#i can rent it for more than 5 hours of work :)

[woodfrogs]

fellas im gonna be honest idk how many more 11 hour days i have left in me

[shrimplicitly]

they really make it so fucking difficult for students to access affordable textbooks huh

[dabisqueen]

Pornstar!Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x female reader

⇢ word count: roughly 7K

⇢ plot: as a broke student, you sign up for an assistant job at a movie set. It turns out the job is more than you bargained for.

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, size kink, pierced big-cock Touya, fingering, cunnilingus (f receiving), multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, overstimulation, exhibitionism (sex in front of other people (movie set)), creampie, sweet aftercare

⇢ personal note: thank you @/blankexpressions-and-falsefires for bring my beta again! As for what you're all about to read – I have no regrets. Virgin kink goes brrr

"College has always been so crucial, such an essential part of what measures a person’s worth and determines their future."

They say college life is quite challenging. That it can help you come to realize your potential, that you learn more about yourself while in it. That the challenges you experience in university help you grow into a mature person in society.

You have several challenges to face. There's the problem that you focus entirely too much on your studies. In some ways, it’s to secure your future and to compensate for your lack of private life. In other ways, it makes you, because of inexperience, too naive for your own good. Or, as your friends have called it: too innocent. You've never had anyone touch you, never been with anyone in that way. Thus, you never get the hint when someone hits on you or finds you attractive. You have excellent grades – but unlike many of your peers, you’re still a virgin. 

Another challenge you are facing is that you aren't wealthy. One semester into your studies, you are closer to the end than you expected. Leaving your landlord's buro, you take a few steps before coming to a halt and close your eyes as if to gain some semblance of composure. You're broke and desperately need money to cover your rent and living expenses. The bank isn't going to give you another loan, and you find yourself on the verge of having to leave college without a family to support your education.

They say you have to fail first to be successful in the future. But you are beyond failing – you are simply screwed. 

You are very aware of your financial predicament. And you loathe having to live day to day on just pennies. To put it short—you are sick of being a broke-ass, loser virgin.

You sigh. 

Giving up is not a choice. So you do the next best thing: grab life by the horns and start looking for a job. Searching under your bed, clothing pockets, and between couch cushions, you scrounge up enough money to get a local newspaper. In its classified ads, only a few offers deem themselves feasible with your busy school schedule: a late-night shift at a local diner, pizza delivery, or a job doing telemarketing. None of those sound too appealing, but there might not be a choice. Then, your gaze stops at an offer that sounds too good. A movie company is looking for a production assistant on a film set; you don't need prior experience, work hours are during the weekends, and pay is double what the other jobs offer.

You don’t think before hastily grabbing your phone, punching in the number, and waiting while the dial tone rings.

After a distinct click over the other line, a man hisses, "Shimura?"

"Uhm, hi. I- I am calling about the assistant job offer. I was wondering—"

"You're hired. Tomorrow at 5 pm," the man at the other end interrupts in an annoyed tone.

He rattles off the address as you fumble around for a pen, hastily writing it down when you find it.

Before you can reply, he finishes with Don't be late and hangs up unceremoniously.

You exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath since he started speaking.

What the hell just happened? 

***

The path to the location is littered with brown leaves, and you struggle to keep from slipping as you walk toward the building. The address given to you is an old warehouse on the edge of town. Its monotonous, featureless walls covered in graffiti make it feel abandoned. There are no visible signs that anything is happening inside at all.

As you walk across the parking lot, you start to see small indications of life: fancy cars—far too fancy for this area- and sensual music permeating through the corrugated steel walls. 

You weren’t sure how to dress for a job you knew nothing about, so you opted for blue jeans, a white blouse, and pointy shoes with heels. Your hair is tied into a neat ponytail, and simple smokey eyes complete the look. 

You aim for a large steel door that the cars are all parked close to. As you lift your head, you take in the old brick building you are standing in front of, lined with large casement metal windows. 

There is a single doorbell, no name on it, and you hesitate before inhaling and pressing it with the tip of your finger.

You hear a clicking sound, and then the heavy door swings inwards. 

Alright, here goes nothing.

***

The set is surprisingly professional—like a luxurious bedroom sliced in half. A row of chairs faces the set on a concrete floor behind multiple cameras and some sound equipment, with the crew standing around talking.

The producer, Tenko, as he introduces himself to you–with tufts of pale hair and seemingly chronic dry lips in dire need of some chapstick – explains that your job will consist of helping around the set, distributing beverages, and handing out the script. Simple work you could do. After introducing you to the crew, he hands you a stack of papers, instructing you to pass them out.

Then you see her—the actress. She is gorgeous, dressed in an ivory-colored silk robe. Her hair is the color of the sun. Her skin is flawless and tanned, and her body is perfect- although almost definitely sculpted by a professional surgeon.

"Where the fuck is he?" You hear Tenko grumble, pulling a phone from his pocket, thumb tapping against the screen.

A flurry of activity breaks your concentration. A door flies open, and a man strides through—the leading actor, you gather, from how everyone else suddenly perks up.

"Fucking finally," the pale-haired director groans, tucking his cell back into the pocket of his jacket.

The man's hair is coal-colored, falling in messy strands into his face. His eyes remind you of the bright ocean, almost glowing in the dim light of the set. His sharp lips pull into a wide grin, his canines peeking out. He is casually dressed, wearing a pair of dark, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt, allowing you to notice just how well-toned his arms are. He is handsome, with delicate yet masculine features and sharp angles set in his face. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and his thin lips form a troublesome grin when his eyes meet yours. 

Shit. 

He holds your gaze before dragging his sinfully blue eyes over your figure and looking away again. Your heart skips a beat because even in the low light, you can see that the actor is incredibly hot. Totally your type. You can't help but stare at him, watching how he moves, the way his muscles ripple under the thin fabric of his shirt, the way his thighs bulge in his tight pants. 

Speaking of bulge. 

It's the biggest one you've ever seen, and the sight of it sends a pang straight to your core. Your cheeks heat up automatically. 

Stop it!

You curse inwardly a few times for thinking lewd thoughts on a professional movie set.

But—you can't help it. He just looks too handsome. It stirs something inside of you you've never felt before. You sigh, knowing that this man has already made his way into your dreams, but in the end, they’ll stay just that— dreams. 

Someone like him would never want to lay a hand on you.

As he approaches the stage, the man stops dead in his tracks, staring at the actress with a bored expression. 

“Not her again.” You hear him groan.

The actress snaps her head around, a stunned expression on her face. “Pardon me?”

"The script calls for an innocent girl." The actor deadpans. "No one's gonna believe that with you in the female role."

The actress jumps to her feet. “How dare you talk about me like that!”

Tenko hisses, “Didn't you read the script? You would have known you film with her today, Touya—"

“I told you not to use my real name on set,” he says with a blase, somewhat impatient gaze.

“And I told you not to let out your frustration on the set, Dabi.” The director retorts.

“Frustration caused by your actions.” Dabi deadpans.

You hold your breath as your eyes dart from the director to Dabi and back to the actress. The rest of the crew acts like this is an everyday commotion on the set. 

“This is not a request— I'm not doing the scene with her, " Dabi says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

The actress jumps from her chair, visibly outraged, as her cheeks flare red with anger. “You're such a dick!”

“Yeah, you're right. But I’m the best dick in the industry.” He turns around, a sardonic finality in his tone.

You stare at the scene before you, the forgotten papers clutched tightly to your chest. The blonde woman stares at the dark-haired man, infuriated. 

“So, it's either me—or her.” Dabi addresses Tenko, who isn't even trying to de-escalate the situation. “That's my final say.”

“I can't believe you're doing this to me!" The woman wails exaggeratedly.

"Sweetheart, we need someone who conveys innocence. Not some chick as fake-looking as you," Dabi purrs with false care. “Go carry your plastic off the stage already.”

Tenko scratches his neck in annoyance. He watches as the actress slings an array of profanities at Dabi before storming off with quick strides toward the door, slamming it shut behind her.

The dark-haired man stands at ease, reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a deep drag. “Thank god she's gone. What were you thinking, Tenko?”

“Dabi, she's the most requested—” 

“I don't give a fuck.” he runs a free hand through his dark bangs. “She sucks.”

You listen to them bicker, getting more confused by the second. 

“So—what do you expect me to do now?” Tenko's scratching increases as he starts pacing up and down the set. “Production costs will double if we cut and pick things up on a different day. Not to mention the cost of finding a new replacement.”

He jumps off his chair, pacing around the set. Then he grumbles, “We’ll take a ten-minute break. I need to come up with a solution or else—”

“We need someone Pretty, no makeup, normal clothes.” Dabi suggests, "That won't be too expensive. Someone who looks undefiled, innocent.” Dabi's gaze wanders across the room. “Like a student or something.”

Then he sees you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. His stunning sapphire eyes look you up and down. You swallow hard, your shaking hands almost crumpling the papers in their tight grip.

"Like her." Teal eyes narrow as they focus on you. 

You blink back at him dumbly, the room around you completely silent.

"Me?" You answer, his words catching you off guard.

"Yep. You." Dabi's smirk returns, a playfulness in his eyes. 

The director stares at you with the same baffled expression written on your face. "Her?"

"Yep. Her." His grin widens.

"B-But, I can't!" You counter. " I'm a simple student, not an actress—"

"That's exactly what we need." The twinkle in his eyes is still there, "And you have a pussy, don't you?"

"Yes, I—” You catch yourself, your cheeks flaring hot. “W- What does that even have to do with this movie?"

Suddenly, the room goes alive with murmurs and whispers.

Dabi quirks a brow. "You're telling me you don't know?"

"Don't know what?" You helplessly look around.

The dark-haired man turns to his director, "You didn't tell her?!"

Tenko mumbles something about how you would have found out eventually. 

Dabi steps toward you and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Doll, this is an adult film set."

"A what?" You dumbly blink at him.

"An adult film set. You know, where people fuck." He leans forward, deep azures sparkling salaciously. "You know how fucking works, don't you?"

"Yes, I mean—in theory?" A heat washes over your face and flushes down your entire body.

"Yes or no. What is it?" Dabi asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

The heat in your face has reached the tip of your ears as you stammer. "It's none of your business."

He steps even closer. "C’mon, sweetheart, tell us."

He smirks, eyes narrowing as he leans closer. He looks at your lips, then back at your eyes. You can smell him with how close he is leaning in. His deep, masculine scent surrounds you, sending a jolt of heat straight through your core. Even though your mind wants to scream at him, to tell him off, you hear a timid voice whisper, "I’ve used my fingers? Maybe some toys?"

It is your voice.

"You're telling me you've never done it with another person?" This time, it is Dabi’s turn to sound baffled as he leans back, taking you in. "That you're a virgin."

"I-I…" You stammer, swallowing dryly.

Looking over his shoulders, he calls over to his director, "It'll break records if we film this. You're aware of that, right?"

"I am." Tenko snaps, scratching at his neck irritably, "You don't need to tell me."

"Ok, then it's a deal.” He nods towards you. “I want her—or I'm leaving."

"You little piece of—" Tenko growls. "That's extortion."

"You won't regret it," Dabi says, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Shouldn’t I have a say on this too?" You ask, but both men ignore your words.

"Ok, it's a deal," Tenko murmurs. "How much do we pay her?"

Dabi turns his gaze back to you. "You need money, right? Or else you wouldn't be here.”

"That’s none of your business."

"C'mon, sweetheart, This is your chance."

“Yes, I mean… " a sound of annoyance bubbles up your throat. "I can't afford my rent anymore, and my landlord will kick me out if I don't pay up soon."

“I sense an opportunity here," Dabi smirks. "Tenko, how much will you pay her if she agrees to do this with me?"

"How much do you want?" Tenko asks you.

“I-I don't know. I've never thought about it." You shyly add.

"Pay her rent plus an allowance," Dabi suggests. "Tenko, you know she's worth it."

"That’s too m—" You swallow hard.

Tenko mumbles disgruntledly: "OK, I'll do it.” 

“You what?" His words leave you stunned.

Dabi interrupts quickly. "What he's saying, sweetheart, is that he'll pay for your rent - if you let me fuck you.”

His lewd words and the deep blue pools of his stunning eyes send a flutter through your stomach. 

“In front of all these people?!" 

“That's what porn is all about, doll.” Dabi chuckles, studying your reaction.

You swallow hard.

"So? What's it gonna be?" He cocks his head, waiting. 

You have always prioritized safety, so common sense tells you to stick to your usual way of life. However, look where common sense has led you: You're almost broke and may need to drop out of college. 

This could be a bad decision. But, it's time to throw safety to the sea.

"OK, I'll do it," you proclaim, and a round of applause and cheers erupt on the set while Dabi nods appreciatively.

“Congratulations, you're hired. Now, get ready before I change my mind.” Tenko waves a hand. “We still have a movie to film here.”

Your heart starts to race, a crushing weight bearing down on your chest. But you know that you have no choice. It's either a free porn loan—or being a forced college dropout. Taking a deep breath, you ball your hands into fists, trying to ignore the signs of panic your body is giving you.

"Okay, everyone, resume positions. And hand her the script.” Tenko moves to his chair, sitting down in it. “Let's do the first take." 

"Hold on," Dabi says. "Why not do it a bit differently this time? No script, no acting— just raw footage. The whole thing.”

“You mean a one-shot film?” Tenko looks surprised. “I suppose that would work. Especially with a new actress.”

“Are you okay with that, doll?” Dabi smiles at you, and there's a warmth in his voice that wasn't there before.

“Do I have a choice?” you sigh.

“Not really.” He winks.

"Are you two lovebirds done flirting over there? " Tenko asks, " Because we're ready to film.”

“We weren't flir—” you protest, but Dabi bridges the distance between you.

"So, sweetheart?" He leans in, his face hovering close, sharing a breath with you. "How are you feeling about being fucked on camera?"

“Nervous.” you bite your lips, your face starting to burn.

"Doll, don't be; just focus on me," he soothes, stroking your cheek. “Forget about everyone else; I'll take care of you.”

He takes your hand and pulls you towards the bedroom set.

“Quiet!” Tenko raises a hand, and complete silence falls over the set as the crew prepares to film you both. 

Tenko calls out a set of commands, which different crew members around the room answer.

“Sound?”

“Set.”

“Camera?”

“Set.”

“Roll sound.”

“Sound rolling.”

“Roll camera.” 

“Camera Speed.” 

“Marker.”

A man with a clapper board enters the scene and calls, "Scene one. Take—uhm— whatever." 

Dabi nods, and that is the cue. The lights dim, and the cameras vanish into the darkness; only the red lights betray their existence. 

You glance around, your stomach in knots, as you realize that this is no game, that this is it. The only thing visibly lit was the bed standing a few feet away. The crew's faces are barely visible as everyone watches you, the man behind the camera tilting it, filming you from bottom to top.

“Hey baby, you alright?” You hear Dabi's voice.

“N-No, not really.” You stammer, your hands trembling, your breathing picking up, as your eyes frantically dart around the dark set. “I don't know if I can do this.”

“Sweetheart, look at me.” You feel a finger hook under your chin when Dabi tilts your head to meet his gaze. It's intense, the turquoise of his irises gleaming almost unnaturally. 

You feel your heart sink into your stomach as his thumb caresses your skin. When he closes the already minimal distance between you, your eyes flutter close in reflex. His lips are sensually warm and addicting against your cheek, and your heart starts thrashing wildly inside your chest in response. Something changes between you, an intimacy blooming as the voices of the people mute.

It's all you need to distract your mind, to make your body heat up. Not with anxiety—

—but in anticipation. 

“Are you ready to give me your virginity?” His low voice rumbles close to your ear.

You nod, like in a haze, every caress of his lips causes your skin to tingle, to burn with passion. He shifts, and you feel him faintly brush your lips, and a zap of electricity courses through your veins. Then, your lips are united in his first tentative kiss. They are so soft, and the way he kisses you is so delicate, almost tender— deliberately slow.

You relax, giving in to how wonderful this feels. His tongue slowly traces the shape of your lips, and you feel your brain short-circuiting. Angling your head to the side, you part your lips, begging him to enter. Dabi reacts instantly, his tongue slipping your mouth, delving deeper, tasting you, consuming you.

You groan—how could a man taste so good?

It makes your knees buckle, and you start panting into his mouth, your instincts taking over, your body reacting to his touch. A desire, a passion, awakens like a wild animal roaring, and you feel a wave of arousal pool in your panties. You can't help it, and you slide your hand underneath his shirt, your other hand circling his neck. You can feel him smirking into the kiss, but the sound carries off into a groan when you rake your nails down the small of his back. 

As he breaks away, a warmth lingers between you and him while he admires your wet, pink, swollen lips, "A little eager for your first time, huh?"

The kiss leaves you dizzy, and you can't seem to form an answer, too stricken by his closeness and intoxicating scent.

The moment passes, and then his lips smash against yours so fast you don't even have time to react. He presses his hips against yours, his clothed hardness grazing against your heat, letting you feel just how hard you’ve made him.

Holy shit.

He's not gentle anymore; he's rough and demanding now. He is taking you, enjoying the shaky gasps that leave your lips. Dabi’s hands trail down your side to find your ass cheeks. He lifts you by the thighs onto his waist skillfully, never breaking the kiss. Carrying you easily toward the bed he releases his hold and you topple onto it, panting heavily.

The lights around you heat the air, and you notice one camera panning across the set while the other tracks toward you on a dolly. Just as your heart starts picking up an anxious speed again, you see a movement to the side. Dabi yanks his shirt above his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing with every movement.

The second the fabric touches the floor, he's on you with his lips pressed to yours and his tongue in your mouth. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment of passion and all you can see is him. Your stomach somersaults and the world around you ceases to exist; it is just you and him— the people around you and the cameras wholly forgotten. The world, right now, only revolves around the two of you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes into your mouth, hazy eyes glowing with arousal. "How do you taste so fucking good?”

You feel his hand sneak underneath your shirt to slowly pull it off over your head. Next, he skillfully removes the rest of your clothes off until you are lying below him, sex and breasts cupped by delicate cotton underwear. 

“Look at that,” he muses. “So innocent.”

Sliding his hand behind your back, he unhooks the bra with an expert pinch of his fingers. Your breasts spill out as he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside. Then his gaze lingers on your soft, round tits.

“Damn,” he cups them and squeezes them gently, “Where have you been hiding, girl? You're perfect.”

He slides his fingers over your nipples and a low moan tears from your throat. Dabi lets out a low rumble as his hands continue to work your breasts, rubbing and plucking at your stiffening nipples. There’s a deep throb low in your body, pulsing between your thighs, and you're startled at the way you’re reacting. You are so turned on—his touch only adds to your body’s cravings, and as his large palms glide over your breasts; it pulls the breath from your lungs as it simultaneously fuels your desire. His thumbs drag over your nipples again, rolling it between his fingers before leaning down to lick at your pebbled nub. He makes you feel breathless with excitement the more he focuses on toying with your breasts, rolling the tips back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. 

It makes you crazy with need until you're aching, shivering throughout your entire body. You're gasping for breath the entire time Dabi has his lips wrapped around your erect nub, sucking it to send a tingling sensation straight through to your core. Then he's biting just hard enough to make you squeal before soothing the puckered nub with a flick of his tongue.

“You’ve got the most amazing tits,’ Dabi murmurs against your skin. “So soft and full. So natural.”

While he switches from pliant nipple to pliant nipple, you feel a stray hand hook its fingers under the seams of your panties. He releases your nipple with a pop and peppers kisses down to your tummy while he adeptly pulls the little piece of fabric down and off your legs. You're now utterly naked below him while Dabi continues revering your body with wet kisses and nibbles, moving downward until you feel his warm breath on your pubic mound. He spreads your trembling legs, his eyes glazing over your pussy, pupils expanding and then retracting into pin slits.

"Look at that pretty pussy." His breath is hot against your soaked folds. "And so fucking wet—you're dripping."

A shameful sound spills from your lips at his words, and you writhe in his hold. But his hands keep you in place. 

"You're seriously telling me,” he slides his fingers up and down your glistening folds, “No one's been here before?"

You squirm below him as a camera zooms in on where Dabi’s eyes are affixed– between your thighs.

“Cause you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He snickers. “And I've seen a lot.” 

His warm, calloused fingers slide up and down your slippery folds, his hot breath fanning over your sex. Then he spreads apart your sweet lips; it makes you shudder in anticipation, and Dabi chuckles.

“I can see you twitching for me.” A finger sinks in, making you arch your back the deeper it goes. 

The camera behind him zooms in on your blushing face, and you cover it with trembling hands. 

"Nu-uh, no hiding. Look at me." He slaps your clit lightly—making you jolt. "Let us see your pretty face."

You whimper softly, because you've touched yourself before—

—but this just feels so much more intense.

“Dabi—” you choke out, flinching in pleasure when he slides a hand underneath your ass, 

raising your hips to have more access to you. 

“Relax, baby, I'll take care of you.” A growl tears from his throat, and then he drags his tongue over your gleaming folds, tasting you. 

You cry out, your body shuddering. Over and over, Dabi licks you with deep, claiming strokes, using his tongue to explore every bit of you. 

“Damn, you taste better than anything I've ever tasted.” He pushes his wet muscle into your core, frantic to have more of you. 

“Oh my God. Dabi!” Your toes curl, and your thighs tighten around him. You're both – startled and aroused at his eagerness. Any worries you have are melting away as he drags his tongue over you again and again, making you squirm with need.

A moan escapes your lips– loud, uncontrolled– when his tongue flicks over your folds. When he grazes your little button, you jolt as if you've been stung. 

He hums appreciatively and buries his face into your warmth, seeking out that sweet nub. Your body jerks as he moves his tongue over it, repeating the action when he does it again. You give a little wail, and your hands curl into the fabric the longer he teases. He eagerly works that spot, and you cry out with little choked gasps.

As his tongue circles your clitoris, your sensations spiral out of control. You can feel the tension increasing in your body with a growing urgency to be released. 

“Dabi,” you pant with every flick of his tongue. But he doesn't respond, does not hear– or pretends not to. He buries his face in your folds, hands holding you down by your hips.

With every quiver that moves through your body, with every shiver of response, every tensing of your muscles, you draw closer to the edge.

You writhe against Dabi, with his face between your thighs, lapping at your juices. All the while, he continues to work your little clit with his tongue in slow, steady strokes. 

Suddenly, the feeling that you’re about to cum overwhelms you. Your pussy clenches, dripping with your juices, and your clit is ready to burst.  

Your hips jerk against him, and then a release explodes in your mind, your thoughts crashing all around you. You come with a slight scream that morphs into a moan, but Dabi does not stop his ministrations—

—no.

He continues to lick and suck as you come and come and come.

It's too much; you feel like exploding. You’re a moaning mess, fingers slipping between Dabi’s strands, pushing and pulling at his roots unsure if you can take it if he keeps going like that. 

Your entire body is on fire. The orgasm continues to surge through you– more intense than anything you’ve experienced by yourself– with Dabi gently sucking and licking at your clit. You are delirious, feel like you are floating with no way to find your path back to earth. 

“Dabi, please—” you choke out.

Dabi’s mouth detaches from your overstimulated nub and straightens up, licking your cum’s sweetness off his lips. Crawling on top of you, he gazes into your eyes. “Doll, tell me—what do you want me to do?”

You see his jeans straining from the bulk of his erection and swallow, your body responding with a flood of hormones. 

“Please fuck me,” you whisper, thinking in ways you never have before.

You want to beg him to be gentle, but you can’t seem to form the words when you see him unbuckle his belt before unzipping his jeans, his eyes carefully watching your expression as he does. His cock springs to life, and you swallow thickly. It's enormous—and pierced. 

You feel a momentary pang of doubt, questioning if that monster will even fit inside you. The previous excitement and adrenaline pumping through your veins gradually turn to panic. Your breathing picks up as you stare at his cock, wide-eyed. 

“You look worried,” Dabi says, stroking it with one hand. His raised eyebrows and amused grin tell you he's used to this type of reaction. 

“Are you sure…” you nod towards his cock.

“Trust me,” he says. “I’ll make sure you feel good. It’ll be the greatest thing you'll ever experience.”

Your entire body yearns for his touch, and there’s no way you're saying no now. He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves to hold himself in hand to align his cock with your entrance.  

"Do you want me to fuck you?’ Dabi asks as he drags the head of the tip up and down your slit. 

“‘S not gonna fit,” you whine with a worried expression.

“Don't be scared,” Dabi says, "I know what I'm doing. So, you'll be a good girl and take it all, right?”

“I'm not sure,” you whisper.

“I know you can...” His eyes stare at you with a desire so intense that you almost feel intimidated. 

He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves one to hold himself and align his cock to your entrance. The pressure between your legs increases as Dabi nudges the pierced tip of his cock against you.

“Get ready,” he whispers.

A mix of a gasp and a cry leaves your lips as Dabi strains against you, feeling like he’s trying to shove a massive pole inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears gather in your lashes, and Dabi holds back, kissing you, waiting for you to relax.

“Easy,” he says softly, “I’ve got you.” 

The softness of his tone relaxes you and the tension in your shoulders lessens. Then, somehow, something gives way, and he enters you. You gasp, your body opening up to accommodate the massive dick that is now sliding inside of you. 

"Oh my god—” You throw your head back, hands clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him away.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyebrows furrowing before he hits resistance and then pushes forward.

There’s a sharp pain slicing through your core, and you don't know if it's from the stretch or a tear. Probably both. It hurts, and you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing tears down your cheek. Dabi continues to push his hips forward, only stopping once he’s entirely inside, heavy balls pressed against the crease of your ass. The cameras zoom in on the bulge in your womb, where his dick sits buried deep inside of you. But you don't notice them, your brain too consumed by him filling you up, his whole weight resting against you. 

“You ok?” Breathing heavily, he drags his eyes back and forth over your face. 

“Gimme a sec.” Your lips press into a thin line as the pain from the stretch slowly turns into a dull throb. After a moment, you nod...

"I'm gonna start moving now," Dabi says— and then does precisely that. 

Just as you start to feel your body relaxing, he withdraws, only to plunge himself in again. The sudden shock of the movement is incredible. You feel every ridge, every single thick vein. It feels fantastic, and as he slowly slides back in, you can appreciate every inch of his cock. He starts an even rhythm, rocking inside you gently. 

“Shit, just squeezed me so fucking tight,” he moans in response. "I’m warning you, don't make me lose my composure. You don’t want to see me act up.”

Your mind feels detached from your body; you don't hear him, don't even notice the camera zooming in, focusing on how your face scrunches and your lips quiver because of how good he makes you feel. 

He grabs you by the waist and brings you closer to him. Raising both legs in the air, he pushes them forward until your body is folded in half.

“Oh—shit—” You choke out, the walls of your sex stretching to accommodate him. 

“I’m gonna make you cum,” Dabi is panting hard as he starts driving his cock rapidly in and out of you. “You won't be able to walk for days.”

“I-I can’t—” your jaw slackens as you tighten around his dick again, the ability to form comprehensive answers having left you the moment he breached your walls.

He rams himself deeper while his fingers slip between your strands, guiding your face upward, your mouths colliding in a frantic kiss. 

It starts as a slow burn that gradually builds into a white, blistering heat. A feeling begins coursing through you, making you lose control of your body. You tense and arch your back, your head digging back into the pillow, voice caught in your throat. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, all that tension releases, and you cry out loud, a turbulent wave of pleasure hitting you like a storm. All your nerve endings are seemingly set ablaze while Dabi fucks you through your orgasm. 

His eyes are wide with wonder, hearing and feeling you come undone around him. The way your eyes are shut tightly in pleasure, your entire body trembling and shaking in ecstasy, is the best thing he's ever seen. It makes his chest swell with pride. Still, it feels like it's not enough, though, and he needs more. He wants to own you, possess you, make you his.

Dabi snaps. 

With a suppressed growl, Dabi grabs you by your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. He's not letting you catch your breath before he propels his cock back inside you again. His hand slides from the dip in your spine to the spot between your shoulder blades, pressing down until your face is buried in the sheets. At this angle, he reaches even deeper than before, his piercings rubbing your G-spot just right. Your hands tightly fist the soft duvet with every drive of his hips, knocking the air from your lungs.

Dabi seems delirious, pistoning in and out of you now. Reaching forward, he gathers your hair around his fist, tugging it to keep you in place, forcing your head up from the sheets. You sob out his name, your chin and cheeks covered with your drool and tears. 

But Dabi is drowning too deep in pleasure to notice. 

"I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll never think of anyone but me in your fantasies," Dabi growls while your elbows shake under the pressure of his forceful thrusts.

Slowly, your mind is falling apart with the pleasure pulsing through your body. Dabi starts drilling his big cock into your even faster now. You tremble below him, thighs quivering when you feel another orgasm building up. 

“You gonna cum for me again, princess?” Dabi groans, “I can feel your pussy clenching around me.”

You nod, too exhausted to form any words. Dabi tightens his hold on your hip, fingers digging into your plush skin, holding you still. 

“I’m gonna cum with you,” he tells you. “I’m gonna fill up your tight hole, gonna breed you so good—fuck!”

"Please—" you whimper pathetically, finding yourself trapped in his lewd promises. 

And then you lose it, feeling like the world is disappearing underneath your feet. Pleasure rips through you, leaving you with no strength. It’s an intense tingling pleasure that starts in your core and spreads through your whole body, from your fingertips down to your toes. It's all-consuming and euphoric, your body not knowing what to do with that much sensation at once. 

You feel your body falling off a cliff into a pile of tingling ecstasy as you cum again with a broken whimper escaping your lips. The orgasm is even more potent than the last ones, like a massive burst of pleasure; all that tension explodes and shoots up the back of your legs and everywhere else. You moan and shudder, your pussy clamping around his cock. 

“That’s it,” Dabi lets out a long, shuddering groan. “Just like that.”

You forget to breathe while Dabi keeps fucking your harder and harder, feral with desire, shoving his cock as deep inside you as he can.

“Oh fuck—” You gasp out, arching your back, fingers twisting against the sheets.

No sooner have the words slipped from your lips that you feel your whole body lock tight again—and then unravel. You forget to breathe as an unending cascade of euphoria detonates deep inside of you. You come undone, shaking uncontrollably as juices gush from your pussy, dripping down Dabis balls, drenching the sheets below. 

Dabi groans, his eyes screwing shut, head dropping back. With one final possessive thrust of his hips, he cums, shooting his seed deep inside you. You feel his cock twitch as he moans heavily, eyebrows sewn together. His body is shuddering, his hips hitching while he rides out his orgasm.

You’re faintly aware of your surroundings, buried too deeply in your bliss. Unable to take any more pleasure, you slump backward. Dabi slides his softening cock from you with an obscene wet sound before dropping down onto the bed beside you, taking you with him.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, caressing your skin. “That felt so—”

‘And—cut!’ You hear a voice call, speaking its way into the mush that is your brain, slapping you back to reality.

You open your eyes and look around in shock, having completely forgotten where you are. The lights switch on, almost blindingly bright. People start hustling about the set, and cameras mere inches away from you now pull back into their waiting positions. 

“That was perfect,” you hear Tenko say through the noise filling the set now.

Your breath catches in your throat, an unsettling feeling beginning to well inside you. Your heart starts pounding at an increasingly rapid pace while you feel panic stretch its icy fingers up your spine.

You feel a warm hand cradling your face, angling it to the side. It’s Dabi. He places his mouth over yours without further ado. 

“You are perfect.” Dabi coos into the kiss, and it happens again— butterflies erupt in your gut, the world around you fading until there's only you and him.

Instinctively, you let go, feeling the tension slowly dissipate and your heart calming down. Dabi smiles as he breaks away from you, and you feel it— a lingering warmth, an unseen connection that spins fragile threads between you both.

A man approaches to help you get out of bed, but Dabi, whose face is still dewy with sweat, moves between you both. He takes the bathrobe from the guy and wraps it around your shivering body before getting dressed himself.

Helping you off the bed, he drapes an arm around your shoulder and leads you past the celebrating crew members from the set until you’re backstage. 

Once in the changing room, he closes the door behind him and leans against it. 

“That was something…” he muses. “You’re a natural. Would you ever consider doing this again with me?’ 

You're caught off-guard, his face radiating a tenderness that fills your heart with something joyful. A warmth spreads across your face, your hands gripping the soft belt of your robe as you nip at your lower lip. “I-I don't know.”

“You should,” Dabi kicks off the door frame and saunters over you with a sinful, obscene sway of his hips. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing in a silent agreement, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Think about it…”

He lets the words hang in the air for a second. When he pulls away, his arms wrap around your neck, lower half still pressed against you as if you’re not a stranger. He looks down at you like the two of you have been dating for years.

“So, I was wondering… what are you doing later on?” Dabi kisses the tip of your nose. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat and get some drinks?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” A new desire for him grows inside of you. You smile back at him, reaching up to gently play with his dark hair.

“Maybe?” His lips curl into a devious smirk.

“Is this even allowed?” Chest to chest, your heartbeat slowly catches up to his, as if your bodies react simultaneously to each other's warm touch.

“Maybe?” Dabi repeats, his thumb gently brushing along your lips.

When you look into his eyes, a tenderness softens the rough edges of his sharp features. It makes you wonder, he’s been so sweet and caring after everything that happened today– you actually believe he’s a genuinely sincere and nice guy. You feel your heart quiet when you’re with him, as if you have found peace. 

“Well…” you consider, “I've just thrown all my morals into the wind. So, might as well go on a date with a pornstar, right?”

“You won't regret it.” Dabis laughs softly. “Even though you might not be able to move after I'm done with you—”

“Is that so…” You are torn between scolding him or laughing because he's so cute. “Ok, big boy, whatever you say.”

[zlut4rina]

Imy♡

Storyline: Working overnight at a busy office job wasn't everyone's cup of tea, especially not your clingy girlfriends.

Pairings: Student!Ning x Businesswoman!reader

Warnings: public sex, phone sex, dirty talk (ithink)

Note: Both are 18+, obviously, ik I said I was making ning fluff, which I am obviously, but i wanted to make it two parts, and this just came to mind for part 1. Sorre

Word count: 2k (pretty short, idk how you could make 5k+ with just phone sex 😭)

___________________________________________

You hated your job. It was one of the most insufferable places on earth. But the money was good, you needed the money. You weren’t struggling to pay rent or for food. You were actually quite ahead on your bills. The reason being was because of this job, also with the help of your pretty roommate. After the fallout between you guys and a mutual friend, she was kicked out of their house. So you decided to take her in, of course. Unlike you, she was tight on money but somehow still managed to stay in her uni without problem. Ever since then, you two have been living together, then long after you bloomed a relationship with her. She was now your girlfriend of one year and three months, and you couldn’t be happier.

Present time

While finishing up a few papers left by your boss, you noticed some unopened emails on your screen. When opening them, you see at least 5 different request sent to you by a few employers and your boss. You sigh in annoyance, having a feeling you’re going to be here a bit longer than planned. Scrolling through your inbox, skimming through everything, you finally click one and start working. That’s when a coworker walks up to you, leaning on your wall divider. “How long you plan on being here, I thought only six of us had the night shift.” His question sounded genuine with concern in his voice, looking around the office as if scanning to make sure his count was right. “Seven is an odd number y’know” he lets out a stupid chuckle, one you’ve hated for so long. Looking up at him, taking you from your concentration, you spoke. “I have extra work I need to get done. Maybe I’ll be promoted, who knows. Doubt you would.” The last remark was snarky. You gave him a sarcastic smile, turning back to your work. The man left with a scoff, not before whipping a few papers off your desk, scrambling them in the process. You clicked your teeth at this. It wasn’t anything new. It wasn’t something you weren’t used to by now.

Continuing your work, already done with three of the assignments listed to you, your phone rang. Feeling the buzz on your thigh, you take it out, to your realization it was your girlfriend. You turn your head to the bottom corner of your computer screen to check the time. Seeing it was two hours past when you’d usually be home, a bit of sadness washed over you. Picking up the phone, you put it to your ear. “Hey baby, sorry I’m not home yet. I’ve got extra work I’ve gotta get done.” You spoke quietly into the speaker of your phone. Not to draw attention to yourself, your coworkers were all across the room, some just a row behind you. “It’s fine. I was just worried, is all” your girlfriend said, shuffling in bed, to get comfortable. “How long till you can come home, I miss you” she said in a whiny tone, her voice a bit hoarse due to being tired. She must’ve just woken up, you thought to yourself before answering her. “A while, baby, not too long, though. Don’t miss me too much, cutie.” You chuckled a bit as you spoke, earning a playful whine from the other side of the phone. “Hey I’m gonna connect my headphones so I can finish this work, okay, cutie?” The other girl responded in a hum as you pulled out your airpods and connected them to your phone. I'm sitting right next to your keyboard as you get back to work.

Half an hour had passed with you giggling and snickering at your phone. Finishing some more work, the other end of the call was a bit silent sometimes. She didn’t answer you with words mostly with hums or a few “uh huh’s” there wasn’t a problem in that at all, she was probably sleepy I mean its way passed 10 so of course she’s a bit less talkative. “I miss you” suddenly the other side of the phone spoke. Your eyes widened a bit, taking you out of your trance, and the corner of your lips formed a small grin. “I wish you were here right now” your girlfriend spoke in a soft tone. Barley able to hear her. “Me too, baby. I hope you're keeping the bed warm for me when I get home.” You let out a soft chuckle as she giggled quietly. Once again, you heard shuffling through the phone her sighs we slightly audible too. “Are you sleepy?” You asked after the other end went silent. It took a while to gain a response from her. “No, I can’t sleep, not yet” You laughed a bit at her words. Between the two of you, Ning was very clingy she held onto you like a lost puppy. You two were always together. She would even follow you to the bathroom sometimes. She loved being your little spoon, too, anytime you two cuddled. “You should sleep, love, I won’t be home till maybe around one in the morning” saying this caused you to frown. You really wanted to be in bed right now. Holding your favorite girl, planting sweet, soft kisses on her. But no, you just HAD to notice those emails. “I tried, I need you here, holding me. Your arms wrapped around me, I need you.” Hearing her voice, she sounded so needy, desperate. She really did need you, especially at this very moment.

“I miss you too. I can’t stand being away from you for this long. I haven’t kissed you in forever.” You whined out quietly. It really has been long, seeing as two of your coworkers have already left and headed home. “There’s a lot you haven’t done to me in a while …” the other side spoke, catching you off guard. You froze. Ruffling and strange movements were heard from your phone. It lasted a while, too. Coming to your senses, you finally connected a few dots “Like what baby” you asked in a mocking tone, smiling to yourself as well. “I think you know” her voice was husky, yet her words flew out smoothly. “Hmm I’m not sure. Maybe you could refresh my memory?” You teasingly asked her, your smiling becoming a bit bigger. “Fuck why can’t you just get here already ..” She let out a sharp sigh as she spoke. You giggled at her words, she really does miss you huh “So impatient baby, hmm I wonder what would I be greeted with if I were there right now.” You leaned back in your chair, you felt a bit cocky in this moment crossing your arms behind your head. “Your very needy, wet, horny and spread girlfriend that’s what” you could hear her soft sighs and whines through your headphones. It was a bit too quiet for your liking so you turned your volume up. “That’s a sight to see y’know, fuck I’d love to be there right now and ruin you. I bet that’s what you want huh, my fingers deep inside your aching pussy” a few moans were heard along with a few wet sounds from her fingering her pussy. “Your so disgusting, touching yourself at this hour, begging to be fucked senseless”

Giggling to yourself in the moment you check your surroundings, seeing nobody is paying you any mind you continue to focus in your desperate lover. “I bet you can’t wait for me to get home. Can’t wait for me to fucking ruin that pretty body of yours.” You bit your lip at the thought of it, sighing to yourself. Your girlfriends’ moans were getting louder, you heard a soft thud as your girlfriend placed her phone down beside her. “Fuck, I need you so bad right now!” Ning wasn’t really the time to vocalize her needs like this, she was quieter and let her body do most the talking when it came to sex between you two. Seeing this side if her changed something in you. You had to get this side out of her more often. “I can’t really hear you that well though baby, doesn’t sound like you miss me that much.” You tease her tilting your head placing your chin in your hands, staring at your computer screen. Imagining what she looks like right now. “You wanna hear how bad I need you, yea?” She took her phone in hand and turned her camera on. The camera facing the ceiling, before she slowly brought it down to her milky fingers going in and out of her drenched pussy. You could only stare at your screen, has she lost her mind ? This isn’t the same girl a few hours ago. This isn’t the same girl you gave breakfast in bed to earlier. Snapping you out of your thought, she moved her camera in all angles giving you the greatest views of her soaking wet body. “Fuck baby, see? See how bad I need you right now, you’re telling me work is more important than pleasing this?” her voice became higher in pitch the more she went on, bucking her hips into her hand. So desperate for more, so desperate for you.

The sound of her moans and the way her body moved into her hand was driving you crazy. That should be you. You should be the one pleasing her right now. Except you're stuck here watching your pretty girl work for her orgasm. Licking you’re lips at the sight, your hand slowly went down to your pants, unbutton them swiftly. Looking around the office for any wandering eyes. Your hands slipped down to your soaking panties circling your clit slowly. A soft sigh left your lips as you closed your eyes gently. Your motion on yourself fastening, closing your legs ever so slightly due to the feeling rushing inside you. “Baby ..” you whispered head falling down, biting your lip a little. Roughly enough to leave a mark. Moving from your panties you put your hand inside playing with your wet fold. Slowly teasing your entrance, moving your fingers in and out, but not the full length of them. Your girlfriends’ moans were louder than before the camera shaking, hips bucking up and down. Her tiny whines and quiet curses driving you nuts. “You close baby?” you asked working your fingers in yourself. “mhm …” She answered her voice whiney and needy. Flipping the camera she faced it to her exposed chest, cupping one breast and playing with her nipple. Of course taking her hand away from her heat upset her a bit, but she knew you loved seeing her touch herself. Just for you and nobody else. “So pretty baby, you look so good. Fuck I wish I was there to taste you” your words making her whine and bite her lip, putting her fingers back into her soaking wet pussy. “I wanna feel your tongue deep inside me, taste how good you make me feel.” You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips, and honestly you didn’t care if anyone heard. Your too focused on the beautiful piece of art in front of you to care.

Your pace with your fingers quickened inside you, spreading your legs a little wider for easier access. Biting your lip to conceal your moans, you threw your head back against the head of your chair. Phone in one hand and the other in your pants. You could feel your climax reaching near. You could tell she was close too with the way her body was moving and how fast her hand had gotten. “You better cum baby, just for me, ruin those sheets” you gritted your teeth together and you felt closer and closer to the edge having forgotten all about your work, the time, and if the people around you were aware of your little situation. “Fuck baby I’m so close, I wanna cum in your mouth all over your face.” Her words sent you over the edge cumming all over your hands and in your pants. You wanted to close your eyes but you couldn’t look away from her perfect body and how it reacted to finally releasing all that built up tension in her code. She let out high pitched moans and cute whines as she came, not stopping after wetting her fingers she played with her clit a little more. The fast circles she was rubbing on herself made her squirt all over the bed her camera catching all of it. Her body squirmed at the pleasure and release. The call was almost quiet, all that could be heard was the heavy breaths your girlfriend was taking. Her small gasp and her little whimpers. You watched all this go down, finally growing tired of waiting you buttoned your pants up and packed your things to head out and head home to your girlfriend. “Fuck, hurry home, okay? I miss you” your girlfriend said before ending the call.

___________________________________________

[babsaros]

being evicted from my "home" suddenly after 5 years and need support

Hi all, i really really really hate that I have to make this post, and the background feels too personal to get into, but after 5 years of living here in what i thought was an amicable and indefinite arrangement, I am being forced to find alternate housing as my relationship with our landlord has completely deteriorated over this winter. My girlfriend and I have until the 31st to be completely moved out. We intend to follow through on this no matter if we have somewhere else secured or not. Living out of our car would be preferable to dealing with any more hostility or attempts at manipulation from our landlord. I work 30+ hours a week in retail, my girlfriend does online sex work and has a potential part time job lined up as well, but because this is so unexpected we have basically no savings. I have some very dear, generous friends offering to spot us on moving costs and first month's rent, as long as I can find somewhere, but I would prefer not to rely on them so heavily. It doesn't make me feel any better to e-beg, but know that I will be immensely grateful for any amount of support we receive at all, especially when I know so many other people are in equally vulnerable positions, including those attempting to survive and flee the genocide in Palestine.

If you are not in a position to donate, please do not feel pressured to! Just sharing this post would also be incredibly helpful, and I sincerely thank anyone who gives us support in any way.

I can offer small doodles as compensation for donations, though please bear in mind my turn-around may take longer than normal as I deal with everything else. I have full commission info and slots on kofi, and you can see more of my art style on my blog. Anyone interested in supporting my girlfriend through OnlyFans can DM me for the link to her page.

Book-ending this post with a picture of my cat, to make myself feel better. I love him more than the world. He's cuter than the two of us anyway, and deserves to be warm and safe.

[arbitrarykiwi]

Pill Poppin!

Thanos/Choi Su-bong (Player 230) x Fem producer!reader smut one-shot

Summary: you’re a self made producer, making tracks for many underground rappers, but one client always gets under your skin. Choi Su-bong. He’s forgot to pay you on more than one occasion, shows up to your studio like he owns the place and is so cocky it’s annoying. When he shows up to your studio at 2am randomly, he comes bearing gifts- one of them being the little pill you’ve been dying to try.

Warnings: smut (18+), drug usage, weed and alcohol mention, pill swapping, reader is described to have used various drugs before, you take a lil aphrodisiac pill with him <3, sex under the influence, spit- lots of spit, oral (f receiving), pet names (slut n bitch is used a couple times), dirty talk, squirting, creampie, i feel like Thanos in himself is a mf warning, there prolly more- read at your own risk.

You huff, clicking the same three buttons yet again, removing a small snippet of some drums and clipping it back- trying to get it right.

You tucked your knees up onto the chair you sat on, reaching out to grip the desk- pulling yourself forward on the wheeled chair, tucking yourself comfortably in front of the mouse and keyboard.

Recently, you found yourself working late nights in the small music studio you rented. For some reason the summer months had people lined up at your door with cash in hand offers for your beats. So there you found yourself, blanket over your shoulders, knees tucked up to your chest as you work on the same .5 seconds of the track over and over- trying to get it right.

Your eyes are tired, your ears ringing with the same loop of drums, snares, and mouse clicks. The routine ensemble of sounds is interrupted by three loud and harsh knocks at the door to your studio.

It causes you to jump, launching off your headphones and whipping around in your chair to glare at the door. Maybe you misheard it?

Three more loud knocks, the force shaking the door. You look over to the large digital clock, 1:45am. You weren’t expecting anyone.

You get up out of your chair in a slow creeping motion, the fluffy blanket dropping off your shoulder and piling into the black chair you just got out of. You make your way over to the door- your slippers shuffling against the carpet.

When you make it to the door you look back to your workstation- open alcohol cans and a tray full of weed. Great- you think. Could be the fucking cops you’re opening the door to and you have nearly an ounce scattered around the place.

You unlock the door, unchain the deadbolt and crack it open, peering around the door with an annoyed scowl. Your body is tense as you see who’s at your door. The light from your music studio floods the street from behind you in a thin line. You can’t make out exactly who’s there, but you see it’s definitely not a cop- no weapon belt or badges and you sigh, much more relaxed, shoulders dropping.

You open the door more- your face still in the scowl. “You knock like the fuckin’ cops. Now what do you-“

You’re cut off as the light floods out into the street, revealing who exactly is at your studio this hour. “Su-bong?!” You say both annoyed and surprised.

“I’ve been telling you~ it’s Thanos, baby.” He says pushing past you and into your studio. You scoff, opening your mouth to object but you don’t, instead closing the studio door behind him and locking it back with a sigh.

“Okayyyy,” you draw out, the word accompanied by a roll of your eyes, “Thanos.” You correct with a scoff. You scowl when he makes himself comfortable on the couch in your studio, like he owns the place.

“What are you doing here. It’s late and I already gave you your track…” your tired eyes widen as you dart to the computer “…didn’t I?!” You say frantically, sitting back in your chair and pulling it to the desk, beginning to rapidly open your email to see if you actually sent it to him- that had to be why he showed up so randomly.

You hear him laugh, “Señorita,” he called out with a cocky tone, you can hear the stupid smirk on his face even with your back turned to him, “you sent me by beat, it was perfect. I can’t just come by to see my favorite producer?” He says leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

You groan, annoyed that he made you so worried, you grip a small plush bear that sat at your desk, turning around and throwing it at him, “You fucking asshole!” You yell. He simply catches the bear midair and laughs. Then you spin the chair you sit in to look at him, and eyebrow raised in an accusatory look. “So you came by…at…” you turn to the clock behind you, “2 in the morning just to see me?” You ask.

He shrugs, “Yeah exactly that. Wanted to see your pretty face.” He says, tilting his head with his smirk widening, almost akin to the cheshire cat. You cross your arms and glare at him.

You knew he either came around when it was time to pay or cause trouble. He was no stranger to paying you late for the tracks you send him, or showing up to your studio high out of his mind in the middle of the night to beg you to record an incoherent track, or to crashing on your couch in the studio when he gets evicted for a week before he gets a new place, or to even beg you for free work.

For years he has caused you nothing but trouble but you still worked with him, you still let him crash on the couch, and you still let him have new beats despite having not paid for the last one you made him. You were attracted to him in some weird way but it pissed you off so much. You realize now, at 2 in the morning as he lays sprawled out on your couch, legs up and laid back like he owns the place, you snap.

“I don’t care what you’re here- it’s 2am, You barge in here, acting like you own the place. I really am fucking doing any free work for you, I’m fucking sick of you coming around here late at night and pulling dumb dumbass stunt.” You scold your anger beginning to rise. “And you know what else-“

You’re immediately cut off by him bolting up off of the couch, bounding over to you in a single step. His hands slam against the armrests of the chair you’re sitting in, caging you in. His face is inches from yours. You can’t even see his irises, his pupils are blown out beyond belief- he’s beyond fucked up. The quickness of him changing from annoying but somewhat charming to terrifying is… well terrifying.

His teeth are clenched, his breath is heavy and it comes out in heaving puffs as he glares at you. “You just don’t know when to shut your fuckin mouth.” He seethes, emphasizing his words by slamming his hands on the armrests of the chair, the sheer force causing the chair to shake. “Rude bitch.” He spits out.

Your initial fear is taken over by rage, you sit up taller in your chair, your gaze narrowing, “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” He says, his voice raising. One of his hands picks up from the armrest and grips your chin. The grip is rough, painful, you’re sure it will leave bruises if he didn’t let go soon.

You swallow thickly, trying to pull back from his grip but it’s impossible. “You’re going to fix your attitude and shut the fuck up for one second.” He growls, pushing your face back and releasing his grip. You know better than to move or speak.

You look up at him with wide eyes as he pulls back, standing up straight. “I came here for multiple reasons.” He growls, his voice still raised and seething. “For one, I brought all the money I ever owed you and then some.” He says, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out a massive wad of cash and throwing it onto the desk next to you.

“Second, I came to show you that the last track you made, the song and music video I put out hit over 3 million views allowed me to get a hook up for you with the big DJ that you always ramble on and on about. He wants to work with you.” He says pacing around the room, your mouth just drops open, you can hardly process what’s going on.

He pauses his pacing, returning back to you, arms on the armrests of the chair- caging you in again, but this time it isn’t as violent. “And lastly, I remembered you whining that you didn’t get to try that new shit that just dropped yet so I brought you some. I came to do it with you so you’d have a fucking trip sitter.” He seethes.

You genuinely think you’re already tripping and you know you’ve only smoked maybe one blunt in the last hour but you could not believe what you were hearing. He’s brought you what looks like seven times what he owed you- something in all the years of knowing him you’d never thought he would have done.

He somehow got your beat to not only go viral but the vitality got your favorite DJ to converse with him. You couldn’t even fathom that he remembered your various rambles about how much you liked this specific DJ- but somehow he remembered and set up a collab for you?!?

And lastly, he remembered a passing comment you made about wanting to try the new colorful pills that had hit your shared circle of people, not only bringing it to you for free- but offering to stay with you while you tried it for the first time.

He smirks, scoffing when he realizes you’re at a loss for words. “You just keep running your mouth and don’t let me fucking talk. So what is it? Huh??” He asks his hands coming up to either side of your face to cup your jaw and force your neck to crane upwards. “You gonna keep bitching, or are you gonna be nice?” He says, shaking your head back and forth like you were just a dog or something.

You swallow, wanting to hit him or yell at him to get out but the way he looks at you, the crazy stunt he just pulls and his proximity- you simply bite your lip then nod. “I’ll…” your voice comes out hoarse, cracking as you speak. You don’t even get to try again before he’s laughing. “Where’s that bratty attitude of your’s now? Can’t fuckin’ speak now, huh?” He speaks in an amused growl. His hand taps on your cheek in quick succession, “C’mon now, speak up.” He says in a mocking, sing-song voice.

You clear your throat before speaking, “I’ll be nice…” you say softly, “Thank you..” you add. You don’t even have to be asked- you mean it. All these years of wishing. hoping that somehow he’d show some signs of actually caring about you- he finally did it, in his own weird way. He came here late at night to give you gifts you don’t think even your best friends could think of.

He seems to relax some, letting out an annoyed sigh but collecting himself. He already hated that you made him feel all weird- like how he feels he has a heart condition with the way he swears it skips a beat when he hears you laugh or now- when you were just standing up to him, oh so defiantly, and so quickly turning into a deer in headlights, wide eyes looking at him trying to wrap you mind around what’s going on.

It’s cute.

You’re cute.

He lets out a low noise, one that reverberates off his chest and resonates deeply in his throat. He keeps his hand on your jaw, his eyes tracing over your face- pupils blown out- he’s already high. His hand that’s not keeping your face in place comes up to his neck, gripping at the silver chain and pulling it up, hand running down the length of the chain to grip at the large cross locket at the end.

“Now do you want the shit or not?” He hisses, dangling the cross locket in front of your face like a toy. And when you nod, staring at him with a frenzied, wide eyed stare- the grin that spreads across his face is wicked. “Good girl…” he hums, dropping the locker and taking a step closer to you.

He’s standing between your legs as you sit stunned, so close to you that you can smell his cologne and the undertone of the last blunt he smoked- it’s oddly intoxicating. His hand still on your chin forces you to look up at him, almost painfully so, pulling you so your chin is practically touching his stomach.

The best part about this, he thinks- you just let him.

You just let him manipulate you, looking up at him like he was your king who was bestowing you with a royal gift. Your lips are slightly parted, he can feel your heavy breaths against his stomach, and fuck, if it isn’t one of the best ways he’s seen you.

“You’re always so bitchy ya know that?” He chides with a smirk. He stares at you some more, just taking you all in, his thumb moves to run along your bottom lip. “’m not!” You call out at his insult, his eyebrow quirks up as he hears you try to talk back to him. It’s funny how you think it will do anything, given the position you’re in- the position you so compliantly let him move you into.

“Mhm sure…” he lets out in a long drawn out hum, his grasp suddenly becomes harsher, making you let out a whine at pressure, “then what was that dumb fuckin’ stunt you just pulled? Hm?” He says, leaning down, his face inches from yours, teeth clenched and words coming out in terse angered syllables.

“Yelling at me like that…” he says, his grip loosening and his words becoming almost a playful scolding. “S’like no one ever taught you manners.” He says with a pout, his voice soft- almost pitiful. “S’okay…Thanos‘ll teach you…” he says, both his hands coming up to old your face, squishing in your cheeks and shaking your head.

It’s a little unsettling how rapid his emotions seem to change- it should terrify you but you’re not normal…no, the way it puts you on edge and unnerves you only makes a warmth grow in your lower stomach and your thighs press together desperately.

He notices your thighs, pressed together and rubbing against each other- trying to get some sort of relief for the heat that envelops your cunt. It’s a quick movement that has you keeling over in your chair, his hands drop from your face and push your knees apart. “And here you are…” he growls, bringing his face so its level with yours. “…rubbing your thighs together like some bitch in heat when I’m trying to talk to you.” You can’t help the moan that slips out your lips, the absence of the pressure your thighs were creating brings the ache in your cunt to tenfold.

The movement forces you to realize how much he’s effecting you. It brings up years of pent up sexual tension that has your chest heaving and your panties beginning to feel damp. “I-“ you choke on your words, embarrassed at how easily he caught on to you trying to ease the ache in your pussy by squeezing your thighs, “it’s not what you think.”

When the words fall out of your mouth, you know it’s dumb. It’s stupid. Lying through your teeth when you know there’s nothing it’s it could be.

“Oh really?” He says laughing, his hands forcing your legs apart even as they try to fight his grip to try and close. His eyes move from your face to your clothed cunt- shielded by your sweatpants and underwear. “So if I checked right now, your pretty pussy wouldn’t be soakin’ your panties?” He says, moving his face down from being level with yours to being level with the crotch of your pants, laughing at your desperate attempt to hide how needy you really were. You shake your head no.

He laughs. He knows you’re lying….there’s a darkened spot on your sweatpants- there’s no way of hiding it yet you’re still set on lying to keep some sense of pride. How adorable. Despite the two layers of clothes, you can feel his breath and it has you draw in a shuddering breath. “Like I said…someone oughta teach you some manners…don’t you know lyin’s bad sweet girl?” He hums, eyes looking up at you from his spot between your legs.

“So I’ll give you a chance…since it seems you haven’t been fucked good enough…haven’t been set straight.” He rambles on, breath fanning over your covered cunt. You can hardly hear what he’s saying, you can only focus on how good the purple haired male looks between your thighs. “So let’s try again…” he says, placing a kiss directly over your clit that’s hidden by your sweatpants. You jump at the contact, body twitching and hips chasing his mouth. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as your heavy breaths turn into soft whines. “If I checked…and think about this real hard princess..” he says, with a wicked grin, “If I checked, your cunt would be soakin your panties, huh?”

You nod, “Mhm…” you hum through your bit lip. He grins and rewards you with another kiss to your clothed pussy. “Seeee~” he says in a sing song voice “S’not so hard is it?” He’s pulling back, standing back up straight to hover over you.

“Now…you said you want some of this shit?” He says, gripping at the cross locket that you know holds the drug you’ve been desperately wanting to try. “Y-yes…” you respond, he looks at you with a warning glare. “Y-yes please.” You correct yourself.

He nods, hand reaching out to hold your chin, “atta girl, you’re learning.” He hums, thumb rubbing over your bottom lip. “Open up f’me.” He says, and you obey, your mouth opening. He lets out a soft laugh, the hand that was cradling your jaw in its iron grip moves to the back of your head. His fingers entangle themselves in your hair to keep your head right where he wants it. “There you go….” he praises, “Now you’re listening, not so hard is it?” He says with a shit eating grin. His eyes scan you, “Fuck you look good like this…” he says, mumbling through gritted teeth.

He keeps you held there, mouth agape as he moves to grip the cross locket again. With a shaky hand, he opens the locket and dumps two of the colored pills out. You watch on as he closes it, fumbling with it a bit to get it closed back with one hand.

When he drops the chain and locket back down, it falling back on his chest, he pops the two pills in his mouth. “Tongue out.” he commands, his words muffled by the pills he has tucked in his cheek.

You suck in a breath, trying to tell yourself to have some shame- to tell him off and kick him out. But as you intend to move your mouth to yell at him- no words come out- instead you obey. Tongue lolling out of your mouth.

He seems to catch on to the way your mind fights itself- he can see it in the way your eyes dart around, trying to look anywhere but him, to talk yourself out of this. But your eyes return back to him, looking up at him oh so expectantly, and giving in once again- waiting patiently for whatever he has to offer.

He tilts your head back the slightest bit, sucking his teeth. You’re confused at what was going on until a trail of his saliva drops down from his pursed lips. It hit your tongue in a warm wetness, one that you had you letting out a breathy whine, eyes rolling into the back of your head when you taste him. Your tongue sinks back into your mouth, lips closing.

Only when you close your mouth, his spit mixing with yours, do you realize he’s spit one of the pills he had tucked into his cheek, into your mouth. You chew the pill, knowing it will make the effect of the drugs hit you faster.

He hisses, your little sound doing numbers on him. He reaches down with the hand that’s not in your hair to palm his erection. As you watch on, tongue licking your lips and pupils beginning to dilate, he continues- only gripping at his clothed cock harder under your gaze.

The way you can’t figure out what to look at, his face or where his hand fists the tent in his pants has him snapping. He surges forward, and bends down attaching his lips to yours in a frenzied manner.

You whine into his mouth, arms coming up to lace around his neck and pull at the purple baby hairs at the base of his neck. It’s a messy, sloppy clash of lips and teeth.

You’re quick to haul yourself into a standing position, pressing your body against him, fingers pulling at his hair and keeping him bent down. His hands are over you in a feverish haze, trailing under your shirt to grip at your waist. The warmth of his hands makes a jolt run up your spine forcing you to arch into his touch.

His teeth bite down on your bottom lip, pulling at it as he parts to begin yanking your shirt over your head. You step back, pulling it above your head by yourself- you suddenly feel so so hot, like your insides are on fire. When you look back up to him he smirks, grabbing the sides of your head to pull you close to him.

His palms cover your ears, painted nails tangled under your hair as he stares directly into your eyes, when he finds what he’s looking for his grin widens, “You’re starting to feel it, huh? Works quick doesn’t it?” He mumbles in a low voice, he was looking at your eyes.

Your pupils, although you couldn’t see them, were blown out, a sight that only made him want to devour you more. It was like you were a little fawn, looking at him like he was a wild wolf about to strike. You bite your lip, letting out a ‘mhm’ as you nod.

He laughs at your state, his hands moving down the sides of your neck over to your arms- running the tips of his fingers down your skin. He continues, looking down on you as his colorful nails trace along the swell of your tits, running over the top of your bra before ghosting his thumbs over your nipples hidden behind the lace fabric of your bra.

It was insane how pleasurable it felt. Just a simple touch has you keening over, falling into his chest with heaving breaths. It felt like his fingers electrocuted you in waves that only helped to force syrupy drips of arousal out of your cunt and into your panties.

“Heh…yeah it’s working.” He mocks his hand cradling your back, running up your spine until he reaches the back of your bra, doing it with an expertise that should make you uneasy- he’s had to do that many times before- but you just pull away and try to hurriedly shove the straps off your shoulders and pulling the fabric off.

He wants to mock you, degrade you for being so easy, so shameless- but when he finally sees the tits he’s been dreaming about for years, his mouth is watering. He’s back on you like lightning. Hands reaching up to massage the flesh in his palms. “Fuck…I knew you’d have a perfect set of tits on you…fuckin picturesque.” He rumbles, eyes transfixed on how the flesh of your breasts spills out between the spaces of his fingers when he squeezes harder.

“F-feels s-so fucking good..” you whine out it’s raised at the end, like you’re questioning how you can be this worked up with him fondling your tits. He bits his lip and nods, “Awh I know sweetheart…” He coos, a pout forming on his face that you know isn’t sincere. “…see the thing about this drug here that you were so eager to take…without asking what the trip is like I may add…”

He says, like you’re some dumb girl new to the drug scene- you weren’t. Far from it. But he did have a point. You just heard about how good the trip was, not what made it so good.

One of his hands drops from your breast to wrap his arm around your waist caging you into him. The hand that was still attached to your breast moves to pinch your nipple, pulling at it, “…it’s main highlight isn’t the visuals like the shit you’re used to doing…” He begins to talk again, smiling at how you twitch against him, “’s the feeling of euphoria it gives you when you’re getting fucked stupid. Makes every touch so so so…” he repeats, every ‘so’ he’s pulling harder at your nipple, “so much better..” he finishes finally releasing your nipple, eyes trained on the way your breast falls back against your chest with a lewd jiggle.

You can only pant against him, hands gripping at his shirt and nodding helplessly. You want his clothes off. You want to feel him against you. You whine, pulling your head off his chest to stare up at him, tugging at his shirt like some needy puppy.

“Manners slut. C’mon. Haven’t even touched you properly and you’re already too fucked out to speak?! Tell me what you want..” He scolds in a degrading, it’s so mean and debauched, like he’s looking down on you for not being able to contain yourself and the feelings that this new drug gives you. But fuck, it just makes your cunt throb.

“P-please, wanna feel you. ‘S not fair, I don’t have a shirt on.” You say, defiantly, hands pulling at the hem of his shirt. He scoffs, as cock-drunk as you seem and as fucked out as the drugs make you- you’re still your firey self, always talking back.

“When have you ever seen me play fair.” He says with a laugh, quirking up an eyebrow- he was right up until the cash he brought you tonight he would play you out new beats despite the many he had yet to pay you for. His hands reach down and capture your hands, both wrists engulfed by his tattooed hand. “I’ll humor you this one time since you’re so desperate…” he says with a chuckle, releasing your hands and pulling his shirt over his head.

He was toned, well built, a brick of a man really. His baggy jeans hung low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers visible. A truly delicious sight. You stand there, stunned and mouth agape, eyes trailing to the defined ‘V’ of his hips. At the visual in front of you your body seems to become even hotter than before- your face flushing pink, your thighs rubbing together and your pussy practically weeping.

He pulls you back into him, your tits pressed against his bare chest, mewling at the warm sensation that envelopes your nipples. You two meet in a mess of tongue and lips again, his tongue immediately entering into your mouth, spinning around yours in a sloppy dance. One of his hands slips between the two of you, maneuvering under your sweatpants and panties, immediately petting at your sopping pussy.

At his touch you both moan into each other’s mouth’s. You nearly sob out when his finger parts your folds, collecting your thick wetness on his fingers- brushing over your clit. He can help but growl into the kiss feeling just how wet you are, it makes something primal in him snap.

He’s spinning you around and pushing you onto the couch he was on when he first arrived. It has you crying out in surprise as you land on the leather. He’s wasting no time, gripping at the waistband of your pants and panties, pulling them down and off your legs.

You feel so bare and vulnerable in front of him. Shirt and bra long gone, legs spread and pussy on display for him as he looms over you still in his jeans. He’s dropping to his knees, hands gripping at your ankles to force your heels up onto the couch. It surges you forward, allowing him to place his large hands on the backs of your thighs and push them back.

He observes your cunt with a wicked devilish gaze. You’re already red and puffy, so worked up and he had only barely started. Your arousal is a mess between the back of your thighs, dripping down your ass. He thinks he’s in heaven.

“Such a fuckin’ slut…” he muses, hands sliding down your thighs, thumbs moving to spread you nice n’ wide for him. “Already so sloppy just from a little pill and groping.” He says, his voice degrading as he emphasizes his words by rubbing his thumbs up the sides of your pussy, meeting at your clit before circling back down to spread you open.

Even this is almost too much, your face is flushed, hand over your mouth as you try to keep yourself for sobbing out in pleasure at such little stimulation, and thighs already threatening to close, twitching back against his hands. “Oh no, sweetheart…” he says, sitting up a little, hovering over you as he forces your legs open and back, your knees touching the back of the couch where your back rests, “None of that. You wanted to act all big n bad and take that pill, you wanted to tease me and work me up by yelling at me, so you’re gonna take whatever I fuckin’ give you….”

You’re about to retort, tell him you yelled at him because he pissed you off but you’re cut off by his tongue flattening against your pussy, licking a long slow stripe up to your clit. He stops, bringing his tongue into his mouth and fully tasting you.

You don’t know how, but his pupils seem to dilate even more, a low chuckle coming from his throat. “Now I knew you had to have good pussy….” He drawls on, leaning back in to your cunt to repeat the same action, this time making an obscene slurping sound- collecting as much as your arousal as he can before pulling away and swallowing. “But this sweet cunt…even better than what I could have imagined all those times I’ve beat my dick to the thought of fucking you on my tongue.”

There he goes, rambling on in the most raunchy way he can. You can hardly wrap your mind around the pleasure you’re feeling now, the situation you’ve found yourself in- let alone the idea that he seemed to have masturbated frequently to multiple ideas of you.

He’s back on your cunt, tongue dancing through your folds. And he’s messy. It’s a crazed, hungry effort that seems to have no real rhythm. You’re embarrassed by the wet, slurping sounds that come as he eats you like a man starved. His eyes are closed and he’s shaking his head into your pussy like a dog, literally bathing in the syrupy juices that continually flow out of your pussy.

Your hand reaches down, gripping at his purple hair, hips grinding down, trying to chase his tongue with your throbbling clit anytime he slips it back down to your weeping hole. His eyes dart open and the view of him, cat like eyes peering at you through thick lashes, mouth buried in your messy cunt. You moan out what you want to be his name, but it comes out as babbled breathy syllables.

He fights your grip, pulling back with an evil grin. His mouth and chin are covered in your arousal as he stares down at you, “What you want more? ‘S not enough for your needy cunt is it?” He hums, his tattooed fingers coming up to play with your pussy.

He’s just running his fingers through your folds, smearing the creamy liquid that gushes out of your cunt, grin widening as he watches white sticky webs collect between your folds, pulling apart anytime he plays with your pussy. “‘S not enough, I know it isn’t…you need more don’t you….practically cryin f’me.”

Your eyes widen, one finger circling your entrance, collecting a drop of your arousal before bringing it up to his lips. He makes a show of licking it up. It’s when it hits you- he’s not even taking to you. He’s talking to your pussy. The realization making you writhe and whimper, hips twitching trying to find any sort of stimulation.

“Poor thing….so neglected. Probably have had a good fuckinf’ in a long while, hm?” He coos at your cunt, lowering his face back to be level with your shining entrance. “S’okay Thanos will help you out….” He mumbles, placing a kiss to your clit. His arms wrap around your thigh, dragging you impossibly closer to his mouth.

You hate that he’s right, it’s been so long since you’ve been with anyone let alone been fucked on some sex enhancing pill that also has you high out of your mind. It only just makes you so much more receptive to his touches- like you haven’t been touched in a millennia. Like his touches are that of pure bliss, a tangible heavenly experience that will definitely ruin you for any other man who try’s to get with you.

It’s so much at once. It has you seeing colors you didn’t even think existed. You can’t even think straight, only babbling out praises like he’s your savior. His tongue is all over you, working up to flick lightly at your clot before wrapping his soft lips around it, sucking into his mouth. You can feel yourself dirty the leather of the couch under you, the wetness pooling under your thighs and ass.

He moans into your cunt, pulling away to stare at your raw pussy, licking his lips clean of your taste. Then he’s spitting directly on your clit, the warm saliva hitting your cunt in a messy spatter that leaves a warm hot trail anywhere it touches. It is so fucking filthy, scratching desires in you that you never knew you had. It has you crying out a babbled string of pleas for him to put his mouth back on you.

He laughs, taking in your needy state, pussy covered in his saliva, puffy and red, begging for more. His tongue delves back into you. It’s a viscous onslaught of licks and sucks that has you convulsing and creaming around his tongue.

His tongue makes its way down to your sopping hole, circling your entrance before thrusting itself into your walls. It’s a heavenly feeling, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull and your back arching up off the couch.

His tongue fucked you ravenously, like you were the last meal he’d ever consume. His fingers are squeezing your thighs so hard you know there’s going to be circle shaped bruises once he removes his hands.

“Oh god..” you whine out, it’s a pathetic shuddering sound that only makes him laugh against your cunt, your moans and words only making him pull you down onto him. He’s so fucking messy. It’s something straight out of a porno, you’re sure of it. He’d pull back every so often to spit in your cunt to only go right back to fucking his tongue into your walls- drinking up his spit and every bit of your creamy arousal.

It’s so good. Too good. You want to push off the blooming heat that begins to swell deep in your cunt, to drag this out, but you can’t. You’re sitting up, hands trying to dig into the leather couch, trying to ground yourself.

You’re moaning out pathetic pleas of “‘s too much” and “more, more, more”. Your cunt is erratically spasming against his fingers, you know you’re getting close.

“Gonna cum all over my face, huh girlie?” He muses up at you, words muffled against your pussy. His fingers don’t let up, curling up into your tight walls with fervor. You’re gushing around him, anytime his fingers push into you they come out covered by even more of your thick arousal. “Want you to make a mess f’me.” He continues on.

You nod, biting your lip and entangling your fingers into his hair. “OhmygodOhmygod-“ your voice comes out in a high pitched mess of words, shaking against his tongue. The feeling of your orgasm beginning to build inside you is almost too much. It’s never felt like this, it’s an almost violent insatiable itch, one you’re chasing even though you feel so sensitive to the point it almost hurts. You’re almost scared of the orgasm that’s building up in you.

“Yeahhhh…that’s it’s, you got it sweet thing.” His words seep into your ears like the sweetest melody, “Needa have you cummin’ on my face.” He says, almost begging for you to allow him such an honor. His words spur you in to not shying away from the feeling. All you can think of is how badly you want to cum and how badly you want to please him.

His fingers rapidly pump in and out of you, every motion beginning to let off a wet sloshing sound. You sob out, looking down to watch on as his tongue flicks over your clit and fingers slam into your cunt. “H-holy fuck I’m g-gonna… oh fuck…I’m gonna cum!” You cry out.

You hear a growl in response from the man between your thighs, a low primal, no, a feral sound that vibrates off your clit. It sends you over the edge, your hurled to your orgasm before you can even realize it.

It has you seeing starts, sobbing out a mix of his name and obscenity’s as you cum. And you cum hard. You can hear it gush out of you like a fountain, soaking his face and chest. The slurping sounds he’s been making only becoming louder, like he’s drinking glacier water after being stuck in a desert.

Your head falls back onto the back of the couch, your hand forcing his head still with a strength that surprises not you and him. Your hips grind in helpless jerking motions as you continue to cum, his fingers stroking your walls and beckoning every last drop of your cum out of you.

He pulls back slowly, fingers pulling out of you, his breath coming out in heavy pants. You come back down, breath still catching in your throat as you try to regain your breath. Your eyes open to finally see the extent of the mess you made.

His chest, chin and mouth is covered in your glistening arousal. He’s sucking your cum off his fingers and just staring at you with a shit eating grin. “I-I just…” your voice trails off, genuinely surprised at what just transpired. It has never happened before.

“Squirted?” He finishes your sentence while he pops his fingers out of his mouth. “Yeah, I know princess.” He says in a low mocking tone as he leans over you, pulling you into a kiss. It’s slow, methodical, he’s making sure you taste yourself.

He pulls away, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you. He collects it with his thumb, puts his digit to your lips and nods approvingly as you take it into your mouth. “You oughta get used to it. Gonna be happening a lot with me.” He mused.

In a quick motion his thumb is pull from your lips. He’s standing back, eyes trained on your fucked out form as he begins to remove his pants. He kicks them off into the corner of your studio, his boxers soon following.

When you finally see the cock that was causing the huge tent in his pants, you’re at a loss for words. He’s girthy, long, and he’s got a mean upwards curve. It stands attention, pre-cum leaking from the fat cock-head. He moves his hand across your pussy quickly, the motion making your body jolt. His hand then wraps around his length, twisting his wrist up and down his dick with the help of your cum.

He’s sitting down next to you on the couch, reaching over and pulling your limp form onto his lap, his fist still working around his dick.

“Haven’t broken you completely have I?” He mocks, staring on as you watch his fist squeeze his angry red tip before moving down his shaft. Even though you know you’re overly sensitive, all you can think about is how his cock would feel deep inside you. “N-no, ‘m not broken, want your cock inside me s’bad.” Your words are slurred, you can’t even believe the sentence you said- usually you’d have more shame.

But fuck did that little pill he gave you have your body already working itself up, cunt pulsing around nothing in anticipation for the fucking you were about to get. He lets out a low chuckle, his fist releasing his dick. It hits your stomach with a hefty ‘plap’ sound.

You look down, biting your lip when you see his cock resting against your stomach, the swollen tip resting just below your navel. You suck in a breath, relaxing just how deep he will be. “Gonna be able to take it, princess?” He mumbles, pressing a thumb against his cock, pushing it further against your stomach, the hot thick skin of his cock pressing into the flesh. “See how deep I’m gonna be?” He questions, eyes trained on his cock against your stomach, imagining what it’s going to feel like to be balls deep in your tight cunt.

You just nod in let out a hiccuped moan, canting your hips forward to try and brush your clit against the underside of his cock. “Imma take it…I can, I promise.” You pout, raising your hips the smallest bit and gripping the base of his thick length.

When your hand wraps around the length and your fingers don’t touch, you realize fully what you’re getting yourself into. “Go on then…you said you could take it.” He says, a shit eating grin on his face as he sees your concern in your face- how was he going to fit.

He shifts back on the couch, spreading his legs more and looking down at where you run his leaking cock head through your dripping folds. He bites his lip and lets out a muffled groan as he feels your wetness immediately begin soaking his length.

“Mhm…there you go.” He says, arms thrown languidly behind his head, watching you with dark eyes as you begin to sink down onto his cock. You cry out when his bulbous head slips past the tight ring of your cunt. His head throws itself back a sigh slipping past his lips as he feels your walls squeeze around him, enveloping his cock head in a warmth he never wants to leave.

“That was jus’ the tip, come on you can take more. Like you said you can take it all..and we’ve already gone over how lyin’s bad pretty girl.” He says using your own words against you, and that seems to spur you on, sinking deeper onto him.

You finally drop down, your hips connecting with his pelvis, his tip kissing your cervix. You let out a sob of his name. He lets out a porn worthy moan his hands immediately darting down to grip at your hips in a bruising strength, keeping you still.

He swears he might cum then and there. Being buried balls deep in your tight cunt, your arousal spilling out on his pelvis, it’s better than he could have imagined.

And he’s imagined it. More times than he can count.

“F-fuck you’re so god damn tight…” he hisses out, head dropping back forward so he can look at you. Your lips are dropped open, eyebrows upturned, eyes watering from just how full you feel. “O-oh my god…” you mumble out looking down to where you two connect.

It’s shameful how much your arousal has already dirtied his pelvis and your inner thighs with a milky white sheen. With the drugs in your system you can feel every inch of him in ways you didn’t even think was possible. Your hands are braced on the strong muscles of his abdomen, your breasts heaving with every shuddering breath you take as you try to accommodate his thick cock into your cunt.

“‘S big isn’t it?” He boasts, quirking up an eyebrow, a cat like grin on his face. The way you’re already fucked out he’s so composed makes you whine, nodding your head. When you finally move your hips the slightest bit and clench around him you’re rewarded with the sight of him breaking the slightest bit. He lets out a breathy sound, almost a choked whine. Hell, he’s also tripping ass on the same drugs you were- even if this isn’t his first time like you, it still has his nerves on fire. He can feel every clench and spasm of your pussy around his cock. Every drop of arousal that seeps out around him, he can feel it before it even comes out of you, feeling it swell in the depths of your cunt- being forced out by the intrusion of his thick length and trickling down the top of his cock, down the length of it, eventually dripping out along his pelvis.

“Your pussy feels s’good baby- fuck- c’mon get to work, use those hips” He says, looking at you with a hooded gaze, lip caught between his teeth- hands still resting behind his head. You take in a large breath, lifting up your hips only a bit. The drag of his cock along your walls is deliciously sinful. You know you’re fucked- figuratively and literally. No man is ever going to make you feel this good.

You repeat the motion, not even lifting half way up his dick before dropping back down. It’s so much. “Ohhh…” he hums in a low locking tone, “you can do so much better than that.” He growls, it’s harsh, you know it’s a demand.

You situate yourself better on his lap, leaning forward on him, arching your back, and placing your hands in the in the spaces his arms leave on either side of his head and resting them against the back of the couch.

When you begin to move your hips, this time guiding them expertly up and down the entire length of his cock it doesn’t take long until his hands come to grip at your ass. He’s growling, restraining himself from thrusting up into you and taking over- truly ruining your pussy.

His hands are splayed open-palmed on your ass, moving with the flesh that recoils anytime you connect back down onto his lap, his swollen cock-head kissing your cervix. “Fucking hell!” He laughs out, it’s laced with a frenzied growl- like this was he’s been waiting for all the years he’s known you.

He’s no stranger to looking at your ass. Watching as the flesh jiggles when you wear those thin pajama pants that you wore when he came to pay you late, watching as you bend over to fix some cord in your set up or even the one time he was at the same party you were- being graced with the visual of you shaking your ass playfully against one of your friends.

But this? Fuck this was so much better than watching you.

“Mhm…” he moans, nodding his head as you look at him in a fucked-out haze, a moaning mess as you continue to ride him. “This fucking ass…” he growls through gritted teeth, hands gripping the flesh in a rough grasp, “Always knew you’d know how to ride cock like a good whore.” He spits out, one of his hands coming into contact with your ass- a sharp sting that has you meaning out his name. “You know how many times I had to beat my shit to the visual of your ass bouncing against me like this?”

His words are filthy. Raunchy. You’re sure if he kept talking you could cum right now. You surge forward, capturing his lips in yours. He swallows each of your moans greedily-lips messily moving with yours. Your tongue dance in a sloppy manner that has spit trailing down your tongue.

You continue to bounce on his cock, crying out into his mouth. Anytime you lift your hips up there’s a wet, sticky sound that resonates throughout your music studio. He pulls away from the kiss, his hands coming up to hold your face, keeping your face close by his. His eyes flutter close and a shuddering breath comes out of his lips as he feels your ass bounce against him more fervently now that his hands aren’t holding the plump flesh in place. He opens his eyes, letting out a low growl, his hands gripping your face, tighten the slightest bit. “Fuckin’ look at you…taking all of me…’s fuckin’ deep isn’t it?” He chides, it’s a degrading mocking tone that has your eyebrows turning up as you nod.

“Mhm s-so fuckin’ deep ohmygoddd.” You cry out in response, leaning back the slightest bit and reaching your arms behind you, placing your hands on his knees as you continue to fuck yourself on his cock. He bites his lip, eyes trained on where you two connect. Watching with blown out pupils how your cunt continuously gushes around him, adding to the white ring that’s forming at the base of his cock.

“So fuckin messy…” he coos, one of his hands coming down to rub his thumb across your clit. You let out a high pitched sound- almost like a squeak- at the sudden added stimulation. “Ohhh…” he groans, his thumb circling your puffy clit, “…that was a cute sound.” he growls in praise. His thumb and pointer finger begin to rub up and down the edges of your cunt, tracing the outline of where his cock is splitting you open.

You continue to raise and lower your hips, circling them and spearing yourself on his thick cock. “‘M stretchin’ you out baby…” he hisses, the image he’s one he swears is the most beautiful sight he’s seen- your cunt gaped obscenely wide, squeezing his dick, leaking more and more creamy arousal everytime you drop your hips onto his lap.

You feel your thighs ache, but the way his cock effortlessly hits your g-spot each time you slam down has you continuing your motions, letting out pathetic whines in protest. He chuckles, his hand that’s still resting behind his head comes down to smack your ass.

You moan out, falling forward on his chest, your hips gyrating desperately. “Oh c’mon, can’t do it no more? I gotta do everything for you?” He says in a degrading, mocking tone. Both his hands find purchase on your ass, gripping and massaging the flesh. You whine and writhe against him, making feeble attempts to keep riding him- but your thighs just ached too much and he was making you feel so full.

“P-please…” you whine out, your head in the crook of his neck, breath fanning the skin, every moan and whine right under his ear. “Awhhh now you’re begging?!” He says with a chuckle, beginning to bounce his legs, it’s not enough but it bullies his pulsating cock further into you. “Not even ridin’ me that long sweetheart…I’m gonna fucking ruin you..” he says, laughing at how fucked stupid you already were.

“F-fuuuck” you moan out in a sinful song as you twitch against him, “you’re so big, it’s so much…” you babble against his flesh.

He hums, his hands on your ass beginning to guide your hips up and down his cock, a sob wracks through your esophagus as you’re closer to what you finally need, “And yet here you are…” he growls, “creaming all over my cock and taking it.” He says beginning to thrust upwards into the warm velvety walls of your cunt. “S’not too much” he says, thrusting up hard into you, it makes a raunchy squelching sound, pushing more of your syrupy arousal onto his pelvis “…you can take it, you’re a big girl.” He says, every word is punctuated by a thrust and echoed by the sound of his balls slapping against your ass.

You cry out, your hands raking across his shoulders leaving blooming red stripes in their wake. You can hear him growling, it’s a primal low rumble that reverberates through his chest as he fucks up into you. It’s a brutal, rough pace that continues to speed up with each thrust.

You let out a surprised squeak when he grips your ass harder and stands up. Your legs are thrown over his shoulders his hands holding you up by your ass. His hands lifting you up and dropping you down on his cock like you’re a ragdoll.

It makes his dick reach places you never thought would have been possible. You’re completely speared on his cock, your sopping wet cunt only aiding him in dragging you along his veiny length.

“Fuck!” You cry out pathetically, tears beginning to water in your eyes, it felt so. fucking. good. “Mhmmm…” he says biting his lip and nodding, “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” He says with a chuckle. The deep thrust of his cock and his words are brutal. Mean.

“And you’re gonna let me…cause you love it.” He hisses, hands never letting up on splitting you on his cock. Your face tells him all he needs to know, your eyebrows are turned up, your lips parted and tongue lolled out, drooling down your chin. “Yeaaahhhh you do…” he coos, mockingly.

His cock bullies its way into your cunt, pushing past your sparking walls to kiss your cervix with the head of his cock. “You’re fucking squeezing me sweetheart..” he chokes out, “pussy’s fuckin addicting.” He adds, looking down to watch how your cunt slides up and down his cock, leaving streaks of milky white arousal arcross the expanse of his girth.

“Messy fuckin’ cunt, just fuckin creamin all over me.” He babbles, you can tell with the way his thrusts were speeding up, slamming you down even harder, that he was close to cumming. And you were too.

“Want you to squirt on my cock..make more of a mess f’me. You can do that, yeah?” He growls, looking back up to you and you nod furiously, “mhm, please- oh my god- ‘m so close.” You whine out, words cut off by heaving cries.

“Touch yourself.” He orders, “let me see how you play with yourself.” You obey, a shaky hand releasing itself from his shoulder to rub circles on your clit. Your fingers slip lower, feeling just how much he has you stretched out before returning up to your clit.

Your fingers draw figure eights, working in sporadic movements to push you further to the edge. You look up at him through lashes that were clumped with tears. You feel like you’re floating, it’s such a delicious pleasure that you know you’ll dream of for days to come.

“C’mon princess…” he growls, hands slamming you down brutally as his hips thrust up. Every movement makes a raunchy sticky sound, anytime he drives his cock deep inside you it makes the same wet sloshing sound as before- you’re so close. “Cum f’me, princess, wet my cock.” He growls, his thrusts becoming sloppy, impaling you down onto his dick.

“Fuck ‘m gonna…” your breath is heaving “I’m gonna cum,ohmygodfuckfuck!!” You scream out, fingers swirling over your clit in rapid movements to drive you over the edge. A sob wracks through your body and with a silent cry of his name you cum.

It’s a violent gush of clear liquid, spraying out of your cunt and flowing down his cock, covering his pelvis and even dripping onto the carpeted floor. When he feels it, head snapping down to watch your cum flow out of you, your hand still moving frantically against your clit and spraying your cum around- he breaks.

He cums deep inside you. You can feel every thick rope paint your insides. You both let out strangled moans, the feeling of cumming deep inside your warm cunt is a heavenly feeling that has Choi Su-bong’s eyes rolling into the back of his head.

He thrusts you two lazily through your orgasms, each push of his cock into your cunt forces globs of his cum out and around his length. He slows to a hault, his hands moving up to wrap around your back pulling you flush to his chest.

He slowly backs up and when the back of his knees hit your couch, he sits back down. You both moan at the movement, his softening dick thrusting back up into your over sensitive pussy. “Shhh I know…” he says, shushing you, hands reaching up to brush back your messy hair.

“Did so good f’me.” He coos, smiling up at you. You’re still in a haze, leaning into his hands and nodding. “Fucked you stupid, did I? You can still speak can’t you?” He jokes, you laugh, swatting weakly at his chest. “Made me squirt twice…and I didn’t even know I could do that…so yeah I’m a lil tired, sue me.” You bite back playfully.

He lets out a loud laugh, hands dropping down to your hips. “There she is….there’s the bratty lil producer I know.” He says with a grin, you roll your eyes in response. “Well we’re gonna see if we can make it at least 6 times.”

Your eyes shoot open, “W-what?!” You asked incredulously. He smirks hands beginning to massage your hips.

“Another thing about that lil pill I gave you…” he says, his eyes looking down to where you two meet, it’s a mess of his and your cum, a delicious sight, “it also helps with stamina.” He says, his thumb brushing over your clit.

And you realize he’s right, with that one touch your body is ignited again, your hips starting grind against him- proving he’s right. You’re ready to go again.

This was gonna be a long night.

hiiiii lovelies!! I hope you enjoyed this lil one-shot. I literally just had my mind FIXATED on gettin’ fucked up and fucked by this man 😩

ALSO I MADE IT TO 100 FOLLOWERS?!!! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!? I’m off work for the week soon and I have some really exciting plans coming up as a thanks for 100 friends!!! 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[nathaslosthershit]

The Café Boy (LN4)

Summary: The move to Monaco for your new job wasn't going to be easy, even if you had your best friend by your side, but maybe the cute boy you met in a café can turn your luck around.

Moving to Monaco was certainly not on your bucket list. But getting hired as a Director of Brand Communications with an impressive salary, called for the move. Luckily, being best friends with an influencer with far too much money than she was able to spend meant that Annie was happy to move to another country to rent together. You were forever grateful for her, even though it wasn’t like you were forcibly dragging her to the tundra, instead you were offering to rent together in one of the most lustrous countries in the world, but you still felt like you had dragged her there. 

The move had been different for both of you. Annie, being the extrovert with a large following, made friends as easy as breathing, while you just focused your energy on your new job. You didn’t really feel the need to branch out when you had Annie. 

“This is ridiculous! You can’t keep spending your days working or moving furniture around for the 1,000th time.” Annie huffs when she enters the apartment and sees you on your computer working, just as you were when she left you 5 hours ago.

“It's hard trying to acclimate into this new job, plus I came at a busy time because they are trying to sponsor another company. I have been emailing back and forth with them to get a good idea if this is the right fit but the CEO has been so flaky that it's been hard to get through. Plus we have rearranged meeting dates like 6 times. It's ridiculous.” You rambled as you rubbed your eyes, realizing in that moment just how tired you are. 

“Nope, we aren’t doing this. I get that this is mostly remote so your hours work differently and you are trying to find your footing but I am not allowing you to work yourself to death. You are coming out with me and we are going to be social.”

“Annie, please-”

“No! I love you so much and think you are the most wonderful person in the world and that anyone would be lucky to be around so I won’t allow you to self sabotage because you don’t think the same about yourself. Come on, pack it up.” Annie commands.

Giving in, she forced you to shower and get dressed, two things you were certainly in need of doing. Not telling you where you two were going, she dragged you out of the house. Not that you would know anyway, in the time you had been here you hadn’t gone out much. 

Turns out, while she was forcing you out of the comfort of your own home, Annie knew and loved you enough to drag you to a sweet little café where the two of you could drink and chat instead of torturing you with activities that were more her speed. Seeing as the café was pretty full, you both had no choice but to snag the four person table that hadn’t even been cleared yet in order to get seating. Having two extra seats you didn’t need made you nervous, knowing that anyone could sit down next to you both at any time, but Annie paid no mind. You both had been there for 45 minutes, giggling and catching up, mostly talking about all the exciting things Annie has been doing while you have been working. But it didn’t make you feel bad to know she was meeting all these new people and going out to have fun because you knew the minute you asked her to hang out with you, or even invite you out, she would be happy to oblige. It wasn’t until you both were interrupted by a man clearing his throat that you stopped talking.

“Mind if we sit down? We won’t be here long, just wanted to grab a cup of coffee.” A man with curly brown hair said, gesturing to him and his friend. 

God, was he attractive, like stupidly attractive.

Which made it all the worse when you just starred, mouthing words but incapable of making sound come out.

Seeing you having a hard time, Annie came to your rescue, but not without shooting you a look that said ‘we are going to talk about this later’. 

“Of course! We are almost done anyway.”

“No need to rush out, we’d be happy to share in the meantime.” he replied to Annie, but he wasn’t looking at her, instead looking you up and down. Was he sizing you up or admiring?

The pair of boys made polite conversation with Annie, who was always happy and more than able to make friends with anyone. The man who sat down next to you tried to start conversations with you, god he really tried, but you were too nervous to say more than a few words, no matter how many times Annie kicked you under the table. 

After they grabbed their to-go cups, Annie, who had noticed the blush that had decorated your face since the moment they came up to you, invited them to sit with you guys for a while.

This time you kicked her under the table.

You loved her, you really did, but she loved to meddle. Even though it was never with malicious intent, she had explained that it just ‘pained her to see someone as wonderful and amazing as you remain a wallflower’. How could you get mad at her for that?

Right now, you were mad at her for that. 

“Well, you know my best friend over here is the whole reason we moved.” Annie said, in the middle of a conversation you hadn’t been listening to. “Got a fancy new job as a brand director or something… I always forget what it's called.” She says as she hits your arm. She knew what your job was, she loved to brag about how amazingly professional you were to her amazingly unprofessional influencer friends. She was trying to get you involved in the conversation. “Uh- director of brand communications.” You quickly said. All three people waited for you to say more, but you didn’t bite. 

“Ah, well maybe you should come work for my team, we could use uh… brand communicating.” The boy next to you said, his friend kicking him under the table. Even you could tell it was a poor excuse for flirting. 

“And what team do you work fo-” Annie began to ask, interrupted by a customer bumping into your table, knocking over the coffee the cute guy next to you had in front of him. 

It spilt all over his lap. 

You felt bad as you quickly moved away with a gasp, but it was really hot. You could tell it was worse than the few droplets you felt when the curly haired brunette let out a pained groan. 

“Fuck, mate. Let's get you to the bathroom,” His friend said as the two quickly excused themselves. 

Even though you hadn’t spoken much, you were bummed they had to leave, even more so when Annie said you two should head out, having stayed there way longer than planned. 

Not knowing what had come over you, you grabbed a pen from your bag and quickly scribbled your name onto the now empty cup. He probably wouldn’t see it before he threw it out, or maybe he would see and not want to call. But hey, you had come there to try new things, so you might as well try those new things.

Annie waited by the entrance with a knowing smile, excitedly babbling how she was so proud of you for doing such a thing. 

You remained pessimistic over your chances, but you wouldn’t dampen your friend’s mood. 

He didn’t call or text. 

Even your pessimism wasn’t enough to save you from embarrassment, or hurt. Maybe he wasn’t flirting? Maybe he was just being nice? Or maybe he was an asshole who got off on playing with girls’ feelings. Maybe he kept the cup as a trophy so he and his friends could laugh at it and talk about how much of an idiot you were-

“Hey, I can practically hear all the negative thoughts running through that mind of yours.” Annie said, poking your forehead. “Come on, this is a fun and exciting day and we aren’t going to let one idiot man ruin it.”

“Annie, this is for work. I am working. You are here as my plus one, so by proxy you are also working.” You said, trying to stop her skipping down the paddock. 

It technically was work but also wasn’t. Your company had been in the talks with Mclaren for a while now and the deal was practically complete. All that was needed today was for you to ‘supervise race day environment’ to make sure it was ‘up to company standards’, which was just a load of shit they used to give themselves more time to look at data. By data, you mean that if Mclaren does well today and looks promising to have a good season thus making your company a ton of money, then the deal is on. If not, it would be a cool experience to see how the teams work behind the scenes. 

Too bad the sting of rejection was ruining it for you. 

Being in the garage though, the excitement as the engineers, strategists, mechanics, all got ready for the main event of the weekend, got your mind off the boy in the café for a while, till he walked right past you.

Not really past you, more like into you. 

Neither of you recognized the other at first, too busy balancing yourselves and apologizing to the other. Once your eyes met the same ones that had you in a bad mood for the past week, you turned around and walked as far from him as possible, ignoring the weird stares as he yelled for you to come back. 

At least Annie was amused by it. She practically doubled over with laughter.

“This is such a rom-com moment! Gosh, I am honestly kind of jealous.”

“I am not! It's motifying, Ann.” You say, hitting her on the arm as she continues to giggle. “Would it be wrong if I told my team that the ‘vibes in the garage were bad and there was no way they were going to have a good season’ regardless of results today?”

“Uh yeah, that's psychotic and way too over the top.”

“...fine, I'll just pray that they have the worst race results possible.” 

They didn’t have the worst race results possible. Not even close.

The Australian driver, Oscar Piastri, had come in third. You thought that had been a good place, but were surprised when the team was slightly disappointed, thinking they'd do better. Maybe they really were in for a good year if they were aiming as high as possible. 

Café asshole, also known as Lando Norris, came in second. 

You were trying to get out as soon as you could, thinking luck would be on your side and he'd be too busy to run into you again, or reject you again.

You were wrong.

The moment Annie saw him, standing by himself as he drank from his water bottle, cleaning the champagne from his face, she grabbed you and marched right up to him. You didn’t speak as she congratulated him, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes staring into you. 

“Fuck, its my sister. I have to take this, one second!” Annie said as she ran off.

You and Lando stood in silence watching her fake the phone call.

“Her phone didn’t ring,” He said.

“She doesn’t even have a sister,” you answered. This caused the two of you to laugh, luckily helping to ease the tension. 

“I um- I am actually glad you are here. I mean, what are the chances?” Lando said. 

He looked genuinely happy, like he hadn’t just rejected you.

As you remained silent, he began to get more nervous. 

“I just- I was upset to see the two of you gone after Max and I left the bathroom. I had been telling Max how I was going to get your number before the coffee spilt on me, but he said you didn’t seem interested. That became more clear when we saw you had left.”

Confused and a little scared of where he was going with this, you continued your silence. Was this some cruel joke?

“But you are here, and I was thinking that you know, this is my second chance. I know I rejected your best friend, and that is why you didn’t want to talk to me, but I started to really like you that day, and was hoping that I could get your number?” 

“What the fuck?” you said, not the best of responses, and certainly not a response Lando had ever gotten to asking a girl for her number. “What do you- what do you mean you rejected Annie?” 

“She… left her number on my cup. I am flattered, she seems like a great girl, but she isn’t really my type…” Realizing the entire miscommunication here, you shoved him, harder than you had intended. You would have felt bad if the ridiculousness of the situation hadn’t made you downright delirious, laughing hard as Lando stared at you in shock.

You tried to calm down, he must have thought you insane, but he started to laugh too even if he didn’t know what you were laughing at, your smile infectious to the Mclaren driver. 

“Lando, it was my number.” You said.

Now it was his turn to stare in confusion.

“What?” was all he replied.

“It was my number.” How much clearer could you get? 

“But- Max had said that you- but you didn't even- what?” He repeated. Then he rubbed his eyes in frustration, letting out a groan. “Max got in my fucking head about it and convinced me that you had no interest and I believed him against my better judgment. Fuck, I’m sorry. I wish I had just listened to myself instead of that idiot.” Even though he was mad, he too began to laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing was.

“Is it too late to get your number now?” He asked with more confidence than the first time.

“Fine, but you promise not to throw it out this time?” You teased.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, I’m not letting you go this time.” 

And you knew he meant it.  

[w0rmss]

sugar daddy!bruce and innocent reader?!?!? 😍

thank you so much for the request. Feel free to request more if you’d like.

Tw: suggestive age gap sugar daddy. Broke ass student reader.

enjoy

You didn’t really know what you were sighing up for when you signed up for a sugar Daddy website. All you knew you were broke there was fuck all jobs in Gotham never mind ones that paid well and weren’t involved in crime. And you were deep deep in the debt pit.

It was simply really signing up. Name age how older you’d go little bit about you. You got a few messages right away but they were mostly from guys who basically wanted to have sex with you pay you $50 once every week. That was until you matched with The Bruce Wayne.

He offered to pay for your rent your college give you fun money, all to take it at your pace. Naturally you jumped at the opportunity meeting him for coffee at a small expensive coffee shop in upper Gotham. The two of you chatted for a while getting to know each other. You told him how you’d never had a serious relationship before and had know idea what you were doing. The older man just smile and told you. “We can take it as slow as you need, promise.”

And so your time as Bruce Wayne’s sugar baby began. He took you on fancy dates shopping to galas. He didn’t ask much of you in return just to simply talk with him or lay with him whenever he had a minute. There were many nights he’d ask you to simply stay the night no sex no strings just stay. He’d disappear for hours coming up at 5 or 6 in the morning but he’d simply slide into bed kiss your temple and whisper. “Work stuff.” Before curling up next to you and drifting off.

After a while your simply cuddles evolved into make outs in his stud or bed. At your comfort of course. You found it sweet how he’d constantly check in on you, making sure he didnt accidentally go to far with a touch or a grind. It was nice. The feeling of his lips on yours his hands on your back as he held you. Leaning back in his chair groaning at a hard tug on his hair. You’d pull apart breathless lips swollen hair and clothes messy, and after recovering Bruce would simply go back to working on whatever he was before the moment of passion.

It was in one of these moments you decided you were ready to give him more. It had been months now and Bruce had been nothing but kind and patient with you. You also wanted it wanted to be with him in more than just make outs and touches. You were ready to fuck him.

Bruce was over you his lips on yours his arms by your head holding his large frame from crushing you. Slowly his lips moved from your lips to your neck. You’d pull let out a gasp and that is when you decide to go for it. “Im ready.” Your voice sounds breathless but you’re determined to give him what he craves. “I’m ready for us to have sex.” The black haired man stops his crusade on your neck. “Are you sure.” His voice horse from the kisses. “Yes im sure. I just have no idea what im doing.” Your voice sounds hold your head up trying not to let your nerves show. Bruce chuckles a small smirk growing on his lips. “Well we can fix that can we.”

Hope you enjoyed

feel free to reply repost request and like

stay safe

have a wonderful day night afternoon etc

[re-lmayer]

i've found myself in a bad situation. the tl;dr is i have to move, but i can't afford to. i'm a disabled student and just do not have the funds required to rent a truck, hire movers, and cover deposits. so, i'm offering various services on my kofi, but if you don't need those you can also donate there or via paypal. my cashapp and venmo are both erinshelley91 if you'd like to donate on those platforms (i couldn't figure out how to link to those)

if you can't afford to commission me or to donate, reblogging this post and sharing my twitter thread is a free way to help me out and is so appreciated!

more context and stuff under the cut, i just don't want to make a long post on ppl's dashboards

my landlord has been cheating on his husband, and their relationship is rocky. he also has a massive spending addiction according to his husband. his spending addiction is making him not want to perform the actual duties of a landlord, because investment costs are cutting into his shopping spree funds

ex, he is illegally not fixing a leak in the shower of the upstairs tenants, and claims the costs are more than their rent. he told them to "figure it out, or get the fuck out." (verbatim.) he also told me it would be cheaper for him to not have tenants at all bc his utility bills would be smaller. he then left it to ME to inform another tenant to leave (then gaslit me and denied it in front of his husband when his husband questioned it)

in his words, we have 90 days to leave. i am disabled and a full time student and have been living on my fafsa returns, and the last job i had made one of my disabilities worse to the point i've had intensive physical therapy (several hours several times a week) and am likely going to have to undergo surgery

i'm also mi/nd, so even on a good day i'm not very well equipped to handle things, and the recent stress has also caused my therapist to see me several times a week in lieu of institutionalization

all that said, i'm not in a good spot physically or mentally, hence the best i can do right now is offer some of my skills on kofi

i'm currently working with my state's vocational rehab to try and find a suitable job until i can get my degree, but even then i simply would not be able to afford the costs of a sudden move in the timeframe i've got to work with

UPDATE MARCH 25, 2024: i want to invest in a scooter to do gig work like doordash. this will let me work at my own pace, and earn towards the move myself, then i'll have some more independence to continue doing that after as well

they require 50cc or under, which means i could get a scooter for under $1,000. i'd also need to cover fees to renew my license (i let it lapse since i haven't had a vehicle), get a helmet, and get insurance (roughly $100 annually)

i also made some amazon wishlists for folks who would like to help but prefer to know exactly where their money's going. i have one for housewarming stuff here, and one for necessities here

update as of april 5: my cat peed on my bed, and since it's a memory foam mattress it soaked all the way through and ruined it

update as of april 7: she did it again. this time there's blood in it

update as of april 14: i still haven't been able to take her to the vet, but i've been trying to do at home remedies

[lakesparkles]

I finally finished the first chapter - I'm calling it prologue - of my college AU Thanos Team fanfiction.

For now, I'll post it here under the cut:

Prologue

.

.

.

Gyeong-su is sure he can change Nam-gyu's life

—

(NOTE: the first thing I want to do is apologize about Nam-gyu because he’s an asshole in this chapter)

 The room was still dark and Nam-gyu wasn't sure why he’d woken up. He mumbled softly, trying to go back to sleep and failing... For some reason. His mind was too groggy to think of anything in that situation.

 Only after a few seconds did he realize his cell phone was ringing, the music irritating his hearing and immediately stressing him out.

 "What is it!?" He complained in a slurred voice, as if the device could answer him. At the same time, he slammed his hand against the cabinet next to his bed, where he remembered leaving his cell phone charging. He needed to wait for his eyes to get used to the light so he could read the name on the screen:

 "Mom," was all it said.

 So he ignored it, suddenly more alert. Why would she even...?

 No. He wouldn't even think about it. It was way too early for that.

 When the phone went silent again, Nam-gyu closed his eyes and rolled over in bed, covering his head so he could fall asleep faster. Fuck it, he still had a few hours of sleep left, he wasn't going to lose them because of something like that.

 Or, apparently, he was wrong.

 Not even three minutes had passed when his ears picked up another noise. This time, coming from the bedroom door. Three quick knocks and then:

 "Nam-gyu. Nam-gyu? Can I come in? I'm going in, okay?"

 No sooner said than done, his door was opened completely. Nam-gyu growled, removing the blanket and sitting on the bed:

"What the hell... What time is it?" He asked, still reluctant and barely able to open his eyes due to the sudden light.

 "Uh... 5:15 am?" Gyeong-su asked more than answered, walking towards his bed.

Without saying a word, Nam-gyu laid down for the second time. But of course his friend didn't accept that, pulling his arm and continuing: 

 "No, no way! You agreed to this yesterday!"

 "I didn't-"

 "Of course you did! It was last night, man! There's no way you don't remember, get up!"

 "Today's Sunday!"

 "That's exactly why!"

 "Fuck you!"

That didn't work and, when he realized, Gyeong-su had already pulled him out of bed and placed him standing next to himself. The little shit was now smiling proudly, his hands resting on his waist:

 "I programmed an entire map for our route today. You'll like it, believe me! Did you know there's a forest behind that pharmacy? The one right behind the-"

 Nam-gyu got tired of hearing it, going straight out of the room. At least this time, Gyeong-su got the message and shut up, just following him down the narrow hallway. It was the least he could do, considering he was dragging Nam-gyu for a "morning walk" (he had called it that, not Nam-gyu).

 He walked straight to the bathroom, pausing at the door for just a second. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a movement in front of him: it was almost imperceptible, but he was sure it was Se-mi entering her own room, slamming the door shut. This irritated him, to say the least. Nam-gyu took a step back, getting closer to his friend:

 "Why did this bitch come to live here if she doesn't even have an ounce of manners?"

 "Hey, it's not nice to call-"

 "Shut up. Have you even talked to her? Does she ever leave her room?"

 "I thought you'd think that was a good thing," Gyeong-su shrugged, "so you don't have to look at her face."

 "Clever," Nam-gyu gave a rare compliment, closing the door behind him. As he went to the bathroom and returned to his room to change, he kept thinking about Se-mi.

 He and Gyeong-su had rented the apartment two months ago, which meant that neither of them really got used to it yet. Nam-gyu had known the other for years, but he wouldn't describe him as a close friend. It just so happened that they both needed to share a rent, and even then, they realized that their money wouldn't be enough anyway.

 In order to avoid having to move into a tiny, one-room place, they sacrificed one of the bedrooms in their current apartment and tried their luck. He would never imagine that a woman would offer to split the cost of the bills, but Se-mi was apparently desperate.

 Maybe. Nam-gyu knew very little about her.

 They went to the same university, were close in age, and that was where his knowledge about the woman ended. Se-mi didn't talk much, staying locked in her room during the rare moments she was home. It didn't take a genius to guess that this would never work out. He was surprised she hadn't given up since the beginning of the two weeks she'd been there.

 Yeah.

 Nam-gyu shook his head to clear his thoughts. He didn't even care that much about the bitch in the first place. She was a total jerk, that's what.

 So he focused on the closet in front of him, choosing a random black T-shirt and pulling it over his head. Once he was dressed, he fixed his hair with his hands and tucked a few strands behind his ears.

 Then he crossed the hallway for good, heading for the kitchen. As if on autopilot, he opened the door of the fridge and picked up a bottle of whiskey. His throat was dry, but before he could unscrew the cap, the bottle was taken from his hands.

 "Hey!" He exclaimed.

 "No, no, no!' Gyeong-su held it up high so he couldn't reach it, even though the other was struggling beside him. He hadn't even noticed him approaching. "You made me promise not to let you drink it for breakfast!"

 "I never said that!"

 "Yes, you did. Nam-gyu, it was last night!"

 "If I don't remember, it's clearly not what I really wanted."

 "You were in a really bad state, man. Cold sweat and everything. You looked me in the eyes and said, 'I can't live like this anymore, Gyeong-su, you need to change my life,' and that's what we're going to start doing from today!" He told everything with dramatic gestures, which indicated that that wasn't really what had truly happened.

 For some reason unknown even to him, Nam-gyu gave up.

"I promise" Gyeong-su ran after him after putting away the whiskey and grabbing a bottle of water in its place. "I will change your life!"

For both their sakes, Nam-gyu kept his opinion to himself.

---

 "Oh wait, man, I forgot my watch!"

 "Can't you just go without it?" As soon as Nam-gyu finished his sentence, Gyeong-su had already run into the apartment once again.

 They hadn't even been out for 30 seconds.

 With a sigh, he leaned against the wall, taking advantage of the free time to light a cigarette and place it between his lips. His vision was a little blurry as he looked through the small window on the other side of the hallway. It was a simple view, just a tree branch moving with the wind. Maybe it was slightly colder outside.

 Whatever. His head hurt, it felt like it was about to explode.

 Had he really talked about all that with Gyeong-su last night?

 He tried his best to clear his memories, but all he remembered was the two of them sitting on the couch. It didn't seem like a serious conversation, his mouth even hurt from laughing so much at that time. Was Se-mi there? Somehow, she was there. Maybe to tell them to shut up. Or... Did she stay longer? Did she talk to both of them? No, it couldn't be. Se-mi had never acted like that before.

 He was probably making a funny face as he tried to remember. When he came back to reality, he realized that someone was staring at him.

 "What is it?" Nam-gyu asked, raising his chin, trying to look intimidating even though he wasn't very successful.

 The boy in front of him straightened his posture as if he’d been startled.

He never saw him there before. He was short and wore a navy blue sweater. If that wasn't enough, he had a kind of pathetic look, as if he was about to faint.

 Nam-gyu just took a drag on his cigarette, pretending to ignore him.

 "Eh..." The other man spoke in a low voice, however, after a few seconds. "Do you know where apartment 75 is?"

 "No," Nam-gyu replied with a small smile.

 "Do you live here? In the building, I mean. It's just that I'm new and I forgot..."

 "Did you forget where your own apartment is? Seriously?"

 "I've never been here in person, this is the first day I've..."

 With each passing second, Nam-gyu found it more amusing, without even trying to hide it. As soon as he pushed himself off the wall, he pointed to the number on the door right next to him: 75.

 "Have you thought about taking a vision test? " He asked the boy, still in a good mood.

 The other didn't share the same feeling, mumbling an apology under his breath and unlocking the apartment to go in. Why had he even apologized to him?

 Weird guy.

 He'd been distracted by that for so long that only then did he notice how Gyeong-su hadn't come back yet. Nam-gyu peeked inside his own dark apartment, part of him barely able to resist the urge to just run away and come back there only at night, when his friend already forgot all that nonsense.

 He regretted not having followed through with the plan as soon as Gyeong-su appeared in his sight, straightening the watch on his wrist and letting out an exclamation:

 "Hey, no, no!" He wasted no time in trying to take the cigarette from Nam-gyu's hand. "That counts too, you made me promise not to let you smoke in the morning as well!"

 Nam-gyu elbowed him lightly, making it clear how he didn't care. So much so that he soon changed the subject:

 "What took you so long? Were you chatting with the bitch?"

 Gyeong-su gave him a reprimanding look as soon as the two began walking down the hallway. With that alone, Nam-gyu knew he’d hit the nail on the head.

 "She’d just woken up," Gyeong-su admitted. "She wanted to know how the TV remote worked, can you believe it?"

 "So she talks to you," Nam-gyu raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised and a little betrayed. Gyeong-su didn't say a word, just sighed. The two reached the top of the stairs at the end of the hallway, Nam-gyu taking the lead to go down two steps at a time. Now that he wasn't facing the other, it was easier to ignore the discomfort and finally ask:

 "I talked to her yesterday too, didn't I?"

 "You really don't remember anything?" Gyeong-su followed closely behind him, dragging his entire arm along the railing.

 "I remember some things," Nam-guy raised his chin, half telling the truth, half lying. "We laughed for a long time."

 "Yeah! Because of you, man!"

 "Oh yeah..?"

 The two finished the two flights of stairs, arriving at the first floor. Gyeong-su was distracted for a few seconds, checking if there was any new mail for their apartment and realizing that the mailbox was empty. Shrugging, he walked back to Nam-gyu's side so they could leave the building. "You told me a lot of things! Like that time a guy at the club almost got you fired because he mistook you for someone else."

 "I told Se-mi that!?" This time, he didn't even think to hide his shock. Gyeong-su found it all very funny. He put his hand in front of his mouth to laugh lightly.

 Wait.

 "You're making it all up! That's it, isn't it?" Nam-gyu started to get suspicious, hating how he felt slightly embarrassed now.

 "Of course not! All of this happened for real, you can ask Se-mi."

 Then Nam-gyu realized it was better to concentrate on his cigarette, walking quickly and straightening his hair once more. The actual best thing would be to stop thinking about it. Either way, he knew he wouldn't be able to remember everything. So who cared?

 He looked around, trying to distract himself. There were only trees, buildings and houses, nothing too impressive. The wind blew hard against the branches. It wasn't necessarily cold, but he was starting to regret not having put on a coat. Maybe he should go back and get one, it wasn't like he was that far from the apartment. And he always felt more comfortable when he wore long coats, in the first place. Not that he has any insecurities about his arms, of course. And he would never feel comfortable having a conversation like that with someone he barely knew, especially with... Her.

 God, he was really bad at that.

 Why couldn't he stop thinking about that bitch?

 He let out a loud groan, making Gyeong-su jump in fright:

 "What the fuck are we doing out here!?" He spoke louder than he should've, letting out all the frustrations he was feeling since he woke up.

 Gyeong-su stared at him at first, with his eyebrows raised and his eyes slightly wide. He received that same look countless times before, and Nam-gyu didn't appreciate it. He knew it was his friend's silent way of saying he was worried about him. As if Nam-gyu were just a lost puppy.

 "I already told you," Gyeong-su began, in that slow and serious tone, speaking as if Nam-gyu was too dumb to understand simple sentences. "You told us some stories and then out of nowhere you complained about how shitty your life is."

 "I didn't do that."

 "Nam-gyu! Same thing again? You did! You spent like two minutes straight just talking about how the lowest point was having to share an apartment with people like us. We were pissed! You belittled my work-"

 "Rightly so. What work?" Nam-gyu rolled his eyes.

 "Hey! And Se-mi too, especially her. You said that she only didn't have a decent life because she was a disgusting prostitute who wasn't even good enough to get clients to rent a small studio apartment."

 "Okay, I believe that part."

 Gyeong-su rolled his eyes, but smiled slightly:

 "Why are you like that with her? Only with her? Did she do something to you?"

 "Yes," no.

 "What?"

Nam-gyu didn't feel like answering, so he didn't.

---

Nam-gyu had no idea what he was expecting. He felt like an idiot once he realized that part of him almost wished Gyeong-su was right. That they would leave the apartment, walk around and something would suddenly change. He woke up with that weird weight on his chest, and that made it hard to concentrate on anything else. His head was also throbbing and he would occasionally sip from the bottle of water that Gyeong-su carried in the side pocket of his backpack. Both of those things, however, could easily be explained by the hangover. He was more used to waking up like that than not, that almost becoming his usual.

 But the weird feeling on his chest? That was rarer. Or at least it used to be. Until he moved to this apartment. However, once again, he was starting to get used to it.

 Shit. He shook his head and looked up. Then at Gyeong-su.

 "Look, look!" His friend skipped ahead of him and pointed down the ravine they were walking on at that moment. "You can see our building from here!'

  "Wow." Nam-gyu said sarcastically.

 Gyeong-su lowered his head, still smiling a little:

 "Can you at least pretend to be having a little fun? I'm feeling a little bad now."

 Nam-gyu opened his mouth, ready to give any answer that would make him shut up again. Why he didn't, was a mystery even to him. For a second, he sighed softly. Maybe it was because of the isolated environment, far from anyone else who could hear him. Maybe it was because, besides Gyeong-su, he had no one else to comment on that matter.

All he knew was that the words that came out of his mouth were:

 "My mother called me this morning."

 Gyeong-su's entire posture changed. He lowered his shoulders, becoming more serious despite grunting an "uhhhh", waving one of his hands in the air.

 As Nam-gyu already said, he and Gyeong-su had never been very close. They barely knew about each other's personal tastes or how they lived before that shared house. All Nam-gyu knew about his new friend was about the stupid games he played live for a bunch of idiots who donated money to him. And all Gyeong-su knew about him, apparently, was about his mother.

 "What the hell, man," He tried to comfort Nam-gyu, placing his free hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it...?"

 "With you? Obviously not!" Then Nam-gyu returned to his normal behavior, rolling his eyes. He was almost offended that the other even considered that possibility.

 To keep the uncomfortable conversation from going on, he started walking again. The entire path in front of him consisted of the same thing: trees. He only knew where to go because of the thin, straight path beneath his feet, probably formed by the amount of people who preferred to take shortcuts there rather than walk through the buildings and convenience stores.

 The sun escaped through the yellow leaves, and now it was less cold, fortunately. He felt slightly more at ease, until Gyeong-su took the lead with quick steps and went back to narrating everything he saw, pointing out every useless detail like a tour guide.

 Nam-gyu raised his eyebrows, pleased that the other ignored the previous subject so easily.

 "I'm just waiting for the moment when you 'change my life'" Nam-gyu let himself laugh a little at the situation.

 "Calm down," The other said with a confidence disproportionate to reality. "You need to be a little more patient."

(NOTE: This chapter was basically nothing, this is why I'm calling it "prologue". It'll only make more sense once there are more chapters, the sole reason for all these scenes was to introduce Nam-gyu's life. And because I think it's funny to note how grumpy and different he is when he's with anybody else other than Thanos)

[sunshine-theseus]

Fools | Kyra Cooney-Cross x ND!Reader

Words: 4.3k

Summary: no one understood your mind, until you met Kyra.

Notes: Guys I have no knowledge of how Emirates is laid out, how meeting players off the pitch works etc, so I’m completely making this shit up I’m sorry. also sorry for the super long introduction, and the shit writing, I haven’t written in months.

Warnings: mentions of abuse - not proofread. i'm so sorry if this is so shit i genuinely haven't written in months. i wanted this one to be good so bad but i just don't think it is

the person who requested this has since deactivated so i actually feel so bad that i didn't get this out while they were on here. i'm genuinely so sorry for the past like 6 months.

I always struggled with social interactions. I didn’t understand it for a long time, why I always had to smile and hug people, why I had to lie about certain things like how I thought my aunt’s bright green hat looked, why I couldn’t ramble about Star Wars or the new penguin facts I just learned.

Then there were the sounds, and lights and the way things felt. Everything had to be specific, or I couldn’t focus. Sometimes if it was bad enough that I would have a breakdown, unable to do anything. My parents tried to scold it out of me when as a kid I couldn’t eat certain foods or wear the clothes they wanted. Sometimes if they deemed it worthy, I’d be met with the flesh of a palm against my cheek or bottom.

-

When I was 12, I presented the idea that maybe I was autistic to my parents. I’d researched it at school for a social emotional learning class we had to take, and I couldn’t help but notice the similarities I found within myself. If I think about it hard enough, I can feel every burning outline of the dark red hand marks that bloomed on my skin hours after the interaction, and the burning of my eyes as my stomach rumbled, drowned out by the music rumbling through my headphones.

-

At 17 I emancipated from my parents and moved to North Watford, renting out a small studio apartment above a record shop. I completed my final year of high school, working part time in the store, building a much-desired routine. The man that owned the shop and my apartment, and his young daughter, were migrants from Cuba, and more than happy to accommodate to my needs. They even chipped in to help me pay for my autism screening after I graduated high school.

I think they were the first people I willingly hugged ever.

I stopped masking when I moved, so the daughter, Elena; 5, took a few months to understand why I didn’t like touch or loud noises and why I didn’t understand some of the jokes she said that others usually laughed at. Not that I’d had the diagnosis at that time, but she was happy to just spend time with me. Every afternoon when I came back from school and started my shift, she’d beg me for more penguin facts, asking which was my favourite penguin. In return she’d spend the 2-hour shift drawing me something, usually a penguin, to pin on my corkboard at home.

I’d then help with her homework while Camilo closed shop and posted any online orders. It was a routine I cherished deeply.

-

Now, 3 and a bit years later at 21 years old, they managed to drag me to a football game. Equipped with headphones and a couple small sensory toys, as well as a hoodie under the “Miedema” jersey, the material of which originally had me tugging and prying the shirt away from my skin.

Elena and Camilo had been big fans of Arsenal for as long as I’d known them, going to every home game, begging me to join them every week without fail. I finally caved during a break in my uni courses, with nothing to do and Elena’s birthday falling on the day of a game, there was no other choice.

The newly 9-year-old basically imploded when she saw my printed ticket stub, tucked tightly into her birthday card. I gently ruffled her hair, which had become my version of hugging her, and showed her the 3 matching red and white #11 jerseys I purchased not long ago. She’d talked a lot about this Vivianne Miedema and how she wanted to be just like her when she grew up, but she’d never gotten a jersey, or seats on the bottom tier. Today was the day.

~

“Come ooonnn I want to get to our seats!” the pinky of her left hand links with my right one as her other hand is holding her dad’s, and she’s dragging us down the lane toward the entrance.

“Slow down Pollito! We have 20 more minutes until we need to be seated.” My special schedule for the day runs through my head as I check my watch. Plenty of time as long as the crowd keeps flowing.

“I wish you didn’t learn Spanish. It’s such a silly nickname.”

“But you’re my little chicken.” I send a joking frown her way and she replies with a toothless grin.

With the abrupt end to the conversation, we arrive at the gate. Showing the stewardess our tickets to be scanned, we then head toward our seats. As Camilo and I take our seats at the very front, instead of make way to their usual seats a tier up, Elena stops and looks back and forth between us.

“There’s no way you got us these seats.” Without a word I pull the girl in between us and she begins to ramble about how excited she is to be able to see the game so close, still able to be clearly heard through my headphones I manage to slip over my ears.

~

The game is drawn 1-1 just after half time, but Arsenal is close to having the upper hand. From across the pitch, Elena spots the tall and lanky number 11, Vivianne Miedema, pulling off her fluoro yellow bib and warm up shirt and lining up next to number 32 behind the fourth official who is prepping her sign. With a couple of whacks to my arm and an aggressive point of her finger, Elena makes me and Camilo very aware of the impending entrance of her favourite player, and another really attractive girl who is very obviously wearing her socks on the wrong feet. The thought makes me squirm but a shot on goal quickly manages to take my focus.

“Who’s the one coming on with Viv? You’ve never told me about number 32.” It’s hard to take my eyes off the girl as she jumps from one foot to the other, anticipating her entrance.

“Oh that’s Kyra Cooney-Cross! She’s Australian, she transferred at the start of the season. Jonas should play her more.” I acknowledge her words with a hum and a nod before we join in cheering Viv and Kyra on.

My eyes are glued to Kyra the rest of the game. Without any knowledge of how football works, I’m left to assume she’s good with the way she dances around players and passes the ball. It was weird, but her movement was so free flowing it would not be atrocious to confuse her with a ballerina. Elegant and calculated, no hesitation.

~

“Where are we going?” my pinky is once again linked with Elena’s as I drag her and Camilo through Emirates.

“Papa where is she going? The exit is that way.”

“I have no clue chica, but I suppose we should trust her aye?” with that, the father-daughter duo track behind me.

Eventually I stop just where the opening of the tunnel leads out on to the pitch and show a lady the pass I’d been carrying around all day. She smiles and begins walking down the tunnel, waving behind her as a sign for us to follow.

“What’s going on?” Elena asks once again, but I just follow the lady onto the pitch, where multiple members of the Arsenal squad are now loitering around, obviously waiting for something, or someone. At the front of the group is Viv, and when she spots the small girl behind me her eyes light up.

“Hi! You must be Elena. We’ve heard a lot about you!” she sends the girl a smile, but Elena doesn’t make any move to continue the conversation. My head whips to her and I nearly have to laugh from how adorable she is. Her jaw has dropped open and her eyes are welling up with tears, so I ruffle her hair and bend down to her height, removing my headphones.

“What’s up buttercup?” I lightly tap her head.

“That’s really her.” she whispers to me, her eyes not leaving the Dutch woman, who lets out a chuckle.

“Yes it is.”

“How?” I tap the side of my nose at her question indicating it’s to be left a secret.

“Can I have a hug?” Viv kneels on one knee and opens her arms and Elena suddenly breaks lose from her trance and runs up to her hero.

“It’s nice to meet you liefje, I hear you’ve been a fan for a long time. And today’s your birthday. How old are you turning?”

“Nine!”

“Oh wow, you’re growing up!”

“I know, but Y/N still calls me Pollito. I’m not a little chicken.” Everyone looking on bursts out laughing as Elena frowns, and while I join them, the loud sound simply reminds me of the lack of protection on my ears.

~

Elena gets whisked off to talk and play around with Viv and some of the other girls, who seem to all have taken a genuine liking to the young girl, Camilo following to watch over them. I stand firmly on the sidelines, fidgeting with an infinity cube and trying to forget the sudden scratching of my hoodie’s tag on the back of my neck and the tightness of my socks, when a now familiar face pops in front of me.

I don’t notice her at first, my eyes are closed and I’m trying breathing patterns in hopes that the overstimulating sensations with dissipate. It’s only when I open my eyes to check on Elena that I get the shock of my life. Number 32 is just standing in front of me, staring, waiting for me to notice her. no less than a minute ago she’d been spinning Elena around and laughing with her, which I’d found alarmingly adorable, how’d she get here so fast?

She doesn’t say anything, she just smiles and waves, and I realise she must think I can’t hear her with my headphones on, which many people tend to ignore. Wow she’s much prettier up close.

“Hi, I’m Y/N” I return her smile, but don’t make any move to remove the headphones.

“I’m Kyra.” Her voice is muffled but her accent is incredible and like music to my ears.

“You played really well today.” Is she blushing? Red creeps up her neck and finds home on her round cheeks as she smiles brightly.

“Ah thanks, I try to give it my all. Hoping to prove I deserve more game time.”

“You don’t get played often?” another chuckle passes her lips and I feel my stomach tighten.

“Uh no. I take it you’re not a big football fan?”

“What gives you that idea.”

“Well rocking up to an Arsenal game with blue nails for a start.” I cock my head to the side and give her a confused look. I did a lot of research for today, there was no room for me to mess up.

“Chelsea, our biggest rivals, their colour is blue. It’s basically forbidden for an arsenal fan to wear blue to a game. Trust me, I learnt the hard way.”

I’m quick to hide my hands in the pocket at the front of my hoodie, fidgeting with my nails. How did I manage to fuck that up?

“You don’t really have to worry, just maybe keep it in mind if you ever come to another game. I hope you do by the way.” She flashes me a smile that makes me feel warm and I can’t help myself.

“You’re very pretty.” She’s about to reply when I glance down and notice her socks are still wrong.

“And I’m not sure if you know but your socks are on the wrong feet.” It’s quiet for a moment and I’m not sure if my common candour has once again overstepped. I can’t even open my mouth to apologise before she giggles.

“I knew there was something wrong. I keep doing it but no one tells me until after the game… and you’re quite beautiful yourself. If you don’t mind me saying.” My eyes continue to avoid her face as I bounce on the balls of my feet and try to refrain from shaking my hands, my most common stim.

“Thank you.”

We’re silent for a minute or so, which I don’t mind now that I’m more familiar with her. I continue to watch Elena and Camilo, who are now playing in a 5v5, Viv carrying the girl halfway down their makeshift pitch before helping her kick the ball. When her laughs echo through the stadium, joy breaking through her screams and from the yells of her dad who is playing a rather poor referee, I’m reminded of how much I love this family. I can’t help the smile on my face.

“Your sister is very adorable.” I glance to my side where Kyra now resides and contemplate telling her she isn’t my sister, but the words get stuck in my throat. If I were to say they weren’t my family after all they’ve done for me, then I’d be lying.

“Yeah. She’s basically my whole life.”

“Hey can I ask about the headphones? I mean you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want but-“

“I’m autistic. Struggle really bad with sound and other stimulants. I wear headphones to dampen sounds, especially in public. And stadiums are full of sounds.” My palms sweat a little and my breath is laboured for a moment. This is usually the part where people decide I’m a freak and never talk to me again.

“Oh cool. I totally get that, the sound thing.” That warm feeling returns. She doesn’t question anything, she just agrees.

~

Eventually the meet and greet had to end, but I manage to get a few of the girl’s numbers, including number 32’s. Something I hadn’t expected was that the team would love Elena so much that they wanted to organise season tickets and some more passes to meet up after home games. I couldn’t help but be a little proud of myself as the young girl rambled about how amazing it was to get to hang out with her idols, and the prospect of seeing them again.

~

Uni starts back up the following week, so I don’t join the two for a game for quite a while. Despite that, I find myself texting Kyra most days, a good morning and goodnight routine quickly being established. We ask each other questions about each other. ‘What did you want to be if football didn’t work out?’ ‘What made you want to study your course?’ ‘what’s your favourite thing about Australia?’.

She liked to ask me about parts of my autism every now and then. She wanted to know what things to avoid, what topics made me ramble for ages, safe foods. The only other people who had ever cared this much were Elena and Camilo. The two of which had definitely taken note of how happy I’d grown since the game.

“Who are you talking to Angelito? You haven’t smiled this big in a long time.” Camilo takes a seat beside me behind the desk of the store

There is no need to hide the blossoming relationship from him, so I turn my screen to show the messages between Kyra and I, a bold ‘No. 32’ under a very weird but unmistakable picture of the girl. He hums and smiles, lightly nudging our shoulders together.

“She likes you.”

“Pft no she doesn’t.”

“‘you’re so cute.’ ‘I really like you.’ ‘I’ll save that for when I take you on a date.’ With a winky face emoji. She literally admits she likes you. Twice.”

“I thought that was that flirty thing people do with their friends.”

“I know when people like each other.”

“How Milo?”

“I have a gift.”

“A gift hmm?” he just smiles widely down at me before taking my phone again. He begins to type something.

“What are you writing Milo? Milo!” I glance over his shoulder.

‘I really like you and would like to go on a date if you’re free.’ I’m about to scold him but three dots appear as Kyra begins typing.

“If this works you owe me an extra hour this week.”

“You are an evil schemer Camilo.” I say before squeezing his shoulder, a common sign of affection we’d developed.

‘I’d really like that. Tomorrow’s our day off if that works.’

I can’t help the squeal I let out as Camilo writes a response in confirmation.

“I’m going on a date.”

“You deserve this kiddo.”

~

Kyra and I agree on a dinner date at a restaurant I’d mentioned really enjoying a few months ago, that I hadn’t had a chance to visit since. I’d made the reservation, asking for the specific table I’d sat at the last time I came, and I’d already decided on what I was getting before I even hoped in the car to drive there.

I’d planned everything perfectly. The place, my outfit, what time I had to leave to arrive there 10 minutes before our agreed upon time. I hadn’t taken into account the car speeding through a red light and crashing into the car in the right lane beside me. Or the fact that due to the momentum I’d get caught between the 2 cars and the building on the corner of the street I was just about to turn down. No more than 15 metres from the restaurant but I’m trapped and the seatbelt is too tight and my head hurts. I’m crushed between my door and the centre console and all the sirens and ambulance lights approaching are too much and all I can do it cry.

If I could just reach my bag in the footwell of the passenger seat I could get my headphones to relieve some of the stimulation, but I can’t bend that way without my ribs screaming and whatever is poking my hip in my back making itself known.

I pray to every god I can name that I pass out, but no one hears as the jaws of life pry open my door. When were the other cars moved?

“Ma’am we have to cut you out. my colleague here is going to hold you up. Is that okay?” I don’t have any energy to say no, so I nod, waiting for some scissors to snip away at the seatbelt. Instead, I hear an electric saw whir to life.

“W- what’s the saw for?” my words are barely recognisable as they slur together.

“Ma’am everything is okay, just stay still for us okay?”

The sawing is over quicker than it begun, and the paramedics make an effort to move me as carefully as they can onto the stretcher, then into the ambulance. I make no move to complain about how the neck brace is itchy and feels suffocating.

A minute passes and through the newly developed ringing in my ears, I hear someone calling my name. they sound so far away but when I open my eyes again, Kyra is standing above me, next to the paramedic who’s hooking me up to monitors,

“Do you know this lady ma’am?” she asks me as I stare up at the girl I was meant to be on a date with.

“Yeah she’s my girlfriend.” A voice in the back of my head is worried that maybe that will freak Kyra out, but I know they won’t let her ride with me if we don’t have some close connection and for some reason friend does not cross my mind.

They allow her to take the extra seat beside me and she loops her pinky with mine. She keeps glancing down toward my stomach and taking deep breaths as we make our way down the streets of London. I try to see what she’s looking at but the brace doesn’t allow me to look that far down.

“You’re going to be okay.” She whispers as they roll me out of the ambulance, and she manages to quickly kiss me before I’m gone from view.

~

I don’t know how long I’m out for, but when I wake up there is a sterile white light beaming down on me and I have to instantly close my eyes. I’m quick to take note of the horrible feeling of the hospital gown I definitely wasn’t in when I’d gone under.

“Papa! She’s awake!” I let out a groan at the yell but and quick to smile once the voice registers in my head.

“Pollito.” My voice is no more than a whisper, hoarse and dry.

“Hey Angelito. How are you feeling.”

“Horrible. The light’s too bright and the gown is so itchy.” Neither Elena nor Camilo leave my side, but the light is off within seconds.

“I more meant physically. You were hit pretty hard.” The screeching of tyres, the smell of burnt rubber, the flashing lights, all rush back to me. So does the pain.

“Now that you mention it. What’s the damage?” it’s meant as a joke but I’m trying not to cry.

“3 broken ribs, 2 fractured, a torn vastus lateralis in your thigh, a lot of muscle damage in your back. It’s going to be a lot of physical therapy kiddo.” The thought has bile rising in my throat.

“Fuck me.”

“It’s okay, we’re going to be here the whole way. All of us.” By now I could know the voice in a crowd of people.

I turn my head and there she is. Kyra is sat in one of the uncomfortable hospital seats with her hand on top of mine.

“If it’s okay with you, Camilo, me and some of the arsenal girls are going to sort out a schedule to take turns helping you with PT. Viv was really hoping she could give some tips considering how long she spent doing PT.”

“That sounds perfect. But please tell me one of you has my pyjamas. I need to get out of this gown.”

~

There was no lie in how difficult rehab was. I had an hour appointment at the hospital every day and additional work at home that Milo, Kyra and some of the arsenal girls happily helped with. The hardest hurdle was amount of physical touch that was required. My physical therapist, Jordan, always made sure I knew when she needed to touch my leg or something, but that did very little to sooth the feeling that crawled beneath my skin. She was able to dim the fluorescent white lights and allowed me to wear my headphone which did help a small amount.

Kyra basically moved into my room above the shop. Milo insisted he could do all the work of getting me around the house and the shop, but we knew he couldn’t while maintaining the shop and looking after Elena. Elena tried her best to help by making me breakfast. She gathered pre-made versions of my safe breakfast food and carefully place them separately on a plate, with a glass of orange juice every morning. After the first week she realised I’d be in a wheelchair and struggling to move around much for much longer than she thought, so she quickly gave up on that idea and began making me penguin drawings at school.

I’d adapted to having Kyra around much quicker than I expected to. When I moved in at 17, it took me months to get used to the layout and the fact that I was alone, despite Camilo and Elena living in the house across the road. I adapted to Kyra’s presence within weeks.

After the second week we’d decided it was easier to share the bed rather than her sleeping on the couch, which had been the biggest change. I struggled with it the first few nights. I had a sleep routine that was already disrupted by the injuries, now I had to take another person into account. But she was so warm, and I felt so safe in her arms. Whenever I woke up from a nightmare about the crash, she grabbed me an iced tea and my headphones and would ramble about whatever interests she had recently developed or whatever was happening at training.

It was in the second month things took a more serious turn. Well serious for our relationship. I was sitting at the table chopping the vegetables for dinner while she begins cooking, when I took a minute to just look at her. The warm lighting softened her features, her quiet humming to whatever song was playing carried throughout the room, the smile that seemed to never leave her face sat perfectly on her lips as she listened to me ramble about the newly discovered yellow king penguin. She was so radiant and attentive, and she was never annoyed at me when I was overstimulated or wanted to infodump. She was seemingly unaffected by my rehab and most importantly unaffected by my autism. After a life full of negative interactions and losing people because of one thing I couldn’t control, I’d found a family and a partner who embraced me.

I didn’t realise I was crying until she turned and asked me what was wrong.

“I’m just grateful.”

“For what?”

“You, Milo, Elena. I love you all so much.” I didn’t realise I’d said it really. I was just being candid, as I always was.

“You love me?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation even as it dawned on me.

“Well, I love you too.” There is a split second between the end of her sentence and the meeting of our lips in a kiss.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” I ask as we pull away.

“Wait- I thought- when you called me your girlfriend on the ambulance I kind of took that as you asking me to be your girlfriend.” She begins laughing.

“What? This whole time I’ve been nervous about actually asking you and you already thought I had?” I can’t help but join her laugh.

“We’re such fools.” She whispers, and we kiss again.

I'll always be a fool for her.

[sashi-ya]

𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬 𝑩: 𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑨𝑿 「cuts of freedom: part 4」 soshiro hoshina x f! officer! reader

a/n: ok, ok! since you've been asking for a continuation, here it is! thank you for your support + were you expecting some kind of drama? if so, wait for yet another part then 🙊 tw: mdni! sex explicit scenes. Soshi is a little hurt so he is not going to be as active as usual. more of a romantic chapter. they are on the early stages of a rs so doubts are all over. oral (given). riding. nipple play kinda. wc: 3k // part1: cuts of freedom // part 2: かんぱい！// part 3: stuffed // masterlist

He got hurt. that fight wasn’t easy, and yet he still wanted to keep fighting. “You should go to rest!” Ashiro Taichou scolded him, and he finally complied.

That same day, nobody wanted breakfast. All of you wanted to sleep, rest, pass out on your beds. And maybe too late for lunch everybody started waking up…

Like zombies, you all drag towards the dining room. Those with pain on their limbs, and those who have no visible injuries are all equally hungry.

You sit down next to Kikoru, and while she seems a lot more energetic than you, she is still sleepy. You grab something to eat, scanning the place to find him anywhere.

Despite him having a couple of bad injuries, he only spent a couple of hours at the medical centre. And so, you waited for his happy smile to appear and salute you all.

However, the food is almost completely gone, and he hasn’t appeared yet. The one who does, actually, is your captain, Mina.

“I came to salute and thank you for your hard work, guys. We’ve decided to let you all have a relax day. Keep in mind that if necessary we might need to call you back for duty”

Everybody. Absolutely. Went. Crazily happy.

You could or not ask for your vice-captain, but it would be… suspicious. You don’t want people getting in the way, not because it was forbidden. But because people will talk… and the risk, the secret you both have is exhilarating enough to keep it in between you and him.

Though the mystery of where he was, was discovered some minutes after with a “ping” on your phone…

16:02>VC Hoshina: are you o.o.d already? 16:03>you: yes, how do you know? 16:05>VC Hoshina: who do you think requested Ashiro Taichou for you all to have a day off? let’s have a night in at my place tonight. I’ll make dinner. Be ready at 5, I’ll be outside. 16:05>you:  outside? Together? Are you sure? aren’t you supposed to be resting? 16:06>you: yep, you coming home with me so you can take care of me… 😏

A date? A night in? His place? are we really dating? Are we a… couple?

It is taking you all you got not to show your happy smile -you do anyway-. It feels too good to be real. You wonder how his place might look like? What is he going to cook? Which clothes should you bring?

Ultimately, and exactly 10 minutes prior your set meting point, you are ready. You pick the sexiest underwear you could probably have while living at the base. -sports bra and panties- and little toiletries. Your backpack isn’t heavy, but your stomach is. Despite everything you two have experienced together, the first time you are actually on a date with nobody around will be this.

“Ready?” he asks,  peeking from the windows of his car. Black, exquisite, modern, expensive. What else would you expect?

“Yes ~” you whisper, smiling sexily.

Once you are inside and you have fastened the seat belt on, Soshiro comes closer to your lips. His fingers land on your chin, pulling you ever so softly towards his.

“Don’t give me that look, or I’ll fuck you right here” he whispers, planting a peck soon after.

You gasp silently; strong, funny, handsome, charismatic, and such a player… your heart skips quite some beats, and only the roaring of the car engine is able to break the enchantment you have fallen in.

Of course, the ride ended up pretty fast. Despite Soshiro having his house, the Hoshina family manor, he prefers to rent a very modest -not really, his is disgustingly rich- apartment closer to the base for obvious reasons.

“You’ve been quiet since we left the base. Wanna come back?” he asks, this time as serious as he can be.

“No, I was only intrigued about your lifestyle. Everything around here looks beautiful, Hoshina fuku Taicho” you murmur, following him inside the elevator.

He giggles; and instants later, when the lift doors close, he smirks. Eyes now open, sloppy but sexy, looking at you like a kaiju to subjugate, making you take little steps back against you encounter the mirrored wall behind.

You know how men turn when inside elevators…

“So-shi-ro” he corrects you; even him feels the need to forget for some hours about your jobs.

“so…shi…ro ~” you purr.

His hands end up on the railing behind you, on each side of your hips. His chest, chiselled to perfection, closer to yours. His lips, even closer than before.

“I would very much like to fuck you right here, too. There are cameras. I wouldn’t mind if you want to videotape us, but you are mine… and I don’t want anybody else to see you”

You swallow, once again your legs turned weak. And your brain? Stopped “braining”.

The doors open, and inside the apartment you both go. With wet panties, you try to act as if the last interaction never happened.

“Welcome ~” he sings, taking his boots off.

Inside, of course, everything seems more expensive than a whole year worth of salary, so you try not to touch anything. There aren’t many decorative pieces, but definitely the ones that garnish the walls are various blades shining their metallic glitter with white led lights.

Ahead, a big glass wall let’s your eyes infuse in a dying sun over the city of Tachikawa’s golden hour.

“What a beautiful view” you murmur, taking off your shoes.

“A panoramic view that will sooner or later be destroyed by those bitches…” he sighs, surrounding your waist with his arms from behind.

Soshiro’s chin rests on your shoulder; his aura feels a lot more romantic and calmed. It seems as if he really wanted a chill night with you and not just a lustful chain of sexual desires unleashed.

“Are you feeling ok? Does anything hurt?” you ask, worried. He didn’t seem very hurt while driving but he is strong to ignore any pain.

“Mhh? I think so. Though, that thing… was scary” he is as honest as he can be while turning you around to face him.

His eyes are beautifully tinted in orange, as the light of sunset reflects on them. His hair, purple and black, frame a sweet face. The sound of a feng shui little fountain takes over with infinite drops falling on dancing pieces of bamboo branches.

“Thank you for inviting me over…” you whisper, getting drunk on the handsome features you fell for.

Soshiro smiles softly, placing his forehead on yours. Both close your eyes, enjoying the relaxing atmosphere of a private refugee. For once, maybe for some hours, there is peace in your minds.

“You don’t need to be invited to come here” he whispers back, placing a kiss on your forehead, leaving you speechless… Is this the confirmation he is going for real with you?

Soon, and after a very deep kiss, tinted in love and lust, he tells you to wait for him.

You use such time to enjoy for a little longer those outstanding views of the city, but what you will watch at next will be a lot more worth it to look at…

Dressed in yukata, Soshiro looks a lot more relaxed than before. And you, well… you try not to die to such show off of autochthone beauty scattered in front of you.

“You- wow…” you simply express. “Sorry, the bandages feel more comfortable if I am wearing lose clothes…”

He enjoys your needy eyes scanning him up and down, and soon asks you to follow him to the kitchenette where he prepares a series of very sharp objects to cook with.

“You know why squad 3 was happy at first when I joined?” he asks, taking fresh -very fresh and expensive- salmon out of the fridge.

“Mmm… ‘cause you were funny?” you joke. You know it is probably because of his skills.

He looks at you a little annoyed, but soon brush it off with a silly laugh.

“No! it is because Mina can’t handle knives. So, I, naturally being the great swordsman I am -and also great cook-, I was the one in charge of cutting the ingredients for them”

You giggle; you knew Mina didn’t have such skill… but at that point?

“Then mr. cook swordsman, please delight me with your skills” you purr, bending over the counter isle. Your collar allows the very beginning of your breasts to show, but Soshiro knows very well that he should focus on not cutting himself instead of it.

He scoffs, and precisely begins cutting thin slices of salmon. The way his sharp blade sections that pinkish flesh makes an act that to some might be barbaric, a ravishing image to look at.

Soshiro’s profile shows a tensing mandible, with muscles moving along with concentration and technique. It reminds you to the times you’ve seen him train minus the sweat -not that you were complaining about it, actually-

The way his yukata opens just enough for you to admire his pale flesh, obliges you to bite the insides of your mouth; to cross your legs enough as a natural reflex to satisfy the demands of your femininity.

Once those fine pieces of fish have been cut, they are put to rest to the side. Soshiro proceeds to grab a bowl with freshly cooked rice from the fridge, followed by the ingredients to assemble the nigiri.

He takes a swift look at you from the side; his smirk, makes you shiver. He knows he looks hot while doing this, and he will continue to do so for as long as he wants it to.

The way he cups a little ball of rice into his palm, and how he spreads the spicy wasabi on it, reminds you of how good his hands are when he touches you… so sensual, delicate, precise.

You can’t help but get lost into what he is doing, with a silly in love face, you allow him to continue in complete silence.

And once he is finished with the nigiri, he begins to prepare a sweet sauce that you assume must contain mango.

“Try the sauce”  he offers, with a silver spoon.

You walk around the counter and allow him to feed you the preparation right into your mouth. As sexy as possible, and as delicious as it can be, you enjoy the taste that’s also followed by his lips being pressed on yours. A kiss so sweet with little hints of citric, a kiss that threatens diner to be forgotten.

Soshiro lifts you up on top of the table; leaving the preparations on the side. His yukata opens a little bit more, showing off protruding -so delicious- collar bones, his bare chest and the very beginning of bandages tied around his waist.

You open your legs for him to come closer, but now that you’ve seen the bandages you make sure you are absolutely delicate with your movements.

 He kisses you again and again; he is soft and sweet, and absolutely sensual as well.

“Here” he murmurs, once he is over with your swollen lips and brings one of the pieces of sushi he just created to your mouth. Bare fingers, as traditionally as can be, he feeds you.

Delighted, you enjoy the savoury mix with the sweet sauce.

“So good, Soshiro… you were right, you are a wonderful cook” you murmur, still enjoying the piece in your mouth.

“Told you ~” he giggles, bragging about an undeniable truth.

You giggle too, this time grabbing a piece with your hands and giving it to him right into his mouth.

It might be a different experience for the both of you; a relaxing, mature, romantic and sensual night it…

And when the nigiri are definitely over, and your hunger -for food- satisfied, Soshiro invites you to yet another part of his department; the balcony. Such place is anything but small, but it is definitely cozy. It also communicates right with his room.

“I already told you this, but this view is breath-taking” you purr. “I think so, yes” he whispers, grazing your nape and neck with loving hand and looking right into your eyes.

Your cheeks burn; your stomach gets full of dancing, kaiju sized butterflies.

“I love this side of you…” you mumble, hugging him, placing your head on his chest with utmost care. “You made me feel like doing this” he answers, kissing the crown of your head.

Both enjoy the night views; laughing at an Izumo tecs drone falling down because it encountered a tree in its way. Of course, Soshiro laughs the loudest, and you can’t help but hug him harder as his fangs protrude like if he were a little kitten.

“auch-“ he grimaces. “oh, oh god. I’m so sorry!!” you panic, remembering his waist is covered in bandages. “take me… to… my bed!” he acts as if he was about to die, and you try to supress the laughter.

Soshiro -still acting up- opens the sliding glass doors of his room, and inside you both go.

He pounces into bed, dragging you with him. And despite him definitely knowing that he shouldn’t have done that, he brushes the pain on his belly away.

“You good?” “NO. CURE ME”

Soshiro holds you closer, snuggling with you on a king-sized bed. Finally, comfortable, you two lay together. And still, there isn’t room for anything in between you both.

For quite some time you stay in silence nuzzled into his chest. His perfume, so delicious, gets you drunk in love. His skin, pale and soft, like always, lures you to bite and kiss. His hand, heavy and warm, plays with your hair, slowly.

“I want to make love to you” Soshiro suddenly says, breaking the silence and stopping your heart.

“You…” you whisper, feeling a heat wave taking over your cheeks, nose and ears.

“With no hurries, nor worries” he continues, bringing his hand down your spine and into the small of your back. Soshiro pulls you even closer to him, with your core pressed against the side of his leg.

Your lips meet again, you don’t have to say “yes” to his proposal. You just want it to happen now. And soon, you become undressed in one bit.

However, you don’t want him -yet- to do all the work tonight. And perhaps, as a way of thanking him for this night, you want to pleasure him first.

Standing up without saying much, you crawl in between his legs. Your hands reach for the sash that holds his yukata together, and slowly as he wanted, you untie it.

Soshiro smirks, biting his own lip with sharp fangs.

“Put yourself comfortable; you cooked, now dessert is on me”

He gets, indeed, comfortable as he puts both pillows underneath his nape and his hands are ready to fall upon your head once your mouth begins to work on his sex.

Hard, of course, he waits. Hard, dripping with wet boxers, a damp stain on grey underwear you make bigger licking over it.

Soshiro squirms; your oral is delicious, as his taste is to you. Yet, the fabric isn’t as good as his bare skin. So, you pull from the hem of his boxer briefs, urging him to help you with the wiggling of his hips.

You place a kiss right on the tip, and your hand surrounds his rock-hard shaft. You can tell he is more than sensitive to your lips, as he begins contorting little by little.

But it is not enough pleasure. And deep inside your mouth, you let his sex slide in. Hitting faster your throat, his moans and grunts are a delightful symphony of lust.

“Honey…ugh…” he whines, pulling your head back from your hair, as pleasure seems to be high enough to make him burst.

“What? ~ already cumming?” you ask, kinda giggling and still pumping his dick up and down.

“In fact, yes! Come here, let me fuck you- I- ugh-“ Soshiro says, trying to stand up, soon noticing the wound in his stomach hurts more than what he thought. Perhaps the pain killers have already lost its effect, or it was the fact his muscles tensed and spasmed.

“Calm down, vice-captain… you are convalescent, let me do all the work for you” “It was me who wanted to make love to you” “maybe tomorrow morning…”

You, knowing that even if he is not on top he will make love to you either way, climb on his lap. As you promised, you will be the one doing the work for now.

One of your hands drive his shaft right into your entrance, and for some seconds you remain there, with it barely penetrating you. With both of you already moaning to the feeling. With your inner thighs shaking, ready to crumble and let Soshiro’s sex to go deep inside of you.

Eager. Desperate.

You let your hips flop onto his, allowing his dick to be finally deep, so very deep inside of you. Your hands fall on the backrest, for a better grip before you start riding.

As for Soshiro, he squeezes your butt cheeks, pressing you harder against him. No matter how painful his wound may turn, his body acts on his own. He follows your movements, sync to the rhythm of your ups downs and arounds.

He enjoys the view of your bouncy chest right above his face, making it impossible not to want to bite them. And so, he does. As you ride, he sucks, bites, nibbles on your nipples.

With one hand on the small of your back, and the other grabbing one of your breasts, Soshiro and you sail to ecstasy surely and despite wanting to go slow… none of you could stop your bodies from going at least feral.

So feral your hearts, about to pounce from your chests. So feral, with moaning loudly, with nobody from the squad to hear you whine.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFeral, feral, feral. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe sound of his phone stops it all. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ [Okonogi-chan calling…]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ "Why is she calling, Soshiro?"

[cantstops1mping]

Nightly Swim

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

// 🖤🔪 - smut, mature //

2638 words

{ao3}

§getou x gojo x fem!reader§

[Dead dove do not eat, MDNI, non-con, major character death, female reader, bottom!reader, top!Gojo Satoru, top!Getou Suguru, kidnapping, p in v sex, oral m.reciveing, reader gets called bitch. slut. good girl. princcess. sweets, bondage, blood, gore, a lot of gore, piss, knife play, blood used as lube, no morals, necrophilla]

«As you’re walking home from a late night at the office something is after you, something is wanting you.»

Please understand that I hundred percent do NOT support rape! please forgive me…

It was midnight; you left work later than usual. You had to work extra hours today because your boss was a dick. He made you rewrite your news article more than 5 times! ‘Of course, everything needed to be to his liking’ you thought. You could hear nothing; no one was out, no one, but you. There was only dead silence in the city. Working your dead-end job with no pay, you had barely enough money to pay rent; let alone buy a car. So, you had to walk. While walking, you decided to read the news article for the week, made by your coworker. 

It was a shit idea.

All the articles were about missing people; people being killed and all by the same guy. “Horrifying” that’s all you could describe the article as. You imagined yourself being taken, being brutally killed- ‘no, no, no, no, I can't think like that; nothing’s going to happen’ you thought.

…

Step, step, step… 

You heard footsteps, not yours, but a second set. You quickly whipped around, seeing that there was no one there. You continued walking, thinking it was your imagination.

Step, step, step… 

Again, you heard the same footsteps. Your eyes widened; you were scared now; you whipped around again, but still, nothing, just the empty street.

Step, step, step… 

This time you knew someone was following you. You started running; running as fast as you could, wanting to feel safe from who was following you. You decided to hide in an alleyway hoping whoever was following you would walk past so you could be on your way home.

You walked backward into the alleyway just to be safe.

“Boo.” A calm gruff voice whispered from behind you. You felt him rapidly grab your hands and put them behind your back, tying them with rope, keeping them there. You felt him put his other arm around your waist to hold you against his body. You could feel all of his muscles; feeling his abs on your back; his muscular arms around you. he held you tightly so you wouldn’t be able to escape. You thrashed against his body hoping to escape but his grip just got tighter and tighter. You were horrified. You were about to scream, but he covered your mouth with his hand to muffle your screams. “No one's gonna be able to save you, princess, not even if you scream at the top of your lungs.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. He seemed to be waiting, waiting for someone, waiting so calmly while you were thrashing against his body and screaming into his hand with tears running down your face.

There was someone else who entered the alleyway; he was just as muscular as the first person. “So you finally decided to join us, huh?” the one holding you said. “Should've told me you got her,” the man before you replied. “Aw, the bunny is all trapped now, can't run anymore, can you?” he said in a mocking tone.

The man in front of you got something out of his pocket: a rag and a bottle of unfamiliar liquid. You started thrashing harder, trying to break free, trying to run. The man in front of you dumped most of the liquid on the rag while the man behind you tightened his grip. “Behave,” getting tired of your thrashing. The rag was smacked onto your face, and your muffled scream came to an end as you passed out.

…

“Cold…” You woke up, your body felt heavy. You looked around and saw your confines. Your naked body tied to the bed. You started your thrashing again, looking around for something to help you escape.

“Finally! You woke up!” One of them said.

Tears started streaming down your face. Remembering what happened in the alleyway, you were horrified at what they were going to do to you now. “Aw, don't cry, you're only gonna get me harder,” one said. 

“You're lucky we didn’t fuck you in your sleep,” the other said. 

“P-please l-let me go,” you hiccuped. “I-I won’t tell anyone, p-please let me go, I d-didn't even see your faces.” You were barely louder than a whisper.

One of them took off their masks. “Well, now you did, sweetheart,” the man had jet black hair pulled up into a bun. 

“No, please, I won't tell anyone, please, let me go,” you sobbed out. 

“You're really cute, ya know,” the other man said while taking off his mask. He had beautiful blue eyes and white hair, beautiful. No, you can't think that about your kidnappers.

“We don't wanna let go of such a cute and pretty thing now, do we, Getou?”

Getou was the name of the black-haired one. “We sure don't, Gojo,” Gojo was the name of the other one. “And now that you've seen our faces and know our names, we definitely can't let you go, sweets.”

“No, no, please, please, I swear I won't say anything, please let me go,” you wept. “I-I won't tell anyone, please let me go, please, I'm begging you, please.”

“Well, how do we know we can trust you?” Getou said. To that, you sobbed harder. 

“Aw, look at her face, so wet, just like her pussy,” Gojo said smugly. 

“You like this, don’t you? Like being kidnapped, like being splayed out naked for your kidnappers? Like thinking about how well we will rape you?” Getou said, 

“Well, it's not rape if she's that wet, right?” Gojo replied

They were both so smug; it made you want to puke.

You were doing your best trying not to make a peep with all the tears running down your face. It was impossible. You wanted to curse at them and try to get free, but you felt so vulnerable; so exposed that you couldn’t move a muscle. So, you laid there tied on the bed, naked and exposed. You didn’t want them to do anything to you. You were just hoping; pleading that they let you go even like this; even in all your naked glory. You just wanted to leave.

“F-fuck,” you moaned as Gojo shoved two fingers into you, rubbing your clit gently. “Fuck, she likes it, guess it's not rape then,” Getou smirked, watching.

“Stop, stop, get away from me, please,” you choked out, trying to stop yourself from moaning. 

“You're definitely a virgin, I mean, you're squeezing my fingers so tight and you can barely stop yourself from moaning.”

He pumped his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. His thumb lightly rubbed over your clit. You could feel the shape of his hand in you. Long, rough, and thick. You absentmindedly pushed your hips towards his hand, needing more attention on your clit. He pushed your hips down then, you started to whine “Stop, please stop, I don’t like this, I don't want this, please”

You were close to cumming, but just when you were about to, he stopped all friction. You whined loudly. “Oh? I thought you didn't want this,” Getou said. 

He shoved two fingers back into your pussy. “Wow, she is tight,” he said to Gojo. “Think you can take three fingers, princess?”

You shook your head violently, but he still shoved another finger in, finger-fucking you with a rapid pace.

‘Why did it feel good?’ you questioned to yourself.

Gojo came around to the top of the bed where your head was; he had his cock out, big and beautiful, standing tall against his stomach. “Open,” he said. When you didn't, he smacked you hard right across your face. When you opened your mouth, he shoved his dick in and started fucking your mouth unbelievably fast.

Getou ripped his fingers from your entrance and got his gorgeous big mushroom-tipped dick out. He tried shoving it in, but you were still tight.

“Fuck, she's too tight, need some lube,” Getou looked around the room, finding a knife and- was that a person!? The guy was still breathing but was knocked out in the corner of the room, tied up. Getou went to him and slit a line on the guy's arm. The guy woke up screaming and starting to cry. 

“Shut up, will ya?” Getou said in annoyance before slowly cutting more places on his body - his thigh, his stomach, his face, his other arm, his dick, and balls, before stabbing him right in the stomach, then grabbing the dead guy by the hair and throwing him right next to you on the bed. You wanted to scream, but Gojo's big dick was choking the life out of you; you thrashed around, not wanting to be next to him, next to all the blood. Getou stabbed your thigh with the knife. 

“I'm getting tired of all the thrashing you do so be a good girl and stay still.” You bit down after feeling the sharp pain in your thigh. A yelp was heard from the man who had his cock buried in your throat. You quickly stopped biting after remembering who was down your throat and continued to weep. Gojo quickly pulled out of your mouth and groaned. 

“Fucking bitch, if you don’t know how to behave we will teach you, slut” he spat out still groaning in pain. Getou started laughing while the two of you were in pain, one more than the other. 

With tears streaming down your face Gojo pushes himself back into your mouth. Gojo smacked you in the face “This time you better not bite me” He growled in your ear as he shoved into you. 

Getou pooled some of the guy’s blood in his hand and started lubing you up with it. You couldn’t thrash around because of the knife in your thigh, but you could cry and weep, not as loudly with Gojo fucking your face as fast as he could. You felt disgusted to get someone else's blood used on you as lube, disgusting, nasty, you felt horrible.

Getou pushed into your lubed and bloodied hole as you cried. Surprisingly, he fucked you slow, not fast like Gojo. 

You tried to block out the sensations, the pain, and the violation of your body. You tried to think of anything else besides the two men using you for their own pleasure. But it was impossible; the sight of the dead man next to you, the feeling of blood on your skin, the pain of the knife in your thigh, and the overwhelming fear and shame consumed you.

You felt like you were drowning in a sea of darkness, unable to escape, unable to find a way out. The tears kept streaming down your face, mixing with the blood and the sweat. You felt dirty, tainted, and broken.

Getou's slow and deliberate movements only added to the agony. Every thrust felt like a knife twisting in your gut, every touch felt like a violation of your soul. You felt like a puppet being controlled by cruel and sadistic masters, forced to endure their twisted desires.

You wanted to scream, to beg for mercy, to plead for release. But all that came out were muffled sobs and choked whimpers. You felt powerless, helpless, and utterly defeated.

You were brought back from your thoughts as Gojo pumped his seed down your throat, slowly pulling out. “Swallow.” He commanded and you did, feeling all the fight leave your body accepting that they would use you and hopefully throw you out.

Getou soon followed suit, filling you with his seed before pulling out. You felt utterly exhausted, physically and emotionally drained. The pain, the shame, the violation - it all felt like a heavy weight on your chest, suffocating you.

“FUCK,” you yelped as they moved you around like a ragdoll. They were clearly unbothered by the knife in your thigh. 

“Oh my god can you shut the fuck up. You've been screaming since the moment you've got here; your gonna bust my fucking eardrums.” Getou sighed as he reached off to your thigh and grabbed the knife and started to twist it slowly.

“M’sorry, I'm sorry, please I'm so sorry!” You cried. Words spilling out of you like a mantra, begging him to stop. With that, he stopped. 

You look to where Gojo was. He seemed to be aiming his dick at your thigh. You immediately knew what he was planning on doing. You weren't able to move your thigh due to the pain so with a look of horror on your face, you started to beg. Random pleas for him not to do it escaped your throat.

Slowly golden liquid poured out of his cock and onto your wound, making you scream in pain. The burning sensation was overwhelming, the pain excruciating as the acidic urine seeped into the open wound on your thigh. You thrashed and screamed in agony, unable to comprehend the sheer cruelty and sadism of your captors.

Through tear-blurred vision, you saw the sadistic smirk on Gojo's face, the satisfaction in his eyes as he watched you suffer. It was clear that they took pleasure in your pain, in your helplessness.

The room felt suffocating, the air heavy with the stench of blood, sweat, and urine. You felt nauseous, on the verge of vomiting from the sheer trauma of it all.

The two men seemed to revel in your suffering, in the power they held over you. Their laughter, their taunts, only added to your despair, to your sense of utter hopelessness.

Then, Gojo swiftly pulled the knife from your wound and thrusted his cock into the wound on your thigh, causing you to scream out in agony. The pain was unbearable, the sensation of his dick moving in and out of the wound made you want to vomit. You couldn't believe the level of cruelty and sadism these men possessed.

“Ugh, we get it now shut up,” Getou says as he shoves himself into your mouth. 

You gagged and choked on his member, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to breathe. The pain and humiliation were overwhelming, the sense of violation and degradation suffocating you.

Gojo continued to thrust his cock into the wound on your thigh, each movement sending waves of agony through your body. You felt like you were being torn apart like your very soul was being ripped apart by their brutality.

The room spun and blurred around you, the sounds of their grunts and your cries echoing in your ears. You felt like you were drowning in a sea of pain and despair, unable to find a way out, unable to escape the horror of your reality.

You wanted to scream, to beg for mercy, to plead for release. But all that came out were choked sobs and desperate gasps for air. You felt like you were on the brink of madness, on the edge of oblivion, consumed by the darkness that surrounded you.

You felt everything in you die down. Slowly you closed your eyes. You went limp, you felt nothing, and the assault on your body was no longer being felt. You were no longer there. 

Both Gojo and Getou came into your unresponsive body. “Shit, we killed her” Gojo laughs. 

“I’ll get the trash back,” Getou groans.

…

“She was fun to play with, kinda wish she went on for longer though” Gojo smirks as he shoves your body into the trash bag.

“She was loud as fuck. I’m glad she died” Getou says as he rolls his eyes. He shoves your body into the back of his truck.

“Lake?” Getou questions.

“Yep,” Gojo says popping the ‘p’.

…

Getou gets out of the truck and grabs your bagged body. “Have fun on your nightly swim,” Getou says with a smirk, as he throws your limp body into the lake.

© cantstops1mping 2024; please do not copy, steal, repost, modify, translate, or recommend on any other platform without giving me credit or without my permission!

[paper-mario-wiki]

alright so, i said a few days ago that i might do a sponsored stream as a fun way of making some money. this was due to my upcoming move, and i was thinking about ways i could put together the inevitably huge moving costs, though i wasn't worried too much about it so this was more of a fun idea than an actual idea.

HOWEVER. yesterday was supposed to be the day that the roommates and i finally decided on the place we'd be going. we had 3 options, and ALL of them fell through for different reasons within a span of 5 hours. Plans A, B, and C all became unactionable seven days before our lease ends. as you can imagine, most of last night and this morning has been a lot of scrambling to put together a new, less advantageous solution out of (truthfully) desperation. and the one we have come to is costly, but unfortunately it's the only winning hand we can play right now. and we HAVE played it, and we HAVE secured a place to live, though only a month after our lease ends. before then, we'll need to pay for two months of a four-person rent, with only 3 people (since one person is moving home at the end of the lease).

with that in mind, in the near future (within the month probably), i'll likely be hosting a fairly straight-forward fundraiser stream. it's something that i've been avoiding for the past year on principle, as it's been important to me to make all of my money from an employer and not through the goodwill of strangers online. and i have been so far, which has been great! but my income (and the income of my roommates) is not the kind of pay that can account for sporadic $2,000 surprises with a one-month deadline out of nowhere, ya kno. granted, i'll still be busting my ass at my job, but the thing about working at a small company is that sometimes there's only so much work and so many hours to go around.

this stream won't be a followup to any previous Big Series streams (so no homestuck, sorry), but i will only move forward with it when i have an idea that i feel is actually worth a $2,000 stream. or at least the one that gets closest before the deadline comes knocking.

i apologize for needing to ask again for help like this, and i thank you for understanding.

[whimsijoy]

fake plastic trees

a/n: so i fear this has been brewing in my docs for too long and i actually hate it but its my longest fic yet + i’ve been wanting to write a song fic (if u can even call this that) for so long. eeeek!!!

content warning (?): not a happy ending (but maybe this is part one), canon level gore, reader breaks a promise, fake identity that’s barely used, steve becomes a real estate agent

wc: 3.1k

— ˚✧₊⁎ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Hawkins, Indiana - April 13th, 1985. 

“I win.” You say, shoving your empty plastic blue tile holder towards Steve; his two tile holders are both filled to the brim with cream colored Rummikub tiles. 

“You only play this game because you know I’m bad at it.” Steve sighs as he dumps his tiles back into the game’s packaging. 

“You’re only bad at it because you treat this game like it’s time based.” You scoff out with a heatless eye roll before helping him pack up the rest of the tiles. “It’s okay. Someday you’ll be as good as me.” You say, shoulders shrugging softly before you peck a quick kiss to his cheek. 

You stand up from the place on your apartment’s floor, and pick the Rummikub box up off the coffee table. You take it to the miniscule linen closet and put it next to your 3 other board games. Since it’s your apartment, you’ve bought the board games you’re best at. 

You and Steve Harrington have somewhat similar backgrounds. His parents are home more often than yours are, which says something. Your parents are Travel nurses, so it’s common for you guys to only stay places for a couple weeks at a time. 

With you still being in school, however… They’ve left you home all by your little lonesome since you were about 16. So, you’ve lived in a flat on the outskirt of Hawkins for about that long while your parents go and take care of people across the state, the country, whatever. 

When you’ve turned 18, the apartment transfers into your name and you're responsible for the rent and utility bills. For now, you and Steve play house while they’re away. 

“So, what sounds good for dinner? I think I have another few boxes of Noodle-Roni. We could make that.” You posit. 

“Yeah, I could eat that.” Steve says simply, going to sit at the kitchen island. Usually you’re the one to cook. Steve isn’t very great at making things that don’t require a microwave. He’s still bummed about not getting into any college, or tech school that he applied to. It’s difficult.

His dad has been on his ass about not getting in anywhere, from what he’s told you. You genuinely feel bad for him, you know the feeling of being let down, you can also understand his anxiety of not knowing what the next step is. 

You make dinner that night and reassure him to the best of your ability. You know his mother has always been kinder than his father. Maybe she’ll let him join the real estate firm, you try to tell him. 

—-

Outskirts of Hawkins, Indiana - Jul. 5 - 3:13 AM

You’ve been up for the past 22 hours. Steve has been totally no contact, for seemingly no reason. You had both left for work the previous morning, and he never came home. 

You know that while it makes money, scooping ice cream at the mall is not that demanding of a job. You don’t think it’s to the point where he would go completely AWOL. You’ve recently been informed about what the Upside Down is, and you're not completely sure it’s real. 

But, you’ve also stored the tidbit that you can’t dream of things you’ve never seen before in the back of your mind since you’ve learned it. You don’t think that the night terrors that Steve has acquired could have emerged from his everyday life.

You’re outside on the back porch, watching the last of the fireworks from the night. Each explosion makes your flinch and blind hard, but the explosion of lights in the sky are too vibrantly addicting to go back to bed. It doesn’t help that your missing boyfriend has you anxious to the point of losing sleep. Well, it hasn’t been a full 48 hours, you think, so you can’t file a report quite yet. 

You’ve at least put your pajamas on and washed your makeup off. You figure that if you get ready for bed, soon enough your body will crave it. The nicotine and heat from the cigarettes disproves that theory, but you just need him to be home

When you’re close to tears, that’s when the landline rings. You don’t even bother fully ashing your cigarette, you just set it in the ashtray for it to finish burning. 

You rush to the handset on the wall and bring the receiver to your face, smushing the bright red plastic to your cheek, hoping for something. Anything. 

“[Y/N]?” You hear a familiar voice croak down the line. Oh, you could punch him. 

“Steve? Is that you? Are you okay? Where are you? I’ll pick you up.” You say through the phone. You try not to let your voice shake. You know that your concern is tangible. It tastes like tobacco. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me. Um.. I’m at Starcourt. I don’t think I should drive.” You hear it come through the phone. You’re already grabbing your purse off of the stool and nodding. He’s slurring his words which usually means one of two things, but you don’t think he’s drunk.

He's different when he is. You figure he’s gotten beat up again (which feels worse than him being drunk), and this is his first chance to get to a payphone. You sigh. “Yeah, no problem, Steve. I’ll be there in a bit. You better explain to me what happened.” You say before placing the phone in the cradle and rushing out the door. 

– 

Starcourt Mall, Indiana - 3:32 AM

You definitely broke some traffic laws to get here, but that doesn’t matter. There was barely anyone on the roads anyways. 

You park haphazardly in the parking lot. Your car isn’t even in a parking space, and the engine is practically still running as you grab your everything. Purse, keys, etcetera. You throw your car door open and stand, looking across the carpark and smelling the oppressive weight of the smoke. 

You look at the blinding, flashing lights of different emergency service vehicles until you spot Steve. Half of his face is swollen, beaten. This is worse than Jonathan, bordering on worse than Billy. You slam your car door shut with more force than you’ve ever used before as you sprint towards him, sitting at the end of an ambulance. 

Once you're in front of him, you have your arms tightly around him. He smells of sick, blood, and sweat. Very little hints of his shampoo and cologne are left behind under his pungent smells, but he’s here. At least he’s in your arms. 

You only shed a few tears, the nauseatingly sick feeling in your stomach neither worsening or abating. You have no idea what’s been done to him, and you don’t know how he feels. All you can keep doing is holding him, and rubbing into his back gently. 

You finally pull back and wipe your eyes, checking him over. You frown at the sight of the swollen half of his face. You flash his coworker a soft smile and wave, as composed as you can manage before doing a more thorough checkover. You stroke the sides of his neck gently, your thumbs stuttering at the feeling of the injection mark. 

“Are you ready to go home?” You ask. You don’t know where else he’d want to go, but you feel he’s probably been dragged through enough crock loads of shit in the past few days. You just want to make sure that he’ll be okay. 

“Yeah, Mhm.” He sounds. You give him your hands to help him as he hops down from the edge of the rig, and you rub his arm. You miss the way hair lined his arms. You smooth the frazzled strands out before looking in between him and his coworker. 

“Do you need a ride home?” You ask her softly. You know that you’re probably not leading with the best impression right now, and you don’t know her, but you also don’t know how she’s getting home tonight. 

– 

ɐuɐᴉpuI 'suᴉʞʍɐH - Feb. 25, 1987 

“You have to go, Steve. You need to keep them safe and you know I can’t–”

“Stop that. Stop it, because you know I won’t, and… and I can’t.” 

“Steve, I promise. I promise I will hold this down, and not do anything drastic or.. or unexpected. You can come back, and everything. You have to get the kids through that gate and onto home ground, and then you can come right back here.” You plead. You don’t make promises you don’t think you can keep. 

He gives you a dismayed look, but this time it’s genuine. You know the expression all too well. Brows pinched and jaw slightly slack, but mainly in situations where you've decided to tease him, or something of the sort. You give him a peck on the cheek, albeit guilty, before running towards the danger. Before the very thing that has been targeting Hawkins for the past. Too long. All you needed to do was keep it waiting, but focused.  

A loose cannon, aren’t you? 

It hadn’t even been 15 minutes that Steve was gone. He ran back to the rendezvous spot to find it empty. Concrete-esque flooring, with occasional meaty vines strewn about. You and the older chapter of the Party had deemed it the safer part of the Upside Down last spring. 

But you’re not where you agreed. Steve knows you wouldn’t just run off for the hell of it. His brain automatically seems to figure out what happened, and it’s the worst possible answer. Either way, he’s come to realize that you're gone. Permanently. 

He heavily considers staying down here and meeting your assumed fate as well, but he knows he can’t. He has people to please, but he doesn’t know how he’s going to upkeep all of it. He thinks he can. 

He meets Robin and the Party at the gate alone. 

—-

Hawkins Laboratory, Indiana - Mar. 8, 1987

You’d finally been pulled out of the upside down a week ago. You’d been hospitalized on some different floor of the lab, rehabilitated to a functioning member of society (kind of), and now you're sitting in front of some government officials, signing papers that say your existence in Hawkins never happened.

“Quick question, if I can?” You ask one of the men. Both are dressed in crisp suits, white collars buttoned to the top and the black tie nice and flush to the crease.

“Of course, ma’am.” 

“Something similar to this happened a few years back, as I’m sure you know. But.. with that kid.. You guys just said the body was incorrectly identified. Why can’t you do that with my situation as well?” You ask softly, placing your hand under your chin as you look at the manilla folders strewn about the desk. 

“Your situation is a little different than his, and also having the federal government incorrectly identify two bodies in the same small town in a 4 and a half year time frame could get some eyebrows raised. It’s better if we do it this way.” He explains calmly, sliding a cream colored folder right in front of you. There’s a name type-written on the top, and it’s definitely not yours. 

SMITH, CHRISTINE.

Fitting for your birth year, but not much else. They’ve given you a backstory to memorize by 5 P.M. tonight before they transport you to Nevada. In the meantime, they’ve retaken everything. License photo, passport photo, even a photo ID and resume for the job you're supposed to have come next week. It’s all a lot. 

—-

It’s odd, really. To think of seeing you again. Steve had thought it to be impossible. Every time he had thought the opposite, he had to remind himself that; that’s grief. It can do crazy things to a person. 

He saw how Joyce acted in 1983, nobody in Hawkins could have missed it. But after losing you, he understands her. He hates to say it, or to think it, but she was lucky. Will came back, and the Byers were able to move away from Hawkins. Away from flesh eating underground beasts. 

There are so many explanations that have run through his brain, to try and explain as to why you're not here anymore. For a while, he figured that the 3 TBIs were starting to catch up to him; make him think incredulous thoughts to explain why you weren’t (or were) in front of him.

Now there’s no sign of you. A nice funeral was hosted, talking about your different accomplishments, your life. There's a thick gravestone with your name, birthday, and assumed death date on it in the cemetery 2 miles east of Hawkin’s Memorial Hospital. Steve used to visit there a lot.

Your car was impounded a week after, your apartment was cleaned by state workers. Everything you owned is now in a GoodWill a town over. 

—

Reno, Nevada - Aug. 23, 1997

Southwestern summers have always been sweltering, for as long as you’ve lived here. You shove the gas nozzle into your car, and squint away from the blaring sun. You drive a measly car, a 1989 Toyota Corolla. Lamest car on the market, you’ve always thought.

Over the last 10 years, you’ve grown accustomed to being quiet, timid, secretary Christine. You rarely bat an eye when some character on TV says your name, or if it’s brought up elsewhere. It’s easy ‘cos you don’t know anyone here that could say your name in an intimate way. 

You watch as a newer model car pulls up to the gas stall next to you. You see a bumper sticker with Harrington Real Estate inscribed in black, bold letters plastered on to a side window. Hm. 

You don’t bat an eye. You’ve gotten good at that. Every time you think of Steve, it doesn’t end well. You feel a gaping hole open in your chest and then it’s hard to remember much past that.  Usually there’s some kind of intoxication involved, and considering that you’re just trying to get gas and then get home, it’s not an option tonight.

From what you remember, Steve, while the love of your life, isn’t the brightest bulb in the shed, you fear. You’ve changed since you were 20 years old, as he has, so you hope he doesn’t stare at you too hard. You hear the sound of both the driver side door open, and the passenger side door open. You get a glimpse of a woman with mousy brown hair that falls to her collarbones, a fringe, a toothy grin when she wants it, and bright blue eyes. 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that they’re together. But, you know it’s an aged Robin. Now, you know you’re a little more screwed because she’s a tad more perceptive. Way more perceptive, actually. 

You feel 4 eyes boring into your skull, and you try to pay no mind to any of them. You pull the sunglasses off of the top of your head and rest them on the bridge of your nose with shaky fingers. You can hear Robin pull Steve aside, making him lock the gas nozzle in place before leading him into the gas station. 

Your tank finishes filling shortly thereafter. You put the nozzle back in place and realize that you have twelve dollars and sixteen cents in change. That’s enough for basically 4 boxes of Marlboro Reds, minus tax. You’re running low, anyways. You take the receipt from the gas pump and make your way inside of the convenience store portion of the Chevron. 

As you walk into the small shop, you place your sunglasses back on your head then, voices carry. 

“Do you seriously think that was her?” A deeper, hushed voice asks. You can hear them perusing the candy aisle. 

“You know I wouldn’t throw the idea around lightly.” The female voice defends. “I mean, you know how you were after her… death? Can we even call it that now? It’s officially named the situation, now. Back to the point, you were a flaming hot mess.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know that, Robin. That’s why.. I don’t know. It’d be awful to get my hopes up.” Steve says, closer to the cashier. 

“And then, could I get four boxes of Marlboro Reds? Please.” You say kindly to the attendant, who still has your cash in his hand.

He gives you a morose response as he grabs the proclaimed boxes. You fidget with the fancy ‘C’ initial necklace resting in between your collar bones, watching as he places them in a frail plastic bag. 

Once the plastic is looped over your fingers, you turn around to see him, and her standing right in front of you. You made eye contact with shocked brown eyes, then the blue ones.

This feels tortuous. You give him a small smile, like he’s a new person in town. A passerby. It makes you nauseous, teary, all of the above. 

Fuck.

But, the government made it a huge deal that nobody could know what happened. Not a soul, no matter who could figure what out. 

You give them a soft smile, like you don’t know them, and make your way out to your car. Would the government even know if you had one conversation with them? A final goodbye? Some closure? You don’t know, and no matter how bad you want to, you can’t dote. 

You push the glass door open as fast as you can, and your stomach only drops further when you don’t hear it close behind you. 

“Ma’am?” You hear a familiar voice call from the light grey concrete in front of the door. You’re the only woman out there, you know this gas station doesn’t have cameras (and if it does, fuck it), so you have to spin on your heel. 

You face the man you’ve been pushed away from, and you see him eye to eye. You don’t know how to explain to him what happened, because you know you can’t. “Yes?”

“You… look like an old friend of mine.” Steve states, hand in his jean pocket. 

“Do I?” 

“Yeah.” He says with a nod. You can’t tell if the purse of his lips is pissed off or disappointed. 

“That’s interesting.” You say, painstakingly slow as you step towards your car. “You gotta name?”

“...Steven.” 

“Well, Steve,” his name feels so familiar on your tongue. Something like a meal from his pantry. “I hope you find your friend. I bet she misses you.” 

“I’m expanding my business out here to Reno.” He says, a suave shake of his head. You watch as he pulls a slip of bright white cardstock from his wallet. “If you’re ever interested in selling your home… Call me.” He mutters. You take the business card and pocket it. 

“You got it. I’ll let you know.” You say as you rest your elbow on the top of your car. 

“Have a good evening.” 

You climb into your car that you hate, and drive back home. You cry the entire way. 

[youngpettyqueen]

Miles calling Julian 'Jules' one (1) time is probably a writing fuck up and yet it lives rent free in my head 24/7 and its gotten to the point where I do need to write a super niche fic about my hyper specific headcanons about how that comes about that maybe 2 other people would read

I have visions of a Rascals-esque episode where Julian gets de-aged due to a time anomaly or some fuckshit but unlike Rascals Julian is just fully a 5 year old. no memories of his adulthood or anything. pre-augmentations, pre-enhancements, pre-everything little Jules Bashir is now on the station and they've gotta deal with it. and I mean, who better to care for Jules than Miles and Keiko- who are both very good parents, and also they've dealt with this sort of thing before

this entire thing is self-indulgent on every level because I want an excuse to get into my really specific headcanons with Julian and disability. like we know I hc Julian as being audhd. but as a kid, as Jules, I think he was non-verbal. I also think he had dyspraxia. he doesnt name anything when he talks about what he was like pre-augmentations, he keeps it vague, and leaning into that I think Miles would only have a vague idea of what to expect when interacting with Jules, and he finds himself completely unprepared for what Jules is actually like. and also trans Julian supremacy and I dont think he really tells people he's trans so Miles is also not expecting Jules to be a 5 year old girl

I imagine Miles is maybe expecting Jules to be very similar to Julian and to be very chatty and extroverted, but more awkward, and maybe just not understanding a lot of things. instead, Jules doesnt speak beyond a few words and vocalizations. she moves constantly, but its mostly fidgeting and stimming- she doesnt like to walk, and shes very clumsy and bumps into things and falls down a lot. Miles and Keiko spend most of the time carrying her around on their hips, like they would Molly. she doesnt like being around lots of people, and is very easily overwhelmed. they figure out very quickly that shes a very good hider, because she scares the absolute shit out of them when she takes off and it takes a solid 3 hours to find her

they do figure things out pretty quickly. she gets overwhelmed by noise easily, so Miles has some headphones replicated for her- smaller versions of the ones he has for ear protection. Jules communicates mostly through body language, pointing at things and smacking things and grunting a lot, but they cant figure out what she means. Keiko roots through her old school supplies and gets Jadzia to turn a PADD into a communication device. Jules absolutely fucking LOOOOVES the PADD and they make a strap for it so that she can carry it everywhere. turns out shes very inquisitive- shes constantly using the PADD to ask 'whats that? what's that? what's that?' about basically everything

the thing they have the hardest time with is that things dont stick easily for Jules. Miles and Keiko are answering the same questions over and over, but she just cant retain a lot of what shes taught. she gets things mixed up a lot, and is confused easily. she cant read at all and has a hard time figuring out what pictures are depicting. the PADD is very helpful, but also very basic with visuals, because Jules just cant comprehend words or more complex visuals. she gets frustrated really easily and cries, and its really hard to calm her down. she has a lot of sensory issues and cant communicate exactly what upsets her about how things feel, leading to a lot of trial and error, and several thrown utensils and spilled plates and bowls

still, Miles and Keiko handle it all. Jules feels safest with Miles and clings to him a lot. he does a lot of his work during this time with Jules in one arm, her headphones on, big curious eyes watching him work. but, in the evenings, when Jules is tired, she curls up close to Keiko on the couch, and Keiko strokes her short hair, while Jules runs her hands over the soft material of Keiko's skirt. Jules and Molly get along- they dont play together, but Molly will read little stories to Jules, and makes silly voices that make Jules laugh. Jules is so gentle with Kirayoshi- she won't hold him, but she gently strokes his hair, and hums at him, and Keiko recognizes the lullaby shes trying to echo

sure, she isnt the easiest child. but at the end of the day, accommodating her isnt the hardest thing Miles and Keiko have ever done. Miles thinks back to how Julian described himself as a kid, thinks about the fuss his parents made about how they couldnt deal with the guilt and heartbreak of watching their child fall behind. he thinks of after that, Julian quietly wondering if maybe his parents were just trying to make things easier for him. maybe they did have good intentions. he's wondered the same thing himself. maybe in their own way, they thought they were doing the right thing

he's thinking about this while he's holding Jules, curled up against him and asleep. he's barely slept these last few days, he's about at wit's end trying to handle all of this, he misses his Julian and he wants him back. but when he looks at Jules, theres no resentment. he isnt even annoyed. she drives him up a wall, but shes a kid- thats her job in life. as for the cognitive piece, well. they can figure all that out if they need to. he laughs at himself a bit- thinking ahead about Jules' future already, those dad instincts kicking in. doesnt hurt to be prepared, he tells himself. just in case

it occurs to him, as he's dozing off himself, that genetic enhancement and DNA re-sequencing dont cross his mind. not once. and when he looks at Jules with tired eyes, feels the peaceful rise and fall of her back under his hand, he finds that he cant imagine himself doing it. cant imagine taking this child in, and telling people how to cut and paste and re-arrange her DNA. he cant imagine wanting to make her into anything but the child she already is. he cant imagine thinking that she was so difficult, so far behind, that she had to be changed into an entirely different person. he loves Julian, he wouldnt change Julian for anything, but he finds himself loving Jules, too. he wouldnt change her, either. not a single thing

Keiko sees the anger behind his eyes when they put Jules to bed for the night. she asks him about it after they shut the door. Miles stands at the door for a moment, thinking about that little kid inside that he cant save from what's to come. and he just tells Keiko- "Richard and Amsha Bashir can go to hell."