#i also barely look different but i look just different enough that I Know and it's fucking with me

[ohbueckers]

MAKE HER TAPOUT. paige bueckers

description. your competitiveness with paige runs deeper than basketball, and tonight, it’s about who gives in first—or if either of you will at all.

includes. SMUT, 18+. a lot of everything, dude.. i got carried away. just read and find out.

a/n. dedicated to everybody that asked for it! lena’s anon, @kmoneymartini request and all of the comments on that post! saw an edit that had successfully inspired one of my freaky delusions again. also combined that fic i was talking about a few days ago into this, so it’s long but worth it, trust. will probably thoroughly proof read in the morning :)

It wasn’t the first time you’d found yourself like this—pressed up against the cushions of your couch, Paige’s hands roaming like she was trying to memorize every inch of you. Her lips grazed along your neck, her breath hot against your skin, and all you could think about was how you’d barely managed to get the door shut before she’d pinned you there.

Gampel Pavilion had ran a great deal tonight. UConn showed up big time—packed to capacity, ranked matchup, the whole ordeal—and Paige had been absolutely ridiculous. Twenty-five points, nine assists, boards in clutch… She was everywhere. It shouldn’t have been your problem how good she looked doing it, either… yet somehow, it always was.

But tonight, you’d edged her out. You showed up and showed out by one point. And one assist. A fact she hadn’t let go of since the final buzzer.

“Mm.. Paige,” you tried.

And now it was time to show up in a different way—one that didn’t require a ball in your hands.

“Had to one up me tonight, didn’t you?” Paige murmured, lost in the messiness of your lips as she rambled about how sexy it was. You smiled despite yourself, trying to keep up. “Paige,” you tried again.

“Hmm?” she finally responded, her tone as innocent as a baby. She laid you on your back, moving your panties to the side, letting the wetness between your folds instantly coat the pads of her middle and index finger as she circled at your clit. It was always fast, quick-paced. The way you both liked it.

You rubbed your feet together in attempt to ground yourself. “Mmph, you bailed on the team. I.. bailed on the team. Do you know how suspicious that looks?” you mumbled against her lips, though your voice was breathless, caught between tantalizing and surrender. Your post game plans were clear—head to Ted’s with the team despite that gruesome early practice the next morning everyone would be dreading with a hangover, ride out the the high of the win, yadda, yadda, yadda… and pretend you weren’t constantly aware of the girl now pressed against you. It was easy to fake indifference in a room full of people.

That was until you realized you weren’t feeling completely up for it tonight. The booze, loud music, sticky floors of the bar. Paige was in tow, of course, taking it as an opportunity. Alone time was hard enough to get as it is, and the two of you were getting increasingly bad at keeping this quiet. You were close to shooing her off, but she did indeed deserve something after that performance. So did you.

You almost thought she’d stop, but you’d be a fool. “Eh..” Paige murmured, her hand gripping your hip tighter as she pressed you deeper into the cushions, teasing your entrance with her other, like she was trying to erase the words from your memory. It was kind of working. Her lips brushed against yours as she added, “Suspicious of what? That I’d rather be here fucking you to celebrate our win?”

Your hands shot up instinctively, shoving at her shoulders.

“Br—wha.. Ow!” Paige exclaimed, holding herself up over you, a dramatic pout pulling at her lips. She looked downright fine, chain dangling in your face, arm flexing dangerously close to it too. “Relax. Nobody’s checkin’ for us like that,” she reminds.

“Sure, and the sky is yellow.” You squinted, not bothering to go into detail about how far from the truth she was. Instead, you changed the subject, partly because you couldn’t stand the way her chain kept brushing against your neck, and partly because her presence was messing with your ability to think straight. “Figured you’d be out cold by now. You’re usually asleep within an hour after games,” you huffed.

Paige tilted her head at you, her pout morphing into a grin. “Me? That’s disrespectful.” She faked her hurt, and you rolled your eyes.

“It’s not disrespectful, it’s true.”

“Don’t even play with me like that,” she challenged. “You know I don’t quit easy.”

It was your turn to grin. Uncontrollably, really. “Oh? You wanna test that theory?”

Paige was seemingly amused, running her tongue over the swell of her bottom lip. Your eyes darted there against your will, and she noticed. She always noticed. “You’re the one always tappin’ out on me.”

Your mouth fell open in disbelief. “Excuse me!?”

Her laugh was low, her breath fanning across your face. “You heard me,” she teased, her hand sliding a little lower on your hip, her grip tightening. “Last week, remember? Couldn’t handle it.”

Wow. Wooow.

Your eyes narrowed, your mind flashing back to last week—a quickie that happened to turn into multiple rounds. Jana and Allie’s grocery store trip had taken longer than the two of you inclined, and Paige used every minute. Fucked you right into oblivion, skills that had you begging for a break that she hadn’t been willing to give right away. You hated that she was right.

Paige smirked, and you wanted to drag it off of her face. “Just sayin’… if anybody’s tappin’ out, it ain’t me.”

Instead of scolding her some more, maybe even punishing her by not letting her have it tonight just to prove a point, you pulled her back in, hand gripping the side of her face that quickly begun tonguing you down, eyebrows furrowed in the midst of trying to keep up with you.

She adjusted her body lower, leaned into it some more. She thought you were done with the bickering.

“We’ll take turns.”

Paige blinked, clearly not following, breathing an airy, “Huh?” into your mouth.

Without slowing your pace, you grabbed her wrist and guided her hand back between your legs, her fingers grazing over your wetness for the second time. “Take turns,” you repeated. Paige pulled back a couple inches, tugging a swollen lip between her teeth as her eyes scanned your face, taking in the slight flush of your cheeks, and of course, your implication. The wheels turned, and her face softened. “Ah,” she muttered.

“You first,” you dared. And with that, you forced one of her fingers into you, scooting up on the couch. Paige froze for a split second, her lips parting as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard you right. Felt you right. Then her expression shifted, and her lips found yours again like a missing puzzle piece, dragging down your chin and over your jaw.

It would be a long night—truly.

“What you want?” she asked you. “Two. Up.”

The blonde immediately obliged, prying your leg open wider to fall against the back of the couch as she eased another finger in, twisting them over before pumping in and out a few times. “Yes—fuck, yes.” Your eyes flutter shut, head falling back against the arm rest in pure bliss. You rut your hips up, the same motion as her curling digits.

You should’ve known better than to challenge Paige to anything, but your own pride couldn’t fucking help it. Her competitive streak ran deeper than basketball, woven into every fiber of her being. It was one of the many things you had in common. Paige loved to push your limits, to tease you until you couldn’t take it, only to yank you back and dare you to do the same to her. It wasn’t just about pleasure—it was about control, about who could outlast the other, who could take more, give more, until out came a winner.

It’s also what made the sex so good.

You dissolve completely into the feeling, Paige’s long, slender fingers fitting as perfect as always. Her head is still dipped, kisses going around your neck, sloppy and full of her love for you, trying for light nips around your skin. A hand of yours falls to her shoulder, gripping at the muscle as your mouth plummets open wider, nearly like a yawn.

You can feel her smirk against your neck, the way her teeth catch on the sensitive spot below your ear. “God,” you manage to whisper, barely audible over the sound of your ragged breathing, words tumbling out in an incoherent mess, close enough to the one you make on the cushions. She was the only one that could get you absolutely soaked.

“I know, baby. Feels real good, don’t it?” Paige pushes a third finger into you easily, making you moan out from the stretch. She picks up on how your walls clench around her, gushes of your arousal coating her fingers, forming a white ring around the base.

You nod frantically, words stuck in your throat.

Paige quirks her head to the side. “That’s all I get? A nod?” she mocks, something she’s gotten increasingly good at since fucking you. “C’mon, use that pretty mouth. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

Your mind begins to leave you piece by piece, your determination to stay balanced pulling you back in every time. Your grinding motions become harder against her hand, moans becoming deeper by the minute, more pleasure-filled. Your stomach begun to tighten, almost like a hand slowly balling into a fist with a need to just combust and release.

“Paige,” you choke out, voice trembling. “It’s—it’s so good. You’re so—fuck.” You can’t finish the sentence, your nails digging into her shoulder.

She yanks you down, your body sinking further into her, your back forming into more of an arch. Shes giving it her all, and you’re starting to regret letting her go first. “What? Say it,” Paige coaxes as her fingers curl just right. “Tell me how good I am, baby.”

“You’re so good,” you shake your head as Paige slaps the pad of her hand against your clit, the sound entirely too pornographic for your ears. If anything, it spurred Paige on. “You know you are.”

You chew down on your bottom lip, trying your best not to scream at how good the feeling is. “Sound s’sweet praisin’ me like that. Y’gonna come all down my fingers, baby?” She moves them faster, the squelching enough to erase any no’s from your vocabulary. Her hand moves in a back and forward motion, and the more you think about it, the more the desperate need to let go becomes more evident.

“Yes,” you respond in a rush, followed by a few more of the approving word. “Right there, P,” you breathe, arm hooking around her neck to pull her closer, painted nails dragging against her cheek. You’re about to have what you think might be the best release of your life until it’s completely stripped away from you.

Shit, shit, shit.

“No.. no, no, no,” you whine, an antonym of your previous pleads as you dart your eyes open. Paige releases you from her grip, swinging a leg off the couch. You search for any hint of remorse in those eyes that’ve seemed to darken since you last looked, but there isn’t one. Bitch. She stares down at you with a bit of a mocking expression. “Please—“ you start.

You’re interrupted with the shoving of Paige’s fingers down your throat. Your eyelashes flutter back against your skin, lips wrapped tightly around the digits as you inadvertently lick your arousal clean off. With that, she pulls them back with a soft pop, admiring the glisten with a cockiness that has you weak.

“Start wit’ that.”

“Oh, my God…” Paige trailed off, whispering more to herself as she crooks her head to look down at you. New location: your bedroom. New motivation: the look on Paige’s face when she left you without an orgasm. You could play dirty, too.

You meet eyes as Paige pulls your hair away from your face, your hands resting on her thighs. Her basketball shorts were pooled at her legs underneath her boxers, and somewhere along the hurried way down the hall, she’d pulled her shirt off, the tension in her toned stomach revealed under the dim light of your table lamp.

Your tongue slowly moves between her lips, licking and lapping up her wetness just to hum at the taste. Paige is losing it—fingers threading through your hair, the pads of her fingertips pressing deeper into your scalp at every stroke. She swears the sight of your head between her thighs is enough to bring her to release.

“Fuuuuck. Keep it like that,” she orders. You comply—let her think she’s got it under control—and she does. For a moment. Her grip tightens, guiding your head against her own clit to let you know just how she wants it. “Like this?” you tease, creating a suction. You bat your eyelashes, doe eyes catching her blue hues before they’re thrown up toward the ceiling.

“Gonna—shit.. yeah, yes. Keep goin’… don’t stop, baby.” You flatten out your tongue when she begins to move your head up and down, gruff, pleasured noises leaving her mouth in curses. She spreads her legs open even further, and the more she praises you, the deeper she pushes, the faster you move.

You’re very aware of how sensitive Paige gets after an orgasm. the number of times she’s begged you to slow down, to let her breathe for just a second, only for her to claw at you moments later, dragging you back like she can’t stand the idea of stopping. It’s a delicious contradiction, one you’ve learned to take full advantage of. It’s intoxicating, too… knowing you’re the only one who can reduce her to nothing more than trembling limbs.

“So close,” Paige mutters, her voice breaking into a groan. Her control slips with every passing second, though you aren’t sure how much of it she had in the first place. “Juuuuuust like that. Eatin’ me out so good. Always do.” She lets go with a continuous nod of her head, physically biting back a series of moans that would be too loud for the walls. You continue your onslaught, licking up what you can before pulling back. Her hips lift slightly off the bed, chasing the pressure, her legs tightening around you for a moment before falling slack again.

Right now, she’s no different—still trembling, chest heaving, the faintest sheen of sweat glistening on her skin as she tries to recover. Her hand is pressed to her forehead, covering her eyes like she’s embarrassed to let you see just how undone she is—her chest rising and falling rapidly, lips parted all pink and plump.

There’s a slight tremor in her breath when you shift closer. You trail your hand down her side slowly, eyes flickering up in search for any reaction. When you fingertips brush over her cunt—too lightly, really—Paige groans, her head lolling to the side as her fingers immediately go to grip weakly at your wrist. “Chill…” she trails off.

“Chill?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow as you press a soft kiss to her thigh. “I thought you didn’t quit easy? You bailing already?”

She lets out a breathless laugh, prepping for a quick comeback that turns into a shaky moan when your lips move lower, attaching to her clit. Lower and lower… plunging straight into her pussy. Paige jerks, her body arching involuntarily as a sharp gasp tears from her lips. “Shit—wait—” she stammers. “You gotta let me… Let me breathe, ma—“

“Mhm-mm,” you deny, pushing her hand away and dipping your own to replace your mouth. You drill into her all slow, curling just the tips of your fingers in the same way you know drives her insane.

Her head falls back against the pillow, exposing the elegant line of her throat as she swallows. “God, you’re such a… fuckin’ problem,” she breathes, her voice breaking halfway through as you glance up at her. You love it when she goes all dumb on you. “Don’t play fair,” you think you heard.

Her legs are shaking in an attempt to take what you give her, hands searching for something to grip in a last-ditch effort to ground herself. Your thumb brushes against her clit every so often, making her squirm even further away from you. “One more for me, PB,” you coo.

“Can’t—can’t…” She drips onto the bed more and more with every pump. You’re practically milking her out, splitting her open, and just like that, her release is coming quicker this time.

“You can’t what?” you egg on, hoping this’ll do it for her. You wonder how long you’ll drag your bragging out this time.

The lewd sounds of her arousal hit your ears, and you sigh in content, Paige’s body and mind becoming total mush under your service. There’s no fight left in her—the entirety of her being is begging without saying it. You know she hates that she can’t keep it together—hates that you’re in control—but it’s the thrill of it, the way her walls clench like a plead, that makes it all worth it.

Her breath hitches, and for a moment, you almost think she’s going to hold out. But then, as if that last shred of pride snaps, she does what you knew she would. Paige comes, her cunt pulsating against your fingers as she yelps, twitching every few seconds. You continue to talk her through it, working her over until her voice is as hoarse as a sore throat, raspy and wrecked.

Afterward, you move up slowly, pressing gentle, teasing kisses all over her face as your hand rests comfortably on the warmth of her stomach. “Tapping out already?” you whisper playfully, brushing a finger down the curve of her neck. “It’s okay. I get it.”

Her eyes flicker open, half-lidded and heavy. But just as quickly, the storm in her eyes shifts. Before you can get another word in, Paige’s hand moves up to stroke your cheek gently, almost…lovingly? It’s enough to throw you off, make you forget about those bragging rights. She holds your face for a moment, eyes flushed with intent. Then, without warning, she pushes you back, her brows furrowing in concentration as she pushes herself up, trodding toward your closet. With what strength?

“Strip.”

And that was exactly how you ended up here. Cowgirl, legs straddled on each side of Paige as she watched you fuck yourself on her, mumbling out a million and one different terms of endearment to kept you going. There was a receiving end, one she hadn’t thought about let alone touched, and you wondered how long she’d let you go before getting herself off too.

Second round, so close to coming, and you didn’t plan on giving Paige the satisfaction of knowing you couldn’t take it anymore.

She hadn’t took her eyes off you since you started. You avoided her gaze, hands gripping her ankles as you put on her favorite show. “Look at this pussy, baby. Fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” she praised, wetting her thumb before pressing it to your clit, hard enough to make you squirm. Your hips drove against her harder, causing them to collide in a sticky smack, the tip of her strap bullying the deepest part of you.

“So tight—shit.” Naturally, Paige’s other hand found your breasts, kneading the left before rubbing the nipple between her fingers. You winced, throwing your head back as your chest pushed further out. “Just squeezin’ around that shit,” she emphasized, voice so low it almost went unheard. She tilted her head to the side, hands roaming around to the small of your waist as your rhythmic movements escalated into frenzied bouncing, the length molding perfectly to your slick walls, stretching you to the limit.

She’d went quiet for a moment, a safe space for your moans and whimpers, pondering. “Get up,” she’d decided.

You paused, mouth agape as your chest rose and fell in gasps. “Paige—“ you tried, having had enough of this little not letting you come thing. Still, she’d tightened her hands around your hips just to throw you off her, and you quickly realized what she wanted. She didn’t have to say it. Bend over.

You perch your ass in the air as Paige settles behind you knees pressed on either side. You look just over your shoulder as she rubs the tip of her strap between your folds, head down and focused. You attempt to buck your hips back, desperately waiting to be filled up.

Paige’s eyes shoot up, and you pout playfully. “Please?”

She began to gently slide the tip into your leaking hole all at once, bottoming out. “Greedy,” she mutters, pushing down against your upper back to get you to arch more. Deep, deep, and deeper. She doesn’t start slow, rocking her hips toward your ass relentlessly, almost without any contrition.

Your hands gripped the bed frame, knuckles white, trying to ground yourself, but the tight pull in your core, the way she stretched you—nothing could keep you steady. Every thrust felt like a reminder, and as much as you wanted to give up, your ego was too damn big. This was all your idea, after all.

How the hell do you always end up here with her?

The thought crossed your mind for only a second, but it was quickly drowned out by the next wave of pleasure that hit, making you whimper. It was impossible to think straight. Her hands on your hips pushing you deeper into the mattress, your body now moving in sync with hers as though it were second nature. She’s addicting in all the right ways.

Paige’s movements stilled for a brief moment, and before you could register what was happening, she pulled you up against her chest, wrapping one hand up under your chin firmly. You locked eyes as her thumb stroked your bottom lip, prying your mouth open. She then prepared just the right amount of saliva in her mouth before spitting precisely into yours. “Mhm.”

Her thumb snuck its way in next, spreading it all over your tongue. Her brows crinkled in attentiveness. “You good?” She was genuinely concerned despite not giving you a chance to respond before she started moving again, slower this time, sensual. The intimacy was driving you fucking crazy, you needed a seatbelt.

You responded with a thorough swallow, sticking your tongue out to show her how good you were. Paige smiled—big and unattainable before pushing you back against the mattress. “Slut,” she degraded, making you giggle.

Another deep push, another moan you couldn’t hide, and you were already on the edge. Shit, not again. The thought tried to make its way through your foggy mind while your body pushing back into hers instinctively, now fully aware of how badly you wanted to come. With every movement, Paige made sure you couldn’t escape, that you wouldn’t want to. She was keeping you close, keeping you tangled in the heat of it all.

This wasn’t about winning or losing anymore. It was about feeling every inch of her, letting her pull you apart until you couldn’t even tell where you ended and she began.

Paige tugged her lip between her teeth, ramming into you like she knew she had a point to prove. “Fucking you so dumb. Makin’ such a mess… You almost there?” You nodded, followed up with a constant of yes’s that made the tight knot in your stomach even worse, even better.

The sounds of her skin slapping against yours and your loud cries of pleasure filled the bedroom. You gripped the bedsheets in preparation, the squelching of Paige driving into your soaked pussy like music. She looked down at where your bodies connected, enjoying the little squeaks you let out every time she bumped against your cervix. 

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

“You can.”

Paige took one hand from one of your thighs, using it to reach down and press her thumb against your clit, rubbing tight circles. Your back arched, a loud cry leaving your lips at the sensitivity that had been built over the course of the night. “Agh—Paige…” Thaaaat’s it, baby. C’mon. Come for me." And that's all it took for your orgasm to rip through you, your body shaking and Paige’s name leaving your lips like a mantra.

She pulled out, all five of her fingers speeding up and continuing their assault just to push you right over. You weren’t sure if she planned on stopping. Your body was squirming in different directions, begging and gasping for a break until your hand flattened against the comforter, tapping repeatedly in a form of complete and utter yield.

And just like that, your game was over.

Paige pried her hands off of you, letting your body collapse forward onto the mattress with no ounce of grace left. Your legs felt like jelly, and your breathing came in quick, shallow bursts as your chest heaved against the sheets. You couldn’t even lift your head to glare at her, too far gone to summon any shred of defiance.

Behind you, Paige shifted, catching her breath, but her voice was annoyingly steady when she spoke, dripping with smugness. “Ha,” she breathed out. “You tapped out. Like, literally.”

Your fingers curled into the sheets as you turned your face to the side, just enough to shoot a half-hearted glare over your shoulder. “Shut it,” you muttered.

But Paige wasn’t done. She scooted closer, her hand trailing lazily up your spine as her lips brushed your shoulder blade, voice teasing. “Nah, that was cute. You were all like, ‘Paige, I can’t…’” She mimicked—all exaggerated and mocking, before breaking into another quiet laugh.

You groaned, burying your face in the mattress, unable to hide the way the corner of your lips twitched upward despite yourself. “You’re so aggy.”

“And you’re lucky I love it when you quit.” Paige leaned down, planting a kiss to your damp skin before pulling back with a smirk you didn’t need to see to know was there. “I’mma let you have it next time, okay?”

…Next time?

[ditzydoe444]

MDNI 18+

eager bunny reader taking jason’s huge cock! ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

big dick! jason x bunny! reader

jason todd smut

it was no secret that jason had a big dick, the man was built like a greek god. he had broad shoulders, biceps that were so big they could easily crush you, and his thick thighs. you were pretty damn sure you could get off from his thighs alone. he was a good eight and a half, going to nine when hard, his girth was thick enough for you to see stars with just a few thrusts. he wasn’t as neatly trimmed as other guys you’ve been with, though you didn’t care, there was just something charming about a rugged man who didn’t care.

his big dick, also gave jason a big ego. he would text you late at night, asking you to come over, which you do because of the mind-blowing orgasms he would give you. he would fuck you like his personal toy, and his thrusts were deep and hard, making you were clinging onto the furniture you were on for dear life whilst letting out the most pathetic whines. the size difference between you two was comical, you barely reached his chest, so when you guys fucked it was like his own sex doll.

when jason texted you at 1 a.m. in the morning, you couldn’t help but respond within seconds. you basically jumped out of bed, wearing the skimpiest pyjama set, despite knowing that jason wouldn’t care. he would rip the set off within seconds without sparing a second glance.

the moment you arrived at his apartment jason kissed you roughly before shoving the door shut. “miss you sweet thing,” he groaned, as his hands gripped your waist tighter. jason pulled away from the kiss, his gaze scanning down your body in the small sleep set. a slow grin formed on his face, “you picked this out for me?” he asked gently tugging the small straps of your top. you nodded shyly, jason had never noticed small things like these until now, your intentions were to capture his attention, and now that you have you felt more flustered than ever.

“love that you thought of me bun,” he whispered softly, his hands roaming around your body. “such a good little thing aren’t ya?” his hands gripped your ass tightly, prompting a small whine from you. you needed him bad.

“seems like you are desperate too,” jason groaned before he easily picked you up, heading to his room. with the size difference between you two, jason would easily manhandle you, throwing you on the bed and putting you in positions that allowed him to fuck you like a fleshlight.

the moment he carried you into his room, he threw you onto the mattress. he didn’t waste a second before completely tearing your pyjama set, “jay,” you whined seeing how he easily discarded the fabric. “i’ll buy you another one bun,” he mumbled as he kisses you, “just let me fuck this pretty little pussy first yeah?” he asked before pulling down his grey sweatpants which revealed his black boxer briefs. he was so big the boxers barely did anything to conceal the outline. it was begging to be released.

jason looked at you with his eyebrows raised, “knees to your chest bun.” with no hesitation you lifted them up to your chest, where his strong hands basically pressed you down like a sandwich. one of his hands drifted from your legs to your waist gripping it tightly, whilst his other slowly traced around your wet folds. “already soaked for me bun,” you could tell jason just wanted to shove his cock in you, but with his size he always needed to stretch you out. “don’t have to wait jay,” you mumbled softly, god you were so hungry for his dick you didn’t even care about being stretched out beyond belief.

jason gave a small grin, “so good for me,” he whispered before he tugged his boxer briefs down, the messy untrimmed hair that pointed down to his fat cock that was already leaking with precum. you felt his fat tip nudging towards you, before he slowly sank in, you taking him inch by inch. “you know, i always love seeing this,” jason said as he gently outlined the small bulge in your tummy from him. there was just something about seeing someone much smaller than him so eager to take his dick knowing it basically impaled them in half. hence why jason always called you bun, or his bunny. you were always so eager to please him and a little ditzy, and god he loved it. the way you saw him like a god and how he could manipulate you just to have you drooling and choking all over his cock turned him on.

his large hands encircled your waist as he started to thrust into you, his fat cock disappearing into your right cunt. “you always take me so well bun,” he groaned at the sight, you were always so accommodating it was cute. “j-jay,” you whined, he was so big to the point you could come in a few thrusts alone. “not yet bun, we just started,” jason’s hands gripped your waist tighter before his thirsts started to pick up.

he held you so tightly you couldn’t even squirm, just forced to sit down and take his fat cock. you held onto the back of your thighs weakly as they bounced with his thrusts. you were making the most lewd noises, as you squeezed him tight. he was in so deep, hitting and abusing all of the sweet spots you had so easily. “mph- you’re so big,” you whined as the sound of his balls slapping against you filled the room. jason grinned. “i know bun, you take me so well like a sweetheart.”

“c-close” you whine, your neck craning to see the sight of his cock drilling into you making you so full and stuffed with a bulge. “you’re gonna come bun?” jason asks as his thrusts pick up, he loved watching you come, the sight of your eyes shut with your mouth parted open making the most erotic noises turned him on. “y-yeah” you babbled out, you couldn’t even think straight let alone answer this damn questions.

“have i fucked you dumb?” jason grinned watching you shut your eyes in pleasure. “m-mph, no,” you responded poorly, which only made jason grin more. jason’s tone lowered slightly, “don’t lie to me bun, or else you won’t come.”

the comment alone was enough for you to open your eyes wide, your brain was trying to come up with responses but failed as you were being fucked dumb like he said. “y-yes, ‘m being fucked dumb,” you whined, your breaths cutting your own sentences short.

“knew you were lyin’ to me bun,” jason grumbled, “don’t lie next time alright? liars don’t get to come.” you immediately responded, staring into his eyes your eyes wide. “i-i promise i won’t lie to you!”

jason grinned seeing how much power he had on you, the moment he pinched your clit, it was over. you let out the loudest moan as you came and squirted on his cock. you coming didn’t stop jason as he continued to drill into you harshly, fucking you like his own personal fleshlight.

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 6.2k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! baby fever!gojo, breeding kink, unprotected sex, established relationship, pet names (mama, baby), oral (f!receiving), talks of having kids and starting a family, ooc!gojo

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ The sequel is here! I felt like I couldn’t continue the storyline without at least mentioning the complications of someone like Gojo having a kid. It’s inevitable that they’re going to have a high level of cursed energy, so I wanted to explore the idea of sorcerers trying to live outside of jujutsu society constraints while also still having to adhere to them.

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

The heat is on because it’s mid-winter and it’s finally gotten cold enough to snow, but somewhere in Gojo’s sprawling apartment a window is open. Not wide enough to cause a terrible draft–not that Gojo cares because he can afford to open all the windows while the heat is blasting at full tilt–but just enough to let in the smell of the crisp air outside. Gojo admittedly isn’t overly in tune with his sense of smell, all things considered. His strength is in his eyes so he’s never bothered to mull over the things that aren’t associated with his sight. He can’t exactly see the scent of frost and he can only smell it as well as any other person, but the window is open because he knows you like the smell of light snowfall. 

His staring problem comes with the territory, but, in the comfort of his own home, Gojo can’t really be faulted for looking too hard at any one thing. Especially not when his eyes are locked on his pretty girlfriend laid up on his couch. You’re curled up like a kitten in a nest, tucked into another one of his shirts and bundled beneath the giant fleece he bought because you’re always catching a random chill. It probably has something to do with low iron levels and leaving the window open in the winter. He briefly considers buying supplements but the thought is lost as soon as it forms when his eyes catch on the distracting length of your leg peeking out of the fuzzy blanket. It’s a wide expanse of bare skin that belies a lack of pants or at least anything beyond another pair of those damningly short shorts you love to wear around the house. There’s the fleeting thought that your aversion to longer pants might also be a contributing factor to your constant chill but he isn’t about to mention it. You’ve never had any qualms about going against things he says, but it’ll be just his luck that you actually decide to start wearing pants around the house and then where would he be? 

Infinity makes his footsteps imperceptible, especially with the adage of the downy carpet. There isn’t even a twitch of your lashes as he crouches in front of you, staring at your face half buried in the blanket before he reaches out to touch your leg. There’s no need for him to have his Infinity up in the house, but it’s habitual at this point, as easy as breathing. It’s the dropping it that always gives him pause. After going so many hours, day after day, never truly touching anything, it always feels like he’s relaxing a tense muscle when his barrier comes down. Not necessarily painful but palpable. The same way you can always smell when a storm is coming, Gojo can feel when his Infinity dissipates even though it’s intangible by nature. And once it’s gone he can feel everything. Hot or cold, the temperature never really matters because he’s always in his little bubble of body heat, but now he can feel the artificial rush of the vents pumping out waves of warm air and the slightest chill from the open window. 

Goosebumps rise over your skin as he traces his finger up the length of your leg. The jut of your ankle, the slope of your calf and the curve of your knee to settle over the softness of your thigh. You’re warm in a way that’s different from the blasting heat. Soft and comforting and Gojo tries not to dwell on what that might mean for his constant lack of physical contact. He drops his Infinity on occasion. Especially to interact with you or his students that are doing nothing but feeding into his desire for fatherhood, but it’s still few and far between. More often than not, Gojo is locked inside the untouchable barrier of his cursed technique. It’s not exactly loneliness that he’s feeling but some type of longing that makes him settle next to the couch so he can lay his cheek against your leg and just feel. His Six Eyes still tries to tell him things, outlining the shape of your body buried elusively beneath the blankets in a silhouette of cursed energy, but he closes his mind to it as best he can.  

It’s always been something unspoken between you; your level of cursed energy. You ended up a bit like Nanami, a bit like Suguru, turning your back on jujutsu for your own reasons. He’s never forced you to come back, never really even asked why you left because he doesn’t exactly care. All Gojo needs to know is that you’re happier with your life as it is, living as a non-sorcerer. He can’t really wrap his head around your love of working retail when it’s such a mixed bag of benign and volatile customers, annoying bosses, and ridiculous hours from what you tell him. But it’s leagues safer than fieldwork and Gojo isn’t about to be the one to coax you back into active duty. He barely tolerates when the higher ups call you in to do menial managerial tasks when the school is shorthanded. 

Their excuse for still keeping you on the payroll even after all these years always boils down to something about death being the only way a sorcerer ever really leaves the business. As if jujutsu society is some kind of yakuza holding members hostage. The people in charge act like sorcery is an inescapable cult and Gojo will be glad when he’s done tearing them down from the inside out. And as if you can sense him working himself up even in your sleep, Gojo watches your lashes pinch and flutter before a hand comes slinking out of your fuzzy cocoon to settle on his head. Your eyes are still closed but the momentary tension leaves your brow as soon as your fingers skim over his hair. No Infinity, only comfort. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” It’s always so instinctual the way you reach out to him. You always have an innate ability to tell when he’s falling and needs catching. Even just the sound of your voice, low and thickened with sleep, is enough to banish any worries from his mind. At least for the moment. 

“Nothing,” he says just to hear you mumble back “it’s something,” like you always do when he lies about what’s on his mind. It isn’t a matter of trust because Gojo trusts you with his life. He just doesn’t want to plague you with all the things he’s mulling over. It’s really only important to him. You’ve already declared your disinterest in sorcery, he’s not about to force you to listen to him formulating a plan to reform jujutsu society. And besides, he can’t have you worrying because it isn’t good to worry when you’re pregnant. Something about stress not being good for the baby. Sure, you aren’t pregnant yet, but he can see it coming in the near future. 

It’s not like he’s worn you down, you’ve always been way too steadfast to be bending to anyone’s whims. It’s more so just that it’s time. That ever constant “soon” looming closer and closer on the horizon. 

“Quit your job,” Gojo says, sounding every bit like a petulant child. Finally, your eyes open. Just barely, only enough to give him a hazily unimpressed look. 

“I know that’s not what you were thinking about.” He knows you know, but he also knows you won’t press him on it. Even when you were an active sorcerer, there were just some things you didn’t want to know about for plausible deniability’s sake. No need to get your hands dirty, especially now that you’re not even active anymore. Gojo’s strong enough to take on the consequences of his actions, strong enough to keep you safe from the fallout of his decisions. And anyway, he’s far more concerned with his personal life at the moment. What he does at work becomes virtually irrelevant the second he’s alone with you. 

“It’s what I’m thinking about now!” He’s whining because it’s really all he has on his mind now. The idea of coming home from a long day of work and being greeted by the pattering of little feet as your babies rush to meet him at the door. He imagines them all chubby cheeked and starry eyed, pushing to be the first one he hugs when he gets home. He’s annoyingly fixated on the thought and thumps his forehead against your thigh, knocking against you over and over until you’re fisting your fingers in his hair to keep him still. 

“You’re annoying.” You mean it but he can hear the endearment in your voice. And just to really get on your nerves, Gojo starts pouting. 

“I’m lonely.” It’s true in a way he doesn’t want to admit. Never mind the fact that he has his cheek pressed against your leg, arms wrapped tight around your thigh. There’s always been that nagging sense of loneliness. The looming feeling that something is missing. Children or something else, Gojo doesn’t know. But he does know that he wants babies. Your babies. Preferably sometime in the very near future if you’ll let him. 

“Lonely? Then what am I?” He feels you flex your leg as if to remind him that there’s no space for loneliness between his skin and yours. But there’s a hint of something in your voice, that heaviness of unspoken acknowledgment. You’ve known him for so long, been together for so many years. Some things don’t need to be said for you to know. It’s innate, intrinsic. And he loves you for it. You’re everything to him, but what he decides to say is,

“The mother of my children.” There’s desperation in his voice but Gojo doesn’t care to be embarrassed. He’s been stuck on this for most of your relationship and he isn’t about to get flustered asking for what he wants for the umpteenth time. You haven’t shamed him the first thousand times he’s asked so he isn’t expecting to get teased on attempted one thousand and one. 

“I’m not pregnant yet.” Gojo perks up. That’s new. The two of you have had this conversation in some variation at least once a week for months now and Gojo has grown used to all the answers you usually give him. It’s always something like “not yet,” or “let’s wait a little while longer.” And he does wait, but he’s also woefully impatient. Gojo knows you’re not pregnant and that’s the torture of it all. You’ve already said you’ll have his children. Kissed his forehead and reminded him that not now doesn’t mean not even whenever he gets particularly sulky after being told to be patient. It’s always just a matter of when but he’s eager for when to be now. And something about your answer makes him look at you with wide eyes. 

I’m not pregnant yet. It’s teasingly open-ended, like you’re taunting him with the knowledge that you’re not pregnant but you could be. But Gojo knows you wouldn’t tease him like that. Not about this. He’s always been a tad bit overzealous in his pursuit of babies but that’s because he wants it so bad, and he knows you wouldn’t be cruel enough to taunt him with it. He trails a hand up your thigh, dipping beneath the blanket as he maps out the curve of your hip. A shiver runs through your body as his fingers dip under the hem of your shorts. 

“Not pregnant… yet?” It’s hopeful. A question lingering in his tone. Is it time? Will today be the day? You smile, going back to petting his head, and that’s all the answer he needs. “You looking to change that, mama?” 

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask again,” you tease. “Thought you kept track of my ovulation window.” You’ve been waiting? Gojo’s heart stutters in his chest. All he had to do was ask. It’s always been that way really. He’s been begging you for so long because he knew it was just a matter of asking when, but after so long of being told to wait a while it seems almost too good to be true hearing you say you’re ready now. 

“You better be serious.” He knows you are because you know how desperate he’s been for it, but he can’t help but want to hear you say it again. Hear you ask in so many words. He’s always begging and pleading and Gojo wants to hear you want it just as plainly as he does. 

“Don’t make me beg, Satoru.” It isn’t what he wants to hear but he scoops you and your blanket into his arms even still. He’s got all the time in the world to hear you ask for it and he’s not about to delay it any longer just because you want to play coy. He can see it in the way you’re biting at your lips trying to hide a smile, feel it in the way your arms wind around his neck. There’s a slight tremor to your hand as you run your fingertips up the column of his neck. He can almost hear the way your heartbeat has spiked, blood swelling with desire as he lays you down in his bed. It’ll be your bed soon because there’s no way he’s about to spend even a second more than necessary away from you. He’s been begging to get rid of your apartment for almost as long as he’s been wanting a baby, and Gojo is looking to have it all in one fell swoop. 

“Gonna have to move in with me, mama,” he reminds you. Marriage is a more amorphous thought. Really it’s just a piece of paper that will serve to complicate your lives. He’s the head of a clan and his wife will have certain expectations imposed upon her that he doesn’t want to wrestle with right now. Maybe later, when he’s made things better. But for now he’s happy just having you. You don’t have to be a Gojo just yet because you’re his regardless. You’re in his bed, wearing his clothes, wanting to have his baby. Gojo can’t put a bigger mark on you than that but he’ll sure as hell try as his mouth latches onto the sensitive skin of your neck. You make that same gasping sound you always do, a little shiver running through your body as your hands find his hair again. Your grip is tighter than before, pulling at the roots as he digs his teeth into your delicate skin. Usually he’d be more careful about where he’s putting his little love bites but he can’t bring himself to care right now, and you don’t seem to mind. 

“You gonna ask for it, mama? I’m not gonna give it to you if you don’t ask for it properly.” As much as he’s been begging for it, Gojo won’t settle for anything less than hearing you tell him exactly what you want from him. All he’s been hearing is you telling him to wait, so he’s not giving you anything without explicit permission. Of course you take your time with that, too, and Gojo is more than happy to indulge you. It’s like running a marathon and finally seeing the finish line so close within reach. He can count the steps, the breaths, the heartbeats it will take until he crosses the line and finally, finally gets what he wants. It’s what you want too, or else you wouldn’t have said anything. It’s easy to provoke him when it comes to this and he hasn’t heard exactly what he wants yet, but he’s still keen to get you out of your clothes. And for all your smirking silence, you let him. Lifting your hips and arching your back as he strips you out of your clothes. 

For a moment, all he can do is savor the sight. His girl laid out on his bed, so close to asking for his child. You squeak when his nose presses into the space between your breasts, skin cold without his Infinity to regulate his temperature but he’ll be warm soon enough. Already he’s soaking in the heat pouring off your skin. You’re that fuzzy sort of warm that comes with the first waves of wakefulness, eyes still half-lidded and skin nearly feverish as he rubs his cheek against your bare chest. You smell nice. A perfect balance between his scent and your own, mingled together in a heady fragrance that has his tongue drawing wet streaks across your skin. He shivers as you thumb at the nape of his neck, brushing over the cropped hair at the back of his head because you can’t get enough of the feeling. Gojo is almost certain he’ll be just as insistent with touching your stomach when you start to show. 

He can already imagine how you’ll look. Only a few months pregnant, belly just starting to show. In his shirts you’d look the same as you always do. They hang so big off your frame that no one would be able to tell what was growing beneath it. But he’d know. And when you got bigger the whole world would know. Belly round and breasts heavy, whole body changing to accommodate the little life you made together. Gojo already can’t stay off you and he imagines your first pregnancy will shatter what little is left of his restraint. 

“You’ll tell me what I wanna hear, right, mama?” He murmurs against your stomach. He kisses around your naval, moving lower to dig his fingers into the thickness of your hips. You return the favor, running a hand through his hair until your grip tightens, pulling his eyes towards you. It sends a stinging twinge of pleasure down his spine, scalp prickling beneath your rough treatment as he stares up at you. He realizes you’re holding so tight because you need something to ground you. He can feel the way you’re squirming beneath his weight, hips shifting awkwardly as he pins you down with his bright blue gaze. Gojo has always been so open about wanting to start a family yet you can hardly articulate the words to ask him. It’s what you both want, but after so long saying no he can imagine how hard it is to fix your lips to say yes. It’ll be hard to collar him again once you let him off the leash. 

“Satoru,” he nearly melts at the sound of his name on your tongue. The way you say it with such sweet reverence. He can hear the affection in every syllable. “I want it.” It isn’t some heartfelt confession but it’s just as sincere, and Gojo hasn’t exactly been asking for it in the most romantic terms. You aren’t begging yet but it’s a start. A slow one compared to how feverish he’s been in his desire to get you pregnant but it’s enough for the moment. He can hear threads popping with how quickly he works to get your clothes off. It’s his shirt anyway and he has the money to buy you as many new sets of underwear that you want for nearly ripping your panties in half as he yanks them down your thighs. The poor lace is mangled as you kick it off your ankle but he doesn’t hear you complaining. In fact, you’re giggling. Laughing and smiling so pretty as he kisses your knee. 

“What’s so funny, baby?” He asks. You poke him square in the forehead as he looks up at you. 

“You are.” You’re still laughing. “You’re like a damn puppy.” It’s not the first time you’ve called him that but it makes him smile every time. He presses his grinning lips against your skin and smiles wider when you call him a weirdo as he licks the inside of your thigh. 

“Don’t complain now. In a few minutes you’re gonna want my tongue all over you.” His tone is joking but he watches the word land. The way you go quiet, nipping at your lip to hide your smile behind a shy pout. He can feel your thigh flexing as he rests his head against your leg, squirming at just the thought of him touching you. Gojo has regained some of his control, reigning in his eagerness so he doesn’t get overzealous. The last thing he’d want is to hurt you. He wants the conception of his first baby–all his babies–to be perfect. Even if it’s him that’s asking for it, it’s not really about him. It’s about you. Your body. You’re the one that’s going to be going through the woes of pregnancy, so the least Gojo can do is make the prelude feel good. He kisses your leg again, sinking his face into the soft skin, absolutely melting as he frames himself between your thighs.

There’s an ease to the way his arms hook behind your knees, pulling you down the bed until you’re flush against his face. The sound you make when his nose nudges at your clit has his head going hazy, empty to anything that isn’t you. Sleep still clings around the edges as you moan his name, a low hum that’s steeped in fading fatigue. He can feel your body rising to full consciousness, finally catching up with your mind as your legs shift along the curve of his shoulders. 

You’re still so warm, that sleepy heat lingering as your thighs close around his head the moment he wraps his lips around your clit. He’s only got his lips on you for a second and you’re already squirming, half trying to run away from his mouth. Gojo laughs, the sound rolling off his tongue to tease at your clit. You whine, pushing at his head even as your thighs pull him closer. He whines when you scramble far enough to get away from his mouth, glassy eyes staring up at you like you just slapped him across the face. There’s tears sparkling in your eyes as you look down at him, brows furrowed and lips caught between your teeth. Gojo leans in again, real slow like you won’t notice if he moves at a steady pace. You whimper and start squirming again the second his lips brush against your skin. He tries to be gentle, kissing over the swollen hood of your clit as his tongue parts your sticky lips. A faint, whimpered “wait!” falls from your lips and Gojo pulls away, forcing back a groan, trying not to look at the way your pussy is drooling on his sheets. 

He presses a kiss over the curve of your mound, doing anything to distract himself from thinking about where he really wants his mouth to be. The mess of your arousal is drying sticky on his lips, leaving glossy little prints as he kisses across your stomach. 

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” His voice is breathless, muffled against your chest as he crawls up your body. You’re still trying to pull him closer and push him away, thighs locked around his waist even as you knot a fist in his hair to pull him away from your pert little nipples. 

“Fucking tease,” he mumbles against your collarbone, void of any true malice. It would almost be amusing if he wasn’t nearly vibrating out of his skin with the strength it’s taking to restrain himself. 

He can’t help but grind against you when you pull him into a kiss. It’s a heated mess of tongue and teeth, barely passing for affection. It’s desperation on the cusp of frenzied aggression as he grinds against you, cursing at the barrier of fabric between you. You’re already clawing at his shirt and there’s no mistaking the sound as Gojo shreds the fabric to be closer to you. His pants are a bit harder to contend with, made infinitely more difficult with the way you’re all but fucking him through the fabric, legs locked so tight that he can barely inch his hand between you to shove the last piece of distance between you out of the way. He knows the moment you register his skin against yours. You’re babbling, close to tears as you whimper his name. It’s a broken mantra that sounds so sweet on your lips. He only gets his pants down to his knees before you’re shoving his hand out of the way. He nearly misses the determined mumble of “make it fit,” too focused on the way your hand feels wrapped around his dick. 

It snaps him back to focus for a second. Long enough to worry about you hurting yourself without his fingers to stretch you open first. But all thoughts melt from his mind the moment you guide his dick between your thighs. He can feel the last threads of his self control unwinding bit by bit as you clumsily guide him where you want him. It’s a messy drag up and down your slit before he catches against your entrance. He can feel how eager you are, clenching at his head as he grips at your hips to keep you still. 

“Just the tip,” he stutters even as you groan out your despair. “Be patient, baby, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” He still has the taste of you on the back of his tongue, that orgasm that you ruined for yourself. He can feel the way you’re still trying to pull him in closer, heels digging into the small of his back to no avail. Gojo is stronger than you. The strongest ever. And even when he’s on the cusp of coming–pitiful when he’s barely inside you–he can keep himself from giving into temptation if it means keeping you from harm. Even if you want it now, you’ll be cursing and whining about how sore you are later and he wants this to be a good memory. It’s messy and fast but he can still practically see the hearts in your eyes when he looks down at you. Then you smile and he knows he’s a goner. 

“I’m gonna come,” Gojo says without a shred of embarrassment. He’s long past that as he feels your pussy suck at the tip of his cock. He doesn’t go any deeper, still feeding you shallow thrusts as he goes over the edge. It’s a disappointment to watch the steaks of white spilling out of you when he pulls back, sticky threads still clinging between you. 

“Gotta keep it inside, mama,” he murmurs, already cleaning up the mess with his fingers. Your hand is on his shoulder the second he curls his fingers inside you. Pushing and pulling as your nails scratch across his skin. Only you can ever leave marks on him, only you can ever touch him like this. He gets drunk off the thought, balancing himself on his forearm as he presses his forehead against yours. Your face is wet, smeared with tears and spit and sweat. You look dewy in the lowlight, eyes glittering up at him. It’s muscle memory getting you to the edge. He knows just where to press, just how deep you need it. It’s so second nature that Gojo nearly forgets he’s got his fingers inside you until you shove your hand between your bodies, rubbing desperately at your neglected clit until your back is arching, pressing your chest against his. He can feel your heart fluttering behind your breasts as your nipples skim over his bare skin. 

When you finally sag against the sheets, coming down from the high, your hand slinks over his shoulder until you’re cupping his cheek. Gojo leans into the touch like it’s the last thing he’ll ever feel. 

“It’s time, Satoru,” you say, voice soft and breathless. “Let’s have a baby.” 

The sound he makes sounds pitifully desperate even to his own ears but Gojo can’t bring himself to stifle his voice. He only gets louder when he’s inside you again. An orgasm has you loosened enough to take him now, pulling him in with three deep strokes.

“Just like that, mama,” he murmurs. You’re less erratic now, far calmer after coming once already. “Not running now, are you?” You have the nerve to look bashful, looking away as he rubs his hands down your sides. It’s easy to guide you now, to get you to follow his rhythm as he bottoms out inside you with each thrust. There’s something so enamored about your eyes as you stare up at him. Dazed and half-lidded, full of adoration as you catch his arm where he’s holding your hips. The adoration that floods through him the moment he feels your thumb brushing against his wrist is enough to nearly choke him. Fuck, he wants to marry you. Wants you to be his in every way possible. But there’s still a thousand things he needs to do first. Things to make the world better for you and your baby. His eyes fall to your stomach, vision almost doubling from how hard he’s staring at your tummy. There’ll be a baby in there soon. His baby. Gojo feels himself getting close at the thought. 

“Eyes on me, baby.” It’s a sound like music as you call his attention back to your face. Something you only say when his eyes are closed. He was lost in his dreams of the future. Of babies with his name and your face. 

“I’m here,” he assures you, panting the words against your parted lips in a messy imitation of a kiss. Words are spilled in a slurred litany between soaked mouths with no clear distinction between either whining voice. The sentiment is the same no matter which one of you is saying it. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

“What do you want?” Gojo feels himself murmuring. It’s a hushed mumbling that comes as the end of a long drawl of your name, so low that the syllables come out as graveled sounds against the edge of your ear. Still, you answer to the barest hint of his voice, back bowing off the bed like you’re drawn towards him like a flower to the sun. His arm fills the space, wrapping around your waist. He can feel the way you shiver on the cusp of falling over the edge, can hear it in your voice as you babble your answer of, “you, you, you, just you!” 

“My babies?” He can’t help but goad and tease even though he’s so deep inside you that there’s no question of what you want from him. Still, you answer. Clawing at his shoulders as you do. 

“Yes, Satoru! Your babies, only yours!” It lights something deep and possessive in his chest as he reaches a hand down to rub the shape of his name on your clit. It’s the best he can offer with no ring, no wedding. Writing his name on your skin, pressing his mark into every corner of your body until he can do it the right way. 

“My babies. My girl.” He sets his teeth against the skin of your throat, tasting the sweat as the sound of your voice vibrates across his tongue. There’s no mistake of what you want when you come. Your legs lock tight around him like he’d try to run from the way you’re milking his cock. Squeeze tight like you never want him to leave. He squeezes you tighter in turn, fingers pressed tight against the shivering column of your spine. He spells his name there too, tracing each muscle as they move under his fingertips. He feels your hands in his hair again, scratching at the back of his head. It’s a feeling he’s come to associate with comfort–with you–and it’s enough to throw him headlong over the edge. 

When he tosses his head back, cursing towards the ceiling, your hand is still there to catch him. Brushing against the nape of his neck as your nose tucks up under his chin. He feels your lips wet and hot against the place his pulse is racing in his throat, and knows you can feel each whining pant of your name as it falls from his lips. It’s the only word he knows as his stomach flexes, ropes of come spilling inside you. So much that it starts to leak out in a dribbling mess. Gojo is quick to pull you up, struggling to his knees so he can keep his come where it needs to be. He’s still pulsing inside you, achy from the sensitivity as your walls squeeze around him. You start squirming as the high fades, wiggling in his hold and mumbling about “put me down.” 

Gojo hikes one of your legs higher, pressing a kiss to your ankle. “Can’t, mama. Gotta keep it in or it won’t stick.” 

He placates you with another orgasm, thumbing at your clit until you’re whining and shivering. He can feel the dull pulses as it washes over you, clenching his dick as he softens inside you. You’re so warm that it feels like he’s melting but Gojo can’t suffer the thought of pulling out just yet. But he does finally let you down. He follows you as you sprawl across the rumpled bedding, resting his head against your chest. He nuzzles against your breast until you snap at him to quit it when he sneaks a nipple into his mouth. He pulls away with a pout, kissing across your chest because he can still feel the way your heart is hammering behind your ribs. Your skin is hot beneath his lips and tacky with sweat but he can feel the goosebumps starting to rise with each kiss. 

A car honks outside. The sound carries from down the hall where, somewhere in the apartment, a window is still open. A draft blows in through the half-open bedroom door. He’s not cold yet, but he can feel the shivers starting as you cling to him, soaking up the warmth of his body. He lets you pull him in, reveling in the closeness. 

“Puppy,” you mumble affectionately as he nuzzles closer. You press kisses to his eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, the corner of his mouth. Places only you can touch. Even without his Infinity, people act like Gojo’s face–his eyes–are something beyond human. Sometimes he feels like something divine and untouchable but then your lips press softly against his eyelids and he’s suddenly just a man. A desperate, possessive man. He catches your mouth against his, licking at the seam of your lips until they part to let him taste your tongue against his. When he’s done he takes the liberty of licking a bead of sweat from your temple and you push him away, whining about him being gross. 

“S’not gross,” he pouts. “I love you.” He says it like an explanation. Like everything he does can trace back to the fact that he can’t breathe if he goes without touching you for too long. Tasting your sweat is one of the tamer things he’s done to prove his love. Sometimes Gojo wonders if you forget that he’d burn the world down for you. Then he remembers that he’s already doing it. For you, for your baby. For himself. His hand squeezes between your bodies to press against your stomach. Soon, he smiles at the thought. Now. 

“You should eat something, baby.” He hears you talking, hears the concern in that soft, satisfied tone, but you’re stroking his hair like you’d rather he fall asleep against your chest. 

“C’mon,” you say when he doesn’t move, patting where your nails left scratches across his shoulders. “I’ll make you food and then we can go again later.” Gojo chokes on his breath with how fast he’s trying to get his words out. “Calm down, baby, I know it takes more than once to make a baby.” 

Gojo watches you grab his shirt off the floor–the one he just took off, not the one you’d been wearing all day–tucking your nose into the collar as you waddle to the bathroom with your knees hugged tight to keep the mess he made from dripping on the carpet. Fuck, he wants to marry you. The look you give him when you come out of the en-suite, eyeing the way he’s tenting the sheets just thinking about his come spilling out of you does little to make him feel ashamed. He waits long enough for his body to calm down before he’s pulling on a pair of shorts and joining you in the kitchen. You’re bouncing around in front of the stove, making eggs even though it’s late in the evening. Gojo crosses his legs and tries not to imagine that you’re making breakfast before school, waiting for your oldest to finish getting dressed as you bounce your youngest on your hip. 

“You want pancakes?” He must nod because you start making batter. 

“You gotta move in with me,” Gojo reminds you, eyes watching the way your–his!–shirt hikes up every time you lift your arms too high, conspicuously checking for a peek of what’s hidden just beneath the black fabric. 

“My lease is up in like two weeks.” And just like with your teasing not pregnant yet, Gojo knows he has you. For good. Happiness suddenly smells like freshly fallen snow and maple syrup. 

[rowie264]

Jinx x jinxer!reader. First kiss

Warnings: mention of stalking, mention of possessive behaviour, fluff

After your first encounter with Jinx, you began to see her more often. Somehow, she always knew where to find you and where you lived, appearing out of nowhere. You wondered if she was stalking you, but you tried not to dwell on that thought for the sake of your peace of mind.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't like spending time with her. Jinx turned out to be completely different from what you used to think. Of course, it's true that she was dangerous and crazy, but you also found out how funny and passionate she was. It was really interesting to hear her explain how her bombs and other devices work, even though you barely understood the details.

She was an artist too, just like you. Her style was different, but no less fascinating. Sometimes you even painted something together on the walls of Zaun.

You couldn't deny your growing affection for her. Even considered her... a friend.

A few weeks later, you also began to notice that her behavior toward you was changing.

She was touchy from the very beginning – had no idea about personal space at all – but over time she became bolder and clingier. It was startling you at first but at some point you’ve got used to it, enjoying random touches and tight hugs as much as Jinx did.

But seems like for her it wasn’t enough.

She was becoming demanding and possessive. Often asked you to spend more time with her instead of Jinxers. Sometimes you caught her saying something she shouldn't have known (this is when you stopped ignoring whole stalking thing you had guesses about). Sometimes she would sneak into your bed to sleep beside you. Sometimes you have noticed that your belongings disappear for several days, but appear in the same place as if nothing had happened.

You knew you should be afraid and disgusted… but you didn’t. That's when you realized that you fell in love with her.

One day you came to Jinx's lair and saw that she was doing something at the workplace. You walked over and put your arms around her waist from behind. “A new project?” You ask, looking at the blueprints.

Jinx stiffens for a second before relaxing and leaning back against you. “Yep! A bomb that turns into smaller bombs jumping around before exploding!” She chirps with infectious enthusiasm.

“And the purpose? Besides fun I mean.” One of your hands starts slowly caressing her stomach, continuing to speak in as casual tone as possible. Today you wanted to push the boundaries even further. Do something that friends don't do and make sure that you were right in your assumptions.

“Ya know… bigger radius. Harder to dodge all of them too.” She tries to look unperturbed, but her breathing gets a little heavier, and you feel hard muscles tense under your fingers.

“Try to be careful with them, will you? Don’t throw it close to yourself.” You murmur brushing thumb against blue cloud on her side. Lately, you've been fantasizing about getting tattoos like the ones Jinx used to doodle on your arm. Those pink clouds were temporary, but you crave something more permanent - the real deal.

"I'm not that crazy. Besides, I haven't even built it yet." She snorts, but suddenly clenches her jaw when you nuzzle her temple, making her almost tremble with pleasure. She can't help but lean a little closer to you. Your tenderness makes her dizzy.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to do it. You are a genius.” You whisper into her ear and leave small kiss on the shell before pulling back.

The sight before your eyes makes your heart stop beating for a second. Jinx, the Loose Cannon, most wanted criminal in Piltover and simply craziest person you’ve ever met… had the most adorable blush in whole world. Her eyes were wide, lips slightly parted and it looked like she had squeezed the pen so hard that it broke.

“Are you alright?” You ask in soft voice taking her hand to inspect it for any signs of harm. Your concern dissipates upon finding her skin unscathed. Before she can say anything, you lift her hand to your lips and plant a kiss on her palm, looking directly into her eyes as you do.

Her mouth opens and closes, blush on her cheeks deepens. You caught her completely off guard.

“Aren’t you adorable?” you murmur out loud, slowly spinning her chair and leaning closer to her till your lips are mere inches apart. You can feel the warmth of her breath on your face. Her eyes flicker to your lips and back up. She is so cute, it’s maddening.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask her and wait patiently for permission. She looks at you, as if not sure this is real. After few moments she swallows lump in her throat and nods her head slowly, biting bottom lip. “P-please…”

Only then you close remained distance and finally kiss her, moving your lips against hers in slow and tender manner. Jinx tried her best to kiss back, but her inexperience shows. She’s a little clumsy, her movements uncertain, too shaky from nervousness and overwhelmed emotions.

As the kiss goes on Jinx relaxes more and more and wraps her arms around your neck, pressing her body closer against yours, as she gives in to new sensations.

The kiss slowly grows more urgent, and her hand clutches at your shirt. She’s starting to get a little lightheaded, letting out a small moan when you lean forward, pushing her slightly against the workbench.

You take this opportunity to slip your tongue into her mouth, causing her to whimper. She tries to mimic your movements swirling her own tongue around yours in passionate dance, making you want to deepen the kiss… but you stop yourself and pull back.

While you were both catching your breath, you could see her mouth slightly open as she stared at you with wide eyes, her cheeks flushed, and her breathing quickened. She looked absolutely adorable like this.

“Enough for the first time.” You murmur with fond but playful smile. She immediately pouts, which makes you chuckle and scoop her into your warm embrace.

[fadelbison]

Of Boats and Drama; The Turning Tides on Kant and Bison's Compatibility

obsessed with how when its during their make believe phase, when fadel says "I think I love you" to Style, Style doesn't say it back and instead just kisses him at the end of ep. 6 and during the kantbison parallel at the start of ep7 when Bison says "I love you" to Kant, Kant says "I love you" back but clearly there's baggage even if he's not lying outright.

But after the brothers kidnap their respective lovers its Style that fronts with the I love you that perplexes Fadel

and its bison that wants to hear it

but Kant jumps into the ocean instead (like you can see the beach front okay Bison is clearly devoid of killing intent here) instead of lying to him or say the same things he's been saying to dupe him.

I really think this is where the Kant and Bison compatibility is finally starting to show. Bison clearly loves his little fantasies and make belief of romance (just like style dear fucking god). I've joked before about how bison has given to his brother the lover he had envisioned for himself - the one who will plead his love, cajole and give in.

But that guy is wrong for him.

We've seen that slightly off dynamic between Kant and Bison for 6 whole episodes. And it's killed me that people kept trying to interpret them with the same rose tinted glasses that we do for Fadel and Style. Because the FadelStyle and KantBison relationship parallels aren't meant to highlight the similarities between the couples but rather the differences, that's where the information about these characters come from.

The audience knows something that Kant doesn't in the boat scene; which is that he has this in the bag already. I think this is the infamous island Bison inherited from his dad and he's brought him here to literally just talk. I know I mentioned this already but bison literally looks like he just untied the boat from shore and let it drift on its own while waiting for Kant to wake up.

Like that has got to be the minimum legal distance that a boat needs to be from shore to be considered unmoored lol. This is 'I am using your vulnerabilities against you because love is pain' shore distance not 'dead body dumping' shore distance. The body will wash up on shore before the boat even makes it back.

But for Bison, Fadel's reasonable precautions while we talk approach was not enough. He needed the ropes, the guns, the added ocean trauma because the guns didn't feel enough to instill fear, the pretty necklace he put on just so he could rip it off his throat, everything is already high drama high fantasy for him. Bison set the stage for desperate begging and tearful confessions, things he already got at the hospital btw but that wasn't enough either.

Because.

Bison doesn't need to be sold on fantasies. He had that and it sucked for everyone involved, what he needs when he's totally out of control like this is this guy:

[screenshots of Kant telling bison he wants to talk on land and he's scared of the ocean]

For six whole episodes I saw Kant be wrong for Bison and not be able to pinpoint exactly why people cawing over how cute KantBison are bothered me so much. Until, of course, Kant finally does something right and all of a sudden it just all clicks together. Bison is boisterous, headstrong and because of his unique skillset also irresponsibly dangerous. The BDSM scene also shows that despite his best intentions, Bison can and will abuse power if given to him irresponsibly.

He doesn't need the Kant that plays along with everything he does. He needs the Kant that Kant is to everyone but him. The person that Kant is when they're together is barely even Kant. He needs the calm, level headed but fiercely devoted older brother, he needs the guy that helps a hookup out because that's his duty as a human being, he needs the guy that stole cars to keep his family fed. And I'll be really honest, that's the guy that Bison loves anyway, the one he hears about from Babe and Style and James.

What Bison needs is the quiet devotion of Kant choosing his own personal hell over playing this game and furthering any deception between them even though technically it wouldn't even be a lie (Bison is literally poised to believe him); the dogged resolve that once he's decided to do this on his own terms, it happens on his own terms.

[pinkaditty]

Starstruck Coral (Romeo Lucci x Reader; Tokyo Debunker)

okay so uh. i don’t really know how to explain this one. like truly i don’t. i feel like it came 2 me in a vision from a higher power or something bc this doesn’t feel like it was my own idea, much less self-indulgent, but regardless??? i actually like it!!!!

a/n: what i can say is that this was directly inspired by me buying this lip plumper tint called "Starstruck Coral" and how literally everyone around me once i put it on was like "ITS SO PRETTY!!" so yea. that's what this is. also. yea. been writing a lot of porn-free fics lately. don’t worry, im not uninspired. rather, i just wanna focus on budding feelings 4 a little while. then it’ll be back 2 porn i promise. im too insane 2 be kept from porn 4 very long i fear. 

maybe part 2? maybe? idk yet i dunno. i might. i might not. we’ll see what my brain says…

summary: romeo cannot stand your visage so he styles it to his liking. why are you suddenly the belle of the ball? (leo, rui, haru, ed, and lyca make guest appearances here lol)

cw: some sexual comments. minors dni as per usual. no smut i fear!

“...Why are we doing this, again?”

“Shut up.” Romeo’s voice is practically seething with barely restrained anger as you interrupt his focus for the umpteenth time. He holds up one finger in the air towards you, not even turning to look at you. He slowly puts his finger down, and his hands twitch, clearly resisting the urge to ball into fists. “Just shut up. Let me handle this.”

Romeo continues perusing the available colors. Pearlescent White, Modest Matte Mauve, Cherry Pop Red, Hot Tease Pink, Starstruck Coral, and Raven’s Wing Black. He narrows his eyes and whips his head around to your face, studying your features intensely. His eyes pause on your lips, and he frowns as you roll them between your teeth nervously. 

“Would you stop-! Urgh, nevermind.” He starts before abruptly stopping, turning fully towards you and grabbing your face, directing it in different angles in the light. He pays strong attention to your lips, noting the thickness, color, and shape of them. He grumbles to himself, looking back at the colors on the shelf. Only one seems to be a perfect match.

Starstruck Coral. That’s the one.

He plucks it off the shelf and places it in the basket before stalking off to the cash register. He knows you know to follow him, and you do, meekly following his steps, still unsure of the purpose of this outing. You shift idly from one foot to the other as he pays at the cash register, listening to the general ambiance of the store. People chattering, items being scanned, wheels of carts rolling along the tile floor. You’re idly reading the label of a pop culture magazine when Romeo appears at your side, sour expression etched into his face. It makes you jump, and he looks at you with an even sourer expression. “Let’s go,” is all he says, his voice loud and demanding, leaving little room for argument. He walks off again, casting a look over his shoulder to ensure you’re following him, which you are, confused expression still stuck on your face. 

The two of you return to the Darkwick train station through a door labeled “Employees Only”, careful not to get caught. Once you board the train, Romeo unceremoniously tosses the bag of products towards you and sits across from you. His expression is enough to broadcast that he’s more than over this, despite having spent hours meticulously scanning the available products to find the ones that best matched your skin. He studies you again as you take your seat and the train begins to move. His eyes rove over your face again, as though picking apart your appearance in search of flaws. He hardly flinches when you look up and catch his gaze, though when you nervously turn away, he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Go on. Ask what you want to ask.” His voice comes out exactly as exasperated as he’d meant it to be. He would hope this would discourage you from asking any questions, but he knew better than that.

He watches you shift nervously before speaking up, looking down at your fingers fidgeting with the bag instead of making eye contact with him. “...What is all of this for?”

He exhales, already sick of answering your questions even though he hadn’t answered any. “That anomalous cloak does not do your makeup for you.” Part of him assumes this would be enough explanation, but at your still confused expression, he rolls his eyes and continues explaining. “I am tired of going on missions with someone as basic and unappealing as you. If you are going to be a constant, I insist you at least know how to do your makeup to fit in when we go on high-class missions.” He doesn’t bother sugarcoating anything. Instead, he leans back in his seat again, deciding this was a job well done. He hears the crinkling of the bag and pops one eye open, watching you as you study the products in the bag. You pull out the Starstruck Coral lip tint and suddenly you have his full attention. He opens both eyes and tries to discreetly lean forward, watching as you turn the box around in your hands. He was awful proud of that choice. It was the perfect ombre blend of coral and pink, not too warm and not too cool. It would match your undertone perfectly and it even had a shimmering quality to it. So long as you wore it right, he was sure it’d refine your appearance an exceptional amount. 

After finishing praising himself for his genius internally, he leans his head back onto his seat, content to just get this over with. As long as you didn’t look as constantly unappealing as you usually did on missions, it would be fine. He couldn’t get why, but it irritated him. Granted, your skin was okay at best. There were some acne scars here and there, blackheads all over your nose, and slightly puffy undereye, which he suspected was from not getting enough sleep on this accursed campus. Other than those faults, your skin was okay. No visible outbreaks or dryness. He had to applaud you for at least taking his advice to heart and moisturizing a little bit. It had done noticeable wonders, at least to him. 

He hears the unmistakable sound of plastic wrap being torn, and he perks up again, noticing you unwrapping the Starstruck Coral lip tint. He leans forward again, curiosity suddenly bubbling within him. “Put it on.” He says before he can think about it, his eyes focused on the small unwrapped box in your hands.

“...Huh?” You give him a puzzled look, tilting your head. His eyes flick towards you in annoyance and he gestures towards the box, his eyebrows furrowing in irritation.

“Don’t be dense, put it on!” 

You nod hurriedly, and he can tell from the way your eyes glimmer that you’d wanted to try it. He has to resist the urge to smile, your subtle but affirming reaction filling him with pride. He watches as you open the box and pull out the lip tint, turning it over in your hands before unscrewing it open. Romeo can already feel himself growing impatient, idly tapping his foot as he waits for you to start. “It may be a little messy because I don’t have a mirror, but I’ll do my best.” You warn him, finally unscrewing the tint, admiring the pretty ombre color. He sits up when you speak, and unbeknownst to you, a scowl crosses his face momentarily. You hear his footsteps before you see him, crossing the short distance across the train in record speed and snatching the tint away from you before you could apply it with shaky hands. 

When you look up at him questioningly, he shakes his head, holding the tint and applicator brush in his hand. “Just hold still.” 

With that, he leans over you, placing the thin tube of tint in your hands and firmly holding your chin, his eyes seemingly glued to your lips. “Open.” When you do as he says, he gently applies the tint to your bottom lip, pursing his own lightly glossed lips as he focuses. He exhales, and fails to notice the way you shiver, his breath fanning over your neck. His knuckles gently press into the soft skin of your cheek and chin as he carefully follows the border of your lips, watching as the plush skin yields to the pressure before plumping up again. Somewhat caught between a haze of his intense focus applying the tint and unexpected fascination with the buoyancy of your lips, Romeo accidentally smudges some of the tint. Despite his bubbling annoyance at his own blunder, for a moment, it’s an almost charming imperfection. The lip tint glitters against your skin, smudged just off the corner of your parted lips. If he were any more brazen, he would have given in to the odd temptation unfurling in his stomach to simply kiss it away. Fortunately for him and his own reputation, he’s far more proper than that. With a pointed glare at the corner of your lips, he wipes away the smudge with his gloved thumb. He glances at the sparkling residue left on his glove before wiping it away onto your top lip. When you flinch in response, he has to suppress a shiver down his spine. This action was inexplicably intimate, yet he didn’t understand where his flusteredness was coming from. There was no reason to act nor feel like this.

He applies the tint to your top lip in a more rushed fashion, suddenly wanting to replace the earlier distance between you two. He frowns when he finishes, nitpicking any slight smudges or missed spots, before stepping away, admiring his work. “There.” He plucks the tint from your grasp, screwing the applicator back on and tossing it into the bag. “...This might be good enough,” he says, feigning confidence, but he can hear the way his voice wavers with uncertainty, a part of him itching to do more. His gaze flickers upwards to meet yours and an idea pops into his head. He could do your lashes. They were long by itself, but some of the mascara he’d bought couldn’t hurt. Despite himself, he finds himself sitting back down in front of you, reaching for and holding your chin firmly again. He turns your head every which way, determining what else he could do to refine your appearance some. Unfortunately, he’s aware this train ride ends soon, and he feels himself getting nauseous at the idea of spending more time with you than he has to, despite the anticipation crawling up his spine. He reaches for the bag again, pulling out the mascara he’d bought earlier. When you reach out your hand to apply it yourself, he gently swats your hand away. “No. Hold still.”

He doesn’t give you much choice, still holding your chin and pulling your face closer to his. He purses his lips again, telling you not to blink as he applies your mascara. He finds himself staring at your eye color, noting the color of the mascara in comparison. Perhaps next time he ought to choose something that made your eyes stand out more, or maybe that’d be easier done with some eyeshadow in the correct shade. He decides to halt his thoughts there, scowling. He had to focus, and he was damn well sure there wouldn’t be a ‘next time’. He internally recoils at the thought of having to peruse the shelves with you over his shoulder again, constantly shifting your expressions, making it harder for him to focus. The slight furrow in your brow even now was distracting, and all he could think about was how he wanted to remind you that frowning causes wrinkles, and you would be especially susceptible to them if you didn’t keep up your skincare regime. Instead, he lets go of your chin and flicks you between your brows, frowning at you himself. When you get the message and relax your expression, he nods appreciatively and continues his task, moving to your other eye. 

Finally, the task was complete. His eyes flick back and forth between your eyes, watching as you blink at him dubiously. When satisfied, he pulls away, screwing the applicator back into the mascara and observing your face. Your eyes seemed wider and brighter, and the added mascara helped your lashes appear longer. Your lips were bright and shimmering, still covered in that Starstruck Coral color. Romeo smiles to himself, proud with how he managed to turn around your appearance with so little. He reaches for your face again, holding your cheeks with considerable tenderness, as though scared one wrong move would smudge and ruin the perfect portrait of you. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath as he gazes at you, checking your entire face for imperfections, glazing over the negligible or unnoticeable imperfections that couldn’t be immediately cleared. He exhales, feeling himself gleam with pride as a reluctant smile digs into his cheeks yet again. He sits down beside you, still holding your face. “Non c'è male…” He mutters to himself, finding his gaze lingering again on the pretty ombre mesh of pink and orange and red on your lips. Truly, Starstruck Coral had been the right choice. 

He’s basking in his pride more when he hears the shutter click of a camera, and a whistle in a familiar voice. “Now this will do numbers on WickHive.” The same familiar voice cackles and Romeo already knows he hadn’t moved away quickly enough to avoid the picture. One glance up and there he is, Leo, staring down smugly at his phone, where the incriminating image is probably being held. Surprisingly, hunched over Leo’s shoulder is Rui, inspecting the picture with a crease in his brow. Romeo cannot believe his lack of luck. 

Romeo catches it when Rui makes eye contact with you, and it doesn’t escape him how Rui’s eyes flicker with an emboldened interest. Stepping past Leo, Rui heads to you with an extra skip in his step, wide smile already spreading across his face. His voice is higher than usual, and Romeo wonders if mere makeup was enough to trip up the ladykiller himself. “Woooow, MC!” He stops a short distance away from you, his eyes flickering across your face as he takes in your makeup. “You look cuter than usual today. What’s brought this on, huh?” Rui’s tone is filled with mirth as he pokes your nose playfully. Romeo stiffens and has to bite back the urge to swat his hand away from your face. 

Romeo carefully watches your reaction, and is almost relieved when you don’t smile immediately. “You like it? I haven’t seen how it looks yet.” You reply to Rui, a little hesitant but clearly glad for the praise. 

Rui sticks his bottom lip out in a mock pout. “Awww, you should! You look so cute!” His face breaks out into a wide smile again, and it’s almost crushingly obvious that Rui’s a flirtier version of Kaito at this point. “I’m assuming we have you to thank for this, hm?” Romeo looks up to notice Rui’s gaze on him as Rui vaguely gestures in your direction. 

Romeo doesn’t resist the urge to puff his chest out a bit, folding his arms indignantly. “Indeed.” His terse answer doesn’t hide his swelling pride, he’s aware, but brevity is the soul of wit, which he likes to claim to possess.

“He picked out some makeup items for me.” You chime in, holding up the bag with a relaxed smile. It seems you’ve finally taken to Rui’s compliments. 

Rui shakes his head with a complicated look in his eyes, clearly picking up on the message behind the gift, but happy for you nonetheless. “Well, leave it to Romeo to pick out such a pretty color. It suits you.” Rui winks at you before finally finding a seat on the train, just across from you, taking Romeo’s former seat.

Leo, who’s clearly been either editing the picture or waiting his turn to soak up all the attention, saunters up to you, smug smile still on his face. Romeo doesn’t miss how your earlier smile seems to fade all at once. He would laugh, but it’s not that funny. 

“Gotta say, I agree with Rui. Who knew…” Leo trails off, his fingers reaching for your chin and holding it with uncharacteristic tenderness, tilting your face upwards towards him. Romeo notices how you stiffen at the contact. “...That the honor student could be—” Leo suddenly snaps his lips shut, and Romeo can tell from the way his lips purse despite being in a smug smirk that he had to bite back a compliment. Leo only falters slightly, brow creasing minutely before quickly straightening again, lips quirking back up into a teasing smile, more words as demeaning as they were saccharine sweet on the tip of his tongue. “Well, it suits you. You might even be unrecognizable enough to pass as a beauty in this picture.” Leo smirks, waving his phone in his hand. 

Romeo finds himself intervening before he can really think about it. He swats Leo’s hand away from your chin. “Stop that. You’ll smudge her foundation.” A blatant lie, but it would be sound enough to get him to back off, Romeo hopes. Something about this was fraying at his nerves. 

Leo raises a crooked brow at Romeo, a slow, shit-eating grin spreading across his face. “I don’t know, Romeo. The blackheads on her nose account for a lack of any foundation at all. Nice try, though.” Romeo should be thankful Leo lets it go, but all he can do is turn away indignantly, feeling his face burn with embarrassment. He hears a chuckle before light footsteps padding away, and gently exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. By god, of all people to board the train at that moment… 

Rui walks at a much faster pace than you and Romeo, strained expression on his face. He’d left Lyca and Ed in charge of the bar while he was off on a short mission, as he explained earlier, and could only hope that they hadn’t mistakenly set the bar on fire. 

Romeo was headed to the bar for drinks, and as far as he was concerned, you were coming with him. The earlier incident with Leo convinced him he cannot let you out of his sight for today. Leo had cited some excuse for not coming to the bar, but Romeo could tell from the grin Leo flashed his way that he can expect that picture to be all over WickHive by evening. A drink to forget it, even temporarily, would be enough for Romeo. 

Rui heaves a sigh of relief as he steps into the bar, glad to find nothing on fire nor destroyed, but Lyca doing the work while Ed sits perched at the bar. A red shock of hair buried in a white sleeve also denotes another guest. Romeo has to grit his teeth, remembering how Haru went on and on about you after first meeting you. He can only imagine the endless waterfall of praise he’ll surely come up with on the spot seeing you even remotely dolled up. He makes a mental note to bring painkillers for the inevitable headaches he gets when he comes here and Haru happens to arrive. 

Clearly, Romeo needs to be more forthright about how he’s trying to protect his ears, because when you plop yourself down in the seat right next to Haru, all he feels is dread. He quickly slips into the seat on your other side, despite there being no remaining danger. 

Rui, finally behind the bar, gently nudges Haru. He immediately raises his head, and Romeo can’t tell if he woke up that quickly or was already awake and out of it so soon. The faint blush on his face indicates the latter. As Haru reorients himself, Romeo notices Lyca peering at you oddly. He’d never so much as heard this boy speak, but something tells him he’s going to be as much as, if not more of, a headache than Haru. 

“Oh, hi MC-! …Wait. Something’s different about you.” Haru’s voice had its classic drawl it always had when he’s getting close to being hammered. Romeo’s sure it’s loud enough to be heard from Obscuary’s entrance. He watches, jaw clenched tight as Haru inspects you. Boldly, and probably not realizing how drunk he is, Haru reaches out, his gloved fingers lightly tracing the skin above your eyebrows. Romeo notices you don’t recoil at this touch, but he doesn’t know if it’s because you know he’s drunk or if you happen to not dislike Haru. Both options are less than ideal.

Puzzled expression still stuck on his face, Haru traces his fingers downwards, caressing your cheek. “Yea…” He mutters to himself, his eyes tracing the path of his fingers. “Something’s…” his fingers reach the corner of your lips, “...Different…Oh!” His eyes widen like it’s finally occurred to him, and his gaze remains transfixed on your lips, shimmering coral color still bright and undisturbed on them. “You’re wearing makeup!” 

“Is that what that is?” Lyca cuts in, suddenly appearing behind you, craning his neck to get a good look at your face. He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing your appearance before leaning away, satisfied. He crosses his arms, a light blush dusting his face as he tries to ignore the staring he just did. “Hmph. It’s pretty.” His compliment is short and terse, but Romeo can tell from your relieved sigh that you’re happy to receive it nonetheless. However, said compliment is quickly followed up by: “...You reek of the damn blond gigolo, though.”

Rui stiffens behind the bar, cleaning a glass. “Come on, my cologne isn’t that potent.” He looks up from his task to find all five of you avoiding his gaze. 

Ignoring Rui’s distressed cry of shock, Haru turns to you again. “Lyca’s right. It is pretty. Though…” Haru leans towards you, his chin propped up in his hands, “I always thought you were quite the looker, you know.” His smile is disarmingly handsome, even to Romeo. His flushed cheeks and lovestruck gaze probably only add to it. Romeo suppresses a gag, turning away. 

Rui, having partially recovered from the prior shock, also leans towards you, resting his cheek in his palm, partially hiding a cheeky smile. He hums in agreement with Haru, nodding. “Can’t disagree with that. You’re an attractive gal.”

Romeo shivers, ready to pull you away from Haru and Rui’s gazes. When Lyca cranes his neck to gaze at you again, Romeo snaps. 

“Will you horny dogs keep your dicks in your pants and your lascivious gazes off of her?!” He knows he’s one to talk considering the way your lips simply shimmering was enough to disarm him on the train, but still. This was ridiculous. 

“Really, now…” A soft, low, velvety voice echoes through the silence following Romeo’s outburst. Ed appears behind you, gently placing his hands over your ears. He mockingly frowns disapprovingly at Romeo. “Using such vulgar language in front of a lady…” He shakes his head and tuts a few times, a smile crawling onto his face. “Surely you know your manners?”

Rui chimes in, teasing grin all over his face. “He may need a refresher on them.”

With that, Haru, Rui, and Ed dissolve into snickers, just as Romeo bursts into a blush. Lyca, off to the side, looks a little confused. 

“I don’t get it. Why not use words like that in front of her?”

Romeo’s walking you home. He insisted on it. He wasn’t about to let a repeat of him being humiliated yet again by your side, nor was he going to let some other ghoul or normal human lay his eyes on you, at that. Maybe this makeup was a bad idea. But then, he turns to sneak a quick glance at you. Your expression appears quite pleased, and your shimmering lips are curled into a small smile. 

Well. Maybe it wasn’t that bad of an idea. 

“Thank you.” Romeo’s surprised to hear you pipe up, and turns towards you questioningly. 

“For what?”

“For the makeup.” You gaze at him kindly, giving him a small smile. He’s taken aback by it. “Can’t say you were kind about it, but I appreciate it regardless.” 

Romeo hardly stiffens at the comment. He knows he wasn’t particularly kind about it, but that’s the point. How else is someone who can hardly remove their blackheads going to take proper care of their skin? He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, letting his thoughts run around his head. Part of him wondered if he had another reason for buying you makeup in the first place, and why this entire gift felt like it was only going to bite him in the ass later. Maybe it already was, what with how you’d managed to catch the attention of every single ghoul they’d encountered today. But that didn’t make sense. Why would you gaining attention bite him in the ass? He shakes his head, a blush forming on his face as though he already knows the answer. 

“Shut up. Just use it on missions.” Romeo’s response is as terse as ever, quick and to the point. He watches as you roll your eyes, and something in him twinges, partially wishing he could’ve given a nicer comment. 

When you arrive at the chapel, he watches you bound up the steps, sticking around despite himself. He musters up an obligatory “Good Night,” right before you close the door on him, and he watches as your shimmering Starstruck Coral lips pull into a grin. 

“Goodnight, Romeo.”

He turns away as you close the door, ready to fill the rest of his walk back to Sinostra with more pondering. His phone buzzing in his pocket interrupts his peace, however, and he turns it on only to find an innumerable amount of notifications from WickHive. 

“Kurosagi…” He curses his name under his breath. “When I get you…”

a/n: yippee!!!!!!! im surprised i managed to finish this. i honestly like it a lot, i think it's really cute and i like the way i wrote it. i genuinely hope you guys like it too!!!!!

shameless note that, as usual, i love likes, comments, tagged reblogs, and asks!! please feel free to let me know in any way you like just how much you loved my writing! it's what keeps me going!

until next time!!!

EDIT BC I SOMEHOW FORGOT?: a few hc's im adding 4 relevance's sake:

rui wears strong cologne and douses himself in it

haru has grey eyes

that's all yippee!!

[p1astr81]

I love you, dad

in which: Oscar and Ryder face each other for the final time.

pairing: spiderman!oscar piastri x reader

warnings: angst, injury, cursing, kinda short, lowkey corny dialogue, lmk if there’s any others!

an: this will be the final part, thank you to everyone who has been reading!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

‧‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅

It was late. One in the morning to be exact. Oscar went patrolling after dinner at yours, but he couldn’t get something off his mind. Which led him to Tony’s doorstep, fist balled and banging repeatedly on his front door.

Eventually, Oscar’s fist met free air as Tony threw open the door. The older man was disheveled, hair a mess and eyes half open. “What, kid? What do you want?” He asked, highly annoyed.

“Is it possible for Ryder West to know who I am?”

Tony blinked repeatedly. “What?”

“Well, cause, he saw me—like—out of uniform, and I don’t know he was looking at me while talking about spiders so it felt like-“

Tony interrupted his rambling with a sigh. “He doesn’t know you, kid. Not unless you told him.” A pause. “And why would he see you out of uniform?”

Oscar stumbled over himself. “You know what, come in. I feel like this is going to be a long one.”

The door was held open for him. Oscar found his way to the couch and sat with his head hung. “So, I have a girlfriend.”

“Yes. I know. She keeps you from patrolling every night, this isn’t new information.” Tony twirled his wrist in a circle, motioning for him to continue. “Well, her dad is…” Oscar scoffs, stalling to avoid Tony’s reaction.

“Her dad is Ryder.”

Tony’s brows shot up, his mouth gaping slightly. “Wow. Didn’t see that one coming. But that’s a tough problem for you kid. Real tough.” Oscar just nodded.

“So I take it she doesn’t know her dad is evil Elsa?”

Oscar shook his head.

“Yikes.” Tony’s hand landed on Oscars shoulder. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.” His remorse was minuscule as he stood up, walking away.

Oscar watched with his brows drawn together in confusion. “Mr. Stark? Where are you going?”

“To bed. Goodnight Oscar.”

۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ

The landing was messy and uncoordinated tonight. He was trying to balance two cups of hot cocoa and a box of two chocolate donuts while also sticking a clean landing on the rooftop. Safe to say he failed. The drinks splashed on his boots and he just barely salvaged the donuts when he stumbled.

“Package retrieved!” He cheered as he sat down on the ledge beside you. You laughed at him and took your cup from his hand. “You make such a good delivery boy.” You bumped your shoulder with his.

He flipped up his mask just enough to eat, and through a mouth full of donut responded with, “glad to be of service!”

You chuckled under your breath.

After the both of you had finished your donuts, Oscar hummed. “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he continued once your eyes met his through the mask. “And you don’t have to answer but… why do your parents have a different last name?”

You shrugged. “My mom was an only child. Grandpa had no one to carry on the middle name, so they gave it to me at birth.”

Oscar nodded in understanding, his eyes on his swinging feet. After a moment, he looked up at you smiling. “You know, the lady at the donut shop was gawking at me the whole time. Super uncomfortable.”

You scanned him, eyes enamored. A tender smile. “Can’t blame her.”

Oscar scoffed a laugh. “Oh come o—mfph” he was cut off abruptly by your lips on his. Subconsciously, his body gave into your touch, leaning closer and getting both of his hands on you. “Gonna- mhh- gonna- be seen.” Oscar managed to mutter between kisses.

You broke away and tucked your hair behind your ears. Two hands placed on his biceps, you shoved him off the ledge and onto the flat roof.

“Now we’re out of sight.” You gave a cheeky smile before diving back in.

Before your lips even made contact, Oscar’s warm body disappeared from below you. He was perked up, his mask messily yanked back down over his face. He was frantically searching in every direction.

“What is it?” You we’re cautious.

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t know.” He breathed out. His senses were at an all time high, his body screaming at him that danger was inevitable, but the city looked normal.

“Is it your… tingle?”

Oscar nodded, in a trance.

Then his head snapped to the left just as a boulder of ice flattened a car. They heard the shattering and the crunching metal from yards away.

“Shit,” you gasped, a hand finding Oscar’s arm quickly. It secured you.

He got to his feet. “Get inside. Find a basement, or get under a sturdy table.”

“Oscar,”

He looked back at you.

“Be safe. Please.”

Oscar nodded before taking off.

Mid-flight, he activated his nano-suit. In the case of any sharp icicles flying his way, It would protect him better than the suit he wore currently.

Subzero swiveled on his floating block of ice to face Oscar’s direction. “Ah, and the bug is here!” His voice was loud, filled with disdain and malice. An ice shard, the size of Oscar’s own head came flying at him as he swung from building to building. He had to drop a couple of stories to avoid it, losing any elevation ground he had on Ryder.

“Arachnoid!” Oscar corrected.

“Doesn’t make a difference to me, I’ll squash you all the same.”

Oscar did not doubt the truth in that statement. He was very aware that it only took one boulder-sized ice cube to flatten him. But he wasn’t worried. He was quick. He could dodge anything that came his way. His main concern remained with the innocent people of the city.

Oscar swung underneath Ryder, hoping to draw him away from the crowds. Unfortunately for Oscar, he didn’t take the bait.

Cursing under his breath, toes pointed to the sky, he launched himself into the air and stuck to the side of a building. Eye level with his own girlfriend’s father.

“Last time wasn’t enough for you?” His laugh taunted Oscar. Another shard came right for him. He flipped, managing to web one of Ryder’s hands, and landed on the building opposite. The shard pierced the window, shattering its panes.

A blade of ice materialized in Subzero’s other hand. He made quick work of slicing the web.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

Oscar rolled his eyes at the man’s incessant yammering. He tried to web him up again, but he predicted Oscar’s moves. His webs met empty air.

It was a constant game between them. A web shot at Ryder. Ice flying in Oscar’s direction. It was a constant back and forth, and neither of them were winning. They’ve moved a couple of blocks from where they first began, and Oscar started to realize they were getting dangerously close to your place of work, where you were currently hiding out.

When he tried to move back in the other direction, he was hit with a solid rock of ice that blew him back, right onto a rooftop.

Your rooftop, he realized almost immediately.

Shit, he cursed quietly, trying to get away but his web was turned to ice, eliminating it’s elasticity and shattering it. He went rolling back on to the concrete rooftop, letting out a small grunt.

When he looked up from where he lay, Ryder had joined him. Oscar hoped you had the mind to get out of there.

He tried to get up, but Ryder had kicked him back down. Now a firm boot pressed his body against the concrete, cementing him in place. “I admire your determination.” Ryder’s boot pressed harder, earning a small groan out of Oscar. “But you were never going to win this.” He feigned sympathy.

Oscar’s ears picked up the smallest sound. Footsteps. He turned his head in its direction, finding you at its source.

Eyes shifting down to where you grasped a dull knife in your hand, his heart leaped to his throat. An attempt at communication was made, through the subtle shifting of his eyes. You hadn’t picked up on it.

You continued to advance, but your foot crunched on a broken piece of ice. Without looking, Ryder shot out an ice shard in your direction.

A broken gasp was punched out of Oscar’s lungs. You stumbled, the knife falling from your hands. Your hands surrounded the icicle that was impaled in your stomach. “Don’t!” Oscar shouted. Your movements halted.

Oscar was quick to web up the knife, and plunged it into Ryder’s foot once in his hand. Shocked, Ryder stepped back, allowing Oscar to get up. He ran to you as you continued to stumble. You tried to stay on your feet. You were disoriented. That much was clear.

His instinct took over. Webs were shot across the rooftop. As many as he could manage. He stuck Ryder to the very ledge the both of you sat on each night.

You slumped against Oscar. Heavy breaths. Eyes half open. An attempt at a smile. A hand coming up to cup his cheek.

The tears fell fast. His fear undeniable. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” He was unsure which one of you he was trying to reassure, but he kept repeating the words.

Your name was called. A tone of horror. Your father. He struggled against his restraints. You squinted at him. Tried to identify him. You couldn’t. Not when your eyes were as unfocused as they were.

“Friday, alert Mr. Stark.”

“Right away.”

“Oscar,” you breathed out. Affection.

A shaky breath. “I’m gonna get you to a hospital.” He stood. You slumped against him. “Hold on as tight as you can for me, yeah?” Oscar was choking on his own tears at this point.

“But… I’ll get blood on your suit.” A feeble laugh. A shuttered sob. He was failing at holding it together. “That’s okay. I can wash it.”

Oscar shot off into the air. A yell of objection following him.

A slight whimper. “Hurts.” You managed. “I know.” He repeated over again.

Tears blurred his vision, nearly running into a stoplight. “You’re a reckless swinger.” You muttered. Oscar gave a weak laugh at the fact you’d called him a swinger.

He landed right outside the ER. Your legs gave way. “Woah, hey. Okay.” He was sure his mask would be soaked through with tears if it wasn’t for the nano technology.

He picked you up bridal style. “I need a doctor!” He pleaded, not caring how broken his voice sounded.

۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ

You shifted, letting out a low grunt. Your abdomen housed a dull, throbbing pain. You tried to move your arm but it’s mobility was restricted by a light weight.

Oscar’s head. Eyes closed. Asleep. His eyebrows were furrowed. His body tense. “Os,” your other hand threaded it’s fingers through his hair.

He stirred but didn’t wake. “Hey,” you poked his shoulder. He slowly lifted his head, blinking a couple of times before gasping loudly. “You’re up.” He was shocked, arms wrapping around your neck to pull you into him. He let go when you winced. “Sorry.” He stepped back.

You made him room on the bed, allowing him to sit next to you. “Where are my parents?”

Oscar’s eyes could no longer meet yours. His hands were suddenly fascinating. “Your mom is on a work trip.”

You blinked. “How long have I been out?”

“Two days. Medically induced coma. They said it would help with recovery.” You nodded. “And my dad?”

Oscar bit his lip. “He’s…” he sighed. “I shouldn’t be the one to tell you.” He shook his head. Your eyes widened. “What? Is he dead?” You were panicked.

“No! No… just away.” Oscar reassured. You sat up, wincing at the pain from the sudden movement. “Away? What the hell does that mean?” You demanded.

Oscar met your eyes. A deep breath. “Mr. Stark took him to a high security prison. In the middle of the Ocean.”

A wave of different emotions crashed over your expression at his words. Confusion. Sadness. Anger.

Realization.

Oscar’s hesitance when they met. On the rooftop, how he knew your name. The familiarity of his voice. “Oh,” you put the pieces of the puzzle together. Your eyes became glossed over.

Then the denial came.

You shook your head, the motion never ending. “He…” A shaky breath. “He wouldn’t have…” Oscar pulled something out of his pocket. A folded piece of paper.

“He wrote this for you.” He offered the small square to you. You took it between your nimble fingers, unfolding it carefully. You swallowed your fear, leaning into Oscar as your eyes met the first line of the page.

To my daughter,

I hope this gets to you, alive and well. I want to first apologize to you for the secrecy on my part. I thought it was better to keep this from you. My alternate self, subzero, wasn’t something you needed to know about. It would have put you in more danger than you already were.

I believe it is important that I tell you exactly why I became this. Twelve years ago, when the aliens came to New York and the world first became aware of the Avengers, I believed I needed to protect you from them. I believed they were frauds. They caused irreversible damage to the city and the people, I believed they truly didn’t care about the people. They only cared about looking heroic.

So I vowed to take out each and every one of them. I’d been building high powered weapons ever since then. One of them went wrong, and somehow changed the composition of my cells and DNA. That’s how I ended up with these powers.

They were never meant to hurt you. I always wanted to protect you. This wasn’t what I wanted to happen. I’m sorry for it all, and that I had to end up in this prison without saying goodbye to you. I was angry with that boy that night. I believed it was supposed to be me by your side. I didn’t understand his connection with you, why he held you so tightly and why his voice shook when he reassured you. Until they told me who he was.

I know now that my perception of the avengers was wrong. They truly are trying to help those who cannot help themselves. I regret it.

I also want you to know that I approve of your boy. I assume you know he’s spider-man. I don’t know if that was part of your reason for choosing him but it doesn’t matter. Oscar is a kind, confident, and resilient young man. It’s become apparent that he cares for you deeply. For that, I truly believe he is what’s best for you. I don’t think there’s anyone I’d approve of more.

If this gets through, please write back to me. I don’t know if they’ll let you visit, but please ask Oscar. Maybe with your connections, they’ll make an exception. If not, I’ll write to you every week.

I love you,

Dad.

[pip-reynolds]

Has anyone ever actually tracked down Mr. Tibbs? Like do we know what stuffed animal they used for him, or was he too vague for us to find out what brand he was? I've tried looking around and I can't find anything that seems to match exactly (But to be fair, I'm not an internet detective, I barely know how to google correctly...)

who is this guy? I have no idea, but I do have a headcanon/half-baked and tiredly researched idea...

Meet Gund's "Blue Elephant" plush with silver satin inner ears and paws! Is he exact? Not really, no, but he was made back in 1980, I believe. It's a little hard to tell honestly... but the logo on his tag was used as early as 1980, also right when Gund was getting really popular in the US! Dennis would've been about 4 years old, making him just the right age to meet his beloved Mr. Tibbs and to start making his strong connection with the plush.

I can (And probably will) make a post comparing the two later, seeing how they match and differ seems fun. Anyways, I spent too long looking into this. I hope this is cool enough to justify that.

[aespabangedbang]

PORNO MOMMY and her playthings 🖕

Writer's Note: I wanted a try a new style so here is a requested Mommy Seohyun with foot fetish. I went with the porno mommy plot and it's full of filth from start line to end line.

About Banner : (I ALSO MADE 4 GREAT BIKINI PICTURES OF THESE 4 BITCHES for the story myself but that's too much premium for a free smut kekeke. So enjoy the glimpse of how great my NSFW pics can be. I have mosaiced the part I had to work on these pics.) 🤑🫰

Tags: (FULL CON), MILF, torture, taming, teasing, breeding, creampie, incest, pornstars, prostitution, little bit of NON CON, DILF, forcing into prostitution, foot fetish, ball kicking, bastard and stuffing the dick in every holes.

Warning: Pure Smut, don't ask for morality and ruin everyone's mood here.

Word Count: 6000 words, written freestyle so ended up writing more than I wished for.

🔜 Upcoming Smut - Ae-Revenge Series Chapter 1 (My family)

.................................

M : “Auntie let me cum please, fuck!”

I am twisting my limbs that are tied with the bondage chair.

Y : “What's the rush son? Let your mom come home first. Say cheese for auntie!”

Auntie Yoona taking a lot of my shameless pics from different angles.

T : “Look at that size Yoona, this boy has grown into a delicious young man.”

Auntie Taeyeon has been blowing my 6 inch plus cock for a while now. Her sexy blowing face would make me cum 100 times any other day.

M : “At least let me cum. I beg you, my balls hurts like hell, fuck!”

A triangle cock ring encircling my shaft, balls and the base tightly, painfully. It's just impossible for my cum to come through the squeeze. My cock has gotten red like chili.

Y : “It's ok kid. Let me message your length for ease.”

Yoona’s leg starts stroking my length with her feet. It's very erotic how this pretty lady is playing with me but the unbearable pain makes me gasp each stroke.

M : “Ahh ah nngh argh auntie please please please let me cum!”

A drop of cum somehow makes its way out the tip just for Taeyeon to lick it clean.

T : “The boy is very salty. I like it though.”

Not another single drop is coming out. This choke is crazy!

Y : “Don't be impatient kid, we’ll take your choke off once you finish fucking us all three. Your mom is coming soon!”

Yoona locks her lips with mine, her tongue darting inside making any further protest impossible.

My mom Seohuyn is a veteran pornstar. She earned enough money to stop doing that filthy work years ago but she still continues. All because she is a habitual nympho bitch and other than fucking she knows nothing. These two are her besties from the same industry and they are here to celebrate my 18th birthday, in their way. Despite my best attempt to stay away from the vile pornography world, my mom plans to drag me down with her.

So these two came early this morning to our home and forcefully tied me with the purpose-made bondage chair, a collection from my mom’s many fuck toys she use regularly. It's been an hour since they are sexually torturing my manhood. Sucking, slapping, stroking, squeezing on top of that triangle ring choking my cock veins. Just making it impossible to ejaculate. They are taking turns tormenting my manhood and there is nothing I can do about it.

Where is my bitching mom Seohuyn you ask me? She got this big gig today. How big? A gangbang shoot with 10 BBC where she plays the role of a Indian woman. Of course she didn't turn off such huge fuck fest for her bastard son’s birthday and left early in the morning. Don't ask me the rest, you know what exactly she did there. Speaking of the devil, I hear the doorbell chiming and she has appeared.

Behold my sinful slutty mom Seohuyn in her full glory, standing wearing a nasty yellow colored Indian traditional whore dress that's barely covering her tanned nude body. Her busty boobies are about to spill out of her blouse and the long skirt she is wearing has a full length slit that's exposing her tanned legs up to her nude pussy with every step. Despite my disgust, I can't deny she is looking absolutely sexy to say no. You would think I am lucky that I am about to fuck such a tease of a sexy porno mom.

Except I know what a masochistic devil she is. Being a single mom, or rather a bitch who forgot who made her pregnant, I was always a substitute plaything of her supposed husband, at the mercy of my bitchy mom. She started to exploit me early. At first it was just some light fellatio and I actually enjoyed it. Then one day she comes home drunk, gets full nude in front of me and the next thing I know is that I ejaculated for the first time in my mom’s pussy.

Being a young teen I used to love this sinful taboo. I used to wait eagerly when will my mom fuck me, making me cum again and again holding me tightly in her motherly warm embrace while my little cock getting melted in her furnace like pussy with each thrust. But eventually I understood what's wrong with all this when I saw all of my friends at school with young pretty girlfriends around their age. Eventually my friends found out I am a pornstar’s son and I lost literally everything a teen can have in life, except my mom’s pussy.

That's when I started to hate my mom, started to distance myself from her yet she kept abusing me again and again. I can hardly do anything about it though, cause despite all my hate she is still a seasoned sex machine and once she has you in her grasp, repeatedly thrusting your cock while cumming nonstop is all you can manage. I hate myself for it yet I can't run away from her irresistible holes.

S : “Happy birthday my bastard son, come to momma!”

She sits on top of me and squeezes my face between her big busty boobs, my face getting squished inside her cleavage.

M : “Get of me, I don't want to fuck you anymore.”

I protest knowing she won't listen, she never does. I can smell the musky scent of cum, my face getting sticky with it. Must be from the gangbang.

M : “You smell of others' cum you disgusting whore, GET OFF ME!”

I shout. But all she does in return is unhook her blouse and start rubbing her creampied bobbies on my face.

S : “Don't be mean, you have grown into such a fine man. Mommy is proud of ya!”

She forces her cum soaked dry areola in my mouth, the various tastes of different men’s cum filling my tongue getting wet with my saliva.

T : “Taste your mom's hard earned cum kid, she works so hard raising you fucking all the men.”

She grabs my cock and starts stimulating the already painful cock again. I can't even moan as my mom is stuffing me with her boobies.

Y : “Hey sis don't forget about us too. We have been good girl and didn't fuck him yet.”

Her lip locks my mom's to taste the men's milk she gulped filming the gangbang. Her moaning sounds like she is sucking something delicious.

S : “You’ll have your fill bitches. First let mommy fuck her good bastard to celebrate his birthday.”

She stands and unhook the poor excuse of long skirt, her mommy bushy pussy that gave birth to me and fucked me for years glistening with her own arousal and many men she fucked today.

M : “I HATE YOU MOM, I HATE YOU! Don't fuck me anymore, I beg you. I want a normal life, love a normal girl and live a normal life! Please…”

I am begging but hate to say my cock getting harder once again seeing Seohyun, that bitch’s pussy. I fucked it countless times, I want to stop but I can't.

T : “Is this your rebellious phase son? You are so cute. Here, have mom’s pussy to change your mind.”

Taeyeon aligns my cock with mom’s slit. It's already soaked with her own saliva.

S : “Here comes mommy!”

She locks her lips with mine this time, her darting tongue sharing all the men's cum and Yoona’s saliva down my throat. She lowers herself down on my cock. Once again, I am inside my porno mom.

M : “ARGHH MY COCK HURTS! At least pull out the ring! Argh nngh aghh…”

My body jerks from the sharp pain of my sore cock, more painful as now it's getting squeezed by mommy pussy as well as her entire weight on my blue balls.

Y : “Look at him bucking his hips to fuck his momma. He only rebels with words hahaha.”

As I said, I hate it but once I am inside my bitching mom I can't stop thrusting my cock in her taboo holes.

T : “Honor the hole that gave birth to a bastard like you kid. Fuck her, fuck your mommy like the professional bitch she is!”

Seohyun is riding on my cock like I am an actual horse, fuck how is she still so horny after a literal gangbang?

S : “See son you actually love mommy pussy. Your cock is pumping me like you didn't fuck me for ages.”

It hurts, hurts like hell but I am still thrusting upward as deep as I can.

Y : “He fucks her mom regularly yet they are so horny for each other. I should have given birth to a bastard like you too!”

For your information, I still fucked her few days ago. I, like a worthless shit went to her room and fucked her until we both fall asleep. And I hate myself for it, for my trained urge to fuck my mom that I can't control.

M :” Mom mom mom at least let me cum. Please fuck, FUCK MY BALLS ARE BURSTING! Fuck I hate you mom!”

I am feeling so on edge yet I can't cum. I want to cum so badly, so I am fucking her harder just to get squeezed hardest by those damn cock ring.

S : “Shhhh son, you got so many holes to fill today. Bear the pain baby! We are just starting.”

Cum getting pumped out her pussy with each thrust and soaking my cock entirely. All the raw gangbanging juice she has collected from vile men soaking my innocent cock. Gross, fucking gross!

M : “FUCK YOU BITCH! GO FUCK EVERY MEN IN THIS WORLD, LEAVE ME ALONE!”

In an attempt to protest I bite on her nipple only for her to squeeze my sore cock so hard with her pussy like I almost lost sense from pain. My eyes are hitting the back of my head.

S : “You are feeling it right son? Ahhh, mommy is getting close too. I love to fuck you most my precious bastard!”

Seohyun is now bouncing so roughly on my ringed cock, her meaty ass with the entire torso weight slapping my thigh and crotch, the smacking sound filling the room. My balls are feeling like getting squished into mashed potatoes every time her ass presses on it. My Cock almost feels like getting cut into tiny pieces.

M : “ARGH ARGHHH AGHH Y-YOOU ARE KILLNGGH ME ARGHH AGHH…”

With a convulsing body that can’t cum, I am squirming in agonizing pleasure. I never knew anyone could get this edged. Helplessly I have my first ever dry orgasm pushing my physical and mental limit to its best! My mommy’s busty tits are hitting my tearing face.

Y : “FUCK HIM SENSELESS SEOHUYN!”

Yoona is cheering and slapping her ass loudly and squeezing her udders to hype her up. Seohyun moaning from pleasure in response.

T : “Your boy is a treasure Seohyun, look at him taking your pussy with such vigor!”

She is busy spitting on my face and slapping me back to sense. The nonstop stream of dirty talk flooding my ears.

S : “FUGH FUUUUUUCK!”

With a loud growl my bitch mom starts cumming hard, who knows how many times she cummed today. Her whole body is violently convulsing on my tormenting manhood, as if a bucket of ice was poured on her. She is oversensitive fucking entire day.

M : “HURK HURKK HARK HURK…”

I can't cum through my pee pee but the churning pressure in my belly ends with me puking the food I ate before getting tied up. My warm digestives gurgle out and paint the tanned belly and boobies of Seohyun and go down my body. My orgasms hit me like a flood but I can’t cum, the intense spike in blood pressure makes me lose sense and that's all I remember.

Who knows how long I was passed out but when I woke up a sizzling hot, smelly and stingy fluid woke me up. I am lying on the cold hard floor, I open my eyes and I can see the pinky pussy hole of Yoona over my face, pissing on my face to wake me up.

Y : “Kyaa, he has woken up Seohyun.”

She pisses the rest of her load on my body and moves aside. I see my mom is sucking my cock like giving CPR to wake her passed out son. Taeyeon quickly move Seohyun aside and inserts my cock in her.

T : “ARGHH YOUR SON IS SO BIG!”

She immediately starts humping on my boy with all her speed and strength. The short woman hides her face on my pissed chest and rides me like a bunny.

M : “ARGHH FUCK YOU TAEYEON YOU CHEAP HOE! DON'T FUCK ME ARGHH!”

My balls are clenching hard, but it seems like I can cum now. They pulled out the ring, so nothing can stop me from cumming in these bitches!

S : “Fuck em son, breed your auntie Tae with a bastard son like you!”

She puts two fingers both in my and Taeyeon’s asshole, making it more stimulating for me.

M : “TAKE IT LIKE YOU WANTED YOU A NASTY PIECE OF SOCIAL SHIT!”

At last after hours of edging and cock tormenting pleasure I end up cumming straight into Taeyeon's pussy. I am trembling being able to cum at last, never cummed so much at a time like this in my life. My hands are grabbing Taeyeon's short hair. My cum gushing out her pussy and painting my sore cock white.

T : “AHHHH I CAN FEEL so much semen filling my womb! I am getting pregnant after this for sure.”

She pulls out from my cock and then smears her pussy on my face, painting me white with our combined milk.

S : “Good job kiddo, mom is happy seeing you breeding your auntie!”

My mom is stroking my shaft with her legs now. The tanned long legs and slender finger making a quick work out of my abused penis. It becomes fully erected once again, surprised because I was literally erected for hours.

T : “The Viagra is doing wonders!”

Damn, this breeded bitch doped my water this morning. Fuck, cock ring and Viagra; I am not losing my erection any time soon. And my hate becoming lustful pleasure as I can't wait to fuck Seohyun, that bitch of a mom’s pussy once again.

M : “I AM GONNA KILL YOU PORNO SHIT, I AM GONNA FUCK YOUR BRAIN OUT OF YOUR PUSSY FUCKING YOU MOM!”

I pounce on her and both stumble on the ground. I try to pin her but feeling weak from the override of hormonal surge in my blood. She easily overpowers me and gets behind, scissors her leg over my legs and squeezes my penis with both of her feet. Leaning on the sofa she easily starts stroking my shaft again.

S : “Easy son, mommy going to fuck you more later. But first fuck your auntie Yoona, she has been waiting for hours.”

While mom is busy stroking my shaft with both feets, Yoona comes over and sits on my cock. Her pretty smile and sexy figure would make me cum immediately unless I was already so spent. But like experienced sluts, they start hardening my cock.

M : “Ahhh ahh ahhh ah ah why is my cock getting hard again? Arghh! You are such a good slut mommy ahh!”

I can't help but feel my cock getting hard again. Yoona’s warm and slippery pussy, my mom’s warm soft boobies squishing in my back and her feet stroking my long shaft alongside Yoona's riding makes me close to cum again.

S : “Yoona he is all yours, he is getting close!”

My ragged breath makes it easy for my porno mom to guess my situation. She removes her feet and let Yoona freely fuck me like a possesd bitch. She starts kissing and biting on my neck, licking the combined juice of mine and Taeyeon. Soon enough I cum undone in her!

Y : “Cum kid cum me full of your seeds! I want a bastard son like you arghh!”

My seeds filled Yoona's pussy and maybe some even went into her womb. Not sure because I have already cummed so much in Taeyeon.

T : “He came again so much, it's delicious!”

Taeyeon comes and starts licking my cum from Yoona's pussy. Seohyun put me on the floor and rushes to blow my penis hard again.

S : “Your cum is salty like ramen broth, son, I love your taste.”

With skillful motion porno mom Seohyun taking my cock deepthroating herself and I can't help but get rock hard again. Her big boobs are jumping around with each movement. Her big round ass is rising up as she is lowering her head to suck me.

T : “Shake that booty for your man Seohyun, give your son some birthday show!”

She starts slapping mom’s meaty ass loudly, sending visible ripple through her butt. Mommy doesn't stop giving head, suppressing her gag like pro she takes my entire cock down her throat. I am over sensitive too and soon enough I feel my orgasm building again.

Y : “Fuck Seohyun, if I knew a bastard son can be trained like this then I would never go for abortion. Fuck!”

She is fingering herself and sometimes licking her fingers. But she isn't my focus now, my gangbanged mom pouring her soul to please me is all that matters.

M : “I FUCKING LOVE YOU MOM, I want to fuck you forever mom fuck fuck fuck me arghhh…”

I grab and push her head on my cock and shove my cock as deep as I can and then I cum. My body convulsing, Seohyun struggles to breathe but I keep cumming my big load, then I become limp. Cumming three times under one hour drained all of my energy.

S : “You have cummed such a huge load in mommy’s mouth son! Ah, your’s are really the most delicious cum I ever had.”

She opens her mouth to show me the creampied mess and then down it all with a big gulp. Her gaze and expression is as nasty and sinful as it can be for a porno mom.

They lift me up in the air and go to the living room. They have already put a gym mat there. They put me on it and start their next phase of sexual birthday celebration, without a single word. My mommy starts twerking for me, her busty ass and boobies dancing with each throw of her ass. Taeyeon and Yoona follow but they can't keep up with my mom’s twerk.

M : “I I-I WANT TO TASTE YOUR ASS MOM!”

I say weakly. With a thirsty smirk my mom gets on all four, throwing her ass back in doggy style twerk. I sit up forgetting my weakness and start licking her asshole. My tongue tasting the shit smelling gangbangd mommy ass that tastes of many different cum. It's not my first and now I don't want it to be my last!

S : “Liking mommy’s ass again? Tell me you don't hate mommy. I love you son. You don't need any normal girl. Your pornstar mom is all you will ever need! The only man who can ever own your mom is you and only you.”

She is clenching her asshole around my tongue. Thanks to her early gangbang, her asshole cleaner than most time. The musky intoxicating smell of her abundantly cummed pussy and salty sweat around her asshole makes her ass incredibly delicious.

M : “I LOVE YOU TOO MOM, FUCK! I don't think I can live without fucking you even a single day!”

All my protest to have a normal future is gone. My dream of normal life was nativity. I am a famous pornstar’s son so living a filthy life suits me. The only thing I can dream of is devouring my mom everyday for the rest of our life.

S : “LICK MOMMA’S JUICY PUSSY TOO SON! See mom’s lower lips are drooling for you.”

Despite getting gangbanged and fucking me once my nympho Seohyun is ready for another round. I start licking her pussy like a baby sucking milk, cleaning her soon after. Her cum always tastes like sour candy, I like the sourness she has down there.

T : “Fuck your mom’s ass kid. See how she is winking for you!”

Taeyeon spread my mom's ass, I can see mom’s puckered hole clenching to invite me.

Y : “Seohyun your ass is so tight and full! I can't believe you were gangbanged. My ass would gap and stay gapped for weeks!”

She spit on Seohuyn's asshole and finger it inside to wet her further. Mommy jiggling and twerking her ass to invite me again.

S : “COME TO MOMMY, FUCK MOMMA ASS SON!”

She calls me with a nasty nasal voice and I rush to her, setting my cock to thrust in my mom's meaty cave, Yoona’s hand helping me to put in her tightness but then the doorbell chimes again.

A young girl enters the house. She got a gift box in hand and came for my birthday. It's already evening. It's Lily from my new college. Nobody there still doesn't know I am a pornstar's illegitimate bastard son who is still active in porno industry. Poor girl steps right into our intimate sex session out of nowhere. She is the one I kinda fall for and already forgot that I invited her over thanks to whole day ordeal.

L : “W-WHAT THE HECK?”

She jumps back, drops her gift box from hand, whatever in it broke with a loud crack. Her hands on her mouth, eyes bursting out seeing me having sex with three middle aged women. Yoona is still guiding my cock, Taeyeon behind me just started to lick my asshole and Seohyun looked at Lily with authority.

M : “It's not what you think it is Lily that's my mom and these two are her friends I am definitely not fucking some random bitches my mom is a professional pornstar this is her birthday gift for me…”

I end up saying everything without taking a break, I am always kinda nervous around her and now that I have got caught red handed, I don't act and say all of it.

L : “O-OK. S-SORRY FOR DISTURBING YOUR FAMILY INTIMACY. I AM GOING.”

With a shaking form Lily turns around to get the hell out of here but Seohuyn nods her head to her besties. They literally run and grab her both hands, quickly pin her on the sofa and start undressing her. They are so fast that before Lily can even say anything she is already in her undies.

L : “WTF LET ME GO, WHAT'S THIS LET ME GO…”

She tries to fight back but two middle aged nude bitches with gym bodies restrain her instantly. My mom rises and goes to her swaying her big meaty ass. She grabs her mouth tightly with one hand to stop her yapping and tears her underwear in a swift pull. Yoona and Taeyeon lifted her legs up, now Lily’s squeaky clean marshmallow like young pussy on full display.

S : “You got a crush on her, right son? Then come and claim her as your. Be your mommy's worthy successor.”

She slaps then spreads Lily’s pussy lips apart, her pinkish brown hole makes me horny again. Like a robot I completed my mom’s instruction and thrust my cock into Lily.

L : “Mmmfp Mmph Mmpp Mmmfph…”

They have shoved Lily’s undies down her mouth so she can't talk. Her body jerks as blood flowing out her freshly deflowered virgin pussy. I start fucking her full speed, my cock going blur. This tightness is even greater than my mom's loose ass. So that's how a virgin actually tastes and how tight they feel. Fuck, her pussy is almost biting off my cock. I squeeze her boobs super hard, start pulling her boobs and nipples, making her moan painfully.

S : “How dare you bewitch my fucking son? He is mine, girl. His cock belongs to his mommy only. This is your punishment for crossing your boundaries. Get fucked like a bitch now. Getting fucked like a sow is all you are allowed to ask from my son.”

My mom slapping, punching, pinching and even pulling Lily's hair from jealousy. But she doesn't tell me to stop fucking Lily, her entire anger is on Lily being a delicate nice girl. So she is trashing her, making me fuck her like a bitch to make it even.

M : “You love me that much mom? But you fuck around so many men, how can I tell your love is real and romantic for me?”

I ask her with a fluttered heart. Now that I think about it, mom is so perfect as a woman. There are thousands of man drooling to fuck her, but outside her porno the only person she ever wants to fuck is me. My mom actually sees me as her man and I didn't understand it all this time. Of course my cock hasn't stopped drilling in Lily while being so fluttered for my mom.

S : “I am a nympho bitch, to be honest I need a lot of cocks to stay happy. But, at the end you are the only one I love. I didn't find any perfect men for me, so you who came out this needy pussy of mine are the best man for me. You are just as Horny as me, so you are my perfect match.”

Seohyun stop tormenting Lily and start kissing me incestuously, her hands around my head and caressing hair, my hip is busy fucking Lily’s pussy. Our tongues intertwined, her big boobs pressing against my chest. Agh I love my bitchy mom!

Y : “So cute you mom son fucking relationship but what should we do with this bitch here?”

Yoona alternates between choking and slapping poor Lily like she is a criminal in an interrogation room. Poor girl crying helplessly without understanding why she is getting fucked and had to lose her virginity to a boy who is already fucking three bitch all alone.

T : “How about leave her to us? We can use some good holes ourselves!”

Taeyeon starts rubbing Lily’s swollen bloody clit until she can't take it anymore. Lily starts convulsing and literally drench me with her virgin shower like pussy.

S : “Did you want to have my son without any sexual expertise? Look at you cumming from some clit rub! Tsk here I can take dozens of cocks and still can last for hours!”

My porno mommy flex in front of the innocent young girl who can never be as good as a pro bitch. She pulls me back, my hard rod comes out soaked in virgin blood and cum. Mom grabs my sore balls and starts squeezing them. Her other hand removes the clothes from Lily’s mouth.

L : “AHHH ARGH AHGHH I-I WILL GO TO THE POLICE, HOW DARE YOU ALL ABUSE ME? SOMEONE HELP ME…”

My bitching mom claws Lily’s mouth again. She guides my cock to her mouth and pushes me all the way in. Virgin Lily's gag reflex tries to push me back but Yoona and Taeyeon start choking her so that she can't cough me out.

S : “I want you to treat our guests with drinks, my son! Sticky white and hot golden drinks. Don't hold back, pour it all down her throat!”

My mom starts fingering my ass to make me hornier and being inside my college crush’s mouth makes me cum in her again. Lily never thought she would get treated like a sex toy by literal pornstars for going to a friend's house. I feel bad for her but still glad that I can fuck her up without any hassle of dating.

Y : “Piss down her throat kid. Come on!”

Yoona let go Lily’s throat and starts pressing on my bladder. With increasing pressure I overcome my orgasm and start pissing down Lily's throat, her face disfigure from the strong foul smell and taste of my golden piss. I don't piss much but enough to make Lily lose her sense.

T : “Good job kid. This good for nothing normie family bitch doesn't deserve your cum in her pussy!”

She scoops some of my cum from her pussy and start licking it, she have fallen in love with my salty cum.

S : “Take her with you and let our boys play with her. Record it. If she even dares to tell her parents about today, we’ll release it on the dark web. Let's see how this bitch can go to the police!”

My mom being the leader of a prostitution ring wields enough power to turn any girl into slut within a day. Lily better listen and keep her mouth shut or she will be sold into prostitution permanently.

Y : “Let's stuff her holes!”

She brought three big dildo and start shoving those in Lily’s holes. First Taeyeon shoves a jelly like dildo down Lily’s throat and then duct tape her mouth. Yoona pushes a huge cock down her wet pussy and tape it again. Lastly they sodomize her ass pushing a beaded dildo in all the way. Lily wakes up, tries to scream but other than weak whimpers nothing escapes her dildo shoved mouth.

Taeyeon and Yoona kisses me and give my cock some goodbye strokes before grabbing Lily and starts dragging her outside our house. Blood painting the ground from her double bleeding holes and making a trail all the way. They throw her in the back of their black microbus and leave for their brothel, the biggest one in the city. Taking my invitation was her biggest mistake, now she has to be at least a temporary slut for a few days.

S : “It's your fault for inviting her over. What did you think? You marrying a normal girl? In this world? Don't forget you are my son, my pussy gave birth to you. I OWN YOU! I am gonna punish you for even daring to harbor romantic feelings for anyone else but your mom, GET IN THERE.”

She literally overpowers my weakened body and starts pushing me around. I try to reason by raising my hand but suddenly she kicks my balls out of nowhere.

M : “FUUUUUCK ARGGGH AHHH AHHH AH AH NNGH AAGH….!”

I fall on the ground from immaculate pain. My already sore cock and balls now feel like getting torned apart, someone pulled those bloody away from my body. My body starts trembling from the intense sensation of dread and inhuman pain.

M : “W-WHY M-MOM FUUUCKKK!”

I am convulsing like I'm about to orgasm. Her kick stimulated my horny nerves and with a crying scream I start ejaculating once more. My back arching while ropes of cum spurting out of me. Though I am cumming, it's the pain that I am relishing in.

S : “Because it's about time you know who owns your body, mind and cock my boy. EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS MINE!”

She steps on my orgasming cock and uses her feet and finger to stroke my length throughout my orgasm, I am cumming uncontrollably until I feel my sacks have gone numb. She starts squeezing my balls painfully and with a sharp jolt I see the world going black.

I am lying senseless on the floor and peeing myself as my mommy Seohyun starts to tend to my wound. That's how s porno mommy trains and tames her rebellious son.

Epilogue:

Seohyun’s pussy undoing me. I only inserted my cock in my mom's hot pussy out of naughty urges but she is still angry for inviting Lily over. So she is undoing me by sucking me in her womb that gave birth to me. I am getting sucked like her pussy is a black hole, after my cock now my torso getting sucked in. No no nooo don't suck me in mommy don't delete me from reality no no nooooooooooo…

I jolt back and regain my senses. It's a hospital bed, I am lying there. Must have lost my senses from my mom's kick. They must have treated my cock. Is it ok?

I look down and see my mom is busy sucking my cock, deepthroating herself like she always does while blowing me. It's sloppy, saliva smearing my shaft and dropping on the bed sheet. She is sucking it almost like she didn't eat anything for days.

M : “Mom? Where am I? How many days have I been senseless?”

I weakly ask my mommy. She looks at me with my cock in her mouth and seems happy that I have woken up. But instead of answering me, she keeps blowing me full throttle until I end up cumming in her bitchy mouth. She pulls out and shows me the big blob of cum on her tongue.

S : “It’s been two days son! Mommy missed you inside me, mommy missed your salty cum.”

She says with such a lust befitting a pornstar. She bites her lower lip then climbs on top of me, goes straight for a kiss. Sne shares my cum kissing me as deep as she can. She has thrown her denim on the floor, her pussy pressing on my nude cock through her blue panty. It's sopping wet from her taboo arousal.

S : “Remember you were about to have mommy’s ass for your birthday before? Here, let me give you your birthday gift.”

She quickly pushes her panty aside and sets her puckered asshole on my erected cock. Then like she did the first time, she starts descending on my cock. Her face beaming with excitement like a teen about to lose her virginity.

M : “W-wait m-mom I am still sick and it's a hospital so how about you don't fuck me here someone may come in and see your ass and pussy and seeing us mom son fucking each other fuck fuuuck fuuuck…”

I try to say everything as fast as I can but she never listens. My eyes hit the back of my head. I am too sensitive after waking up after 2 days of sleep. My back is arching as she starts riding me. Her big booty squeezing my cock and smashing my balls under her weight.

S : “Ahh ahhh ah ah ah ahhh mommy is so horny for you son! I spent two days without fucking anyone worrying about you. Let mommy blow up some strees, fuck argh…”

She opens her white shirt in one violent pull, buttons flying in random directions. Then she pulls out her heavy big bobbies without taking off her bra. She shoves her right areola in my mouth and then starts riding me like there is no tomorrow.

M : “Mmmph mmfh mmph mmh Mmph…”

Fuck it, despite her asshole is pretty lose it's still tighter than her pussy. My cock getting tormented again and I can't stop her no matter what. Though I am loving the sensation of my momma fucking me so passionately.

Fuck my porno mommy Seohyun. I hate her for destroying my life but in return the holes she offers are irresistible. I fucking love your holes mom, I fucking hate you pornstar of a momma!

“Kyaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

A nurse have come to attend me but seeing my mom fucking me with her ass startled the uterus out of her pussy. She presses her mouth shut with her hands, eyes shocked. Pornstar Seohyun doesn't care though, it's not like her ass is something new for the world to see. She keeps fucking me with her ass, my 2nd orgasm hit me and cum start leaking out her asshole.

But Seohyun’s ass doesn't stop, and doesn't stop her neverending lust!

The end up into Seohyun's asshole!

[exhaustedpirate]

cinnamon-flavoured kisses

my offering for the 'crash that jeep' fam with a dash of missing scene from 7x03! take a shot everytime i make a coffee metaphor and keep 911 on speed dial (i take no responsibility) also, tommy kinard's coffee order is my coffee order and i will hear no complaints *smooch*

rated T | 6626 words also on AO3

It’s been almost two months but Buck still forgets to set up the coffee machine to brew in the morning.

Firefighter Buckley!

Every night, he goes to bed and every morning, he wakes up without coffee hot and waiting for him. 

It’s nothing major, really, just an extra fifteen minutes he could save.

Buckley!

Tommy used to set it up for him. 

And every night, they went to bed together and every morning, they would wake up to the delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee. 

Buck, come on!

Tommy chose the machine. 

One morning, they woke up to an overpowering smell of coffee in the house. To a kitchen flooded with coffee. 

Please!

Tommy helped him clean up. They grabbed coffee on the way to the appliance’s store as Buck rambled on about this or that machine until he let Tommy choose one.

So it really isn’t his fault that he forgets to set up the coffee machine. It’s on Tommy. He chose it.

Yeah.

“Evan, Evan!”

It’s Tommy’s fault.

“Please, come back to me!”

---

15 Minutes Earlier

His coffee sucked.

He had set it to brew while he took a shower that morning. It was probably the wrong temperature, he must have clicked the wrong button. 

He must have been wrong.

Nope, not the time for that, Buck. That’s what the shower was for - it’s not crying if you’re in the shower. And that was a bad habit on its own, his morning routine was suffering.

But it was coffee and really, he needed all the energy he could get. It wasn’t as if he had been sleeping well for the past couple months. 

He takes another sip at the red light. It really doesn’t help that the coffee sucks.

He’s been adamant at making it work, though, he isn’t about to give up now. There is a metaphor that he is not going to acknowledge. He isn’t.

The sound of sirens approaches the intersection, distracting him. An engine zooms by first, so fast he can barely see the numbers on it. The RA engine drives by just as fast. The vans in front of him are too tall. 

Buck sighs, taking another sip of the coffee. It still sucks. He doesn’t know why he expected it to be any different, he should have learned his lesson. He downs the rest of the coffee.

The light turns green and he follows the vans towards the right. He’s probably gonna get to the station just in time. Bobby will probably have coffee and breakfast for him ready, he’s complained enough about his coffee machine that his Captain has taken pity on him.

The sounds of sirens get louder and louder as he drives. In the approaching distance, he sees the orange glow of the fire. Almost unconsciously, he turns on the radio he still has on his truck, fiddling with the frequency to catch the walkies’ channel.

“-igin is on the first floor, Captain! The second floor has been evacuated.”

“Secure the first floor with Gimenez, Melton!” The Captain’s voice is familiar. The vans in front of him pick up speed on the stretch of road in front of them. “Jones, Nolan, check the basement. Donato, Kinard, feed the hoses.”

The coffee taste in his mouth turns bitter. It feels like a cruel sign from the universe. His coffee sucked and his ex-boyfriend is working a fire a few meters away from him. Bobby better have pancakes, he needs it. 

The traffic slows down. He starts to see the flames.

“Cap, there’s a methane leak in the basement.”

“Evacuate the building! Kinard, help cover the perimeter.”

Buck can see Tommy’s large figure jog across the street, to a familiar figure in blue. He swallows around the lump in his throat. He begs to anyone who’ll hear that he won’t have to drive past him, that he won’t have to pretend to be unaffected by his presence, that he won’t have to see the look of indifference in Tommy’s face. Please.

“Cap,” The panicked and breathless voice of one of the firefighters comes through the radio and Buck holds his breath as the van in front of him slows down almost to a stop. “The gas main line is damaged, it’s-”

There’s an explosion right behind him, the car behind him tipping to the side. It’s followed by an explosion from the building. His world shakes. Before he can move out of the car, straighten himself or even take another breath, an explosion sets off right under the van in front of him.

The large van tips over his jeep just as the ground rumbles. 

“The ground is unstable!” Tommy. His voice is full of static and he almost wants to smile. “We need to evacuate!”

He can’t believe that he has been having terrible coffee for two months.

He hears the cracks on the pavement over the shouts of the firefighters of the 217. No matter where he goes, he knows what’s going to happen. 

He should have fixed his coffee machine months ago instead of waiting for it to magically fix itself. He could have used those extra 15 minutes today.

The ground clatters right under him, he feels that weightless feeling for only a few seconds. His jeep reaches the ground first before everything else joins him. He hears the groaning metal of the van before it tips over him and the world goes dark.

---

The sun has set by the time Buck is following Chimney through Harbor Station’s mostly empty hangar.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Eddie asks as he walks alongside Buck. “Shouldn’t we talk to Hen first?”

“This is the only way,” Chimney says for the millionth time in the past hour. “Besides, I know she’s coming here.”

“You still haven’t told us why, Chim.” Buck points out.

“Howie?”

A large figure in blue walks towards them when he spots them. Chimney beams before winking at Buck and Eddie.

“He is why,” He says before he brings the man in for a back-slapping hug. “Good to see you, man!”

The “why” is a tall, broad man in a dark blue flight suit. He has a wide smile that makes wrinkles appear on the side of his face. The “why” has a cleft. His stomach feels weird.

Maybe he does have food poisoning. 

He didn’t actually have the sushi.

“Let me guess,” The man looks amusedly at Chim as he crosses his very large arms over his very broad chest. Hmm. “You need a favour?”

“You make it sound as if I only come to you for favours,” His brother-in-law holds up his hands with an innocent expression on his face. The man raises an eyebrow looking pointedly at Chim. “Fine, fine, I do need a favour.”

The man rolls his eyes good-naturedly, letting his posture relax, hands on his hips. “You’re lucky I owe you, Howie.” 

Eddie lets out a pointed cough and Buck could kiss his best friend for how it brings the man’s attention to them. He has blue eyes. They are…really blue.

He needs to remember that he didn’t have the sushi.

“Ah, before we get down to business,” Chim turns so he’s between them. “Guys, this is Tommy Kinard, he used to work at the 118 seven years ago.”

“Eddie Diaz,” The brunette man holds out his hand for Tommy to shake, a friendly smile on their faces. “You used to be at the 118?”

“I did, but that was before I decided flying helicopters was a much better fit.”

“That is so cool,” Buck’s voice comes out breathy and awed without his permission and it brings Tommy’s eyes back to his. That damn sushi. Wait. Buck clears his throat and holds out his hand. “Evan Buckley.”

“Nice to meet you, Evan.” 

His hand is warm and calloused. His smile is so damn soft. And his eyes are really blue.

Maybe someone snuck the bad sushi into his stomach on the way here?

“About that favour,” Chim interrupts and Buck almost growls at the loss of Tommy’s hand on his. Damnit. “We really need your help.”

Tommy stands with his arms crossed over his chest, a carefully attentive expression on his face, as Chimney explains what happened and subtly pleads for the pilot’s help. Buck feels Eddie’s eyes on the side of his face and turns to him - reluctantly because who doesn’t want to see those arms stretched over the flight suit? - with a confused frown.

“What?” Buck asks quietly.

“You didn’t-,” Eddie interrupts himself and presses his lips together. Buck feels like he’s been put under a microscope the way his best friend is looking at him. “You good, Buck?”

And his nickname felt like an accusation, like Eddie was poking at something but Buck didn’t get it. His confused frown wrinkled his whole face.

“Wha-”

“Alright, boys,” Tommy’s voice cuts him off with a clap of his large hands. They all turn to him. “Who’s ready to commit a crime?” His grin was wide despite the worry hidden in his face.

Chimney was just delighted as he put up his hand. “I am, I am.”

Eddie laughs as he nods. Buck follows them through the hangar even as he frowns.

“Wait, what are we doing?”

Tommy opens his mouth but Chimney is the one to answer his question. “Tommy here is gonna help us find Cap and Athena.”

Buck’s frown turns into wide eyes as he looks between Chim, Tommy and the sleek helicopter that almost magically appears in front of them - maybe Buck was distracted, maybe it was magic. “You’re flying us?”

Tommy just winks at him, and really there must be a rave going on in his stomach, before opening the door to the helicopter. “Wanna hop in first, Evan?”

And really Buck is too busy grinning widely at Tommy’s offer and making sure he doesn’t fall on his face while getting into the helicopter, to notice Eddie’s suspicious gaze on his back and his muttering of ‘Evan’. But really, there are better things to focus on, like Tommy’s fond look and his deep laugh. Much better things.

And then there was really nothing else to focus on besides not dying on a helicopter in the middle of a hurricane and saving Cap and Athena. But he did get to see Tommy’s smile again, the one that made his face scrunch up in the most adorable way.

And then he was going for his best friend’s ankles like the jealous man he was.

And getting kissed in his kitchen.

Seeing Tommy smile, feeling Tommy’s touches, the way he holds him. 

He did end up figuring out his coffee order. It took him five tries.

The new machine made great coffee. Before it broke.

---

Tommy had had crappy coffee before.

Especially at the fire station. Harbor was great but the coffee machine sucked - he’s been a big advocate for getting a new machine. But the budget doesn’t care about his caffeine intake.

Evan learned his coffee order. It took him five tries. 

He kinda wished it had taken him longer. He loved to see the expectant look on his face, the way he would frown when Tommy would shake his head, the way his eyes would sparkle with determination as he made some sort of mental note. 

He kinda wished he could relive the day he got it right. The way Evan’s eyes widened and his lips stretched into a happy smile, ecstatic, giddy, and the way they high-fived and laughed together. The way Evan moaned and sighed into their kiss as he surely tasted the sweet coffee on Tommy’s mouth. “Great choice, babe”, he had said as he licked his lips.

Now, every coffee sucked. For the past two months, he’s been having coffee at the station, not wanting to risk running into Ev-Buck at their coffee shop. 

They had a coffee shop. The barista knew their names and their orders.

He couldn’t go back there alone.

So, fire station coffee would have to do.

Maybe if he continued to punish himself with crappy coffee, he would feel better.

As he followed his Captain’s orders, he still felt the bitter taste of coffee on his tongue. It did its job, it kept him awake, he hadn’t been sleeping well. 

“Cap,” Nolan’s voice comes through the radio and Tommy welcomes how it brings his thoughts back to the scene. “There’s a methane leak in the basement.”

“Evacuate the building, now!” His Captain turns to him, a finger pointed towards the police officers already on scene. “Kinard, help cover the perimeter.”

With a nod, Tommy jogs towards the closest police cruiser and almost falters at the familiar figure that turns towards him. Athena Grant raises an eyebrow at him, the only crack in her otherwise professional mask. His heart pounds in his chest.

“Firefighter Kinard.”

His heart is ready to jump out of his throat. “Sergeant Grant,” He nods. “There’s a methane leak in the building, we need to start evacuating people.”

She nods and half-turns towards another officer. “Start working on traffic-”

“Cap,” Tommy falters at the panic in Jones’ voice. “The gas main line is damaged, it’s-”

An explosion startles both him and Athena as they watch a car tip over from the off-center explosion. The fallen vehicle is the third in the line, a van at the front and a Jeep between the two cars. There’s something familiar about the Jeep, maybe the color or the model. Another explosion sets off under the van and it causes it to rear up and fall over the Jeep.

The ground rumbles and Tommy jumps into action. 

“The ground is unstable!” He yells at the radio as he rushes to the fallen vehicles, his heart pounding as if it knows something Tommy doesn’t. “We need to evacuate!” 

He hears the cracks and watches as the pavement under the Jeep opens making the car fall down. A hand pulls him away as the cracks reach close to his feet. The van falls over the Jeep and his heart stops. 

Why? He doesn’t know. There’s a desperation in his body, a numbness spreading all over and he wants to claw out of his body.

“The 118 and 133 are already on their way,” His Captain calls out through the radio. “Sound out.”

Tommy stands paralysed, looking at the cars filling up the hole on the ground, as his colleagues call out through the radio. Most of them are okay, a couple of them got injured but everyone is walking.

“Kinard?” He hears the crackle of his radio like he’s underwater. 

“Firefighter Kinard?” Athena calls, pulls on his wrist, tries to catch his eye. “Tommy?”

Tommy frowns, clears his throat, shakes his head. He reaches for his radio. “Kinard here, two vehicles fell into the hole caused by the gas explosion. We need extraction teams.”

“Donato, Melton, get ready with the winch.”

“Tommy?” Athena calls him again.

The sirens have him turning towards the other side of the street, the engines approaching them quickly. The 118 is on scene and his stomach feels weird. He watches as Captain Nash orders everyone around, expecting to see a head of curls rush to comply with orders. 

But he’s not there.

Bobby makes his way to where he and Athena are standing. She is still holding his wrist. His old Captain has a frown on his face that is more than just regular work focus.

Something is wrong. His gut pulls at him.

“Is everything okay, Bobby?” Athena asks and finally lets go of him, his body aches.

Bobby looks at Tommy and he expects anger, disappointment or something equally as painful. But he just nods, maybe more tensely than normal, before he turns to Athena, apprehensively. His eyes keep glancing at Tommy and that desperation starts clawing at his throat again.

“Buck didn’t make it to the station-”

Tommy doesn’t wait to hear the rest before he rushes out towards the scene. He vaguely hears the others call out for caution. The van covers the top of the jeep, the angle causing it to hide the driver from where Tommy stands but he sees the van driver move. 

Time moves slowly as he carefully walks around the hole until he can see the back of the Jeep. He chokes out a laugh as tears blurry his vision at the sight of the bumper sticker he gave him a month before the breakup. “I am a great ally,” Evan had beamed as he immediately stuck the pink, purple and royal blue sticker on his car. “And I have a great boyfriend to prove it.”

Tommy takes a deep breath, pushing down the memory of that smiling kiss so he can focus. Evan needs him to focus. He grabs the radio as he looks back at a confused Bobby and Athena still where he left them. Tommy sees how Bobby realises what he’ll say before he does.

“The van driver is conscious and moving, Firefighter Buckley is stuck in his Jeep below, no visual on him.”

Everyone starts moving. The van driver is being carefully extracted by Hen and Howie while Eddie hooks the winch onto the van to remove it first. Images of what they’ll find when it’s removed flood his mind, that clawing ripping through his throat, a fist clenching his heart, a stomp on his stomach, his feet unstable.

“Eddie,” Bobby calls through the radio as he stands beside Tommy. “Once you’re done with the van, get strapped in, you’re going down to the Jeep.”

“Bobby-”

Eddie interrupts Tommy’s protest. “Will do, Cap.” 

“You’re staying here,” Bobby’s tone brokers no argument as he looks at Tommy. “You’re too close to this.”

“The driver is out,” Howie’s voice comes through the radio. “You can pull the van.”

The sound of the winch echoes all around him as he watches the battered Jeep being revealed from under it. The metal roof has caved in on itself and a hand sticks out from the open window. 

It’s his hand. Drops of blood fall from his fingertips. 

He remembers the day when Tommy cooked his famous lasagna, the only thing he could cook really, and Evan insisted on doing the dishes. He remembers making Evan laugh, the sound filling his chest with that bubbly feeling he had gotten so used to. He remembers the feel of Evan’s body shaking with laughter under his tickling fingers. He remembers the soapy water falling from his fingertips to the floor as Tommy got Evan’s arms around his neck and kissed him against the counter. 

It was a good memory. He wished they were back there. He wishes that the blood would be replaced by soapy water and the sounds of sirens and yelled out orders would be replaced by laughter.

“Get strapped in, Eddie.” Bobby says through the radio. It echoes. Tommy frowns.

Tommy’s hand wraps tightly on his radio. “Firefighter Buckley!”

The sound echoes all around the scene and he hears his voice from inside the Jeep. Evan’s fingers twitch, barely a move, but it’s there.

“He’s alive, Bobby,” Tommy turns towards his former Captain, uncaring for the desperation in his voice. “Did you see that?”

Bobby is frowning, a concerned look on his face as he meets Tommy’s eyes. “Eddie is almost ready,” He must see the way Tommy gets more restless. “Tommy.” He warns.

Tommy clenches and unclenches his toes, wanting to follow orders, he was made to follow orders. “Buckley!” He calls through the radio again, the fingers twitch again.

He hears Eddie curse, hears the harness fall to the ground from fumbling fingers. It’s taking too long.

“Buck,” The name tastes bitter on his tongue, he misses the sweet taste of Evan, of his perfected coffee, of him. “Come on!”

Eddie curses again. Tommy stops moving his toes, his body tenses. Bobby turns towards his clumsy firefighter - sure that it’s nerves and worry that has him failing a task he had to have done a million and one times before. It’s taking too long.

Tommy’s boots thud on the unsteady ground below before calls of his name can start from above. He stumbles from the sudden movement, balancing himself with a hand on the car. 

He begs to whoever hears that the last time he saw Evan wasn’t the last time, that he will see him smile again, that he will hear his voice again, even if it isn’t for him. Even if it isn’t Tommy making him smile, talking to him, he just wants Evan to be okay.

Tommy falters before he takes hold of Evan’s hand, his fingers trembling before he wraps it tightly on his. “Please!” He resists the temptation to kiss the hand in his, sucks in a deep breath instead before he turns towards the inside of the truck.

The breath he was taking gets stuck on his throat. Half of Evan’s face is covered in blood from a gash at his hairline. A vision straight from one of his nightmares. His other arm is bent at a strange angle and there are cuts all over his exposed flesh, a large one running down his bicep. 

“Tommy?” Bobby’s voice crackles on his radio and the one in Evan’s car, the terrified tone in his voice clear and duplicated.

Tommy’s hand trembles when he reaches for Evan’s neck, fingers pressing on his pulse point. A relieved breath almost causes his knees to buckle.

“He’s got a pulse,” He swears he feels the collective relief of the 118. “Uh, several cuts and bruises, head injury and uh, probably dislocated shoulder.”

“I’ll prepare the extraction team, see if you can get him to wake up.”

“Evan,” Tommy lets the desperation take over, reaches inside the car to unbuckle the seatbelt before he cups Evan’s cheek. “Evan!” 

His skin feels sweaty from the heat of the explosions, feels hot. He never thought he would be able to touch Evan again, much less like this. His thumb rubs over his bottom lip, hoping it would cause his mouth to open like it had before, like it always did. It doesn’t now.

Tommy feels a tear running down his cheek. All this time drinking crappy coffee when he could have been having coffee in Evan’s kitchen. In Tommy’s kitchen when they would’ve found a space on his counter for the fancy coffee machine. He could be having cinnamon-flavoured kisses against their kitchen counter if he hadn’t let his fears speak louder than his desires.

“Please,” His voice comes out as barely a whisper and he hears the mechanism for the winch above them. “Come back to me.” 

Eddie’s hand on his shoulder carefully pulls him away from the car, his eyes understanding, frightened, pleading, making Tommy take several steps back. Evan’s fingers on his twitch and just as he can no longer hold his hand, Evan’s eyes flutter open. 

Tommy’s knees buckle and he grabs hold of the car as Eddie forces the door open with the jaws. The sound drowns out Evan’s pained groans, each of them breaking Tommy’s heart bit by bit. The two of them get Evan situated on the board and Tommy has to look away. He feels a different hand on his shoulder. Howie. 

Wordlessly, his old friend helps to pull him out of the hole his ex-boyfriend almost died in. A shout of pain rings loudly in his ears when Hen feels for Evan’s shoulder. 

Evan passes out from the pain, Hen and Howie rushing to the ambulance after that. He feels unmoored, the car doors snapping the ropes holding him to shore. Tommy feels Bobby’s strong hand on his shoulder and he allows him to guide him back to shore.

“Let’s go, kid.”

Everything else after that is a haze of sirens, of a blurry LA through the engine windows. He feels Bobby’s stare from where he’s sitting on the back of the truck, next to a silent Eddie. He shouldn’t be there, he’s not part of the 118 anymore. 

He doesn’t move.

He crosses the glass doors side by side with Bobby and Eddie, following Evan’s stretcher. 

This time there isn’t an enthusiastic kiss greeting him on the other side. This time there isn’t a strong hand on his leading him to an impromptu wedding.

This time there’s hard waiting room chairs, there’s blood on his hands, there’s silence. 

He sits with the rest of the 118. 

He waits to hear if he’ll be having crappy fire station coffee for the rest of his life. Tommy would happily drink all crappy fire station coffee so long as Evan makes it through this. So long as Evan is able to make the cinnamon-flavoured coffee Tommy loves, even if it’s for someone else.

---

He has a concussion, a dislocated shoulder and fractured rib but Evan is awake.

Tommy keeps his eyes on the doctor informing Bobby and the rest of the team. Lets out a breath of relief along with the others, before he lets doubt, unease settle in.

He feels Bobby glance at him with thinned lips, almost pleading but Tommy doesn’t catch his eye. He has no rights, not the way Bobby does.

Eddie follows Bobby and the doctor to Evan’s room.

Tommy doesn’t move, he hasn’t moved since they got there. He can’t.

Hen and Howie glance at him, barely audible whispers between them, he can feel it. 

His hands still have Evan’s blood on them. It’s dried by now, it’s become part of his skin. He wants to keep it there, he wants to never see it again. He stands up abruptly, the whispers quiet and he feels their eyes on him as he walks away. 

Tommy should leave, should go back home, back to the station - he hadn’t talked to his Captain. He shouldn’t be there. Evan had his family with him. Tommy wasn’t family, he was an ex, he was nothing. And yet, standing in front of the automatic glass doors, he couldn’t take that step. 

His eyes struggle to adjust to the harsh lighting of the hospital bathroom as he makes his way to the sink. He doesn’t look up as he turns the tap, sure that his hair is a mess, he feels sweaty and he has seen them enough times to know there are bruises under his eyes from his sleepless nights. He takes a deep breath and places his hands under the warm water.

The water runs red as Tommy cleans all of Evan’s blood from his hands, a slow movement, hypnotising really. All it does is remind him of Evan’s face hidden by a stream of blood, his fingers barely moving dripping blood, the sounds of his pain. 

He’s alive, he reminds himself. In a room, a few feet from where he stands, Evan is awake and around family. And yet, all Tommy can see is blood. Evan was so restless, to see him so still, to see him so quiet, cries of pain where he usually heard laughter.

Evan is alive and yet Tommy tastes the bitter taste in his tongue, tastes the heartbreak he caused, tastes the pain he deserves, not Evan, never Evan.

His hands clench around the sides of the sink and that’s when Tommy feels how unstable his legs are, when he feels the tears falling onto the sink, when he hears the sobs shaking his body.

The sound of rushing water stops and someone removes his hands from their tight grip on the sink before they pull him towards a warm embrace. There’s a hand behind his head and another at his back. Tommy knows the embrace, it isn’t familiar, they’ve never hugged like this before - it doesn’t stop him from unleashing his fear against the man’s neck -, but he knows it.

Bobby doesn’t try to quiet him, simply keeps a tight hold on him, one hand running up and down Tommy’s spine, the other massaging the back of his neck.

“He’s been at the hospital so many times,” Bobby says when Tommy’s sobs quiet down, when his breathing is finally under control. “That I forget you haven’t been through this before.”

“I don’t think I want to again,” Tommy’s voice is rough and he clears his throat as he slowly disengages from the hug. “Seeing him like that, I-I thought he was dead, I-”

“Yeah,” Bobby nods and in his eyes, Tommy sees understanding, sees a person who saw exactly what Tommy did. Who’s probably had to see it a few times before. “But he’s a fighter.”

Tommy nods, wiping his tears. He knew Evan was a fighter, he reminded himself of that as he waited for news in the waiting room. It didn’t stop him from imagining the worst case scenario.

“I thought you left,” Bobby says after a moment, head tilting to catch Tommy’s gaze but he refuses, looking towards the bathroom corner instead. “Hen and Chim said you got up and left.”

“I almost did.”

Bobby nods as if he knows, as if he really knows. “It would’ve been easier if you had.”

“He doesn’t need me here, he doesn’t want me here,” Tommy says and hates how small his voice sounds, hates that he deserves to feel this way, hates that it’s true. “He has all of you and I’m n-”

“He asked about you,” Bobby interrupts him and Tommy inhales sharply. “He said he heard you calling for him, asked where you were.”

Tommy tries to find the lie in Bobby’s eyes. He doesn’t, never thought the man would lie about something like this. Tommy shakes his head, his heart pounding in his chest, refusing the truth, desperately holding onto the lie. “No, no, h-he-”

Bobby’s hand finds the side of his face, forcing Tommy to look at him. He sees the fear reflected in the older man’s face, knows that seeing Evan like that was just as hard for him as it was for Tommy. 

“He’s been asking for you, Tommy,” Bobby repeats, forcing him to believe the words. “You have a decision to make now. You can either go through those glass doors and I’ll tell Buck that he imagined hearing you,” The tone and frown on his former Captain’s face tells him exactly what he thinks about that plan. “Or you go into that room and you explain yourself, you make it right because Buck hasn’t been himself since you two broke up.”

“Neither have I.” Tommy confesses, a barely there whisper. 

“So,” Bobby takes a step back, looks at him with subtle scrutiny. “What’s your choice?”

Tommy could leave. He could go out those doors and out of Evan’s life for good. 

He had done it before, hadn't he? He had left Evan in his loft, a pained expression on his face. He had ignored how each step away from Evan ached and burned him from the inside. He had done it to free Evan, to let him explore the world, to let him find something, someone, better than Tommy. Because Evan was sunshine and, at best, Tommy was a cloudy day.

And yet, as he thought of the last two months, of the pain, the heartache, the sleepless nights, the crappy coffee, he knew. Tommy couldn’t handle another lifetime of what he only had a taste of. He couldn’t handle a lifetime of pain, of heartache, of sleepless nights, of crappy coffee. Not when he finally tasted the sweetness of cinnamon-flavoured coffee, of warm nights with Evan’s weight on top of him, of a chest full of love, of sunshine. 

He loved him. He loves him still. 

And maybe Evan wouldn’t take him back, that would have to be okay. Because, Tommy knew, Evan was one of a kind, he was everything, and he’d rather have him in his life just a little than nothing at all.

---

Tommy hears the beeping of the Holter monitor before he walks through the open door. Evan is sitting up in the hospital bed, bandages covering one side of his forehead almost covering left eye, birthmark hidden. His arm is in a sling and he can see the bulk of bandages wrapped around his torso under the hospital gown. 

Once he notices Tommy’s silent presence, his bright blue eyes land on him and Tommy feels like he can breathe again and like there is no oxygen in the room. What a ridiculous notion.

“I thought I had imagined it,” Evan confesses, his tone unreadable and that was unnatural - he was usually so expressive. “I thought Bobby was about to come in and tell me that I imagined your voice after the face he pulled.”

“Y-You were caught in a gas line explosion,” Tommy clears his voice, hates how professional his voice sounds, impersonal, he never spoke to Evan this way. “I was already at the scene, you got crushed under a van after the ground caved under your car.”

Evan nods, his eyes never leaving Tommy. He feels exposed to the intense gaze of the younger man, he wants to hide, wants him to see it all, see the things Tommy can’t say.

“Eddie told me you were the one to know I was under there.”

Evan knows. Tommy is sure Evan knows exactly what happened, knows what went through his brain during the whole thing but he wants Tommy to say it. It’s almost cruel, it’s actually genius.

“I saw your bumper sticker,” Tommy explains and Evan smiles, that soft smile he would have when Tommy made him breakfast in bed, when Tommy would kiss his birthmark. He can’t kiss his birthmark now. 

“I felt it,” Tommy confesses and Evan stills. He can be brave. “I was at the scene and I saw the Jeep and I-I felt something was wrong. The ground caved in and I felt it,” Tommy takes a deep breath and he really thought he didn’t have any more tears. “When the 118 appeared and you weren’t there, I knew.”

“Eddie said you jumped in without a harness,” Evan admits and Tommy wonders how Bobby would have ever been able to hide Tommy’s presence when Eddie had already made it impossible. “Y-you shouldn’t have done that.”

Tommy takes a few steps towards the bed, standing at the foot of it, right next to Evan’s left foot. “I couldn’t have stopped myself even if I wanted to,” He felt ripped open. He knew that if he wanted to stop the pain, he would have to fight for this, for them. 

“And I didn’t want to. If I could, I would have swapped places with you in the blink of an eye. Bu-Evan,” And god, it felt right to call him that to his face again. Evan seemed to think so too. “I love you.” It was like a weight was lifted from his shoulders, and it could end up badly but he had said it. He had finally said the words that for the last four months of their relationship had been begging and fighting to get out even if it was way too soon then.

The Holter monitor beeps faster at Tommy’s confession and Evan sighs in annoyance. He wants to laugh, wants to tease Evan for not being able to hide the way his heart reacts to his confession but he can’t, it’s too important to rely on the beeps of a machine.

“I have been having shit coffee for the past two months.”

Tommy lets out a startled laugh at Evan’s confession, even as his heart tightens in anxiety. He scratches the back of his neck as he nods. “So have I.”

“Tommy,” Evan calls and he looks up at the man he loves. His eyes are wide and he looks overwhelmed and Tommy is regretting his confession - not what he said, just the timing. “I-I thought I had to be this perfect person to be with you, to be as perfect as you-”

Tommy shakes his head, trying to push away the memory of the conversation they had in the loft. “Evan, I-”

“No, please, let me,” Evan interrupts and Tommy takes a deep steadying breath before he nods. He prepares himself. “I thought I had to be perfect but you never saw me as perfect and I think finding out about Abby made me realise how you aren’t perfect either.”

Tommy crosses his arms, holds himself together.

“But you never actually tried to be perfect for me either,” Evan continues and groans in frustration. “I don’t know if I’m making sense and I really don’t want to say the wrong thing again,” Tommy raises his eyebrow and Evan lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “Tommy, I told you I admired you.”

Tommy mirrors his laugh, remembering how that word felt like a stab to the gut. “Yeah, that was…yeah.”

“When what I should have told you was that I can see a future with you,” Evan explains and Tommy turns sharply to him, to his soft smile and bright eyes. “That your happiness is just as important to me as mine, that your concerns are my concerns, that I think about you when you’re not around.”

Tommy’s vision blurs and he blinks his eyes to clear them. “Evan-”

“Josh asked me if I loved you the day we…talked,” Evan continues and his hand twitches. 

Tommy can still remember the blood dripping from his fingertips and holds his hand to try and stop those visions. Evan smiles and grips his hand back and that brings back memories of their hands clasped together as they walked, as they slept, as they relaxed. It slowly extinguishes the bad memories.

“He did?”

Evan nods and his thumb rubs over Tommy’s knuckles. God, it feels good.

“I freaked out when he asked,” He lets out that guilty laugh again and Tommy frowns. “And I just realised that all the things he asked me instead just spelled out how down bad I was for you,” Their eyes meet and Tommy takes in the soft, happy smile on Evan’s face. “How in love with you I am.”

Tommy tries to keep his trembling to a minimum as his free hand cups Evan’s cheek. He rubs his thumb slowly, a barely-there movement, on his cheek and it catches on Evan’s bottom lip. His lips part and Tommy’s hold on Evan’s face tightens. He forces himself to take a deep breath, to hold back.

“Evan, I don’t need you to be perfect, I just need you to be you, that’s who I fell for,” Tommy says and watches as Evan’s eyes shine with unshed tears, he nods.

“I never wanted you to be perfect, Tommy, I just wanted the man who made fake mouth static at the fire chief,” Evan grins and Tommy lets out a watery laugh. “The man who watched me maim my best friend and still decided to kiss me, the man who made me happier than I’ve been in a long time.” 

Tommy was done holding back, he would break apart if he held back another minute longer. He steps closer to the bed and watches as Evan’s eyes spark as he tips his head up, expecting the kiss and Tommy grins.

“I love you so much.” Tommy whispers, face inches from Evan’s.

They still have a lot to talk about. A past to share, expectations, desires, boundaries, all of that. And they will. They will talk and come out stronger than ever. They will talk over perfect coffee and share cinnamon-flavoured kisses when they’re done. 

They will never have crappy coffee again.

“I love you too.” Evan whispers back.

And maybe cinnamon-flavoured aren’t as sweet as love-declaration kisses but who says they can’t have both?

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 100

One hundred fuckin’ days. God. Actually happened. 

I spent 3/4ths of the year drawing more Junkan art than I think anyone else on the internet ever has. Which might be presumptuous of me, maybe i’m just looking in the wrong places y’know? I’m a solid second place bare minimum.

And like, that’s still pretty funny right? This whole event is something I’m gonna cherish forever, the memories, the art itself, the friends I made because of it. But like, c’mon. I drew 100 fucking pieces, learned new skills like digital painting, animation, all that shit, for a ship that I used to hate, and a ship that for the longest time I thought was gonna get me fuckin banished to the deepest depths of the internet just for drawing a poor sketch of them kissing. This ship has become more deeply entwined into who I am as a person that it’s passed up Tokomaru, the ship that literally made me realize I’m a woman.

It’s gotta be at least a little funny, right?

Ah but enough of that, I can talk more on that subject a bit later. For now I reckon I should focus on our art piece for today! Wouldn’t you agree?

Yeah it’s the Wedding. I’d say even before Day 60 I decided the final pic of the Project would be The Wedding, even before I decided to draw a comic of the proposal. Because like, c’mon, it’s basic but how the fuck else was I supposed to end of the project? With something that ISN’T a wedding????

And very shocking to hear after this entire project has gone by, but I did in fact scale back this pic massively. You wanna know what the original idea was?? 22 images, each one depicting different parts of the wedding and afterparty, including the kiss at the end. And the kiss at the end? I was gonna feature every character from the 3 main classes + Ruruka, Seiko, and Yasuke. Fucking why??? Because Excess is all I know people ITS ALL I KNOW.

However I had decided that I wanted this project finished and ready before October, because I wanted to do the Vampire Fic to coincide with Day 30. And again, say it with me here, “Jem was severely burnt out on the project!” 

So it went from 22 images, to “However many I can get done in time + the big group shot” and then that became “Just the big group shot,” and then finally, i cracked and just drew The Kiss. 

Speaking of which before I divulge some more info about the original plan, i’ll get all the fun things about the actual art I did go through with.

As you can tell I shaded this differently from anything in the project. I normally have two different ways of shading art, I don’t think these are the proper words but I call them Soft Shading and Hard Shading. If you need immediate examples, Day 95 was Soft Shaded, and Day 94 was Hard Shaded. Generally speaking I prefer to do Hard Shading, as I think it works better with the rest of my style, and also just looks better in general. Soft Shading is what I do for pics with like, a very specific tone and energy to them that I can’t really put to words. It’s also significantly easier to do compared to Hard Shading. 

A few months back for a commission of Kaede and Marceline from Adventure Time hanging out (yes this is relevant) I was trying to capture a very specific aesthetic that I’m obsessed with called Frutiger Aero. This mostly was in the background, however when lighting the pic I needed a very specific aesthetic that I didn’t know how to capture with just one of my shading styles. So . . . I fuckin did both. And in my opinion (which is crazy because this requires I compliment myself) it looked fuckin great. That said it was significantly harder.

I think I’ve done it only one other time after this, but I don’t remember what the pic was if it exists at all. But obviously as you can see, I decided that to really commemorate the occasion I’d go all out and do both shading styles again. It was very worth it, but fun fact! Doing this style on Roses is a fucking pain in the ass and if I ever have to do it again I will fucking SCREAM!

Anyway, the pic was definitely a lot harder to work on because of that stylistic choice, but the end result makes up for it by a massive margin. 

Hope ya’ll like the dresses because they were the hardest part of this! Fun fact, Val (She’s back!) did a chapter for her legendary Year of Love and Despair fic where the gals are in wedding dresses. And the designs she came up with are amazing! I still really wanna draw em when I get a chance! However! I woulda felt bad if I just yoinked em for this, so I had to do everything in my power to come up with completely different designs. And given that I am a perfectionist, that was significantly more difficult than it probably shoulda been. But I did it! I really like how Mikan’s dress turned out specifically, I thought giving her a fit that covered up more skin than a normal wedding dress would be fitting for her. Also I really like drawing Mikan’s hair in a bun, I never had a chance to say that so I’mma say that now. 

Wow fuck I just realized there’s probably a lot of random details or thought processes I have on this ship that I just never got an opportunity to talk about, either because I had a different topic to cover on previous posts, or I just forgot, or I just didn’t have a good segway! Crazy right? 

Also yes! Shading Junko’s hair was heavenly~

Okay i’ve run out of words on the art. Time to tell you about everything I cut! Now I’m sad to say but no, I didn’t actually cut 22 planned images. I never got far enough to actually figure out each individual pic. Only a small handful, which I almost speedily sketched out for this post, but I don’t have it in me, especially on my current schedule. So i’ll just do my best to describe what I had in mind!

First piece would have been Mukuro being on Security for the Wedding, because of course. She would have also enlisted the help of Mondo and his entire gang, because that combination in this context sounds funny. Don’t worry though they were well behaved.

Ruruka was gonna handle the Wedding Cake, with Teruteru on the rest of the food. Either Ruruka or Mukuro would have been giving him a death glare during the process of course.

Behind the scenes Mikan would be getting prepped for the Wedding. And by prepped I mean Seiko, Ibuki, and Sayaka would be trying very hard to keep Mikan from crying as a result of how happy and overwhelmed she is (Ruining her makeup). Seiko trying to blow air into her eyes to keep them dry while Sayaka and Ibuki desperately try to find an outlet to plug in a hairdryer in because that would be significantly more efficient.

On the reverse, Junko would be doing all of the work on prepping herself for the wedding, with Ruruka, Yasuke and Tsumugi standing in the background, questioning why they’re even there. Junko would yell at them that they’re morale support in this instance. 

Warriors of Hope would of course be there being scamps of course, Kotoko would be the Flower Girl because I play favorites. Toko and Komaru would probably be there trying to keep them in line.

I didn’t have anything in mind with the afterparty but I more than likely would have drawn the drunkest Junko I possibly could. Maybe even Mikan too!

For the Bouquet Throwing I was gonna have Syo jumping at it like a feral animal, and thinking about it now I’d probably also have Tenko jumping for it with killing intent in her eyes.  

And I think that’s it for ideas I had prior to cutting them. Which means it’s time for me to get sappy about the fact that the project is finally ending! Fuck! Usually when I write these I try to have a decent idea ahead of time of what I’m gonna fucking say, this time however I’m just gonna talk, and i’m gonna keep talking until I’m either struck down by nature or I run out of things to say. Sorry! 

This is going to get silly, sappy, and maybe even a little venty, jump in at your own risk. 

If you told me at the beginning of 2024 that I was going to draw 100 days worth of Junkan related art, including a gif and a music video, 2 comics, and also get back into writing to make gay fanfic, I’d be so god damn confused. Because what the fuck right? And that’s not even counting everything I drew AFTER I fuckin finished! Like hold on a minute i’m gonna count up how many times i’ve drawn these two, including the individual comic pages from the three i’ve made.

204.

Fucking, I. I didn’t even know we passed 200 by this point. 

And that’s not counting the sketches I’ve drawn on paper in my sketchbook. It’s also not counting unfinished pics. It ain’t counting the art I might draw WHILE writing this! It’s not counting the stuff I probably forgot about while searching my files cause I suck at naming the aforementioned files!

AND I’M STILL NOT BURNED OUT EITHER?

I got burned out on the project sure but the moment I had the freedom to do whatever I wanted I fucking IMMEDIATELY drew a Junkan pic for Halloween. And then I kept going, and then I didn’t fucking stop, and I don’t think I CAN stop! I don’t even WANT to stop but you’d think by now I’d be like “Well I don’t have any ideas right now-” NO I HAVE TOO FUCKING MANY IDEAS! I KEEP FUCKING THINKING OF MORE IDEAS, AND THEN I COME UP WITH AN AU AND THAT COULD HAVE LIKE 10,000 MORE IDEAS. JUNKAN IS A MENTAL HYDRA YOU DRAW ONE PIC 2 MORE POP UP IN ITS PLACE!

I can draw these pieces in like a few hours if not shorter, because I don’t have to fucking sketch them properly anymore. I feel like I shouldn’t be able to do that! This ship has done unspeakable things to both my mind and body! And i’ve said it before but i’m not trying to complain here, as you’ll see when I start talking about this ship like it saved me from falling into the grand canyon. But it’s just, so, absurd???

Danganronpa is only like my third favorite piece of media behind Bo-bobo and Fairy Tail and yet I’ve drawn more art of JUST THIS SHIP than I have of just general art of those series! That’s not even counting all the other ship art I’ve done! Like Tokomaru! Remember Tokomaru? The ship that is responsible for me being a woman and being able to find the happiness of being my true self? I think i’ve drawn that and Syomaru a combined like, 20 times across my entire life as a DR fan. ALL OF THIS JUNKAN ART SAY FOR LIKE, 5 OF THEM WERE IN ONE YEAR. 

And bare minimum for 2025, assuming I don’t make ANYTHING ELSE OF THEM (Which I will. You know I will.) I’m gonna draw 21 pics for Junkan Week, because you know I’m gonna just draw EVERY prompt from all three lists. And then 30 more for the Month of Junkan (Will try to have that prompt list up soon btw!). So that’s 51 I’m going to do. That’s over half of what I realistically was supposed to do bare minimum for this project. That’s so fucking much, and I’m gonna do it, because I love this ship, and also it sounds REALLY funny if I did that. 

I think genuinely the only other ships I could fucking do this for are like, Toko/Syomaru or Flarelu. Maybe Togachako if I did a reread of MHA to get me back in the spirit for that series. And even then i’m not sure I physically have it in me to go that distance even for those ships. I certainly want to draw a lot of them, especially Flarelu because that’s a ship so rare that it makes Soft Junkan (before I fucking flooded the tag on tumblr) look like a bustling city.

Speaking of tags, I still think about sometimes how like, the Junkan Tag maybe got like, a post like, a few times every month. The normal amount for a ship of this general Rarity. And now it’s like, for so many pages, just half of it is me. Because I was asked to bring something to eat to the function for the buffet table and I fucking crashed a Food Truck through the wall. I feel bad about it sometimes, sometimes. I’m imagining the scenario in my head where someone who likes Junkan but didn’t check the tag super often because it wasn’t like, a super commonly updated one, and then pressing it for the first time in a year and being like “What the fuck happened here?” You know what still shocks me? Not once have I gotten hate for any of this. I was so fucking scared for like half of this projects creation that I was going to get bombarded with people angry at me for shipping this, and NOTHING. I’m not complaining I’m just confused. I have to at least have had a few people block me right? It’s just so eerily quiet. And it’d be one thing if it’s just a thing of like “Why would people who hate Junkan check the Junkan tag” because yeah, that makes sense. But also I’ve been putting at least one Junkan pic in both characters tags every day for 3 fucking months, there had to be at least one Mikan super fan who is eternally fed up with my antics. Like, awesome that I didn’t get harassed over a ship, that actually gives me a little hope that nature is healing, just. Crazy right???

So like. Fuck.

I guess I’ll get to the sappy shit now?? I think I ran out of things to be confused about in terms of what I did this year because of this ship. So I guess I’ll just start talking about how much it means to me, both the ship, and this project. 

(trigger warning, mentions of abuse, nothing super graphic in my opinion but could be mildly uncomfortable. Either skim ahead or stop here)

2024 kinda, fuckin sucked for me to be honest?? I have like 2 good things I can speak for it in terms of major positive points (Obviously I had other good experiences but if I just said “Oh I read a I Love Amy and it was one of the greatest things ever” it lacks the same impact). Not counting getting this project to like, work, obviously.

I finished the 5 chapters of my webcomic that I wanted prepped so I could actually make a website and start posting (ignore how I didn’t make the fuckin website yet). And I started dating my darling Yves and Rivette. Who I cherish deeply. I made other friends this year, a lot of them in part cause of this ship. And I went through a lot of emotional change. 

But to get that change it required I unpack a lot. And by a lot, I mean one bag that was filled to the brim. Gonna try real hard not to like, talk about this in excessive detail or turn this post into some woe is me bullshit, but I feel like I should at least make mention of it.

At the beginning of the year, I asked Yves (who I wasn’t dating yet) about my previous romantic relationship. And she confirmed to me that, based on everything I had told her about it overtime, that yes, it was abusive.

During 2021-2022 I was in a relationship with a girl I won’t name here, you wouldn’t know her of course, it was a completely different community. It started out as friends, I got a crush, jumped at it because I was still inexperienced with feelings, and it didn’t work out. And that’s the simple way of putting it, and that’s how I viewed it till Yves opened my eyes.

From the getgo it wasn’t healthy. She was manipulative, constantly had outbursts towards me, and yanked me around emotionally constantly. I would later find out that she had a previous history of just, generally being an awful person. Even after we broke up we still stuck around each other, mostly because I felt guilty for breaking up with her, and was also just generally terrified of her. The abuse was all mental of course, it was long distance so she couldn’t hurt me physically at all. 

I of course, didn’t process any of that as me being abused, I even viewed myself as being at fault for a lot of it. The experience was so bad that I identified as Aromantic because just convinced I wasn’t able to feel proper romantic feelings for someone. It wasn’t till much later when I got another crush that I realized that I’m Panromantic, and me being Aro (and very briefly Aegoromantic) was basically just a coping mechanism to write off my trauma. I still feel guilty about that since it feels like I devalued the importance of people who do identify on the Aro spectrum, but that isn’t relevant here.

Point is, a lot of bad shit happened to me because of that woman, and even after a year and a half of us not talking because we both mutually decided it would be better for us to not stay in contact, she still found ways to worm her way back into my life. One conversation we had just by chance, to catch up, that’s all it took and I was thinking of her again. I never talked to her after that, and I have her blocked now, but I didn’t need to for shit to hit the fan.

So I asked Yves that question, she answered, and I now suddenly had to deal with the fact that I was abused, and that I was traumatized as a result. And like, I never really viewed myself as a traumatized person up till that point, I viewed myself as someone who wasn’t very smart but tried her best to do good by people who didn’t have too much baggage beyond some sucky school memories.

When I had to unpack what happened that kind of spiraled into severe Self Confidence Issues and even more Self Hate. I struggled to accept even the slightest compliment if it wasn’t directed at my art. The reason I even quit weed is because I used it almost exclusively to suppress all of the negative emotions I felt. 

I’m in a somewhat better place now, I’m trying to give myself more breaks from artwork, rather than overworking myself constantly just to feel something (and being fully open, I realized near the end of december that I pretty much used Overworking as a form of self harm). I’m gonna really try this year to like, actually let people be nice to me, and in turn try to be nicer to myself. And I have goals to work towards for this year. But I wouldn’t have gotten to this point without two things. One, my girlfriend Yves, who even before we started dating helped me through multiple breakdowns and has helped/allowed me to grow into a (I hope) better, healthier person. And even after I got over most of my feelings related to my Ex, has continued to help me cope with my self hatred. I cherish every moment we share and wouldn’t trade her for anything.

And the other thing, which I know will sound silly right after I talked about my girlfriend, is well. Junkan.

Let me say this, I didn’t get into Junkan to cope with my abuse. I have toyed with the notion in my head before and the idea of it pisses me off to a quite frankly irrational degree. I was into Junkan before I realized my issues. If you want my coping mechanism it’s Alex from Minecraft and no I’m not explaining that right now.

That said, it, like all the yuri ships I like, was a source of comfort for me. Originally I read stuff like Tokomaru fics just to help me reduce stress, back when I dealt with really severe anger issues due to the online spaces I occupied. And to this day reading a nice, fluff fic can calm me down a bit. But now they can serve a much deeper sense of comfort, away from all the bullshit, and obviously, gave me a way to distract/calm myself from the storm of negative emotions and memories that filled the brain.

I see myself in Mikan more than I’d like to personally admit, obviously not to the extreme, but in aspects. So it’s just, nice to see a better timeline for her with Junko, ones where she gets to be happy and maybe even heal as well. It just so happens that I also think there’s a lot of genuinely good potential for the ship from either a canon or non-canon perspective, and Junko’s just a really enjoyable character. 

Working on this project helped too. It gave me a way to dive deeper into my love for this ship, and gave me a sense of purpose and validation that helped me work through the rough. Whether it was the really bad mental health days, or just a shit streak of commission work that tore away at me because my job even if I love drawing can be a real drag at times, and i’m unfortunately a workaholic (Trying to work on it though).

I think i’ve said it before but even something simple as Val showing her excitement over the art pieces I was prepping could genuinely brighten my day even while I was at my lowest.

And then when I really started pursuing this as a project, rather than just a secret stash to satiate myself and one other person minimum, I realized I could do something good here. For the people like me who loved this ship but might have been too nervous about expressing it, the people who were just really craving it, and the people who had already made all of the fics and art that sent me into this spiral of obsessive passion in the first place! A gift to all of them, to make ya’ll happy. 

In hindsight, may not like, the healthiest mindset for setting off this whole project. But hey it all kinda circled around into eventually helping my mental health recover. So like, win?

And i’ve already spoken on how Day 60 allowed me to feel a lot more emotionally free as an artist even if I still have my struggle days. I’ve gotten better just in general as an artist as I improve more at stuff like expressions, posing, linework, etc. And I’ve even managed to make friends with some of the people I used to look up to as idols and can finally just view em as normal people now. (Even if I might still be a bit excessive in my praise, I swear I’m normal about ya’ll besties I just don’t have like, a middleground for showing my appreciation and affection for my friends. It’s maxed out unless I’m tired as shit) 

I find myself comedically terrified of how this ship has affected me over the course of 2024, and how it will likely continue to affect me through 2025 even as I try to move onto other projects not related to Junkan. I wanna show off my love for Fairy Tail on my main blog, and I really think that with a full years time and the first five chapters done I really can get my comic off the ground and focus on that for the foreseeable future.

But hey, 2025 at least we got two whole Junkan Events. And with Junkan Week I’d like to keep that going for as long as I can, unless someone else takes the reins way down the line. So this ol’ blog’ll keep going for a good while I imagine, even if it’s a lot smaller. Maybe I’ll find other ways to keep this place active, I’ve considered just making it a one stop shop for all things Junkan though I don’t think I’m really suited to manage that. Maybe someone’ll read this and try there hand at it down the line, maybe someone’ll do their own 100 Days of Junkan! 

Oh hey did I ever tell ya’ll I was gonna make a comedic video just making a guideline for how one could make their own 100 Days Project. It was gonna be like, pretty obvious points just framed in a very exaggerated and comedic tone. 

Alright anything else I should cover? Fun facts? Deep personal anecdotes? Sappy stuff?

Lemme check my files, maybe i got another dumb joke image- 

. . . 

Oh . . . Well there’s somethin.

Alright, don’t get to excited ya’ll, but just for a bit of fun, how about one last day in the project. I know 101 days doesn’t roll of the tongue as well, but I think this is vaguely interesting enough to make up for that! Tune in tomorrow. Same time, same place. 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[zkylearnstherope]

Victim [An Analysis] Finale + Theories

Part 1 - Part 2 - [Part 3]

Alright, here's the finale. There are some stuff I forgot to mention in the first two parts, and some corrections too. A few analysis from Wanted, and I am also including theories at the end as well.

Thank you for @d8tl55c for pointing it out.

That map was of Newgrounds, not the Outernet, which was I initially thought. There are two more texts at the bottom of it, and one was also highlighted in yellow, but it's two blurry to read.

The sticks around vic knows where the PCs are. But this doesn't explain how Purple has his own human. Purple can move from the Mac, to Minecraft, to the Outernet. And King was also able to buy a Minecraft item too. Is the Outernet more easily accessible that we initially thought?

Another thing I want to point out is that I don't think The Salad cares much about the Outernet. They have never expressed interest in finding out where King lives, nor did they explore the area after Showdown. Finding the city in The Box didn't even surprise them a bit, nor seeing more sticks like them. They know it's there, but they just don't care about it that much.

So, even if Second finds out about what Dark and Chosen did, I don't think he would align himself with vic, to be honest. He'll just go back to ALANSPC.

The building in Wanted exploded because Chosen hit the glitch bullet with a fireblast. Yes, he also has fireblast. Although, I will admit, it does look different than the fireblasts in Victim. It could be an animation thing, since they made the episodes a year apart. Or it could also mean that it was only Dark who was doing the destruction. But I don't care. I still hate Chosen for letting it all go down.

Also, this scene was definitely referencing Mitsi. Another one almost got hit by a rubble because of him.

And here's a summary of why vic is NOT an evil boss. Read the Part 2 for a more elaborate info.

The workers did not resign. The majority of the workforce disappeared because of the event. The string is connected to FRAME article of Where did they go?

Only one of them gave a (bad) interview. And it was at the same time the rumors started going around that he was in debt because the shareholders started selling shares. It was 3 articles in total written by a rival company to deface him.

Why do I think there's a rival company? Because of the incident report of someone getting caught stealing the UI Tools. Agent was able to subdue the suspect, and they filed a police report on it.

Yes, the Rocket Co. company "is not the same". That's because the original people were not there anymore. THEY DIED.

The previous articles say that vic hasn't made a public appearance, even after he became the new CEO.

He wasn't mistreating his workers. He's just not there.

And assuming they used to party all the time with Mitsi, those times should've stopped as well.

The article just exaggerated all the events at the company, and probably what that worker said in the interview as well. Typical newspaper stuff.

Everybody desperately want to make vic the evil cold boss, and people always forget that he and The Mercs have NEVER KILLED anyone.

What he has done so far was beat a god-level terrorist with ominous music playing in the background, and people were like- yeah that has to be the super bad guy ever. Everybody knows that nerd CEOs of tech companies are evil, yeah.

Despite seeing Victim where vic is the one who grants powers to people, people still think he would "take Second's power for himself".

A truly truly misunderstood character. Not only misunderstood, but there's barely anyone who cares enough to listen.

Second and Yellow's Capture.

Rocket Co. has two goals: Capturing Chosen and figure out how a cursor ended up in the Outernet.

The UI Tools were very rare. And because they were hunting down a cursor, they needed to know where Second got the pencil. Sticks are afraid of the Animators, they don't want the idea of them just casually showing up to the Outernet. Second was captured because of his potential connection to an Animator. And so did Yellow.

They are not aware about the hole in the Sky Tile, so there's no way they'll figure out how Yellow managed to summon a cursor, without capturing him too.

Although, it was actually Dark's tech that did the summoning, so I am not sure if Yellow would even be able to replicate it.

Agent overbeating RGB.

I see all of it as precaution. Chosen and Dark has already managed to wipe out Newgrounds. And now an Orange hollow managed to laser beam one of those terrorists.

It's only logical for them to assume that everyone that is potentially connected to The Chosen One would be powerful as well.

That's how I would respond too. I wouldn't trust people connected to terrorists, not even children. I would take try to take them down quickly before they could even harm the civilians around me. Agent was protecting the drivers, his family. No way he's letting them be in danger again.

(Also, I never agreed with them being children, but it's not related right now.)

I don't know why they stopped scanning Chosen. I honestly think it's a writer's plot hole, but an in-universe explanation would be that they needed to get everyone away from Second as possible. He could potentially get out at any time.

Why did it take too long for Agent to Pause Second and Chosen in Wanted? Were the Mercs playing with them all that time?

I don't see Wanted as the Mercs having fun.

I was more distracted by the fact that Second decided to use animals as meat shields. He can draw Rockets but not sure why he drew animals. A very odd choice for someone to immediately want living things to protect him. But that's not important right now.

It seems to me that the fight was being observed by cameras, and Agent has comms on. They were being ordered to push Second to use the Pencil to the extent of his abilities.

Since this was the first time they've seen a stick create life, and it was an Observation Sequence. NOT playing around.

Since I was right about vic having a tall wife, and that Agent is some sort of a sadist policeman, here are more theories I have.

The people around vic, especially his wife, knows that there Evil Animators out there, I want it to be true, that Mitsi was the one behind the Freedom website. She drew Black victim because they know how Noogai3 kept reviving the same black hollow over and over again. It was initially meant to save future versions of victim, but it ended up freeing Chosen and now Dark was created too.

The idea that they wanted to help enslaved sticks but ended up releasing the Terrorists of Newgrounds is so good of a backstory.

It was Chosen who saved Agent Oreo.

As much as I hate Chosen, I can't deny that this is his portal.

As to why he decided to save people, I have no idea.

The next Corn Dog Guy appearance will be his POV in Newgrounds. Then, we'll get to see what Chosen is actually doing there.

[small text] SKY Journal Astronomical breakthrough Highlights from SKY conference about(?) discovery of Sky Tiles How do Sky Tiles affect our understanding of weather? Microscopic examinations of Green Life Particles advance medical technology. [small text]

The Outernet sticks are aware of the benefits of the Green Particles. Now, I wonder if vic is now seeing Second as his way to save everyone? But too much time has passed, I don't know if Mitsi is still recoverable.

Right now, vic is trying to find out how an Animator managed to come to the Outernet. I personally think that the next episode would be more flashbacks but from Chosen's POV. Gotta get that angst meter high up.

I'm sure I had more theories, but I got so distracted today, that I forgot some of them.

Anyway, thank you for reading.

[sschizoid]

Wait let me cook

how about the tulpar crew on the beach together. omg.

oh you're cookin' alright (⌐■◡■) 👌

--

curly

while its no secret that he prefers winter over summer, he can't deny the feeling of absolute bliss he gets from feeling water on his skin and sand between his toes. he'll spend a good amount of time in the water, but tries not to get his hair wet. it dries out his curls and just kind of leaves him a frizzy mess

after swimming, he likes to lie down and let the sun work its magic by drying him off the good old-fashioned way. once settled in and comfortable, he's definitely gonna lie back and give a dreamy sigh before tilting his sunglasses down and looking over, saying "you know what? I really needed this."

applies sunscreen everywhere but the back of his neck. you'll never guess where he gets sunburned

jimmy

he hates the sun, it's way too bright and sunglasses do almost nothing for his headaches. he hates the heat, being sweaty feels gross and makes him chafe. he hates sand, its scratchy and rough and always finding its way into his clothes. but he goes anyway because he doesn't want to be left out and has fomo

tans super easily. he can be under an umbrella the entire time and still manage to gain more color than someone like curly, who will be actively trying to tan yet barely succeed in gaining a rosy hue

despite his attitude toward the beach, he can usually be persuaded to play a bit of frisbee if bothered hard enough. with him, persistence is key. but don't even bother trying to get him in the water

anya

spends the first hour or so beachcombing, looking for interesting shells, sand dollars or sea glass. she ends up finding a really cool piece of coral skeleton as well as some sea urchin fragments, which she plans on adding to her little home collection of oddities

not too big into swimming, but absolutely loves to sunbathe! you can find her in the back, lounging with a floppy hat and a pair of massive sunglasses with her own personal radio playing her favorite tunes

she'll bring a book with her, but will fall asleep with its pages spread open over her face and her arms at her sides, out like a light. at least she's better protected from UV rays?

swansea

absolute grillmaster. tell him what your favorite protein is, how you want it prepared, and he'll have it ready for you in less than 10 minutes and cooked to perfection. also, charcoal is the superior way of grilling. don't even try to argue with him, because he will die on this hill

he has a soft spot for the beach, as he always used to take his dog to them, either for a walk or a good old game of fetch. he remembers how much of a pain in the ass it was trying to brush sand out of that long fur, but it was worth it to see that wagging tail

consistently applies sunscreen every two hours, yet still somehow manages to get sunburned?? he blames his ancestry

daisuke

is trying so hard to convince someone to bury him in the sand. he needs to know what it feels like. wants to feel the pressure around his ribs and the granules in his teeth. he heard that pirates used to torture prisoners by burying them neck-deep, but he's "built different" and thinks it would feel calming like a weighted blanket

besides baseball, surfing is one of his favorite sports. that isn't to say he's particularly good at it, but he loves the adrenaline rush of trying to navigate a wave while keeping your body balanced and mind focused

one of his first jobs was volunteering at an ice cream shack on the boardwalk when he was 15, so he views the beach and frozen treats as synonymous and pretty much the perfect pair. his go-to is dippin' dots, by the way. specifically the banana split flavor

[askhezureviews]

no spoilers/specifics but when you get to Ghostfuckers it becomes so obvious Brandon is doing the writing again

it's the closest helluva has gotten to its season 1 self in all of s2, and it's still not fantastic, if I'm being honest

there's only so much he can do to right the ship

ep11&12 ping right back into Goetia melodrama, because of course

OKKKKkkkk finally sat down and watched this episode!

Hey! Look, it's like, their first actual job in forever!!! They're actually going to the human world again, great!

I'm very relieved Brandon was brought in to rewrite this. I know some Viv fans were upset about the leaks, but I think it was actually a good thing these leaked and sparked enough outrage for Viv to cave in and change it because Millie unaliving herself for being a bad wife is completely inappropriate. I'd personally feel ashamed and embarrassed if I had wrote that. She claimed they had plans for Millie, that she will get her episode in season 2, but she didn't. Even with Brandon's assistance here, she really didn't. I'd say those leaks are proof she lied to her audience, however... at this point, Vivziepop is merely not self aware of her writing and doesn't comprehend the stereotyping she does to her own characters and their stories. So I don't think she lied, she's unable to comprehend that she isn't delivering on what she claims she will.

The episode establishes: -Blitz's business is now bankrupt. He has not paid his employees in over a month. -Wally Wackford knows IMP and hangs out with them?? / wants to hang out with them?? -Ghosts aren't real in Helluva / Hazbin universe -There's infestor demons that eat off angst I guess? First time we're ever seeing one

Seems like a good portion of this episode is a scooby doo reference. The montage scene was unnecessary, you could have cut it for time / budget.

~~~

Regarding Millie: She claims the most screen time, but this episode actually isn't about her. The main focus is on Blitz. It's Blitz's trauma, Blitz's pain, Blitz's melodrama, and she just happens to be on screen dealing with it. We get a small pinch of something, but I'll talk about it after this analysis:

Millie asks Loona to take care of Moxie for her. These two still haven't passed the bechdel test yet. The only thing I recall them talking about outside of the men in their life is when Loona takes a jab at Millie's age in season 1, which also isn't ideal.

Millie claims she "always has fun with Blitz" and that he is her "best friend" which is news to the audience. This is the first time they've ever hung out in an episode. "I've never had a real friend that I didn't wanna f*ck." But you DO want to f*ck her. Earlier in the episode, he had Millie punch a card he's used frequently. Unwavering loyalty in exchange for leaving Moxie and Millie alone on 1 date. In a single episode he seems to have changed his mind quite suddenly and I'm unsure why.

Millie's backstory is chalked up to "She left the farm to become a hitman in Wrath. The market for assassin's is actually inflated in Wrath, it's high competition, so she was in between jobs. Blitz finds her after she stole their kill, and offers to pay her double. She accepts (Even though he went back on this, he does not pay her double. In fact, she barely gets enough to survive between both her and Moxie.)" She's hired by IMP to do various assassin jobs, and then Blitz decides to move to a different ring and use humans as their new clientele. This is an extremely smart move for his business, because there's quite literally zero competition for this. Millie for some reason thinks she "won't fit in"(??? you don't need to?) because imps are only good for their muscle" This doesn't make sense for Millie to say here. If anything she should have been more insecure staying in Wrath BECAUSE she would be actively compared to the higher competition of her birthplace. Here, they've hit a gold mine.

"Blitz, you made me realize I could be anything! Not just a simple farm girl or underpaid goon." But you are. Millie IS a simple farm girl and underpaid goon. Assassins are extremely common jobs for imps in wrath. She has not subverted people's expectations nor does she have a unique job to that of an imp.

"My mom said sweat, blood, and hard work washes the tears right off!" - Okay now THIS is the first piece of Millie development we have received in perhaps ever!! This implies that Millie's mother/family were emotionally unavailable to her as a child. That whenever she was upset/miserable, she was taught to bury her sadness with work. Which indicates she's a workaholic who probably needs therapy / has trouble expressing emotions properly. This would be a direct cause/effect action that shaped her into who she is today. This is an actual real Millie moment, and it comes from a passing comment. I don't think the writers caught on to what they did here, but THIS is good Millie development! THIS is a genuine character trait that is all hers!

~~~

Some stuff that did get a genuine chuckle out of me:

"I should have been a theater critic, I have objectively correct opinions!"- Moxie , It's also nice to see Moxie attempting to be the brains of the operation again, trying to solve their financial crisis, even if there's no way to save it.

"Your husband is still a little fuckable." - That actually made me laugh too despite the context being a little confused

Anyhow, overall the episode felt like it could have been 15 min long. They should have shortened it. We didn't really get much Millie backstory or character development. Instead of being insecure about her womanhood due to stereotypes(bad wife), she's now insecure about her race/species due to stereotypes (inbred brute). It's still not the best, but it's better than the leaked storyboard. Otherwise the entire episode was basically Blitz wanting to fuck a ghost. Also Blitz's trauma... again. Felt like filler you could frankly delete.

[reallifetangent]

Arcane Related Content

Serious question.

In case it's not confirmed, I wanna read anyone's takes about it.

Personally I see Viktor as someone older than Jayce. I've know people I thought they were in their 20s and they were 15, so, Jayce could appear older than Vik. Second is that Jayce being younger than Viktor and already achieving or having enough support than Viktor in his whole lifetime would add to the angst and sense of going nowhere for Viktor. The whole "How come this person is younger than me and they already have it all I couldn't even dream of?" Sense (like seeing 12-13 artists with tremendous art styles and following while you've been drawing all your life and barely got somewhere). Still, 1-2 years older than Jayce, not a huge age gap but still enough to make them not be the same age.

Same age would be what I'm currently experiencing with some friends. Seeing someone the same age as you achieving all, having it all, and then there's you. I think this is the less likely one unless Viktor and Jayce studied different careers, explaining why they never met or saw each other before.

Younger Viktor would be the Looking up to someone who's already achieved something, and he's running out of time to get to be something or someone before that age arrives. Like Tick Tick Boom with Jonathan was rushing to do something before he was 30. Also being younger than Jayce with his disease means he might never even get a chance to achieve that.

All of my thoughts are aiming for the internal struggle Viktor might have, all of them comparing to what Jayce has done at his 24- S1 Age and Viktor's in those episodes. All the ages have a way of comparing, either the "I've lost time", "I'm losing time" and "I'm running out of time", for someone like him.

Maybe I'm just projecting, but, aren't Headcanons/Theories either self projections or ways to discover/develop interesting theories and possibilities?

[chastity-himbo]

What do you feel about this:

Everyone can love chastity for different reasons, of course, just like any other kink. Here’s why I do :Chastity takes away a boy’s ability to use his dick. He can’t jerk off, he can’t penetrate anything, he can’t stimulate it, he can’t get hard. To me (and to a lot of people) the dick is the ultimate symbol of masculinity. So when a boy doesn’t have access to it the feel of masculinity alters. He’s no longer in control of his dick, it is now controlled by the keyholder. The boy doesn’t get pleasure from it, the boy can’t get hard, depending on the device, the boy might not even be able to see it. It’s emasculating. Not being able to cum makes the boy very horny. You’d be surprised what males are ready/want to do after not being able to cum for a few days/weeks. That makes him look for pleasure in other places. He wants to be touched anywhere, he wants to touch. In gay boys’ cases they think about dick non stop. They start playing with their ass to get some release so their hole becomes their sex organ. And because their hole is being stimulated and they get pleasure from it, it’s not just a hole anymore. It’s a cunt. They may not want to call it that, but that’s what it is in their head. So we now got a boy who’s hungry all the time, he trembles from the slightest touch and gets lots of pleasure from his new sex organ. Chastity improves sex for the boy. Not only is he more sensitive, but without being able to cum he will always enjoy sex. If you bottom, you know that if you cum - it’s game over. Your top has to stop because you don’t enjoy being fucked anymore. That problem goes away with chastity. Boy is always ready and eager. That, of course, makes sex better for me. Not to mention the hands free orgasm the boy can achieve after enough time in chastity. Once a boy cums without stimulating his clit, he’s changed forever. Chastity also never lets a boy forget who he is. You may be a bottom, you may be a sub. But you don’t think about that part of you when you’re at work or visiting you family or going to parties with your friends. The chastity device is always there, you can always feel it. Horny or not, sad or happy, alone or surrounded by people. You can always feel it, it’s a constant reminder that your manhood was taken away. It keeps you in your place, it never lets you forget that you get pleasure from getting fucked. Every time you need to use the bathroom you are faced with the reality of who you are : male but not a man. That changes a boy. His behavior becomes that of a sub even outside of the bedroom. Chastity builds up a lot of frustration and tension. That’s why it’s also a great way to motivate the boy go to the gym or be more productive in general. I’ve had a boy with a barely average body transform into a beast after just 1 year of chastity. I’m no longer his keyholder, but he still keeps the cage. He doesn’t want it off, because it motivates him so much.

And most importantly, I love chastity because it sets clear roles. The boy is giving up his masculinity for me, he locks it up as a sign of surrender. My dick becomes the only dick in the room and he’s just holes. I’m his Man, he’s my bitch. Fucking a boy while watching his soft clit in his cage being ignored is just very, very hot. I never liked when my bottoms touched themselves during sex. I thought the chastity devices looked a little weird at first. But now I love them. If I see one on a boy it makes me hard instantly. Because that means that he embraced his role as someone who belongs underneath Men.

Can you vibe on this?

You pretty much nailed it in the head. The only thing I’d add is the humiliation aspect of it. Specifically how it requires the brain. One of my favorite things to do is go to the gym locked, plugged, and in a thong and change out in the open in front of all of the other guys there. Nothing quite turns me on as much as the laughs and snickers I get when my tiny cock in exposed in such a way