#i just feel weird. not in a bad way though? i think?

[superhoeva]

𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 – 𝐦. 𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 (𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭; +𝟏𝟖) | what a fucking delight it was to write this, as someone who has a big fat crush on this ^ man right here and as someone who is also a lifelong steeler fan. this one goes out to @ovaryacted (who pretty much beta-ed the first handful of pages for this), @heavenbarnes (who maybe might have been bitten by the robby bug?? no pressure to read babes), @jackabbotsfakeleg (who is the first fellow steelers fan i found on tumblr; this team is my doom but i love them!), plus all the robby fiends

warning(s) include language, inappropriate relations (?),age gap (reader is 25ish/2nd year med student, while robby is pushing 50), he fell first and harder, sexual tension, reader is a steelers fan and from pittsburgh, (american) football talk, baltimore ravens trashing, injury (mentioned), smut, penetrative sex (p in v), oral sex (f receiving), handjob, nipple play, bodily fluids, big dick/down bad!robby, special appearance at the end; she's thick, guys... sitting at 5.2k words!

Medical school lecture halls are just as chilly as Robby remembers.

The air feels a little less clean, a little more human, but still. There’s a nip to the air that takes him back to his Monday-Wednesday-Friday EMED 851 lecture. Part of him wishes he had worn one of his hoodies, though that would look a little weird with the button-up and slacks he has on. The light blue–cornflower, the tag reads–top and black bottoms feel odd, tugging at Robby’s skin in a way that his scrubs and cargos don’t.

There’s a wide array of students scattered across the seats of the room. To his surprise, most of them listen to him ramble about airways with attentive eyes and scribble down whatever they can catch. Good. That means that they’re maybe halfway serious about this shit, which earns them 2% of the qualification needed to work in emergency medicine.

Other than a lull of awkward silence at the very beginning plus a few verbal stumbles in the form of curses that cause the class to giggle while he apologizes and gathers himself, the doctor is pretty solid. 

There’s only one other time he flounders, if he should even call it that. It was more of an unforeseen pause. Nothing more than the tick of a few seconds when his eyes lock with yours for the first time today.

You’re already staring in his direction, waiting for him to finish the word that collapses surprisingly easy on his lips at the sight of you. He blinks, a strange flush ricocheting across the skin of his face when you blink at him, even throwing in a little grin just as he snatches back his composure with a distracted um.

The shirt you’re wearing is nice. Simple and fitted. Cap sleeves stop right below your shoulder and reveal intricate lines of ink that swirl back under the fabric in loops that make Robby wonder more than he should. You’re wearing shorts, too. Huh. He’d have half a mind to question how your exposed legs bear the nippy air of the hall, but it doesn’t matter. You make it work–and well–the material cutting off just a little higher than he initially realized.

Zipping his eyes back up to yours, he warms at how you’re picking at your bottom lip; your other hand now using your pen to write down something you remember him saying a few moments earlier.

Covering his gulp with a fast wipe at his beard, Robby somehow finds a way to push out the words that have been stuck in his throat for what feels like longer than the brisk five seconds that have passed since he spoke last.

His head tilts, barely, and his lips twitch into a small smile, dragging his stare from you to the carpet beneath him so he can speak again. Robby plays off the mistake as him thinking–about the question itself and not how you are unmistakably the prettiest thing in this room.

Eleven. That’s how many times he glances at you between then and the end of his lecture. The first three times were a genuine accident, and boy, did they feel like one. Goosebumps flutter across the back of his neck, which he’s rubbed enough times that some of the students probably think there’s something wrong with the tendons there. Robby almost agrees, with the way they keep allowing him to swivel and study you.

The more it happens, the oops of peeking at you, the longer it takes for him to look away. By the end of his knowledge-packed but run-on sentence answers, Robby’s stare cements to you. You’re nodding, legs crossed, and unintentionally drawing patterns with the pad of your finger across the skin of your thigh. For some reason, he’s fairly confident in the fact that you probably don’t even realize you’re doing it.

“Any more questions for Dr. Robinavitch?”

Dr. Robinavitch. Professors, man.

Robby doesn’t try to stop himself from glimpsing in your vicinity. Not right at you but close, so his peripheral can catch any possible movement of your hand raising. His eyes burn with an unsettling eagerness while he waits for something to happen. What the fuck is wrong with him? What the fuck is wrong with you for wearing shorts that fit that well even while you’re sitting?

Your hand stays where it is, arm propped against the side of your seat, fingers fiddling with the pen he can tell you’re trying not to click. The small pang of disappointment that rises inside him squashes away in seconds, and he prays that his ears don’t start to hue red after you hold his stare the longest you have for the entire class.

Looking at him through your lashes, you wait. And wait… and wait. A smirk barely ghosts across your mouth, and Robby rips away his stare. Throat bobbing while he swallows, blinking faster than he means to, he looks to the professor.

“Think they’re ready to kick me out, Dr. Hummel. I’ve probably rambled for long enough, yeah?” Robby shrugs. A sheepish smile warms his face when the room echoes with a healthy applause, and Robby almost recoils at the sound. There’s no way Hummel didn’t tell them to do that. And all he can do is stand and take it, hands tucked into his pockets, his thanks an awkward nod and embarrassed grimace-flavored grin.

Robby tries not to blush when he spots you clapping along with everyone else. He tucks his chin, feeling a little silly with how satisfying it feels to know he’s spoken well enough for you to show some appreciation. Or maybe you’re just doing it to be nice. Either way, you’re making the attending pinker than usual.

Class wraps in a daze.

Dr. Hummel leaves Robby lingering to the side, a wave of shuffling backpacks and zippers echoes throughout the hall. There’s a reminder announcement about a research paper due two weeks from today… or is it a presentation? Robby doesn’t listen hard enough to verify.

A sprinkle of pupils, glowing with a luster that only presents itself after their final class of the week concludes, come up to formally greet Robby. All with names he’ll try to remember but won’t. Bright-eyed and buzzing more than he thinks one would be after an hour and a half long lecture on airways, but hey. He appreciates the eagerness, even if it’s a little much.

Doing his best to be polite, Robby tries to seem as if he’s actively listening–nodding, humming, and throwing in a smile for good measure. He catches a few of the words being smattered his way, but he’s already forgotten them by the time the students leave him be. A sigh of relief sinks out of his nose when he turns his head to find you still in the room, only just now standing from your chair and sliding a thick notebook into your bag.

A line of spit gets caught in his throat when he sees you adjust your shorts, subtly tugging at where they’ve ridden up in between the warmth of your thighs–warmth of your thighs? Fuck, Michael, get it the hell together.

Robby coughs loudly into the crook of his elbow before pivoting to find you gliding his way. His heart jumps as you head right for the man, and his mind races to search for something to say. Hi? Nice to meet you? I really like those shorts?

His mouth opens to speak, though he quickly settles it into a kind grin as you scoot past him with a smile of your own.

“S’cuse me,” you pronounce gently, and Robby’s throat bobs.

“Of course,” he nods, voice huskier than he means for it to be as he takes a polite step to the side. You gift him one last breath-snatching smile before floating out of the hall without a second look. A long hum seeps from Robby, his fingers reaching to scrape at the nape of his neck.

Fuck, he needs to change out of these clothes… and maybe receive a beating of some kind for how long he let himself gawk at your ass just now.

Unfortunately, Robby doesn’t find the courage to ask anyone to smack him across the face the entire walk to his car. He does, however, have enough sense to unfasten the button that’s been digging into his skin since he threw on the shirt.

The man could cry happy tears when he pulls into the Panera Bread parking lot to find it close to empty. Surprising, considering that it’s the middle of the day on the UPMC campus but hey. He’s not complaining. The less college students in line between him and his overpriced iced green tea and tomato basil BLT, the better. In fact, he might splurge and go for a brownie, too… maybe that’ll clear the fog you’ve spelled him under.

His mind wandered for the whole ride over–swirling with blurry images of you and tingling with unanswered questions. Robby even stumbles through his order a few times, though the embarrassment over that is briskly wiped away when he turns his head to find you sitting at one of the tables.

Of course, you’re here.

Of course, you’re here and snacking on chocolate croissants and sipping coffee while reading off the screen of your laptop with the most delightful expression of intrigue he’s ever seen.

You aren’t real… you can’t be because only dreams are this coincidental.

Teeth grinding, Robby scans the area around you. Empty, other than an older man stirring his tomato soup and a mother and daughter sharing a frosted cookie with a pair of soft smiles. Robby’s eyes crinkle at the sight, shifting in his place at the counter in deep thought.

He guesses it’ll be a short wait for his food, as it always is. Then all he needs to do is fill his cup at the machine, wait for his number to be called and he’s home free… no matter how tempting it would be to tip over your way and say a quick hello. There’s a voice in the back of his head chanting for him to swallow the nerves and fucking do it, yet he still isn’t sure what’d he start with. What do you say to a young woman you’re certain will haunt you for the rest of you life–

“Dr. Robinavitch? Hi…”

It takes Robby a second to look at you. Even without, an odd feeling tightens Robby’s chest. He finally turns, swallowing through a tickle in his throat, just barely blinking away how his eyes try to water as you approach him carefully. Dear lord, someone please help him–your voice. All you’ve said is his name and a simple, normal hello yet he’s already turning into a puddle of nothing.

“Oh, please. Everyone just calls me Robby,” he holds his hand out for you to shake but regrets it immediately at the spark that ignites when your palms touch. Clenching his teeth at the feeling, Robby masks his tight jaw with a warm smile. “You were just in my lecture, if I remember correctly.”

Robby feels dumb when he tags on the question at the end. There’s no doubt surrounding whether he’s remembering correctly, as he’ll never forget you or those shorts even if he were to try.

“Yeah, for Hummel’s class. I’m actually glad I ran into you again. I really enjoyed you coming to talk to us today. And I’m sorry, I feel like I should’ve said something before leaving class but I couldn’t think of any cool questions to ask you afterwards but, uh, yeah. Having an actual attending from an ED come to talk to you about using a mac versus a miller is much more pleasing than reading about it in some textbook at three in the morning.”

A small chuckle lightens his face. “That’s very kind of you, ‘m glad you liked it. Is ED your main interest?”

“One-hundred percent. I mean, I won’t even start my rotations for another year but that’s definitely the end goal.” 

“Well, good. That’s good, um… sorry, one sec,” Robby’s cut off by the calling of his number, but raises a gentle hand with a pleasant smile in hopes that you’ll stay put. He mumbles a small thank you to the worker that slides him his bag, turning back to you with a lick to his lips. “Like I was saying, that’s great. We could always use more people like you in the ED.”

Wait. Shit. People like you? The man hasn’t even known you for that long and has talked to you for even less. He finds himself lucky when you decide not to think about the statement as hard as he does, accepting the compliment with a small grin.

“I appreciate that, Robby. Hopefully at least one of my clinicals ends up being in The Pitt. I can’t even imagine all the things I’d learn as your MS considering that all it took was a class of you speaking for me to fill up two pages of notes.”

Is he as red as he feels?

“Ah, hearing that, I’m sure you’d fit right in wherever you end up. Secretly kinda hoping it is in my ED at some point, though.” And not just because you’re a knockout and a half. “Just over the short time I’ve talked to you, you seem stellar. Good listener, pretty, cares about the details.”

Wait. Shit, that second one is a slip and much too obvious to just glaze over like his last one. You’re blinking at him in a way that itches his insides, and he exhales a rough breath. Shaking his head, he dips his nose in an embarrassed hang of his head.

“‘M sorry,” he starts with a breathy laugh because it’s all he can do. “That wasn’t appropriate of me, I’m sorry. Your good looks have nothin’ to do with your abilities.”

Suddenly, it feels like karma is having its way with Robby. Was there a door he should’ve held but didn’t? A thank you he forgot to tell someone? There must be because he’s usually quicker to control himself around someone that’s piqued his interests as much as you have.

When he tilts his gaze back to you, there’s something in your face hinting at something he doesn’t let himself attempt to decrypt.

“Jeez, I’m really eatin’ it today, aren’t I,” Robby squirms with a sheepish smile. “And that feels like my cue to leave you to you’re studying before I am forced to have you gag me.”

“Oh, I’m not studying. I mean, I should be but your answer to that one question Jeremiah asked has me knee deep in an article about the history of clinical airway management. Also, I didn’t take you to be into that kinda stuff, but I’ll make sure to be gentle if you really want me to.” 

Brow line raising in a flutter of rousing excitement, Robby allows himself a full grin. You match the toothy-smile, leaning with something that looks like anticipation with another wring of your hands.

What a well-dressed, witty, gorgeous geek you’re proving yourself to be.

“I, uh, I actually know of a few other studies you might be interested in,” Robby suggests, a wave of poise centering his thoughts and reprioritizing his intentions. “...if you've got the time?”

The next sixty-ish minutes pass devastatingly fast. A few more people have populated the Panera dining room but Robby’s too high on your presence and one and a half cups of iced green tea to care.

“You’re making this up, you gotta be.”

“I swear, Robby,” you hold up your hands. “I will admit, losing to the ratbirds–at home, in OT–does tend to cloud one's judegment, but enough to think they have the upperhand against a metal lightpost? All Dad saw was red and I ended up waiting in the ER with him while he waited to get his fingers re-set. We we’re at chairs for a while and then brought to the back, and the thing I remember the most was this hum hanging in the air the entire time. Even though I was only around five, that shit was… addicting. Not as electric as a Steelers home game but pretty close. The nurse and my dad kept having to tell me to stay behind the curtain but, of course, I didn’t. ‘Cause, you know. Children. But watching all those people come in broken just to have people like you give their everything to try and fix them… that’s when I knew I wanted to be an emergency physician.”

The corner of Robby’s lips quirks up as he watches you. You stare back at him with held breath before ripping your eyes away to the half-eaten piece of brownie he’d offered you. A little dry but completely worth it with how your hands brushed when he passed you the sweet.

“So basically what I’m hearing is that the Baltimore Ravens are the reason you were able to find your purpose in life so early on…” Robby eases out, rubbing a hand across his beard in anticipation of the response he’s fishing for. He gets it and more when your face wrinkles into a cute grimace and you flinch with a shudder.

“You put it that way, and it almost makes me think I should drop outta med school to move to Canada.”

Your words pull a deep chuckle from Robby, who’s feeling warm at how the two of you are leaning and talking. Bodies relaxed and bellies content with sandwiches and baked goods, the dance you’re both performing is becoming more difficult by the second.

He’s starting to feel less and less sorry about how the side of his shoe keeps knocking against yours, even doing it once on purpose as a thanks for when you notify him of a loose crumb in his beard. The tips of your fingers keep creeping towards each other but Robby blames that on the smaller scale of the table he’s joined you at. You got up, once, for napkins and the man had to take in a deep breath at the swing of your hips. He’s not  sure he looked away fast enough either. At least, that’s what the smirk that dashes across your face reveals to him.

“So,” Robby starts after a comfortable lull in the conversation, pausing to clear his throat. “Are all of Hummel’s students this awesome or did I just get lucky runnin’ into you again?”

Flattery. The age old tactic and Robby makes sure not to lay it on too thick. In all of his bumbling and slip ups from earlier, he’s maganed to regain some of his bravado. It returns to him slowly but surely as he starts to unravel you. Not by much but enough to finger out what makes you tick; which jokes to draw out, what subjects (medical or otherwise) gets you going, which throw of his timbre embellishes the shine in your eyes.

“Mm, most of them are pretty cool. Some are also the biggest assholes you’ll ever meet but what’s any place without a few of those?”

“Heaven,” Robby answers with an unbothered shrug of his shoulders and you bob your head in agreement.

“Preach,” you grin, popping a corner of brownie into your mouth. “They were on their best behavior today with you being there but trust me, they’re incapable of going twenty four hours without creaming their pants over making other people feel like shit.”

Wow. “Oh, yeah?”

“For sure. Dr. Hummel should have you come around more often, though. Maybe next time you can snap a few egos in check.”

You’re into whatever this is, Robby can feel it. It’s in your eyes, that don’t notice their lingering on the hair that’s peeking out at the top of his exposed chest. In your voice, that’s lilting in a manner that’s ringing through the thick fog he entered the building with to guide his ship closer to your sweet taunt.

Robby’s quicker than the hesitation his words want to bite back on, tilting his head to give you a quick once over before flicking them away with a grin that’s smugger than he means for it to be.

“Oh, that’s definitely something I’d consider as long as you're still sittin’ front row.”

Your lips curl upwards and Robby is buzzing at the win. It makes his chest puff a little, too, and his head starts to feel a little funny when he catches you staring again.

“Hey, uh,” just do it, Rob, “why don’t we exhancge numbers? You know, in case you ever feel like conversing more over slightly-stale bread and the best passion papaya iced green tea on this side of the Mississippi.”

Taking a second to think, you sniff.

“While I have had better passion… papaya iced green tea–” you recite the words with a subtle unsureness, laughing a little at the nod Robby encourages you with.

“You got it,” he reassures you, voice rasping with obvious amusement before letting you continue.

“–I’d love to keep picking your brain. I will warn you, though, since the age of eleven, I have somehow managed to, uh, shift every conversation I’ve been a part of to the topic of the Pittsburgh Steelers at some point, so if that’s not your thing, then…”

Your words melt into a stronger laugh than you expected to leave you, and it wraps arround the high-pitched giggle trickles out of Robby.

“Oh, I’ve dealt with worse, sweetheart,” he winks, pulling out his phone from his back pocket and opening it before sliding it your way. He holds his breath the entire time you add your contact, eyes flicking to his screen where he sees your name along with a simple :). He huffs at the sight, plucking the device back into his grip. “Much, much worse.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

You add a smirk and tip of your head with the question. Robby’s soaring.

The following hours prove to be just as indelible as your shorts, and it’s all because of you.

You’re more than special, and Robby sits undisputed in that fact as he commences the third round of the night. The slide into you is just as good as the first and the second. You’re on top this time, your hands clutching his face to rub at the thick of his beard while you sink down onto him.

Robby holds your waist, hands light but still there as he splits you open. A noise breaks from his throat when you sit fully, and he rests his forehead against yours. While you take a second to adjust, Robby peeks down past the pudge of his belly to where the two of you meet, groaning at the sight of you stretcehed around him.

Eyes flicking to yours, Robby tightens the arm he has around your waist to tug you until your breasts are flush against his chest. You cling to him at the shift, hips barely lifting before collapsing back down onto him with a shuggering grunt.

Your body keeps the same languid speed, Robby helping you just barely with a hand splayed just above your ass.

“Fuck, you’re so deep,” you pant out against his mouth. “And fucking huge. I should’ve known considering how you walked into class earlier, though.”

“Shit,” Robby moans. “Really?”

You bob your head, hand reaching to grab at Robby’s shoulder. The muscle holds strong under your squeeze, you answer him during another rock of your hips.

“Mmhm. You just… oh, fuck, you walk like it’s big. Which it totally is, by the way.”

“So you’ve said,” Robby ribs, adding a few bucks of his hips that yanks a squeak out of you. “Actually screamed it a few times, too.”

“Well, can you blame me–”

You’re interrupted by Robby, who surprises you with a steep roll to the side. Now hanging over you, Robby pants through a groan. He’s gonna feel that tomorrow but the chance of a strained back isn’t gonna stop him from trying to get you to keep making those sounds that have him seeing stars.

He takes the miracle of his cock remaining inside you even after the change of position, hitching both of your legs back as far as they’ll let him and jerking you with a thrust. It’s deep and driving, intentional enough to make you feel every inch and vein of his swollen member. You wail out right next to his ear and he smiles against the tattoo on your shoulder in victory. He still doesn’t know what it is. You won’t tell him and he got tired of guessing.

“No, I can’t,” Robby throws back, hips falling into a pattern of sharp thrusts. You feel bottomless and it makes his stomach clench. “Eyes on me, baby. Right here, okay?

Robby meets your stare as soon as you crack open your lids. He tightens the snap of his hips, allowing himself to indulge. Call it a habit but he likes to look… observe the way your mouth parts as you puff out air every time your clit hits his pelvis… how your brows pinch together and eyes water as he pounds into the spot it only took him a total of seven thrusts to find… how your hands reach for his neck, squeezing when you hear him flutter your name out on a gruttal moan.

You especially like him loud, he’s found. Not bold enough to ask for it, Robby had the pleasure of figuring the phenomenon out on his own. It didn’t take long, thankfully, as he got embarrassingly close to blowing a vocal cord when you tongued at his nipples and skillfully jerked out his cum onto your stomach. Afterwards, his taste buds found your slit a sopping mess of slick and cream, which he slurped away at until you tugged him up by the hair and kissed your juices from his mouth.

The first time he’d fucked you, it was slow. A loitering exploration of every indent and ripple inside your hole, every mole and freckle of your skin. You’d already come once against his tongue after he’d convinced you that no, you were not going to die if he didn’t kiss you right then.

(‘What about her, hm?’ He’d asked with a finger ghosting across your clit. ‘Nothin’ wrong with being a little greedy but I gotta show her some love, too, alright? She’s much too pretty to ignore, even with you givin’ me those eyes…’)

However, it’s the first time you peak around him that the sky parts. Heaven calls, singing songs of eternal delights but Robby declines the offer. His soul finds the symphony of you falling apart much more satisfying. Ever more gratifying, as it’s his name flooding from your lips. Not God’s or some boy in one of your classes in those cold ass rooms–his.

The second time you’d come around him hits both of you like a train. He’d gotten you trapped on your side, leg hanging in the air helplessly. Neck stretching, you’d bit at his tongue a few times when he’d upped the speed of his hips, warning Robby that you were gonna come again. After you added on a whine that you did not want him pulling out when he came, he flipped you into a rough prone bone, pounding you until your pussy creamed with his cum and your ears heard nothing but dial tones.

This time–the third time–Robby lets himself get lost in it. Uses his mind and body for the sole purpose of calling forth and tying your euphoria to his. A perfect ache is throbbing a pulse through his cock, and the man can only plunge himself in and out of you with mindless, hoarse grunts.

Robby executes it flawlessly, the seaming of the end of your climax grazing just over the start of his. You cry out unintelligible words, grabbing at him like he’ll disappear if you don’t and trembling as he works to milk out your release for as long as he can.

“That’s my–fuck… yeah, that’s my sweet girl,” Robby pants, still rocking you as his thrusts melt into a sloppy chasing of his own end. His sweet girl. That’s exactly what you are now, regardless of what happens after this. “Gonna fill you up again. Make you nice and full’a me.”

The only warning Robby’s able to give is a long, choked swear before he starts to spasm, sack twitching as he surges out rope after rope of a plentiful load. He uses a few more thrusts to fuck the cum deeper before joining your lips in a tired kiss. When you run your hands up his back to rake your nails through his hair, Robby groans.

Hips still, his softening cock remains a welcome intrusion. His eyes flicker shut at your appreciated touch across his scalp, the man melts completely into you, hoping it takes a long while for your breaths to return.

Robby’s mind is completely still. Numb, even, and there are only figures of you. Clenching his eyes, he sighs before mumbling something so muffled that he has to repeat it.

“I said,” he begins with a kiss to your jaw, “the Ravens might be my new favorite team.”

Robby feels your inhale pause and lifts his head to look in your eyes. A short laugh wheezes out of him when he finds you already staring back, your face a cross of complete and utter confusion and a little bit of hurt.

“What on earth could have possibly compelled you to say that to me?”

Your question starts strong but falls apart with giggles at how Robby keeps laughing. The two of you shake with stupid giggles, and Robby has to take a second to remember where he was going with this.

“Only ‘cause they led you to me. No Ravens, no angry dad. No angry dad, no ER visit. No ER visit, no grand revelation of wanting to become a doctor in emergency medicine. It’s simple, I’m a little surprised I had to explain it.”

“...you think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“Oh, baby, I know I am.”

“Hello?”

Robby blinks, and wants to glower at the fingers Jack snaps in front of his face until he remembers he’s supposed to be answering something. A question. He’s supposed to be answering a question.

Which question?

Fuck if he knows.

Who asked it?

Fuck if he knows.

It takes every part of Robby’s being to not look to the right because that’s where you’re sitting with a wide smile just barely hidden beneath your palm. Eyes boring into him, you stretch your crossed legs and reposition.

“E-even though that might have looked like a stroke, guys, it was not… I don’t think,” Jack picks up for Robby with a pat to the later man’s shoulder. “It’s actually something we in our profession call getting old, but please don’t worry. I’m going through it, too. Apparently, not as fast as this guy, though.”

The rest of the room lightens with a chuckle so Robby’s laughs along with them. It’s fake and ugly but the pause gives him a chance to zip his eyes your way and back.

And, of course, Jack catches him. Hell, he knows Robby well enough to have already seen the way that his hand clenches into a fist every time you move so much as an inch.

As Dr. Hummel attempts to return order to the slightly distracted class, Jack gives Robby a silent not bad, Rob. At all, though a little more decorum wouldn’t hurt.

Robby bites at his tongue, completely pink.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[positivelyapunovexponent-good]

HUH. I very much relate to that uncanny feeling of realizing your life is just a little uncomfortably statement-like.

In undergrad I took an elective on fractals and chaotic dynamics, which was genuinely one of the best classes I've ever taken. It had an indelible impact on the trajectory of my mathematical interests. HOWEVER, I did - unfortunately- take it during a period of my life when I was in a very bad, very weird mental headspace, and I was ALSO listening to a frankly unwholesome amount of TMA.

So it's perhaps unsurprising that, after pulling all-nighters obsessing over the homeworks for this class, the math started bleeding into my dreams.

I would have these vivid fever dreams about anfractious corridors and staircases recursing on themselves. All very Michael-esque. They were deeply terrifying in an existential “reality is fragmenting” sort of way, but they were also so exhilarating I can’t bring myself call them nightmares. It's hard to describe... best I can put it, it is a very rare thing for me to have dreams so complex and memorable that I can sincerely call them 'beautiful'.

Needless to say I am very glad I do not live in the TMA universe because I would be long devoured and digested by The Spiral by this point.

Instead though I am doing much better mental-health wise, and I am now in grad school! This summer I get to start doing research on fractal dimension through a comparability theory lens, and I am really excited. I don't think the dreams will come back- I categorically don't pull all-nighters anymore and I think that was a big part of the problem. But if the dreams do return, I don't know if that's a sign the research is going very well or very, very badly.

i think i've said this before but when i first listened to the magnus archives i was descending into madness because my boss (a genomics professor) had loaned me out to a limnology professor for several weeks to work alone in a lab in the basement sorting tens of thousands of tiny macroinvertebrates out of stream samples, one square inch at a time.

for seven hours a day i listened to the magnus archives almost nonstop, staring through a dissecting scope.

i was also dealing with a nightmare living situation & a stalker so i had temporarily moved into a tent in a national forest. so you can imagine the headspace i was in.

my reprieve that kept me going was an upcoming trip to Cornwall to visit my best friends there.

as we were planning our agenda during my lunch break one day, I was temporarily so detached from reality that I opened my mouth to suggest that when I fly into London, we check out the Magnus Institute.

It's funny now but I was so alarmed by this that I took off two days of work to lie on the ground in the woods outside my tent and recalibrate. I thought perhaps that 48 hours without basement insects would help me. However, I kept listening to the Magnus Archives

[saintshadow]

ALCHEMICAL GOLD:

HOW TO TRANSFORM UR CURRENT SITUATION

↳ a/n: I hope you all enjoy this reading, I’m really trying to work on having more cohesive and attractive layouts for my readings. Feedback would be wonderful! 🩶⚔️

☿ 𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝓲 ☿

You may be the first of your family or friend group to choose or think differently. Ie; coming from a family of alcoholics and choosing sobriety- coming from a family of abuse, Christianity, Strict//Traditional values & choosing whatever is true to YOU. I sense that people respect this different frame of mind. You have a massive impact on your close ones, I see that maybe in the past it has even led to violent outbursts from friends or family. Perhaps you feel trapped by the circumstances of life, you feel like others cannot comprehend your ideas. It may feel difficult, because there may be part of you that understands your connection to your community or your family is an INHERENT point of your success in spite of the fact they make you feel held back. I’m in tears with this pile, you guys are amazing and I hope you know and feel that. Even if others don’t always acknowledge what you are doing or what you are capable of- deep down they know.

You definitely reincarnated from your bloodline.

Your advice is to stop waiting for approval from your partner, mother, sister, brother, friends, WHOEVER- whoever's approval you're waiting on- they're unfortunately not going to give it to you likely until it's a bit too late. I understand how painful this is for you, and for some I understand that rather than approval someone may have died or passed away- and you are wanting to know that they support you. I see a lot of you are very hopeful for the future, but you're waiting- so patiently and very obediently for something. I heard someone whisper "go" it was a woman's voice, I feel that you are far more powerful than you or anyone else could have anticipated. Maybe you weren't born into the best circumstances- perhaps you almost became a statistic. Take wise action, don't move on pure impulse. You know what you've been wanting to do- so you need to go and do it. For those who feel confused by this pile I feel called to recommend pile 2 to you though I haven't written it yet. With the 7 of Pentacles, The Magician, and the Ace of Pentacles-

it's clear to me you have everything you need to make this happen. You have literally nothing to worry about, in fact. There's some kind of truth or situation you may feel called to share publicly. For some this could have to do with bringing justice to a situation, speaking on a horrific thing that happened- defending a loved one even? If not that, then you are being called to take measured steps to re-establish yourself socially. You're supposed to cut through something, someone could have used your name or reputation as a punching-bag. I heard something about cutting off the head of the dragon, and it's weird bc I was watching Percy Jackson Yesterday- I remember the scene with the hydra in the book and that is coming to mind for me. You're revealing something about yourself to others. The way you carry yourself, I heard "emblem". So that definitely makes me think of your public image. Embrace the lessons that difficulty as a child taught you, I feel very sad for your childhood pile one. It is abundantly clear to me that you have been misunderstood for a very long time. People get upset with the things they cannot understand, you are not bad. I promise. The things your family taught you- the values, the structure and foundation no matter how broken have endowed you with great wisdom and strength. You have everything you need my love, I promise you that you do. I know some of you don't feel ready, some of you may feel angry or frustrated or stagnant, just take the leap of faith. Start doing the thing, start working the process, don't give up now. You have a vision that goes far beyond what other people could visualize, it doesn't matter if they think it won't work. Not when you KNOW it will.

Find the wisdom in your heartache, and work to defy all odds. Take the pain as an opportunity to reflect, to gain knowledge- as a step towards your ultimate truth. Rework the way you experience pain. I know it's tiring, it's frustrating, it's unfair- but this lesson isn't to punish you. It is to propel you, there is a reason this theme continually pops up. I think this group should study their Chiron placement, there seems to be something there. Your pain heals others, your pain opens the door to wisdom, healing, truth, and release. Allow yourself to exist truly and freely as the most authentic version of yourself while working to rise above the pain as often as s possible.

☿ 𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝓲𝓲 ☿

You need to sit tight through this period of uncertainty, I'm seeing the sails on a ship moving direction/course. So much has built up to now, you're tired of sitting and waiting in uncertainty. You're tired of pain, boredom, confusion, and the likes. It feels like rage, ready to bubble over- you may even be losing your faith in the divine. Because it seems like nothing works. Like nothing goes in your favor, you are angry. Scorned, you feel scammed. This is because intuitively you know a wish is about to be fulfilled, it's starting to come together now. Most ironically, I sense that you're preforming a type of martyrdom right now. You are sacrificing for a future that you're scared you won't be able to see. You feel as if you are blindfolded in the dark, and honestly you are- I also get frustrated at these circumstances. I find them to be unnecessary and unfair, though I am a human and probably super biased because I get the same way sometimes.

Your blessings are secretive, they aren't coming to you in a normal way. It's so weird, I really don't know why this is the approach your spirits are taking. It looks like it's because you need to learn something about balance and calmness. You have to develop a better discipline with negative emotions so they are taking this opportunity to teach that skill.

It's giving "we're going to literally make your external experience match your internal experience until you realize you're the problem" Let me tell you friend, some beautiful shit is headed your way- it's genuinely best if you just get with the memo and recognize that good things can happen to you. A lot of this "negativity" you're feeling is literally a release, you're purging a lot right now, and it's hard for you, I really do get that honestly. It isn't easy, it's in fact quite difficult and I'm sure overwhelming to feel forced into this position. You're tired of suffering, but you must take action to end your own suffering, and not like killing yourself cus I just get the vibe some of this group has been suicidal.

Fight your negative thoughts, when they tell you "something bad is happening everything will go bad" argue, point out the work you've done and the blessings you've reaped.

I get this vibe that any conflict you're seeing is not actually "real" so to speak, like- literally ignore it lowkey. Not like don't pretend it exists, but don't FEED it, it's fickle- it will come and go. There are so many other things in your life that have an actual sturdy foundation. Hold onto your healthy love/romance/friendships/relationships, hold onto your talents and gifts, hold onto your future desires- and keep your eyes ahead. Don't fixate on the dramas and bullshit of the now. Focus on something that showers you in hope- because I promise- just because you aren't seeing it in the now doesn't mean it isn't here. Once it all arrives, you'll FINALLY understand my dear.

Knight of Pentacles, 2 of pentacles, the empress, the queen of cups, and the 2 of cups.

Slow and steady wins the race, keep balance the best that you can- reap the fruits of your labor, penny pinch, be mindful of keeping the balance in check- and with a hopeful and emotionally calm heart look towards your future. If you've been feeling downtrodden or drained, you have a pick me up coming. Very soon, and it'll put quite a bit of pep in your step. You will see things changing drastically in your life very soon. Trust the process, I know you're starting to get fed up but just trust and believe in yourself. You are going to do just fine, frfr.

Since this pile is a bit shorter than 2, here is some further advice for tapping into this empress version of you: This is a hard one Pile Two, but- this is about releasing control. Going with the flow of life, while tending to your metaphorical "garden". When you feel the fear and control flaring back up, remember that you literally can only do what you're able to do. Stop to appreciate the things you do have, and look for a new perspective or find a way to avert your attention. This is a battle, girl, so you gotta buckle up and dive in. You are rewiring your mind and this is not an easy task, but you will come out better for it.

☿ 𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝓲𝓲𝓲 ☿

Pile 3, I can tell you're working on something important to you. You're really transforming yourself, I see that a lot of what you need to do to transform your life you are already doing. So perhaps this is going to be more like an explanation of your life's current "season". I want to start by highlighting an interesting combination of cards pulled on the side, they seem to be the shift in the tide. We have the high priestess, the sun reversed, and the 2 of wands, all forming a little pyramid. The sun being the furthest towards the bottom, the high priestess being more towards the middle, and the 2 of wands being on top. You are observing a lot right now, you are looking at the world and your environment and everything at large and you may be realizing how small your view had been for so long. The wisdom is being culminated within you in every moment you gain clarity. I see you may have a message to deliver to this world. A light shines deep within you, this sun reversed to me paired with the high priestess almost reminds me of the black sun. The light concealed within darkness, the eternal flame I also heard. You are opening something up inside of you, something that once opened cannot be stopped. This is a good thing, you may be realizing that your past emotional patterns do not serve you anymore. You are slowly culling them off, one by one, plucking them from the root so they may never return. I see you are building your wish fulfillment, perhaps you are looking to be a spiritual elder, or a person with authority. Someone who other people listen to and rely on, some of you could even be working to enter politicians, teachers, preachers even- Wisdomatic souls with much to give to others. People may begin to respect you more, you could find that the deeper you step into this energy the more "correct" things feel, the more things fall into place for you and the more you realize that your grapple with control was fruitless.

For those in relationships that are healthy and who will resonate strongly with this message then take it: Hold on to your person, and be steadfast, trust that something is being done in your favor and remember how much the two of you have overcome in the past. When the world seems out of control, confusing, and overwhelming remember the peace you will have one day. Remember what this is all for, you have a beautiful future ahead of you. Some of you could become very wealthy for your esoteric or spiritual knowledge, others could become very wealthy for their depth of knowledge on a particular subject- in especially niche or unknown//misunderstood areas.

You will taste true independence, and possibly even some sort of fame or recognition. You will be blessed with a higher position of authority and people may just start to really respect your hustle more. If someone isn't for you, then let it be what it is. Perhaps some of you have some friends/family members who can be fickle/unreliable. Be more intentional with what friendships you'll decide to keep & why? Be more mindful about what you share with friends and family right now as well, even the people you trust. Keep things to yourself, and be patient with the growth of the fruits of your labor bae.

[pagesfromthevoid]

Tagging in here for the Bob discussion. But imagine after a few times together he gets the confidence to be on top but he is a complete service top (still whiny though)

You’re so right, anon. So very right (this got. Very away from me).

The first few times, he’s so awkward. He’s worried he’s not doing it right, or he’s bad at it. He’s so timid and awkward, and he waits for you to make the first move because he knows what he wants but he doesn’t know what you want. What if you don’t want him touching you there? Or what if he does something you don’t like but won’t say anything so you don’t upset him? So he lets you make the choices.

But after —let’s say, the fourth, fifth time (and a few shattered windows because, well, turns out he doesn't know how to control his powers just yet when he's worked up) —he realizes that…you want him just badly as he wants you. Actually, you might be even more desperate than he is, honestly. Because you’re the one being patient with him. You’re taking everything by his pace; stopping when he needs to stop. Only touching him when he’s made it clear he’s okay with it. While he’s the one “in control,” it’s not really control —you’re just you, and you’re willing to take it slow and take care of him over yourself instead.

And now all he wants is to give you everything.

You’re lounging in his bed one night, reading one of the books from the stack he got from the library. Bob isn’t in the room; he’s been with Bucky and Walker most of the evening, doing god knows what (jokes on you, he was getting a terrible pep talk from both of them on how to do this). Bucky was helpful; gave some relatively functional advice. However, Walker kept repeating to use the alphabet, which was…not great and even Bob knows that. They did make him put on a less baggy tee shirt; something about having confidence in his own appearance would translate into the room.

He missed his sweater.

You only look up when the door opens because there’s a shift in the air; not a bad shift. Just...different suddenly. You put the book aside as he walks in, hands behind his back. He looks a bit rigid; stiff, uncomfortable.

“Where’s your sweater?” You ask, though it’s hard to complain when you can see the veins in his arms properly.

You don’t mind the baggy clothes; he’s comfortable and you find that’s what is most attractive. But it would be a lie to say you’re not pleased to see the lean muscle that he has under this shirt. Outside of being intimate, it wasn't often that you got to see him exposed in any way —even if it was just a t-shirt instead of a sweater.

“Uh, Bucky and Walker took it,” he explains but that sounds bad so he explains further. “Training. We were training and they didn’t want me to train in it. It’s…weird, right? The shirt? I’m not used to wearing things that are so…I don’t know, tight?”

You just hum, tilting your head to the side as you look him over. He looks down some, feeling like he’s being ogled (well, he is. But he's still not used to you staring at him like this).

“I think you look good,” you offer, sitting up properly now. “Not that I don’t like what you usually wear —I like whatever makes you feel good. But I'm not going to pretend that I don't like being able to see more of you whenever I get the chance."

"You do?" He asks, and you can't help but laugh a little. "I'm not much to look at —,"

"Wrong," you quickly interrupt, slowly standing up. "There's a reason why I like to take off your clothes —I like taking my time because I don't get to see all of you often." You pause for a second, taking a moment to consider how much more you could tell him without making him uncomfortable. "It's something that only I get to see. I like to enjoy that."

Bob is staring you down, definitely short-circuiting because neither Bucky nor Walker advised him on how to handle anything you just said. How is it fair that you’re just so…good to him?

But then...he takes a step forward. You don't move; that shift in the air suddenly makes sense and you let Bob decide what he's going to do now. His hands clench into fists a few times, trying to coax himself forward.

You take just barely a step towards him —not even an inch. Something instinctual; something gravitational. Then his hands are on your hips, and his lips are on yours, and he’s pushing you towards the bed. It’s the first time he’s initiated a kiss without outright asking. You melt into the touch, sighing into his mouth as the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress.

Sometimes you forget that Bob is incredibly powerful. He was, after all, created to be stronger than all of the Avengers combined. He doesn't particularly like using his abilities, but when his hands grip your thighs and lift you up, you gasp in surprise.

"I want to make you feel good," he practically breathes into your mouth, and even though he's the one leading, his voice comes out begging. "You always take care of me —let me do that for you."

You nod frantically, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into another kiss, but he only let's you get a quick peck in before he's pulling away. You whine a bit, sitting up on your elbows to complain —but you can't find anything to complain about as Bob is slipping his shirt over his head.

It's not the first time you've seen him shirtless. But it's the first time he's taken his shirt off himself, without prompting. Usually he wants to wait until you ask, or you're the one playing with the hem of the shirt and trying to get it off. But the confidence in his movements is both amazing and distractingly attractive, and you're staring unabashedly with lust blown pupils and kiss swollen lips.

Your eyes trail over his skin —the freckles and scars that letter his collarbones, the flush that's spread from his throat down over his chest. Down to his abs and following the V that leads below the waist of his sweats —which are straining from the hard on that's hidden beneath.

"You're staring," he teases, and it's a shaking sort of tease —like he's unsure of if he should be speaking.

"You're hot," you confess, but it's not really a confession at this point.

You've told him he's hot before —he doesn't believe you usually. But the little grin on his face suggests that maybe today, he does.

"You're too good for me," he counters as his hands slide up your thighs and over your hips. Then he's leaning in closer, pressing his lips to your jaw and peppering kisses over your skin.

You buck slightly at the touch, chasing it, and he immediately gives in and slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your leggings. You suck in a breath, and he pauses, but you lift your hips in response, a silent plea to continue. He doesn't hesitate and pries your clothes off of you, tossing them to the floor, before settling between your legs on his knees. You move to take off your shirt but he stops you, one hand holding you down.

"Don't," he warns, puling away to look down at you. "Let me do this for you."

You watch him for a moment but nod, pulling your hands away from your shirt. Bob's hands are slow —not teasing, not purposely at least —dragging up your hips to your waist, pushing your shirt up as he goes. His fingers trail along your ribs, just grazing the edge of your bra. You briefly wonder if he'll try to take it off or if you'll need to do that yourself —but he settles on pulling your shirt over your head first.

Your skin is warm and soft against his fingers, and he's watching as your chest rises with each breath you take in anticipation. You're still sitting up on your elbows, waiting, watching, when he leans down and pulls you up against his chest. One hand is bracing your lower back as the other fumbles with the clasp of your bra.

Confidence doesn't matter when it comes to bras, because they're evil, he decides as he sighs in frustration. He almost caves into the embarrassment, worried he's ruined the moment. But you reach behind your back with ease and unclip it, and toss it away. He wants to complain, and you can see he does, but you wrap your arms around his neck again and pull him into a messy kiss.

It's all teeth and tongues, deepening each second his hands grip you tighter. Then he's laying you back down, dragging his lips from yours to your jaw. Then down your throat. One of his hands holds your hip, but the other is trembling as it approaches your breast and tentatively squeezes it. You hum in response, and his mouth is on your nipple now, grazing it with his teeth.

Between the biting, the sucking and the pinching, you're aching for more. But the sounds he's making —the moans when you sigh his name or tug at his hair —are almost as satisfying as an orgasm itself.

Though you certainly wouldn't refuse one or two of those.

Perhaps he can read your mind, or maybe he just knows what he wants —it doesn't really matter —because he gives your breasts one final squeeze and nip then trails his mouth down your stomach. The closer he gets to you, the more fidgety you become. You can feel his lips smile against your skin.

"It's okay," he promises, breath fanning over your thighs as he parts them slowly.

His fingers are trembling slightly, pressed into your thighs just enough to leave marks. Like he's scared that if he lets go, you're going to pull away from him. But he shakes those thoughts from his head, shifting down the bed until he's sitting on his knees on the floor. You're about to argue, to ask him what he's doing, but he wraps his arms around your thighs and yanks you down the bed until your legs are over his shoulders. You gasp, and his nose just barely presses above your wet core.

He groans, pressing his forehead into your thigh, fingers tightening around you. "God, you are...you're so wet."

"I told you," you sigh, running a hand through his hair, guiding him to look up at you through his lashes. "You're hot. This is hot. Everything you're doing is just...hot."

He melts into you, taking a moment to ground himself in your touch. "You have no idea how much you do for me," he admits, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh softly. "But I'm...I'm going to try to show you."

"Oh, Bob, you don't —,"

But you cut yourself off with a gasp, fingers tightening in his hair as he buries his face in between your legs. Your hips move involuntarily, chasing his tongue as it swipes through your folds. He doesn't stop you, only presses his tongue flat against you before he sucks on your clit.

You suck in a breath, begging him to keep going. He nods as if he trying to respond, but he's groaning instead as he slips his tongue into you. Your thighs tighten around his head, hand guiding his head and mouth exactly where you need him to be. The hands holding your hips drift away, one disappearing entirely while the other glides just between your folds, one finger pressing into you slowly.

"Oh-oh," you sigh, involuntarily clenching around his one finger. "Oh, god, more —please —you're doing so good.."

He pulls his mouth away, just slightly, so he can see how you react as he slips a second finger inside you —curling up slightly. His eyes are glossy, face smeared in your juices, and you think this is the hottest thing you've seen in your entire life.

You cry out his name, back arching off the bed as you beg for him to go faster. He pulls out, just briefly, and you swear you hear him groan again. But you're too distracted by his fingers pressing up into you once again to notice any sounds that aren't the sounds of him finger-fucking you and him whining as he sucks on your clit.

You're so close —can feel it teetering on the edge when you manage to open your eyes just enough to watch him suck at your clit as he continues his rhythm. His other hand —the one that had disappeared —is in his lap and you understand his own whimpering now. While he's ruining you —burying his fingers so deep inside you, curling up and into that spongey spot that causes you to cry —he's jerking off at the whole experience.

And that tips you over the edge, pressing your heels into his shoulders as he furiously pumps his fingers in and out as you ride out your orgasm. You're crying out his name, begging him to stop because it's sensitive —fuck, your nerves are on fire —but he knows you don't actually want him to stop. It feels so good —the wave after wave of your orgasm washing over you before you hear him cry out himself, his body jerking against yours as he cums all over his hand.

You've collapsed on the bed, breathing heavy, and he's laying his forehead against your thigh. Both coming down from this, trying to catch your breaths.

When you've finally come to your senses —a solid five minutes later —you pull him up to lay beside you, pushing his hair out of his face. He's smiling at you lazily, hand laying against the base of your throat to feel your heartbeat.

"Have I told you recently how hot you are?" You ask, brushing your nose against his. You can smell yourself on his breath, and you're about to kiss him again when he says,

"I think I might start believing it soon."

---

Bob Taglist: @ilovemarvel12 @myrrh-dock

[swirlyyygal]

What’s Up With All the Silver?

That eyelined loner dad right next door to you freaks you the hell out. Not because you’re scared of him. But because of how much you want to lick his [CENSORED] and [REDACTED]

AU!RetiredAltDad!Geto x F!Reader

CW/Tags: NOT PROOFREAD, Geto has a tongue piercing… And he’s eating it, age gap (Geto is in his 30’s, reader is in her 20’s), single dad Geto, Nanako and Mimiko r mentioned and play a role, reader has hair (no type or length specified), SEXXX w/ his dih in(condom on), walls r thin, Geto is Buddhist bc duh, he feels a bit of religious guilt when he thinks abt u but only 4 so long ❤️‍🩹, brief hair pulling (he’s the one getting it pulled)

AN!!: Hi hiiiiiii!!!!!!!! ‼️Major disclaimer: his religious beliefs take apart of the story, and I take that experience from my point of view! I don’t mean it in disrespectful ways but I am taking into thought about how someone who is dedicated to their religion would think. I myself am religious, and have an indifferent opinion on sex but I do know some people who are odd about that kind of thing. So please don’t take it in any disrespectful way when I mention how he feels, masturbation and sex is totally normal!!‼️ Anyway, I was meaning to do him a long time ago but then that Joel Miller pic showed up and I got MAJOR SIDETRACKED (٥⁀▽⁀ )!! Thank u to my goat for giving me the idea of a single dad Geto, DOMO ARIGATO ✌️🤤❤️‍🩹🥀🕊️

~~~

The apartment complex you moved into was nice. Didn’t cost you much, good area. Very walkable and easygoing. It’s just. The neighbors..

You had a colorful array of next door acquaintances. Who knew people could be so inconsiderate.

Didn’t help the walls were thin. The neighbor to your left was always inviting people over to smoke and have sex.. The downstairs were always partying, upstairs was just the roof but still..

Only person you DID ENJOY was the neighbor to your right. A single dad of two little girls. He had long black hair, beautiful set of purple hooded monolids, sun kissed skin, stretched out ears with some others around the shell, and a very clear blackish stain on waterline.

Always quiet, always respectful. Didn’t interact with much anyone actually. You managed to pick up though that he was a Lay Buddhist. You’d seen him at the temple while passing by, and you saw his statues infront of his home.

Also he wasn’t as old as he described himself to be. Only being 37 and all. He didn’t even have to tell you, his daughters did. You assumed they were adopted, not that it mattered. Nanako and Mimiko were 10, so they were at the age where things just kinda flew outta their mouths.

“Mr. Geto forgets to brush his hair in the morning so we have to do it for him!!!”

The little blonde one, Nanako would shout when seeing you on your balcony. Geto then quickly pulling her back in the house and waving his hand. Not really saying sorry, just dismissing it.

It made you giggle. He took real good care of those girls. I mean, everyone in that family had absolutely glowing skin..

That’s beside the point. Point being. You were so down with Geto to the point where it didn’t feel right.

Maybe it was the fact he was such a capable dad? Or possibly how he was just so calm to everything. Even when a screaming match was going on in the back alley, he’d just sit on his balcony and tune it out. Like he was deaf.

He intrigued you so bad. But it’d be weird if you went up to him and asked him on a date. His girls were busy, he was busy, and he was also older, he probably wouldn’t be down with something younger than him. Perchance?

You just kind of saw him from afar, until today when you walked out your front door.

You PLANNED to just go out and really quickly grab some chips from the store at the corner. Until you turned to see Nanako and Mimiko kinda sitting at the front of the door, using colored chalk on the cement floors that led up to it. You stood there, barely fitting tank top, sports shorts, sandals and a bangle barely holding onto your wrist.

“Afternoon Nanako, Mimiko”

You waved, they waved back.

“Mr. Geto went to the temple! We got bored and walked home.”

Ah, you remembered that now when u went to pick up the mail that morning.

“Keep by me” He spoke in that purring tone, and then something after that..

“Uh.. How long have you been in waiting?..”

“20 minutes!!”

It was around a 7 minute walk from the temple to the complex, so they had been waiting for a while. You locked your door and tapped your foot.

“And you just, got up and left?..”

They nodded like it didn’t matter.

“C’mon, I’m walkin’ you back to the temple. Mr. Geto is probably worried sick..”

You replayed the last time his girls kinda just walked off to go play. He came frantically over to your door. It was terrifying to see him looking so frazzled when usually he just had a polite smile.

Turns out they had just went downstairs to play in the lobby.

The two girls got up, walking over to you while sulking.

“But the service takes too longgg!”

They’d usually be gone for around maybe an hour or two. But to a young kid that’s like their whole lifeline so you didn’t doubt it.

Taking your hand, they walked along with you. It felt so weird when they held your hands. You’d seen them do it with Geto. It made you feel weirdly.. Maternal… Which was even weirder bc they weren’t your kids. Shaking that feeling off quickly to not think about it too hard.

Along the way, they kept talking about Geto. Like I said, very talkative.

“Sometimes we fall asleep during the service”

Mimiko sprouted while walking a bit forward. Nanako would nod.

“Mr. Geto doesn’t know yet so don’t tell him!”

You nodded. Giggling to yourself at their antics.

“You know what else you shouldn’t let Mr. Geto know?”

That perked up your brow. Another secret of his? What on Earth could it be, he didn’t seem that secretive.

The two girls turned to eachother and giggled, pushing eachother.

“Mr. Geto thinks your ‘sooo hotttt’!”

They both laughed before running off infront of you down the street to the temple. Their comment hadn’t registered before you started running to make sure they didn’t go the wrong way. It only hit AFTER you arrived at the temple, standing infront of there with them. Panting.

Huh.

Geto hadn’t even seen you more than 10 times. And every time he just kinda nodded your way. He hadn’t shown ANY signs of attraction, so hearing them say he thought you were attractive made your heart flutter.

You watched at a frantic Geto was speed walking around the area, calling out to them with wide eyes. And when he looked to the front to Mimiko and Nanako, he visibly got relieved.

He ran over to them first, tapping them on the forehead and crossing his arms. About to scold them before he saw YOU. And when he saw you, in that little tank top, you watched him grip his sleeve.

“Thank you for bringing them over, I can’t believe I let them out of my sight..”

He turned them around to face you, patting their backs and making them bow a quiet sorry.

He didn’t even question why you had the girls, just that you brought them back.

“Don’t worry, they were just hangin’ around the apartment, didn’t go too far.”

He sighed. Nodding as he began to walk down the streets, with you not to far behind. You didn’t wanna walk with them, that’ll be weird, so you pretended to lug along and be distracted.

Once you both hit back to the complex, Nanako and Mimiko ran up the steps from the lobby. And there you both stood. Just kind of there with eachother. It was awkward before he spoke.

“Again. My apologies, they’re at the age where all they do is wanna run and explore..”

He pinched his nose bridge, turning to look up at him, you noticed the dark stain on his waterline and a bit of a wrinkle under his eye.

“No worries! Really! It’s nice that they’re so active.”

He smiled, grateful at your approach to the situation and how you weren’t annoyed. You watched him take a quick peak at your body before pulling something out of his pocket. He handed you a candy, wrapped in pink plastic cover.

“Thank you hon, good day now.”

He walked after them.

You stayed there, looking at the pink candy in your hand and feeling your face get warm. AHHH. Quickly unwrapping it and placed the wrapper in your pocket. When you saw his gaze on your body and that purring tone he used to call you that dumb name. OUGH JUST KILL ME ALREADY.

You tried to not to think about it too hard while getting back to your place. Trying not to think about how his delicate fingers grazed your own. Why were they so soft anyway? Does he moisturize?.. But, as soon as that door closed, it was completely over. And when I say over, I mean over.

You RAN into your bed, laying on your back with a furrowed brow. This is so dumb. Just because they said Geto called you “hot”, didn’t mean it was true. Yet.. You knew the girls, sure they were a bit mischievous, but not liars.

Kicking your foot against the mattress in frustration. SO LAME SO LAME. You shouldn’t be all over a stupid crush like this. ESPECIALLY on man pushing 40’s. URGH. You weren’t weird like that. Well, the girls didn’t have a ma.. And he usually doesn’t bring a lady home, so.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden pound on the wall next to your bed. Right. Mr. Geto’s room was right next to yours in terms of layout. So whatever he was saying or doing, you could just barely hear.

The pound sounded like a body, and was accompanied by a sigh, so it was definitely him. In an unconscious act, you leaned your body against the wall. Sort of calculating where his body rested so you could be lined up with him.

A hand ran along the walls of your room. Wistfully sighing like you were in some kind of movie. Anywhere else this would be embarrassing, but here, alone, is just one of your many pleasures of life. All was well and dandy, just kind of imagining this as a movie scene until you heard a muffled, familiar, voice.

You pressed your ear up to the thin barrier, making out what he was saying on, what you could only assume was the phone.

“No no.. Satoru you don’t you don’t understand, she’s too fine for her own good..”

His voice sounded strained, like he was biting his lip and holding something back. Who the hell was he going on about?

“I-I don’t mean to be perverted but like— No no you don’t understand like I could like see them. Yeah, no bra. And the white didn’t help much either..”

You looked down. Oh god you weren’t wearing a bra AND you had white on. I mean, it didn’t seem noticeable at the time but under the sun..

“I haven’t been like this since I was a teen, it’s weighing on me. I don’t enjoy feeling this way.. She’s such a sweet girl with her whole life ahead of her and— oh god and what about the temple..”

Well, he was dedicated. You knew that much. And we all know religion can be kinda iffy on sexual stuff. Especially lust and masturbation. Did he ever masturbate to you? WEIRD THOUGHT.

“Lo—Look Satoru I gotta go.. I need a moment to think about it. Yeah talk to you later, I’ll tell the girls you said hi..”

And the call was over. You heard the phone being thrown to a far end of the bed and his back pounding against the wall again.

Well that was the end of that. He would just fall for you and be guilty over his indecent thoughts, no big deal.

..

Then there was the sound of pants rustling.

No way.

You heard him place them on the blankets… And then his elbow hitting the wall. Oh lord.

You didn’t wanna believe it, he was proving it to you though.

“Forgive me.. Forgive me..”

He repeated quietly like a mantra. Before you heard the familiar sound of skin slapping. AHHHHH HE WAS JERKING OFF AHHH. Your heart began to beat 20 times more than usual. It felt so weird, so odd to hear this. You hadn’t heard it before, to be honest, you hadn’t even thought he would do things like that.

“I’m so-oorrryyy..”

He’d groan out, often cut off by a heavy moan. It was consistent. And you knew because you were hearing it. The whole thing. Ear pressed against the wall and all. You felt bad about it at first, but then again. He was jerking to the thought of you, so it was only a fair exchange.

His breathing was hot and heavy, and his pace wasn’t calculated. Assuming it’s because he was major desperate.

As perverted as it was, you wanted to hear him cum. You wanted to hear if he’d say your name, just to confirm…

And in your worst fear. Or greatest fantasy, he did.

Saying it with a passion and purr that was so perfect and sweet, but so raw at the same time.

You gasped, looking around your room to see if this was a joke. Was it? What would you do if it was?

A million thoughts raced through your head. You couldn’t bring yourself to listen to him anymore. Running out of the room and into your kitchen to distract yourself.

Maybe you’d cook? No. Watch TV? No. Go on your phone? No.. GAH! YOU COULDN’T GET IT OUT OF YOUR HEAD.

Then, a knock at your door. Please don’t let it be him..

Opening in the door, oh thank the lord it wasn’t him. Just Nanako and Mimiko. Why the hell were they at your door?

Just before you could ask, it was like they read your mind.

“We’re going out to play, can we borrow 5 dollars?”

‘Why me?’ You asked yourself. But didn’t deny them. Giving them a $5 bill.

“Thanks!! We’ll put in a good word for you!!”

Mimiko gleamed, and just like that they were off.

Good word?

To GETO?!

Again with the Geto oh lord it was never gonna end.

You turned your head to his door. Maybe drop by? He’s alone.. And you should probably tell him you gave them 5 dollars so he doesn’t think they stole anything.

You told yourself that was the reason while locking your door and walking over. Yeah that’s it. Not because you wanted to see him.

You knock 3 times.

No answer.

Then another.

Nothing.

Third times the charm, and it worked.

You heard feet shuffling in a panic and a frantic Geto answered the door. Breath heavy, hand wet with water, and his hair all messy with some strands sticking to his forehead.

“H-haa— Wha.. What’s goin’ on?”

His hand wasn’t even dry yet. You rested your weight on one leg with a hand on your hip.

“Sorry to bother just— Well, I gave the girls money, just wanted you to know so you don’t think they ya’know.. Shook some kid down.”

You have a light chuckle, he did too. Visibly relaxing against the door frame.

“How did I end up with such a good neighbor?.. Come in, come in sit.”

He says like he wasn’t just choking his chicken to the thought of you. He was so calculated so fast. Like, it was kind of annoying. You walk in not to far behind him, and you realized how little you’d been in his place. Maybe once or twice, but never more than that.

His home was furnished in a way that made everything seem so cool. Like a fresh breeze had just blown in. Pictures of his daughters and friends scattered on walls and counters, more than anything else.

A picture of him leaned against TV of his hair being shaved off. So he was a monk at some point in his youth.

Dolls and Littlest Pet Shop toys were scattered on the carpet of the living room, as well as books. It gave you a sense of a well loved home. A well furnished and loved home.

You smiled, he noticed. Bringing you both two glasses of water. He sat beside you. His airy scent seemed so natural. You turned away, looking to the wall next to the couch when you saw a bunch of old school pictures. It wasn’t hard to tell. You saw the quality and outfits of the time.

A blonde man with hair covering his eye. A white haired man, who you knew was called “Gojo”. A brown haired man. And finally a brown haired lady. Then your eyes landed on the corner. Holy flip.

There he was. And you could tell based on the tan of his skin and that shiny black haired man. Except, so much more detailed.

A heavy black underline and eyeliner, hair a bit frazzled and about to fall out of his bun, fingers littered with rings. But what attracted you the most was his PIERCINGS.

They were everywhere. I mean like all around. His brow had one, his ear was peace covered in all silver. Those same stretched out ears. And.

Oh lord.

A tongue piercing.

As clear as day because he was sticking it out.

You were hypnotized and he noticed FAST.

“Oh.. That’s from my college days..”

You turned back to him. Empty eyebrow hole, barely any earring piercings. And that familiar black stain on the waterline. It was like he totally abandoned the old him.

Until you saw his open mouth smile and there it was.

That little silver ball.

“You still kept the tongue piercing though?”

You pointed out, starting directly at his mouth. He placed a hand over his mouth and laughed.

“Ah yeah I do.. I find it a pain to take out.”

He looked away guiltily.

“That’s not the reason, is it?..”

Dangerous game you’re playing, god you didn’t know how he’d react to that statement. His head turned to you, a faint flush appearing before turning it down to his hands.

“Ah no. It’s cause, well.. In my youth. A lady I was hooking up with told me— Well- You know”

His words were scattered. You cocked a brow, he went on.

“She had told me, my tongue piercing— Wath hood hor eathing ow”

Midway he stuck out his tongue, letting you get a true glimpse of what it looked like. You assumed he said “was good for eating out”.

He noticed your silence and put it back in his mouth. Getting noticeably embarrassed and ashamed.

“I wanted to leave the past me behind, the scandalous me.. I apologize, it was crude to say all of that to you.”

He looked down, his eyes leaning to you and then seeing how you thighs pressed together. He decided to ignore it, furrowing his brows and bringing his hands together. Muttering something under his breath.

A prayer? Yeah probably.

“It’s fine Mr. Geto really, I asked in the first place. Plus, everyone has thoughts like that, no shame.”

He took a deep breath and placed both hands on his lap. He gripped his leg. Bringing his body up straight to stare directly down at you. He took a long drag down your body, looking at your legs, to your chest, shoulders, neck, and to you.

“I suppose so.. But.. You know, it’s still crude and- Oh lord- Distasteful..”

He had to take a deep breath in the middle of his sentence. He was fighting his inner self and it was way too obvious. He kept closing his eyes and repeating prayers in his head.

You looked down at your lap now. Just kind of staring at your thighs and hoping and praying he totally didn’t notice you pinching them together. You turned to his side to look at him again. But didn’t lift your head.

Oh lord you saw it.

The print was way too obvious in his grey sweatpants. His hand gripping the fabric so hard you thought he would rip them clean off.

He bit his bottom lip so hard you thought the skin was totally gonna rip off. You already saw it going red.

“So…”

You needed to change the conversation and fast. His hand quickly went to cover his raging erection when he noticed that you noticed. Shaking like he saw a ghost.

“I’m sorry.. It’s just.. Ah, I haven’t been intimate in quite a while. Guess I started reminiscing.”

Letting out an awkward laugh. He was about to run into his room and sob. Plus, he was still sensitive from being interrupted while gooning.

“What?.. You get hard while eating a girl out?”

You had never been this blunt with him. You never found it right. He wasn’t strong with his words, he took a delicate approach. And you watched his eyes visibly open, the purple shining off in the bright sun seeping through the blinds.

You looked down to see it twitch at just the mention of it. Oh lord you were literally joking, not SERIOUS when you said it.

Now you were both here. Cock hard and aching while you were slightly getting wet.

He looked at you.

You looked at him.

You both knew, ya’ll weren’t dumb. And he wanted to so bad, but his mind was stopping him. ‘THINK OF THE TEMPLE’ ‘Would Buddha be displeased?’ ‘She’s barely in her 20’s’

Every thought weighed on him. Lord the guilt was heavy. He was fighting every little part of himself to not give in. It was like everything was against him. A forbidden need. God it was just absolutely ruining him.

“I do.. Of course I do. What kind of man doesn’t?”

He turned to face you directly. Staring at you. Oh he really wanted it bad.. Like, dangerously bad. You saw it on his face. Years of religious repression getting to him, but also leaving him the second your hand grazed his thigh.

“You wanna eat me out?”

She shoots?

“Oh god yes.”

SHE SCORESSS.

Absolutely total half court shot made. You were shocked he said yes. He sounded so deliciously desperate.

In no time at all he had you lying back down on the couch. Shorts off and panties thrown elsewhere to the floor. And when he got that first look of your dripping cunt he almost came right then and there. Boxers on, sweatpants on and everything.

He hadn’t seen one in so long. He hadn’t necessarily wanted to. Not until you moved in. And every day he’s been dreaming of it. Now seeing it in real life he was ready to absolutely ruin it.

Quickly wrapping his arms under your legs he lifted them up so they rested on his shoulders. Holding your hips with his hands while his breath fanned against your folds. A heavy shiver went down your spine when you felt it, how scandalous..

You already saw metaphorical spirals appearing in his pupils before he kissed the side of your thigh. Letting his soft lips touch your supple skin. He melted into it easier than you would have thought.

“I’ll— Lord— Please forgive me if I can’t hold back..”

He murmured. Getting ever so closer before leaving a burning kiss to your clit. Your thighs twitched and your eyes peered to him. He had barely even kissed you but god did it feel good.

His eyes were closed in ecstasy as his drooling tongue licked a line down between. Laying it flat on your folds as he soaked in the flavor like some kind of food critic. The cold metallic feeling of his ball piercing hitting your clit as he flicked his tongue. Normally getting aten out was good, but with the piercing.. It was like a whole new idea and world was introduced to you.

He moaned, muffled by his mouth being occupied. The vibration going straight to your head and nerves.

He was engulfed in your taste. Popping his mouth on and off our your swollen pussy. Occasionally sucking and letting the ball of his piercing rest against your perked clit.

Damn if he wasn’t a good eater you wouldn’t know what he was.

“T-that lady was— Fuuuuhhhkk- Right..”

You laughed. Barely able to keep it up though without squishing his face with your thighs when his tongue swiped back and forth. He was definitely an eater, and what made it even better is that he looked like he lived for eating it.

He held onto your hips like if he let go and stopped licking, both you and him would cease to exist. He ate it in such a caring, but lustful way.

He opened his eyes, vision a bit blurred before he looked to you. Making direct eye contact as he licked a long stripe up. Curling his tongue at the end and licking his arousal covering lips.

“I don— Don’t know what’s gotten over me oh God.. Forgive me forgive me..”

He repeated again. He was really into being forgiven. You couldn’t tell if he was exactly talking to you, or Buddha. But you didn’t care because even after saying that, he kept devouring it. Shaking his head side to side while his tongue lay flat. Letting the tip slip into your dripping hole before pulling back to just make out with your sex.

He kissed it with such passion. Such a calculated way of making you tremble and moan. The noises you were letting out were obscene, if any of your neighbors heard— well. They weren’t much better. So why were you gonna stop at their expense? Infact. It made u louder.

When he heard you get louder his pace continued with fever. His hips rutting up into the air, not even humping the cushions literally just going into the air. He missed this feeling, knowing that his mouth can give a woman such intense pleasure. Putting the silver ball to use against your clit, giving it a cold sensation.

Your hand ran through his sleek black hair, tugging on the scalp of it. His eyes rolled back, letting out a guttural moan before going right back to work. You even felt your wetness drop down to your thighs, I mean, how messy was he gonna get?!

He liked it messy, no duh but whatever. He just kept slurping you up like he was dehydrated. His spit pooling into his mouth and dripping onto the couch cushions.

He took a moment to breathe, heavy gusts and wind blown on your sensitive pussy.

“Can’t get enough—“

He breathed out quick as hell before going back to mauling that. Piercing poking around at the flesh with his tongue drawing random spirals and shapes. And your grip only got stronger, nails digging into your own palm to ground yourself.

He brought you closer to his face, pushing your hips into his mouth while he sucked on your clit. Letting himself just enjoy it all before going back to smothering his face in it.

“Ar yu cloth?”

He panted while still eating it. Taking a while to actually pick up what he said before nodding. He nodded back, letting his tongue apply pressure to your wet cunt before licking up to your clit. Continuously sucking before watching your thighs shake and tremble around his face. Legs clamping around his head and he could swear he saw heaven in that moment of his breathing being cut off.

Your orgasm came out with such intensity. You realized no one had ever given you such good head, like, ever. Not with such care, such fever, such love. Damn you could get hooked on this.

You rode it out on his face, hips grinding against his mouth before he let go of your waist and you stopped suffocating him (to his own displeasure).

“Good girl.. You tasted— Lord— You taste—“

He couldn’t even finish his sentence. climbed on top of you, cradling your head up from the back to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his tongue, letting your own rest against his. The clacking of metal against your teeth feeling weird, but good. The skin around your lips also messy with your arousal. I mean he really ate that thing.

He pulled away from the kiss with a sort of guilty look in his eye, twisted with lust as well. He looked like he had just gotten rid of years of stress, but gained them back when he realized what he had done. It wasn’t you. No. Never you. It was his own mind messing with him. And that red band that lay across his right wrist.

“Hon.. Please. Forgive me.. But it hurts.. I’ve been wanting- Needing this for a long time and I dunno how much longer I can deny it”

You lifted your upper body up to see him pulling down his sweatpants along with the boxers. Watching his angry, throbbing cock lay bare against. Precum already dripping down and leaving a large wet patch on the fabric. He gave you a pathetic look.

“Please just tell me it’s okay that I’m doing this. It’s cruel and selfish but pleasepleaseplease..”

Is he, begging?

He’s begging.

The usually calm and composed, peaceful man. Who you knew always had a calculated look on his face, was begging you comfort him.

You couldn’t help but give a bit of a chuckle. Concealing it behind a soft smile.

“It’s okay, I’m totally down with all this. I want it as bad as you do. So, Suguru..”

You said his first name with a purr in your tone. Not like his usual calm purr, but with a new kind. A kind of purr that made his body shiver and his desires grow tenfold.

You watched as a flip switched in his head while scrambling a condom from the bottom drawer of his TV stand. Walking back over to you laying on the couch. Sitting on his knees infront of you, he placed it around his cock slowly. Letting it stretch and cover all his length while slowly aligning himself up with your hole. Still incredibly wet.

And when he put the tip in, feeling the warmth of a woman’s pussy for the first time in years. Lord it’s like every single guilty feeling left his body. The times he’s spent jerking off, and then spiraling about it for hours on end, leaving his mind. You watch it happen. You watched the way his eyes closed and a vein on his forehead bulged. Holding your hips with his nimble fingers and pushing in. Every inch reaching a spot inside of you that you never knew you had.

“You’re doing alright hon? Lemme know if you need it to stop..”

He said in such seriousness before continuing to slide in.

“Never better.”

You quipped. He almost lost it at that moment. He finally managed to slip all the way in, a groan of pain from you while a moan of pleasure from him. While it was a big painful, the pain subsided into raw pleasure like a snap.

He gripped your skin. He hadn’t felt such a thing in a looonggg time, so you let him bask in it. Letting him lean down to kiss your neck, then shoulder, then chest before flicking his tongue against your nipple. Catching a glimpse of that piercing made you clench around him and he felt that.

He didn’t need to question if it was because of the nipple or the metal. He knew.

Pulling himself back up, he realigned himself. Turning his gaze to you for permission. You rolled your eyes playfully.

“You can move, don’t hurt no more”

Beaming, he immediately got to work. Going slow, letting himself out by an inch. Then pushing back inside again. The wet squelch sound almost making you laugh, if you weren’t about to fall all over his dick.

Slowly he began going in and out, feeling your walls close in around him with intensity he never knew. He gritted his teeth, how the hell were you so warm? He was deprived, deprived of what he needed and desired so bad. Deprived of you in yourself. Not just your body, but you as a whole. He needed you. And right now, he just so happened to need your pussy.

He pushed himself so deep inside that you felt him fill you completely, stretching you to the point where it honestly felt unnatural. You whined from the feeling, god what he wouldn’t give to have that sound playing on his phone constantly.

“It’s okay hon.. S’okay..”

He consoled you, keeping him own pace up inside of you. The sounds of wetness and nothing making him loose his own sanity. He could hear every breath, every moan, every squelch, even rustle. It felt so intimate, cause it was. Still with that grey sweater covering his body and sweatpants throw with your own shorts.

But you knew. Even if he was trying to just enjoy, oh he was holding back LIKE CRAZY. You saw in the way he looked at you, the way his hands gripped your skin.

“Faster. Please, Suguru..”

His name in your voice clicked in his head. And like a sleeper agent he locked the hell in. Taking your hip in his hands “sorry sorry sorry” He whispered before taking his pace from a 4 all the way to a 8. He knew he needed this, he knew he needed to let off some steam but he also knew it might cause you harm. And he’d never let his neighbor girl get hurt.

All of a sudden everything got louder. Couch creaking, squelching getting louder, skin slapping faster, and your moans. Sweet, tempting moans ran through his head in circles. Oh he needed that to the point where he would just die to have it. It felt like he died now that he got to finally let it out.

“I-I gotta be honest hon!!-“

He exclaimed, aggressively poising into you. Damn could he FUUUUUUHHHHKKK. You looked at his expression, eyes closed with mouth wide open.

“Go ON!!”

You tried to keep your voice in check without a total moan taking away your words.

“No lady ever said the tongue piercing thing!! I just kept it because- All the men you brought over had ‘em, and good Lord if I didn’t want to be them..”

He admitted. The usual reserved Geto admitting his own selfish want for keeping it in instead of taking it out. You could almost laugh at his reason if it wasn’t turning you on so much. He kept his old ways just because he thought it’d make you want him? SUCH A FREAKING CORNBALL BUT SO SWEEET!!

You wanted to tell him how much you needed to hear that, and how much you wanted him too. Whenever you brought guys over they just so happened to look similar to him, not so much of a coincidence but he didn’t need to know that. You wanted to tell him this info BAD. But you could barely let out a ‘cute’ because all that’d escape would be a moan.

So you let out a moan. An apartment shaking moan that you imagined everyone heard, but you just. Couldn’t care less. It was all for him, all these moans and whimpers for his mind to keep forever. You always wanted to be polite for the neighbors, never wanting to bother but now, you wanted to be a bother so you knew just how good you were getting dicked down.

Cursing under his breath after hearing your moans, he kept at it. Letting his black hair fall and get all over his back. Strands sticking to his sweaty forehead while he reached the deepest part of your womb. His mouth fell open to really just feel every part of this experience to the highest amount he could.

He’s bullying you with it. And he doesn’t even realize how much you’re feeling. With every thrust your boobs bounced and hair rubbed against the cushions. You felt every single vein and it absolutely ruined you. You memorized it. One was on the left side going all the way up and down while the other was just slightly at the base. A hand went to grip the cushions while the other held onto nothing. His hands still gripping onto your waist like if he let go you’d split in two.

“I’ve never wanted anything more than this.. Please let me be selfish with you and let me have you like this?..”

It was a little too late to ask, but you didn’t mind. You liked that even during the moment he’d ask, like he hasn’t already been asking previously. Your mind could barely register the request before it finally was out through your skull. Letting out a chuckle you nod.

“Be selfish with me, Suguru”

That was all you needed to say before he started going at a pace only one could dream off. Missed out years caught up to him in that very moment as his cock was angrily pushed inside. Another high pitched moan escaped your mouth, as another moan did his. It felt like heaven to him, he tried to push the thought down but it did. It felt like pure and true heaven with him inside of you.

Ruthless pounding of skin making it hard to concentrate on anything else. You might have heard the neighbors knock on your walls, but you didn’t care. You both finally got what you wanted. He wanted you and you wanted him. It was all that mattered.

His thumb went down to your clit, rubbing side to side while he relentlessly pushed into you. He watched your expression change and your grip on the sofa get tighter.

“Cum with me, please. Suguru.”

You managed to let out with a strained voice. God not his name again. Anything but that. You felt your lower stomach tighten and your pussy clenching around his length pushed fully inside. And his cock buried fully inside. He continued to rub your clit, rubbing it with calculation while his own pace got aggressive.

You came first like he intended. Your legs spasming and locking around his waist. Toes clenching and eyes rolling back type of orgasm. A Earth shattering moan left your mouth, reverberating from the walls while your whole body trembles. Hot is all you could describe it, of you actually put it into words. It wouldn’t work.

He let you calm yourself on his cock before you watched his pace get sloppy and ultimately he shook as well. Shoulders shivering while he came inside the condom. All types of stress leaving him when he finally came. You felt his hands go from firm grip, to a barely hanging on grip. Watching him pull out of you slowly and then walking away. You didn’t think you could lift yourself up, se you kind of just heard what was going on. You heard the sound of a trash can opening, a sink running. And a water bottle.

He walked back. A bit frazzled but nonetheless still caring. He sat down and opened the bottle, cradling your head up. You drank, the cold water refurnishing some of your energy. He closed the bottle and placed it lord knows where. He looked at you lovingly, his guilty thoughts not running through his mind at the moment. It seemed like those things didn’t exist right now.

Slowly you sat up, bracing yourself if it was painful. Resting your back against the arm couch to atleast get a glimpse of the usually refined man. Who was now messed up panting.

You both sat there in silence. Just kind of admiring eachother before you landed on those beautiful purple eyes of his.

His eyeliner was running.

The eyeliner that he SWORE was just a stain from his youth, was running down his eyes to the middle of his cheeks.

“Leave the past behind me my ass”

He heard you and shook his head. Not deciding to answer or get mad, just letting you have the moment. His past would come up another time, but not now. Not with his hand gently stroking your sore body.

Not now. His guilt and past could wait.

E.N: HOLLLY FLIP THIS TOOK ME WAY LONGER THEN I THOUGHT IT WOULD. It’s mainly just because of my procrastination problem and also because I’m still a noob at writing sex.. #i♡beingavirgin!! Anyway!! I hope to write more for JJK men in the future, but I’ll try to keep a consistent schedule!!! Don’t take my word on it tho… Hope you all enjoy!!!! Reblogs, notes, and comments appreciated!!!!! (●’◡’●)ﾉ

[hearts-hunger]

okay, mixed feelings on this episode

pros:

FUCK YEAH TOMMY MENTION??? i genuinely had written off seatle tommy so i screamed when jesse said they came together. there's a lot of things that will have to happen to make tommy's seattle arc hit like it does in the game (tbh i don't trust them not to fuck it up) but for now i'm just glad he's gonna be there!!!

jesse coming in to save the girls was like...... swoon. and it's not even a game thing so that proves i can like changes from the game. take that, all of you who think i'm a mega hater.

the stalkers were scary as fuck!!!! very good use of them!!!! the scars are pretty cool and scary too!!!

i'm not mad at the way they condensed this episode, to a certain extent. i know you have to do that for tv, and it's not bad.

JOEL :(

cons:

ellie's incurably stupid, apparently. dina is 100% leading and orchestrating and planning this whole mission, and the writers insist on having another character call ellie stupid or having her call herself stupid at every turn. i'm not sure what the payoff of that is.

along with getting all of ellie's competence and skill, dina is also getting all of ellie's emotional development. like, her speech about why she's here getting revenge - why didn't ellie say that? why isn't ellie as angry as dina, as driven to get revenge? dina's getting all of ellie's most important character traits, and by comparison, ellie comes across as the dimwitted sidekick who doesn't really care if they're here or not.

in the same vein, i know they had to get us to the hospital to kill nora this episode timeline-wise, but they haven't given us ANY emotional buildup to this moment. ellie beating nora to death comes out of the clear blue sky. they keep hammering in this "ellie is happy about the baby and protective of dina" thing (which, as i've said, is not my favorite change to the story, but i digress) - but all of a sudden, knowing dina is wounded and she and jesse are being hunted down, ellie decides to take a quick detour to torture nora. what??? in the game, this moment is inevitable - ellie is spiraling, consumed by revenge, not caring about anything other than killing abby's crew. of course she abandons her friends to kill nora. in the show, though, she's gone from dad of the year to unfeeling torture machine in 0.001 seconds. i'm curious to know how show-only people are taking this, because it's giving me whiplash. the emotional pacing in this season is really weird.

bella ramsey isn't really intimidating imo. and i didn't love the change from the game where we just see ellie's face when she's torturing nora. it just didn't hit as hard. but that's also a product of no emotional buildup in this entire season and dumbed-down ellie. it's hard to buy ellie as a raging revenge-driven killer in this episode when she........ hasn't been. at all.

come talk to me about it on my sideblog @ellies-miller!!

[pyros-hollow]

Anyway I can request a Scott x Female!Reader x Logan poly trio where the reader has been getting pretty sick the last few days and the boys get worried because even with her healing abilities she’s not getting better and she ends up having to be taken to med bay for surgery and the boys end up taking care of her while she recovers?

Of course!!!! Here you go :) I tried to do my best with the outline and just went with the flow ykwim

Handled With Care

Poly!Scogan/F!Reader sfw sick fic

ao3

WC: 1.9k (basically)

Summary: After coming back from a mission, you get sick. Nobody can really figure out what's wrong. Scott and Logan take make sure you're alright.

Tags: Sick fic!!! Reader is a mutant with healing abilities for plot purposes, the entire team worries about you aww, surgery/medical procedures done on reader so beware (not graphic), recovery, suggestive jokes from Logan, Logan tries to be freaky but you get sick, no actual sex though, non sexual showering together, brief mention of the possibility of pregnancy (she isn't though), cw emetophobia (me too y'all), not tagging the illness for the element of surprise 😮

After nearly a full week of being gone, you were finally back home. The mission you had gone on to Madripoor had taken way longer than you had expected. You were supposed to deal with a mutant threat, but had ended up in some weird laboratory.

But now that you were home, there was sort of a gap in your memory. You knew you got the bad guy, saved the day, but everything else felt... fuzzy.

As you walked up the stairs of X-Mansion, you realized how eerily quiet it was. Normally someone would have said hello to you by now. Maybe Scott, or Logan, or someone. But, no. Eerie silence.

You pushed open the door to your bedroom and oh- There was Logan. He'd been laying on your bed reading something, laid back like a lazy cat. He let the book fall to his chest, and he moved to rest up on his elbows.

"Well well, look who finally decided to come back." Logan teased, smirking at you as he crooked a finger to beckon you over. You smiled at him and complied, going to sit on the bed next to him; until he gently pulled you to rest atop him.

"Hey stranger." You smiled, looking at one of your men. Logan softly pressed his lips to yours, a gentle welcome home. His hands ran up and down your sides, moving you to straddle him.

"Gotta show ya how much I missed ya." He purred, rough hands squeezing the flesh of your ass. You sighed into another kiss, and just as Logan's hand was about to dip beneath your waistband you felt it.

Nausea.

Overwhelming nausea.

Like, if you didn't get to a bathroom in 5 seconds you'd ralph.

You quickly rolled off Logan, and basically off the bed; running as quickly as you could to your adjoined bathroom. You knelt at the toilet, the cold tile of the floor against your hands grounding you as you let the buildup of bile within make itself known on the outside.

Logan was obviously alarmed by your retching, and as he saw you knelt down and puking your guts out, his protectiveness flared up. He knelt next to you, moving hair away from your face as you let the last part of sickness subside for now. Logan wiped your mouth with some toilet paper, before flushing it along with everything else.

"You okay? I know I forgot to brush this morning but I didn't think I'd taste that terrible." He teased, rubbing his hand up and down your back. He cupped your face, making you look at him.

"I don't know, it just came over me all of a sudden. I wasn't feeling bad before I don't think." Your head was reeling, vision spotty, and you were all clammy. Poor thing.

"Well we should get you in the shower or something. C'mon, up." Logan stood, guiding you up with him and holding you steady. "Here." He gave you the bottle of mouthwash from your sink, and you opened it, taking a swig and swishing; before spitting the blue liquid down into the drain.

Logan went over to the shower stall in the bathroom, turning it on and waiting a moment for the water to get warm. Without a word he helped you get undressed, and he did it to himself as well. You both stepped into the shower, and he held you close against him, rubbing a hand up and down your back. Your skin felt cold against his, and you shivered seeking out how warm he normally was. Maybe you had come down with something when you were in Madripoor? It wasn't unlikely, the city was huge after all.

"I'll call your other boy toy when we're out." He teased again, kissing the top of your head as he just let you rinse under the spray. "There was a field trip for the students and he's chaperoning; that's why the house is so damn empty." You just nodded, feeling sick and defeated.

After a few more long minutes in the shower, you shut the water off, wanting to go lay down instead of stand. Logan followed, toweling you off and he put his clothes back on before going to get you some comfortable ones to change into.

He helped you into bed, before getting his very outdated flip phone from the bedside table and leaving you in peace to call Scott. As you were left alone you felt so... so sleepy. You couldn't help but nap.

You had such an odd dream. Flashes of blue and the sounds of little creatures flickered through your subconscious.

So odd.

When you woke up again your eyes adjusted to the silhouette of someone pacing around. You blinked a few times before realizing it was Scott. A sleepy sound escaped your lips which drew his attention to you. Within seconds Scott was at your side.

"Are you okay? Logan told me you were throwing up earlier? What's wrong?" His hands caressed your face, he looked so worried. He pressed the backs of his hands to your cheeks to see if you had a fever, you were sweating so bad. "I'll have to talk to Hank and see what we can do and if-"

"Scott. Scotty, baby, just be quiet okay? I must have picked something up while I was gone. I'm sure I'll heal."

Scott nodded and tried to even out his breathing. He was always so quick to worry, especially when it came to you. He crawled into bed with you, opting to snuggle and keep you warm. You were freezing cold, yet all your visible signs seemed like a fever. You looked over at the bedside table, and smiled a little bit. One of the boys had brought up some saltines and Gatorade; very good when you've been puking.

The bedroom door opened, and lo and behold, there was Logan, his eyes widened when he saw that you were awake.

"There she is." He said softly, sitting next to you, the mattress dipping from his weight. "We've gotta figure out what's up with you darlin'."

"It could be a stomach bug." Scott piped up.

"Could be." Logan bit his lip, and he really hesitated to ask this, but he knew it was best to eliminate all options. "Baby, do you think you could be pregnant?" The color drained from your face."

"That isn't possible, she and I are safe." Scott whined.

"Well she and I aren't." Logan deadpanned.

"No, there's no way I am." You shook your head. You had just gotten off your period, so that was quickly off the list of possibilities. It was quiet in the room for a moment, the only sounds were all three of yours's collective breathing.

"I'm going to talk to Hank, you just rest, okay?" Scott murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, before getting up and leaving to go to the lab.

Over the past few days, things had taken a turn for the worse.

Your "fever" hadn't broken, your body temperature ice cold at all times. And now your skin was developing a blue tinge. Worst of all your healing abilities could not for the life of you seem to kick this thing!

Hank had done test after test, and the rest of the X-Men were worried as well. Gambit had come by to entertain you with a story from his most recent bout of traveling; Jubilee came to talk about this awesome game she had found, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. Scott and Logan were worried the most.

Almost at all times at least one of them was with you. Other than when you'd asked for space. It was worrying, watching your collective girlfriend suffer from something neither of them could fix.

After another round of questions on your symptoms with Beast, you realized something you had left out. Or more so forgotten. The lab in Madripoor.

Once you informed him of your lapse in memory, it was like he'd had a eureka moment. Hank had rushed you from the medbay to the lab, and hooked you up to a scanner as soon as possible.

"Aha!" Beast gasped, turning the screen towards you. "It seems that while you had forgotten the lab in Madripoor, you left with a little souvenir. Someone had implanted an alien parasite into your body while you were unaware."

You were in shock. An alien parasite?! You knew strange things were possible, you were a mutant after all. But an alien parasite...

"Do you know where it came from?" You needed to know.

"Unfortunately not until I remove it and do some tests. But it is pretty deep inside of your system, I'll have to put you under." Hank explained. This was huge news!

After a while, your boyfriends were informed of what exactly was wrong with you, and they pretty much had the same reaction you did. But they both knew that thing needed to come out ASAP.

So after some preparation Hank had successfully put you to sleep in his lab. Working diligently to rid you of this little alien hitchhiker within you.

Bright lights shone above you once you opened your eyes. You heard voices around you, hushed talking. You attempted to focus in on it but then there were voices surrounding you and you had no choice but to take in your surroundings.

"Oh thank God you're awake." It was Scott. Sweet, always caring Scott. His hands cupped your face and he pressed a long kiss to your forehead.

"There she is. Heard something else was sharing our girl without our permission." Logan walked up behind Scott, looking down at you as well. "You okay?"

You nodded, even though your throat was dry as a bone from being put to sleep. Scott helped you drink some water, and he smoothed out your hair from your face.

"Hank says he's never seen anything like it. He took a picture if you want to see it later."

"Damn thing looked like a slug."

"Logan- that's insensitive! It was a very life-threatening slug."

You laughed at their bickering, still loopy. "Well, does this mean I get a break from missions for a while, oh wise team leader?" You asked Scott, hoping he'd say yes.

"Uh, no, I mean I don't want this to happen again but-" Logan gave him a gentle knock upside the head, and Scott's face flushed. "Fine. You'll get a break for now. But don't slack on your training."

"You heard Slim. Besides, when you're feeling better again I call dibs to give you your first round of cardio." Logan squeezed your thigh, and that made your skin all hot. But you knew he was just happy you were all fixed up and figured out.

So while you settled back into your bedroom for the night, Scott had gotten you some soup. Logan made sure you had the medicine Hank made in case there were any more uninvited guests in your system. And all three of you stayed snuggled in.

The both of them were happy to make sure you had whatever you needed in the coming days after recovering. Even if it wasn't that serious of a procedure.

You were just happy you could depend on them whenever you needed to; even if you were fully capable.

[i-willstealyourtoes]

hcs for spy, scout, n demo with a gn!reader who seems really harmless, silly, just a goober until blurting out something super unhinged/violent but then just like, keeps insistently acting friendly again (intentionally covering up capacity for actual competence by being cute??)

other details can be whatever you want, went with the mercs i thought would be more interesting with this prompt, hope things are fun for u!!!

Ooo yeah this does seem rlly fun!! I hope I did this one justice :) I decided to make it so Reader is some sort of co-worker (but not a merc), and the violent ideas aren't just for jokes >:)

Spy, Scout + Demo with Cute!Violent!Reader

Spy

At first, he didn't really like you that much when he saw how 'silly' you were

Why would he need any more idiots in his life?

But after a little while, he got used to your light-hearted fun, not necessarily hating you, but not really interacting with you either...

That was, until you started saying things.

Like casual promises of intense violence, followed with something of your usual gleeful attitude

Genuinely concerned for you. Are you??? Okay???

He's not sure if you're trying to prank him, if this is some sort of thing Scout set you up to do or you're just insane. He doesn't like any of those options.

But when he notices that the things you say aren't just weird jokes, he actually becomes a bit interested

Is this how you really are? Some kind of blood-thirsty person that hides behind a mask of smiles?

He starts to wonder if you actually act on these gruesome thoughts

So he decides to subtly test things out, intentionally ruining your day from the sidelines, to see if you'll snap

And eventually, you do, throwing a knife at Scout as he shrieks and runs away after having making fun of you one too many times

After that, he actually kind of likes you, especially since you are more capable of things than he initially thought

He might not be your friend, but he doesn't mind talking to you now, and he finds it amusing when people get shocked/scared when you say something bloody

Scout

Scout initially just thinks you're some cute co-worker he can flirt with

But when you start spouting a violent and unhinged suggestion of getting info out of a man, he freezes in partial amounts of disgust and horror (you know that one face he makes when he sees Zhanna and Soldier naked? Yeah.)

For at least a couple days, he's pretty spooked.

Are you always like this? Did you say it to prank him? Was this just a one time thing?

He might not talk to you for a little bit. He won't ignore you, but you can tell he's a little awkward around you from then on

There's a few ways to get him to be normal again.

Either he watches someone else get spooked and finds it funny, or you help him out with something because of your violent nature

Regardless of which one, he quickly realises that your bloodthirsty attitude is just as you as your cute one

It might still throw him off though, but he won't say much other than a "Dayum, chill (Y/n)!"

Other than that, he actually kind of finds it funny watching other strangers get scared if you say something/threaten them

It's free entertainment !!

He is just a little scared of you though... He definitely would not want to get on your bad side.

Demo

Takes a liking to your silly personality, and the two of you quickly become good friends !!

As for your sudden, random violent sayings?

It depends, really.

Either one: he does a double take and stares at you with furrowed brows and widened eyes

Or two: he doesn't react at all and just accepts it immediately

Even if it's the former, at most you get a simple ".....what?" before he eventually recovers and lets the situation go

Regardless, he actually really appreciates your capacity for violence, it means he doesn't feel pressure to steer from gruesome discussion

Originally, he wouldn't have talked to you about how he blew up a guy to pieces, but now he's happy to share all the disgusting details

Especially since you either find it amusing or have some story yourself

In fact, he might even take you to see his work, if you're down for it :)

Imagine: the two of you sitting on some seats watching as some poor unsuspecting opposite team member walks on a sticky and... you know the rest.

You two become a really good pair, not despite the occasional violent behaviors you possess, but because of them !!

The others might think you're a bit creepy, or even be a little scared of how you can switch between the two personalities, but Demo doesn't mind at all !

[candywife333]

You Darn Brat!!

[ ONE SHOT ]

older noona chubby reader x annoying brat jungkook (7 year age gap)

Disclaimer: cursing, ethically/morally dubious

Can always expand it into a full story if you guys want. As is the case with most of my fics.

"You darn brat!!! Get over here!! Trying to give me a bloody aneurysm, aren't you?", I beseeched the doe-eyed four foot tall chubby two year old from hell . I hated babysitting but my mother insisted I take care of her best friend's kid, no matter how annoying the kid was.

Jeon Jungkook , the tubby tot who had the facial structure of a marshmallow, was a bane of my freaking existence. He was always either wailing or running around like a headless chicken. You would think he learned to walk since he was born, by the way he was stumbling around precariously with a head too big for his fleshy body.

He was in his bobble head era. As both my mom and aunt (the antichrist's mother) walked through the door, I heard a thud as the big headed kid fell face first onto the floor. Mom and aunt rushed to where the miserable twat had fallen. They squaaked at me like angry mother hens, my mother yelling at me, a deep furrow of a frown on her forehead, " How could you be so irresponsible Y/N? HE'S SUCH AA LITTLE BABY!! I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TO BE THIS WAY, SO NEGLIGENT"!!

Quivering in an agitated state of anger, I snapped back, " He hasn't fallen on his head like this till you two came in. He has it out to make me look bad. Look at you taking the side of a kid you didn't even birth". I stomped out of the room in dismay, not missing the smug smirk of the two year old devil incarnate, glinting his demonic dark eyes at me as though in laughter. He did it purposefully. I didn't have proof, but the mother fucking twit was out to get me.

You all may have thought I was delusional, but this was just the beginning of the torture this kid would put me through for the rest of my remaining lifetime.

------------------------------------

11 years later

Lounging at the pool on a fine summer's day, wearing a hot pink swimsuit and reading a historical romance novel---the definition of a perfect day. It was perfect, till a Satanic child decided to ruin it.

"CALLABUNGA!!!!!", a shriek pierced the air as a whirring tan little body jumped into the swimming pool, making my book and swimsuit completely drenched in salty chlorinated water. I coughed, having swallowed some of the water, sputtering out in disdain, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU NASTY KID?!!! I WAS FIVE FEET AWAY, HOW DID YOU STILL MANAGE TO GET ME SO WET"?!!!

The 13 year old who shouldn't even be close to capable of smirking sinisterly, capitulated rather proudly, "Stop yelling Ajumma. This is probably the first time you ever got a man to get you wet. Why be so angry about it"? He preened as though he were a cat that caught the cream.

I could feel indignation skitter across my skin, as my body shook in fury, "You miserable excuse of a kid!! More like the antichrist, should've had 666 taped to your bloody forehead when you were born". I got up and stormed out of the veranda. This kid was so immature and often didn't even act his age. Who even implied stuff of that nature at his age? Weird kid. I should probably stay away from him. He might end up like one of those psychopaths that show signs of insanity and perverseness early on.

If only my mom wasn't literally a best friend of his.

-----------------------------

8 years later

If the universe had a sense of humor- it sure had a cruel one. A rather vindictive, twisted bend of fate. Because why was I sitting here on the couch munching on potato chips, still working a mundane 9-5 job when my arch-nemesis was a start up millionaire.

The mischievous eyes, cool and calm glaring through the tv screen enraged me. Who knew the kid that was too busy clogging my pool filter with Doritos a few years ago would be this renowned, skilled, and rich?

The TV screen flickered to life as the host of the talk show smoothly drawled, "Now presenting our youngest start up giant of this year , tech prodigy and founder of NebulaSynx, Jeon Jungkook". My nostrils flared as I stared at the kid whose diapers I had painstakingly changed morph into a handsome man on the screen before my very eyes. Perfectly tailored suit. Freshly chiseled jawline. His narrow nose housing a dainty pair of gold rimmed glasses, jet black hair I remember detangling religiously for years slightly tousled.

The antichrist had grown up. The ominous, diabolical beast.

The host continued, "So, your software was innovative to the tech world, especially when it comes to AI and its military/security applications. What does your software exactly do though Jungkook? A brief description for the unaware youth watching our show if you would please".

Jungkook barely straightened up, in a relaxed pose on the couch as though he owned the place. His authoritative aura emitted through a mere tv screen. "Simply put, my software helps disable and decode military machinery security components , descry difficult to solve codes and passwords, and helps create uncannily accurate visual assumptions based on the data input it receives". He paused, looking at the audience with a half-smile, hair partially covering his electric eyes ,"To make it even simpler, if you got a machine gun, I can disable it with my software, without even manually touching it-- from a safe distance".

The audience gasped in awe, shocked at such a possibility.

The host of the show smiled, "That is seriously amazing Jungkook. It is a crazy, unheard of feat that you have achieved. Tell me, how exactly did you get the inspiration to launch a company with such mind-boggling software? And how did you first test it out"?

Jungkook chuckled.

Oh no, whenever that kid as much as smiles, it's always because he got away with something or accomplished something satanic enough to be that happy.

Looking back at the host with a delighted quirk of his mouth, he responded, "I was curious to see how someone looked naked. Not a very moral aim I admit. But a very necessary one". The audience snickered through the screen, vastly engaged by his lewd quip .

Where the hell was this going? My mind was buzzing.

He continued, not even ashamed, a fervor blazing in his eyes , "The only way was to use existing, normal pictures of her and use AI technology to ascertain the gaps as accurately as possible. I never did get a good picture of her. But, this initial endeavor lead me to other achievements and discoveries as you can see".

The host looked appalled and slightly amused, chiding him ,"Well Jungkook, that claim is rather shocking in nature. You sure you want to admit that on national TV? Wouldn't the lady, whoever she is, wherever she is, take offense to this"?

"She's been in my life since I was a little kid. I'm sure she wouldn't mind", he said with a dangerous, almost challenging glint in his eyes as he smirked at the screen. As if he knew. As if he bloody knew I would be watching. And with the dauntless confidence that he would be suffering no consequences from what he said and did. Like he always had. Since he was a baby.

This kid was a dead man walking. I would be going to jail, because there was no way that I was not going to murder this kid. Fuck my life.

[dissociativewriter]

Once Upon Another Time

Love and Deepspace x Phantom of the Opera

Pairing: Sylus x Christine (OC) x Caleb

wc: ~1.5k

cw: dramatics, implied murder, nothing too bad honestly, maybe actual murder eventually, consensual kidnapping (?) eventually, eventual; not proofread; no beta we die like Josephine

Synopsis: A singer at the opera house, Christine is faced with a Colonel from a childhood she barely remembers and a mysterious figure, called the Opera Ghost, who seems to know all the secrets of the opera house and beyond. Stuck between life above and below the opera house, Christine attempts to balance her care for the two men with her budding career in opera. Unfortunately, it seems neither man will settle for half of Christine’s love.

author’s note: I meant to update this earlier but I got distracted by Isekai!reader. I love this series though and it makes me kinda sad that it’s not getting a lot of notes :(

art found on Pinterest (springstorm art & sesame fruit)

Series Masterlist

4- The Mirror

“I’m fine, Raf, I promise.” Christine held his hands close to her chest as she reassured him. “There’s nothing wrong, it’s just paranoia,” she shrugged.

“Sometimes paranoia is right,” Rafayel huffed. His brows furrowed. “You’ll tell me if anything happens, right? If anything seems weird, you come to me.”

Christine let out a light laugh. “Goodness, you’re more worried than I am.”

“Someone has to be,” he whispered. “Christine, I think you should know—” A sharp yet comfortable knock on the door interrupted him, and his voice grew cold as he asked, “Who’s there?”

A slight hesitation. “It’s the Colonel. Is Christine there?” The voice was practiced, trying to place more warmth in his tone through the edge.

Rafayel scoffed. “She’s—”

“Yes, I’m here,” Christine spoke up. She dropped Rafayel’s hands as his head jerked to meet her gaze. “Don’t be mean. I should at least see what he wants,” she whispered.

A sigh. “Fine, just…” His eyes searched her own. “Just be careful.”

Rafayel gave her one final look before walking to the door, with Christine just a few steps behind. He opened it forcefully, his aggression barely concealed as he made eye contact with the Colonel. With crossed arms and a tilted head, Rafayel began his own interrogation.

“What do you need?”

“I’d like to talk to Christine.”

“About what?”

“It’s… private.”

Rafayel raised an eyebrow. “Anything you can say to Christine, you can say to me.”

The Colonel, initially allowing himself to be questioned with the assurance that this was just another person aiming to keep Christine safe no matter how incapable he was, was overcome with annoyance that was quickly seeping into anger. “Not everything involves you. I have a personal matter to discuss with Christine, and I’d advise you to step aside.” His voice was losing the barely-there warmth, giving way to the tone of a commander.

“Why should I leave you alone with Christine? I don’t want to put her in any situation where she feels unsafe, and you’re not exactly creating an air of security!” Rafayel’s hands dropped to his sides, his knuckles nearly white as they balled into fists.

The Colonel’s shoulders straightened, making him seem impossibly larger in the small doorframe. “Listen here—”

“Wait!” Christine grabbed hold of Rafayel’s sleeve, suddenly feeling nervous under the expectant stares of both men. “Raf, just go. I’ll be fine,” she said softly.

A triumphant smile made its way onto the Colonel’s face which greatly contrasted the icy glare he shot Rafayel. “You heard the lady.” He wore a cocky smirk as he sidestepped, leaving a space so Rafayel could leave.

Rafayel turned back to you one final time. “Anything,” he reminded you before quickly ducking out the door.

The Colonel watched him with a frown as he left, stepping into the dressing room and shutting the door behind him. His eyes were still harsh as they observed Christine before flicking around the rest of the room. “Are you two close?” He asked sharply.

Christine blinked at him. “I… guess so? Why do you ask?”

The Colonel still avoided her gaze, continuing to scan the dressing room. “I want to know if he deserves to treat you so casually.”

“Of course he does,” Christine said simply. “He’s my best friend.”

Caleb visibly flinched at this, his hardened eyes softening into something much more vulnerable. He grabbed Christine’s hands softly, leading her to sit down with him. He sat across from her, rubbing soft circles on the top of her hand with gloved fingers, contrasting the ironclad grip he had on her hands. Violet eyes searched her own and Christine shifted in her seat, unsure of why he had requested to meet her privately.

“I know you don’t remember me,” he began hesitantly, “but I remember you. And I don’t want to lose you again.” He sighed deeply, looking into her eyes for a sign of something, recognition or understanding.

Christine took a breath. “Colonel—”

“Caleb. Please.”

“Okay, Caleb,” Christine corrected. “I’m really sorry, but I still don’t recognize you at all. I don’t know what—”

“I know you don’t know who I am anymore,” he interrupted. “That’s fine. I can remind you. I can show you who I am. I can show you I’m someone you should care about.” Caleb took a deep breath. “Because I still care about you.”

Christine gaped at him. “I just don’t know what you want me to do,” she whispered, looking down at their entwined hands, fidgeting slightly.

“I want you to let me be in your life again. I want you to let me protect you.” His eyes burned with an intensity, and he ignored the hesitance on Christine’s face. “I want to keep you in a world where it’s just the two of us.”

Christine’s breath hitched, and she remained silent for a few seconds, unsure of what to say. Looking back up to meet Caleb’s eyes, she nearly flinched away from the barely concealed mania within them. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, trying not to notice how Caleb’s brows drew together. “It’s late. I don’t think you’re in the right state of mind right now. Maybe you’re tired or stressed. Either way, I think we should talk about this later, just not right now. Is that okay?”

At Christine’s promise of a future conversation, Caleb’s forlorn expression was replaced by one of hope. He hastily agreed, saying that he could give her time if that’s what she needed. That he could be patient, but didn’t want to be left out of her life. They had a quick goodbye, eager on Caleb’s part and unnerving on Christine’s.

She shut the dressing room door behind her, leaning against it with a loud sigh. She wasn’t sure how to deal with the Colonel. She definitely pitied him, but there was an air of wild passion around him that put her on edge. The sort of wild passion that leads to near-insanity.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she heard faint footsteps again, growing louder and heavier as they continued.

“Angel of Music?” she murmured.

“Ignorant boy! Trying to bask in your glory.” The voice was there again, losing the playful edge it had before in favor of a tangible tension. “What an ignorant fool! This brave young suitor thinks he is owed something!”

Christine chuckled slightly. “You really hate the Colonel, don’t you?”

“Is there a reason not to?” The voice responded coldly. “He sits there so proudly in his box, sharing in my triumph!” There was a deep sigh, and the voice was calmer, softer now. “I’m sorry, my dear. I lost my composure for a moment.”

She laughed again, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease. She moved to sit, opting to lean against the grand mirror.

The mirror was odd, being with the opera house since its creation. There were lots of rumors surrounding it just like Box 5, saying that it as haunted or something or other. Christine, at first somewhat suspicious of the mirror, had grown to admire it. It became a source of comfort, its strong scent of oak always calming her nerves.

“Tell me, Angel of Music, who are you?” Christine rubbed her eyes as if to rub away the fatigue, but she yawned nonetheless.

“I suppose, my dear, you shall know me, and see why in shadow I hide.” The voice was fond, if not a little stressed at Christine’s question. “Look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside.”

Her eyes, previously drooping shut, shot open and she jumped to her feet. She cautiously turned to the mirror, taking a few careful steps forward.

She took a short step back when she was meet with a pair of crimson eyes. Her breathing became shaky, her hands trembling slightly at her sides.

“Hello, Christine.” The man in the mirror tilted his head slightly, a soft smile on his lips as he observed Christine, though it quickly became a frown as her watched her expression. “Please, I don’t mean to frighten you.”

“Who are you?” She asked again.

The man cocked his head in confusion. “Did you really not expect your Angel of Music to be an actual person?”

“I didn’t expect him to be a tall, young, muscular man!” Christine sputtered, her hands waving emphatically. She sighed. “I don’t know what I expected.” She said, quieter now.

The man nodded, perhaps in understanding, perhaps in amusement, or perhaps a mix of both. “Sylus,” he offered.

Christine’s eyes snapped back to his own instead of the floor. “What?” she whispered.

“You asked for name.” He gave a bigger smile this time, still not showing all of it, but she could see the sharp tips of his canines if she looked closely. They reminded Christine of the canines of a predator, and she shivered involuntarily. “It’s Sylus.”

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masterlist

[sachikokuroichi]

Little Perks of Dating the Radio Demon

It was a recent development. Alastor had known that Lucifer tended to be vocal, not able to shut up and exist in complete silence for any amount of time. But even though he had come to terms with all his quirks and habits, this one was new.

No matter what he was doing, whenever he stopped concentrating on something, be it an activity or a conversation, he would start humming.

Sometimes, mostly while he was tinkering on the newest duck or cooking for the hotel staff, he’d even sing underneath his breath, only single words clearly audible. And Alastor was on the brink of going insane. What was this weird behaviour?

“Can you cease this nonsense?”

Lucifer, who hadn’t paid any attention, whirled around, kinda surprised to not be alone in the kitchen anymore, as he’s currently busy with today’s lunch.

“Huh? What do you mean? It’s my turn cooking today – and we talked about this! You said I should cook this!”

Now it was on the overlord to be confused, “Who is talking about the food? I’m talking about your nonsensical humming!” “Humming?” “Yes! You’re doing it nonstop! For the last week! You really want to tell me you didn’t notice?”

Lucifer stopped and thought about it. “Sorry! I had this song stuck in my head for quite some time. Maybe that’s the reason. I wish I could remember the whole song.”

Alastor felt a vein pulse angrily on his temple. All that nonsense just because his stupid king couldn’t remember a song and had a bit stuck in his little brain? And to add insult to injury, he didn’t even think of asking him, the radio demon, his fucking partner for two and a half years, to help with that certain request?

“Okay, you look pissed. You wanna tell me now, or let it simmer for some time before you explode on me, like you always do?”

Alastor took a deep breath, before crossing the kitchen in a few strides, invading Lucifer’s space, effectively cornering him against the counter, before answering,

“You’re way too lucky that there are some endearing qualities to your person, mon étoile, because let me tell you, your intelligence is definitely not one of those.” “Hey! I was only humming a song! No need to be so mean-!” “Yes! A song. That you couldn’t remember. But here’s an idea: Why not ask someone, who’s whole reputation is about radio, a medium that mostly features, could you guess it? Exactly! Songs! You get it now?”

Lucifer’s face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning, “You would do that for me? Really?”

Alastor sighed, posture deflating a bit and leaning into his stupid angel.

“Who else would I use my powers for, if not for you, Lucifer.”

A little cuddle session later, the king resumed his task of cooking, while Alastor watched.

“So… what do you need to find the song?” “Simple. I usually ask for the name or the artist, but seeing that you don’t have that, we do a reverse approach. You know some parts of the song. Sing them to me.”

A pretty easy request, at least in Alastor’s eyes. What he didn’t expect was Lucifer to gain a significant uptake in golden colour in his cheeks. Almost like…

“Are you blushing? What kind of song are you thinking of?!” “Nothing what you think! It’s just… one of the newer genres? And… maybe I only remember… a certain… part…”

Alastor shrugged, “Well, it can’t be that bad then… sing, my angel of music.”

Looking like a deer in headlights (it felt strangely nice to not be the one doing that for once), Lucifer kept silent for a few heartbeats. That’s before he turned around again, refusing to look at Alastor while doing this, forcing himself to keep all his focus on the lunch preparations.

He took a deep breath and started humming the tune, building up the courage to actually sing the words stuck in his head out loud.

“In the dark - I see your smile Do you feel my heat on my skin~”

But with every word spilling over his lips, the songs energy, the very thing that had captured his attention, (mostly because it reminded him of all the things Alastor made him feel on a daily basis), came back to him and made him sing the following lyrics proudly,

“Take off your clothes, blow out the fire Don't be so shy, you're alright, you're alright Take off my clothes, oh, bless me, father Don't ask me why, you're alright, you're alright~”

Alastor in the meantime hadn’t been prepared for how those few lines could possibly hit him.

The way Lucifer had just sung them to him, his beautiful voice, full of dark promises and temptation, serenading such lecherous words to him… it made him feel things.

Things he hadn’t been prepared for feeling anytime soon.

“So? You think you can work with that?”

Lucifer’s question ripped him rather violently out of his inner turmoil. Shaking his head, he hummed, pretending to have to think about it. Not like he was already a couple steps ahead, plotting, scheming.

The song? He already knew which kind of abomination had taken root in his beloved’s brain. But in this very moment Alastor had other concerns. Besides that, Lucifer wanted to hear that song again? Well, that could be arranged. And then… then he would make him sing to it.

A few days later, Alastor had requested Lucifer to meet him in the throne room of the palace. An unusual request, but the king was pretty used to his lover’s weird antics at this point.

Opening a portal and stepping through, his ears immediately picked up on the long lost music echoing through the vast room.

“Hey! You did manage to find the song after all! Good job!”

But weirdly enough, Alastor was nowhere to be seen.

“Alastor? Where are you?”

The song was still playing all around him, so he had to be here.

~Home I stay, I'm in, come in Can you feel my hips in your hands? And I'm laying down by your side~

And just then he felt a presence at his back, a very familiar power signature.

“I taste the sweet of your skin~”, Alastor purred against his neck before following through with his words and licking it, slowly, sensually, causing Lucifer to shiver. Before he could respond or react, the presence had vanished, melted into the shadows, and while he would’ve been able to sniff his love out, he felt like playing. The song was going strong still.

This time, Alastor’s voice was mingling with it, still from the shadows, following the chorus, and boy, did that dark voice do bad things to him.

That thought paled to the sight he was gifted in the next moment. Alastor, appearing right in front of him, in the very same nun-outfit he’d fought him in the first time they had met, before taking another step closer and – “Take off my clothes, oh, bless me, father” – going on his knees, hands folded like he was praying to him, “Don't ask me why, you're alright, you're alright~”

And let me tell you… there were no questions asked after this.

If you liked it, consider giving me some love on AO3 as well - link is in the title <3

[radioactive-alien-thing]

hi hello could you do reader x Folly where reader is traumatized/has similar struggles to Folly? Can be queerplatonic or romantic Idm!

heyyy hiii 😋 here’s some folly for you nonny hope you likeee!!!

you stare up at the empty ceiling, your mind full of thoughts that only came slowly, once at a time. the bad ones always linger around longer. these quiet moments with yourself have become quite normal, just you and the memories you can’t forget, still clinging to the back of your mind. it was awful. it made you feel numb. and being trapped in an elevator, trying to run away from your regrets, only made things worse.

which floor were you on? the aquarium? right, you almost forgot. you should really stop ‘zoning out’ so much… it’s starting to be a bit much. you didn’t really feel like getting up and going back to the elevator, so your eyes wander to the tanks, watching the fish swim around aimlessly. in a weird way, you felt kinda like them. constantly swimming in circles, stuck in the same places, never getting anywhere new.

a quiet sound caught your attention. soft, but with a strong presence. you knew who it was, you actually had a feeling she’d show up. even though neither of you were big social butterflies, there was a strange comfort in just being close to each other. folly never gave you clear answers about her past. just vague, confusing snippets that only left you guessing. but she saw a lot of herself in you, and you felt likewise.

“thinking again, are we?” her rough voice spoke up from behind you. you sat up, only to find her towering over you. she seems even taller now that you’ve been lying on the floor. it’s a little scary, but then you remember, it’s just folly. though you guess that doesn’t make it much less eerie.

“maaaybeee,” you replied with a cheeky tone, your gaze returning to the fish. her company was comforting, settling the chaos in your mind.

“careful, now. think too hard and you’ll fry that mortal brain of yours.” folly’s voice had a playful tone as she followed your gaze to the fish. perhaps she liked them too? you let out a soft huff, pulling your knees to your chest. folly sat beside you, leaving a small gap. yet you’ve noticed she always ends up closing it little by little each time you sit together.

“i wish i was a fish,” you mumble, glancing at folly to catch her reaction, and she let out a low chuckle.

“you already are. just stuck in a bigger tank.” she spoke without missing a beat and your cheeks flushed. yeah… you couldn’t really deny that.

you let out a sigh, sitting up straight. “aren’t we all?” you said with a soft chuckle, a small grin tugging at your lips. folly gave a slow nod in silent agreement.

“mm. i suppose we are, aren’t we?” the elevator behind you suddenly let out an impatient ding! as if urging you to go. oh well.

[spirestar]

V's laugh gives Cam a funny sharp feeling in the back of her neck--Like she's being watched. Or that she's seeing something she shouldn't. She hasn't heard him laugh like that before / Probably won't again. It's not like she hadn't been trying to make light of his question--She definitely had been. Teasing, even, this weird question mark of a person who actually listens to her for some reason even though he's never met her before coming to this city, who has no reason to trust her other than the fact Morrison asked her to come and she did. It's more than she can say for a lot of her clients. Scared people make for bad listeners, most especially when she's trying to save their asses. And everything he says after the laugh is just--"V that's just." She squints at him almost like she hopes he'll stop laughing and admit he's fucking around. But of course he doesn't. Why would he? "That's ridiculous. You need to get out more." Says the once-a-week bar visitor who could probably fill out a punch card for how many times she gets takeout to avoid eating in restaurants in a week, too. She's not taking any steps further down the road of this stupid topic. Maybe he's got weird allergies. Cam decides she's not going to care.

"Another job, sure." She sighs softly and tries not to read into the odd line of questioning as she leans over to draw on the crushed asphalt with her obsidian-covered fingertips, scratching a symbol into the surface made up of intricate intersecting lines. Cam half-wishes he'd go back to quoting his book so she could quit having to think of answers. They're close enough to the bend in the subway track that's hiding the nestled Qliphoth branches. She just has to blow the metal and concrete away and unveil the monsters underneath. "I don't leave until I'm done, though. S'why I wasn't here day one--" Cam stands back up and stretches her arm across her chest, her explosive sigil left incomplete so she can at least give poor V the courtesy of a warning. Her brows are still furrowed in that way he wanted to see and try not to laugh at, too: ????? "Then I had to drop by my place and feed my cat first. Important shit, obviously," this is a half-joke and she means for it to be, her lips tugging into a quarter of a wry smile, too. V doesn't seem like he does anything normal. He might as well know she does between work. Cam isn't boring, but she's not trying to be a Character like Dante is / was? At least if she makes it clear, then V will really know not expect her to go out of her way for him (even if she would). "Did you have any more questions, or...? Can you ask 'em after I bust this open?"

Priorities. He's lucky she can't hear Griffon's commentary. Vergil's suffering seems to have a vice grip on them all.

V is still Vergil--he finds the response of 'I'm getting cheeseburgers' so mundane his first instinct is to go to find it pitiable. The whole world extended like a map and what -- cheeseburgers? Why cheeseburgers when you turned your sister's killer into your pet? Don't you yearn for more, for more power? But the initial impulse passes and V's lazy smiles turns into a laugh, shaking his head so low over his chest his bangs might brush his sternum. Of course it's cheeseburgers. Still I do not understand humanity. The laugh threatens to tear his flesh apart. He isn't laughing very hard at all, too quiet by nature to really laugh in the ways people like Dante and Nico do, but Vergil tried not to laugh at all / such a small, insignificant thing can shatter V's constitution. He stoops down to pick up a particularly interesting bit of crystal. Although he's not sure why, he gets the feeling Nico might be able to make something interesting out of it, maybe a new Devil Breaker for Nero or something. V straightens and pockets it.

"I've only ever had a cheeseburger... once in my life..." he admits, raising his head again. Half-truth. V has only had one cheeseburger. Vergil, of course, has had quite a few. But he wants to see how Cam will look at this confession and try not to laugh--again--over her imperceptible brow quirking at his words, the slight shift under her eyes, the cartoon-like question marks that might bubble above her head like they do in comics. "I'd like to have one again." Although he probably won't get the chance, what with the lingering in Red Grave and Urizen looming above them with his jaws salivating for that apple from Blake's poem. V loves Blake desperately but he wishes just as desperately his demonic half hadn't clung to the words too...really...how on the nose can you get? It feels awfully vaudevillian, but then again they as Vergil have always been like that, even if they pretended otherwise.

Which brings him to Cam's next sentiment. Dramatic kings. Yes, V has had enough of those too. His smile goes wry again, an expression much more suited on his features than his eager laugh had been. "I'm tired of them too." He hopes when he returns to his-self that Vergil will remember this exhaustion and turn it into something better. "Glad we are in agreement. You weren't taken from some other job to come to Red Grave... were you?" Of course Urizen isn't the only demon in the whole world, but this had been priority #1 for those in the area, so he offers a vague consolatory hope for the struggling people Vergil's selfishness may have ripped Cam away from so she can occupy herself with dealing with his suffering (again).

V--if you don't want to be dramatic anymore, I'm afraid you're going to have better luck stabbing yourself in the chest with Yamato a second time and making two more people. I mean, come on. Be serious. You're not any better than Vergil.

I know that...

No! You don't! Vergil never quoted poetry out loud! Do you hear yourself?

[houseofwolvess]

sorry for the rapid fire rambling posts y'all. i don't know what's up rn but something's up

[coern-art-very-cool-and-nice]

the boy in the spotlight versus the girl in the mirror

unshaded version

[blackcatxmagic]

It was clear by the way that the other spoke that she could understand exactly what Vale was talking about, and it made him feel a slight kinship with her. "And then eventually it gets to be where you never have like, 'a long day,' not in relation to every other day," Vale said. "Then that's just how your days are." For a moment, Vale stared at the menu at the wall but not really reading it, lost in thought for a moment. And then a moment later, he snapped out of it. "Wow, sorry," he apologized. "You're a stranger, and I'm making this weird. Sorry again." It was bad enough when he fell into the darkness; Vale didn't need to share that with anyone, especially a stranger.

Wanting to pretend like he hadn't just made this weird, Vale focused on the pastry, which turned out to be easy because he really was hungry. "While you're really selling me on that cranberry muffin, I think I'm going to go with the cinnamon roll," Vale said, laughing a little though still thrown off from how this conversation had begun. As he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket to pay for the cinnamon roll, he replied, "And I'm Vale. Nice to meet you, Margot." He handed her the money he owed before taking the pastry, and he told her, "You know, I'm actually from here. I was born in the hospital here in town, though I've not lived here permanently since I was just a little guy." Vale lowered his hand down to about his mid-thigh, saying, "Roughly this size. But I visit kind of a lot since my brother lives here. And I guess I do now too. I'm probably Cardinal Hill's newest resident."

margot tilted her head slightly at his answer, a small smile plastered on her face. “every day being long… yeah. i get that,” she really did, a bit too much actually.

she gestured toward the pastry case with a slight nod. “you’re in luck. there’s one cinnamon roll left. it’s either that or a cranberry muffin that has been sitting there since opening.”

turning back toward the counter, she grabbed a napkin and a small paper bag, her hands moving with practiced ease. “welcome to cardinal hill. i’m margot,” she said over her shoulder, “you adjusting okay?”