#how fucking insane do you gotta be to be so up your own assholes about

[lombax-lombardi]

I may be a simple self ship blog

BUUUUUUUT

see below in the tags for my thoughts because this shit is wild

[slut4hee]

P*$$Y FAIRYꕥ

“Pussy fairy on the way”

{Pairing: Virgin College Student Jay x Blk Succubus Fem! Reader

{Synopsis: Jay didn’t take his best friend’s words seriously when he said “if you write your name on a piece of paper and leave a sample of your blood on it, a sex demon will come and fuck you that same night” So you come and show him that succubus are far from being a myth.

{Genre: smut, supernatural themes, Jay is a bit of an a introvert, Jake as his best friend, reader doesn’t kill her victims she just puts them in a deep sleep afterwards, 18+ so mdni!!!

{Warnings: loss of virginity, rough sex, oral (m receiving), overstimulation, Jay is a big sub in this sorry not sorry, big dick Jay, creampie, cum eating, marking, pet names, demons and angels mentioned, reader is kinda a menace, reader is described to be a thick brown skin fem with a curvy waist and a big butt don’t like it don’t read, reader has sensitivity in her wings basically another g-spot.

It’s Saturday evening and Jay is doing what he usually does on his weekends, which is play video games with his best friend Jake and eat a bunch of junk food. Jay has never been the type to go out and party on the weekends, instead he prefers to be in the comfort of his own home hidden away from the outside world. Unlike Jake who is guaranteed to be seen at every frat party hosted to mankind.

ミ★

Jay rolls his eyes at his best friend’s loud obnoxious laughter that fills his headset, he curses under his breath when his character dies for the 20th time.

“Dude you really fucking suck at this game you know that right?” Jake says in a mocking playful tone.

“Shut the fuck up bro, I got a new keyboard I gotta break it in” Jay defends himself taking a big sip of his cherry cola.

Jay goes to start up another game when suddenly he hears Jake’s phone ping continuously with notifications causing him to groan in annoyance at the sound.

“Dude could you please silence that shit, it’s driving me insane” he rolls his eyes once again as he starts shooting down enemies paying attention to the game on the big monitor screen.

“You’re just not used to hearing any notifications come through your phone because you got no bitches on your dick” Jake says sarcastically and in a fit of laughter.

“Haha very hilarious Jake” Jay bites back with a tinge of annoyance.

“Seriously Park, don’t you think it’s about time you bone something I mean dude you’re 22 years old” Jake says half joking as he shoots down another enemy.

“I mean it’s not like I haven’t thought about it, it’s like every time I get past the first stage and get the girl to my apartment and I tell her I’m a virgin next minute she’s storming out the door with disappointment” Jay said a little bit embarrassed scratching the back of his neck.

“That’s the problem bro, don’t tell them you’re a virgin of course they’re going to kick your ass to the curb“ Jake snorts and curses under his breath when the enemy’s sniper takes him down.

“Fuck no, and make them think I’m a bad fuck I rather keep whacking my shit myself” Jay said with a tinge of sarcasm leaning back in his chair to stretch his limps.

“First of all didn’t need to know that, 2nd of all I mean there’s always sex workers that’s more than willing” Jake said wiggling his eyebrows up and down at the video camera and chuckling.

“Yeah no, I’m not that desperate asshole I won’t stoop that low” Jay rolls his eyes at his friends crazy suggestion.

“How about you summon the Pussy Fairy maybe she could help you out” Jake laughs out loud logging off the game as he starts scrolling on his phone probably checking his notifications that was going off nonstop.

“Bro what are you even saying, there’s absolutely no such thing as a Pussy Fairy where did you even get that shit from?” Jay snickers and questions his best friend I mean who the fuck would believe in such crazy myth.

“Well you know my roommate Heeseung right? Well apparently there’s some type of ritual he did when he was virgin and a sex witch bitch came and fucked the living hell out of him, his words not mines” Jake shrugged his shoulders spinning around in his gaming chair.

“Bro well guess what, Heeseung is full of shit because there’s no such thing as witches and warlocks let alone a sex witch” Jay spits out chuckling to himself and shaking his head.

“Well supposedly all he did was light some candles form them in a circle, and then he got a piece of paper wrote his name on it and put a sample of his blood on it and chanted something five times along the lines of come to me, my body is yours, yours to feed, yours to want, and yours to fuck. Oh wait he also described what type of race, body type and personality he wants his sex fairy to be” Jake nods as he stands up grabbing his phone taking it with him to the kitchen.

“So you mean to tell me if I go full on Bonnie Bennett, a sex demon is gonna come and strip me of my virginity?! You gotta be kidding me Sim” Jay said not really believing anything his friend is saying, he’s never been the type to believe in supernatural stuff, let alone demons and angels.

“Look, I don’t know if what he was saying was true but all I know is the day he told me he was gonna do it, he woke up with scratches and bite marks on his chest and neck, and to top it off he slept for hours dude” Jake said taking a hand full of chips and popping them in his mouth smacking loud and obnoxious.

Jay cringes at the sound of his smacking “You got got proof? If so then I might just believe you” Jay said finding himself a lot more curious about this whole thing then he usually gets when something intrigues him.

“In fact I do” Jake hurries and presses on Heeseung’s contact to pull up their messages, he saves the pictures that Heeseung took of his body and sends it to Jays phone.

“Attachment Sent*

“Did you get it” Jake asks impatiently as he takes another handful of chips in his mouth.

Jay’s breath gets caught in his throat when he sees the bitemarks and scratches on Heeseungs body. He zooms in on the bitemarks on his neck and it looks like whatever or whoever did this to him had to have some pretty sharp teeth. This can’t be real right it has to be photoshopped right? RIGHT?!

“Fuck man, it looks like Dracula got to him look at shape of the teeth marks” Jay said in disbelief still staring at the pictures.

“Well you go ahead and play detective, I’m gonna go and meet my hot date I’ll catch ya later bro” before Jay can protest Jake hangs up the phone leaving Jay in his thoughts.

ミ★

The rest of the evening Jay finds himself replaying Jake’s words and the pictures of Heeseung in his head. He wonders if he truly was able to summon a sex demon and have the best fuck of his life. He sits up in his bed, smacking on his face telling himself to snap out of it but nothing seems to calm his racing thoughts on whether this theory is true.

“Oh what am I even thinking right now, it’s obviously a big joke there’s no such things as witches and sex demons I really gotta be out of my mind I almost fell for that shit” Jay said out loud to himself trying to convince himself to stop thinking about it.

But he can’t stop thinking about it, in fact he’s even stop trying to tell himself not to think about it and that’s how he finds himself digging through his apartment storage closet trying to find any spare candles he might have and to his luck he finds 4 candles. He grabs his notebook ripping a blank white page from it, he grabs his case of supplies and pulls out a paper clip.

As he starts to form the candles, he recalls Jake’s words saying his roommate formed them in a circle so he does just that. He jogs to the kitchen opening his cabinet to find his matches pulling them out. He brings the matches over to the circle and signs to himself when he slides the match against the scratchy back of the box causing the match to ignite. He leans down to light the candles one by one, the glow from the flame illuminating his face and the heat of it causing his forehead to start sweating.

“Well here goes nothing, I guess I should probably clear my web browser and lock my account since I possibly might die tonight” he said out loud to himself again. “Psst who am I kidding, of course this isn’t going to work I’m just going to do this stupid ritual to prove to Jake that Heeseung story he made up is bunch of bullshit” at this point he’s full on talking to himself, trying to calm his nerves and the anxiety that’s building up in his body. He grabs a pen from his desk and places the piece of paper on the floor leaning his body as he starts to write on the paper.

Jay would never probably come out openly and say this but he has a big attraction to Black women. As a Korean man growing up with Korean parents he was always taught to not date outside of his race but that didn’t stop Jay from secretly crushing on Black girls from afar.

His browser history consists of ebony porn and his hidden gallery is full of nude pictures of his favorite Black pornstars. Jay remembers the first time he felt an attraction to a Black female. It was in the 8th grade, Jay had a huge crush on a girl named Brianna Jones.

Brianna was Jays first love and also first kiss but due to fear of his disappointing his parents he broke up with her, shattering his and hers heart. So that’s how Jay finds himself writing down a description of a Black female with beautiful brown skin, curvy hips with a nice big ass, big tits, and a dominate personality.

As he finishes writing on the paper, he takes the paper clip and pricks his index finger hissing at the light sting. He lets some of the blood drip onto his name and some on the description of his sex demon.

Jay takes a deep breath as he sits inside the circle, he starts to say the same exact chanting words that Heeseung said, still not fully convinced as the words roll off his tongue nonchalantly. He lets the words fall from his mouth for the 5th time and suddenly the candles that were once lit suddenly blew out leaving his living room pitch dark.

Jay looks around frantically starting to freak out and that’s when he starts to feel dizzy like he’s going to pass out. Jay struggles to stand up stumbling backwards as he starts to lose consciousness and then boom everything goes black and he’s out like a light.

ミ★

When Jay regains consciousness, he feels his head pounding and his ears ringing. He groans rubbing his head looking around his room puzzled and then it hits him, how did he end up in his room when the last time he remembered he was in his living room.

Jay looks down to see that he’s half naked, shirtless with only his boxers on. Jay can then feel this eerie feeling floating around his room almost like he’s not alone, like he’s being watched and that’s when he hears a soft giggle echoe around his room sounding far but yet so close and chills run down his spine.

“W-Who’s there?” Jay lets out a shaky breath looking around his room helplessly and that’s when he sees a dark mist surrounding his bed. The only thought left in his head is fight or flight, he decides on flight as he jumps up from his bed trying to get away and suddenly he’s being pushed back down onto his bed.

His eyes widened when a figure appears in front of him, straddling his lap. Jay gulps when he takes in the sight of you, clad in purple lingerie showing off all your curves, your beautiful brown skin has a glow radiating from it, and your cleavage is spilling out of your bra.

“What’s wrong pretty boy, cat got your tongue?” Your lips curl up into a wicked smile as you run your fingertips slowly down his chest stopping at the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxers.

“W-Where did you come from and who are you?” Jay manages to spit out shaky, anxiety and arousal building up all at once from the pressure of your body on top of his.

“The name’s Y/n, and you summoned me here naughty boy” you giggle playfully, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth when your hands meets his growing bulge gently palming him through his boxers.

Jay’s body shudders and his hips bucks up unintentionally as he feels your soft hand palming his half erect cock.“i don’t know what you mean i-i didn’t summon you fuck! I- please” jay says breathlessly trying to keep his composure and that’s when it all comes together.

As he takes time to get a good look at you. He scans your face and body and it all makes sense to him now. You look exactly how he wrote you, your thick juicy thighs covering his, your voluptuous breast sitting pretty on your chest and your dominant nature is causing him to feel weak in the knees and his erection to grow harder.

“Finally figured out huh there baby boy? You didn’t think us succubus were real didn’t you?” You coo at his shocked facial expression causing you to clench around nothing. Virgins were your favorite ones to prey on, always so pathetic and eager.

“So here’s how this is going to work Park Jongseong, you’re going to give me as much semen as I want, while in return I take away your pathetic little virginity got it?” You lean down to look him in the eyes meeting his intense gaze feeling your arousal starting to leak through your purple thong.

“P-Please touch me I’ll do whatever you want me to do just please make me feel good” Jay whimpers when he feels your wet muscle licking the shell of his earlobe. His cock twitches in the confines of his boxers begging to be released.

“Mmm looks like someone is eager aren’t you baby boy, don’t worry mommy’s going to take such good care of you” You smirk as you slide your body down his to reach his clothed bulge. You yank his boxers down causing his thick girthy dick to spring out, hitting his abdomen smearing precum over it.

“Fuck baby, what a huge cock you have mhm mommy going to have so much fun with this, I can tell your balls are full of your delicious creamy milk and I’m willing to take it all” you start to leave kitty licks on his angry red tip that leaks continuously with his clear essence. Jays body jerks violently from the feeling of your warm wet tongue on his sensitive tip.

“Ngh! Fuck mommy feels so good keep going” he grips your hair into a makeshift ponytail guiding your movements, you bob your head up and down hollowing your cheeks taking more of his length down your little throat.

You can feel his thick cock pulsating with pleasure as you continue to deep throat as much of his length as you can, you stroke whatever rest of him you can’t fit in your mouth causing him to let out deep groans and mostly high pitched whiny moans. Drool and his pre cum drips down your chin as you continue to suck him sloppy.

“Fuck fuck fuck that’s it- nghhhh I’m gonna cum I’m gonna-“ you now focus on sucking hard on his red leaky tip, as his cock twitches uncontrollably. you can feel his body heating up and hips bucks up unintentionally causing his length to slide deep down your throat.

Before you know it, he releases his creamy essence down your throat, completely emptying his load into your mouth, as if your mouth was a dumpster but that’s what you are his little cum dump.

“Fuuckkk” Jay curses loudly when you continue sucking him, helping him prolong his climax. His chest heaves up and down as he tries to catch his breath. Already feeling drained from the hardest orgasm he’s ever had in his life, Jay understands now why his friends said a blowjob is the best way to blow your load, and they’re totally right because his hand couldn’t compare to your beast of a mouth.

“Don’t pass out on me just yet pretty boy we haven’t even got to the best part yet” you pout and coo at his fucked out expression, he’s so pathetic for feeling worn out from a little ole blowjob but that only makes you more excited to drain his body of it’s energy and ride him until the next morning.

You stand up from the bed as you start to strip out of your clothing, you decide to give him a little show as you slide the thin straps of your purple nightgown down your shoulders in the most seductive way. Jay stares at you with an intense expression full of lust and affection causing your parties to grow wetter.

You let the gown fall to floor leaving your chest bare to his eyes, you slowly shimmy out of your panties being completely naked now. You crawl back up onto the bed seductively until you’re straddling his lap again. You can feel his hard on poking your wet dripping core, you let out a whimper when you start to ground your warm wet pussy on his thick cock. Jay throws his head back as he lets out deep groans feeling your hot arousal where he needs you the most.

“Fuck Jay your cock is so hard, does mommy pussy feel good teasing your pathetic huge dick” you let out loud moans when his tip rubs against your clit causing your body to shudder violently.

“Oh my god mommy yes feels so good, please let me put it in, fuck wanna be inside your tight pussy” Jay bucks up his hips to meet your grinding ones causing you to let out a whimper. When his tip prods at your dripping hole, growing impatient to feel his thick cock inside your guts you finally rise your hips up as you start to slowly sink down on his throbbing length.

The stretch is overwhelming being that Jay is the biggest cock you ever taken. You can feel his cock filling your gummy walls whole, causing your insides to clench violently. On the other hand Jay feels like he’s going to pass out any minute from the feeling of your warm tight wet pussy wrapping snuggly around his cock.

He grips the sheets so roughly his knuckles turn a shade of white. He holds your hips in place as you finally take all of him inside you, your legs start to shake uncontrollably as you allow yourself to adjust to his size. You can feel his cock twitching and pulsating as you cock warm him. Finally when the pain turns into pleasure you start to slowly rock back and forth on him, you gasp voice trembling with ecstasy from the delicious drag of his cock.

“Oh fuck! Holy shit you’re so tight- Nghh” Jay’s hips bucks up to meet the rhythm you have set causing his body to arch off the bed when he feels your tight pussy clenching around his throbbing sex. His words seem to spur you on as you start to ride him faster, causing the bed to creak and the headboard to slam against the wall furiously.

The scent of sex, your loud moans and his deep grunts, and the sound of your hips slamming down against his, fills his room completely, in the back of his head he’s hoping his neighbors can’t hear what’s going on but that’s almost impossible from the way you’re riding the living hell out of him. You bounce on him like there’s no tomorrow, your sticky essence drips down your thighs onto his stomach. He hisses at the squelching sounds of your creamy pussy abusing his weeping cock.

“Fuck baby boy, dick so good fuuuckk cock so big you gonna make me cum goddamnit” the drag of his 8-inch cock plunges so deep into you, you feel his tip abusing your cervix. You scream to the top of your lungs when he grips your waist pulling you down on him, thrusting his hips upwards. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he sets a brutal pace, feeling nothing but pleasure and lust.

“Ah f-fuck! I’m not gonna last long shit I’m gonna bust” Jay lets out whiny moans as he feels your cunt clenching for what seems like the 100th time. The tempo of your bodies meeting is insane and almost primal, Jay fucks up and looks down to see where your sweaty bodies are connecting and that’s what sends him into a frenzy as his body shudders nonstop.

His orgasm hitting him like a tidal wave, letting out a guttural moan as his thick spurts of cum fills up your womb. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your legs shaking dangerously from the feeling of his warm cum filling up your insides.

The overwhelming feeling of being stuffed full, makes you lose control over your body as your wings spring out on their own. Jay’s eyes widened at the sight of them, reality hitting him that he’s fucking a sex demon.

You continue to ride him lost in the feeling of his thick cock hitting all the right spots. Pleasure takes over Jay’s body once again as he lets out a whimper from the feeling of you riding him hard. Overstimulation hitting him wildly, his body feels numb and his ears are ringing as a wave of heat washes over his body.

Jay’s rough hand grips on your plump asscheek while the other one fondles one of your juicy boobs. Out of curiosity Jay goes to touch one your wings, lightly squeezing it. Like time freezes you let out a loud high pitched scream, the feeling is almost unbearable, your body feels fuzzy and the band in your stomach threatening to snap any minute.

“No, No No please not there I-i can’t take it, it feels so good gonna squirt” You scratch at his chest with your long acrylics. Jay hisses at the sting of your nails digging into his skin. He continues to caress both of your wings and just like that the band in your stomach snaps causing you to squirt all over Jay and ruin his perfectly white sheets.

You collapsed on top of him, panting as you try to calm down from your high, Jay’s chest heaves up and down as holds you tight against him caressing your back. You look up to meet his gaze, he looks at you with such a fucked out facial expression and half lidded eyes. You giggle and smirk as you can tell he’s fighting to stay awake.

Jay can feel himself drifting into a slumber and then boom he blacks out as the darkness consumes him again. You coo at his cuteness wishing he had more energy in him so you could play with him some more.

Just like a flash of lightning your energy is back like it never left. You kiss Jay on the cheek one last time before you have to return back to your place in the deep pits of the darkness and just like that you disappear in thin air.

You leave your purple lingerie discarded on Jay’s floor, which is strictly forbidden for a succubus to leave any trance of their existence for their victims to find but you have a feeling you will be retuning back to visit Jay really soon and for him he’s worth the risk.

The next morning~

Jay wakes up with a pounding headache and his body aches like a bitch. He goes to stretch his limps but hisses at the sharp pain of what seems like to be scratches on his chest. He stands up from his bed, wiping the sleep away from his eyes as he makes his way to his bathroom. He flips on the light switch and his breath hitches when he sees multiple scratch wounds surrounding his chest.

The memories of last night’s affairs hits him all at once, he scurries back into his room and that’a when he spots the purple lingerie laying in the middle of his floor. Jay quickly grabs his phone along with the lingerie. He opens his camera and snaps a picture of the lingerie. He then makes his way back to bathroom as he snaps pictures of the scratches on chest and his disheveled appearance. He opens Jake’s contact and sends him the attachments.

*2 Attachments Sent*

Corn lover Jay🌽: Jake…😅

Golden retriever boy🐶: NO FUCKING WAY DUDE?

The End…

A/n: This drabble is inspired by Jhené Aiko’s song p*ssy fairy, just with my own little twist to it. i was foaming at the mouth as I was writing this, god sub hyungline is gonna do it for me every time you hear me?! But I hope you guys like this fic?? drabble?? Idk but please feel free to like, comment, and reblog 💋.

[madamechrissy]

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - This chapter-cunnilingus, fingering, overstim, spitting (it's Toji so that's its own warning lol)

ꕥ Word Count- 6,239 

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip. You just gotta hope your dad doesn't find out. Masterlist

ꕥ Chapter 1

Spring break was finally here, and you were blissfully Netflix binging with your favorite plushie, back at home to visit. You enjoy getting away from the craziness of the dorms and partying. You start to doze off just a bit, when an unexpected knock on the door jolts you like a shot of espresso. You roll off the couch and stumble over to the peephole, squinting to make out the blurry figure on the other side.

Fucking Toji Fushiguro!?

The last thing you expect to see is your dad's best friend, Toji Fushiguro, standing there with a duffel bag slung over his broad shoulder as you open the door. A smirk on his face, not quite meeting the scar on the corner of his lip. He’s in a skin tight spandex black shirt and loose gray gym shorts, that reveal literally everything on his muscular body.

Fuck.

You know Toji from the many times he's visited over the years, since you were a kid, his laugh echoing through the house, his deep voice telling stories that make your dad's eyes light up. The two of them heading off to horse races and bringing you along still burns in your memory, of Toji giving you sips of beer as a teen, he had been like the cool ‘uncle’ type.

But seeing him here, now, after not seeing him since you were barely eighteen? So like, almost three years… it’s doing insane things to your sleepy mind. He's got that kind of presence, a man who fills up a room just by existing. You've heard the whispers about him, that he’s a whole man whore, you’d heard he was a complete asshole in fact… but he looks so fucking…

“Oi little doll, just gonna stand there, hmm?” His deep voice breaks you out of your reverie, you yawn a bit, wiping the sleep from your eyes and tugging open the door.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m so tired. Hey Toji.” Toji's grin is wide and easy, but there's something in his eyes, when they look you up and down, and you realize you’re wearing a cropped tank and fucking hello kitty shorts.

"Hey, kiddo," He says, ruffling your hair like you're still eight years old. "Surprise! Your old man said I could crash here for the week."

Your dad, Shiu, ever the enabler, appears from the kitchen with two beers in his hands, grinning at you both. “Toji fucking Fushiguro! It’s been ages.”

Toji places his bag down on the couch, popping open the beer and drinking it then, you watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, studying those veins on his stupidly strong neck that pop out. “Shiu! Ah, so good. Missed you, fucking dick.”

“Fucker.” They play fight, like they’re children and not like forty, well your dad is in his forties. Toji was like almost forty? You think… he hadn’t ever changed though, he looks the damn same, just bulkier.

He swipes his hair, you notice the inky black locks are in a bowl cut now, and it flatters his angled face. He looks over at you now. “Spring break is here, so she’s staying for the week.” Shiu says, coming up and putting an arm around you.

“Not partying? No Cabo? Cancun?” You shake your head.

“Not her thing. She’s a good kid.”

“Not a kid, dad. I just turned twenty one.”

“Still a kid.” He pats your head too, and you realize just how damn short you are, your dad is well over six foot and so is Toji.

“Well, can the kid have a beer?” Toji asks, winking at you with a crooked grin, his scar made it that way, and it’s even more attractive.

“She knows she can. Do you want one, angel?” You nod, and your dad looks surprised for a moment, then he heads and grabs you one too, handing it to you. You take a sip of it, humming a bit.

“It’s not bad.”

“She’s growing up on me, Toji.” Toji smirks again, dark green eyes digging into you, like they’re looking right through your outfit.

“Hello Kitty shorts though? Nah, still a fucking kiddo.” You glare, and your dad laughs.

“Fuck you, Toji.”

“Oh! She got that mouth huh?”

Your dad snorts in laughter. “She takes after her mom.”

“Fuck where’s she been?” They go back to talking, and you huff a bit, heading off to the couch, sipping on the drink and texting your best friend Nobara.

You: Fucking Toji is here. Ugh.

Nobara: Oh shit, hot DILF Toji? Gumi’s dad!?

You: That’s the one. I’m in Hello Kitty shorts, KILL ME.

Nobara: Aw bet you’re cute though!

You: How is Florida?

Nobara: So fun babe, wish you were here! But shit… actually Yuuji is puking now omg. Drank too much!

You: Oh no, please be safe!

Nobara: Don’t worry, no one is driving. K, gotta deal with this, you know… you’ve been a virgin a long time, yeah?

You flush.

You: Nobara wtf!

Nobara: Would be a hell of a first time babe.

You: Oh God what? He’s… I… Shit, really Nobara!!

Nobara: Bet he can throw it down. Gotta go baby!

You: Text me later!

You start reading some story you’d been reading earlier, but it’s pure fucking smut, and now you feel it, tightness and pressure in your tummy. As you peek over and watch Toji out back, the patio doors open, standing over by the pool. Your dad is showing him all his cool things he’s put up in the backyard, and your throat goes dry when Toji lifts his shirt.

Just for a fucking moment, to wipe the sweat off his face, but… his body is chiseled within every inch of your life. He has more muscle in like one abdominal than your thighs, which were decently muscular from working out on the weekends with Nobara, Kickboxing.

But his abs…

You eye the V cuts, and then suddenly his eyes catch yours. Your dad is just blabbering away, and Toji just looks at you, and it’s so different. Yeah, he’d looked at you a bit as a teen, but he never crossed a line with those looks. He’d say you were pretty or something but…

Now you’re grown.

He winks at you, the fucker winks!

You run off to your room, peering at yourself in the mirror, and then eagerly stripping off your clothes, your damn shorts were soaked from just looking at Toji’s damn muscles, at the outline of his cock in his shorts. You weren’t even someone who really looked at men like that, mostly you kept your head in school and romance novels that ruined you for men.

Toji was no romance guy.

You hear a knock, and freeze. “Getting dressed!” You call out, and hear a deep little laugh.

“Ah, your dad said he’s grilling out and wants to know if you want anything?” Toji’s voice comes, you hear the door creak a bit with his weight, he’s leaning on it isn’t he?

“Ah… I’m fine with chicken or whatever. I’m getting in my bikini.” You flush then, why were you telling him?

“Your bikini hmm.” The way he purrs his damn words. “Noticed you’ve filled out quite a bit, doll.”

You glare then, at the door, he can’t see you, but you’re sliding on a sunflower bikini, one of your old ones, and sure enough, your tits are nearly falling out. SHIT. Why didn’t you bring one? You sigh, looking for another, and it’s Hello Kitty. It’s a little bigger, so you’re stuck with it, but your breasts are spilling out of this one too, at least it’s not full underboob though.

You hitch up the bottoms, a little tight, as for some reason you blossomed in late high school, you hadn’t had hips till recently, now they were in sharp contrast to your smaller waist. They go over decent, digging in just the tiniest bit, you frown as you realize they’re making your hips squish, and you pop a couple stitches.

“Everything okay, doll?” You gasp.

“You’re still there!?”

“Hmm, I’m curious to see this bikini. Is it Hello Kitty too?” You scowl, realizing you were just gonna have to pour out of this damn Hello Kitty suit, hoping it would loosen up in the pool a bit.

You stomp over, grabbing a hair tie, and opening the door, he pauses then, and there is no more smirk, there’s pure fucking hunger. He leans back, so tall over you, shadows casted along the sharp planes of his handsome face, eyes glittering when they go to your breasts, and you suddenly feel..

Powerful?

The fuck?

“It’s Hello Kitty.” You grumble, then you put your hair up, right in front of him, tits bouncing in the top. He grips the door frame so hard you see his knuckles whiten, as his lips, glossy, part slightly.

“Well, fuck .” Is all he manages, and you smirk then, to shut up someone like Toji? Yep, an accomplishment.

“It’s from high school, I’ve gained a little since then.” You mumble, and his eyes slowly trail down your body.

“It's all in just the right places, ‘ma.”

“It’s all the ramen.” You tease, he snorts at that, rolling his eyes, and you peer down his body too, then pause, when you see it.

His cock outline.

Shit.

He notices your eyes, but rather than hide it, he steps closer, just grinning down at you. “Something got your eye, doll ?”

“Something got your eye, old man?” He laughs darkly, taking your ponytail out of your hair then.

“Sure the fuck does. Filled out was an understatement.” He murmurs, then yanks your hair just a bit. “Turn around, your ponytail looks like shit.”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes, turning, but then when his big hands are in your hair, pulling it, you feel wetness start in your eyes and between your thighs. “Need a hair brush or something?”

“Or something.”

“Let go.” He does, and you walk over to your dresser, this man follows you, and your eyes meet his in the mirror, he’s so tall, so big and broad compared to you, it dwarfs you. And it’s…

Hot as fuck.

“Gimme that, brat.” He chides, yanking your brush, you scowl at his reflection, he just smirks. “Still cute as fuck when you’re all angry.”

“Shut up, old man.”

“Old man, huh?” You cross your arms, but your eyes close in pleasure as he brushes your hair, oddly very gentle. “Open those eyes, doll.”

“Why?” You do so then, as he’s tied your hair up in a high bun, all poofy, and then he leans forward, pressing you against your dresser, and you feel him, hard and hot on your mid back. You gasp, eyes rushing to him in the reflection, and he’s got his chin resting against your shoulder, whispering in your ear.

“I look fucking old to you, doll?” You shake your head then, and he inhales your neck, like some freak. “You smell so damn good. Bet you taste even f’king better, hmm?”

“Shit.” Is all you manage, a whole whine, as he inhales further, then he freezes as your dad shouts from downstairs.

“Yeah, shit.” You turn and watch him adjust himself, blinking rapidly, he just raises his brows. “Tucking it in the waistband.”

“In your waistband? How…”

“How big am I? Doll, what would Daddy say if he knows his daughter is asking such a slutty fuckin question, hmm?” You shove at him then, hands on his stupidly muscular chest, he just laughs.

“Not even close to a slut, old man. I’m a… you know, fuck you.” You push him more and he pauses.

“C’mere, doll, don’t be all sad and shit.” He pulls you a bit, you just smack at his hands. “I said slutty question. It’d be hot if you were a slut f’me but I don’t think you’re a slut.”

“You’re a slut I hear.”

He snorts at that. “I have been a slut. How many college boys have…”

“None. Okay?”

He pauses, brows raised, then his eyes narrow, looking down at you, tilting your chin up. “You lookin’ like that, and no one has tried to eat this pussy or nothing?”

“Eat this… yeah, no. Nothing. I could if I wanted!”

“Well no fucking shit, looking like Playboy magazine.”

“You’re so old, Toji. No one jerks off to magazines.”

“I would jerk off to just a fucking selfie in this.” You gasp again, and your dad is shouting once more. “Fuck, let’s go.”

He grabs your arm and you hate how good that big grip feels, so you smack his arm away, shoving past him and walking down the stairs.

“That ass nice too, doll.” He purrs, catching up, and you smack at him more, he seems to take it with amusement, your dad catches you two, laughing a bit then.

“Nothing’s changed, huh? You smacking Toji and wearing Hello Kitty.” Toji and him both laugh and you roll your eyes.

“I’m grown, thank you!”

“Mmhmm, sure doll. Learn how to swim?”

“I… shut up!”

They laugh more, and play some music that you actually like from their college days, but you wouldn’t admit it. You help your dad start to cook then, and offer to chop veggies and make a pasta salad, getting you away from them. You all have an outdoor kitchen, your dad invested a ton in his home, so different than your itty bitty dorm with your air fryer and burner.

You kinda missed home.

Soon, your dad has more of his old friends come over, and they’re all getting quite tipsy, grilling out and arm wrestling? Men.

Toji’s eyes never leave you though, even as you try to ignore him, and you catch him looking, and when you do, instead of looking away, he just fucking grins over at you. You hate it, but fuck it feels good…

The night wears on, and the air gets heavier with the scent of BBQ and alcohol, and some of the men are finally leaving, your dad is thoroughly sauced and high as fuck, so you end up helping him to bed, leaving water and tylenol by it. Toji leans in the doorway, smiling at you.

“You’re a good kid.” You sigh, kissing Shiu’s forehead, then shutting off the lamp and walking out, gently clicking the door, leaving you and Toji alone.

“I try to be. How’s your kid doing?”

Toji pauses for a moment, sighing. “Last he wrote me he’s visiting Florida, with his friends.”

“Yeah that’s what I heard too.” Toji hadn’t been in Megumi’s life until he was in high school, though he’d been your dad’s friend much longer, it was a complicated relationship. Toji took a long fucking time to grow up you could say.

“Why didn’t you go with? Aren’t you all friends?” He asks, and you sigh, walking past him and to the fridge, you’re hot and sweaty from being outside all day, and you never did get in that pool.

“I am a little boring, I guess. I like to come home on breaks and relax, read a book or something. I don’t know. I don’t have dad’s adventurous streak. You want me to mix a drink?” You stand up and gasp a bit when you see him leaning back against the counter.

He’s got his fucking shirt half off as he wipes his face with it again, you are up close with his ridiculously chiseled body. You see each ab glistening with sweat, and you’re half tempted to lick it off, an obscene, stupid thought. Toji’s grinning at you now, making you flush.

“How virgin are you? Ain’t seen a naked man, doll?” You glare.

“Of course I have. I just… you work out too much.” He snorts in laughter at that, sighing.

“You making a drink or what, doll?”

“Why do you call me that? So annoying. Old man.” You bust out the vodka then, and sprite, putting in a little grenadine and cherries. He looks at it like it’s fucking awful, scowling at it, you scowl at him. “What?”

“What kinda little bitch drink is this shit?” You snort, stirring it, and handing it to him. “It’s fucking pink!”

“Aww, don’t want my cherry huh?” You tease, and then gasp at yourself, covering your mouth with your hand. “Ignore that, please.”

“Uh-uh. I’ll show you what I’d do with that, doll.” He leans over then, taking a cherry out of the cup and biting it. How the fuck was everything he did so fucking obscenely sexual? Then, he puts the stem in his mouth, in you feel your entire body overheat.

“Wh… wha?” You can’t manage to speak or think, as Toji moves the stem around in his mouth, concentrated look on his face, thick brows drawn together. Then, there it is, tied into a damn knot, he sticks it out, holding it by his teeth. You nearly fall the hell over, catching yourself on the counter. “Did you just…”

“Sure did, now what were you running that mouth about?” He hands you the stem, and you’re just bright red, red as the damn maraschino cherry. You sigh, taking it and looking up at him, eyes wide, his eyes were narrowed, sliding down your body leisurely.

“You talk a lot of shit, Toji. Try the drink, it's yummy.” He snorts, taking a sip of it, making a little face.

“Damn, it is good.”

“See!” You make yourself a drink as well, then head outside, and fucker follows you out. “Shouldn’t you get some sleep?”

“I’m not tired. Isn’t it past your bedtime kid?”

“Fuck off Toji.” You sigh, getting in the pool, shivering a bit as the cool water laps over your body, bringing goosebumps, making your breasts taut, nipples tightening in the spandex of your bikini. When you lean over the pool wall, you see him, taking his damn shirt off, your throat goes dry, at his ridiculous muscles, every fucking inch of him.

He hops in the pool, diving in the deep end, and swims across and back in just a minute, before pinching you under the water, swimming up and grinning. You splash water at his face, and he picks you up, literally tossing you, you come up sputtering, and he’s got his shit eating grin.

“Fucking dick! Ugh.” You brush your soaking wet hair out of your face, splashing on him again, he laughs, and then yanks you up, carrying you deeper. You freak out then, clinging to him. “No, no!”

“Need to learn to swim, brat. Uncle Toji will teach you.”

“Gross, don’t call yourself that, yuck!” He laughs a bit, and you’re gripping his neck with your arms, legs wrapping around his hips as he walks further, where you sure the hell can’t stand. “Toji, shit!”

“Stop freaking out, would ya? Can’t handle you wiggling on me like that, fuck.” His voice gets hoarse, whispering in your ear, you tremble in his hold, leaning back then, realizing what was happening.

His dark green eyes hit yours, little reflections of light from the pool waving, showing on his handsome features, and you feel it, your pussy throbbing, pressed against him like this. You want to scooch away, but his grip on your hips is tight, bruising, fingers pressing in deep.

“Want me to teach ya, brat?” You shake your head.

“Nope sure don’t. I will just stay over in my shallow end. Now, take me back, big brute.” He laughs at you, husky and deep.

“You’re so demanding. Nah, doll, I think you need a lesson.” You freak out more now, as he keeps walking you, you cling to him tighter. “Maybe not a swim lesson though, feels like that cunt wants a different lesson.”

“The fuck, Toji!” You gasp, looking at him, and now he’s got you pressed against the pool wall, one arm gripping your thigh, the other resting on the other side of your head, pressing harder against you, then you feel it… “Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.” He whispers, sliding you down his hips, until the huge outline of his cock presses against your pussy in your bikini bottoms, making you pulse around absolutely nothing. He groans, leaning down then. “Your cunt is burning hot, doll.”

“That’s not… it’s just…” You trail off, and suddenly, whether it’s sexy ass Toji, your drinks, or years of being a virgin, you say fuck it, and rub against him, he hisses, holding you still for a moment. You smirk. “You’re the one rock hard. For your best friend’s kid huh?”

He licks his lips, stopping on that scar, and you want to fucking lick it too, as he pushes against your cunt under the water, leaning his face so close you can taste the liquor on his breath.

“You ain't a kid anymore, doll. Whole fucking woman.” He slides his hand up, cupping one of your breasts, you can’t stop the whimper that comes out. “Making those sounds just from this? How desperate are you f’me brat?”

“Not at all, you’re the one hard from just this.” You wiggle again, and he groans, slamming you hard against the wall. You feel a strange wicked thrill at it, grinning then, seeing you have power over this… fucking god of a dude. “Aw, Toji, is it the Hello Kitties turning you on?”

“Fuckin’ brat. I should shut this mouth up.” He leans down then, and pauses there, and you pause. That line?

Crossed.

When he slams down his mouth on yours, it’s nothing like you’ve ever felt, not the sweet kisses from Yuuji when you both were in school, the passionate cute kisses from your ex Yuta, both of whom you never went too far with. That was about the limit of your experience, and now… Toji owns you, his tongue hot and sloppy as it pushes the seams of your lips open.

You gasp, and he takes that as an entrance, now dominating your mouth, sucking on your tongue, flicking around it over and over, his hand grabbing one of your breasts, squishing it roughly in his big hand. You cry out, tongue rubbing against his, fighting with it, he bites the fuck out of your lower lip, now his fingers pinch your taut nipple, making you arch your back.

“Taste so fuckin good.” He whispers, pulling back, bending down and licking a trail to your chest, yanking the top down, revealing one of your breasts, he licks his lips, hungry. “Perfect fuckin tits.”

“Mmh…” Is all you manage, and he looks up at you.

“Anyone sucked on these yet, pretty little doll?” You sigh, shaking your head, and he chuckles, lifting your tits and squishing them together, pulling both out. “It’s my lucky fuckin’ day then.”

“I… Toji! ” You whine it out softly, and then his mouth is on them, sucking one pretty peak into his mouth, then the other, back and forth between them, then biting your nipple hard. “Ah! Fuck…”

“You sure like that, don’t you doll? Wearin’ shit like this, like you want me to fuckin stare.” You tense, shaking your head. “No? You don’t like me starin’?”

“Shut up, Toji.” You whisper, he bites your nipple hard then, and you feel wetness hot and sticky against your bikini, grinding on him, making him moan.

“Shut up? You’ve got a bad little mouth, brat. Should shut it the fuck up.” He takes his hand, finding you, over your bottoms, and you moan outright, and his rough touch, pushing up into your hood, where your clit is throbbing for him. You cry out, and he moans. “Why ya sounds s’fuckin sexy for?”

“Toji…” You whine out the words, pathetic.

"I want to hear you say it, doll. Tell me what you need."

You swallow hard, the words sticking in your throat. "I… I need…"

Toji doesn't wait for you to finish. He presses his mouth to yours again, his tongue delving deeper, as his fingers find the wet heat between your legs. His touch is rough, calloused fingers pressing hard, up and down your folds, but it’s oh so good, and you can't help but moan into his mouth.

"You're so fucking wet f’me," He murmurs, his voice a gravelly growl that sends shivers down your spine. "Do you want me to make you cum, doll?"

“I… fuck…” You can’t say it, you can’t.

“Want me to eat that little pussy out, doll?” He’s kissing you, so fucking sloppy, as you helplessly grind against his fingers, gasping when he slides one in, so goddamn thick it hits some spot that makes you nearly black out. He groans. “So goddamn tight, this little cunt just screaming for Toji.”

“How… in a pool… eat…” He chuckles at your helplessness, crooking that thick long finger in your dripping cunt, walls tightening around the invasion, and he begins to fuck you with it, in and out, till your mouth is dropped open.

“Not in the pool, doll. C’mon.” He’s hoisting you up on the pool wall then, and you nervously look at his gorgeous muscular body, dripping with all the pool water falling in rivulets. He grins, that scar making him look even hotter. Your cunt is pathetically wet from him.

“T-Toji…” You whisper.

“T-Toji…” He mocks, and you glare, standing on shaky legs, backing up, but he follows you, wet body dripping onto the concrete beneath you, until he’s got you picked up, your cold, wet skin against his somehow burning skin.

“We’ll get caught, idiot!” You hiss, and he just grins, picking you up, grabbing your ass and wrapping your thighs around his hips.

“Keep that mouth quiet. Not gonna fuck you… yet. Just eat this little pussy out, make ya cum all over my face.” He’s got you in your room way too quickly, and he’s stripped your bathing suit top, untying it, tits bouncing out to his hungry eyes. He moans at the sight.

“Toji…” You cover yourself for a minute, then he yanks your hands down, cupping your lush breasts in his big fucking hands.

“Perfect fucking tits. So fucking perfect.” He moans, shoving you on your childhood bed then, it creaks as he does with the springs bouncing you, and his mouth is trailing down your still damp tits, lavishing a nipple with a hot kiss.

“Fuck!” You cry out, gripping his damp hair, and he looks up at you, as he’s swirling his tongue around one of your peaks.

“Need ya to shut up, doll, don’t need your dad seeing you like this.” You flush at the thought, biting your lower lip to suppress a moan as he sucks on your other nipple now. “Mmm, would love to hear ya call me daddy.”

“You’re nasty as fuck, old man.” He growls then, sliding a hand up your throat then, taking two fingers and opening your lips wide.

“Nasty huh? Was being sweet with ya. I’ll show ya a little nasty then, pretty little fucking slut.” You gasp, but then he’s spitting in your mouth, his handsome face in a stupidly happy grin, and you stay there, mouth wide open. “Swallow that, doll.”

You stay there, stupidly open, but then he shoves your mouth closed, and his fingers open your mouth again, repeating, all while his other hand slides to your cunt, dripping wet and sticky against your bikini. You cry out, and he’s spitting in your mouth, dragging it along your lips, before shoving his fingers in, nearly choking you as they shove down your throat.

“Suck these, little girl.” He’s licking his lips as you do, gripping his wrist, swirling your tongue along his thick digits and bobbing your mouth up and down. “Good girl, such a good girl f’me.”

“Mmmnh…” You moan around his fingers, as his words make it worse, then he’s got your bottoms off in one quick motion, down your trembling thighs, and he’s shoved those two fingers you sucked in deep, making you scream.

“Shut the fuck up, doll.” He orders, and you cover your mouth, struggling as he’s scissoring you with his fingers, scooching you up the bed, until he’s between your thighs, spreading them, salivating. “Jesus fucking… got the most perfect little fucking cunt I’ve ever seen.”

“You… hmm… like? I…” You can’t fathom a word, and he grins, kissing the insides of your thighs, spreading 'em, dark eyes drinking in your pussy, spreading the puffy lips wide and spitting on her, landing on your clit.

“Such a perfect little pussy, doll. So fuckin’ pretty. Look at this…” He spreads his spit all around your clit, moaning, and your hips buck up at the sensation, as he bends down, licking the flat of his tongue up your aching slit, making you scream then. “Taste so fuckin’ good, girl.”

“T-Toji!” You can’t keep quiet, you just hope your dad is knocked the fuck out, you’ve never felt anything like this, like his tongue as he digs it in deeper, now finding your clit and flicking it, you’re gushing all over his face. “S’good, s’good…”

He’s moaning against it, grabbing the fat of your ass and dragging your cunt up higher to his hungry mouth, then he’s just.. Fucking devouring you. There’s no other word for it. He’s lapping all your wetness up, as you soak him, more and more, burying his whole face in your cunt, and you’re throbbing inside, pressure in your tummy clenching, till you can’t take it.

“Fuck… cumming, cumming!” You whisper, as quiet as you can, and he moans, easing up and grinning at you, his face glistening with you.

“So easy for me, girl? Can’t put up a fuckin fight?” You scowl, but he’s fingering you now, and your eyes roll back, drool pooling out the side of your face as he’s sucking your puffy clit now, shooting pleasure so hard you can’t see.

“Toji! Toji!” He moans, leaning up, looking at you, though it’s hard to see him with your tits in the fucking way. He grins, white teeth glinting, inky black hair falling in front of his forehead.

“Call me daddy when you fuckin cum.”

“No!”

“Then don’t cum, fuckin brat.” He slides his fingers out and you start to cry, tears down your cheeks. “Do it, girl.”

“You’re… awful.” You huff, but then he eases his head up, and you yank it back down, shoving your hips up. “Make me cum, please…”

“Got something to say, doll? Say it.” He spits on you again, and then smacks your cunt, making your hips snap up, shocking you. “Fuckin like that, don’t you? Gonna be a slut just for me.”

“Fucking hell. Get me off, Daddy , please.” You whisper, then his eyes look fucking drunk, sexy lips parted.

“Anything for ya, little doll.” He’s down there again, tongue sliding inside your cunt as his big hands spread your thighs, fucking you with his tongue as his fingers grip your legs brutally. You’re shoving your hands on your face, screaming into them, as you pulse around his tongue, then he slips it back to your clit. “So fuckin wet, want your daddy to drink ya?”

Fuck he’s awful.

He’s so good.

“Drink me, Daddy, pleassee!” You whine the last word, and he’s slurping you up, sounding ridiculously obscene in your little bedroom, on your bed with all your old hello kitty stuffies, he’s drinking you. And you’re calling him- “Daddy!”

“That’s it, cum f’me. Now, girl.” He orders, and you do, yanking on his hair and falling apart, as your orgasm runs through your entire body, you’re gushing so much you had no clue your pussy could even do that. And he’s lapping you the fuck up, unrelenting, until you’re twitching, tears down your cheeks.

“Sensitive… too much!” He laughs, hot breath against your cunt, as you’re throbbing from cumming so damn hard.

“If you’re gonna take this dick some time, imma need ya to work on that stamina, doll. You can cum again for Daddy, huh?” He spits again.

“You don’t need spit, I’m soaked! Freak.” He laughs at you, and the sound is dark, as he comes up, kissing you.

“Not fuckin ya tonight, not your first time. And you think I’m nasty, I’m being a whole gentleman and shit.”

“You just spit in my mouth.” You glare, and he grins, kissing you, oddly sweet, and you melt.

“Better, little prissy bitch?” You sigh, nodding, then he’s shoving two fingers in your mouth again. “Cum one more time f’me.”

“Mmmh…” He’s back down there, and now he knows your cunt somehow, hitting spots that you have never found, sucking on that clit, moans vibrating it, you’re soaking the bed, his hands, his face.

“Fuck my face, doll, fuckin do it.” You greedily grind on his handsome face, and he moans more, shoving his fingers deep then, and you cum again, as you’re gripping his hair, pulling it, as if to take it off, but no, he won’t stop.

He’s lapping you up, sucking on your lips with loud pops, then drinking every bit of your wetness, with his tongue that must be some fucking demon. He is relentless, until you’re cumming again , and this time it hurts, you’re closing your thighs around his head, but he won’t stop, still eating every inch of you.

“T’much… can’t…”

He doesn’t listen for shit, he’s got your thighs against your breasts, and he’s tongue fucking you, lapping up every bit you had to give. Your entire body is numb, chest heaving, pressing on your thighs, ears fucking ringing. You can’t take anymore, as every flick on your clit makes you twitch, makes you cry, wriggle.

“One more, doll. Let me fuckin’ drink you.” You struggle as he sucks on your abused little clit, so hyper sensitive you think you’ll just fuckin die , but he drinks you, licks you, spreads you wide, until you’re almost ready to faint, seeing black and stars only, voice hoarse.

Then, and only then, does he let your pussy go, and just the air alone hits it, making your tears fall even more, he slides up your body, wet swim trunks pressed against your thighs, looking down at you. For once, not a shit eating grin, no, he looked drunker even, pupils blown out, lips parted.

“Taste ya on me, doll.” He kisses you then, and you’re licking yourself off him, messy, dirty fucking kiss, mostly slobber, drool, tongues and teeth. You grip those strong shoulders tight, and he groans. “How ya feel doll?”

You sigh, gulping, trying to think of a word to describe any of it.

“Fucking… amazing.” He grins, licking his lips, licking that scar, and you run your fingertip down it, kissing it, making him tense a bit. “Sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, doll.” He brushes your hair back. “You’re so fuckin beautiful… I…” You both pause at that.

“I am?” You whisper, and he rolls his eyes.

“Course you are, ya stupid or something?”

“I… that doesn’t seem like you to say.”

“Maybe ya don’t know me for shit.”

“Maybe. Maybe you don’t know me.”

“Know how that pussy tastes now.” He kisses you again, then eases off you with a grin. “Soaked your whole blanket, doll.”

You whimper, closing your legs, as he just laughs at you. “That’s your fault, not mine!”

“Next lesson…” He yanks you up, by your arms, and you’re at level with the stupidly hard bulge in his soaked shorts. “Ya sucked a cock, doll?”

“No.” You admit, blushing, he grabs your cheeks, smushing them.

“I’ll let ya sleep, gotta get some energy for next time I get ya alone.” You nearly squeak, and he laughs. “I’ll eat that cunt too, don’t worry, doll, I’m not selfish.”

“That wasn’t my… We’re… the fuck are we doing, Toji?” You whisper then, and he just shrugs, standing you up, raking hands down your curves, until he gets to your bare ass, moaning.

“Imma make you my lil slut, doll. That’s what.” Your eyes go wide as he grips your ass cheeks in each hand, kissing you, sloppy, messy, biting your lower lip so damn hard you think it’ll break. “Get you ready for this cock.”

“You think you’ll fuck me first, huh?” You whisper, tiptoeing, and he glares down at you then.

“I’ll punish ya for that mouth tomorrow.” He turns then, leaving you, naked in your childhood room, and you look in your dresser mirror, you’re completely naked, red marks all over your body, eyes blown out, hair a dripping wet mess.

Your bed? It’s fucking soaked, with your cum and Toji’s soaking wet shorts, and the blankets are yanked off and scrunched.

Toji just ate your pussy…

No.

He devoured your cunt.

Nasty ass Toji, your dad’s best friend, the man you’ve known most of your life, had just ate your pussy in your dad’s house?

And worst?

You wanna suck his cock, wanna choke on it, wanna see his dirty gucking grin as he fucks your throat. Want him to spit on you again, you want more, want him to fuck you senseless, fill your cunt up. You’ve never wanted something like this, it’s like you don’t even know who the fuck you are.

You struggle to get dressed with shaky hands.

Toji Fushiguro was some pussy eating demon.

Your cunt hurts.

And you really hope your dad didn’t hear.

Chapter 2

Fic also on Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/57496135/chapters/146283262

[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Story Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 2 - Wienerbrød

Chapter Summary: You try to bake something new!

You kick your shoes off as you enter your apartment. With your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, you groan in irritation as you storm into your living room.

“I’m telling you, Shoko. This guy is such a fucking asshole. Shut me down the second I asked him a simple question,” you’re ranting as you flop down onto your couch. “He’s got to be the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met. He did nothing but pick apart the entire bakery and tell me how shitty it was, tried to establish some strange dominance thing in the kitchen after offering me the job… the kitchen,” you stress dramatically, wavering your arms as if Shoko can see you. “My domain! Can you believe him? He doesn’t give a shit about the actual bakery. He’s a total businessman type. Stiff, boring as hell and a dick. I don’t know why I said yes to the position. I’m going to hate my life.”

You exhale sharply once you’ve finished your tirade. On the other end of the line, you hear your friend inhale deeply. You didn’t have to ask to know she was sucking on a cigarette, likely almost finished with it and prepping her second, maybe third. After a short beat of silence, you hear her exhale. “Hmm, is he hot at least?”

“Extremely,” you admit through gritted teeth, rubbing away the tension quickly forming between your brows. “That’s the worst part.”

You hate to think it, you loathe to admit it, but Nanami was so very fucking attractive, like stupid hot and it pissed you off! Those thick arms practically bulging through his dress shirt, those veins that exposed themselves and ran enticingly along his forearms when he rolled his sleeves up. His chiseled features, those sharp cheekbones, even his frown was attractive. And god, you didn’t even want to think about his waist. 

Anyone with eyes could see Nanami Kento was an insanely beautiful man, modelesque even. But it only served to piss you off more. His constant gloomy attitude was so off-putting, it almost took away from his beauty, like a rain cloud threatening to cover a blue sky.

“Anyway,” you sigh, putting a stop to your own thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling.  “That’s beside the point, Shoko. He’s an asshole, but it’s obvious he needs help to get his bakery up and running. I think it’s family owned. He told me that he grew up in the bakery. Seemed miserable about it, though.”

“Interesting,” Shoko manages, though she sounds rather disinterested. “Well if he had to pick anyone, he definitely hired the best person for the job. You’re annoyingly positive.”

“Okay, rude.”

“I just mean you’ll balance his negativity well. Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?”

You hum, your mind already accepting your fate. “I guess you’re right.”

“You know I am. The guy clearly needs help and you love this kind of thing - taking something old, miserable and rundown and making it loveable again.”

You hum again, listening as Shoko blows out another breath of smoke. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll do the same for the bakery, too.”

“Right. Wait– what?”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” She says, voice light with humor. The line goes dead and you roll your eyes at your friends comments as you let the day's events wash over you. Nanami said he wanted to sample some of your desserts on Monday and see some new recipes. You can do that.

The moment you’d stepped into the bakery’s kitchen, your mind raced with possibilities. You felt at home there. The kitchen felt like it had been loved, like it was properly used and cared for, albeit old and a little rundown. That was okay. It gave the kitchen personality and you loved that. You wanted to continue giving the kitchen the love it deserved.

Nanami told you he’d grown up in that kitchen, but he truly seemed to hate even being in the building. You tried to picture a chubby little blonde boy with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face standing in the kitchen covered in flour and icing. Adorable, but definitely not the man you’d met today. You wondered how it came to be that he now owned this bakery when he seemed to despise it.

And you wondered if there was a way to get him to learn to love it again.

You shake your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t your job to turn his frown upside down, so to speak. It was your job to make sure the bakery was successful as it’s Head Baker and that’s what you intended to do.

- - - - - -

The weekend came and went just as quickly and now you find yourself standing in the kitchen of the bakery with Nanami as the sun barely begins to rise over the city. You pile your notebooks onto the large metal table in the center of the room. Nanami reaches over, taking the notebook sitting atop the stack.

“Are these your recipes?” He asks, flipping through the pages.

“Yep. These are some pastries I created on a whim. I was thinking we could go through and select what you like, maybe tweak some so that they fit more of the vibe you’re going for with the bakery. Or are there any pastries you’d like to keep from the previous owner?” 

Nanami’s dark eyes shoot up from the notebook to look at you. You hold his gaze, trying to find anything behind those eyes aside from the clear hatred he holds for this bakery, but you don’t. It’s frustrating.

“No,” is all he says.

“Okay…well, we can start from scratch then. Let me know what you see that you may like.”

Nanami replies with something between a grunt and a hum. “I’ll review a few of these and will follow up. If you want to get comfortable and organize the kitchen to your liking, go ahead. Please try and have a sample pastry ready within the next few hours.”

He turns to go into his office without so much as a look back.

You sigh, trying to get used to this silence you were sure you’d be working in everyday whether Mr. Nanami was there or not. You couldn’t wait to establish a menu so you could bring staff on. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You wander through the kitchen with a notepad, looking through all of the smallwares and jotting down what you see in case you need to place an order. There seems to be many of the supplies you need here already and in good condition - spatulas, mixing bowls, flour sifters, icing tips. The bakeware also seems to be well supplied with an array of bread pans, muffin tins and cake pans. This place was fully stocked as far as you could tell. 

You shuffle over to where three mixer appliances sit on a counter against the wall, setting your notepad down to inspect them. They’re a little older, but they turn on and mix just fine. You’d bet they mixed better than some of the newer models. You decide you’ll keep them.

As you lean one of the mixers over to check its condition, you find a small booklet lying underneath the stand. You pick it up, gently setting the mixer back down before you open it to inspect it. It’s a tiny black leatherbound journal with very faded gold lettering in a language you definitely don’t know.

And you? Well, you’re nosey as hell, so you carefully peel back the cover, taking in the elegant writing etched onto the first page.

To my baby boy

There’s some strange writing scrawled beneath this in what looks like English letters. You can’t really tell, but it seems to be some message in whatever language this is. You turn a couple of pages and let your eyes roam over what’s written within. The rest of the pages you can read fairly easily as they’re in English. You can see immediately that these are recipes. The booklet is full of pastry dishes, both sweet and savory. They appear to be foreign pastries and you feel your heart race with excitement as you imagine making them because while you were adventurous with your baking, you’re positive you haven’t tried to make any of these. 

And Nanami did want to sample your baking, so why not give him something he’s not going to see in your portfolio?

Eagerly, you begin moving through the rest of the kitchen equipment, taking out what you need to begin.

- - - - - -

The kitchen is full with the smell of fresh dough baking. The quiet hum of the ovens working calms you as you sift through the recipe in the booklet you’d found earlier. You decided to make one of your original creations while also trying your hand at this new mystery pastry in case Mr. Nanami liked both…or one…or none. Shit, you didn’t want to imagine him not liking either.

You stare down at the ingredients already in the mixing machines.

“Alright. So, water, 2 large eggs, a teaspoon of salt, unsalted butter, active dry yeast…” You read through the remaining list of ingredients until you reach the end. “And now…flour?” You squint down at the notebook, the words scribbled messily on the paper, time having faded the ink. You can’t really make out the measurements written out. It looks like 2 ½ cups. You’ll try it and hey, if it doesn’t work, you’ll simply adjust the recipe to find the right mix. Easy.

Just as you’re sorting through the measuring cups, Nanami emerges from his office with your journals, mouth set in its usual hard line as he makes his way to you. He sets the books down, and you swear you see him inhale the sweet scent of the pastries currently baking in the oven before softly exhaling. You open your mouth to say something before quickly shutting it because he’s back to business in about .02 seconds. You really can’t read this guy, so you don’t try to. You redirect your focus back on to your task.

“These look good,” he tells you, his finger tapping on the book stacked on top. “I placed a post-it note on the recipes I think may work for the soft opening, but I’d like for you to make a sample of them beforehand. Maybe just a few a day.”

You nod, acknowledging his request but far too focused on scooping your guesstimate of flour. Nanami eyes you carefully, brown eyes staring as you carefully run your finger over the top of the flour. The excess falls carelessly onto the table and just before you pour it in, Nanami speaks, his voice halting your movements.

“What are you making now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, glancing over at him. “Oh, something called…” you peer down at the booklet, “Wee-ner-brod?” You’re one hundred percent positive you butchered that pronunciation, but how do you even pronounce ‘wienerbrød’? 

Clearly Nanami knows because he surprisingly lets out an amused chuckle before he asks, “Wienerbrød?” With what you assume is perfect pronunciation. And you’re not sure why, but the sound of his deep baritone laugh makes your stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way.

“Yes! That!” You point to Nanami with your free finger. “I’m making…” you stumble your way through the pronunciation again and get another small laugh from Mr. Nanami which makes your own lips curl up in a smile.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make Danish pastries.”

“I don’t, but you don’t learn without trying.”

“True. What step are you on now?” Nanami asks curiously, coming up to stand next to you. This close to him, you can truly see just how large he is. Not to mention, he smells incredible. You ignore the way the mix of the aroma of baked goods and his cologne almost makes your eyes want to roll back. You’d never smelled something so tantalizing before.

Nanami calls your name and you clear your throat, trying to re-focus.

“Oh, um…well I’ve added mostly everything and now I need to incorporate the flour - about 2 ½ cups.”

“Your calculation is off.” He affirms gently, eyeing the measuring cup in your hand.

You snort, “Are you suddenly an expert in Danish baking or something?”

“I can throw a few things together.” He says and you peek over to see him rolling the sleeves of his very nice (and probably very expensive) shirt up to his elbows. Your eyes roam over, drinking in the sight of those thick veins that you couldn’t get out of your head over the weekend protruding from his forearms, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to grab onto those arms while he –

“As I was saying,” Nanami’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie. “2 ½ cups is close, but you actually need 2 ¾ cups for this recipe.” He reaches in front of you to grab a ¾ measuring cup and again, you’re assaulted with the scent of his cologne. Your mind erupts with thoughts of nothing appropriate for an employee to be thinking about their boss, but you can’t help it!

You blame it on that damn smile of his and that laugh. It’s thrown you off of your game.

Nanami takes the measuring cup you’re holding and replaces it with another. “You also need to use your hands to mix this.”

You might faint.

“Is that…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Is that completely necessary?”

Nanami slowly adds small amounts of flour into the mixer bowl while kneading with his other hand. “It’s time consuming, of course, but it allows for more control over the dough. You can feel the dough's texture…if it’s too dry or if it’s too wet. From there you can determine if more water or more flour is needed.” You watch as his brows furrow in concentration, a little surprised by his knowledge around dough. Though it shouldn’t be surprising given that he grew up in this very same bakery. Of course he’d know.

And once again, your stomach does somersaults.

Damnit, he was definitely going to need to stay out of the kitchen if you were going to stay employed here.

As Nanami continues working through the recipe, you chat idly about general things. He tells you a bit about his time as a businessman, but doesn’t elaborate on what exactly led him to own a bakery. And you tell him a bit about yourself, trying to keep the conversation light as this was the most you’d both interacted since your interview and you’re surprised by how well it’s going. You don’t want to ruin it by poking and prodding.

As the conversation goes on, you watch him very carefully as he works the dough, ignoring the way your heart races watching him do the very thing you do almost daily.

“The end result should be somewhat sticky,” he states.

And oh god, something was getting sticky alright…and it lay between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the bulging muscles of Nanami’s forearms working the flour into a thick doughy substance between his large, thick fingers. Your gaze moves up his stupidly sexy arms, to his biceps straining against his shirt and you imagine him flexing so hard, it rips to shreds, falling in tatters to the floor. The cartoonish image almost makes you want to laugh. And you would have if your eyes hadn’t continued their journey, higher to his tight shoulders moving in circles as he presses his palms into the dough. Higher to the tension in his jaw, the muscles rippling as he grits his teeth with focus. The kitchen suddenly feels unbearably hot and you’re not sure if it’s the ovens running causing the temperature to rise or the view in front of you.

Nanami had never mentioned he knew how to bake. But why would he? It was your job to know. You also never thought to ask after the sour note your interview ended on despite you still being offered the position. You could not stand him upon first meeting and now here you were practically drooling into this batter over how incredibly sexy he was when he was baking.

Nanami slowly pours flour in again as he kneads the dough with expert precision. The way he grips it in his hands, the way his fingers deftly sprinkle flour into the mix. You wonder what else those big hands can do.

The oven timer dings and you snap out of your lewd thoughts, pretty sure sweat is forming on your forehead from your fantasies. You spin around quickly to slide on oven mitts before you pull the pans from the oven. You’d chosen to make miniature fruit tarts with a vanilla pastry cream. A simple recipe, but absolutely to die for. Setting the tray down, you return to Nanami’s side just as he finishes kneading the dough.

And you try to hide the frown pulling at the corner of your lips when you realize you’d lost your perfect view.

He moves to the sink to wash the remaining dough from his hands, returning with plastic wrap to cover the mixing bowl. “I hope you weren’t planning on completing that today,” He says before turning to head toward the walk-in refrigerator. When he emerges, you shoot him a questioning look.

“I was going to let the dough rise for a few hours while I worked on some other things.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but shakes his head. “For this dough, you need to do a long rise for the best result. Overnight is best.”

“Okay, you’re the expert Danish pastry baker apparently,” you tease, earning you another small chuckle from him and you feel your face heat up at the sound.

What is with you today?

“How did you come up with the idea to make Wienerbrød anyway?” He questions suddenly. “Just seems a bit random given what recipes you’d given me to review.”

“Oh!” You rush back over to the mixers excitedly and grab the booklet, holding it up for Nanami to see, a wide grin on your face. “I found this under one of the mixers. It has some strange language I can’t read in the front of it…I’m assuming it’s Danish? But some delicious sounding recipes from what I could understand when I skimmed through. I decided this would be a good idea to take myself out of my comfort zone to try something new.”

Nanami takes a step forward, squinting hard at the little journal in your hands. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly and he snatches the book from your hold. He opens it to the first page, where the foreign message is scrawled down before he snaps the book shut, his lips pursing in displeasure.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in clear irritation. “Next time you find something that is very clearly a personal belonging, please bring it to me before you take it upon yourself to poke through something that isn’t yours,” he snaps, his voice clipped.

The shift in tone takes you aback.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. It just seemed to belong to someone who knew their way around baking so I–”

“I didn’t ask for the reasoning behind your nosiness,” he cuts you off and you feel your own irritation begin to slowly rise. “Is this a habit of yours? Digging through people’s belongings and taking things that aren’t yours?”

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to apologize –”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to show up here, bake and leave. Not spend your time digging through someone else’s belongings.”

You inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn and the last thing you want to do is have a blow up with your boss. You feel like you’ve actually made progress with him today and this feels like a setback waiting to happen.

“Again, Mr. Nanami, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to try something new. I had no idea this book…” you wave your hand in his direction. “...would be such a sore spot for you.”

At this, Nanami seems to bristle. “My sore spot,” he stresses the words, “is nosey employees who don’t just do the job I asked them to do. I asked you to make a sample pastry –”

“And I did,” you cut him off, gesturing to your tarts cooling on the table. “And I had enough time to try my hand at something new, which is why I wanted to try something new and present it to you.”

You sigh when Nanami meets your response with silence.

“What’s the issue here? You had no problem with helping me make this until you saw that book,” you say, pointing at the small black journal he holds. Your gazes lock in an intense staredown and even as Nanami annoys you, you can’t help but find his frustratingly pretty brown eyes completely mesmerizing. 

Ugh, stop.

“The issue,” Nanami stresses, “is you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Excuse me? It’s just a recipe book. Why are you so upset about it? Is it yours or something?”

“Again, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mr. Nanami, with all due…respect,” you grit out the last word because he was really starting to piss you off, “if we’re going to be working together as closely as we are, there needs to be some trust here. It’s just a recipe book. I apologize for overstepping, but you can tell me why referencing this book to make Weenerbrod is such a big deal.”

You could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips just before he rolls his eyes, correcting your pronunciation of the pastry again, just as he turns his back to you. “You are my employee, I am your employer and that’s it. My helping you to bake a simple bread does not make us friends. Please complete the sample pastries I requested of you and we can reconvene once they’re finished. End of discussion.”

Nanami heads to his office without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You can only watch him disappear from your sight, seething. Left standing in the kitchen alone after yet another faceoff with your new boss, you’re suddenly reminded of your earlier conversation with Shoko.

Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?

You resist going after Nanami and giving him a piece of your mind, instead following his instructions to finish your samples. You won’t push him. Clearly that little book meant something to him and he had no intention of sharing. And he was right. It wasn’t your business to know…

…But you can’t help feeling upset that the light mood of earlier is now gone.

You sigh, ignoring the pit in your stomach as your anger begins to subside. Instead, you move to the walk in refrigerator, gathering the ingredients to make the vanilla cream for your tarts.

Your mind is still racing with the conversation that just took place even as you mix your ingredients and pack the cream into the icing decorating bags. You realize for the first time since meeting Nanami that he wasn’t only this stoic tyrant that enjoys barking orders. He was someone with interests, someone with depth, someone who clearly enjoyed the art of baking the same way you do. You saw the look in his eyes as he guided you through making this pastry. And while you’ve barely known Nanami, you’re familiar with the look on someone’s face when they’ve participated in their passion. He looked…happy. Clearly, there’s more to Nanami than you know.

More to him than what he was willing to show you. For now. 

You’re annoyingly positive.

Shoko’s words make you roll your eyes as they echo in her head. Because you know she’s right.

[viviennevermillion]

My boyo. He's so adorable but SOOOO deranged it's not even funny. Like how do you work for human traffickers to make up for your inescapable poverty, use your magic to turn people into puppets to sell, enchant them to participate in a whimsical musical number for no reason but your own personal amusement, tell the terrified victims over loudspeaker how shit you think they are, let yourself be enraged by a bunch of sassy high schoolers and then decide by the end of the day, to quote my dear friend Azul Ashengrotto, I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!!! How does one go from trafficking children to wanting to found a school for magicless children in the span of 24 hours. How do you manage to escape a probably exploitative work contract AND steal your bosses' property in the span of 24 hours with nothing but 1 madol and a dream? How's he going to fund this school? He apparently has to be worried about getting enough to eat. How do you just go "you're right, no more trafficking children, from now on I'm gonna commit to the good of humanity :)"

His lesson from the whole thing was "actually schools are good!" rather than "wow I feel so bad for all the people I probably sold :/"

There is not a sane bone in his body and no rational thought in his brain. His thoughts probably contain so much cursing that the sentences are unintelligible when you censor them. Everytime he speaks to a person he doesn't like, he internally adds "you mediocre little fuckshit pissbabies" or similar to the end of the statements. He has the most deranged evil laugh ever. Even when he likes you and you tell him a funny joke he goes "hehehahahaaAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAH" like he's about to kill someone. He likes having his little ears scratched. He bites though.

He's like the biggest asshole cat you can mentally picture. He doesn't just push stuff off your shelves, he takes the vases and chucks them at unsuspecting pedestrians. He's mad at you and you ask him for a glass of milk and he takes the milk carton out of the fridge and pours the entire thing all over the floor and kitchen counters without breaking eye contact. There's a collection of knives on his bedroom wall.

He's my special little guy. They want to study him to update the DSM-5. He eats the rich. He needs some money to found his little school so he gotta work in retail, scanning the customers' products at checkout and muttering "fucking bourgeoisie cockroach" under his breath. Shamelessly lists "amusement park manager" and "salesman" in his CV as if he worked at a legitimate business. He once had a mental breakdown at the grocery store after closing hour and downed a bottle of whiskey straight from the shelf and then danced through the snack aisle stabbing his cane into the chips bags out of boredom while singing "you're never fully dressed without a smile". Gidel being mute is the only reason this kid does not curse like an uncensored Rapper version of Ebenezer Scrooge.

He's clinically insane. He's the most wondrous attraction at Playful Land. He hopes the afterlife is a musical. He's Fellow Honest. This is a fake name.

[sorchathered]

Strip that down

Pairing- Club Owner!Jake Seresin x Dancer!Reader (Nightclub AU)

Warnings- mentions of stripping, language, light smut

Summary-I’m gonna be so serious y’all I blacked out writing this, might make it a series of drabbles in the future bc I went feral for the concept.

“I swear you have got to be the most pig headed, arrogant son of a bitch I’ve ever met” you say as you storm down the hall, a very disgruntled Jake Seresin hot on your heels. He hadn’t intended to start a fight but goddamnit it seemed like no matter what he said lately caused an argument.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? It’s not like I was asking for that girl’s number or anything, she was all over me! What did you want me to do? hit her? Come on Cherry just stop and look at me please?” He said as he jogged in front of you to stall you. You two weren’t even dating, you’d been very adamant that this was just hooking up, so why were you so pissed? Unless…

“Cherry look at me. I can’t keep fighting with you like this, it’s driving me insane. If you want to break things off we can, I can’t say I won’t miss you but I’ll get it. We work together and it’s hard to be professional when shit like this happens. But…if you want more, all you have to do is ask baby girl, you know good and damn well you’ve got me totally wrapped.”

He had you crowded up against the sticky nightclub wall, bass thrumming through the room straight into your chest as he skimmed his hands up and down your sides. You’d been in the middle of your set when you watched some fresh faced new hire throw her arms around his neck and get way too close for your liking, but of course you had to be professional and continue on, trying to school your features as you danced on stage. The second you’d finished and gotten your tips you’d slammed his portion on the bar, stomping off to the dressing rooms, the fire in your eyes enough to burn the whole room down. He wasn’t yours, he was your boss and you should’ve known better than to let him get under your skin like this.

You were trying to get your bearings but your head was spinning, had he really just said he wanted more? You opened your mouth but promptly shut it, how were you supposed to respond to that? Of course that’s what you wanted but you never would’ve suggested it, you’d been in love with him since the two of you had started this whole arrangement, how could you not be? He was charming and charismatic, and don’t even ask about his looks; the man knew he looked good. He was making it harder and harder to focus now, those damn hands of his couldn’t seem to stop grazing over whatever exposed flesh he could get to and it was making you dizzy.

He cocked his head and smirked that smart ass smile at you, leaning in to whisper against your lips, “Gotta use your words baby, you want us to keep going like we are? Or do you want me to make you mine? You say the word and I’ll make sure every girl in a 100 mile radius knows you own me, but I need to hear you say it.”

“You know I do, I love you, you’re such an asshole but fuck I do, I love you Jake.”

He groaned as he pressed himself to you, kissing you hard as he continued to run his hands all over your body. “Goddamnit Cherry, you can’t just drop a bomb like that on me, making me fucking crazy, I ought to take you right here where everyone can see.” His words sent fire through your veins, you cried out and bucked into him at the thought of him fucking you right outside of the main stage, anyone could walk by and you weren’t sure you’d even care. He chuckled against the shell of your ear as he continued to press his palm against your core, he could feel you soaking through the thin fabric of your costume, again he briefly considered following through with his taunting and fucking you right here, but thought better of it because after all you were still at work. He kissed you again and removed his hand from your shorts, watching your pretty doe eyes blink at him in shock, you really had thought he’d do it.

“Oh come on now don’t look at me like that, go change and grab your stuff, first I’m gonna take you out for dinner and then you can be my dessert, whadd’ya say Cherry Pie?” You rolled your eyes but let him scoot you down the hall, and when you walked out with his hand on your ass you made sure the new waitress caught a glimpse of your tongue down his throat. Jake could definitely get used to this side of you, and the private dances just for him every night didn’t hurt either.

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @sailor-aviator @attapullman @bobgasm @sebsxphia @goldenseresinretriever @bradshawssugarbaby @roosterforme @mynameismckenziemae @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby

[ponyosmom35]

friendly debates

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability series chapter 9!

summary: debating with Soap at the dinner table makes even Ghost laugh.

warnings: none, super fluffy

Liability masterlist:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

“Dogs are superior by a longshot. They have more personality when it comes to their breed, and not every dog is the same. Some are really friendly and kind, and others will maul you to death. Cats are just... Cats” Soap explains, watching her eyes widen in response to him. The pair had been arguing about this for ten minutes when Gaz had mentioned his partner wanting to get a pet. Which he now regretted bringing up. 

“are you shitting me Johnny? what are you even saying! all dogs are the exact same, they love you, they follow you around, they need you. Cats each have distinct personalities, never met two similar in my life!”

“That's where you're wrong. Dogs all have different personalities Cats are the exact same. They all act like little shits, they look at you, meow, and then claw up your stuff and destroy it. Plus, dogs aren't dicks like cats are.”

“All of the dogs I had growing up were the same, they're lovable don't get me wrong! But they chose their person and they love them, you don't have to work for it. With a cat you've got to earn their respect and their love, it's something you have to work for, meaning its more worthwhile to own a cat” she defends

“They make you earn their trust and affection because they are the true assholes. Dogs are way better than cats”

Kyle makes eye contact with Price and Ghost as they enter the room, he runs over and grabs them “you guys gotta hear this” 

“sometimes they are assholes, I'll admit it. But that's personality baby! I swear one day I'm gonna have like five cats” she says, trying to keep her cool as Price and Ghost sit down next to them. She glances at Ghost sitting across from her and qucikly looks back to Johnny.

“I hate cats. I swear if you get a cat I'm gonna go apeshit on you”

“are you asking me to chose between you and the cats?”

“Yes, that's exactly what I'm asking”

“cats every time” she answers without hesitation, causing the table to erupt in laughter. All but one, smiling at her antics. 

“Damn. You're brutal” Kyle comments 

“don't fuck with me about cats suds! I warned you when you brought it up” She says pointing at Soap. Price laughs at her choice of nickname. 

“I'm telling ya, some of these cats are just the absolute bane of my existence. Especially when you have your hands full and they jump up on top of you and just dig their claws into you. It's torture”

“I'm sorry is the sergeant mactavish really comparing a cat to literal torture?” She asks as she giggles “you’re admtting that you’re afraid of little kitty cats? All you’ve done is give me ideas” 

“You wouldn't dare..., no. Anything but those cats, I beg of you”

“too late you've already gone too far” she shrugs 

“Noooooooooo! Have mercy, you devil!”

“funny” she responds, picking up a strand of her ginger hair. The men around her laugh loudly.

“Okay enough about cats, how about this, is soup cereal?” Gaz asks egging them on.

“Soup? I think it's more like a savory form of cereal” Soap nods, answering simply. 

“what the fuck did you just say? are you insane?” she asks

“It's literally a bowl, of liquid, and you eat it. That's just savory cereal”

“Johnny I am seriously questioning your sanity right now” she says seriously 

“You're questioning my sanity for calling soup a savory cereal? It is literally savory cereal.”

“okay repeat yourself one more time”

“Soup. Is. Savory. Cereal.” he says, earning a laugh from Ghost himself. 

“you're psychotic! soup is hot, cereal isn't”

“Soup can be hot, but it doesn't have to be. Do you think cold soup doesn't exist?”

“name literally one” she demands 

“Cold tomato soup.”

“Johnny tomato soup isn't cold” Price interjects “I've drank cold canned tomato soup” Soap shrugs 

“Thats disgusting” she cringes 

“Soup is savory cereal, LT what do you say? Back me up on this” Soap says wrapping an arm around Ghost’s shoulder. 

“You out of your right fuckin mind if you think soup is cereal” Ghost states causing the entire table to erupt in laughter. She smiles to herself as Soap continues to defend himself, clearly seeing out numebred he was. She makes eye contact with Ghost once again, accidently as their legs brush against eachtoher. She utters an apology and holds her hands to her cheeks, resting on them as she attmpets to hide her blushing face. 

Simon sits back with his arms crossed as he pretends to listen to the ridiclous claims the sergeant was making. He couldn’t help but look at her, he watched as she argued so passioantly about the simple topics. She was funny, a side he hadn’t seen from her before. She was charming, and sarcastic and quick witted. He’d always wondered why his teammates seemed to love her so much, now he understood the appeal. She was interesting, and she could hold her own. Still feeling bad about his behavior last week, he decides that he would apoligize. She didn’t deserve it.

chapter 10:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/734021889324974080/ghost-to-the-rescue?source=share

[bisexual-horror-fan]

I know you’re requests are closed but I had an idea for a Mickey fic and I’m an awful writer and you’re amazing so imma just leave this here. What if reader and Mickey are both the Ghostfaces along with Nancy and they’re both like, literally insane. Like to the point where after they kill they gotta fuck then and there whilst covered in their victims blood blah. blah but in the end Nancy kills one of them and it makes the other completely fucking INSANE for revenge.

OKAY! SO! Anon! I fucking love this ask. I went so hard. I hope you enjoy this enemies to friends to lovers over 7K massive fic! I stretched out the timeline of Scream 2 because fuck you, this is fanfic and we can do whatever we want to! I love this request and where it leaves off? I already have a sequel planned and mostly plotted. So thank you Anon seriously. Also, shoutout to @mrsaltieri-real for helping me out on this one! You are the best.

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.9K. Mickey Altieri X AFAB! Ghostface! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Reader Is A Killer. Reader Has Anger Issues. Fighting. Taunting. Teasing. Mickey And Reader Are ASSHOLES To Each Other. Blood. Gore. Murder. Death. Mild Fluff. Enemies To Friends To Lovers. Ghostface Partners In Crime Couple. Mickey Is Crushing Hard. Angst. Hurt. Crying. Emotional Pain. I Apologize In Advance.

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“So Good To You.”

—

You never cared much for the idea of getting a college education, or at least that is what you told yourself because financially it was way out of reach for you, an impossibility. That was until you got an offer you simply couldn’t turn down, what that offer was? It was for a free ride at a college by a benefactor with money to burn and some revenge she needed to be carried out. It would be a hindrance for some, but not for you. The reason you were chosen was because of not only your previous experience with this, but your outright willingness to spill blood. So you accept, you follow her instructions to the fucking letter and arrive at school in September. 

Once moved into your dorm, a few days into college you were meeting up with her in person, all the correspondence up to this point has been online and on the phone, meeting her had to be done carefully. The meeting is not even in town, the process must be delicate, and the wrong people cannot see you together lest there be talk and suspicion. When you show up and see that she is not alone you are confused, when you sit down, and she explains that you are not the only student she is “sponsoring” you are pissed.

You don’t hide this either, gripping your menu, so tightly it might bend, speaking in a hushed yell whisper, “Nancy, what the fuck?”

He, whoever he was, agreed, leaning forward and voice low, “Yeah actually, what the fuck?”

Nancy tried to have a measured response, attempting to calm you both, she set her own menu aside, fingers laced together, hands resting on top of the tablecloth. She says your name and then his, “Mickey-” you scrunch your nose, who the fuck is named Mickey? Like the fucking mouse? 

“-I have to make sure this happens. You both know the motive and I figured having two of you would make this better, all the easier. I can be very hands-off and honestly, you are both such great talents. How could I choose just one of you?”

That pissed you off further. You keep your voice hushed, not wanting to be overheard, “It sounds to me more that you don’t think I can handle this myself and that I need some shitty fucking guy’s help to kill.” 

Mickey scoffed, a roll of his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as he said, “Yeah, you are such an empowered woman who doesn’t need any help to kill. So tough. So strong. If you are so capable, why do you need someone to fund your college career?”

You hated him. Everything about him. His stupid spiky hair, the dumb shade of blue on his sweater, his face, his voice, what he said in tone and also in content. “It’s called a scholarship. I know it’s a big word, you’ve probably never heard it, and what about you? She thinks that YOU need a woman’s help to kill, how sad is that for you?” 

By the way his eyes narrowed, you feel like he doesn't like you either. Good. You don’t want him to. 

The dinner is tense, but you manage to make it through and Nancy makes it clear that if you want to go or if he does that you can, but she will pull her funding and whoever is left will get to do it alone. You don’t back down and neither does he, so you are forced to work together, and you accept this fact with extreme reluctance.

The plan is for you and him to get as close to Sidney and her friends as possible, to insert yourselves and get in the right position at just the right time to make sure that this happens just as Nancy wanted. You did, and you were barely able to restrain your rage against him, it comes out sometimes, everyone else thinks it is an affectionate thing, a long-running joke of both of you disliking each other and exchanging barbs, but no one thought it was serious. 

You had to get used to his presence, but that proved to be difficult, you would sometimes get so riled up after an argument with him that you felt like screaming and ripping your hair out, he got under your skin in the worst way possible. You got to him similarly it seemed, you sometimes knew he left your interactions being the one who could barely reign in his temper, part of you liked getting to him like that. 

Staying away from him and avoiding any time you and Mickey were solo was a must, but sometimes you can’t help it when you are in the same friend group like this. You and he were at the same party and Sidney left to go use the bathroom, and Randy went to go get a drink, and that left you and him in proximity.

You and Mickey were both leaning against the same wall. He speaks first, “Getting real friendly with Sid there.” 

You smile, proud of yourself, you were making a great impression, fantastic progress, you allow yourself to indulge in feeling pride as you agree with his assessment, “Yeah, I am.”

“She seems super invested. You do know that you need more than a low cut shirt to get her fallin’ all over herself for you, right?” He turned to face you, and you turn too as you respond, “Yeah unlike you, I am not a total slut, I am not trying to fuck her.”

“Why not?” He asked, and you laughed into your cup, making sure to keep your voice low enough just for him to hear, “Who am I? Billy Loomis? Gonna fuck her then gut her?” 

He shrugs before taking a sip from his own cup, a swallow before he says casually, “I’ve read your papers in film class, derivative is your whole thing.” 

“Is it now?” You ask and he says, “It is. Taking from someone great, and regurgitating it back out as if it is some amazing new or profound thought, something original all your own, when it very obviously is not.” 

He was such an insufferable asshole. 

You swallow what is left in your cup and then push off the wall, “I need another fucking drink if I am gonna have to be around you.” 

He lets you go. 

After lunch one day you, and he ended up in the same direction, you don’t want to deal with him and so you pick up the pace, walk faster, and he makes sure to speed up too, “Awe where you off to in such a rush? Gonna be late for your gender studies class, princess?” 

“Gross, do not call me that shit.” You say as you adjust your backpack, rolling your eyes before you retort, “You ready to fail that test tomorrow? I know you haven’t been studying.”

His hands are thrown up, eyes skyward and a grin as he says, “Heaven forbid, I wanna enjoy the college experience and make the most of it out and about, not with my nose in a book all the time.” 

“I think you could stand to be a little more well-read, you are painfully fucking dull whenever I am forced to talk to you.” Breaking off for the turn you head towards the building for your next class, he calls after you, “I am so, so hurt. Hey, don’t forget to spell women with a y, you’ll lose points otherwise, okay?” 

He knew just how to really fucking bother you. 

You know how to bother him, too. 

A different day, you and him were meant to have a meeting with Nancy. You were waiting for her to arrive, and he was boasting about how he had gotten in with Randy and Derek, you said, “Finally, took you long enough. It’s weird, though, considering that you are the fucking worst.” 

“I’m the worst?” He asked, and you nod, “Yes you are, I don’t know how you pulled it off, I have seen your acting ability.”

His hand rubs over his eyes as he asks, “You insult my acting ability now? What is wrong with it?” 

“Mickey. Virgin teens faking on prom night are better actors than you are.” 

His jaw drops, brows pinch together, and you pile on before he can respond, “You seem so chummy with Randy though, you blown him yet orrr?”

Nancy walked into you both locked in another augment, and she slammed the door, making you both stop. “Can you please, please, for the love of God, not fight for one day? I know it must be very hard, but do it for me?”

“It isn’t my fault she is such a frigid bitch.” He spits, and you say back, “Rich coming from the school slut, seriously, do you sweat chlamydia?” 

Mickey opens his mouth and Nancy cuts him off, “Please, save it! Can’t you be the bigger person here?”

Mickey doesn’t even look at her, eyes locked with you, he says, “I know you are a real maternal figure, but I am not your fucking son so can you not talk to me like I am?” 

You have to bite back the laugh you were about to bark out, and Nancy was just done, thoroughly over you both and your petty rivalry. “If you both don’t knock it off, I will call off the whole thing!”

That had you and he both turning to her, “You can’t!” 

It is reminiscent of a tired parent on a car trip sick of hearing, “Are we there yet?” and responding with, “I will turn this car around!” When she tells you both, “I can, and I will if you don’t play nice at least in front of me!” 

You and Mickey both know she is serious. You do your best to chill the hell out and just get through this without killing each other. 

The road is long until the first kill is meant to happen. You and he have ebbs and flows of seriously deep hatred, neutral times of acceptance and even an instance or two of actually kind of getting along, at least on the surface. Below that, you still find times of hating each other.

One night after yet another tense meeting, after yet more endless frustration, you and he locked in another fight it happens without you meaning to. Both of you are just too pent-up and when he spits, “I am so tired of you being such a bitch, have you tried loosening up sometimes?”

“How would you recommend I do that in between keeping a low profile, getting closer to Sid and the rest, and keeping my grades up?” He tells you with crossed arms over his chest, “I’d recommend you taking a good dick every once in a while.” 

“Does it always gotta come back to that? Just fuck my stress away and that will fix me?” 

“Why not try it?” And he says it so smugly, something inside just snaps inside of you, leading to you both being in your bed. Your clothes don’t even totally come off, it is a messy hate-fuck, “I knew you wanted me-”

Your teeth sink into his throat, a sharp bite that makes him jerk back, his hips faltering as you respond, “I don’t want you, this means fucking nothing, you mean fucking nothing, okay?”

 “Fine, fuck.” Another roll of his hips pulls a moan from you before he mutters out, “Crazy fucking bitch, just stop biting me.”

A terrible idea hits, and you execute it, a slap to his face as opposed to a bite and it is so shocking, catches him so off guard he has to actively fight the urge to cum. “Better?”

You ask sugary sweet, and he grits out, “I fucking hate you.” 

“I fucking hate you too.”

Hate fucking when the wait for the plan to kick off becomes a somewhat regular occurrence, one neither of you chose to acknowledge unless you were splayed over a surface together.

Currently, you were in Mickey’s place. You and he agreed to head over to a party together to meet up with everyone else, you were in one of those times when you didn’t totally hate his guts, just mostly did, so you could tolerate his presence. You were getting impatient, you were a punctual person, and he was not when it came to things like this. You were tapping your foot on the bottom rung of a stool as you sat at the bar as you waited, calling out to him while he is in his bedroom, “What are you doing in there? Jacking off? I’d like to go sometime this century.” 

“Yeah, I bet you like to think about that.” He called back, and you scoffed, “As fucking if.” 

While you waited, your eyes flitted over the bar, and you noticed there were scattered papers about, you are so bored you start to sift through them, looks like some kind of project he was working on. You look further, wondering what it was, you skim pages and words caught on, “slice” and “blood”.

You start to look further, flip through pages, and you find descriptions of murder, violent kills, strangulation, knives stabbed into warm bodies. You read of terrible brutality and the feelings that are invoked while experiencing it. You become so absorbed in the reading when his hand touches your shoulder, you jump nearly a foot in the air, heart hammering. 

“Catching up on some reading?” He asked with a grin, and you roll your eyes as you shake off his hand, “Creep.” 

“Says the girl who is currently rummaging through MY shit.”  Your eyes are back on the papers, ignoring what he said, and instead you ask, “What even is all this? Some fucked up project for a class?”

He takes the seat on the stool next to you, “It’s my work before coming to school.”

Your eyes go wide, you look at him, “Wait is this-”

He brightens further, “A scrapbook, yeah! I was rearranging it before you showed up, got a bit too into it, lost track of time, so I couldn’t clean it up before you came in, and then you were fucking rushing me-” 

“Holy fucking shit, you have a scrapbook of your previous kills?” You flip through, detailed accounts, pictures, small souvenirs, more still. It was amazing but also infuriating, how the fuck did you never think to do something like this? Most you had was scrawled out diary entries post kill, but this was truly in depth, a testament to his commitment to wielding a knife and bringing pain.

He leans closer, starts pointing out particular details, and you have to admit, an impressive body of work, clear effort put forth into this catalogue of violence. “She was the first. She was in my math class in high school, the kind of girl who thought she was way too good for everyone, you know the type.” 

His eyes meet yours, a taunting smile, and you find yourself letting out a laugh. He kept talking, and you kept listening until he says, “You are being awfully quiet.”

“Am I not allowed to be quiet?” You ask, and he laughs, “No. It just isn’t like you, normally you make your opinions very painfully known.”

You sighed, “I just can’t get over what a good idea this is, I’m fucking pissed I didn’t think of it myself.” You admit, and he laughed louder, “I got one up on you and you admit it? Fuck, it is a good night.” He gets up, collects the papers and puts them in the open box nearby. You try to stop him, “Wait, where are you going?”

You ask as he takes the box back to his room, and he says, “We have a party to get to, remember? I’ll let you read it in full another time for you to cream yourself over, alright?” 

Yeah, sure, cream yourself over is what you’d do. You are simply curious about his work before you both met, you liked getting a feel for him and what he had done, it only makes sense since you are going to work together. He comes back and you both leave, but that night you had to admit is what started the shift, you started to look at Mickey a bit differently, had more respect for him. He obviously had skills to back up his talk, it was a comfort as well as just nice to get to know him on this level. No one else understood that side of you, getting to talk with someone else who has killed, he understands the depth, the complexity and more, you didn’t know how nice it would be.

After that night, you and he talk some more about it, his kills and yours, it is bonding, and it goes from hating each other and somewhat tolerating to being more like co-workers. A different night you were in your dorm room alone and both going over what your pasts. He showed you his newly minted scrap book, and you read aloud from your diary about how your first date ended in your killing the guy. 

“How often have you gotten blood in your mouth?” He asks, and you gagged jokingly, “Too many times! You never think that it is gonna spray like that until the first time you slash a throat, right?”

“Seriously. Okay, okay. Least favourite part?” He asked, and you groaned, “Disposal, dead weight is such a bitch at times. Once a guy almost got away from me, I cornered and killed him at the bottom of some stairs, but once he was dead I had to drag him back UP those same stairs.” 

“Fuck, how did you do it?” He genuinely asked, and you tell him, “With ropes and determination. How about you?” He hums, “My least favourite part has to be when the chase goes on for too long. Nothing worse than being winded before you even get the knife in them, feel like I can’t enjoy it properly, and I hate to do a rush job like that. It’s like the option is taken from me.”

“Lack of control is truly the worst.” You agree. 

While you felt closer, a small kinship as well as more mutual understanding, Mickey could still be a bit much at times, you still clashed on occasion, but those times were becoming fewer and further between. It makes the path to the plan easier. You study on occasion, able to have meals together, Nancy is pretty pleased you’d both calmed down, and you find yourself consumed with regular daily life. The hate fucking isn’t so hateful and has also slowed considerably to a near stop.

When you got the go ahead, you and he were giddy. Alight. It caused one of the worst fights you had with him where you insisted that you be the first one to kill, you wanted to show that you could, prove yourself and also, it had been so, so fucking long since you had. Eventually, Nancy sides with you but insists Mickey be nearby in case shit goes screwy, and you can deal with that. 

You revel in it. The phone call, the break in, the case and the actual kill. You being on top of her, stabbing her, running her through with one hand as your other is over her mouth. She struggles and whines, and you feel powerful, watching the light drain from her eyes the same way the blood does. 

Perhaps you linger just a touch too long, but you just can’t help it. Mickey comes to get you, urge you out, and then he sees it, the aftermath. You still sitting on top of her in your costume, the knife to the hilt inside of her, and you turn, ghostly white mask with small spots of red and his breath catches. He read your accounts, you’d talked in depth, he’d killed people himself, but this, seeing it, you, post kill, was a totally different animal. 

You pull off your mask, hair a mess, face sweaty with the effort, a manic smile as you ask, “What’s up?”

He lingers by the door of the balcony you were on, stuck in the threshold, the sliding glass was acting like a metaphorical doorway as much as a physical one, a turning point, one that cannot be forgotten or ignored. A shifting tide, your relationship, how he viewed you, permanently changed. His mouth feels dry, he swallows and says, “We have to go.”

“Shit, yeah, you’re right, just got a little uh-” You look down at the body, pull the knife out and drive it in one last time, you sound gleeful, “-stab happy.” 

The laugh spills from you both unbidden and then, you flee the scene of the crime. Costumes stowed in bags and knife hastily wiped down. He couldn’t stop looking at you after that night. Every time he saw you, it was like you went from black and white static to live and in colour, as if he was seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you. He had it and had it so fucking badly for you, it was embarrassing. 

You could get him, understand him on levels no one else could or probably ever would. 

Mickey started treating you differently. You think it is because of what he saw, he finally was respecting you and sure it was part of it, but much more than you could have realized went into it. He was being much more than pleasant to be around, he was nice, fun to be around, he wasn’t an asshole like previously and slowly, much, much too slowly, after many meals bought, coffees given and notes shared you figure out that you think, he has a crush on you. It slips through even when with your “friends” and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Especially because he doesn’t hide it. He is kind, he flirts shamelessly, he makes his wants and intentions known.

You don’t know how to deal with or process that. 

So you don’t.

You let him treat you better, you feel previous hate and anger melt, but you write it off as friendship, nothing wrong with that considering what you were doing. You take his compliments with a smile, you laugh off his over the top promises of “I’d be so, so good to you.” with a wave of your hand.

The plan continues on, stretches out from days to weeks, Nancy claims she wants Sidney to really suffer, and you aren’t going to question or complain. 

The next kill is up to Mickey, you weren’t able to be there, but you got to see him after. Amped the fuck-up and excited, he told you about it all, how it went. “He was so pathetic, you should have seen him, begging for his life, crawling on the ground, oh my God.” 

You watched him pace back and forth, animated hand gestures, his t-shirt was sticking to him from the sweat, your eyes aren’t sure where to linger, defined arm muscles or that wide sick smile. He flops onto the couch beside you, a large exhale, “It was fucking incredible.” 

“And what are you feeling like, right now?” You asked as you looked down at him, and he says as his head pitches to look up at you, “I am feeling fucking starving. You want to order in a pizza?”

So you did. You ate sprawled on the floor and talked about the fact everything was meant to ramp up soon, that you and he were expected to both go in hard within the next few weeks. 

It still goes on, you and both grow closer, another kill here, one there until finally there is a night where you have to murder together. The talking beforehand is frantic, both planning what was going to happen, honestly excited to do this together. You and Mickey started off hating each other's guts, but that seems so far away now, you and he were actually good friends and a united front on this plan.

It doesn’t go well at first.

The struggle is hard, you and he almost lose the two people you were planning on killing, but you manged it. Watching Mickey up close, not only that but you both doing this together, it makes something in you and your perception of him change. It is startlingly intimate, you are so in the moment, weirdly in sync with very little verbal communication, at one point you are gutting one of them while he holds them down and even through the masks, you know your eyes are locked, you can’t see his gaze, but you feel it. 

It’s then. Between the smell of blood, the sweat making your black robe stick to you, over the screams of your shared victims, that all of it hits you.

It all comes crashing in, you thought he was the only one with a crush, with deeper feelings, that is not the case. You’ve come to realize that you have feelings for him too, deep and intense, scary and all consuming feelings, you care about Mickey and more than as a friend, a fellow killer, a partner in crime. You like him. Old memories flow through your mind now tinged differently, a highlight reel of neon recollection, synapses sparking, forcing you back, dragging you along to really look at those moments in the new light and context of your now fully exposed feelings. Raw and wriggling and out in the open air for you to contend with, screaming for acceptance and to be dealt with in some fucking fashion.

You had liked him for a long while and were far too stubborn and stupid to realize it. And you can’t ignore it any longer.

Snapped back into the moment you are staring. His strong gloved hands around the bitch’s throat, you can see the power he has, the way his arms strain from the effort, you can’t look away. 

Once it was over, once they are both dead, you and he had to separate, and it made your mind run. You were so nervous, you trusted him completely now.

You knew Mickey was more than capable, but still, the thought of him actually being caught, you don’t know how you’d handle it. The sudden change steals your breath, you feel crushed by your new feelings, the unexpected care you feel for him.

The emotions run high during a kill night on the best of times, but the rough and rocky start, the joined act of killing, the fact the police presence as stepped up, it all mixes together. You were worried, very fucking worried, and that makes you terrified. 

When you come back to the meeting point, he is already there, his mask is taken off, and you hastily remove your own. Staring across the space at each other, heavy breathing, and the look in his eyes upon meetings yours, he knows. He knows you feel differently now, and it can be felt in the air. You stride forward first as you exhale out, “Thank fuck you’re okay-”

As soon as you are close enough Mickey’s hands are on the sides of your face, pulling you to him and his mouth crashing into yours, swallowing you up in him, preventing you from speaking, stealing all words, you return his affection hastily, clumsily and with a moan of relief. Even during all your hate fucking, it wasn’t like this. There were no presses of your mouth to his, the only times your mouths were used were to bite, cause pain, or on occasion give each other some truly rough but brutal oral sex. 

You are greedy, need to make up for lost time. You kiss him hard, want to make him as breathless as you are, more than the chase made him. You and he end up on the couch in his place. Costumes are long forgotten on the floor. His hands wander, touch you all over, help pull clothes away and aside, “I’ve been thinking about this so fucking much.”

A laugh slips out as you straddle him, helping him out of his shirt and throwing it aside, “Yeah Mickey?”

He takes in the view of you in just your pants and bra perched on his thighs, his hands run up your sides, fingers press over an already flowering bruise left from when one of your murder victims kneed you in the ribs. You hiss slightly, a sharp intake of air from the stab of pain, you retaliate, fingers in his hair, you thread, twist and pull. He gasps, smile widens, and he nods as much as you allow, “Yeah, been thinking about you just like this.” 

“Just like this?” You grind on his lap, bare down on his clothed erection, short muted sounds of pleasure leave you both as you lose yourselves in the action, the friction before he manages to get out, “Almost, there are no clothes in the way, and I am buried deep again in that sweet fucking cun-”

You pull even harder and his sentence breaks off with a groan as you prompt him. “Stop talking and start doing.” 

He was losing it. Normally whenever he hooked up with people he was sure, in total control, but you got the drop on him. He should know better, especially after all the previous very violent hook-ups. 

At first, he was on top, or rather, he was trying to be, but all of a sudden a leg was around his hip and hands were on his broad chest pushing him until he fell onto his ass, back propped up on the arm rest of the couch. You settle into his lap quickly, straddling him and then lowering yourself, taking him deep, to the hilt, before he could protest. The moan leaves him on an exhalation at feeling how soaked and hot you are. His hands are on your hips, and he rocks up into you once before your hands are in his hair once more. Fingers thread anew, wrap around and twist before pulling, it makes his eyes shoot open, a harsh inhale from the pain, brows knitted together in confusion when you tell him firmly, "Stay fucking still. This is for me right now, not you."

He is shocked, stunned, your tone so harsh, leaving no room for argument, and you start to move, hips rise and fall as you ride him for all he's worth.

You look fucking stunning, gorgeous, and you feel even better. 

He didn’t know he could be so into this, but he thinks it is because it’s you. He has seen you kill, seen how capable and powerful you are, he is so fucking into you, feels so deeply for you, he thinks you could carve your name into his flesh and he’d beg for more. The praise tumbles out between groan and gasps, timed with the falls and of your hips, the rolls of your body, and it makes you laugh breathy, “You are really into this.” 

“Been a, fuck, while.” He confesses, and you slow your hips, “Mickey, have you kept it in your pants? Stopped fucking half the student body?”

You knew he was seeing other people in between your fucking for a while, but when you and he stopped, did he not get his fill elsewhere? He shrugs, tries to seem unbothered, but it’s hard when his hands are gripping your hips so tightly, browns pinched together, you clench on him and his head is thrown back against the arm rest of the couch. Sweat is down his temple, tendons in his throat as he swallows thickly, “Been busy.”

It is all he can force out. This is serious. Mickey the slut stopped screwing anyone else because he was crushing on you so severely. He did really like you, holy shit. Not an act at all, he was so consumed with you that fucking other people wasn’t something he wanted. 

The emotion radiating off him is filling you, bleeding back into you, and you let it take you without trying to show it too heavily. You fucking care about him, you really fucking do. 

Your hand below your waist, quick fingers bring you to your peak twice in short succession as you ride him before he finds his own high. The first time is frantic, needy, more about getting it out of your systems after so long without. It is undeniably satisfying and thoroughly enjoyable. 

The next time happens that same night. With reheated Chinese and in his bed. You talked about it all, how the kill that night went and in the process worked yourself up once more and made the shower you shared after your time on the couch utterly pointless from how sweaty you got again. 

After that night, you were together. You and he often fucked, maybe more than you should, but you just could not get enough. You’d been so busy that you hadn’t really fucked anyone other than him since getting here over a year ago. Times in your dorm or his, shared showers, traded oral in places that you shouldn’t like between library stacks. Once you had sex in the band pit of the theatre, your hands over his mouth and his over yours as you worked to keep quiet, him thrusting up into you, and you are slamming down on him as you worked each other over, bringing him and yourself to Earth shattering pleasure. 

Both of you kept it more hush, hush, but another secret just added to it. You didn’t run from your feelings, nor did you attempt to hide how into him, you were. The dates squeezed in everywhere you could also try to make up for your stubborn bullshit earlier. Affection was, often, moments of tenderness and vulnerability in private were shared. 

There is a moment that you keep coming back to. 

Another kill. You and he are blood splattered, you had a quickie next to the body, a rushed moment of passion with you pushed over a desk. Your legs were shaking from the strength of the orgasm he fucked out of you. Over the past while you’d gotten much more comfortable with him taking control, it wasn’t a fight for dominance, it was shared responsibility that you give into as often as he does. His cum was leaking out into your panties that you had just pulled back into place. You were heaving, body slick, and resting for a moment when he comes around the desk. His mask is pulled up, and he leans down, gloved hands come to your face, one hand holds the knife in his leather clad grip, the other holds your cheek. You feel the knife handle against the opposite side, and he moves in, he kisses your forehead half-in-half-out of his killer garb, and you melt. You smile up at him and he returns it. 

The lies and secrecy shouldn’t turn you on like this. Lying to Sidney and everyone else, the high you are both on from so far getting away with it is immense. You and he are too perfect of a fit.

It’s the day of. You and he are about to head out when the urge strikes. “Hey-“ Your hand quickly reached out and grabs his wrist, pulling him back from the door, so he was stood facing you again. His hand dropped to your waist, and he smiled down at you, that stupid damn devastating smile you used to hate that you now couldn’t see yourself living without, “- before we do this, there’s something I wanna tell you. Just in case.” 

He noticed you looked almost nervous, weight shifting from one foot to the other, he had never seen this emotion on your face before, and he knew exactly what was coming before you took a deep, unsteady breath and opened your mouth to speak again. “I lo-”

“Don’t.” He said quickly, eyes wide, raising his hand to place it over your mouth, an action you had both done to each other God knows how many times in a much different context. “Save it. Tell me after we’ve won, okay?”

You rolled your eyes slightly, prying his fingers away from your mouth. “God, you’re such an overdramatic dork, Mickey. Okay.”

It was stupid. You shouldn’t have listened to him. You should have said it.

You and he and Nancy were in the theatre with Sidney. The monologue was underway, big speeches, reveals, shock and awe. You’d been watching from afar, waiting for your cue to come in, when it happens all too quickly. Sidney made Nancy so angry so fast, unable to control herself, and she points the gun and with a simple move of her finger, the trigger is pulled and all of a fucking sudden just like that night your world is coming crashing in. He wasn’t expecting it, the bullet holes in his chest pour blood out rapidly. 

You are frozen in place. Rooted to the spot. You watch as his body falls. Here then gone. Stole from you in a single moment, no time to react, nothing to do, no time to process either. He was ripped from you, and it takes a moment for everything to come back into focus. Sidney and Nancy are struggling, and you find the strength. 

You move. 

The weapon in your hand is used on Sidney, not the way you’d intended to, the butt of your own gun is smacked full force on the back of her head. You knock her out and let her fall to the stage. You are left standing there with Nancy, who is wondering what you are doing. You are holding up the gun, pointing it straight at her, questioning her in the same way, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

“Why are you pointing that at me?” She asked in seeming disbelief, and you scoff, “Why do you think?! I heard you! I heard what you said, I watched you shoot Mickey, I know you want me dead next, right? Clean up the loose ends?”

You spit it at her with vitriol before you do your best impression of her annoying voice during her speech to Sidney, “There was a big scuffle, and you-” your foot kicking Sidney’s boot for emphasis, gesturing down to her with your other hand, “-shoot Mickey-”

Saying it makes you sob. Tears start to stain your cheeks, “I cannot believe you! Bringing us here, making us do your dirty work, and you were planning on killing us the whole fucking time!” 

“What, did you really think that he’d get away with it? His big plan about blaming the movies? What jury would believe that-” She shouts, and you stomp your foot, “Shut the fuck up, that isn’t the point!” You weren’t going to tolerate her speaking ill of him, not while he is still bleeding out in the band pit, you kept talking, “You double-crossed us!”

Your gun moves down, and you shoot, getting her in the knee. She crumples under the weight of her own body. She is on the ground, and she is the one sobbing in short order. You make your way to her, you step onto her busted knee, grinding your boot down into it and revelling in her anguished screams. Blood gushes and you still are not satisfied. You sink down, you lay into her. First the gun across her face, teeth are knocked out, displaced and rattle as they roll across the wooden stage. 

You hit her again and again, next the gun is dropped, your hand takes over, punching her, nose breaks, cartilage cracks, bones snap, she is coughing and wheezing and weak. Your knife is removed from the holster stored in your boot, and you hold it to her throat, “You are such a stupid fucking bitch.”

She was delirious, and you slammed her head against the stage, “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Her eyes are unfocused, but they are on you, “This is your fault. You are going to die, but you didn’t have to. You killed him first, and now I’m gonna kill you.”

The response is weak from her dry cracked lips, “Why?”

“Why?” You asked, a bitter laugh, you hold the knife closer to her throat, “Dumb cunt wants to know why? Sure, I can tell you.” 

A deep inhale before you say, “You brought me here under false pretenses, made me work with one of the most annoying and insufferable people I have ever met in my life, forced me to be around him and in the process made me realize that…”

You can’t bring yourself to say it, but you instead say, “-That I care about him. That I needed someone else who could truly understand me on this level, who cared, who showed me how I deserved to be fucking treated and then, you just…You kill him, snuff him out, like he was nothing!”

You feel the tears falling again, “After all we’ve done to make your fucked up dream of a revenge plot come true, and you expect me to just lie down and take it when you kill him?!”

You can’t see her properly, not through how watery your eyes were. A steadying breath before you say, “And the way you did it. With a gun? It is insulting! Where is the intimacy? The care? The artistry, if he had to die by murder, he deserved better! Do you care about the art form at all?!”

You are tired of her, the anger and sadness had been bubbling up, it all comes to a head and bursts, the knife slices through her throat, she is choking on her blood when you tell her, “I’m not playing along, I’m not doing your stupid plot, not anymore. I’m rewriting it, Sidney’s gonna live.”

You don’t stop there. The knife is forced into her over and over. By the time you are done, her stupid white unflattering white suit is stained completely red. 

Getting up from the complete mess, you look over your shoulder, Sidney is still passed out. This is your chance to run, but you can’t. Not yet.

Your steps are tentative, your knees hurt from how long you were on them while hunched over Nancy’s body while you were killing her. Your hands shake, and you peek over the edge of the stage and see him down there, amongst upturned band chairs, and your breath is stolen. You and he hooked up down there weeks prior, and now he was down there, looking wrong, totally fucking wrong. He looks lonely, and you hate that, you move quickly, one hand on the edge of the stage, and you jump down, it hurts your ankles from the height, you don’t care. 

You stay there with him. You cling to him, you are reminded of that conversation, your least favourite. Dead weight. Quickly going cold, lifeless eyes staring up, past you, to some point on the ceiling, unseeing. You let yourself cry. You want to say it, tell him the depth of your feeling want to force the words out, you want to tell him you love him, but now it doesn’t feel right at all. He should have been able to hear those words from you while he was alive, while you still had a shot at a future together, whatever it would have looked like.You let yourself say this at the very least. 

“You were right…” You sniff, you wipe at your cheeks and say, “The time we had was short but fuck. You were so good to me. I should have let you be good to me sooner. I should have been better to you, too.” The next words sit heavy on your tongue, no matter how much you want to they are left unsaid, and you make yourself leave him. 

Before you do, there is one thing that feels necessary, like you have to. Hands cradle his face, one hand still holding the knife, and you lean down, you press a blood stained kiss to his forehead, near his hairline just like he did to you before. A mirror of that previous act of tenderness on a scarlet tinged afternoon but so much sadder because it was the last moment like this you’d ever have with him and again still, it was totally wrong. He can’t feel it, because he’s dead.

You get up and with one last forlorn look to him, you run. 

Sidney wakes up unscathed but dazed, Mickey dead and Nancy too. You hadn’t revealed yourself, she hadn’t seen you, Nancy and Mickey hadn’t made mention of you, you’d been wearing gloves and there was none of your blood or DNA at the finale’ site, so you got away with it. They think the last person is still at large, but they have no clue who. 

Your sadness is understandable, your real grief is able to be spread around, it is believable that it is for Hallie and Derek and everyone else but Mickey on the surface. You and Sidney drift apart. You tell her it’s too hard and she more than understands, she was initially suspicious at first, but you were too good an actor, your alibis too well planned and airtight. 

The unmarked account that your tuition came out of was still full. You intend to transfer to a different college next semester. You can’t stay here, the idea of graduating from here without Mickey is horrible. You need a new state, a new school, a fresh chance to try and attempt to move on. It’s after winter break at that new school that you meet. 

The events happened over a year ago, and you were still not doing good. Still sad, you wonder how you can ever process this pain, this total loss, no way can you talk about it, no way another person could ever understand. 

Until that is one fateful day, you get a knock at your apartment door. You answer it and standing in front of you is a ghost, one person who you thought, just like everyone else, was dead, and maybe, perhaps, the only one who can relate to you. 

Brows furrowed and gripping the door, so your legs won’t buckle, you asked nervously, in total shock and disbelief, “Stu Macher?”

He grinned with a point to himself, “That’s me. Can I come in?”

[erumai-maadu]

YOU KNOW WHAT I just read your post about the Kohona 12 hc and one thing I gotta mention: TEAM 10 AND TEAM 8 BEING BUDDIES YES PLZ THIS IS SO IMPORTANTE!!! Not just bc of their senses dating (which is also a factor) but-- Team 10 is an intel-gathering team, Team 8 is tracking and capturing, CAN YOU IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES????

These two teams would have been the BEASTS of the spy network. Ibiki is desperately trying to convince everyone to join the Anbu squad. The biggest hurdle is Hinata being a Hyuga (her eyes can get stolen) and Shikamaru (he's just lazy).

Ino makes sure everyone looks polished. They're gonna learn what you had for breakfast 12 years ago, hunt you down and drag you back (dead or alive), looking like models whilst doing it ✨

(i'm so normal about this, I totally don't think about them all the time)

YOUR BRAIN >>>>>>>>>

every day Ibiki goes to Asuma and Kurenai and is like “please make ur kids join ANBU in the future pls i’m begging u” and their kids r all like haha no thanks. hinata is like “maybe” for one second and her uncle is immediately like NOT THE BYAKUGAN. ibiki is so sad. he just wants some good spies. he’s trying his best.

anyway some random side thoughts i have about them.

In the part 1 anime filler Shikamaru does call on Shino and Neji for tracking a lot. I guess because Hinata’s a girl and they can’t let her do anything ever :/ truly bizarre. there’s literally a filler episode where Hinata goes “I can see paper bombs all over the village!” and everyone immediately turns to Neji and doesn’t do anything until Neji confirms it. i hate this show.

doyalist sexism aside, Shikamaru heavily relies on Shino and the Byakugan’s sensory abilities to formulate his plans and so I think he very quickly grows used to having team 8 with him when Tsunade lets him form a squad. It helps that they spend a lot of time together (thank you senseis dating) and I’m sure that aside from his own squad, they’re the ones he relies on most.

Choji and Kiba are probably the front line fighters, with Shino and Ino backing them up and Shikamaru at mid-range advising/strategizing. Hinata probably pulls double duty as their long-range sensor and a close range fighter/flanker when things get hairy.

everyone on both teams gets along well but it’s a struggle to get Kiba and Choji to get along at first. Kiba is a bit of an asshole (understatement) and Choji isn’t a huge fan of how aggressive Kiba is. Kiba, for some fucking reason, just canonically doesn’t like Choji when they’re younger. I’m sure there were a lot of fights and a lot of insults thrown around before Shikamaru and Ino got them to sit down and shut up.

Ino tries her best to keep the squad polished but it doesn’t work so well when they’re younger lmao. When they’re older tho…. most fabulous and on point squad out there. your other faves could never.

kiba the leather jacket wearing hottie, ino ‘every outfit i wear has been on point since age 12’ yamanaka, choji who is canonically referred to as the most handsome chubby guy in the leaf (insane statement but still), shikamaru who somehow serves while wearing the standard chunin uniform, shino’s mysteriousness inherently makes him hot, and hinata with her silky hyuuga hair and flawless skin

their formations are tight, their teamwork is seamless, their communication is solid, and they look good while doing it all. ibiki is in a corner crying. he wants them to come work for him so bad.

[ask2pame]

regarding your rant on frances design: TELL ME ABOUT IT. tbh i think all the designs peaked with beautiful world, and everything after that was just...discount budget versions of whoever theyre supposed to be. the beautiful world designs are GORGEOUS on their own, but compared to world stars? theres no contest. some designs i do like, like england looks nice, if not a little too polished, and portugal is really cute, but everyone else just got twinkified and butchered. and i love a twink! i do! but they look like they could be swapped out with my little pony designs and it wouldnt make a difference. france to me will always be a blonde with a ponytail, a little unkempt, with chest hair and stubble and flamboyantly manly with a touch of tragedy. thats france to me. not whatever waif they cooked up in the more recent series

// ok ok i can't tell if u mean like ''oOOOh tell me about it' as a phrase or u actually are inviting me to tell you about it but i'm going to take it as permission to ramble <3 but im putting it under the cut so i dont spam

okok so UR SO RIGHT i think the new designs are so OFF... like it kinda lost the plot. the characters are all weirdly polished?

ok im just gonna run down the characters i have a lot of thoughts about CUZ my god

ENGLAND!!! its gotta be beautiful world

cuz the early seasons england gets his crankiness on point but this design fits just how cranky and posh(?) he is, like he dresses like an old man and wears outdated 'punk' fashion, he drinks tea like an old lady.. it fits hes cute and expressive.

this england isLOSING hair where did his EYEBROWS GO!!!! thats HIS WHOLE FUCKING CHARACTER but also i really dislike the change from him going from a dirty blond to a bleach blond... doesnt work...

i want my man to look like he has a nicotine addiction, rugged and smug as shit. i think they leaned too hard on the 'tsundere' trope for him cuz hes not puffy cheeks with pouty lips hes an old man with a laundry list of war crimes

-

ROMANO

ok. this one is a little hard cuz romano is good in ever season but he has these little minor changes that drive me CRAZY but my favorite will always be the earlier seasons

this ver of romano was a NASTY bitch he just showed up to be an asshole and i love it so much , i love his hair being dark brown with brown eyes ok , at the minimum his design fit his voice...

for beautiful world i think hes cute but i really don't ? like his eyes being green? like i dont know it just never felt right to me:( i like him having brown eyes

and later his design leans into the prev but when u look at him u don't see that one guy who REALLY doesn't wanna be here hes . too soft?

and the newer romano does have the bad attitude but now he's suffering from the 'progressively becoming a ginger' syndrome that a lot of hws characters have now

-

RUSSIA

my pick for him is all over the place bc i think his new design is SO FUCKING CUTE like i wanna bite him and crocodile death roll him but i think he is SUFFERING from cuteness.... hes so . soft?

earlier seasons of russia showed up just to say some morbid shit and be brutal as fuck but he could also lean into being cute, thats his whole gimmick, cute but scary. his current design is cute with no threat.

i think beautiful world had that balance between cute and scary, he was cute and say mean shit like before and was ready to throw down any time america showed up, thats his whole deal. and you know at the bare minimum he's supposed to be fucking BIG and world stars makes him look like a fucking twink

-

SPAIN

beautiful world was WORKING to make spain look good, he was ugly . he was boring. and then he walked in with a new tan and a warm hair color and the cutest smile (tho its hard to find pics of spain in these seasons cuz hes younger in a lot of them) and then it's just

what the hell happened here. i feel like im going insane but did his skin tone get ashy? like it looks more grey. and i know saying spain is 'tan' is generous but what the fuck happened. why did all his colors dull, why is his hair so . boring. where did the body mass go, where did the attitude go... world stars spain is very 'head empty' and not in a good way ....

-

CHINA

one of the most overlooked characters but i love him

i think my favorite ver of him is still his original cuz i preferred him with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes and he's side part... it was so cute... and they swapped it for a middle part .... </3

like he was so cute ;; plus i preferred him as this kinda irritable older know it all character, like he was groaning and huffing and did NOT want to be there. but then he kind of got? infantalized(?) i think they wanted him to be cute but idk if china is considered one of the ancient nations by its own rules, then can we tone down the :333 factor on him a bit

like just comparing but this might be me raise hands at hima for this characterization. what did you do to my boy

like do u see it. am i crazy

-

these bitches

these 4 just suffer from success in their OG and the beautiful world just made them way better (except i miss italy's darker hair </3) and then they just got handed bad animation in world stars

ok thats all i have time for rn BUT YEAH

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Caring neighbor

Masterlist

Squeezed this one outta me cuz my mind was drawing a blank and then just BAM like fucking magic istfg

Pre-outbreak Joel Miller x female reader!

Warnings: smut. A tad of degradation. Uh, idk, Joel being possessive??

Joel Miller's always been kind to you. He's an outstanding neighbor, always willing to help, always responsible, always nice.

So when he sees you having trouble with your car, he obviously goes over to aid you.

“I don't know what's wrong with it,” you tell him. “It just won't start.”

So Joel's helping you, checking out the motor, the battery, and he asks you to bring him some tools. So you wander to your garage and Joel slips into your car, twisting the key, stepping on the break, trying to get any kind of reaction from the car.

For no particular reason, he glances at your backseat and his heart stops.

There, on the floor, are a pair of red, lace panties. He reaches for them without thinking and presses them to his nose. He takes in your scent, imagines you wearing the fucking lace, and his cock grows hard.

He's about to return the panties to their place when you show up, a toolbox in your hand, and you see him, through the windshield, with your panties in his hand.

You immediately flush, dropping the box to the ground and rushing to the driver's seat.

“'m sorry about that,” you hurry out, trying to wrench the item from his hands.

“What's this doing here?” Joel asks as he holds the lace out of your reach.

Your blush only deepens. “Nothing, just...nothing.”

Joel sneers. “They walked in here on their own?”

You pout. “I had a date, alright, and neither of us could wait to get to my place,” you huff. “Happy now?”

Joel's eyes are dark, jealousy filling his body. “No, I'm not fuckin' happy. I'm fuckin' angry,” he tells you, climbing out of your car. “You have any idea how bad I've wanted to fuck you? And you go and let some asshole take you on a date when I'm the one who's always helping you? When I make sure you're okay? When I'm always worried about you?”

“You-you want to fuck me?” you question, astounded.

Joel growls lowly, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you into your house.

“Gonna drive me insane one of these days, kid,” he says as he tosses you on your couch, his hands finding the button of your jeans and quickly tearing it open. “Gonna be the fuckin' death of me.”

He undresses you with too much ease, and you let him. Once he has you bare in front of him, he pulls his pants down, allowing his cock to spring free as he climbs on top of you.

“Gotta fuck you 'nd remind you who you belong to, hm?” he says as he presses his cock into you, your cunt stretching to accommodate his girth and length.

Your back arches, legs wrapping around his waist as he fills you to the brim, the thick head of his cock bruising your cervix as he begins thrusting into you.

“Such a fucking slut,” he grunts, hips crashing against yours. “Taking my cock like a good whore, hm?”

You mewl and sob, gasp and shake beneath him as he fucks you. You can't think, can't focus, can only let him use you.

“And next time some asshole tries to take you on a date, what're you gonna tell him?”

“That I'm yours,” you whine out, hands gripping onto his arms, nails digging into his skin. “That I'm yours.”

“Fuckin' right, you are,” he groans. “My fucking slut.”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

can you explain the Price of Flesh?

Uhhhhh...where to i start.

First and foremost it is a game that is meant for 18+. I do not recommend anyone below that age to play it due to the dark theme.

It is an amazing game, i had a lot of fun playing it

But here is the description from the site.

The Price Of Flesh is an 18+ survival horror visual novel made by Gatobob.

Plot

You begin the game in an auction, and you are what's being sold to one of three bidders. No matter who purchases you and where you are taken, you must rely on your wits and skills in order to survive your new harsh conditions.

If you are bought by Mason, you'll be taken off the grid, deep into the dark Canadian wilderness. Mason's goal is a good hunt, and you are his prize. On this path you'll not only be dealing with Mason, but the mountain itself, and all the danger upon it. You'll need survival skills, and to keep your wits about you. You'll need to manage your health, the freezing temperature, and the onset of insanity to have a chance of surviving.

If Celia buys you, you'll be taken to the basement floors of an abandoned office building. Celia is a bit high strung, and she's looking for a way to relax. Unfortunately, her preferred methods of unwinding are a bit violent. One wrong move and you may lose your life. Her path is more psychological, and you'll need to be smart and stealthy to stay alive. Unfortunately, there's no way to tell time underground- and you'll never know when she's going to come back.

Derek belongs to a sort of 'club'. If he's the one to purchase you, then you'll find out what this club is all about. In the middle of the desert, five killers bring five victims- including you. Not only will you have five murderers to contend with, but you'll have to worry about the searing heat of the desert. There's no food and no water, and the clock is ticking for your own survival- and that of the other four victims. You may need to work together if you want to make it out alive.

In the DLC you are taken in by Ren { a character from B2D and B2D2 }

<Ren is my favorite>

Fox DLC is more focused on survival as opposed to individual endings. The MC needs to appease not only Fox, but his chat as well. Therefore, this is a guide on how to complete the route, as well as any alternate methods

Mason was the hardest for me, not only because of you needing to stay warm but you gotta watch out for him hunting you. It took me a while to get the good ending. { which is finding the bear trap, setting it up and getting him} also the dude does give you shit to survive the wilderness...so theirs that i guess.

Celia's took me a bit to get the best ending since you need to keep your sanity between 20-30. I did like how she is the only one that lets you go in one of her survival endings, Sidenote. I low key find it adorable that she lets you go but you can choose to stay with her and how happy she gets.

Derek....FUCK THIS ASSHOLE AND FUCK THE PEOPLE HES WITH AND FUCK THAT DESERT. God he pissed me off, the satisfaction of offing him and his goons then escaping with the other two survivors was just beautiful.

Annnnnd now my favorite

Ren...first i gotta say that unlocking him is such a pain...well was until i actually found a good walkthrough.

I love him due to the previous games he is in first.

Second, i love his good ending, like i wanna share the screen shots of it so bad { so if ya'll wanna sit or any of the survival endings let me know.}

[query-quadrant]

how do i vome to terms with my ashen relationship being so short lived?

i (bronze) am vonsidering mediating between a rust blood and a teal blood who vontinously pivk shitty fights with each other.

i hate them both so muvh but. im worried. how am i supposed to avvept that once i make these stupid shits vlean up their avt, theyll most either get together pitvhwise or all three of us will break up?

i know that long lasting ash relationships do happen. but ive never seen this avomplished by anyone i know. i dont know if i want to even get into get into something with them if its just going to end badly for me… but thats the whole point of auspistivism. its selfless. maybe id be a bad auspistive after all.

but these two need someone or else theyre going to tear everyone else down with them eventually…

what do i do?

ok im gonna take a hard stance here listen to me i am grabbing your shoulders right now this is the most important shit youre ever gonna hear ok you need to absorb this put it into a text to speech thing and listen till your hear ducts start bleeding if you have to im so serious right now

i dont give a fuck if those two freaks of nature are about to kill each other for real or blow up entire fucking stem clusters if youre not sure you can handle this shit you look the other fucking way and leave the job for someone else who can handle it

auspiticism is hard especially at the start youre stepping into a fucked up relationship where everyones as bitchy as possible and most trolls want it to be short and literally think thats the point and also depending on the dude some assholes would also literally rather skin their bulge than admit that maybe the auspitices feelings matter and that theyre not just walking cheat codes to fix relationships

sometimes people get magical auspiticisms that last for sweeps but most of them arent gonna be that even the nicer ones are usually short or at least start fucked up before they get good and you gotta look out for you

anyway

good advice for if you read all that and do actually end up doing it:

1. make sure you have a good moirail before you get involved

2. have literally any backup plans for if slash when shit ends

3. make sure theyre actually into you too theyre not gonna listen to you if theyre not

4. take no shit

bad advice:

hmmmmm thinking emoji dot dot dot

what if whenever shit started getting a little too stabilized you started fucking shit up on purpose then theyd never have any reason to break up with you cause theyd always need an auspitice

this could never backfire ever in any way

you know give them shitty advice plant evidence one of them is cheating dress up as one of them in a really shitty disguise and start saying whatever insane bullshit you can think of to stoke the flames a little diy your own personal feud nothings stopping you

[absolutely-normal-about-x]

Okay but now I've got to ask: what if Axl survived until Legends as well?

But we're here to have some fun, folks!!!!!!!

I gotta do a really big think here, boys

Now, Axl is a very interesting case because you have to consider that he’s not as well known after the elf wars compared to X and Zero. So he can go anonymous the longest.

In terms of his appearance, he’s slightly older but not as grizzled as X and Zero. His armor is slightly altered, but he still has the experience and skills to be in the same ranks as X and Zero. But now he wears a large poncho, a cowboy hat, and currently holds a large rifle on his back, but still holds on to his iconic pistols. He's also the type of dude that pretends his lollipops are cigarettes and cigs are shit, but chewing down a delicious treat while shooting down enemies is such an Axl move in your honor. In terms of personality, he’s a bit more mature and wise than he previously was but is more lax and adventurous. He's the wise, fun-loving uncle!

Like Zero, he also awakens earlier than X and the guardians. So he’s been around before the events of Legends 1. He would have been awakened after Zero, so there is that. It's kind of tricky for me since he has the copy-chip ability to translate that into a carbon body. The best way I can spin this is that Axl is essentially a shapeshifter, but the trade is that he can't copy 100% of the individual's form and abilities for a much more limited time, which also depends on the size of the individual. He can't shapeshift into smaller beings, nor can he shift into larger forms (basically back to a primitive version of his old copy ability but with fewer drawbacks than it used to). But you know that it wasn't limited to him. That's right, baby! His good old-fashioned sharpshooter skills never faltered after all those years!

Like Zero, he became a wanderer, exploring this new world. However, unlike Zero, who normally just stays distant from others, he is doing his own thing. Is Old Axl here? He explores this world and wants to see what it has to offer. He used his shapeshifting abilities to disguise himself in order not to be seen. Always interacting with the world around him, he made a name for himself as “The Gunslinger.”

Going around to different islands and helping people out basically, but as a vigilante, noting that he's not exactly a “digger” like Zero. But boy does he love a good old treasure hunt, though. Eventually, he formed his own little group after he began to mentor and pick up strays on his travels, slowly forming essentially Red Alert 2.0 (probably under a different name). But unlike the original, Red Alert is less like morally questionable guns for hire. They are more of a vigilante group that targets air pirates who start trouble and steal their shit for fun. They have their own set of morals to prevent falling into unfortunate choices (something that Axl made damn sure to never repeat in the circumstances that led to his first family’s demise). He made sure that the group can work without him but he’ll check up with them every now and then.

The interesting thing about Axl is that unlike Zero, he died earlier in the elf wars so he wasn't around when the Guardians were created so he didn't have that same clue as Zero when it comes to Volnutt’s connection towards X in the first place. So it's gonna take a while for him to figure out that X and Zero are alive..

In terms of how he finds out it would've been more of an accident than coincidence, probably in a bar where Fefnir hangs out once a day. Having a neat conversation with the large guy talking about things until some asshole got way too drunk for his own started harassing folks one thing lead to another a bar fight ensues. Lets be honest these two had a blast during the whole fight especially Fefnir like holy fuck this dude is fucking awesome, like his sharpshooter skills are insane he’s never seen anyone with those types of skills…Aside from Blonde Basta- Uncle Zero and his father. Axl compliments Fefnir with that strength of his. Fefnir asked The Gunslinger if they want to spar because he wants a hell of a challenge since most of his opponents aside from his family are just reaverbots or just crooks who barely stand up against him. Axl would at first think about it but realizes he never really got a good fight in years…

“Oh! What the hell sure thing Kid! But first gotta do it with my clear mind first cause can't fight while wasted! Meet me up on the Next island over so we can have a real fight if ya want to invite yer siblings come on down i love to show ya a real challenge!”

“Oh you're on old man!’

“Oi! I'm not that old!”

The next day on the island where the duel is taking place, Axl is waiting for his opponent or well opponents cleaning up his pistols and rifle thinking about how odd that kid was. Reminiscing the good times he had in his previous life, sighing that spirit reminds him of his youth. Then he hears talking, turning around he sees the kid and others and jeez talk about the family. Huh judging of the others he recognizes them from the news along with Fefnir the “Four Guardians if he puts it, but one catches his attention well two. The scrawny blue one who seems the most excited to meet the “Gunslinger” and is talking to that man. He looks so similar to the older man, so that must be his dad probably. It was at this moment he decided to introduce himself to get a good look at the family until he stopped at the Older man…he reacted with the same expression of bewilderment that X does when he's-

“X? X is that you?!” he blurts out dropping his once cool attitude taking off his hat revealing his iconic scar.

The man’s eyes widened, shaking at the sight he was seeing. Tears welling up in his tired yet kind eyes of his..

“A-AXL!? YOU'RE ALIVE H-HOW?! YOU DIED IN THE ELF WARS!”

“Ha! You ya really think it's gonna take more than that keep this son of a bitch down i’ll tell ya-”

Without warning he was hugged by his old friend who got a lil bit too emotional for his own good. Before giving the gunslinger some breathing room. Like damn X changed a lot he looks pretty much rocking that tired dad look…literally even having the dad bod and all!

“Jeez X you changed alot since the last time we saw each other, I get this is a peaceful era and all but damn you way more relaxed is retirement treating ya well?”

X chuckled at the comment “More or less-”

“Umm excuse me” a voice interrupted the conversation between the two veterans looking at the confused Guardians and Scrawny Blue who were standing there awkwardly.

“Dad do you know this guy” Scrawny Blue asked

“Yeah! This is your Uncle Axl”

The boy’s eyes widen with excitement at the man while the other 4 are in bewilderment at this sight.

Holy shit he's an uncle! Damn he knew X is the type to be a parent but damn settling down was not on his bingo list.

“Damn X didnt know you had it in ya! Lemmie guess those Four are your apprentices or something?”

X looked at the guardians and then to Axl laughing nervously

“Ummmm actually Axl…those four…are my children too like…there his Siblings…”

“HOLY SHIT X MY MAN, MY BROTHER, I HAVE NO IDEA YOU WHERE THIS LOOSE-’’

“AXL!! NO IT'S NOT LIKE THAT I SWEAR TO ASIMOV AND NOT IN FRONT OF VOLNUTT HE'S TOO YOUNG FOR THAT!!!!”

“What is happening?!”

“When we will have OUR FUCKING FIGHT UNCLE AXL!?”

To say the least it was an eventful day for those two but don't worry Fefnir got his fight with uncle Axl ... .After X explained what the hell happened after the elf wars and such. To say the least he loves his nieces and nephews.

[legendarybelmont]

In response to your post

You know something I go insane over? During that encounter, Trevor uses Holy Water on Hector. ("Incinerate!")

He sees him as so inhuman for his role as Forgemaster, that he treats him like any other demonic creature to be slain without thought. Sir. Sir that is a person. You are trying to purify a person. Or burn him alive, depending on how it works. It would have been fucked up even if he were fighting Isaac.

Even better, Isaac is strong to Dark but is not weak to Holy, implying Forgemasters are not cursed to that degree (yes even when saturated with the Curse lol). Sure, Holy Water hurts Hector, but my headcanon is that it's reacting to Legion which is growing under the cathedral. Still. Says a lot about our Legendary Belmont.

this is really good so i dont have much commentary, but one note i have: i do think trevor just likes throwing holy water at people, honestly. in the grand scheme of curse of darkness, this (and grand cross) is basically the only thing trevor ever does to imply he has general prejudice against the devil forgemasters other than just the fact that isaac is really annoying and fucking over wallachia; he never makes note of the dark power they served dracula with (just that their power, unlabelled, rivals death), he never brings up hectors past as a point against him (except to say that he probably shouldve died escaping dracula, which is crazy), he never says anything to the effect of giving us the impression he judges the forgemasters or hector for their 'career path' or their abilities - for the most part, trevor is just mean for excusable (but very dickish) reasons that don't tie into prejudices, which i think is accurate enough to the way he treats alucard - he seems to overall have an almost irresponsible level of disregard for the nature of dark power and inherently evil alignment in general, especially considering article a, the abyss whip (gotta love defiling sacred family heirlooms in the name of a 30+ atk boost, am i right gang?). so generally speaking, i feel like while this is a valid interpretation to have, its more of an almost leon character trait to have than a trevor one, or at least thats what id think. trevor is just an asshole (affectionate). almost all of his conflict with hector and isaac is derived from a general idea of "isaac is causing shit, im going to stop him, dont get in my way, he's my problem to deal with, shove off", likely in part because he just almost killed hector and therefore considers him too weak to handle isaac on his own, although his weird obsessiveness with issac is its own problem... yeah. he calms down markedly once hector proves he can hold his own, so thats something!

though, if you really wanted to, you could interpret his ease in spilling his own blood to assist hector as a holdover from his days of having a vampire friend, whether alucard prompted his general nonchalance about things he really shouldn't be nonchalant about or not... which is a certain kind of bias/expectations being applied :p

[twobrokenwyngs]

Jackie I'm still saving the last ep but. I need to hear your thoughts about TD. Is there a tag where you've screamed about it? Or feel free to do it again!! What do you love about it. Tell meeee

screaming and crying over this ask tbhhh

firstly - I do have a true detective tag! and a rust cohle tag! and a rust x marty tag! and although I don't have a distinct tag for meta & such, I infuse most of my reblogs with an insane amount of unhinged raving in the tags, so, lmao. it's def there if you want it! XD

secondly - there is actually a lot I can't say without you having seen the last episode, in particular the way the show ends. one of the things I love is the fullness of their arc(s) and the way they're changed by the end, for which you gotta see how it wraps up!!!

all that aside though... man. why I love this show is almost too big and amorphous to answer lol, but I'll give it a shot!

lmao whoops this got long

I mean... one obvious variable is Rust himself. I am so endlessly compelled by both the tragedy and the potential of him. by thinking about who he used to be - when he had Sophia, when he had Claire. he tells Papania and Gilbough that the job didn't make him that way but that being that way made him right for the job, but was he always that way? was he always a lonely jaded cynic, a product of growing up in the Alaskan wilderness with nothing but his imagination and his synesthesia to keep him occupied? is his nihilism baked into his DNA or was it carefully constructed after a lifetime of being abandoned and disappointed, used and discarded? the thing about him is that he wears that nihilism on the surface, almost like a badge of honor, but there is always this pervasive sense that he is in a state of grief for the things he no longer allows himself - love, desire, softness, comfort, hope. he has made himself into this target for other peoples' pain and bullshit because it slides right off him, so he might as well, right?

like, the whole thing with Crash... that REALLY fucks me up. episode 4 is actually my favorite, and Crash is definitely a huge part of that. he accesses a whole different part of himself to inhabit that person. you can tell that during his time with the Iron Crusaders, he was like... their pet. fed drugs and passed around, used and abused, all for the sake of "the job," but it so clearly was a way to exercise self-punishment, an excuse to remove himself from polite society and just give in to his baser nature. when it came time to put Crash back on, he donned him like a second skin, confident to the point of mania, in a way that breaks my fucking heart. I could go on and on about Crash tbh, it almost warrants its own post lol.

and then there's like, the way he has somehow both no relationship with his body and yet a strict routine for its upkeep. he keeps the engine running (or at least he did, for a while) but he doesn't allow that body so much as the dignity of sleeping with a bedframe. he doesn't use it for pleasure, he barely knows how to control it when he's not using it for his job. and yet, every single thing about his physicality compels me. his slouch. his gait. his little mouth noises. matt mcc I can take or leave, but I think Rust specifically is one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen or ever will see.

okay... let me move on to Marty. Marty is fucking fascinating to me. he's a bastard and an asshole and a hypocrite and I think so much about the way insecurity rules his life. he makes all of his choices based on what he thinks he should want, what kind of man he thinks he should be, and he will delude himself to the point of absurdity in order to realize that vision. (it's why, in my headcanon, comphet plays a huge role in his relationship with Rust and with himself, but that's another story.) like, Marty doesn't actually want to be a family man lmao, but, he has to want to be one. where Rust has given up all illusions of being any sort of person at all, Marty has made pointed decisions about what kind of person - what sort of Man - he is, and that's that. so, nothing slides off him, because everything challenges his fragile sense of self. he overcompensates, he's a product of generational toxic masculinity - by all accounts he's a total stereotype. but like... that's what makes his relationship with Rust so goddamn irresistible.

there's just so much going on there, constantly. Marty claims not to want to get to know Rust, but he can't stop digging and prying, and his protests about what he finds are so... performative. he can barely show up for his own family in the most basic of ways but he's constantly bringing Rust food & coffee, voicing concern about the way Rust lives, trusting him, vouching for him - he cares. so much. and because there's no road map of Expectations to dictate that care, he never becomes suffocated by it. and Rust, despite himself, can feel all of that. it is no small thing for Rust, the eternal lone wolf, to have a partner. he most definitely knows Marty thoroughly - knows when he's lying to himself, knows when to call him on it and when not to. for Marty, he makes a space. carves a notch into the solid rock of his soul and reserves it for Marty alone. after their split, he never really recovers. neither of them do. Rust never fixes his taillight, Marty lets everything dissolve once and for all and spends years alone with his microwave dinners, because what's the point? what they felt when they were together, what they had, was incredibly profound and deeply beyond articulation (they're not willing to do it, even if they could.) and it is truly in the finale that you see the veracity of that change, what means to unexpectedly reclaim the thing that changed you.

anyway, this was just sorta a stream of consciousness, not particularly considered and very off the cuff, and therefore barely skims the surface of why I love this show. I'm sure I'm leaving out so, so much. and of course, it doesn't even touch on the baser reasons I love it/them - I love stories about bitter washed-up old men!!! I love the idea of what they could mean to each other! theirs is some of the only fic I've ever cried at or reread. their happiness, their future, is so ridiculously important to me. and I love the music! and the southern gothic vibes! and Rust's scraggly long hair and his insane mustache and how good he looks in that black shirt when he takes Marty to the storage locker!!! I love that from that first episode, the moment Rust showed up at Marty's door plastered and crying, I knew I was done-for. I mean. y'know?!?!?!

welp lmao. I don't think all THIS is what you asked for but it's what came outta me, so, hey. thank you for giving me a reason to think about them tonight!!!