'm close, so so close," and you guessed that his words were supposed to serve as a warning, but you made no move to take your mouth off him. "Fuckk, take it. Just like that," he cooed, his mouth open in an o-shape. Watery spurts of cum shot onto your mouth in a manner of seconds, the taste of him pretty neutral. Better than battery acid cum, you supposed.

Your walls clenched around Suguru's cock, leaving him with little space to move. Your grip was like a vice, milking him the closer you got to your own orgasm. Your nails dug into Satoru's thighs in front of you, crescent indents marking his pale thighs almost instantly. "So tight, you gonna cum?" Suguru maintained the same rhythm to his ability, his fingers rubbing at your clit in the same manner as before. "Y-Yeah, please lemme cum, please, please," your moans came out more and more incoherent.

"Not sayin' no, take it when you're ready," and with one final thrust of hips, your orgasm pooled out of you to form a creamy ring around the base of his shaft. You eased the grip that you had on Satoru's thighs, looking up to see him still coming down from his own orgasm. Suguru's thrusts only got sloppier the closer that he got to his own, his balls slapping against your ass in his fervor to cum. And if he had any intention to pull out, the way your cunt clenched around him would've made that all the more impossible.

"Shit, shit, gonna cum," Suguru, who seemed to have more composure than his partner, groaned out as he reached his own orgasm. Spurts of cum shot inside of your cunt, your walls clenching rhythmically against his shaft. Even if you couldn't see him from where you were standing—you didn't need to just to know that his load was much bigger than Satoru's. His orgasm lasted much longer, leaving the man behind you spent. A couple seconds passed by before he pulled his softening shaft out of your cunt.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," your moans echoed across the forest, your hands resting against the cabin walls next to you. The two of them didn't seem fazed by the fact they were licking Suguru's cum off your cunt, if anything, you'd say that Satoru seemed to enjoy it a bit too much. "So good," he moaned against your cunt, his tongue flicking against Suguru's when he pushed inside of you. You turned your head to look over at the two of them, the two of them exchanging the combined taste of you and Suguru in a needy kiss.

"Goddamn greedy," you heard Suguru mutter from his side when he'd pulled away, the silver piercing that you'd felt earlier flicking against your clit. Once the two of them had deemed that you were cleaned up enough, they stood up from where they crouched behind you. Satoru dangling your shorts in his hand, taking advantage of your slowed movements to dangle them even higher just when you were about to reach them.

"Come on, we'll give you a five minute head start. If you can stand properly, that is," Satoru spoke up once he'd pulled his pants up, zipping them back up. And as much as you wanted to take advantage of it, you could hardly move a limb without it shaking like a leaf. "Look at her. Think we'll have be nicer than that, maybe ten minutes," Suguru let out a laugh as he zipped himself up as well, wrapping an hand around your arm to help you stand up properly.

It was only then when the sound of a bell echoed throughout the space, bright lights shining above the three of you. Bringing you back to the fact that this was just another cliché horror movie. "Alright, cut. Let's take fifteen before we start on the next scene," you could barely make out the shape of the director as he spoke through the megaphone, the lights above blinding everything that wasn't in close proximity.

What you'd mistaken as the taste of iron had been the stench of corn syrup and ketchup filling your senses, Suguru and Satoru completely covered in fake blood. The two of them waited until no one was facing the stage, Satoru hooking his fingers around your belt loops from behind. "Those moans of yours didn't sound too realistic. Good thing we're very willing to help," Suguru whispered in your ear, your slick coated panties hanging in between his fingers.

"We'll even keep the masks on this time if you're into that."

All you could hope for was that the rest of your cast members would think you were screaming and not creaming. Again.

[raitonsfw]

𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 | 𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚙𝚘 ꨄ

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Ranpo wasn’t supposed to raid the ADA’s lockers for snacks, but he does anyway. When he opens your locker and spots an enclosed box of Valentine's Day chocolate, he immediately snatched it. Of course, why would he bother to read the ingredients? Cocoa butter, milk, sugar, an aphrodisiac supplement... What could go wrong? Obviously everything; you didn’t know Ranpo was such a whiny bitch when he was horny.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, horny!ranpo, slight switch!ranpo (subby then dom), accidental aphrodisiac/drug usage, banter, begging, whining & whimpering, humiliation (ranpo has to ask reader to help him), masturbation, blowjob, ranpo’s a fucking head pusher, teasing, fingering (if you squint), implied sexual intercourse, pet names (good girl), he’s like a dog in heat frfr (or rut, whatever floats your boat), ranpo’s a bit manipulative at the very end, reader works at the ADA, reader has a crush on ranpo & kinda simps for him silently, dazai mention (typical suicide mention & he’s the idiot that started this shit lol)

a/n: hello helloo, my queue posted early but imma keep it up anyways. my lil valentine’s day event starts now (albeit early), with ranpo edogawa leading it with some sexy v-day drug consumption! my first valentine to you until thursday, feb 1st! 💌 wc: 3k. v-day m.list | m.list

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

“Ranpo, what are you eating?” This was a common phrase that the Armed Detective Agency yelled, much like when you yell at a puppy when they have something in their mouth that they’re not supposed to have. Ranpo’s cheeks poked out slightly as he turned towards you, his head tilting in confusion. He was sitting on top of one of the desks, lounging about like normal but with something noticeably different in his hands; instead of the usual candy he munched on, it was a tiny red hearted box of… chocolate?

You had already started walking towards him with a bit of a rush calculated into your step, eyeing the familiar box of chocolates that were abandoned now on his lap as he leaned back. He popped another piece of chocolate into his mouth as you recognized the wretched package. He had stolen your aphrodisiac chocolate Dazai had jokingly gifted you for Valentine’s Day. “Ranpo!”

“What? You shouldn’t leave chocolate lying around when I’m here.” He said in a matter of factly tone, reaching for another one. You grabbed his wrist quickly to prevent him from eating another, throwing the near empty box in the trash. “What’d you do that for?!”

“Ranpo, those weren’t yours! And they weren’t lying around, they were in my locker!” You pulled him off of the desk by his hand and he stumbled into you slightly as he gained his footing on the floor. “You didn’t even look at the ingredients.”

“You didn’t have to trash ‘em!” He pouted at you, looking back at the trash can with an overexaggerated whine. “Why would I have to look at the ingredients? It’s chocolate.” 

“Because– they were drugged.” You barged into the restroom with him, making sure it was unoccupied. You left him in the middle to wander and he immediately took a seat on the long counter adorned with sinks. The lengthy mirror stared towards the back of him and you could see out of the corner of your eye that he was swinging his feet as you locked the door. 

“Drugged? Drugged with what?” Ranpo asked, a bit too calm. It’s like this has happened and he’s not very surprised. You’ll ask about that later, right now your main priority was getting him water and a nice place to sweat it out for the next few hours– or day considering he ate almost the entire box.

“Aphrodisiacs.” 

“Isn’t that the drug that like… stimulates you?” Ranpo interrupted your thoughts, stretching his arms out with a yawn. How was this man tired in such a constrained situation? “I don’t feel anything.” 

Maybe you should go back and read the amount that’s housed in each chocolate, you could figure out the percentage exactly and then you'd be able to gauge just how much time he would need alone. If you could get him out of the door towards his dorm, of course; that was another issue as you don’t know how fast he consumed the hearts.

“Oh trust me, you will.” You huffed out, mentally checking off everything you needed to do in order to get him out of the office. You needed to collect your paperwork so you could do it while making sure Ranpo didn’t keel over from the dosage and acquire a water bottle in case it's too late to get him to the dorms. “I’m going to get you water, stay right here okay?” 

“Sure, bring me some more snacks while you’re at it.” He leaned back against the mirror with his hands tucked behind his head, crossing his leg over the other with a sly wink at you; perhaps the only time you’d see his green eyes bright before they darkened like a storm. “Don’t keep me waiting long.” 

Fucking idiot.

As you scampered about trying to find a water bottle for Ranpo, you gathered up your belongings and wrapped your head around the situation. You were going to thoroughly kill Dazai if he hasn’t done so already himself, the thought of poisoning your coworker with a shit ton of sexual stimulants weighing heavily on your mind. You knew Ranpo most likely wouldn’t care who you got it from or why you even had it, he would probably brush it off as some weird shit you’re into. Realization suddenly hit you like a million bricks; you didn’t know him sexually, so you had no idea how exactly the aphrodisiacs would affect him.

You were close with Ranpo, but not on this level. 

You also had a slight crush on him ever since you started working with him; he had bothered you for treats on the very first day as you sat down in your office chair. You haven’t even had the chance to set up your desk, trinkets filling the box in your arms as he wheeled over in his chair to you. You liked his personality and gave him a small piece of candy you had stashed in your pocket, which was the worst mistake of your life because now he toyed with you every chance he got; whether you had snacks, candy, or a sweet drink in your hand, it was a ‘can i have some?’ 

“Ranpo?” You knocked on the bathroom door as you returned from the depths of the office, relieved to hear quiet shuffling about the tiny room.

Your relief turned to dread though when you heard his voice answer you back in a tiny whimper. “D-Don’t come in.” 

Oh, you were too late…

“I have water for you.” You said through the door, trying to bask around the uncomfortable situation that’s handed itself to you. Of course it would hit him while you were trying to find things that could help him get through it; why couldn’t the drug have waited a few more minutes?

Ranpo didn’t answer and your mind wandered, what if that dosage was lethal? Dazai would have yet another crime on his fruitful list that he so explicitly told you about, but now you’re an accomplice because the twisted chocolates were in your fucking locker. You tried to open the door, but he had locked it behind you when you had left. You could hear faint breathing on the other side, but it was too hard to make out if he was saying anything. 

“Y/N…” Ranpo managed to speak up after a few moments, quiet desperation overtaking his voice. “Why’d you have that type of chocolate in your locker anyway?” 

Oh, so he does care. It must be serious then. You hung your head against the door, a quiet sigh escaping your lips as you contemplated whether to tell him why or not. 

“Here, let me in. I can help.” You offered, gathering up the things in your hands a bit more neatly as you tried to get him to open the door. You didn’t have a choice but to stay there with him and your paperwork was sitting stale in your hands, the time ticking away and your deadlines getting closer.

“Help with what? I-I got it under control.” Ranpo stammered at the idea and you realize it sounded like you meant something else.

“Not that. I have snacks, you idiot.” 

He opened the door a few seconds after, his cape had been pulled around him towards the front of his lap and he briskly walked back to where he was sitting on the sink’s counter. You could already see the hardened bulge of his cock within the mess of the fabric that covered it and his face had become increasingly red with a blush you’ve never seen on him before. His legs were pried open on the counter and he looked so so desperate, even as he tried not to show it, he failed miserably through the small pants that huffed out of him through every syllable he managed out.

You set the snacks near him on the counter, taking in the sight of his flushed skin peeking out from underneath his clothing. He glanced towards you and your eyes immediately met the mirror in front of you, a blush creeping up on your own face. “Do you want me to stay here with you?” 

“C-Can you sit outside the door and make sure no one comes in?” Ranpo stuttered, looking away from you as he squirmed against the counter. You felt the sudden rush of heat between your legs and you tried not to stumble in front of him as you walked back towards the door. God, what a dream it would be for him to ask for your help but you knew he didn’t like you like that; he would’ve shown interest by now or have been begging on his knees for you to touch him. What a sight that would’ve been…

As you sat amongst the door in the middle of the hallway, you didn’t hear him eating his snacks which was dreadfully odd. He didn’t talk to you through the door either, the man was quiet for once; not a word spoken since you left the bathroom. It must’ve hit him really hard and all you could think about is what if he actually touched himself? What if he was pumping his cock to the thought of who knows who right now, behind the thin door that separated you too? 

You so wished you could hear the potent whimpers that slipped from his mouth as he sucked his tie between his teeth, careful to not let you hear the wretched sounds. The way that his chest would rise with heavy breaths as he went ahead and pleasured himself to get rid of the ache, the strain of his cock from those damned aphrodisiacs he was so unfortunate enough to eat. You could barely sit straight, the door awfully cold against your back as the heat emanated from you, pleading for you to touch yourself with him.

You heard one of the stall doors in the bathroom slam shut or maybe open, you didn’t know but it spooked you out of the dirty thoughts that crossed your mind. Of course you would stray off track as you sat there, thinking about your coworker– your fucking coworker. Christ, get a grip.

“Please, please, please help me Y/N.” Ranpo called out and your heart skipped a beat, taking back everything you just preached to yourself. “I can’t take it anymore, I don’t know what to do.” 

“Help you? You must be out of your mind.” You mocked back, but in reality all you’ve been thinking about was that mental image engraved in your head; he must be dripping precum by now and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together to keep your slick from pooling into the middle of your panties.

“Come here, please Y/N...” He whined out, a quiet moan bouncing off the walls of the bathroom and you’ve never moved so fast in your life. It felt like you yourself had eaten one of the aphrodisiacs, how fucking needy you were for him now just because he asked for you, no– whined for you.

You opened the door, your eyes meeting the empty spot of where he was previously sitting. Then you noticed the last stall’s door open and you rounded the corner to peek inside. When you did so, you did not expect to see Ranpo fisting his cock over, his back leaning against the wall of the stall with his knees nearly buckling underneath him. 

“This is so fucking embarrassing…” Ranpo muttered out as he noticed your presence, but his hand didn’t stop pumping his cock and he let out a quiet whimper. “Y/N, help me? Shit, please–”

“Are you su–” You started to say but you were cut off by some more of his obnoxious rambling, albeit it was slightly hot as his voice knocked up a higher pitch with desperation seeping through.

“Yes, please– fuck, I just need someone to–” Ranpo gasped out, his head nearly slamming back against the wall as he bucked up into his hand. White spurts of cum painted the floor as he came (probably again), his face screwed up in pleasure with a lengthy moan. “Ah–! I need you.”

He needed you… What did you do to deserve this? Not that you were complaining, everything went according to fate in your eyes as you realized he entrusted you to take care of him during this uncomfortable situation. 

“I’m not going to get on my knees inside this tiny stall, go sit back on the counter.” You said in an even tone, trying your best to not lose your cool. You followed behind him as he hopped onto the sink, his cock still leaking with more precum as it stood proudly against the pudge of his clothed tummy.

On top of admiring that, you finally noticed his outfit; or the lack of it anyway. Ranpo’s black vest was nowhere to be seen, his light tie had come undone, and the top buttons of his white collared shirt were ripped from their threads, some hanging off loosely. He looked absolutely mangled, sweat gleaming on every inch of his skin and you knew you’d both probably never talk about this again– best to enjoy it for the time being.

“Shouldn’t have eaten those chocolates, huh?” You tutted, pushing his legs open a bit more so you fit snugly in between them. You crouched down with your knees closed, eye level with his cock and you nearly choked when you saw it twitch.

“S-Shut up and help me.” Ranpo whined out and you silently grabbed at his cock, running your hand up it. He openly groaned at the sensation, thrusting up into your hand with defeated relief. His head had tipped back, his hat nearly slipping off and you took the courtesy to reach up and place it on the counter. 

“Want me to suck it?” You looked at him through your eyelashes, teasing him lightly as your breath fanned over his cock. “Or you wanna fuck me?” 

“Both… God, please Y/N, put your mouth on it already…” One of Ranpo’s hands threaded into your hair and pushed you towards his cock and you immediately shut up, taking him into the warmth of your mouth. He was bitter and slick against your tongue, the precum dissolving against it as you lapped at it. A heady moan escaped him as you swallowed him down, his thighs trembling underneath your palm and you felt his fingers grip your hair. 

“Feels so good, shit, please keep going–” Ranpo groaned, his eyes slinking down to where your mouth hollowed out around him and he couldn’t help but push you down a bit and you gagged around him– he was thick and it was hard to breathe as he started to thrust up shallowly into your wet mouth. You braced yourself on both of his thighs now, letting him fuck up into your mouth and with watery eyes, you glanced up at him again. 

Ranpo’s entire body was on fire as you complied to his thrusts, your throat slack for his cock and he couldn’t help it– as he saw one of your hands start to unbutton the top of your dress pants and disappear into the lace of your panties, his hips jutted still and he came instantly into your mouth without a warning. 

“Fuck, atta girl…” He drew out in a long moan as he watched you swallow everything he had to give, pleasure shooting through him and his vision went a little hazy as you pulled off of him with a wet slurp. Ranpo’s eyes were still glassy with lust when he opened them, the aphrodisiac wearing down slightly but not by much. As he caught his breath, he wiped the excess that dribbled out of your mouth when you swallowed, his fingers caressing the side of your cheek. “Should’ve asked for your help sooner…”

“You came so fast…” Your voice was raw and you coughed a bit afterwards, a quiet chuckle answering you.

“Thanks to the sexy chocolate you had on hand.” Ranpo mentioned with a smirk and you pressed down on his thighs as you stood up, your legs nearly giving out from the position you were in. You fell against him, his hands coming to catch you by your waist and you realized you were close to his face now. He looked considerably better, he wasn’t nearly panting as hard now but there was still a prominent flush to his cheeks. 

“Which you shouldn’t of fucking eaten in the first place.” You retorted, pouting at him with puffed out cheeks and he laughed, his hands dragging down to the plump of your ass. You let out a surprised sound as he squeezed gently, looking you dead in the eyes still.

“Oh, boo hoo. Look where it got you.” He teased, his fingers hooking through the loops of your dress pants. “Aren’t you happy you finally got your hands on me?” 

Ranpo pulled them down in one swift motion and you blushed profusely, looking away from him quickly as his fingers swiped through the mess of your cunt. He grabbed you curtly by your chin, making you look at him again and you shook with pleasure as one of his fingers curled up into you. You moaned around your words as they spilled out of your mouth in a rushed tone. “W-What are you talking about? Ranpo…” 

“It doesn’t take my deduction skills to know you like me~ Now, why don’t you ride me like a good girl? You’d like that, huh?” He breathed out against your lips as he pressed them against yours, slipping his tongue inside swiftly whilst adding another finger to the swell of your cunt and earning a wanton moan from you.

Ranpo’s other hand made you grip his cock again, which was still rock hard against the soft cotton of his shirt. His bigger hand practically covered yours in one fell swoop as he made you start to pump him again, quiet whimpering falling against the frame of your lips. “It’s your fault, y’know… you should take care of me.”

This was going to be a long work day.

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[insufferablelust]

The Prince Regent (Aemond Targaryen x F!Sister!Reader)

{Can be read as the sequel of Gevī}

There are rumors floating around after the march of the greens in Rook’s rest, you were shocked when you learned of what has happened, rushed to confront your brother— you were made to once again quell the madness within with rekindling the fire with him.

This work contains mature acts, Minors DNI. 18+ Only.

Words counted: 10.4k+

Content include: 18+ MDNI! Targcest (canon incest practice of the Targaryen house), Smut, Sex, Oral sex (F receiving), Heavy breeding kink, Slight exhibitionism (Sex at the council chamber), Choking, Rough sex, Dumbification, Manhandling, Slight degradation, Reader has the attributes of the Targaryens (silver hair, purple eyes etc), Mention of violence, Canon injuries and death, Mention of usurping the throne (half-canon), LOTS of pet names, Slightly Dark!Aemond (He is so obsessive and possessive and feral of you.)

Note: Hello! I am back with new fic yay! this is another Aemond fic, which can be read as the follow up of my last fic, Gevī which can be found here, or you can also read it as a standalone, up to you! This work is NOT beta’d (there will be revision) since once more I am still slammed with work so I have yet the time to refer to my beta reader, but hopefully there is nothing much amiss, if there is, I apologize and I hope it will not disturb your reading experience. ALSO AEMOND IS UNHINGED IN THIS ONE YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Remember that english is not my native language so bear with me. My request is always open for HOTD characters. Enjoy and let me know what you think! thank you my loves.

Masterlist

The day has been moving rather slowly today, you mused, the sun looks as though it is shining but overshadowed by gloomy clouds at the same time— horizon darkens as the end of the day is fast approaching. It has been a strange day, oddly quiet even in the hustle and bustle of a dreaded war-coming, you had heard of your brothers whereabouts, both the King and the Prince as your mother was panicking earlier when they both were absent from the small council meeting.

You ignored the ever so loud chattering of the lords and ladies around the hall, as you sat below the Weirwood tree to read your book, the only place where you ought to sought comfort and refuge from the looming darkness that follows ahead, you had always been more receptive— taking in your surroundings and only use your sharp wit when necessary, you are like your brother, Aemond, in that sense, where you do not find pleasure in talking much if it does not have any meaning to it.

Though, you had not been silent since the days following Aegon’s crowning, your expertise in knowing Westerosi territories and politics are often seen be used by the small council as Aemond would come to you in any instance he needed help. You also always tried to interpret Helaena’s cryptic messages— having realized of your older sister’s ancient-like gift since you were little, it was you that had warned them to move the crowning ceremony anywhere but the Dragonpit when she had said “Beware of the beast beneath the boards.” Yet when they do not paid attention to you nor your sister, tis’ true that your family was one second away from being engulfed in Meleys’s fire if not for the Princess Rhaenys’s last minute compassion.

But alas, you had not been of useful as of late, ever since the passing of your nephew, Jaehaerys, you scolded yourself often on why you were not with Helaena that night, or why you did not have the time to interpret what she had said about the rats, though, Aemond had repeatedly assured you that there was no way that one can know such cruel thing would happen, and that there was nothing you could have done— moreover if you had stayed with Helaena that night, all your lives might be even more in danger due to the fact that you’re a young maiden.

You still feel guilty though, for you had been spending your night in the arms of your husband that night— comforting each other in warm embraces inside your chambers.

You and Aemond had always been inseparable since the day you were born, his little sister— someone he had always come to whenever he was faced with a hard time finding solace due to the constant torment and taunts your eldest brother and nephews has caused upon him. You can scarcely remember the times where Aemond is happy in his childhood, but the memories that stood the tallest in your memory are ones akin to when he would read to you about the Aegon’s conquest or Rhaenys’s journey to Sunspear, or Visenya’s tales with Vhagar.

Another one is when he had ventured through Maegor tunnels to get to your room and would ask timidly to sleep in your room because he was plagued by nightmares, or that time when he had come to your defense as Aegon broke one of your crystal jar, one that housed the famed rose from the North, or that time after he claimed Vhagar, eye sewn shut in Driftmark, you had visited him in his chambers despite your mother’s warning to let him rest when you know better that he would feel better accompanied by you. Tis’ unbreakable this bond of yours, strongly linked, and undoubtedly passionate.

Aemond finds all the thing he is not, in you, you are gentle, soft spoken, soothing in nature— even as your hair is as silver pale as he, your jaws are as sharp he, your wit are as bright as he— Aemond adored the part that truly empowers you, your compassionate self, your jaw-dropping smile, your unmasked confidence, your unapologetic self is what makes him honored to have you by his side.

Your presence calms his raging stormy minds and hot tempered self, your sweet saccharine voice, your angel like touches, your supple smooth skin— always seems to be flustered in heat when near him, your soft lilac eyes that gives him assurances, your slightly curlier locks— something you get from your mother, always half braided with half fanned to your side— the necklace you wore, given by him, a Valyrian ruby that always adorned your enthralling being, you are the epitome of a Valyrian goddess, graced with the beauty that people would go to war for, solicited by your intelligence that makes you powerful altogether. The word ‘infatuated’ does not even cover his love for you.

Speaking of your brother, the days following his return from Storms end had caused many distraught upon learning of what befell your nephew, in the flurry of it all, Aemond had taken your maidenhead, which he swore to wed you then— and that he did, asked his mother to betroth him to you once and for all as you had always meant to be— insisting after the death of Jaehaerys that it is crucial to have more heirs so that if the time comes, your bloodline will not perish so easily— Alicent, of course, had been furious at his son for, “How dare you corrupt your little sister!” but when you came to Aemond’s defense, she let her guard down and at last grant you both what you wished.

The deal with the Baratheons has been annulled… for now.

You both were wed in the sept just a few days after the tragedy, and were happily consummating your marriage if not for the news of Ser Cole and Gwayne Hightower’s success of house Darklyn in Duskendale, and is set to march to Rook’s rest once more, where Aemond is to to join him, he had told you once after an intense rounds of fucking.

You were finally pulled out of your reverie when the chatter around you gets louder, feeling irked by it you look up from you book only to have your frown wiped out by the sight in front of you. You saw few of Aegon’s knighted guards bringing a huge wooden box covered with your house’s sigil— Gods be good. You have thought of the worst then, what if it is Aemond? what if they are carrying his de—

“Princess, Her Grace the Queen Dowager has requested your presence in King Aegon’s chamber.”

Aegon?

“Thank you, Ser Harrold.” You replied, clutching the book tightly as you stand up, and walk towards where the other knights and seemingly hurdles of Maesters rushing to, your throat dried at the possibilities of what might await you once you reach Aegon’s chamber.

Is he alright?

Is Aemond alright?

Did they defeat the Blacks? What happened in Rook’s rest?

“Mother.” You muttered as you halt your steps upon reaching the now packed room, your eyes does not yet know where to land it’s sight on, the frantically moving figure of Maester Orwyle tending to a charred body on the bed, or the hisses that came from the servants who brought fresh linens, cloths, and water, or at your mother who stood with panic written all over her face, eyes glassy with tears.

“What has happened?” You asked, still unable to figure out exactly who is it that laid there, due to the hurdling of bodies taking pieces of armors off. The smell of burning and dragon fire is so evident, that the ladies around you scrunched their nose— you thought none of it considering you are no stranger to the smell of dragons— but what caught your line of sight next shocked and silenced you quickly.

There laid the King, your eldest brother, Aegon, with half of his face badly charred, his body littered in wounds from fire— the sight of him like that makes you choke and sob as you lean against Alicent who also watches with terrified eyes, “Is my son going to die, Maester?” Her shaky voice only enhanced the amount of tears you let out, lips trembling in confused emotions.

How did— who did— why did—

“I will do whatever I can to help him, your grace, but now I must get back because this is the most important step.” Came Orwyle’s response. You may despise Aegon for his lack of respect towards anyone— women in particular, but he is still your brother, your king.

“Why isn’t Heleana here?” You asked, turning your head to look at your mother, “and… Aemond?” came the question that have plagued your mind since you were fetched by Ser Harrold earlier in the Godswood, is he alright? did he suffer the same fate? did the blacks charred him too? I can not live without him, he— I cannot—

“Come.” Your mother beckoned you out of the chamber to sit by the bench near the Weirwood tree you sat earlier, your eyes are frantic, trying desperately to understand what is going on, what happened, and most importantly if your brother— Aemond is alright, “I can not call for Helaena… she—“ Alicent’s voice came with a choked sob, it breaks your heart seeing her like this, after seeing what befell Aegon, you understood that this is hard for her regardless the way how anyone feels about him, your brother, her son.

“I can not put more burden on your grieving sister, you must understand that only you can do this.” Her irises stabs right through yours as you ponder her words, digesting on what she could mean by ‘do this’— you understood why Helaena wasn’t called first thing to Aegon’s chamber despite her being his Queen, his wife, the reigning monarch in his absence, due to her still sullen with grief, but then it all clicks for you.

Ah.

This is about Aemond, if Helaena is your mother’s pawn to strengthen Aegon’s claim, then anything linked to you have always been, will, and must be about Aemond.

Only you,

You’re the only one that can soothe Aemond, calm him, hear him, understand him, discipline him when needed, tame him when necessary.

Only you that can release the ever glooming glorious tension that has risen and finally reached its peak between the heirs— one who was born first as a male heir, and the other one who is actually deserving of it by power and knowledge.

It’s you, his soulmate, his other half— it has only been you and everyone knows it, even your sister whom have said you are meant to fill the socket of the eye that Aemond has lost, you’re the missing piece in his tormented soul, the very needle that threads his wound, heal his anger, and cool down his temper.

But before you can open your mouth to respond, the sound of clanking armor once again reached the both of you and a voice boomed through the otherwise serene peace of the Godswood, “Pardon me, Your Grace, Your Highness, but the small council has gathered, and has asked for the presence of the Dowager Queen.” the Knight spoke, causing you to sigh and drown the words you had meant to speak of.

“Very well, I must return but please,” She looked at you feverishly, “My love, you need to talk to him, reason with him, because he will not do so with me.” Your heart once again breaks at that, yes you may have not had the fondest of love for your mother solely because she was too busy preparing Aegon, being queen in your father’s sickness, and feuding with your half-sister to care for you but alas, just like Aegon, she is of your blood, she is your mother— knowing she feels powerless to aid her own children, so much so, she asked for her youngest daughter’s help is a sorrowful thing to witness.

“I will, mother, now go.” You said, pulling your best smile to soothe her, the tresses of your silver locks blowing in the wind as she cup your face to kiss your forehead before fleeing to the small council chamber— leaving you with your thoughts once more, deserting you to quell over your confusion, with no comfort of assurance or security— you need Aemond, and he needs you, but how can you both reason with him when he is not within your reach, you just seek to know his safety and shield him, Helaena, and your niece of all this— but alas,

Did he do it?

Did he burn Aegon?

Is his desire for power so great that it quenches whatever left of affection you all had as siblings?

What will you do?

You love Aemond, you love him more than anything in the realm, your bond with him as strong as the bond you share with your dragon, Valyx, you do not and will never betray him— you had remembered his promise of making you his Queen, that the realm will bow to both of you, that his love for you is so great that it will be more than enough for him to fight and relinquish in victory— but at what cost? You had half the mind to seek Helaena, to ask for her guidance but that thought is quickly diminished by knowing the fragile state of your sister after Jaehaerys’s passing.

No, you will have to speak to Aemond, whatever result it may produce, whatever madness awaits you, whatever turn of story that may arise— you have to be ready for it, willing to face it, conquer it— for you do not wish for harm to ever come to those you love, to Helaena, your niece, your mother— and most importantly Aemond.

You just hope the Gods will grant you their blessings and forgiveness to what you will do or don’t do.

—

You had waited hours outside the small council chamber, pacing in front of the huge grant door, thinking and pondering on what you must say to Aemond, what you will do to reason with him. Your thoughts are plagued with the memories of your last encounter with Aemond, not that you can help it, it practical branded itself to you— He had always branded himself to your memory with everything he said and does.

It was the night after his small council meeting had gone awry, well according to his recollection— Aegon had once again undermined his knowledge and acted foolishly, not trusting his brother’s judgement, Aemond laid down on your lap, as you caresses his hair, his patch is off now that he is alone with you, in your chambers, with you only wearing your lilac shift and he, a tunic pants.

“Zȳhon mition yne amīvindis.” He had said that night as the flame dances through his iris and shappire— there is that unquenchable anger in him, you felt it miles away even before he laid on your bed, you knew that he was furious by the way he stormed to your room at the hour of the wolf, you had been sleeping when he entered, but quickly made way for him beside you. His stupidity infuriates me.

“Aegon?” You asked as your fingers cards through his hair in a soothing manner, you wish you can take away his pain, his worries, his fear— but Aemond is a hot tempered man, who will not be denied of his desires, who will not back down from a fight, who will never cower in silence, “Hm.” He hummed to you, “He is your king.” You humored him, passing a chuckle to the wind.

“Not for long.” Your fingers halted as he looked at you, trying to process what he just said, you knew your brother is hungry for power— for his throne, but it has always been a blur to you just how he was going to win— especially with Rhaenyra’s looming threat of war now, “Aemond…” You whispered, a distraught look is evident on your face, your rosy lips pout like it is begging for him to kiss you feverishly— to claim you once again.

“Do nor fret, sister,” He said, eyes sharp through yours while he bring his thumb up to your lip to press down on your ever so cute and tempting pout, what a tempting little tart, he thinks, “I do not wish to bring upon the ruin of the realm,” He pushes his thumb slightly in, you gladly open your lips to take the tip of his thumb inside and suckle on it as it is your lifeline. Your eyes closed for a second from a comforting gesture it brings you, he knows this calms you, content you— “Unlike Aegon.” He whispered the last part before completed parting your lips with his thumb so you can suck on it with little mewls of contentment.

He cooed at your subdued state, gods, he does not care of anything but to serve you— give you the realm as you fully deserve, his queen. Beautiful, untainted, pure, and the very image of both the Mother and Maiden bestowed upon a figure— you, you and your flustered self, you and your cherry lips, fluttering eyes, smooth silver locks, body of a goddess, a personality of Eve, charm of Rhaenys, dream of Daenys, fierce of Visenya, and soul that is unique to just you. He worships you more than you know, but he will show you— he will always show you.

“There you go, sweet girl.” His voice both soothe and heat up your core, and it catches you by no surprise when the night ended with you both tangling atop of the bed, with you on your hands and knees, his hand against the back of your neck— as he fucked your cunt with a varying pace of both a feral madman, and a devout husband— yours. You had been naught but a whimpering mess, a shaky shivering little girl overwhelmed with pleasure.

He had worshipped you then, kisses you softly on your skin as he brings you to your peak over and over and over again with his fingers, mouth, cock— every inch of him is solely to make you feel heavenly, so much so, that you are sure that your vision had gone blurry and you slumped onto the bed as he took care of you.

Your mind was quickly pulled once more from your thoughts when you heard the door of the small council chamber had finally been opened, you stood diligently to the side, waiting for your husband so that you may speak to him. You watched the lords move outside one by one, bowing to you when they catch you, which you had curtly but politely nod, until Lord Larys Strong came to your line of sight.

“Princess, how nice it is to see you.” Now you have never hold much disdain towards those who does not deserve it, and though Larys had never done anything to you personally, you are but know how much a rat he truly is. Indeed, he is an intelligent cunning man, known for his whisperings and cruel deeds that, even you, do not wish to know—but for the sake of the crown, you begrudgingly smiled, “Likewise, Lord Larys.” The fingers behind your back is picking at your cuticle in stress, Gods where is Aemond.

“The Prince Regent will certainly be delighted with your presence, regency is not an ea—“

“Regent?” Your brow furrowed at the mention, head spinning and running by a thousand miles— “Aemond… regency?” You asked, desperately trying to figure out what in the Seven hells happened and what has been done by it, “Yes, your highness, he—“

“Larys, may I speak with my wife in private now?” His voice came from inside the room, and you can scarcely see his figure emerging from inside, he is wearing his usual black attire, adorned with a green coat as a sign that he had been riding Vhagar prior, your eyes slipped to see the now two dagger on his side, one each, and your lips twitch with shock as you spot Blackfyre on the scabbard, you can not mistaken it, for it is one of the only two mighty Valyrian sword left that belongs to your family. Aemond had watched you gawking at him with an aura of eerie calmness to him, the sight making your spine curled and skin shivering.

This is all for you, sister, all I do is for you, he wants to say.

Your stare fled from his dagger up to his calm form, the way he holds so much power even when he is just standing there, with his arms behind his back, legs parted, head tilted, and lips pressed into a thin line—your violet eyes went up up up until his own gleams into yours, heating what feels like a suffocating heat around you. You continued staring into his eyes as your heart thundered inside your chest, you do not even notice that Larys had said his farewell and had left you both alone, at the entry of the council chamber— or at least you thought you were alone, before your mother’s voice spoke from behind the door— caught your peripheral vision.

“What are you doing here so late, sweet girl? have you had supper yet?” She asked, hands coming up to cupped your cheek in her otherwise cold hand, she’d been furious, you mused, eyes fleeting to the red marks on your mother’s finger, it seems that old habits die hard, “I wish to speak to Aemond, mother.” You bit the inside of your cheek at the way you almost whimpered his name— yes you are confused and possibly angry at him right at this very moment but he is your husband, the love of your life, your other half— you are also drowned by worries and fears of his safety, especially after seeing the state Aegon is in.

“I need to know he is well.” and safe and I just want to run away with him where no one can find us, I wish this madness can stop and be in peace with him— but you do not say that, no, you just smiled softly at your mother upon hearing Aemond hummed at you intriguingly, almost like he is both amused and mocking your sense of worry.

He knows that you know he did what he did.

Good, he thinks, let you see that he would burn the realm down for you, he would sooner die than to give you any less than what his wife, his precious sweet sister deserves.

“Very well then, I shall check on how Helaena is doing.” You do not miss the way Aemond’s lips twitches at the mention of either your sister or your eldest brother, his stoic self is evermore transparent yet foggy all the same for you to read, “Tell her we send our well wishes…” It’s his turn to speak now, eyes never leaving your figure with his voice ever so so alluringly gentle, “and to Aegon’s recovery, of course.”

Your spine curled at that, the invisible hair on your skin risen at the chill and smugness of his voice— Gods, Aemond… what have you done.. that’s all you can think but moreover, what will I do with you.

Your mother left you both at that, yet you can’t find it in you to move or speak to him, the slit on your dress passes the breeze seeping through your skin, the neckline that came above your breasts seems so tight now as you take desperate breaths to calm yourself down— you both just stared at each other, his, with longing, love, affection, you you you.

Yours are filled with the same longing, same love, same subject of desire yet there is a glint of confusion, uncertainty, and doubt swimming in your eyes— not to spite him or put distrust in him, he knows that, he knows you best— He knows you are just confused, a darling little pet you are, even when thrusted with so many responsibilities at the time of war, you still have that innocent childlike self in you that cowers in his gaze, that is desperate to seek good in the midst of destruction, that is curious, always seeking his approval, his assurances. It warmed him, for he knows that, only he, can assuage that building turmoil inside of you, only he can ease your pain, assure your worry.

“Come.” He said, Aemond beckoned you inside the council chamber with two flicks of his fingers, you followed suit, hands cold in front of you— blood of the dragon yet cold hands, he always muses to you often time he warmed you up, ah you do always love his warmth, engulfing you with security and love, comforting you the only way Aemond can, you longed for that, and you know he longs for it too.

“Aemond..” Your lips trailed as the door closes behind you, there Aemond stopped in his tracks, leaning against the table with his hand perched back against it, lips turned in an amused smirk with his head tilted.

Fuck fuck fuck, you need to focus.

“Aemond…” You said once more, walking closer to him but stopping just few feet away, keeping a respectful distance— not that it mattered much, if he wanted to— and he does— he could have you so easily, manhandles you right here right now, bending you over the very table he now commands and pound you to oblivion, releasing his pent up rage and frustration in that sweet sweet cunt of yours, “Hm?” Aemond merely hummed at you even when his mind conjured up the most obscene things, he has to have you, he needs— “Speak, little one, I am listening.” He grinned with mockery, which made you huff and stomp your feet like you used to do when you were a little girl, yet he finds you so sweet as you do it, only making his heart soar with love and desire for you.

What are you doing to him, little girl?

“What has happened?” What he would do to wipe that pout from your face, why are you testing him so far today, his little nymph, “It was a successful operation at Rook’s rest.” He replied calmly, making your blood boil as you scoffed and shake your head disdainfully at his remark, “It was foolish, reckless even—“

“Did we not took out the largest looming threat?” He pressed on, edging you to be angry with him, “It was a worthy effort, a worthy price.” His eyes twinkle when he see your heating face— such an angry little dove, you are, what a temperament that has long been subdued by your years of princesses duties, causing you to retract back to a shell— though he knows better, that you and him share the blood of dragon and fire in you.

Let it burn, sweet sister, let it burn and we shall emerge from the ashes.

“A worthy effort? your king is at the teetering edge of death.” You bit your lip to suppress your anger, let it simmer but do not let it boil to overheat, “What of Helaena, Aemond? she has just lost her son, and now you’ll take away her husband too?” You tried to reason with him, eyes fleeting from his yes to his puffing red lips back to his eyes.

Focus, fuck, why can’t you focus.

“What do you take me for, sister?” His tone is accusatory, eyes sharply glared at you, if he was annoyed before, he is furious now, “You accused me of treason, is that it? deem me a kinslayer?” You tap your feet below you, a sign that you’re either nervous or irritated— maybe both at this point.

“You said it, not me, Aemond.” It was a pitiful attempt at trying to not think of him that way— even in your anger, you still want to find the good in him, but dearest sister, alas your soulmate is one paradox only you can understand, one cursed being you can love, a match to your own fixation, “Tell me you did not do it.” Your eyes held so much hope in them, pleading and begging for his assurances. He truly would do anything to destroy anyone that make you this worrisome, but if it is him, then he shall do what he always did, to declare his love for you, so immense that he can do naught, but serve the realm on a golden plateau for you.

He closes the gap between the two of you, standing tall over you, leaning his head forward to press his forehead against yours— breathing with rage with his warm palm coming up to cup your jaw, a possessive gesture, served only for you, there is so much passion between the two of you that your mind gets hazy and fuzzy with it, “Sweetling,” He breathes, once, twice, three times, “What have I told you over and over, hm? what did I promise to you?” His words thrum against your skin, with your bones stilling itself in the desire to melt into him— become one with him.

I will never leave you, dōnus ñuhys, you are destined to be my queen, for all the Seven, nor the Old Gods can never deny us.

“There will be nothing left for us if this madness do not cease, Aemond…” You whispered his name, eyes prickling with sharp heat beneath your eyelids— forcing you to close them shut even when you do not want to, “I am terrified.” You muttered it out of desperation and pure fear and that troubles Aemond, oh no no, his little girl, how has he been so blind to your cries.

He can feel his heart tugs with pain, his stubborn self is telling him to soothe you, calm you down, relieve you of your misery that is looming fear, oh little dragon— he hadn’t mean to scare you, only to show you his dedication, for who will he show it else to if not for the most important person of his life? he would not have find it in him to even claimed Vhagar, if it were not for you, you’re his source of life.

“Look at me.” That was not a request from him, but a demand, one you so eagerly followed, “You have me, what are you so terrified of when you have me?” He punctuates each of his words with pressing against you harder, your body jolted lightly as your rear hit the edge of the table after being spun by him.

“The war—“

“If we march together, our power will not easily be subdued— tis’ what needs to be done, and I will be ready to do it, risk my life so we will prevail. Would you not have done the same?”

“I would, you know I would.” Your eyes remained close throughout his declaration, eyes trying to frantically stop your tears but alas, it is a useless pursuit, tears flows down your cheeks at a faster rate than you’d like, at this Aemond cooed, wiping your tears, “You and I, we can have what is ours, sweetling, what has been ours since they took our eye.”

Our eye, he says, not mine— “You’re the missing eye that fills his socket.” Helaena once told you.

“What of Aegon?” You opened your eyes at him, holding his stare as best as you could even when he took a sharp breath and press his thumb on your pouty parted lips, “Aegon rushed to Rook’s Rest to proof his worth despite the better judgement offered by the council,” He paused, nose nudging into yours where you can feel every single allure that drips off your husband like its second skin, “He challenged Meleys, got overpowered, and I had to come in to save the armies… as I have intended to do before he so recklessly join in with Sunfyre.” His lips are touching his thumb now, the only thing shielding your petal bloomed parted lips with his.

You should be concerned by his statement, for you know Aegon would not ended the way he is now if Aemond had actually meant to ‘save him’, there is something else, you know he would not kill out of spite even with the years of insults and torments that Aegon himself, had bestowed upon your brother, he would not deliberately kill him, yet the intention to hurt is not lost on you.

Meleys is a strong dragon of your house, a battle trained one at that, but still not enough against the mighty Vhagar, that fought alongside Visenya on Dornish war and conquer it, let alone two dragons— but perhaps, you have naught but pressing longing now, your impulses seems to control you— your innate desires taking over and you can only do what your heart and body wants, never mind what your mind says, it matters not, you’re his, he’s yours.

You leaned impossibly closer to him, urging him to take away his thumb against your lips by tugging on his wrist as your glistening eyes look up at him with desperation in them, his humming is slightly cold, but you know better that its full of mirth— he is teasing you.

“I suppose now that I am in charge…” He tilted his head menacingly, pressing his lips upon the gap of your brow, hold you tight to him as he took in your rose oil scented skin, how heavenly, he thinks, “You ought to call me, your grace, isn’t that true, princess?” His thumb slipped inside your rosy lips then, the force is too heavy to bear as you sigh and suckle on the tip of his lips— eyes fluttered shut, “Uh huh.” Your lips parted from his thumb with a lewd pop!

“Your grace.”

Your eyes flit open, droopy with want, heat on the apex of your thigh is ever so persistent against the now soaked fabric of your silk smallclothes, Aemond eyes are sharp— ravenous as he stared at you, “Syz riña.” He purred. Good girl.

Having no more self control over him, Aemond use his free hand to hold the side of your neck— lightly pressing on the pulse point, enough to make your head dizzy, and presses his lips on yours with so much want, need, pressure of claim-claim-claim and mine-mine-mine.

If there is one thing about Aemond is that he’d never be denied, not when he was destined to claim the greatest dragon in the realm, not when he is supposed to sit on the Iron throne, and certainly not when he’s going to have you— no, you’re his, since you were bare as a babe, to now, his beautiful sweet girl of a wife.

Fuck, he’s achingly hard just at the feeling of your lips, body heat, and thought of your sweet flushed face. Gods be damned.

You gasped at the feeling of his teeth grazing your bottom lip, asking— no, demanding you to part your lips by biting at it— not too hard, yet enough to make you squirm on the ledge of the table, as your pretty pink raw lips parted in obedience, he wasted no time to push his tongue inside passionately— exploring your oh so delectable wet cavern like a madman, whilst you mewl with the lightheaded feeling of his grasp on your throat and his tongue battling, or more like conquering yours.

Your body is now dangerous low to the tabletop behind you as your nails fisting weakly at his leather tunic, a silent plea for him to give you time to breathe, its pure instinct he knows, but how can he deprive himself of you. Your melodic whines, the way your pink lips parted and indulge him so so sinfully, the way your chest heave with each gulping breath you try to take, and the way you clench your thigh, oh yes he knows all about it, little girl.

After you slap at his chest for a few times, Aemond finally relent, parting his lips from your now cherry bitten lips— you take big gulps of breath, gasping for what seems to be minutes after he released you, your head spins and you’re sure your knee would not been able to hold your figure even against the table if not for his strong grip on both your neck and waist.

“Come back to me.” He whispered, temple pressed against yours as you let out soft whimpers at the heightened pleasure of fuzziness in your head— just him him him, just Aemond Aemond Aemond, “I— please.” You can do naught but to plead with him, eyes watery as you stared at him—lips trembling, wanting to say so much more, please claim me, fuck me senseless, please make me forget that this realm exist, make me only yours, make me your queen just as you promised— but he knows, Gods he knows you, he knows what you want, he always does.

“Please what, sweetling?” But does it thrill him to no end seeing you so desperate, so needy for his touch that you’d beg and beg—Seven hells, not only is his heart thundered against his ribcage, but his cock is painfully aching at your dewey flushed face, “Use your words, zaldrītsos.” His words might be encouraging, yet his tone is anything but— its mockery, he is taunting you and it makes you drip down your legs. Little dragon.

“Touch me… please.”

You gathered all the voice you have left, even if it is just a mere whisper that sounded more like a meek mewl, “I am touching you.” He said, his fingers trails up and down the sleeve of your gown, making you shudder with want— tiny wantons of needy whines escaped you as his fingers trail upon the material of your silk covered breasts— nipples pert with peaking desires.

“Not— you know where I want your touch…” The frustration embedded within you forced this snappy remark of yours, one he clicked his tongue at, just like he always did when you were little— when you had eaten all your lemon cakes in a single sitting, when you would hide beneath the grassy slope atop of Rhaenys’s hill, when you would constantly fuss to keep his wound clean, so much so that you had stayed whenever the maester came in to change his dressings albeit the warning from your mother. It’s the click of the tongue that signifies not only to remind you of disobedience, but it holds a stronger purpose to know that he so affectionately loves and ardor whatever it is you do, even when you are being a fussy bratty little thing that you are.

“Being an impudent girl for me will not serve you well, I had thought you know this by now.” He shakes his head at you, fingers trailing backwards to slowly unlace the neat tying of your ladies’s work on the bodice of your gown— all the while brushing your half braided silver locks to the side and lean forward to nip at your neck causing you to gasp.

Oh he wishes to bend you to him, but moreover to protect you, all the same, as he did when he would wipe the lemon frosting from your lips, or give you his last candied sweets, or grip your wrist to lead you back to Maegor’s tunnels to not incurs the wrath of your mother, or clasp a hand to your lips to keep you from squeaking as to not alert Aegon of where your whereabouts— it is all meant as a testament of his often unspoken devotion to you, and you know it.

“Aemond—“ You are unable to mutter anything let alone an apology as you feel your gown slides off from your body down as it pooled on the ledge of the table— only held by how your body is pressed against the stone table, now only clad in your thin silk shift and smallclothes, you felt so exposed, your neck snapped sideways as you looked at the door behind you, it dawns in on you that you are in fact in a room where someone could just walk in, and found you both in the state of lewdness, “Aemond, not here.”

“I am the Prince regent, I shall do what I please, where I wish.” Came his reply, you can do naught but shudder at the deep rumble that is his voice, at your small gasp, Aemond continued to press soft almost gentle feather kisses on the exposed skin of your pulse point, down your jugular, to the base of your neck, behind your ear—“Ah!” You can feel him chuckling at your voiced pleasure, he knows you like the back of his hand, which spot makes you tick and jolt— you arch your back when he suck and nip at the sensitive skin, ever so reactive to his touch, you are.

You always are, little dove, like you are made to respond to him— his voice, touch, kisses, pleasure, demands— each and every single one of his decrees.

Aemond palm comes up to cusp your flowery breasts next, fondling the soft skin with your buds firmly against the calloused skin of his palm. He then rolled the blossoming darkening buds of pleasure between his index and thumb, causing you to grip onto his biceps, “Mm Seven—.” You tried your best to remain sane but alas, you never were to begin with, nothing is ever normal nor sane but you could not care less, not when it is him.

He chuckled at your oversensitivity, mouth slide down from the crook of your neck to your stern collarbone, before reaching the valley of your breasts. He looked up at you menacingly as he takes one of your pert bud into his mouth to suckle on it as you yelp— hand clutching his doublet in desperation, you are sure by now that your smallclothes is not only drenched but soaked from the way your cunt pulse with each second going by.

“Doñus riñus.” He murmured as he littered marks all over your now flushed skin, moving to the other neglected nipple, applying the same treatment of pull-tug-suckle on the poor overstimulated bundle of nerves. Sweet girl.

Aemond released your now reddened bitten tender buds with a loud pop! causing blush to once more darken on your flushed skin, he smirks up at you then,“Lay down, ābrazȳrys.” wife. He lightly push you downward against the stone table, you shuddered lightly when your heated skin met the cold surface, your eyes are glistened— wide yet droopy with needy innocence as you stared up at him, eyeing him as he removes his breeches slowly.

“Aemond…” You whined and pressed your thighs together when he keeps on teasing you by undoing his laces way too fucking slow, he knows it will drive you mad especially since your drenched tight cunt is inviting him oh so warmly— fuck, he thinks, you looked like the Maiden and Mother has painted, created the perfect goddess of the realm, silver locks wildly splayed on the table, with your braids almost undone, and your body glistened with thin layer of sweat and some of his spit, skin flushed with his markings on you, “Fucking temptress little slut.” He groaned as he stared at you panting.

Your puffy cheeks are heated with lust and neediness, your eyes stared at him like you always did when you sought comfort or wisdom from him— the same way little you had looked up at him whenever you beg for his remaining sweet treats, or when that first time in your reading chambers, oh how you had asked him so so sweetly to touch you— open and take your maidenhead like a good obedient little girl you are, how your bitten raw lips is murmuring pleads to him as if he wouldn’t give you what you want— oh his poor little darling, always wanting more more more.

Then his gaze fall down the swell of your breasts, the way it rises up and down with each breath you take, inviting him to suck and nip at the tender buds once more, and when he dropped his sight to your fluttering folds— he bit his lip, hard, for the view is both the most sinful obscene yet heavenly thing he could ever have witnessed in his lifetime, there you lay, ready for him, ripe for the taking, and the center of your pleasure is weeping for him to take care of you— to take you.

“Gevie.” He whispered as he drank his fill of you— you, the embodiment of a Princess, a Queen— all in name, nature, body, spirit, and soul, everyone should worship you, for he can swear to the Seven that you are holier than any deity common folk would pray to, you are not just the core of his being, but the essence of his vitality— his his his. Beautiful.

Aemond wastes no time to drop to fold your legs so he can enjoy his treat, he grunted before leaning down to kiss the inside of your mound— hand holding to your hips and one on your thighs to keep them there, his hold is stern enough to let you know that if you were to move them, oh little one, there will be consequences. You tried your best to keep them there as he press sweet lingering kisses all over the very surface of your folds, all wet and begging for him.

You gasped at the sudden sensation of his fingers parting your warm heat gently, making way for his tongue to spread the wetness from your opening up up up through the soft muscle then to your pearl, focusing on the now reddened and hardened nub with teasing licks and not yet a suckle on the oversensitive gem for he knows you would crumble and reach your peak oh so suddenly— no he wants to keep you on edge for a little longer, having you on that teetering insanity, controlling your pleasure as he pleases.

But when he does let up and suckle on the raw pulsing nub— you let out a sound akin to that of a scream, somewhere between a loud needy whine and strained moan— causing him to grunt, sending vibrations through your core, you jolted at the feeling, arching your back to pull away from him but causing a grinding effect instead— you clasped a hand on your lips to stifle the wanton sounds you let out.

“Ah-ah, do not hide from me now, little one.” He rasps against your cunt, you had half the mind to be bratty and yank his hair for causing you to be so so messy, but you only bit your tongue to halt yourself from getting yet another bruises from the last time you were bent over his knee— which was not that long ago, having been ridiculed on yet another Aegon’s quest, combined with your snappy attitude had him seeing red.

“Enough.”

“No.” You raised your eyebrow at the fuming man standing tall over you, having you crane your neck just to look up at his sharp eye and the mean clench of his jaw, “Thread carefully, sister.” He warned you, tilting his head that should’ve been an indication for you to stop— but alas you wanted to push him, to see the limit that is Aemond Targaryen, if only there is one— you rolled your eyes then, biting the inside of your cheek in an act of defiance. Oh now you have done it, little girl.

You barely seen him coming for the next you knew, you yelped as he manhandled you over his knee on the bed, both of your wrists are behind you, tightly gripped by his much larger ones— “Let me go.” You whined, trying to tug free of his grip only for him to chuckle darkly, “You wanted to test me, push me, and now you shall see the consequence of your misbehavior.”

“Aemond—“

“Ah-ah, if you wanted me to treat you like a whore, all you gotta do is ask, darling.” You clenched at that, letting out a squeaky gasp at the way his voice resonates through the room, “Hm, lets see if we can put that mouth to a better use than running your tongue like a tart.” With that he pushed two of his free digit to the inside of your bitten lips— down down down until it rests against your throat.

You looked up at him with teary eyes, heated cheeks, and lips wide open with his fingers stuffed inside of you— both preventing you to speak and constrict your air intake, causing your head to get fuzzy— not dangerous just flying on that mind space of him him him, Aemond notices your now cloudy lilac orbs and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead— all the gentleness short lived, however, when he freed your wrist from his grip to press a loud impactful swat to your cheeks causing you to yelp against his fingers.

“Now lets see if your dumb little head can count for me.”

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you feel the stinging white noise of his slap against your folds— yelping as you feel your peak closing in, “I’m close— please please.” You writhed underneath him before he gently shushes you, taking one of his hand and intertwining it with yours, whilst he enters your wet warm opening with the other— a finger slides in, before a second joining the pleasurable stretch.

“Tight little thing, you are.” He shakes his head between your thighs but your ears are ringing too loudly to register anything right now, mind so so hazy with cunt so so overstimulated, meanwhile, Aemond continues his ministration on your pearl, suckling on the poor nub with vigorous attention, “Mmnh, I—“ You can feel the height of your pleasure come crashing down on you, stomach tightening with heat, too hard, too much, so quickly.

“Let go for me, sweetling.”

You obeyed at his command, as you always do, a good girl you are always do as he wishes— your peak was a long one with you letting out a silent scream followed by plethoras of his name and chanting ‘ah’s’ and ‘oh Gods!’ as he savor your release.

The man above you grinned as your body shake beneath him, having one of the hardest peak of your life, he pulled his fingers out of you with a satisfied smile— a proud one at that, having to see your essence coating not only the tabletop where all the lords that serve him now would sit to discuss the runs about the realm, about his reign but also covering his fingers. You’re a delectable delight, perfect molded whore, carefully shaped nymph for him. His.

Aemond stands up, intertwining both your fingers together to guide you to sit up— having been near insensate from your heightened senses, he had to support your spine as you shakily face him again— and his sight of you is one he can only describe of all Seven heavens in itself. You, a mess you are, silver hair mused and wild as if you had been on Valyx back, it cascades down the plane of your shoulder and back, your face is flustered, eyes droopy, unfocused, and lips, your lips pulled into a drunken kind of smile.

Oh, he has gotten you in a place where all you can do is take what he gives you. Fuck.

You, sweet pliant you, in the daze of your peak welcomes him gleefully when he presses a passionate kiss on your lips, feverishly moving your lips with his, you gasp as he bit your bottom lip, tongue entering to enter your wet cavern once more, before parting with a lewd pop! sound, “Syz riña.” good girl.

The gentleness of his actions are short lived though, Aemond smirks before you feel him manhandled you around, and bend you over the cold stone table, causing you to gasp in both surprise as well as feeling the chilling sensation on your tummy and up your overstimulated chest area, “Shh, no fussing.” He scolded you as if you’re a child, but his stern tone alone made your knee goes weaker.

You can hear the sound of his breeches being untied behind you, the sound alone has your neck craning to the side, your head pressed against the table and drags one of your leg upwards to graze against his legs, smiling to yourself in a post peak-haze state, “Hurry.”— that soft giggly voice of your demand surprises Aemond as he chuckled behind you, shaking his head at the gentle brattiness you let out.

“Aemond!” You yelped when you feel his hand coming down on your bottom, not once but three times in loud harsh succession— you lift your legs once more not out of teasing nature but to quell the pain and the oh so good feeling that comes from it, your cunt clenching around nothing as you arch, “Little girls who ran their mouth will not get anything but this, you hear me?” He said, palming your now reddened tender skin roughly, though the sensation makes you whimper.

“Of course you’d love that too, filthy girl.” He gives you no time to process his words before he tap the now hard leaking length against your opening, which makes you whine lewdly, he is pushing just slightly in, but not enough to even get half of his tip in, making you cry out in frustration, “Kostilus, lēkia.” Please, brother.

“Hm, I do love seeing you beg for it.” He hummed, pressing a kiss on the skin of your back, before breaching the tight opening of your cunt inch by inch, “Fuck, missed this tight cunt.” He grunts, feeling the way your walls sucking him in inside your warm heat.

The stretch caused you to wail and mewl “Tis too much—“ and, “too big!” if anything, the sound of your protests and the contradicting clench of your cunt around his cock is making him more feral— almost animalistic in how he thrusts harder inside you, before burying himself deep deep deep, head nudging the opening of your cervix with just the right amount of pain from the pleasure of being opened by his length, and pleasure from the way the curved tip hit your spongey spot with ease.

Aemond does not let you breathe much it seems, as he begin his fulfilling assault on your battered cunny, thrusting his length oh so deep before pulling, then slam it back in with vigorous pace, hitting all the right places even when his width alone made you shudder near your peak, “So good— oh!” You moaned, closing your eyes and arching your back, to which he responded with a hand yanking your silver locks tightly, the impossibly deep arch of your back has you both drunk on the feeling.

“Take it, take me.” He moaned in your ear, not once does he relent in his pace, always fucking into you harder, pounding you into oblivion, so much so that your cannot care anymore of who might heard what the of you are doing in the very same table he now commanded, he now holds the highest marble rank, the thought would exhilarate you further if you had not been so consumed by the way his cock reach your sweetest spot over and over again.

“Let them hear you, sweetling— fuck, let them know who you belong to, who is in fucking charge.” His words have double the meaning, that you can interpret perfectly, for he relinquish in the knowledge of claiming you, owning you, which you happily obliged, but he also needs to hear it from you that he has deserved this place, as the Prince Regent, that he has fully earned it, and shall lead the realm as his own.

“I belong to- Ah! you, My Prince…” Your voice is shaky in the wake of your nearing release, your velvety walls involuntarily clenched around him when his hips stuttered at the revelation that is you words, it seeped into his skin, thrumming along his veins— his grip on your hair and waist is tightening, for you are sure that your skin would be covered by his love marks by the morrow, but you did not care, let them see, let them know who rules the Seven Kingdoms, and who is steadfastly stood by his side, his Queen.

“Ao nykē perzōñi iksi, ābrazȳrys. Hen prānot hae mērȳ zālagon indīliks.” You and I are made of fire, wife. We have always been meant to burn together.

“Issa! zaldrīzo ānogar, Īlvon qumblī iāris.” Yes! blood of the dragon, ours runs thick. You replied in the midst of your clouded mind, his declaration has made you seen the stars that for a moment you thought you had been flying through the sky with Valyx, yet make no mistake, for his hips driving into you, and the way he snaked one of his arms down around you to rub at your pearl, instantly ground you back to earth, “Va sȳndroti vāedroma.” Joined as one. He whispered deeply, “Avy jorrālean, zaldrītsos.” I love you, little dragon.

“Come for me.” He rasped deep in your ear, that was the last restraint you have on you, as the combination of the never ending pounding of his cock inside your now oversensitive cunt has you curling your toes, the feeling of his fingers rubbing quick circle over your now engorged reddened nub has tears running down your face so prettily, so messily, painting the perfect picture of a ruined slut just for him.

You came with sobs escaping your lips, the plethora of whimpers of his name heightened the pressure inside the now sex smelling room, the sound of steps are loud from the grounds outside the keep, so does the sound of the occasional knight’s armors clanking, but all of that escaped your mind— too dumb speared on his length to give a fuck, your eyes closed as his hips faltered, feeling him shake above you at the telltale sign of his own impending release, you smiled drunkenly at the knowledge of your effect on him, “Give it to me, please, fill me up,” You mewled softly, finding every bit of your strength left to urge him, “Give me a babe, Aemond— mmh! let me give you an heir.”

Aemond groaned loudly at your words, “Fuck— fucking shit.” You have no idea what you have said to him, sweet girl, you have no idea how the thought of him marking you, both bound by blood, vow, and his seed inside you, does to him. You have no idea how much he wishes to always keep you full of his come, so you may be swelled with babes, because then nobody would ever question his claim over you, nor claim over the true line of Targaryen blood that is deserving of the Iron Throne.

He thrusted inside you one more time before stilling himself deep— so fucking deep inside you with his tip nudging your womb, and releases his seed inside of you with words of lewd affirmations spilling out of his lips, “Good girl, gonna watch you swell with my babe.” and, “Take it, little one, I’m yours— fuck!”

Your neck craned to the side as warmth filled your insides, smiling and biting your lips at the overwhelming sensation of both searing pain as well as being completely full of him, claimed and mark by him, undoubtedly his, “Avy jorrāelan, valzȳrys.” I love you, husband. You muttered, his eye still closed and his lips peppering small kisses along the plane of your back and your spine.

After some moment of calming down basked in silence, with only each other’s deep breathing, and him humming high Valyrian to your ears, he then slipped out of you, before turning you around and carry you to the where the chair for the King, or in this instance, the Prince Regent is located.

He sat down on it, with you laying on top of his lap in a fetal position, the crown of your head is tucked safely under his chin whilst his palm caresses the skin across your back and arms softly, “I hope I was not too rough.” He murmured against your hair, kissing at the messy silver strands lovingly.

“You were…” You mumbled, looking at him mischievously, he raised an eyebrow at you- biting the inside of his cheek awaiting your response, “But I like it.” Came your reply, cheeks flushed once more at the way he muttered something akin to “Fucking hell” under his breath.

“Aemond—“

“I will never put you in danger.” He said, eyes boring into yours, full of hope, full of promises, “Do you trust me?” His voice came out with a hint of vulnerability to you, almost like he bares his neck for you to bite if you so please.

You frown at this, “Of course,” You put your palm on his jaw, “Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo, rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi.” Vow spoken through time, of darkness and light. He smiled at your words, have long he had dreamed of binding your blood in the tradition of Old Valyria, he is perhaps the perfect devout son that worships the Seven, yet he is also very much connected to the blood of the dragon as you are with yours. Tis’ something he have vowed to do with you once the realm’s stability comes back.

“Do not be afraid.”

“With you? never again.”

It is true that you longed for nothing more than to be with him in a world of your own, in a world where there is no more bloodshed, in a realm where peace is known, no green— no black, just you and him— but you also know that it is wishful thinking, for you all have a part to play, you included, as Helaena has said before, if your part is to be the eye he had lost, if your part is to be his anchor, his devoted wife, his sweet sister, his lover, his destiny, then by his side is where you shall be.

For it is better to go to Seven hells and back with him, then to live in agony without him.

You’re bound by vow, by blood, by wounds, by heart, and most importantly by that invisible string of everlasting fire. You are meant to burn together.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.5 these feelings are hard to find

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 5/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 10.4k

a/n. aaaa this chapter took me a while because i was having some pretty bad writer's block. i seriously can't believe it crossed over 10k words, i very poorly planned how much i wanted to get done by this chapter, but i didn't feel like splitting it into two so oh wellll. hope you enjoy! pls excuse any typos we all live on a floating rock.

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

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“I really don’t understand why I’m here…” you’re grumbling as you, Mina and Todo make your way up the pavement of the driveway leading to the house party. You glance to your right where Mina and Todo are holding hands, arms swinging as they keep pace together. 

It was finally Friday after a particularly long and stressful week, so you were extremely excited to just spend the rest of the night relaxing at home. You had already poured yourself a glass of wine when you returned from your evening class and were sitting on the couch with a blanket on, scrolling through Netflix, when Mina approached you while she was talking to Todo on the phone. She mentioned something about an SAE party tonight that she wanted you to come along for and Todo said he’d extend his other invite to you. When you politely declined, Mina slumped down on the couch and told Todo she had no interest in going unless you also came. And then Todo was bribing you with a hundred bucks. Easiest hundred bucks you’ve ever made. 

“Don’t be a downer. You’re here because I think you’ve been working hard and you need to relax a bit,” Mina chirps, now clinging onto Todo’s arm, “and there’s no better way to relax than getting drunk.”

“I could be getting drunk at home,” you mumble to yourself, the night you were imagining for yourself all day being very different from where you find yourself now. 

The guy that was bouncing for tonight’s party was scanning people’s phones and engaging in some small talk before allowing people inside. He was pretty handsome and you wondered if there was some sort of requirement written in the rules to the SAE fraternity that they must be good-looking to join.

“Hello, my brother,” Todo says as he approaches, smacking him so hard on the back in greeting that the man stumbles over slightly and sends an irritated glare Todo’s way before he regains his balance.

“Hey, big guy, are these your invites?” He gestures towards you and Mina, his eyes landing on yours and lingering for a moment. You blink at him. 

“Yes, this here’s my lovely lady, and this here’s my lovely lady’s friend,” Todo says with a faux suave that only makes you narrow your eyes at him. The man at the entrance sighs and nods before stepping out of the way and motioning the three of you towards the entrance. 

The minute you enter, you immediately realize that this party felt very different from the one you were at last week. It was slightly less crowded, but there were still plenty of people bustling around the large expanse of the ground floor with loud rap music that practically shook the walls. It was dark, much more edgy, with the only source of light being the sporadic flashing of lights over by the DJ’s booth. You felt disoriented from the atmosphere, and the smell of weed and alcohol only further dazed you. 

“This is insane,” you barely hear Mina say beside you over the music as she looks around the expansive interior of the house. In between the brief flickering lights that lit up people’s faces, you register that Todo is grinning at her as though he was entirely satisfied by her reaction. 

You only make it a few steps inside, trailing behind Mina and Todo, before feeling the need to excuse yourself to get away from the intense environment for a second. “Hey, I think I’m going to use the restroom real quick. Todo, do you have any idea where it is?” You feel like you’re shouting just to be heard. 

He looks over his shoulder at you. “There are some downstairs but they probably have lines. You could try upstairs.” 

You give him an appreciative nod and head over to the base of the staircase at the right, glancing up before making your ascent. There didn’t seem to be anyone else upstairs, which surprised you, but you figured you were just in luck and began to walk up step by step until reaching the top. The music downstairs begins to sound muffled as you turn around the railing post and make your way to the left into the narrow hallway likely leading towards the bedrooms. There's a white door somewhere in the middle of the hallway that could only be either a closet or a bathroom. You wrap your hand around the cold metal door handle and twist, satisfied that it wasn’t locked.

The mumbling noises of people inside doesn’t register in your mind until you’ve already cracked the door open half-way, and your entire body recoils in the immediate rush of embarrassment washing over you as you take in the sight of two people, a man and a woman, getting handsy with one another in the bathroom. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” is all you manage to squeak out, blinking dumbly at the scene. 

You’re quick to avert your gaze and about to close the door, incredibly mortified by what’s just happened, when the familiar silhouette in front of you causes you to freeze. You slowly lift your line of sight from the bathroom floor until Gojo Satoru is looking you straight in the eye from where he has a girl on the bathroom counter clinging to his shirt. 

“I…” you stutter, face feeling immediately hot as you let go of the door handle and look away from his shocked face. “Sorry,” you say again, this time barely above a whisper, before turning on your heel and making your way down the hallway in such a hurry that you don’t even realize you’re going the wrong way. You hear a feminine voice echo something in the bathroom like what the fuck are you doing?, and then there’s footsteps following after you that sound faster than your own. Ignoring the call of your name, you practically storm into one of the bedrooms, entirely relieved that it was empty, and can only take a couple of steps inside before a hand grabs at your wrist. A chill runs down your spine from the contact.

“Wait, y/n,” Gojo says behind you from where he’s followed you inside, sounding like he’s out of breath. His hand is still holding onto you, keeping you still and you can feel the roughness of his calluses against your skin. When you turn around to face him, he’s close to you and you see his chest is heaving, his hair is disheveled, his shirt is wrinkled at the front and there’s a crease in his brow. 

Your eyes don’t stay on his for long before you’re looking away from him again. “I’m…I’m really sorry, that was really awkward,” you say with a forced laugh and an attempt to wiggle yourself free of his grip but he’s unrelenting. The image of his fingers sliding up that girl’s top was still burned in your vision and no amount of excessive blinking at the carpet beneath your feet seemed to make it disappear. 

“No, I’m sorry, I was supposed to lock…” his trails off and you notice there’s a rough quality to his voice, “that was just-, we were just-”

You finally brave yourself to look up at him and he somehow seems closer than before, his face just inches away from yours and his eyes briefly flickering to your lips before he meets your gaze with a tense expression on his face. You haven’t seen him look so flustered before, and you’ve certainly never heard him struggle this much to find his words either. 

His other hand rubs the back of his neck as he closes his eyes in what looks like frustration, then takes a deep breath to seemingly calm himself down before speaking again. “She’s…We’re just friends,” is all he manages to say. 

There’s a silence between the two of you as you blink at him and he stares at you, his thumb pressing into the skin of where his hand was still wrapped around your wrist. You try really hard to bite back the words you’re about to say, but no amount of willpower could’ve helped you. Your chin tips up, looking at him more decisively, and his gaze is flickering to your mouth again. “Just friends…can’t say I’ve ever tried to get my friends naked in the bathroom at a party before.” You didn’t understand why your tone came off so hostile, but it felt good to criticize his choice of words for some reason.

His lips press together, gaze narrowing slightly and eyebrows furrowing further at your words. He leans in closer to the point where your senses were entirely occupied by him and it was impossible to think of anything else. “Well, you weren’t supposed to see that.” His eyes are contrite but his tone is vexed. 

You relax your body language and use your other hand to forcefully slide his hand off of your wrist, encountering some resistance from him before he acquiesces. Your skin tingles from the absence of his touch and you take a step backwards away from him. His posture straightens slightly, eyes continuing to dart across the features of your face and wide in anticipation as though he was patiently waiting for you to say something that would put him at ease. 

“It’s fine,” you say, trying your best to keep your voice as level as possible, “I accidentally walked in on something I shouldn’t have. You don’t owe me any sort of explanation for it.” Gojo seems to tense up even further at your words, his expression briefly contorting into one of confusion before it reverts to concern again. 

You walk around him towards the bedroom door and see him in your periphery watching every step you take until you eventually exit the room. This time, you don’t hear his footsteps pursuing you from behind. It’s only when you make it past the bathroom, not even daring to take a look inside of it, and about halfway down the hallway that you unsteadily let out the breath you were holding in. Your hand takes its place over your chest in a flimsy attempt to calm your heart down as you quickly make your way down the stairs. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach and you knew you just had to get as far away from here as possible. 

You’re barely able to spot Mina from where she stood with Todo in a corner near the backyard screen door, and briefly notice that Nanami, Geto, as well as a few of their other teammates were clustered there too. You politely acknowledge their pleasant greetings to you as you approach Mina, pulling her to the side.

“Woah, hey, what’s going on?” She asks, stumbling a little bit and you let go of her sleeve. 

“I’m going to go home, not feeling well, I think I just got my period,” you easily come up with a lie, “Nobara says she’ll pick me up.” In truth, you were planning on just calling an Uber for home, but you knew that Mina wouldn’t let you go home by yourself. You didn’t want your confusing and heightened emotions ruining her night.

“Wait, are you sure? I’ll come with you,” she’s quick to say, taking a step towards you but you shake your head.

“No, it’s fine, stay here with Todo,” you demand, “and call me if you need me to pick you up. I’ll let you know when I’m home.” You give her a little hug and she’s standing there confused before hesitantly nodding, and then you make your way to the door. The loud music, flashing lights, and blurred faces around you were so intensely stimulating that when the cold air from outside finally hit your skin, you felt like you were human again. 

The Uber comes by in less than ten minutes as you wait for it on the sidewalk. The driver drops you off at the entrance of your apartment complex and the biting chill of the air has you wrapping your arms around yourself as you wait for the elevator to take you upstairs. Glancing down at your phone to check the time, you see a message from Mina asking if you were home yet. You also see that it’s nearly one in the morning.

Finally making your way inside your apartment, you lock the door behind you and text Mina that you’re home, then slide down with your back against the front door until you’re sitting on the floor. The heat inside was so comforting that you just spent a moment to warm yourself up and just breathe. 

Memories of your conversation with Gojo from just half an hour ago instantly come to the forefront of your mind and you’re shutting your eyes to try and repel the thoughts away. Still so embarrassed that you walked in on him making out with someone, your brain decides to mortify you even further by asking what if you had walked in a few moments later instead? What would you have seen then? 

You squish your cheeks between your hands defeatedly before letting out a sigh and drawing your legs in towards you, hugging your knees to your chest. You didn’t understand why you were so affected by what you saw. You’ve only met Gojo twice, and you knew even before you met him that he was that kind of person. He had a reputation of being involved with a lot of women, so his rather eager desire to explain himself to you just puzzled you even further. 

Standing up, you head over to your bed and flop down on it. Your wrist still burns with the memory of the heat of his hand, and all you can see behind the lids of your eyes when you close them is the sight of him so close to you, stealing glances at your lips. 

Somewhere along the night as you drifted in and out of sleep, Mina called to let you know that she was on her way home. When you hear her open the bedroom door and set her purse down on the nightstand near her bed, your body finally convinces you that it’s okay to rest, and that’s exactly what you do.

---

The weekend is over in the blink of an eye, simply not enough time to mope around in bed, and you’re walking out of your last class of the day on Monday. You check your phone pretty much every other minute to see if Gojo has sent you any messages regarding their new practice schedule for the week, which you’re sure he’s received by now, but there’s nothing. The last messages sent between the two of you were before the party on Friday, and an uneasy feeling has been settling in. You spent most of last week appreciating how helpful he was being so far, but you didn’t even consider the possibility that he could rescind his help at any time too.

You head over to the Department of Communication & Journalism building, making your way up the stairs until you reach the graduate division floor and walk down the hallway to Room 212. As you make your entry, a toasty and rich scent overtakes your senses. 

“Ah, y/n, hello! So good to see you, thanks for coming by. I missed seeing you last week,” you hear Utahime say as she sets down a cup of coffee for you on the conference table in the middle of the room.

“Sorry, I was just…very mentally occupied last week,”  you admit to her, setting your tote bag down on one of the chairs before taking the seat where the cup of coffee was placed, the fragrance instantly waking you up as you take a sip. “Thank you. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you, just working through my thesis,” she says with a sigh and takes the seat next to you. “Just a few more months…just a few more months, and I’m free!”

You smile at her and watch as she pulls out her laptop, the start-up noise chiming before she starts clicking away at the million tabs that were open. “Did you receive the email I sent you for the newsletter shots?” You ask.

Utahime was a 4th-year graduate student in journalism and was also the head of the school’s newsletter. She has so graciously allowed for Film Club photography shout-outs in every monthly issue for the past couple of years.

She nods. “I did,” she says, resting her elbow on the table and tapping her index finger to her chin, “how come I didn’t see any of your photos in there, though?”

You sigh, sulking your shoulders slightly as you peer down into the brown liquid of your cup and watch the steam evaporate. “I didn’t really take great pictures this month.”

“Aw, well are you working on anything right now?” She returns to clicking away at tabs.

“Yeah, I’ll be taking film photos out on the field of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni next week. It’s for an assignment,” you tell her and watch as her face lights up.

“That’s wonderful! That’s a pretty big gig, they usually only let professionals out on the field. How were you able to secure that?” Utahime asks you as she tips her head to the side.

“Ah…let’s just say I have some sort of deal with one of their players?” You say. Your heart drops a little when you remember the lack of communication from Gojo as of recently, wondering if he was able to get that referee permission for you.

“Which one?” Utahime asks with a teasing smile, leaning over to nudge you with her elbow.

“Gojo Satoru,” you say and then she’s pulling away from you and rolling her eyes, an annoyed look making its way onto her face. You let out a small laugh at her behavior. “Okay, well now I’m curious.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh as she peers beyond the window of the room. “I was his TA when he was just a wee-little freshman. He was always showing up late to class and trying to flirt his way out of completing assignments,” she grumbles, “is he still a little brat?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking way harder about her question than she had probably intended. “I don’t know…I don’t really know him all that well.” You look down at your hands. Despite the fact that you’ve only known Gojo for a short while, for some reason you felt like you did know him well. You knew the kinds of things that made him smile, you knew the look in his eyes when he was deep in thought about something. You knew what the heat from his body felt like, what the fragrance of his clothes smelled like. 

Utahime is silent for a moment as she studies you. “Hmm,” she’s humming next to you, “well, tell you what, send me your photos when you’re done with them. If they’re good, I’ll use your photos for the sports recap in the newsletter instead of the professional ones we get sent from the school. I can compensate you for them as well.”

Your eyes widen as you look at her, jaw dropping a bit as you blink in disbelief. “Utahime…you would do that for me?”

She gives you a smile and a wink. “Of course, talent helps talent. And it’s my newsletter, I can do whatever I want with it. Besides, you want to get into the school’s film graduate program, right? I’m sure it would look great on your application that you’ve had some of your portfolio published to the school’s official reports. The photos have to be good, though.” She points a finger at you and gives you a strict look.

You feel tears prickle in your eyes from her words, so overwhelmingly grateful for her support, and can barely whisper out a thank you before she’s rushing over to the other table to grab a tissue box and set it in front of you.

“Gosh, why do all my undergrads cry in my presence?” she complains as she pulls out a tissue and hands it to you.

You dab it to your eye. “Because you have such wholesome mom energy.” 

You say goodbye to Utahime after discussing a few more things and then leave the room. You check your phone and your heart skips a beat when you see Gojo’s name in your notifications.

|| 1:43PM Gojo Satoru: Hey, just wanted to let you know I was able to get that referee permission for you for next week

You let out a tiny gasp when you read his words then clutch your phone to your chest in relief. Utahime’s offer of the prospect of getting published in the school’s newsletter gave you a large sense of purpose, and you felt like it was time to take this assignment of yours extremely seriously to secure the opportunity. And Gojo was the one with the power to help you do that.

|| 1:52PM You: thank you so much, i really don’t know how to repay you

You sigh as you make your way to the stairs, grateful that you were getting some communication from him. The big game on the 28th was next Thursday, and you really needed to practice taking photos with your film camera. You open Instagram again to ask him for his practice schedule, but you see that he had sent you another message.

|| 1:54PM Gojo Satoru: No need to repay me, consider us even. Also sorry for the late notice, but we’re having a formal practice match in about an hour with one of the teams we played against earlier in the season. Do you want to come by?

After reading his message, you quickly shuffle your tote bag open and peer inside to see that you did indeed bring your film camera with you to campus today. Excited, you type out a response.

|| 1:55PM You: yes! i’ll hesd over right now

|| 1:55PM You: *head over

|| 1:55PM You: lol

You see little bubbles indicating typing in the left side corner.

|| 1:55PM Gojo Satoru: Meet me by the art sculpture, I’ll walk you over

You blink at the message for a few seconds, starting to type out a message before deleting it, and doing that a couple more times over. When someone tries to shuffle around you from behind, you notice you were standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs so you step away and lean against the wall. You press your lips together in consideration as you realize that today would be the first time you’re going to see Gojo again after that awkward interaction that you had with him at the party last Friday, and you were really not sure how you were going to feel having to be alone with him again.

|| 1:57PM You: that’s okay, i don’t want to trouble you

His response is instant.

|| 1:57PM Gojo Satoru: Just meet me there

Once you’ve made your way across campus, you spot Gojo sitting on the concrete barrier surrounding the art sculpture by the fields practically right in front of the please do not sit on the concrete barrier sign. His head is turned away from the direction you were approaching from, arms crossed at his chest and one of his legs impatiently bouncing up and down. You notice he’s wearing the school’s colors, a teal blue shirt and gray shorts that had some highlights of a sunset yellow, as well as gray athletic soccer shin socks and cleats. He looks so ridiculously sports boyfriend that you have to shake your head to try and physically fight the effect of how attracted you were to him.

He must’ve heard you approaching as you crossed the street towards him since he turned his head in your direction. He’s wearing a black sports headband across his forehead that’s pushing the hair up out of his face and you’re startled by the intensity of his blue eyes on you. When he stands up, his arms fall to his side, making you sad that you could no longer shamelessly stare at the way his biceps flexed when he had his arms crossed.

“Hey,” he says simply, staying perfectly still where he stood. 

There was only one way to dissolve an awkward situation, and that was to pretend like it never happened in the first place. You tip your head to the side, giving him a curious look before skipping right on up to him. “Hello, there,” you cheerfully say. He looks at you with a borderline annoyed expression.

“You’re in a good mood today,” he comments, his voice sounding deeper than usual. Almost tired. 

“Yes, very good mood,” you chirp as you walk past him, “I just got a very good offer.”

The sound of the bottom of his cleats on the sidewalk follow after you as you head in the direction of the softball batting cages. It's not long before he emerges at your side in your periphery. “What kind of offer?” You can tell from his tone that he was trying to restrain his curiosity. 

“Oh, you’ll see,” you say as you look up at him and smile. He gives you an irritated expression due to your lack of transparency but you continue to skip forward until you’ve made it to stairs that lead up to the grassy hills. 

Gojo’s about a step’s distance behind you as you lightly frolic across the land, your heavy tote bag bumping against your hip with every jump. You feel something fly out of it which halts you in your gleeful stride and look behind to where your bluetooth laptop mouse has fallen onto the grass right in front of Gojo. He’s sighing before crouching down to pick it up, then takes a step towards you and extends it out to you. When you glance up at him, he’s not looking at you and his face is hard to read. 

You grab the mouse from him, fingertips brushing against the skin of his palm, and he ever-so-slightly shivers at the touch. His gaze finally meets yours.

With a sigh, you toss your computer mouse back into your bag. “I’m trying really hard to not feel awkward around you right now, but you’re making it pretty difficult.” You were so used to feeling like he has the upper edge of conversation when you’re with him, but now you felt like you were the one with the power.

He raises an eyebrow at you and when you look at his hands, you notice he was apprehensively cracking his knuckles with his thumbs. “Maybe you wouldn’t feel awkward if you actually stayed to talk last Friday.”

You cross your arms across your chest, disliking his tone. “Stayed to talk? About what? How not close you are with your ‘friends’?” 

He tips his head up to the sky and closes his eyes, his brow furrowing like he was entirely frustrated by you, before he looks back down at you again. “If you don’t want to believe me, that’s fine, but what’s with you always running away whenever I try to talk to you?”

“I wasn’t feeling well that night,” you mumble to him as you turn away and continue to walk towards the practice field. It was the truth, you weren’t feeling well that night, and it was because seeing him kissing another girl made your stomach drop to the core of the Earth. But that wasn’t something you were going to admit to him. It wasn’t even something you were ready to admit to yourself. “Also, it’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I don’t care to believe you.”

“But why don’t you care?” he’s asking you, his voice sounding desperate now as he makes his way to your side again. He’s looking at you but you’re looking straight ahead.

You roll your eyes, continuing to march forwards. “Not everyone cares about your love life, Satoru. Contrary to what you might think.”

He jogs ahead a few steps, now walking backwards in front of you and you narrow your eyes at him. His tongue is poking at the inside of his cheek and then there’s a boyish grin on his face. “Say that again.”

“Say what again?” you ask.

“My name,” he says. 

You almost roll your eyes out of your head when you see his amused expression. “I seriously can’t believe this right now,” you’re muttering under your breath and walk past him down the large hill leading to the practice field, his gaze on you burning through your skin until you’re rubbing at your cheek with the back of your hand in a feeble attempt to physically wipe the blush away.

The practice field was much more crowded and busy than it was during the first practice you went to last week. Looking across to the other side, you see a group of men huddled near one of the benches, all of them wearing maroon-colored shirts with black shorts that have gold stripes running down the side of them. None of them were wearing jerseys, but you assumed they were wearing their school colors as some sort of distinguishing clothing that would help them during the practice match. 

“Satoru! Where the hell have you been?” You flinch upon hearing Coach Yaga’s stern voice nearby and you look over to where he had his arms crossed and glaring at Gojo through his thick sunglasses.

Gojo walks past you towards the benches and gives Coach Yaga a salute. “Sorry, sir, personal business.” He then makes his way over to the rest of his teammates that were huddled on this side of the field. There were a few tables located on the sidelines that had refillable water stations, bottles of Gatorade, towels and all sorts of other athletic gear. You walk up to one of the tables and fix the settings on your film camera before taking a snapshot of the items laid out on it. 

The atmosphere is light since this wasn’t an official match and so you spend some time fidgeting with your camera before they get started. You can only imagine how tense it must be during a proper tournament game at the actual stadium off-campus, the thought of thousands of people spectating from stands sending a shiver down your spine. Athletes were of a whole different breed, despite how wholesome and down-to-earth most of the UTokyo soccer players you’ve met so far were.

Eventually, Coach Yaga and the other coach from the opposing school blow their whistles, both acting as referees for the match, and the players scatter themselves across the field. You notice Gojo is at the center of the circle in the middle, his foot on top of the ball as he scans his eyes across the field to each of the players with a focused look in his eyes. He draws his foot back, and just when you think he’s about to kick it forwards to where he was looking, the back of his heel makes contact with the ball instead and it’s sent swiftly behind him towards Geto. Instantly, all the players begin to move across the field, some of the offensive opposing side charging towards Geto as he shuffles the ball between his feet before kicking it way ahead of him to another one of their teammates. You bring your camera up to your face and take a snapshot when one of the opposing team’s defenders makes an attempt to steal the ball. 

The play continues further, both teams playing a push-and-pull with the ball. Gojo makes an attempt at a goal before the opposing team’s goalie lunges for the ball that was flying in the air straight towards the net, catching it in his arms and then crashing down onto the ground. Somewhere along the intense match, the coaches call half-time and you’re shocked by how fast the first half went by. 

Some of the players retreat to the benches to quench their thirst and wipe the perspiration off their faces with their towels, while others remain on the green expanse to pace around while catching their breath. Your attention is drawn to Gojo who stood at the center with his hands on his hips and breathing visibly heavily. He leisurely shuffles the ball between his feet with an innate rhythm before passing it off towards Geto who stood a few feet away from him. Gojo pulled his headband off of his face, his hair falling over his forehead onto the sheen layer of sweat above his eyes. With each breath, his chest rises and falls, lips parted in a display of exertion, and then he grabs at the hem of his shirt to lift it to his face, exposing his toned torso, as he wipes away the sweat at his temples. Your eyes widen at the sight, almost entranced as a wave of arousal suddenly consumes you, before he releases his grip on the fabric and it falls back down. He pushes his hair back up out of his face with one of his hands, the other securing the headband back onto his forehead with a snap, and the muscles of his arms tense fluidly with every motion. 

You quickly look away from him, afraid he'll catch you staring, and blink at the grass as you notice the fast beating of your heart. Coach Yaga's whistle blows, causing you to look back up again. Players were making their way back onto the field and Gojo found his position at the center again. His eyes darted across the field, making their way onto the faces of each player, and then they eventually landed on you. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards slightly into a small smile before he's looking back down at the ball by his feet. And then they start the kickoff.

UTokyo ends up winning 3-1, and by the end of the match the sun is starting to set, painting the sky beautiful hues of purple and orange. You lean over to pick your things up off the grass as the players make their final retreat to the benches, and you gently place your film camera back into its case when Gojo’s voice next to you makes you jump.

“Hey. Please don’t run off,” he says. When you turned to look at him, he was still breathing a bit fast and he had a flushed, almost serene, look across his face. “Give me your phone.” He extends his open palm out to you. 

“My phone?” You ask him, reaching for where it was located in your back pocket and pulling it out. He nods without any further explanation. You place it in his palm and he’s tapping away at it before handing it back to you. When you look down, you notice he gave a random number a call.

“That’s my number. Save it,” he says. You blink at him. His expression is soft for a moment and then he’s turning around and away from you, heading over to where his teammates were crowded around one of the tables and giving each other pats on the back.

You tip your head to the side to watch him as a couple of his teammates sling their arm around his neck and smack his chest, masculine laughter and jokes filling the air. You can’t help but smile before you pick up your things and start making your way up the hill away from the field, back towards the heart of campus. 

---

The following days of the week where you don’t see Gojo play soccer seems like a waste, because why weren’t you spending every single day of your life watching him play soccer? You sigh to yourself at the question as you use clothing pins to hang up the film photos you took up onto a wall in your school’s photo lab. You finished developing the photos from Monday’s practice match, only to realize that you accidentally took them on one of your black-and-white rolls instead of full-color. You step back to take a look at all the images you had clipped onto the string pinned to the walls, snapping a shot of the collage with your phone, before pulling them all back down and stuffing them into a Manila folder. 

The only time the photo lab wasn’t bustling with other film & photography majors was usually after sunset, but by the time you finished having dinner with one of your friends on campus, you had made it there around 7PM. By the time you leave and make it to your parked car, it’s pitch black outside. As you step inside your car and turn the key to ignite the engine, the windshield wipers automatically swiping as the control lights inside come to life, the clock on your dashboard reads 10:37PM. 

The GPS for some reason prompts you to take an alternative route back to your apartment that avoids the freeway in an attempt to save you from twenty minutes of traffic, and you consider what to do for a moment before the exhaustion in your bones convinces you to take the allegedly faster way home.

As you begin to head in the unfamiliar direction, the excitement you had to make it home as soon as possible slowly starts to dwindle more and more as the streets morph from well-lit and bustling with people to dark and surrounded by trees instead. What used to be a three-lane street turned into one, and you count the seconds between every passing car you see coming by in the opposite direction. You’re worried when your counting makes it past sixty seconds. 

You turn your music up in your car to distract yourself from the fear of driving down the secluded and dark road. There was a slight fog settling up ahead in front of you to where you could only see clearly about thirty feet ahead. You spot something on the road, blinking rapidly to focus your vision, and then your eyes widen when you realize what it was. Rocks.

You’re instantly swerving your car to the side, attempting to deftly avoid the scattered rocks but unfortunately you drive over a few of them, causing your tire to pop and you let out a scream when you lose handle on your car. One of the rocks flies up and hits your windshield, cracking the glass, and suddenly you’re driving up over the curb to the right before you finally regain control of your car and swerve back onto the road, slamming on the brakes.

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your body, and you grip onto the steering wheel while you try to regain your breath. Your windshield had a large crack in it, large enough to where the cold air from outside was whistling its way inside your car, and you were slanted in your seat due to the punctured tire at the front. As you took deep breaths, you noticed how alone you were on a dimly lit street where you hadn’t seen a single car in more than five minutes, fear and anxiety surging through your body. Your hands reach for your phone, shakily turning it on and exhaling in relief when you see that you have reception, then call the emergency telephone line.

“Hello, how can we help you?” a feminine voice on the other end of the line says.

“Hi, um,” you say, voice sounding shaky, “I just got a flat tire on Musashi road, about five miles from the Main Street intersection. I don’t have a spare on me, and my windshield is cracked too…could you send roadside assistance?”

“Yes, absolutely,” the woman says kindly and begins to take down some information from you. “Thank you, ma’am. Unfortunately, there has been a big accident on the freeway, so many of the tow-trucks and officers have been dispatched to that area. It may take about an hour for help to arrive. Are you able to call someone to come stay with you as you wait?”

“Oh…” You press your lips together in thought. “Yes, I should be able to.” After working out a bit more logistics with the woman on the other line, you hang up and then you’re scrolling through your contacts. You first call Mina’s line, which goes straight to voicemail, and then you remember that she was out of town for tonight and half of tomorrow visiting her family. You call Nobara, who also doesn’t pick up, and then a couple of your other friends who go straight to voicemail as well. You start to panic slightly before calling your friend Maki who lives two hours away.

“Hello?” You hear her voice say when she picks up.

“Maki! Oh my gosh, thank you for picking up,” you say to her through the phone, your hand on your chest as you sigh. You explain your situation to her and she’s instantly providing you with soothing words. 

“Is there no one that can come stay with you? I feel awful that I’m so far away,” she says.

“It’s okay, they said that help will be here in maybe fifty minutes now…I just really wanted to talk to someone,” you say, peering out into the darkness of the night. You’re still shocked you haven’t seen a single car drive by in the past ten minutes. You pull your phone from your face to check the time and see a notification on your phone that says 5% battery remaining. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Maki asks worriedly.

“My phone is running out of battery…” you say with a defeated tone. Your anxiety starts to rise in your chest again. “I don’t know if I can stay on the line.” You scroll through your contacts again, finger halting the screen when your eyes land on another name. “I…I think I have someone else I can try calling.”

“Good, try that. I don’t want you to be stuck out there with a dead phone and a flat tire. Let me know if this person doesn’t pick up, okay?” She’s saying to you and you send her your location before hanging up.

You’re breathing heavily from fear when a particularly harsh gust of wind pushes more cold air through the crack of your windshield. Pulling your phone from your face, you click on the name in your contacts and bring your phone to your ear. It rings once, twice, almost a third time before you hear a click and then a voice.

“Y/n?” Gojo’s voice calls out, sounding surprised. 

Hearing his voice immediately causes a wave of relief to wash over you and you lay back in your seat, having to muffle the abrupt sob that threatens to erupt from the tightness in your throat. “Hi,” you whisper.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Mm…no,” you admit to him, sniffling slightly and swiping at the stray tear that rolls down your cheek with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’m just a bit scared right now.” Your voice cracks towards the end of your sentence and you silently berate yourself for not mustering enough emotional strength at the moment. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his voice starting to sound uneasy. 

“I was driving down this road, it was dark, I couldn’t really see much…but I ended up driving over these rocks and my tire punctured. I called for roadside assistance and they said it would take about an hour for help to arrive,” you ramble, “I tried calling Mina, and some of my other friends to come and wait with me, but-” You run out of breath to finish your sentence and you’re sniffling again. 

“Send me your location, I’m heading over right now,” he says and you hear what sounds like keys jingling in the background along with some other shuffling noises, “can you stay on the line?”

You pull your phone from your ear and see that you’re at 3% now before sending him your location. “No…my phone is running out of battery.” 

He’s silent for a second on the other end. “It says I’ll be there in twelve minutes. Just…hang tight, okay? Make sure your doors are locked.” 

You nod before remembering that he can’t see you, so you say I will. He’s hesitant to hang up on you but when your phone flashes from 3% to 2%, you tell him you don’t have much of a choice and then he’s giving you another word of caution before reluctantly hanging up. You’re all alone to your thoughts in your car again, shaking from the anxiety and blinking tears away. 

The twelve-minute wait felt so long, and eventually Gojo texts you that he’s one minute away when your phone is at 1% battery. You see headlights approaching behind your car in your rearview mirror, the first sight of another human being you’ve seen in probably the past thirty minutes stepping out of the driver’s seat and you immediately recognize his silhouette. He walks up to the passenger side door and tips his head down so he’s visible through the window. At the sight of him, you finally release the breath you were holding in before opening your car door and stepping outside. You both look at each other across the top of your car and you notice him letting out a deep breath of his own as his shoulders relax at the sight of you. 

He makes his way wordlessly around the front of your car to you and he’s studying your face intently. You look away from him when you realize he could probably tell that your eyes were puffy and that you had been crying. From your periphery, you see the back of his hand reach out when he’s right in front of you, hesitating slightly before it briefly brushes against your cheek, dabbing at a tear that you must’ve missed. His hand is warm against your skin and the sudden desire to hug him consumes every single fiber of your being, but when you look up at him, the soft expression on his face renders you still. 

“Thank you for coming,” you’re whispering to him.

He lets out a short comical exhale through his nose. “I wasn’t going to not come. What kind of person do you think I am?”

You shiver as another gust of wind passes through, crossing your arms across yourself. Gojo slips the jacket he was wearing off, revealing a beige sweater underneath, and then he’s circling around you to place it over your back. It’s cozy and it smells like him.

You’re about to voice your concern for him but his voice behind you cuts you off. “I run warm, don’t worry.” 

He walks around to the front of your car, bending over to the side to assess the flat tire at the front, his hands shoved into his pockets. You pull his jacket around you tighter. “Damn, the tread on your tires is horrendous. No wonder. You should really check on them more often.” He straightens himself up and peers at the crack across your windshield. “And that’s definitely not gonna be cheap to fix.”

You sigh in annoyance, his casual tone causing your eye to twitch slightly, but when you noticed your heart was calm and your breathing was normal again, you looked at him with the realization that him just being here managed to soothe you. 

He looks back over at you with a considerate expression. “Do you want to sit in my car? It’s chilly out here.”

You press your lips together before shaking your head. “I feel like I need the fresh air.”

Gojo’s walking over to the patch of grass on the pavement at the side of the road and sits down on the curb. He pats the spot next to him with an awaiting look on his face and you make your way to him, sitting to his left. He looks down at the distance you’ve put between the two of you, almost three feet, and he’s sighing before scootching closer to you. “Don’t be greedy with your body heat. I said I run warm, not that I’m a furnace.”

His shoulder brushes against yours and his knee bumps against your thigh as he gets comfortable. You bring your legs closer to you and wrap your arms around them, resting your chin on top of your knee. Gojo was leaning back onto his outstretched arms behind him, legs extended in front as he tipped his head back up to look at the sky. You look over at him. His gaze slowly shifts from one point in the sky to the other, and you wonder what he’s mapping with his eyes. 

“Thank you for getting the referee permission for me,” you say, realizing you never thanked him in person. “I’m excited to take photos out on the field next week.”

“Sure thing, my freaky little photographer. I’m sure you are,” he chimes. 

You stick your bottom lip out in an annoyed pout. “So, we’re even now.”

He looks over at you and smiles. His blue eyes were a bit darker underneath the starry sky with less light to reflect off of them, and the quality made them look gentle. “No, you’ve gotta make sure Mina stays interested in Todo.” 

You can tell he’s just joking, but you respond as if he’s serious anyways. “That was never part of the agreement,” you say, “besides, I don’t really think that’s necessary. She seems to be pretty taken with him already.”

He laughs. “And you’re not worried about that?”

“What’s there to worry about?” You ask.

“I don’t know, the fact they hit it off so fast?” He shrugs and you feel the friction of the movement against your shoulder.

“Hmm, no. Mina’s a smart girl, she’s good at sniffing out those red flags,” you say assuredly before lifting a suspicious eyebrow at him, “should I be worried? He's your friend. Enlighten me.”

Gojo shakes his head musingly at your concern. “Todo’s a good guy,” he says in a soft voice.

“He’s not on the soccer team, right? I didn’t see him the past couple of times I was on the field,” you say with realization.

“Nah, he’s just a mad lad I met in my freshman year econ class. We’ve been friends ever since,” he says, swaying his knee from side to side. “He’s the one that got me to join the frat.”

You two are silent for a moment, listening to the noise of the wind through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. The previous anxiety you had from the night completely dissipated into peacefulness instead, and the man beside you was responsible for that shift. 

“Can you tell me what that offer was that you were so excited about earlier this week?” he asks.

You look up to the sky briefly, trying to remember what he was talking about. “Oh. I might be able to publish the photos I take of the game next week to the sports recap in the school newsletter,” you say.

He turns his head to look at you, eyes widened. “Woah, seriously? That’s so cool. Can you make sure I look hot?”

You roll your eyes and go back to resting your chin on your knees. “Sure.” 

A comfortable silence settles before he’s speaking again. “What inspired you to be a film photographer?” He’s turning his body so he’s facing you a bit more directly. 

“Well, the end goal is film movie making…but my professor says that it’s important to understand the art of film photography before that,” you say, twiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “He says that ‘if a filmmaker cannot master the single frame shot, then how can they possibly put together a film composed of a million of them’?” 

Gojo is humming beside you and nodding in agreement. He turns away from you to face forward again and he starts tapping his foot on the pavement of the road. “Huh. That’s kind of similar to something coach says during drills.” 

You glance over at him, a little surprised. He continues to stare forward with a somewhat innocent expression on his face, and then you can practically see the moment another question pops up into his head. 

“Why don’t you make your Instagram public? Your photos would probably get a lot more views or likes that way,” he says in an excited tone, like he’s cracked some code. 

You let out a small laugh and bury your face into your knees, your voice sounding muffled when you speak. “I did have it public for a while. Until a troll spammed a bunch of hate comments on my posts and I quickly switched it to private after that.” Saying it out loud, you felt a bit silly. You’re apprehensive as you say the next few words. “I guess I’m scared that I’m not good enough to be acknowledged or successful, and that somehow other people will see that truth before I can.”

“Oh come on, y/n,” he’s saying beside you, gently nudging your arm with his elbow. The contact causes your breath to catch in your throat. “You just have to go for it. You can’t accomplish anything if you don’t face your fears.” When you watch those words leave his mouth, you notice he now has a thoughtful expression as he stares ahead to the other side of the road.

Another beat of silence goes by. “Why did you start playing soccer?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a long time as he blinks, to the point where you’re unsure if he even heard your question, but then he finally answers. “My dad used to play in college. He introduced me to the sport when I was younger and I fell in love with it.” Your perk up slightly and tip your head to the side in curiosity. He’s looking down at his lap now.

“That’s really wonderful, Satoru. Was he also center forward in college?” When you ask him this, you don’t miss the way his eyebrows pinch together for a split second before his expression relaxes again. 

“Yeah, he was,” he responds, “he got injured in his last year, though. Never got to play after that.” There’s an inflection at the end of his sentence that makes you think he’s about to say more but he doesn’t. 

Your face softens when you see him stare down at the curb with a slightly troubled expression. In a moment of tenacity, you place your hand on his thigh and his eyes widen when he sees the movement before he’s looking over at you.

“I’m sure he’s really proud of you,” you say softly, your hand reaching up to brush a few strands of his hair away from his eyes. Both of you are shocked at the intimate gesture and you’re quick to withdraw your hand. 

Your faces are close, his side still pressed against yours, and neither of you break eye contact. You take a moment to study the handsome features of his face and your heart aches a little. The cold air has you licking your lips and Gojo’s eyes dart to them, gaze lingering, and you blink slowly when he leans forward slightly. Blue eyes find yours again and he stills himself, searching your face for something, and when he doesn’t see it he continues to lean forward and you lean towards him too. And then his lips press against yours, so chaste and so light that it’s possible you could have imagined it, but just when you feel his warm hand cup your face and he’s about to deepen the kiss, a loud honking noise startles the two of you and you both jump, pulling away from one another. You see Gojo’s face illuminated with bright golden lighting as he winces and holds up one of his hands in front of his face to shield himself from being blinded by it. 

You turn your head to the left towards the source of the light and see a tow truck approaching. “Hey! Is this the flat and windshield crack?” you hear the driver shout out from where his head was stuck out the window.

You’re speechless, cheeks feeling flushed from the realization that Gojo had just kissed you, and you turn to look at him. He silently stands up with a weary exhale and a calm expression on his face and then shoves his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, it is.” He makes his way over to the tow truck and you hear him make conversation with the driver as well as the man in the passenger seat. You’re still sitting stunned on the curb, bringing your fingers up to gently touch your lips that were still searing from earlier. Gojo’s suddenly standing in front of you and you’re staring at his legs before you tip your head back up to look at him.

“Do you have any valuables in your car?” he asks, jerking his head in the direction of your car.

“Ah…my phone and my tote bag,” you say. He crouches down in front of you, earnest eyes level with yours, and his hand reaches into the pocket of his jacket where you had stashed your keys. He removes only your car key from the ring, handing the set of other keys back to you, and then he’s unlocking your car to get your stuff out of it.

You remain on the curb, watching as Gojo handles the entire interaction with the tow truck helpers. When they’ve successfully anchored your car to the tow truck and one of the men comes around to shake Gojo’s hand, you see him reach into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and handing the man some cash. You stand up in a bit of a panic and head over. 

The tow truck is already pulling away with your car from the curb when you make it in front of Gojo. He hands you a business card with the towing company information on it and then looks down at you with a mild demeanor, letting out a long exhale. “Ready to go home? You’ve had a long night.”

Exhaustion suddenly consumes your entire being and you hesitantly nod. 

The interior of Gojo’s car is nice. It’s clean, smells like him and pine, with nice leather seats that have warmers. You’re still wearing his jacket, clenching it tightly around you, as he inputs your apartment address into his GPS and starts to drive you home.

Neither of you say a word to one another during the ride. You watch his hand tighten its grip at the top of the steering wheel occasionally as he drives. He turns his car into the entrance of your apartment complex and parks in the loading zone. You watch as he makes his way out of the car to the passenger side door, opening it for you. You step outside and thank him.

“It’s okay, I’ll head inside from here,” you say, already feeling like you’ve caused him enough trouble. You abruptly remember that Mina isn’t home and the realization that you’ll be all alone tonight creates a hollow feeling in your chest.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Come on,” he says, walking past you to make his way to the elevator and pressing the up button. It dings before immediately opening and he walks inside like he’s the one that lives here. He places a hand out to hold the door sensors when he sees that you don’t follow him inside. You jump out of the mild trance you were in and quickly rush in before he withdraws his hand and the elevator door shuts. 

“Which floor?” He asks, finger hovering over the control pad. You tell him three. 

Once you reach the third floor, you step out into the hallway and he follows suit. Your apartment was just seven units down towards the right and the two of you eventually made it to the door. You turn around to look up at him. His expression becomes slightly distressed and when you don’t say anything to him, he shoves his hands further into his pockets and sways back and forth slightly. 

“Alright, mission accomplished, I got you home,” he says with a forced jovial tone, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. You notice he does that when he seems nervous about something.

Your mind recalls the kiss from earlier, the feeling of Gojo’s lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed up against you in the cold, the tender way his hand held your face still so he could have more of you, only for it to be cut short. Your heart is beating fast in your chest and your cheeks flush with warmth. He’s looking down at you intently and you’re looking up at him pensively. 

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself. Not yet.

Your hands reach into your tote bag to pull out the keys to your apartment. “Yes, home.” He watches you jingle the metal in your hands. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he says and he takes a step back. Turning around, you push your key into the keyhole with shaking hands, turning it, and open the door to your apartment, letting yourself inside. You look at him from the entryway with the door still ajar. 

“Good night, take it easy,” he says to you.

“Thanks, you too.” And then he’s out of your sight as you shut the door.

You lean back against the front door, letting out a sigh and biting down on your lip, the thumping of your heart pertinent throughout your entire body. There was a lingering truth to all of the emotions that you’ve been having recently. It followed you in the early hours of the morning, it followed you as you tried to fall asleep at night, it was present in the silence, lurking in the dark, and it was there with you tonight for every second that he was by your side.

You had feelings for Gojo Satoru. 

a/n. thanks sooo much for reading and i hope you enjoyed aaa idk this week felt off for my writing for some reason but i heavily edited it so i hope it came out okay in the end.

➸ take me to chapter six!

tag list: @who-can-touch-my-boob @getitsatoru

[djpisskink]

the experience of being schizoid makes me very sympathetic for people on the aspectrum because wtf you guys are constantly either being questioned, invalidated, having your boundaries breached, or straight up given up on and discarded by allos/platos because they cannot wrap their minds around engaging into even mere colleagueship with someone if there is no chance they will ever experience feelings that coincide with their ideas of what a relationship should be like. and then when you try to make a space to discuss those experiences you get talked over or people shift the focus of the conversation to something unrelated or they're like "well not ALL of us" like what the fuck i really fucking feel you guys. can't even get the bare minimum of respect around here.

[pomefioredove]

hello hello! i see that the headcanon requests are open, so i have arrived 🐺🐺 i'd like to request the housewardens + chenya, neige and ortho with a reader that's mute! i feel like this would be an interesting thing to go off of. feel free to write it as something reader gained after a certain event, or as an illness that they were born with. platonic would be great, but i think romantic would be absolutely adorable too (minus ortho obviously) so go wild, do whatever you want >:) if this is fine for you to write of course!! love your writing, youre my favourite blog on tumblr hehe (runs away)

thank you so much!! and ofc ofc. I'm writing this based off my own experiences with being semiverbal so if I get something wrong,,, that's on me 😔

summary: nonspeaking reader type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, che'nya, leona, azul, kalim, vil, neige, idia, ortho (platonic), malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

I think Riddle is more adaptive than others give him credit for

it's not like there's any rule about not speaking

(and if there was, he would make an exception for you. he's not completely unreasonable)

I can see him learning sign language with you

and if that's not your thing, he'll figure something else out

he's a fast learner, after all

and he wants to make you comfortable, too. not that he'd ever outright admit it...

(obvious favoritism)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Che'nya is always quick on his feet

or... on air?

anyway

that means that he isn't one to let the absence of conversation stop him from his usual mischief

and he does love charades...

it's almost like he can read your thoughts. or your... hands? expressions?

whenever someone is giving you a hard time, they miiight just end up talking back to a floating head

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona actually never really... brings it up

before he had the full story, he just figured you were shy around him

(which went straight to his head, of course)

so he was already used to it when he found out it's not something you can control

and... he treats you no different for it

he knows you're not stupid or rude just because you're not yapping all the time

and if anyone else gave you a hard time about it... they'd be answering to him

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

no worries with Azul

I mean, the guy can really do it all

sign language, pen and paper, text-to-speech, body language...

he's rather adaptable, and, trust me, being unable or unwilling to speak won't stop him

the offer to give you the voice of a beautiful singer is still on the table... but he can't blame you for not taking the deal

of course

in the meantime, you can come to him for anything and he'll help you out

on the house <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim's heart is in the right place

is he disappointed you won't be able to talk and sing and cheer with him? a little

you're used to the disappointment, unfortunately

but he doesn't give up so easily

or... at all

no singing? he's handing you an instrument

no talking? no problem, he knows you're still listening!

no hummin, shouting, cheering? he can make enough noise for the both of you

he makes sure you're included in everything

very sweet

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil has high expectations, but he isn't unreasonable

if you can't talk, you can't talk, and that's final

that doesn't excuse you from everything else in his strict regimen, though

what may be a weakness to others is a strength to him

you can improve yourself tenfold by focusing on what you can do rather than what you can't

writing, dancing, music...

however you choose to express yourself, he's very supportive

much like Kalim, he includes you in every conversation, every decision, every yes/no question

he's pretty great

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Neige! Neige is a sweetie

I like to think of Neige as someone who's actually quite timid in person, despite his career

it's probably your quietness that draws him to you in the first place

he is so very supportive

he's the kind of introvert to suddenly become extroverted when someone needs help

"excuse me, they asked for no pickles" type of guy

he'll hold your hand through everything if you need it, and remain by your side if you don't

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ortho and Idia are probably the best people to have on your side

Idia just feels so much more... comfortable around you, since he struggles with speaking, himself

he'll let you use his tablet if you need it to speak

...and then he'll get you one of your own, so he doesn't have a heart attack when you accidentally switch tabs

he'll even program a custom voice or two for you

Ortho is a walking translator for you

with a database full of information on body language and expression, he can determine your emotional state in a single glance

he's happy to help in any way he can, of course!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

at some point, Malleus needs a shirt that says "#1 Prefect Defender"

you haven't said a single word to him but if anything happened to you he would curse everyone in this room and then himself

(he means well, I promise)

he's never minded, nor questioned your silence

certain fae communicate through lights or movement rather than sound, so it isn't even anything strange to him

you fit right in at Diasomnia

and you're welcome to stay here for as long as you please

(hint hint)

[mrs-g0th1ka]

◇Astrology Observations With Gothica◇

♡Hello my loves!! Welcome to another zodiac yap session. What I say may or may not apply, take what resonates and leave what does not. Please Enjoy♡

________________________________________

I've noticed that Gemini, Libra, Aquarius 12th housers attract air suns or are attracted to air suns.

Scorpio Mars are really drawn to Aries mars, these two Mars signs together can't keep their hands off of each other. They will have disagreements but will ultimately make up in a passionate, loving manner.

Pisces and aquarius always have some deep lore that only those two know about. A Pisces and Aquarius friendship reminds me of two fairies floating around whispering to each other.

I know people say that Fire signs are hard to pin down, but have yall seen the way a fire sign acts with air signs?? I've seen sagittarius,Leo, Aries obsess over air signs who are also hard to pin down, I think they love the chase that air signs are willing to participate in.

Libra 11th and 12th house natives tend to have friends who are secretly jealous or in love with them. I have a Libra 11th house and past friends have confessed their feelings for me but way too late.

Virgo risings have the most beautiful facial structure to me!!!

Libra suns are usually seen as promiscuous when in reality they are so rooted in their feminin that it makes others uncomfortable.

{ex: Doja cat, Halsey, Bella Hadid, kim kardahsian, Cardi B }

I've noticed that rappers with prominent air in their charts are really good at their craft.

Gemini Mercury

Libra Mercury

Aquarius Mercury

Stay away from people with signs in your 8th house. They either hate you or want to be you, and neither one is good to deal with.

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

~ Placements in Astrology That Are Naturally Flirty~ (In my opinion)

Venus 1H/3H /5H/11H

Moon-Venus aspects

Moon in Leo, Libra, Aquarius

Mercury-Mars aspects

ASC- venus aspects

ASC in Gemini, Leo, Libra, Scorpio

Mars in the 1H/5H/9H

Jupiter in 5H/7H

Venus-Jupiter aspects

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

•Zodiac Placements That Feel The Most Misunderstood and why •

Aquarius: Aquarius placements or people with many Aquarius placements are able to see the future. Not many people are able to think as far-fetched as the Aquarius person, so the Aquarius person tends to get their ideas pushed aside. This causes the Aquarius to feel misunderstood and somewhat isolated. They eventually see their victory when they follow their own intuition.

Scorpio: This one is pretty self explanatory, scorpio placements tend to get a bad rep off rip. People judge scorpios specifically (Rising/ 1st house/ sun/ 11th house) because they are the darkness many people are running from. An evolved scorpio isn't afraid to be the darkness, hence why they come off as intense and powerful even if they don't see it themselves.

Capricorn: Capricorn placements can carry a somewhat cold aura. They don't mean to it's just how they are. This cold aura is very alluring as well. People want to take a look but are too afraid, yet they don't know how endearing and warm a capricorn can actually be. Capricorn placements when they like you are the most caring people, they are the sister sign to cancer after all.

Sagittarius: Sagittarius placements find themselves being misunderstood simply because they are blunt people. They are so passionate and honest that people think they're being cold or mean. They're logical thinkers. They will tell you exactly what's on their minds because they refuse to lie to their loved ones. ♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

☆Thank you for reading my zodiac yap session!!! This was super fun as usual. Stay sexy n hot☆

[jarofstyles]

The Favor 6

Hello and welcome to the favor part 6! We are getting into juicier stuff now.. let me know your thoughts! 😈😈😈

Check out our Patreon for early access to the next part and 170+ exclusive writings!

The Favor masterlist

WC- 5.1k

Warnings- exhibitionism, slight degradation, teasing In public, BDSM elements, mention of unhealthy relationship, Dom/sub dynamic, choking, spanking, mention of edging hehe

——-

Leaving Harry’s house was difficult. 

Even knowing she was going to see him on Wednesday for lunch and she was staying the weekend next week, something felt so wrong about going home to her empty place and just continuing about her week like she hadn’t just had a mind blowing experience during the weekend. 

Harry had taken incredible care of her. Not only had he bathed with her, tied her hair up in a scrunchie he had, washed her body with a soft washcloth and fed her fruit from his fingers, but he’d thrown one of his shirts over her body and brought her into a freshly made bed where he had her lay on her tummy and he rubbed salve into her ass that was still very much sore. He’d taken care of her, brushed her hair back and cuddled her as they spoke about what they did and didn’t like in the scene- which was overwhelmingly positive. Y/N had found out she especially liked his hand around her throat and when he’d pressed her face into the bed like he had at the end. She wasn’t sure about the edging quite yet but she was open to trying different scenarios and it was hard to admit that, but Harry’s overwhelmingly sweet reception of her hesitance made up for the nerves. He had said overstimulation was his choice over the latter in terms of subs, but he liked to edge himself more than anything and was open to trying different scenarios. Orgasm denial seemed more like a punishment to her, which he noted very clearly. 

The next morning she’d woken up with a freshly showered Harry who had finished his workout when she was sleeping. He’d woken her to check on her bum, but somehow it had turned dirtier. With Harry’s fingers tucked inside of her cunt, easily wet for him as he coaxed an orgasm from her with her hands pinned above her head and her body writhing under him, his palm slapping over her clit and her head light as he licked his digits clean afterwards. 

He’d made breakfast of eggs, toast and yogurt parfaits, remembering her affinity for strawberries from the night prior. He’d also remembered her chamomile tea, making sure it was steeped by the time they’d gotten settled in his dining room, Buttons sitting at her bare feet to keep them warm. 

Leaving had been hard, the man quick to give her a squeeze and kiss to the forehead after walking her to the car and putting her duffle in her backseat. He’d promised to text her during the week, which he had, but it didn’t do much to help her missing him that night. If anything, she felt lonelier than she had before she even met him.

Speaking of, Danny had been really irritating her. He’d barely texted her that weekend but as the week went on, he’d been texting her about some sports games, gossip at his job, shit that she really had no interest in. Not once had he made a real attempt to ask how she was doing. He made no attempt to see her, which was both a blessing and a curse. She wasn’t sure how she’d react to his touch right now. The thought had been floating in her mind if he truly grasped how intimate of a thing she was doing with Harry. If he knew, if he cared, even. The longer it was going on, the less she felt steady in a relationship she had been so desperate to keep afloat just 3 weeks ago. 

His name sent a sense of annoyance through her when she saw it on her home screen as she put her car in park, but the name above his had her tummy erupting in butterflies. 

Harry: Hi, love. I’m here, I got a table outside if that's alright?

Y/N: I just pulled in!!! Sorry a train was going over the tracks again. So annoying. 

Y/N: I’ll be there in just a minute :) 

Fluffing her hair, she adjusted her lip stain and hoped she didn’t look too disheveled as she got out of her car. Harry had brought up seeing her halfway through the week and she’d been looking forward to it since she left in the early evening on sunday. It’d only been 3 days and yet she felt giddy, walking into the patio and seeing Harry sitting and watching her as she approached. 

The outfit today was a simple navy dress with a tie in the back. Professional enough but casual to the touch, making it one of her favorite dresses to wear. It highlighted her body but in an appropriate way. It showed the dip in her wait and the flare of her hip, hitting right at the knee. Her brown flats were boring, sure, but she didn’t need blisters today. 

The tall man stood up to greet her, immediately wrapping her up in a hug she didn’t realize she’d desperately needed. Y/N had always been a pretty independent person in her life, not one to rely on people. She didn’t lean on anyone, kept mostly to herself and found it hard to let go- which is why she thought this weekend was probably so impactful for her. Letting Harry make the decisions had felt so good, so freeing, that she was craving it yet again. 

“Hi.” She mumbled into his chest, melting into him as he rubbed his hand against her back. His embrace was warm and safe, enough of a relaxing effect to make some of the tension she’d been carrying melt off her shoulders. 

“Hi, Darling.” He hummed, pressing his lips to her forehead. A sweet greeting that the sweet girl deserved. “Y’alright?” It was a trick question because he knew the answer. 

“Yeah, just been a bit stressed.” She admitted. Harry didn’t want to admit just how relieved that she was giving him honesty over the fake ‘I’m fine’ smile she would be sure to give everyone else. 

“Yeah?” He frowned, smoothing his hands over her shoulders. “M’sorry about that. Why don’t you sit down and we can talk about some of that? I got you a smoothie.” The girl visibly perked up, looking at the pink drink on the table. 

“Strawberry Banana?” She questioned, thanking him for pulling out her seat for her. At his hum of affirmation, a weird feeling settled in her stomach. It was so odd for someone to notice the little things about her. Harry remembered the smoothie she’d gotten with him last time, he remembered her general love of strawberries, and he’d seemingly be interested in knowing the intricacies of her stress. It felt a bit weird, maybe, to be cared for on this level by someone. Someone who wasn’t even her boyfriend. “Thank you.” Her eyes were lighter as she watched him sit down across from her, his gaze locked on her face as she took a sip of her smoothie. 

“You’re welcome.” It had been the hope that she’d like it. He’d been keeping his little notes in his head about things she liked. Y/N had quickly become a bit of a staple in his life and he liked to make her smile, even with something as simple as remembering what smoothie or berries she liked. “Now tell me about what’s been going on.” 

Y/N usually wasn’t one to vent- but the floodgates opened. She felt weirdly comfortable with the man, deciding to let him in on things happening with her work, how her mother had been pressuring her to come home more often when she didn’t really want to considering she knew it would just lead to questions she didn’t want to answer, how she’d been forgetting to eat because work stress had been irritating her and taking over the forefront of her mind and only remembered when he’d text her and ask what she ate that day. A lot of it was trivial and she knew that, people out there had it much worse than she did, but Harry didn’t make her feel judged in the slightest. Instead, his fingers stroked the back of her hand in a soothing motion as he studied her face. 

“And then Danny…” She swallowed the lump in her throat as she met Harry’s eyes apprehensively. “I’m just beginning to see things that I didn’t before. He’s not once asked me how I am, how the weekend really went, how I feel about it. He’s texted me to bitch about work and sports and ask if I was coming out this weekend with the lot of them, but there’s no.. there’s no interest in me. It’s all about him or trivial things and I’m starting to wonder why I haven’t noticed it before.” Her voice was small, wavering slightly as she broke their eye contact to look at the smoothie gone 3/4ths of the way. 

Harry pursed his lips as his hand flipped hers over, instead letting his fingers stroke her inner wrist as he thought of how to respond. It was something he’d noticed too. Danny had never asked how Y/N was that weekend, if she was alright. His phone had sat empty- like he didn’t care and had just dumped her on someone else with no second thought. It had pissed him off too but he didn’t feel he had a right to bring it up first. It wasn’t his relationship, even if he felt some type of way about it. He didn’t want to appear as if he was positioning her to make any sort of decision. It was all her, and he didn’t want her to think he was trying to swoop in and take her away…. Even if that had been a thought a time or three. 

“I’m sorry.” It was how he chose to begin the conversation because in all honesty, he was. He’d been in a situation where he’d felt uncared for not too far in the past and he could remember the emotional wounds- wounds that were still healing. “I know I may not have the most helpful things t’say and I don’t want you to think m’trying to push you in any sort of direction, but let me just say thing.” A large inhale was taken before he continued, hoping she wouldn’t take it in an offensive way. “I don’t understand what he’s doing. If I’m being completely honest with you, I’ve been baffled on how he’s letting this happen,how he even asked me to touch you. If you were mine, I’d never in a million years want anyone to even graze your skin. Let alone do the things m’doing to you. It would drive me mad to think of someone else knowing how you taste, how you look when you finish, and thinking of you saying someone else's name…” A bitter laugh exited him. “I’d be homicidal. So, I can’t wrap my head around how this has happened. But what I can say is that you need to take a look at your relationship and what you want objectively. If it was your friend being treated this way, how you’d feel. Go back and think on how you’ve been treated this whole time.” The next part was going to kill him to say, but he had to. He had to try to be good and supportive. “And I think you’d need to talk to him and tell him you feel neglected. From my eyes it does look that way, and it looks selfish, but perhaps being in a long term relationship makes him a bit lazy.” Harry couldn’t fathom slipping up like that, but again… everyone was different. 

“Bottom line is I want you to be happy, Darling. You’ll still have a friend in me regardless if you’re dating Danny or not. Relationships come and go many times in your life, and just because you’ve put years into it doesn’t mean you have to settle for poor treatment. Okay?” 

Harry’s heart ached when he saw her misty eyes, frowning as he motioned her to come sit on the chair next to him rather than across. The patio was mostly empty anyways, but he didn’t care either way as he pulled her into him for a hug. She didn’t fully cry, but he could feel some dampness on his skin as she nuzzled into his neck. Calming circles were ran over her back, letting her catch her breath as he stayed quiet. He was walking a fine line here. 

“Thank you.” She said, muffled by his shirt. She stayed there for a little bit before pulling out, Harry’s hand lifting to wipe away a few tear stains from her cheeks and smiling when she leaned into his palm. His heart skipped a few beats as he watched her eyes close, relaxing into his touch. God, if she was his he’d plant kisses all over her face and get those giggles back. He’d do anything in his power to make sure the only tears she cried were from pleasure. How could someone be so stupid? “I missed you. Is that weird to say?”

It had only been a few days since she left but she’d missed him quite a bit. Sleeping with him for two days, her own bed had never felt more cold. Never felt less comfortable. There was no knit throw at the bottom of her bed to throw over her shoulders as she made her way downstairs to see him making some sort of breakfast for her. There was no anticipation on what he may ask from her next, if he’d ask her to get on her knees and make him cum. It had only been the first few days and yet she felt addicted to his touch, how he made her feel. 

His smile was warm, thumbing over her cheek as he shook his head. “It’s not weird to say, Pet.” He mumbled, watching her breathing hitch. He’d missed her too. He wanted her back in his bed, back in his kitchen. It had been a tiny hint of what could be and his brain couldn’t stop thinking about if they’d had a proper shot. If he could take her on as not only a full time sub, but as his girl. If she’d sit pretty waiting at home for him when he went out, if she’d follow him around the house like a pup like she had the last day he had her like she was aching for any sort of pet or scratch. “Only two more nights and you’ll be back with me though, hm? Coming right t’my place after you're finished with work?”

“Mhm.” She nodded, eyes wide as she looked up at him. There it was again. That shift, so subtle in his tone but the energy could be felt between them. “I’ll come right to you, I promise.” 

“I know you will, Pet. You’ve already proven you’re my good girl.” His voice was soft as he felt her lean further into him, watching as she nearly melted at the term of endearment. Y/N was just so fucking sweet, he was going to get a toothache. “You’ve been behaving, hm? Not touching yourself like I asked?” 

“Promise.” She whispered. “I was sore for the first day and- and then I remembered what you promised me if I listened. It’s been hard because…” Her face flushed. “Because I keep remembering what we did and how good it felt and then I get all worked up but… I want t’be good for you, sir.” Her voice was soft so it could be kept between them, but Harry knew he was starting something dangerous. His cock twitched in interest as he looked at her slightly wet lips, remembering how he’d felt slipping between them. How she’d been so needy, wanting to take him all the way inside of her throat. 

“I believe you, Puppy.” He chuckled under his breath. “But I hope you know you aren’t the only one who’s been thinking about it. Not only about how good it is, but how many other things I want to do t’you. Just got a bit of a taste for it and my mind’s already running rampant with filth.” He moved his touch to her lip, brushing over the bottom as he let out a sigh. He wanted to hear her cum for him again. Wanted to feel her clench around him, smell her scent on him as he went back home. “So if I tell you t’go to the restroom and wait for me, you’ll be a good little Puppy and do it?”

Her heart rate picked up as she picked up what he was laying out. Oh, god. She hadn’t expected to do anything like this today but she’d never deny him. Maybe that would be a fault of hers later on down the line but there was no way she could say no to him or his touch. “I’ll go right now.” She nodded, standing up on shaky legs the moment his touch fell away. Grabbing her bag, she placed it over her shoulder and walked briskly towards the bathroom, feeling herself heat between her legs as she did so. 

Public play and risky touch was something she’d wanted to experiment with and she was sure Harry remembered that too. It amazed her how much he paid attention to detail and how thoughtful he really was, all things considered. Her legs felt shaky as she stood at the mirror, waiting in anticipation for the man who’d been taking up the majority of her mind the whole week. It had been near constant thought of him when she hadn’t been texting him, talking to him more frequently than her own official boyfriend- but she was more connected with Harry than him at this point in time. She winced at the thought of not being with him in the future, but she never allowed herself to think of the fact that her and Harry had an ending date, even if neither of them knew it. 

The focus now was pleasure. 

Her body jumped as the bathroom door swung open, the man confidently striding in and pointing towards the biggest stall. Wordlessly she nodded, following the unspoken instruction to get in there. 

It moved a bit quickly after that, or maybe her head was just fuzzy from the dominance leaking off of the man. His large hand gripping her jaw and tilting it up so he could kiss her the way he wanted, tasting him on her tongue with a soft moan as he pressed his other hand against her ass and began to ride her dress up. 

“Did it on purpose, didn’t you?” He growled, tugging it up until her ass was exposed to the open air. Her thong was doing her little favors as his hand came down in a sharp smack, making her whimper against his lips as his fingers dug into the stinging flesh. “Wore a cocktease of a dress yet again so I’d take you in here and make you cum. Puppy wants t’be a whore for me?” He pulled their lips apart so she could properly answer. 

“I-I didn’t mean to, but I want you, Sir.” She blinked up at him with hazy eyes, gasping when his hand swatted the other side of her ass. 

“Didn’t even wait for the bruising to go all the way away before you got a hand on that pretty ass again. You’re filthy.” He clicked his tongue, holding on to the heated skin as he laid another kiss on her lips. “What’s your color, Puppy? Can I play with you in here?” 

“Green, so green. I promise.” She swallowed, near close to begging. “I- I want to try this, anything you give me. I’ll be good, I’ll do ask you ask. I missed you, Sir.” Her insistence obviously did something to the man, his features softening slightly at her words. 

“I missed you too, sweet thing. M’not gonna give you my cock today because m’gonna keep myself at the edge this whole week. We’re having plenty of fun this weekend… but since you’ve been such a good little plaything for me and listen so fucking well, m’gonna let you cum on my fingers. A little reward.” He pecked her sticky lips again, releasing her ass to slide his fingers towards the front. “Is that good enough for you, Pet?” 

“Mhm, anything Sir, Anything- Oh.” She gasped as her panties were tugged roughly to the side, his digits sliding through her slit and making her breathing catch in her throat. The moment he got her hands on her she knew she was turned into mush, pathetic and wet, but Harry seemed to enjoy it. 

“I know. You’ll take anything I give you, not like y’have much of a choice. I’m in charge of you and your greedy holes.” He whispered, thumbing over her clit. “Got so fucking wet in such a little amount of time. Or did you get worked up just by the sight of me?” He theorized correctly. “Remembered what we did the last time we were together, how good my cock fucked you out… Is that what happened?” His words were taunting, slightly condescending as she rolled her hips into his hand. He’d pushed her back against the wall, the cool brick making her shiver slightly- but nothing could compare to the heat he was making her feel. 

“Mhm, I-I couldn’t help it.” She felt like her tongue was twisting as it usually did when she fell further into this headspace. “I always think about how good you make me feel, Sir. It’s so amazing.” Her voice slurred slightly as he pushed the first finger inside of her. 

“I know, sweetheart. It is amazing, how your body turns you into the filthiest whore I’ve ever met the moment I walk into a room.” He sighed, slipping knuckle deep inside of her as she squirmed. “God, got such a greedy cunt too. Sucking my finger right in. Know it’s been hard for you to keep those dirty hands off, but your cunt belongs t’me now. M’so glad you’ve kept enough smarts even when you’re horny and gagging for it t’know that I’m the only one who gets to touch.” Harry loved knowing that, actually. She had given herself over to him and made it so he was the one in charge of her orgasms, he was the one who was going to make her feel good and no one else. Y/N had slipped into being a sub for him so easily he had to wonder how she hadn’t ventured into it earlier. She was a natural. 

He watched her eyes flutter shut as he slipped his grip from her jaw down to her throat. He didn’t squeeze quite yet, instead holding her as a form of ownership. If only she knew she owned him just as much. “I’ve been thinking about it too, pretty pet. Been thinking about how much m’looking forward to taking you to the club this weekend and showing you off, how lucky I am to get t’train such a perfect little sub. You’ve been incredible, y’know that?” Slipping some praise in there had her cunt quivering around his finger, making his smirk grow. 

“Oh, Puppy likes being called good. I knew that, but how are you going to feel with all those people watching you prove it? Gonna make them so jealous that you’re so good for me, that you take my cock so well.” Harry purred the words out, rubbing his cock up against her hip as he entered another finger into her sopping cunt. She was drippy and slick, just the way he liked it. It was a shame he was a glutton for his own punishment, but he knew that his orgasm this week was going to be fucking incredible. 

“Sir…” Y/N didn’t even know what she wanted to say, her mouth opening and closing as he curled his fingers right into the spot she needed. It was almost embarrassing how quickly she was coming to an end but she had figured out that he liked that. Harry loved giving her pleasure and making her orgasm, so he was pleased. 

“I know, my needy pup.” My, my, my. Y/N’s brain focused on that claiming title, making her whimper. “I know, you’re gonna cum all over my fingers like the perfect slut you are. M’obsessed with this cunt, you know that?” He laid on some more compliments. “Perfect for my cock, so snug and hot… gets sopping wet just for me.  Love the messes you make. If we had more time I’d slip myself into you and use your cunt to make myself cum, let you walk out of here with my spunk dribbling down your leg. And you’d love it because you love everything I give you.” His fingers applied some pressure on the sides of her neck, giving that headrush she’d been craving ever since she got it last. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes- anything.” She babbled, eyes watering as his fingers nailed right into the spot and the heel of his palm smacked against her clit. It was only a moment later that the door opened and someone obviously on the phone came in, making her eyes widen. Harry instead, though, shook his head. 

“Keep fucking quiet and cum.” He whispered into her ear. “Don’t want the nice woman to know you’re being finger fucked in this stall, do you?” He nuzzled his nose against her cheek. “C’mon, sweet pup. You can do it, be nice and quiet for me. If she listens close enough she’ll be able to hear how wet your cunt is around my fingers, we don’t want that do we?” His taunts were pushing her up and up… 

Harry felt drunk in this moment, overly smug and in power. Y/N was loving every single bit of this as she clung to him, her arm over his shoulder keeping her from falling down on weak knees. He could see on her face how close she was, her eyes watering slightly as he kept the same pace up. It had been ages since he’d indulged in anything like this, let alone with someone so deliciously reactive to him, and he felt an addiction begin to grow as he felt her tighten around his fingers. 

“There we go, you’re right there. Cum for me, baby.” He coaxed, groaning quietly against her skin as he felt her let go. The gush around his fingers, her body trembling as he moved to cover her mouth with his own and the nails digging into his shoulder as she squirmed in his hold. 

The sink went on, the woman still on the phone as she washed her hands and the sound of the automatic paper towel dispenser rang throat the bathroom as he kept his grip on her throat, waiting patiently for the door to close before he released her. A shaky, loud inhale sounded in the echoing room, Harry pulling her into his body as his finger slowly pulled from her cunt. 

“There she is… You did so fucking good, angel.” He whispered, rubbing the back of her neck as he let her recover. “You’re so amazing,y’know that? Kept so quiet for me. Bet that felt so good, didn’t it?” He pulled back to look at her face, cooing at the fucked out look on it. The pride he felt for being the one to put that look on her was filling his chest. It was an honor that she allowed him to do this sort of stuff to her, that she placed all her trust in him to make sure she was safe and felt good. It wasn’t something he took lightly despite the teasing he could give her while in it.

“So good.” She whispered, her head thudding against his chest. He let out a laugh as she lifted her other arm, wrapping it around his shoulders and leaned into him which he fully allowed. Hugging after such a filthy thing was something she would have prior assumed would be awkward, but it wasn’t in the slightest. She felt safe. Cared for. His hand running over her back as he held her, whispering praises. “That was amazing. I… I always wanted to do something like that.” 

Harry remembered that. His lips pecked over her hair, letting her regain strength from her orgasm before moving to grab a bit of tissue. “I remembered. I told you I wanted t’give you all the things I could.” Gently he wiped her clean, apologizing when she winced in sensitivity. “M’sorry, sweetheart. Got to clean you up.” He had to make sure she was good. “M’gonna leave you in here while I wash my hands and I want you to use the bathroom, yeah? Need to be safe.” It was better for her to use it now that to wait. 

“Kay.” She sighed, not thinking twice before leaning up on her toes and pressing a kiss to his lips. When she pulled back she froze, blinking with wide eyes as she looked up at him. “Oh, shit. Is that okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it. I don’t know if you want to keep that just in scenes or if you wanted me to-”

Lips cut her off. A deeper kiss was pressed to her mouth, answering her question for her before he even pulled off. “Don’t overthink it. You can do that whenever you want.” He mumbled, wiping the corner of her lip for her. 

While washing his hands Harry knew that he should have made a boundary there. They shouldn’t be kissing outside of scenes, they shouldn’t have this casual affection, but he would be damned if he ever rejected her in that way when he craved it just as bad. Perhaps allowing that sort of thing was setting themselves up for a world of hurt, but Harry couldn't find it in himself to care. Y/N wasn’t getting what she needed from the very man who pushed her into his arms to be an experiment for her. It wasn’t his fault that they had overwhelming chemistry. 

He already had a hard time denying her. Y/N had quickly become his weakness, one he hadn’t expected. But when being with someone felt this good, it was hard to imagine it being anything but right. 

[narryffdreaming]

HI! HELLO!

RIO GRANDE DO SUL / BRAZIL NEEDS YOUR HELP, PLEASE 🇧🇷

Guys, I know my blog isn't big at all for me to be doing this, but after living some of the most devastating and scary days of my life I feel the need to at least try.

I hope I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure most of you don't know that the state of Rio Grande do Sul (Brazil) is going through the worst climate catastrophe in its history.

To give you some context, it started raining on Saturday (April 27th), and by Monday (April 29th) cities were already underwater. As days went by, and as rain didn't give us a single moment to catch a break, not only floods were a problem, but also multiple, huge landslides. By Wednesday (May 1st), it was like everything was falling apart around us. Everywhere.

Blackouts. No communication. No water supply. Brigdes collapsing. Roads washed out. Houses floating away. Animals drowning. People dying. Missing. Begging for help...

I mean, it's been a really long and painful week. There are so many videos and pictures that I could show you, and I still wouldn't be able to show and explain what we're going through.

Now, a week later (May 6th), we're still living this nightmare. Water follows the course of the river and it's like floods just move from one place to the other. On top of that, more rain is expected during the week.

So far*, out of 496 cities in the state, 341 cities have been somehow affected by all this. At least 78 people died, over 100 were reported missing, and at least 175 were injured. Also, over 134,000 people were forced to leave their homes behind, and most of them won't be able to return because houses aren't even there anymore.

So whilst we're doing our best here to help our people, volunteering ourselves and just doing whatever we can to try and start all over (cleaning up the streets and houses, making food, donating clothes and furniture, etc) we know there's only so much we can do without financial help. Which is why I'm writing this.

If you can, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE 🙏🏻 consider donating and helping us. Especially if you live outside the country — basically bc your money will be worth even more here, as you can see:

€1 = R$ 5,49 || €5 = R$27,46

US$1 = R$5,10 || US$5 = R$25,51

£1 = R$6,40 || £5 = R$32,00

And if you can't donate, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE 🙏🏻 at least just share and spread the word. You'll be already doing a lot for us!

We already went through something like this seven months ago (September/23) and we really, really need more international help/awareness now.

Official links for donations are listed here:

IF YOU'RE FROM BRAZIL: Link

IF YOU'RE FROM A DIFFERENT COUNTRY: Link

Also, if you want to know more about what's happening, you can start here: governo_rs || abcnews || G1 noticias

JUST PLEASE DON'T IGNORE THIS

—

*I wrote this post on May 6th, at 2am. Now it's May 6th, 11:30am (not even 10 hours later), and numbers have already changed: 345 cities have been somehow affected (+4), 83 people died (+5), 111 were reported missing (+11), 276 were injured (+101), over 141,000 were forced to leave their homes behind (+7k).

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x dc AU where Dick adopts teenage Danny into his family with Kor’i and Mar’i

Mar’i had always wanted a sibling, all seven years of her life in fact!! Toys and play times with friends couldnt possibly compare to having a brother or a sister, and she knew this as a fact from some of her school mates.

So when her dad brings home a kid that was all cut up and bruised, and her mom patches him up because something about his “biology” was weird- Mar’i sees this as an opportunity in the making!

Danny is healing up slowly but surely in Nightwings house, and he feels like a total intrusion. He’s now seen their faces and it feels like so much trust has been placed in him with no way for him to repay it. So he’s moping a bit, hanging in his room reading a book based on his video game series when a small child walks in, her arms filled with board games and toys.

“Hello, will you be my big brother?” Is all she asks him with a straight face, her eyes incredibly serious for someone so small.

“Er, im just here until-“

“Want to play a game?” Mar’i changes the subject favoring a specific board game in her hands. Rule number one of negotiation is to never let them say no- her uncle Damian taught her that.

“…yeah, sure.” Danny accepts because honestly? He could at least repay Nightwing and Starfire by babysitting right? They play a few games and then dinner gets brought in and for once, Danny feels like he’s having a normal family meal.

Next time she comes into his room, he’s focused on healing one of his larger wounds from the power in his core- he’s floating and his eyes are green. Mar’i is ECSTATIC. He fits in PERFECTLY.

“WILL YOU PLEASE BE MY BIG BROTHER?!?” Mar’i persistently asks every single day. Danny laughs and smiles and pats her head.

Once he’s feeling better, he starts patrolling with Nightwing, just to pay him back. Not that he’s having fun bashing goons and getting solid hero advice for the first time in his life.

Then he goes to Tameran with Kor’i for a diplomatic mission (his royal ambdassadorship/ king titles tbd) to discuss the Infinite Realms and why they absolutely need to abandon their attempts to use ghost artifacts. Kor’i explains how proud she is of him as they fly home.

He gets invited to all their family outings now, and he is overwhelmed by how accepted he is. How much the Bats all seem to leave him space for boundaries but invite him to do things very much to his interests (they are detectives after all). Once its safe, Jazz comes every now and then from her Ivy League college to hang out with them all and spend time with Danny. She gives him the advice he needed to hear about accepting good things into his life and deserving happiness.

One day Mar’i has a bad day at school, and when Danny gets home from his own community college classes- he brings her into a big hug, makes her a cup of tea from her mom’s home planet and once she’s comforted and happy again he says “hey, what are big brothers for?”