#idk what this is but i just wanted to use this gif

[lostfracturess]

─── games and matches | ch. 01

pairing — satoru gojo x suguru's daughter reader

summary — after a night of partying and drinking, you run into none other than satoru gojo — your dad's infuriatingly hot best friend who you haven't seen in years. blame it on the alcohol, but you start flirting with him. and he flirts back. so, can it really be that wrong to want to fuck your dad's best friend? after all, what happens in the kitchen at 3AM stays in the kitchen, right?

word count — 13.2 k (chapter 1/3)

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, age difference, alcohol use, drunk sex, unprotected sex, penetration, fingering, edging, oral (female receiving), hair pulling, underwear in your mouth lol, in need of heavy daddy issues to enjoy this.

author's note — idk what to say about this, was in the mood to write something dumb and fun, so don't dwell too much on the plot and just enjoy the vibes of this story haha. happy reading !! comments and reblogs are love <3

masterlist + ao3 + wattpad

next chapter ->

"Well well, look who it is."

Suddenly, the light flickered on.

You froze, blinking rapidly as your eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. Heart racing, you spun around to find Satoru Gojo, your dad's best friend — no, scratch that, your dad's ridiculously hot best friend — leaning casually against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

You stood there in the doorway, taking in the sight of him. 

It had been years since you'd last seen him. You'd nearly forgotten about him — but not quite. He looked different now. Older. 

Hotter.

"Quite the late night, huh?" he remarked.

His piercing gaze raked over your barely-there party dress, taking in the way the short, black fabric clung to your curves. You could only imagine how you looked — smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, and cheeks flushed.

It was well past three in the morning on a Wednesday, and you'd just stumbled home from a college party, the remnants of cheap tequila still swirling in your bloodstream. 

The last thing you needed was a run-in with Satoru, especially when he looked so damn good in that black shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and a navy overshirt casually rolled up to his elbows. 

Life just wasn't fair sometimes.

"Fuck, Satoru. You scared me," you whisper-hissed, your voice a bit hoarse. "What the hell are you doing here at this hour?”

He raised an eyebrow, a slow, amused smirk spreading across his face. "I could ask you the same question, love. Don't you have classes in a few hours? Or did they start giving out degrees for partying these days?"

You rolled your eyes, slipping out of your heels and sighing in relief as your aching feet met the cool tiles. As you bent to arrange your shoes, your short dress rode up, the hem barely skimming the curve of your thighs.

"What does that concern you?"

"Because you're the daughter of my best friend, of course. Now, be a good girl and tell me where you've been."

You sighed. "I was at a college party, obviously.”

"You drunk?" 

“No," you lied, even as the remnants of tequila still thrummed through your veins, making everything pleasantly hazy around the edges.

Satoru's gaze followed your every move as you walked past him to the sink in the kitchen. The room suddenly felt smaller with his presence, the air thick. You reached for a glass from the cabinet, the hem of your dress riding up even further, a sliver of skin flashing in the dim light.

"That's quite the outfit for a college party," he commented, his gaze lingering on your exposed skin. 

You filled your glass with tap water. "It's a normal dress for a normal party. You're too old to know that. What, did they not have parties back in your day?" 

"I'm not that much older than you." 

"Yeah, like just a good 16 years or what?" you scoffed, taking a sip of water.

In the dim moonlight that spilled through the kitchen windows, you noticed the faint flush high on Satoru's cheekbones, the telltale glassiness in his normally sharp eyes. The subtle scent of bourbon clung to him.

He's drunk too, you realized with surprise.

You lifted your chin. "You're drunk."

"I'm not.”

"Oh really?" you challenged, setting your water glass down on the counter with a soft clink. "Prove it then. How many fingers am I holding up?"

You held up three fingers in front of his face. He squinted at your hand, before he reached out, his fingers warm as they wrapped around your wrist, tugging your hand down gently.

"That's not how you measure how drunk someone is. But I can assure you, I'm perfectly sober.” His gaze shifted down, resting on your chest. “Sober enough to see that dress of yours is way too low cut for a woman your age."

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you suddenly became acutely aware of just how much cleavage you were showing. You tugged at the neckline of your dress, trying to adjust it higher, but the silky fabric simply slipped through your fingers.

"I'm grown up now, if you haven't noticed. And besides, it's not that low.”

"If you say so.” He shrugged out of his navy overshirt. “But just in case, why don't you put this on? Wouldn't want you catching a cold in that scrap of fabric you're calling a dress."

He held out his jacket to you, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

"I'm not cold," you said, but even as the words left your mouth, a shiver ran through you. The kitchen tiles were cool beneath your bare feet, and the thin material of your dress did little to ward off the chill of the night air.

Satoru noticed, of course. 

His smirk widened. "Sure you're not. But humor me, will you?"

You glared at him. Finally, you snatched the jacket from his outstretched hand. "Fine. But only because I don't want to listen to you nag."

You shrugged into the jacket, immediately engulfed by Satoru's scent — a heady mix of expensive cologne, cigarette smoke and something uniquely him. The sleeves fell past your fingertips, and the hem hit your mid-thigh, covering much more of you than your dress did. You had to admit, it felt nice. 

Comforting, almost.

Satoru's gaze softened as he took in the sight of you drowning in his clothes. "There. Much better. Now you look less likely to give some poor teenage boy a heart attack."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

He grinned. "Part of my charm, love, can't you remember?”

You rolled your eyes. 

He hasn't changed a bit. Still the same old Satoru, with his quick wit and insufferable smirk. But damn if he didn't look good. 

The years had been kind to him, that's for sure.

You hopped up onto the kitchen counter, the cool marble sending a shiver up your spine as it met your bare thighs. Satoru's jacket rode up as you settled, the soft fabric bunching around your waist, but you were far too focused on the man across from you to care.

Blame it on the alcohol.

You picked up your abandoned glass of water, taking a long, slow sip as you watched him lean back against the opposite counter, his long legs stretched out before him, arms crossed over his broad chest.

In the dim light filtering through the blinds, shadows played across his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the subtle curve of his lips. God, he looked even better than you remembered him.

His gaze never left you, his eyes dark pools. His glance made you feel a strange warmth that spread through your body, a heat that had nothing to do with the tequila you'd consumed earlier.

But you pushed it away. 

It was just the alcohol talking, you told yourself. 

It had to be.

"So," you started. "You never did answer my question. What are you doing here at this hour?”

Satoru ran a hand through his tousled hair, the white locks falling back into place effortlessly. Damn him. "Well, your old man and I were out for drinks earlier. Celebrating closing a big case we've been working on."

You raised an eyebrow. "Dad doesn't usually stay out this late."

"No, he doesn't. Man's a total lightweight. Two bourbons in and he was ready to hit the karaoke stage".

You nearly choked on your water at the image. "Tell me you got that on video."

"Oh, you know it," Satoru grinned. "Blackmail material for a lifetime. But someone had to be the adult and get him home before he really made a fool of himself. Dropped him in bed right before you stumbled in, actually."

"My hero," you teased, taking another sip of water. "So, this big case, it was the Johnston trial, right? Dad mentioned it, said it was huge for your firm." You tilted your head, observing him. "You just here for the case, or are you sticking around?"

He shrugged, the movement casual, but you could see the glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Initially just for the case, but I'll be around for a bit to wrap things up. It was a team effort, though. Everyone put in a lot of long hours."

"Look at you, being all humble. Dad said you led this one. Said you absolutely destroyed the other side in court. Had them in tears, from what I heard."

"Oh, did he now?" His smirk widened, clearly enjoying the praise.

"Mhmm," you hummed, leaning back on your hands, the marble counter cool against your palms. "Seems the press is calling you a legal genius or something, too.”

"Well, they're not wrong, are they? I am pretty damn brilliant."

You huffed out a laugh. "Careful, counselor. Keep winning cases like this and that ego of yours might just burst."

"Ah, but you'd be there to keep me humble, wouldn't you?"

"I don't think anyone could keep you humble, Satoru. Least of all me."

"Oh, I don't know about that." He fixed you with his piercing blue eyes, the intensity making your breath catch in your throat. "I have a feeling you could bring me to my knees without even trying."

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry.

Damn him and his smooth lines. 

Satoru's eyes were dark, smoldering as they bore into yours. You felt pinned beneath his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest, your skin tingling with a strange sensation. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he broke the silence. 

"So, how's tennis going? I heard you're quite the rising star on campus. Beating all the boys and making them cry, huh?"

You scoffed. "Did you really expect anything less from me?"

"Nah, I always knew you'd be dominating the court someday. You were born to be a champ." 

"Oh, don't tell me you're a fan now," you said with a grin. "Want me to sign something for you before I get too famous and forget all about you?"

"Please, as if you could ever forget about me, love." 

You tilted your chin up, meeting his gaze head-on. "That ego of yours is something else, isn't it? How do you even fit through doorways with a head that big?" 

"Look who's talking. Your ego seems to be doing just fine too." 

His lips curled into a smirk. He fixed you with his gaze, those piercing blue eyes seeming to see right through you, sending shivers down your spine. It was unnerving, his gaze — and undeniably thrilling.

For a moment you thought he was flirting with you. But that couldn't be right. The alcohol must be messing with your perception, making you read into things that weren't there.

Then, he spoke again. "How was the party?"

"Oh. It was...fine, I guess. Pretty lame, actually."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? And here I thought college parties were supposed to be the highlight of your young adult life."

You shrugged, fiddling with the hem of his jacket. "Maybe for some people. But getting drunk off of cheap beer and watching my classmates make fools of themselves isn't really my idea of a good time."

"No?" He tilted his head, a lock of hair falling across his forehead. "Then what is your idea of a good time?"

“I don't know. Something more exciting than a frat party, that's for sure."

"Exciting, huh?”

Satoru's eyes glinted with mischief as he pushed off the counter. He walked over to the liquor cabinet where your father kept his prized collection and rummaged around for a moment before pulling out a bottle of top-shelf vodka.

"Well then," he drawled, grabbing two tumblers from the shelf above. "If the party was such a bust, why don't we make our own fun?"

He returned to you, placing the glasses on the counter beside your hip with a clink that seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet of the kitchen.

"And that's your definition of fun?" you asked. “Having drinks with your best friend's daughter at three in the morning?"

"Ah, but you're not just any daughter, are you?" He uncapped the vodka and poured a generous amount into each glass. "And besides, I'm curious. Those college boys at the party, they don't do it for you?"

He handed you your glass, his gaze never leaving yours. You took it, swirling the clear liquid and watching it catch the light. "Not really. They're all so... immature. All talk and no substance."

"Is that why you don't have a boyfriend? Because no one's managed to capture your interest?"

You emptied your glass in one satisfying gulp, the vodka burning a pleasant trail down your throat. You reached for the bottle, but Satoru was faster, his hand already at the neck, refilling your glass before you could blink.

"I guess," you admitted, watching the crystal tumbler fill with clear liquid. “That, and I've been busy with college, obviously. Dating hasn't exactly been a priority.”

"Mmm, I call bullshit.” He placed the refilled glass in your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. "A woman like you, with your looks? You could have any man you wanted, studies be damned."

Oh god, you thought, your mind racing. 

He's indeed flirting with you. 

And you're flirting back.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a nervous thrill that combined with the warmth of the alcohol was probably a bad thing.

Was this really happening?

Were you actually flirting with Satoru Gojo, the man your dad considered a brother?

But now, in the dim light of the kitchen, he was something else entirely. He looked good. Damn good. The kind of good that made your mind wander to places it definitely shouldn't. 

And the way he was looking at you, the way his gaze kept drifting to your lips, the way he leaned in just a little too close — it was clear he no longer saw you as just his friend's little girl. No, the heat in his eyes told you he very much saw you as a woman now. 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. 

"Maybe I'm just picky."

"Oh, really?" Satoru moved closer, until he stood beside you, his hip brushing against yours, his hands resting tantalizingly close to your thigh. "And what exactly are you looking for?"

You met his gaze boldly, emboldened by the alcohol thrumming through your veins. "I don’t know. Someone older. More experienced. Someone who knows what he's doing."

"Is that so?"

You hummed in response, setting your empty glass aside. "What about you, Satoru? Where's your girlfriend tonight? Or boyfriend, I don't judge."

"No girlfriend. No boyfriend either. I guess you could say I'm married to my work."

You raised an eyebrow, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass. "Really? The great Satoru Gojo, eternally single? I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it, love," he said, setting his own glass down. His eyes, the color of a summer sky, never left yours. "I'm a busy man. Relationships take time and effort, two things I don't have in abundance."

"Sounds lonely.”

Saotru's lips quirked up at the corners. "Oh, believe me I’m far from lonely. Just unburdened by the messy attachments that come with a relationship."

"Ah. So you're a love 'em and leave 'em type, are you?"

"I prefer to think of it as knowing what I want and taking it.” He leaned in closer. You could smell the vodka on his breath, the intoxicating scent of his cologne. "No strings, no complications. Just fun."

“Why does that not surprise me.”

Satoru reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered on your cheek, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. "What can I say, love? I'm a simple man with simple needs."

Heat washed over you at his touch.

Oh god, he was definitely flirting with you.

And even worse, you were shamelessly flirting back. 

But could you really be blamed? It had been years since you'd last seen him, and time had been more than kind to Satoru Gojo. He'd always been handsome, but now, with a few more years of wisdom and experience etched into his features, he was practically irresistible.

And let's be real, you were both a little drunk. 

It was the perfect recipe for a little harmless flirting. Because that's all this was, right? 

Harmless. 

Just two adults engaging in a bit of playful banter, a bit of stolen glances and charged tension. It didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything.

After all, he was your dad's best friend. 

This was just the alcohol talking, just the thrill of seeing each other after so long. In the morning, you'd both laugh it off, chalk it up to a bit too much vodka and the nostalgia of reunion. 

But even as you told yourself this, you couldn't ignore the way your heart raced at his proximity, the way your skin tingled under his gaze. Blame it on the alcohol, but the truth was, you were enjoying this. 

It was exhilarating.

You scoffed, trying to regain your composure. "Oh, I'm sure your needs are anything but simple, counselor.”

"Mmm, you might be right about that. I've been told I can be quite... demanding."

"Does that line ever work on women?"

He smirked. "I can't complain. It's served me well enough so far."

Oh, he's so confident.

It made you wonder what it would take to throw him off his game.

"Is that so?” You sat up straighter, a coy smile playing about your lips. "In that case, why don't we play a little game? See if that silver tongue of yours is as clever as you think it is."

His eyebrows shot up. “What did you have in mind?"

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Oh, just a classic. Truth or Dare. Unless of course, the great Satoru Gojo is afraid of a little challenge?"

Satoru's eyes narrowed, his smirk sharpening into something more predatory. "Oh, love. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

You leaned in closer. "Then why don't you enlighten me, counselor?"

His gaze dropped to your lips, and for a heart-stopping moment, you thought he might kiss you. But then he pulled back, his smirk widening. "Alright. You're on. But don't say I didn't warn you."

"Bring it on. I'm not afraid of you."

"Oh, we'll see about that.” He picked up the vodka bottle, refilling both your glasses with a practiced hand. He handed one to you, clinking his against it. "Ladies first. Truth or Dare?"

You took a sip of your drink, the vodka rushing pleasantly through your veins, making you bolder. "Dare."

He paused, his eyes glinting in the dim light. His gaze roamed over you with deliberate slowness, lingering on the curve of your neck, the swell of your breasts beneath the fabric of his jacket. You could practically feel the heat of his gaze, branding you.

"Take off my jacket."

"That's it? That's your big dare?"

He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm starting you off easy. Wouldn't want to scare you off too soon."

You scoffed, setting your glass down. "Please. It takes more than a little strip tease to scare me."

With deliberate slowness, you hooked your thumbs into the neckline of Satoru's overshirt, your fingers grazing the heated skin of your chest as you pulled the fabric apart. His eyes followed your every move, the blue irises darkening with each new inch of exposed skin.

You shrugged the overshirt off your shoulders, letting it pool around your elbows. The cool air of the kitchen kissed your exposed skin, causing your nipples to harden beneath the thin fabric of your dress.

"Your turn, counselor. Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," he replied without hesitation, taking a long sip of his vodka.

You leaned back on your hands, the cool marble of the countertop a welcome contrast to the warmth spreading through your body. Tilting your head, you made a show of considering your options, drawing out the suspense.

"Take off your shirt."

His eyebrows shot up. "Didn't take you for the forward type, love."

You shrugged one shoulder. "What can I say? I appreciate a good view."

"Is that so? Well then, who am I to deny a woman what she wants?"

With equally deliberate slowness, he reached for the hem of his shirt, his gaze never leaving yours as he began to lift it inch by tantalizing inch. Your breath hitched in your throat as smooth, pale skin was revealed, stretched taut over toned muscles that rippled beneath his touch.

He pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it aside. Your eyes drank him in greedily, tracing the defined ridges of his abdomen, the broad expanse of his chest, the subtle play of light and shadow on his skin.

The waistband of his pants hung low on his hips, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of white curls trailing down from his navel.

God, he was gorgeous. 

All lean, hard muscle and power.

"See something you like?" He asked, a boyish grin spreading across his face.

You dragged your gaze up to his, your pulse pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the vodka. "I'm not blind. You're... easy on the eyes."

"Wow, that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Why?" you challenged, tilting your head. "You’re craving my attention, Satoru?"

“That’s a question for a truth, isn’t it? Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said.

He tilted his head to the side as he considered you. "Did you make out with any guys at that party tonight?"

“Yes.”

“Did you fuck him?"

"Quite bold of you to ask your best friend's daughter that question.”

He shrugged, unrepentant. "What? It's a valid question. So, did you?"

You hesitated, biting your lip. "Almost."

"Almost?"

You held his gaze, as he watched you over the rim of his glass. "I don't know. One minute we were all over each other, and the next...I just wasn't feeling it anymore. It got boring."

Satoru threw back his head and laughed, a deep, resonant sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "You really are the bane of every university boy's existence, aren't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He grinned, his eyes dancing with amusement. "It means, love, that you're a goddamn tease. Getting them all hot and bothered, then leaving them high and dry. It's almost cruel."

You scoffed, taking another sip of your drink. "It's not my fault they couldn't keep my interest.”

"Oh, I'm sure," he replied, taking a long, slow sip from his own glass.

You watched as his throat bobbed with each swallow, your eyes tracing the strong column of his neck down to the defined hollow of his collarbone. God, even the way he drank was hot. It was infuriating.

He set his glass down, his tongue darting out to catch a stray drop of vodka on his bottom lip. Your gaze followed the movement, heat curling in your stomach.

"Alright," he drawled. "Your turn. Truth or Dare?"

You lifted your chin, holding his gaze boldly. "Dare."

"Brave choice. I like it."

He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his bare chest, the pose showcasing his lean, muscular physique. Your mouth went dry as you took in the sight of his defined biceps flexing with the movement.

"Slip those straps of your dress off your shoulders.”

"Wow, Satoru. Why not just ask me to strip the whole dress off?"

"But where's the fun in that?" he countered, a wicked grin playing about his lips. "Besides, that's a job for me."

You hesitated for a second.

A small voice in the back of your head whispered that you were treading treacherous waters, that letting things go further with Satoru was a bad idea. But the alcohol flowing through your veins and the heat in his gaze silenced your better judgment. 

It was just a bit of harmless fun, right? 

No need to overthink it or make it into something it wasn't.

Slowly, you reached for the straps of your dress, sliding them down your shoulders, one after another. The silky fabric whispered against your skin as it fell, the neckline dipping precariously low, just barely concealing your hardened nipples beneath the lace edge of your bra that peeked out.

Satoru's gaze followed the movement, his eyes darkening as more and more of your skin was revealed. His jaw clenched, his fingers flexing against his biceps as he watched you, the air between you thick with tension.

You leaned forward slightly, your hands gripping the edge of the countertop, the cool marble a stark contrast to your overheated skin. You pressed your arms against your chest, pushing your cleavage together, the dress threatening to slip further with each heaving breath.

"See something you like?" you mirrored his words back to him.

Satoru huffed. He reached for his glass, bringing it to his lips and taking a long, slow sip, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, he moved to stand right before you, placing the glass beside your thighs, each of his hands coming to rest on either side of you, caging you in.

“Truth or dare.”

"Truth," Satoru said, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Getting shy on me now, counselor?”

"Oh, trust me. There's nothing shy about me. But I don't think you can handle me fully stripped."

You scoffed, even as a shiver of anticipation raced down your spine, your skin prickling with goosebumps. "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

He leaned in closer, his breath fanning across your cheek, warm and intoxicating. "With good reason, love. I've never had a complaint."

Your pulse jumped, heat pooling low in your core, your thighs clenching. This was dangerous territory, toeing the line of no return. If you weren't careful, you'd end up doing something very, very stupid.

Like finding out first-hand if Satoru's claims were true.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his proximity, the way your nipples tightened and your breathing grew shallow. "I thought we were playing Truth or Dare, not stroking your ego."

"Oh, we are. And I believe it's your turn to ask a question."

You bit your lip. "Why do you have the daughter of your best friend undressed in the middle of the night on a random Wednesday?" 

His lips curved upward, his fingers flexing against the countertop on either side of your hips. "I don't know, maybe because she didn't get what she needed at the party."

"And what do I need?"

Satoru's eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to your parted lips, lingering there for a moment before flicking back up to meet yours. 

"I think you need someone who knows how to appreciate you, love. Someone who can make you feel things those fumbling college boys never could."

"And you think you're that someone, do you?"

"Oh, I know I am. I could make you feel so good, you'd forget your own name."

Shivers ran down your spine as want battled with reason. It would be so easy to give in, to let Satoru have his wicked way with you. But the rational part of your brain knew it was a terrible idea. Still, you couldn't help but lean into him.

"That's a bold claim," you managed, your voice breathier than you would have liked. "But I'm not sure I believe you."

"No? Then how about another dare, since you're feeling so brave?"

Your stomach flipped, nerves and anticipation tangling together. "What did you have in mind?"

His smile was slow, predatory. "I dare you to let me prove it to you."

"Prove what, exactly?"

He leaned in, until his lips were a hair's breadth from yours. "That I can make you feel better than anyone else ever has."

You inhaled shakily, your fingers curling tighter around the countertop edge. "And how do you propose to do that?"

"However you want me to, love. I could use my hands, my mouth, could touch you in places no one else ever has. Make you come so hard, you can do nothing but beg for more."

A shudder ran through you at the promise in his words, your core clenching with need. You could picture it all too clearly — Satoru's hands on your body, his fingers sliding over your skin, wandering lower and lower. His mouth hot and hungry on yours, trailing kisses down your neck, your chest, lower still—

You fought back a moan, trying to maintain some semblance of composure even as your body screamed for his touch. Reaching for your glass, you took a slow, deliberate sip of the vodka, holding his gaze as the liquid burned down your throat.

"Is that so?" you said. "And what makes you think I'd ever beg for you, counselor?"

"Oh, you'll beg. I'll make sure of that. I'll tease you until you're dripping wet and aching for me, until you can't think of anything but how badly you need me inside you. And then, when you're right on the edge, when you're so desperate you can barely breathe,” He leaned in closer, his lips nearly brushing yours, “that's when I'll make you beg."

"You sound pretty confident. But I'm not sure you can back up all that big talk."

Satoru pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes burning with a fierce, hungry intensity. "Oh, I can back it up, love. And then some."

His hand slid up your thigh, his fingers skimming the sensitive skin just beneath the hem of your dress. "But the question is," he continued, his fingers tracing maddening patterns on your inner thigh, his touch light and teasing, "are you ready for me to prove it to you?"

"One dare?"

"One dare is all I need, love."

You shivered at his promise, heat rising deep in your core, your body aching for his touch. God, the things this man did to you—

But you wouldn’t give in that easily. After all, where was the fun in that?

Emboldened, you let the dress slip a bit lower, revealing more of the lacy edge of your bra. "As tempting as that sounds, counselor, I'm afraid I'm going to have to pass on that particular dare."

"Oh? And why's that?"

You shrugged one shoulder, aiming for nonchalant even as your heart raced in your chest. "Maybe I'm not ready for you to put your money where your mouth is. Maybe I want to savor the anticipation a little longer."

"Is that so? Well then, how about another truth instead? Since you seem so fond of them."

Nerves fluttered in your stomach, but you refused to back down. "Hit me."

Satoru leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, his breath hot against your skin. "Have you ever touched yourself while thinking of me?"

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry, your brain short-circuiting as a wave of heat washed over you. Because the truth was—

He pulled back, his eyes searching yours, a knowing glint in their azure depths. "You have, haven't you? You've laid in bed at night, your hand between your thighs, picturing me doing all sorts of things to you."

You didn't need to confirm it, he could tell by the way you trembled as his lips trailed along the line of your jaw, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake.

"Tell me, what was I doing to you?" He caressed the sensitive skin of your throat with his lips, drawing a gasp from your parted lips. "Was I kissing you? Touching you?"

"Yes," you panted, your fingers curling into his silky hair, holding him against you, all good reason vanishing into thin air.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending sparks of need skittering down your spine. "Did you come, love? Muffling those pretty moans in your pillow as you cum with my name falling from your lips?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your thighs clenching at the memory — the way you'd writhed against your sheets, your fingers stroking your slick heat, chasing the release that only thoughts of Satoru could bring you.

"Yes," you whispered. “Every single time."

His eyes darkened, his pupils blown wide, his breathing growing ragged. "Where did you imagine me touching you, love? Show me."

Heart pounding, you reached for his hand, your fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against his warm, calloused skin. Slowly, deliberately, you guided his hand to your neck, your breath hitching as his fingers skimmed over your racing pulse.

"Here," you whispered. "I imagined your lips on my neck, your teeth grazing my skin.”

Satoru's fingers tightened on your throat, a possessive gesture that made your core clench. Leaning in, he brushed his lips over your neck, his touch feather-light, teasing. You shivered as his breath ghosted over your sensitive skin, goosebumps rising in its wake.

"Like this?" His lips traced a path of fire from your jaw to your collarbone, his teeth nipping gently at your skin. "Is this how you imagined it?"

“Yes,” you gasped, your head falling back to give him better access, your fingers tangling in his hair. “Just like that."

His tongue flicked out, tasting you, savoring you, as his lips mapped every inch of your neck, finding all the spots that made you shudder and moan.

"Where else?"

Biting your lip, you guided his hand lower, over the swell of your breasts, your nipples tightening beneath the thin fabric of your dress. "Here," you breathed, arching into his touch. "I pictured your hands cupping my breasts, your fingers teasing my nipples.”

Satoru groaned, his control slipping a notch. 

His hand curved over your breast, molding to your shape, his thumb brushing over your nipple in a maddening caress. "Fuck, you feel perfect.”

He tugged at the neckline of your dress, exposing more of your chest to his gaze. Dipping his head, he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to your chest, his tongue darting out to lick over your heated skin.

His lips trailed lower and lower until they hovered just above your nipple, his breath hot and damp against your sensitive skin. And then, he closed his lips around your nipple and sucked, hard, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

You cried out, your back arching into him, your fingers clutching at his bare shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

He caressed your breasts, licking and sucking and biting until you were writhing and whimpering. His fingers plucked at your other nipple, rolling the sensitive peak between his thumb and forefinger until want coursed through your veins like molten lava.

"Keep going, love. Show me where else you want my hands."

Emboldened by his words, you slid his hand lower still, his lips still on your breasts, over your stomach, your muscles quivering beneath his touch. 

Lower, lower, until his fingers were brushing the hem of your dress, dipping beneath the fabric to skim the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You shuddered as his fingers crept higher, teasing you, tormenting you with fleeting, feather-light touches.

"Here," you gasped, your thighs parting. "I touched myself here, imagining it was your hand between my legs, your fingers buried deep inside me, filling me, making me come.”

His fingers inched higher, skimming over your damp, lace-covered sex, making your moan softly. He rubbed slow, maddening circles over your cloth clit, the friction delicious but not nearly enough.

"You're so wet," he marveled, his fingers sliding under the edge of your underwear, gliding through your slick folds with a tortuous, leisurely stroke. "So hot and ready for me. Tell me, love, is this all for me? Do you get this worked up just from the thought of my hands on you?"

You whimpered as his fingers parted your folds, running lightly along your slit, barely grazing your aching clit. He was teasing you, exploring you with a maddening, light touch that set your nerves ablaze, making you part your legs wider for him.

"Yes," you gasped, your head thumping back against the cabinets as he circled your entrance with a single finger, dipping in just to the first knuckle before retreating. "Yes, Satoru, all for you. Only for you.”

He groaned at your admission, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he fought for control. "Fuck, the things you say. You have no idea what you do to me, how badly I want to just bury myself inside you and fill you up so bad.”

But still, he held back, his fingers continuing their lazy, tortuous exploration of your slick heat. He gathered your wetness, spreading it up and over your clit, circling the swollen nub with a slippery, gliding pressure that made your thighs shake and your breath come in shallow pants.

"Satoru," you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders, your hips rolling shamelessly against his hand. "Quit your games. I need more, need you inside me."

He chuckled, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck with his teeth. "Patience, love," he chided, his fingers dipping back down to your entrance, swirling around the rim in mad, spiraling circles. "I want to savor this.”

He punctuated his words by pressing one long, thick finger inside you in one slow, smooth glide. Your back arched, biting your lips to swallow the scream that tore from your throat as your inner muscles clenched around his finger.

"Fuck, you feel incredible." He pumped his finger in and out of your clutching heat, curling it against your front wall. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock."

He added a second finger, stretching you deliciously, filling you in a way that was maddeningly good but still not enough. He scissored his fingers inside you, stroking your slick walls, teasing your most sensitive spots until you helplessly moaned into his mouth that hovered over yours.

"Look at you," he marveled, his eyes hot and heavy on your face, drinking in every expression of pleasure that flickered across it. "So responsive, so desperate for my touch. I bet I could make you come just like this, couldn't I? Just with my fingers buried inside you, rubbing all the right spots until you soak my hand and scream my name."

"Yes, oh god, yes—more, Satoru. I need more, make me come.”

But instead of giving you what you so desperately craved, Satoru withdrew his fingers from your aching core, leaving you empty and bereft. You whimpered at the loss, your eyes flying open to meet his, a protest ready on your lips.

But the words died in your throat as you took in the wicked, hungry gleam in his gaze, the predatory curve of his lips. "Oh, I'll make you come, love. But where's the fun in doing it with just my fingers?"

Before you could even begin to process his words, he was sinking to his knees before you, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading them wide. Your dress rode up to your waist, exposing your lace-covered sex to his gaze. 

With that, he dipped his head, his breath hot against your aching skin. He pressed soft and wet kisses to your inner thighs, his lips and tongue and teeth teasing you until you were squirming and whimpering above him.

"Satoru, please," you begged, your fingers tangling in his hair, trying to guide his mouth where you needed it most. "Stop teasing. I need your mouth on me. I need you to make me come."

"What, you begging now? I thought you said you didn't beg for anyone."

“Oh shut up and go to work already.”

"So impatient," he murmured, nipping at your inner thigh with his teeth. "But I'm not done savoring you yet." With that, his mouth trailed up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your aching core with every kiss and nip and lick. 

Your breath came in shallow pants, your hips grinding subtly against his face, seeking more contact, more friction.

When he finally reached your core, he didn't dive in like you expected. Instead, he placed a soft, almost reverent kiss to your sex, his lips lingering, savoring the heat and the dampness and the scent of you. 

"Fuck, you're so perfect." 

Then his tongue darted out and licked a broad stripe up your clothed sex.

You moaned, your thighs falling open even wider, offering yourself up to him. "Please, Satoru," you whispered. "Please, stop your stupid teasing and fuck me already. Please, Satoru, please, please—"

For a moment, he didn't respond, and you thought he might continue to torment you. But then he slowly pushed your underwear aside with his finger. 

He placed soft, delicate kisses all over your sex, tracing your slit with the tip of his tongue, circling your entrance, flicking over your clit in feathery strokes that made you melt.

But it wasn't enough. You needed more. You needed him.

You arched into his face, your hands fisted in his hair, holding him against you. "More. Satoru, damn it, more, fuck me with your mouth, please, please.”

"Fuck, I love it when you beg.” With that, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, the fabric stretching taut as he began to pull them down. “I think you've earned a little reward."

His eyes never left yours, watching your reactions as he slowly undressed you. You gasped at the sudden exposure, the cool air of the kitchen kissing your heated flesh. He slid your lacy fabric down your legs, taking his time to savor the moment. 

Once they were off, he straightened up again, and leaned into you.

"Open your mouth," he commanded.

You hesitated for a moment, but something in his eyes told you there was no point in refusing. You parted your lips and allowed him to stuff the underwear into your mouth. The taste of your own arousal filled your senses.

"Be quiet for me, will you? We don't want to wake Suguru after all.”

Before you could even begin to think about how wrong this all was, Satoru was between your legs again, burying his face between your thighs and under your dress.

You cried out, muffled by the fabric in your mouth, as he licked a broad, flat stripe up your slit, from your entrance to your clit, the warm, wet rasp of his tongue making you squirm. 

He did it again, and again, setting a slow but steady rhythm, his tongue parting your folds, delving deeper with each pass, until he was fucking into your entrance with his tongue.

Your back arched into him, your thighs clamping around his head, but he held you steady, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you spread open for his mouth. 

"Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined.”

He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking hard, the feeling so intense it bordered on too much. He sucked your clit between his lips, flicking it with the tip of his tongue until you were shaking.

You whimpered around the fabric in your mouth that Satoru stuffed inside you to make sure that no one in the house could hear the sinful things he was doing to you as he worked you mercilessly, his tongue dancing over your clit, flicking and swirling and lashing, driving you higher and higher with every pass.

Satoru seemed to understand your body perfectly, reading your desperation in the arch of your spine, the clench of your thighs around his head, the needy, broken sounds that escaped around the fabric in your mouth.

"You want to come, don't you, love? You need it so badly, need my mouth to push you over the edge. But I'm not sure you've earned it yet. I think you can take a little more teasing, a little more torment. What do you think?"

You shook your head frantically, tears of frustration pricking the corners of your eyes. You couldn't take any more, you were sure of it. If he didn't let you come soon, you would surely lose your goddamn mind.

He pressed a soft, almost mocking kiss to your throbbing clit. "No? You don't think you can handle it? But you've been such a good girl, taken everything I've given you so beautifully. Surely you can hold on just a little longer for me."

You let your head fall back, teeth biting into the fabric, so you would keep quiet and just endure his torture. You would do anything, anything at all, if he would just have mercy on you, if he would just give you the release you so desperately craved.

Satoru seemed to sense your surrender. "That's my girl. Just a little longer, I promise. And then I'll make you feel so good.”

He suited actions to words, his mouth descending on you again, his tongue thrusting and swirling and lashing over your clit, driving you to new heights of pleasure with every skillful stroke.

You could feel your orgasm building, ready to snap at any moment. Your thighs were shaking, your stomach clenching, your breath coming in short, sharp pants.

Without warning, he thrust two fingers into you, the sudden stretch burning. His fingers were thick, stretching you deliciously, and you could feel every ridge and callus on his skin. He began to move, thrusting his fingers in and out, hard and fast.

"Good girl, take me in, take me deep."

And then, with a final, bruising suck on your clit and a deft thrust of his fingers into your clenching heat, you felt your orgasm crashing over you, tearing a ragged, muffled scream from your throat.

You shook and shuddered and sobbed through the aftershocks, your inner muscles clamping down on Satoru's plunging fingers. He worked you through it, his mouth and hand gentling but never stopping, drawing out your pleasure until you felt you might die here and there.

"You really come easily, love. Makes me wonder what the college boys did wrong?”

You wanted to curse at him, but you could only whimper in response, your body feeling like it was made of jelly, your mind blissfully blank.

He pressed a final kiss to your clit before straightening up. Then he removed your underwear from your open mouth, allowing you to breathe properly for the first time, but not long enough for his lips to collide with yours.

And then you realized that you were kissing Satoru Gojo for the very first time in your life.

Because Satoru Gojo managed to make you come before he ever kissed you.

It was a deep, sensual kiss that stole what little breath you'd managed to regain. You could taste yourself on his tongue. Satoru moaned into your mouth, his hips grinding against yours, the hard, hot length of him pressing insistently against your thigh. 

He reached for your hand and guided it downwards, encouraging you to touch him through the fabric of his pants. Even with the barrier of clothing, you could feel the heat of his hard length pulsing beneath your palm. 

He was hard and thick, throbbing beneath your touch, and you couldn't help but wonder what he would feel like, skin against skin.

"Feel what you do to me.” He broke the kiss to trail his lips down the column of your neck. "Feel how hard I am for you, how much I want you, how much I need to be inside you, need to feel you squeezing my cock."

"Then do it already." Your legs fall open in invitation, your hands clutching at his belt, urging him closer. "Fuck me, Satoru."

With trembling fingers, you fumbled with the button and zipper in your haste to remove the barriers between you. His hands joined yours, his eyes locked with yours as you worked together to remove his clothes.

You couldn't help but gasp as his cock sprang free, long and thick and perfect. 

“Fuck.” 

The head was flushed and glistening, evidence of his need for you. Your mouth went dry at the sight, a fresh flood of want coursing through your veins.

"Told you I never had any complaints.”

“Oh shut up.” You reached out to wrap your fingers around his length, marveling at the way he pulsed and throbbed in your grip. He was scorching hot and rock hard, and you couldn't wait to feel him inside you, stretching you, filling you, completing you.

Slowly, teasingly, you began to stroke him from base to tip and back again, your grip firm and sure. 

He let out a low moan, his head falling back and his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself to the feeling of your touch. His hands gripped your hips almost bruisingly, his fingers digging into your soft skin.

“Is this payback now?”

"Why? Can't handle a little teasing, counselor?"

"You play a dangerous game, love. Because I will not stop until I've fucked you senseless, until I've ruined you for anyone else. You're mine now, and I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

You leaned in closer, your lips just a hairsbreadth from his, your breasts pressing against his heaving chest. "Then prove it. Ruin me for anyone else but you.”

Your hand stroked him faster, harder, your grip tightening around his throbbing length. You could feel him growing even harder in your palm, cum leaking from the tip and slicking your fingers, making the glide even smoother.

Satoru was panting now, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he fought to maintain control. “You sure you’re up to this?”

"I dare you," you breathed against his lips.

Satoru didn't hesitate for even a heartbeat. 

His hands left your hips to fist in your hair, pulling you close. His lips crashed against yours, firm and demanding, a claim and a conquest all in one.

He licked along the seam of your mouth, seeking entrance, and you granted it readily, your lips parting on a sigh of surrender. His tongue swept inside, tangling with yours. He explored every inch of your mouth, mapping the contours, savoring your unique flavor like a man starved.

He kissed you deeply, thoroughly, with a skill that left you weak and dizzy. 

Your hands roamed restlessly over his broad shoulders, his muscular back, before tightening in his hair. Your fingers played in his hair, scratching lightly over the short part at the back of his neck and tugging on the longer locks. 

Satoru seemed to really like it, groaning into your mouth and pulling you even closer. His hips rocked against yours, the thick ridge of his cock pressing insistently into you.

"Satoru, please, take me already, need you inside me."

“Can you keep quiet for me, love?”

“Yes, yes. I can be so quiet, please Satoru.”

“Good, because we’ll have a problem if you can’t.”

Satoru's hands slid down from your hips to grip your thighs, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he lifted you up from the kitchen counter like you weighed nothing. 

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms around his neck as he held you close, never breaking the kiss. He carried you out of the kitchen and into the living room, navigating the familiar space.

This wasn't the first time he'd been here, after all.

When he reached the couch, Satoru threw you onto the plush cushions. Before you could even catch your breath, he was on you again, his big body covering yours, pinning you to the sofa. 

He grasped your hands and forced them over your head, lacing your fingers together as he pinned you down, taking control in a way that had your breath hitch.

He started kissing and licking his way down your neck, finding all your favorite spots, the places that made you shiver and gasp, exploiting them ruthlessly. His free hand slid down your chest, over the curve of your breast, teasing your nipple. 

"Fuck, Satoru. Feels so good,” you gasped, your head falling back as his lips trailed hot kisses down your neck.

"God, why didn't we do this sooner?" Satoru groaned against your skin. "Think of all the nights we could've spent together, all the time we could've spent fucking each other's brains out."

"Because you were busy being a lawyer overseas, and I was stuck in college."

"Trust me, love, I would've made it work, would've moved back here, and have you bent over the desk in my office, not giving a damn who heard. Would've driven to your college every weekend, just to bury myself in you and make you scream."

His words had you throbbing with need. You could practically feel it — the hard wood of his desk against your skin, the scratchy sheets of your dorm bed underneath you as he pounded into you.

Satoru started grinding against you, rubbing his hard cock right where you needed it most. 

"I could've sucked you off under your desk while you worked," you panted. "Wrapped my lips around your dick and swallowed you down until you couldn't think straight."

"Fuck, and I would've eaten you out in return, snuck into your room and buried my face between your thighs until you forgot your own name."

The thought alone had your core clenching desperately around nothing. You needed his skin on yours like yesterday.

Satoru must've read your mind, because suddenly he grasped the hem of your dress and yanked it up and over your head, throwing it somewhere behind the couch. You were left in only your lacy bra, your skin flushed and heated.

"You're fucking stunning.” His eyes raked over your body as if he wanted to devour you whole. Like he couldn't quite believe you were real, that you were here, that you were his. "I'm the luckiest man alive, getting to see you like this, getting to touch you like this."

He released your wrists, but you kept them obediently above your head, gripping the armrest like a lifeline. His hands roamed all over your hips and thighs, knees pushing your legs apart until you were spread wide open for him.

Satoru reached between your bodies, rubbing the tip of his dick against your dripping core. You could feel him sliding through your wetness, teasing your clit with every stroke, making you whimper and squirm with how badly you needed him inside you.

But he didn't push inside. Instead, he just rubbed himself against you, teasing your clit with every pass.

"Satoru, please," you said, trying to arch your hips, to get him to slip inside. But he held you down, his grip on your hip too strong to fight.

"Please what, love? Use your words.”

You swallowed hard, your pride warring with your desperation. But fuck it, you were too desperate to care about your pride right now. "Please fuck me. I need you inside me, need to feel you inside me. Please, please just fuck me already."

He cursed under his breath, his hips pressing against yours, the head of his cock catching on your entrance. But still, he didn't give in. 

"C'mon, you can do better than that."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the needy sounds that wanted to spill out. "Satoru, I'm fucking begging you here. I need you. Please, I'll do anything, just give me your stupid dick already."

"Fuck, the things you do to me," he gritted out, his control finally snapping. And then, with one hard, deep thrust, he was balls-deep inside you, stretching you out so good it made your eyes roll back.

You bit down hard on your lip to keep from screaming, your back arching off the couch, your nails digging into the armrest. He felt fucking huge like this, so thick and hard and perfect, hitting spots you didn't even know could feel this good.

"You're so tight." His forehead dropped to your shoulder as he tried to keep it together. "So fucking perfect. Like you were made for me." 

"Satoru," you whined breathlessly. "You're so big, fuck, I feel you everywhere."

He let out a strained chuckle. "Can't help it if those college boys you fucked before had pathetically small dicks. Guess you just needed a real man to show you what's what, huh?"

“Oh, shut up.”

Then, without warning, he slammed back in, burying himself to the root in one brutal stroke. He didn't give you a chance to adjust, didn't let you catch your breath. He simply took you, hard and fast and deep, claiming what was his.

He grabbed your legs and threw them over his elbows, spreading you even wider, opening you up completely for him before he pounded into you, his cock hitting deep with every thrust. 

When you opened your mouth to moan or scream or fucking something, he clamped his hand over it, muffling the noise. "Shh. What'd I say? Quiet, love."

You could feel his breath on your face, hot and heavy, as he fucked into you harder and faster. Your muffled cries were barely audible under his palm, making everything feel even more desperate.

You could hear skin slapping on skin, the wet noises of his cock pounding into your soaked core, the smothered gasps and whimpers spilling from your covered mouth. You could feel every inch of him as he moved inside you, the feeling almost too much to take.

Each thrust was harder than the last, his hips slamming into yours so hard it made the couch shake. He was relentless, his pace brutal, as he took you, claimed you, made you his fucking property. 

You could feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in your core, ready to snap at any second.

Suddenly, Satoru shifted your positions, his strong hands gripping your hips as he rolled onto his back and brought you with him. You found yourself straddling his waist, your hands splayed across his bare chest for balance.

"Ride me, love. Take what you need."

You rolled your hips in a slow grind, savoring the feeling of him deep inside you. His head fell back against the pillow, quiet moans rumbling in his chest as you took him inch by inch.

Encouraged by his response, you picked up the pace, rising and falling on his hard length, taking him deeper with each downward thrust.

"That's it, love." Satoru's hands tightened on your hips, helping you keep a steady rhythm. "Ride me just like that."

One of his hands left your hip, sliding up your body to cup your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple. You gasped at the feeling, your back arching, pushing your chest further into his touch.

Satoru's other hand slid behind his head, propping himself up a bit so he could watch you better. "Fuck, you look so hot like this. My perfect girl.”

You braced your hands on his sweat-slicked chest for leverage, your nails digging into his skin. His hips started to rise to meet your downward thrusts, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every pass. 

"Fuck, just like that. You feel so good. So tight and perfect around me. You're gonna make me come so fucking hard.”

"Satoru," you panted, your head falling back, your spine arching as the tension coiled tighter and tighter in your core. "I'm close. I’m so close—"

But just as you were about to come, Satoru suddenly sat up, his arms wrapping around your waist, his chest pressing against yours. The change in position drove him even deeper, making you cry out and your nails raking down his back.

His mouth found your neck, sucking and biting, leaving hickeys you'd definitely have to cover up tomorrow.

"God, you’re doing so good."

You could tell Satoru was right on the edge with you, his groans turning harsh and throaty, his fingers digging bruisingly into your hips, his movements growing erratic and desperate beneath you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he warned, his voice strained and breathless. "You're gonna make me fucking come.”

With that, he flipped you over onto your stomach, his hands gripping your hips as he yanked you up onto your hands and knees. He pushed your legs apart with his knees, settling behind you.

You could feel the hot, hard length of him pressing against you before slowly, inch by torturous inch, Satoru pushed forward, sinking into you until he was buried to the hilt. He started to move then, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, setting a punishing pace that had the couch shaking and creaking beneath you.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he railed you from behind, hitting even deeper than before.

"Satoru," you gasped, your hands fisting in the cushions, your back arching as he pounded against your cervix again and again. "Oh fuck, yes. Just like that. Don't stop."

His hand slid up your spine to fist in your hair, yanking your head back and bending your spine into a deeper arch. You cried out at the sudden stretch, the change in angle making him hit new spots inside you.

Before you could even catch your breath, he pushed your face down into the couch cushions.

"What'd I say? You gotta keep quiet or I'm gonna have to shut you up myself.”

A shiver raced down your spine at his words, his grip on your hair in the back of your head keeping you pinned in place. You could only moan into the plush cushion beneath you, slowly soaking it with your spit as you whimpered and panted with each deep, brutal thrust.

Satoru's thrusts grew harder, faster, more erratic as he chased his release. His hand in your hair tightened, the sting pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

Satoru suddenly wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up against his chest, changing the angle yet again.

His thrusts slowed, becoming deep and deliberate. He held you close, one arm around your waist, the other hand splayed across your throat, keeping your head tilted back against his shoulder.

"Tell me, did those frat boys ever make you feel this good?" he panted in your ear, his hips rolling into yours in a slow grind. "Did they ever take the time to fuck you the way you deserve?"

You whimpered, your inner muscles tensing around his thick length as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "No." Your hands came up to grip his forearm, your nails digging into his skin. "Never like this. They never fucked me half as good as you do."

He hummed, his teeth grazing the side of your neck. "That's a damn shame," he mused, his hips keeping up that slow, deep rhythm that drove you mad. "'Cause you deserve to be fucked right."

As if to prove his point, he thrust into you even deeper. You cried out, your back arching, your nails leaving crescent moons on his arm. His arm tightened around your waist, the other hand reached up. His fingers brushed over your parted lips, feeling the panting breaths escaping you.

"Open up," he commanded.

Obediently, you parted your lips, letting him slip two fingers into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around them, sucking gently, tasting the salt of his skin.

"Fuck, love. Your mouth feels so good.”

You moaned around his fingers as they thrust shallowly in and out of your mouth. His hips picked up speed, slamming into you harder, faster, spurred on by the muffled sounds you were making.

He pushed his fingers deeper, until they brushed the back of your throat. You gagged slightly, your eyes watering, moaning around each thrust.

"Good girl," he praised, his thumb stroking your cheek, "taking my fingers so well, just like you take my cock."

Satoru's hips were pounding into you faster again. His arm around your waist held you steady as he thrust into you, hitting that spot inside you over and over until your eyes rolled back.

Then, his hand slipped between your thighs to find your aching clit. He rubbed the sensitive nub in tight, deliberate circles, the calluses on his fingertips creating the most maddening friction.

Suddenly, Satoru pushed you forward, your face shoving into the couch cushions again. He draped his body over yours, pressing you deeper into the plush fabric, his muscular arm stretching above your head to keep your head down, his hot breath panting against the nape of your neck.

"Gonna come," he gritted out, his hips moving faster, harder. "Fuck, I'm gonna come so fucking hard."

You could only whine in response, the sounds muffled against the cushion your face was pressed into. Above you, Satoru let out a string of curses, his hips stuttering and jerking erratically against your ass as his orgasm hit him. 

He buried himself balls-deep inside you, grinding against your cervix as he pumped you full of his hot, thick cum.

"Fuck, fuck, you feel so fucking good," he babbled, his voice low and tight as he rode out his orgasm. "You take me so fucking good."

He shook and shuddered and cursed as he tried to catch his breath, his sweaty forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. 

Slowly, he straightened up, your hips still raised in the air, and released his grip on your head, allowing you to turn your face to the side and suck in a desperate lungful of air.

But he didn't pull out. Instead, he started thrusting shallowly into your oversensitive core, his softening cock sliding through the sloppy mess he'd made of you. The wet, filthy sounds of it made your face flame, made your core clench weakly around him.

Then, to your shock, he pulled out completely, making you both wince at the sensitivity. But before you could ask what he was doing, you felt his fingers between your legs, spreading your swollen lips apart.

"Fuck, look at that. You’re so perfect. Prettiest cunt I've ever seen."

You whimpered as you felt his cum start to leak out of you, dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa — the family sofa to be exact. But Satoru didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed fucking pleased by it.

Then, you felt his tongue on you, lapping at your used sex. 

He groaned as he tasted your combined arousal, the vibrations making you clench and shiver. His tongue dipped inside you, scooping out his own cum before licking a broad stripe up to your clit.

You gasped, your hand flying down to clamp over your mouth, stifling the desperate moan that wanted to escape.

"One more, love. One more for me. I wanna taste you coming on my tongue, wanna feel you come all over my face."

With that, his mouth sealed over your clit, as he started to suck in hard, rhythmic pulls, you knew you were done for. Your exhausted body had no defense against his ruthless onslaught, his tongue pushing you to the brink with embarrassing speed.

Your thighs started to shake, your abs quivering as the tension built and built, your core clenching around his tongue. Desperate moans spilled from your lips, muffled behind your hand as you tried to stay quiet. 

But fuck, it was hard when he was eating you out like a starving man at his last meal.

"That's it, that's my girl," Satoru encouraged between licks and sucks, his stubble rasping against your inner thighs. "Gonna make you feel so good, love. Ruin you for all other fucking men.”

It was too much, too intense, too fucking good. 

With a sharp cry that teetered on a scream, you shattered apart. Satoru fucked you through it with his tongue, drawing out your orgasm until you were boneless and shaking.

Finally, finally, he relented, pressing a few soft kisses to your twitching core before crawling up your body and collapsing next to you on the couch. 

He gathered you close, smiling at your weak grumbles of protest as he manhandled you into the position he wanted — tucked against his chest, your face pressed into his sweat-damp neck.

"You're perfect, you know that? Like you were made just for me."

His hand drifted up and down your back in soothing strokes, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. The gentle touch made you sigh, your body sinking even deeper into his embrace.

For a long moment, you just laid there in comfortable silence, basking in the bone-deep satisfaction of being so thoroughly fucked by the man you at least expected to ever fuck in your life.

"You know, Suguru's gonna kill me when he finds out about this."

You sighed against his throat, your fingers absently tracing the defined ridges of his abs. "Mm, probably. He made you promise to keep your hands off me, after all.”

"Wait, you knew about that?"

"Mhmm, he mentioned it once. To be fair, he was pretty drunk at the time."

Satoru huffed, his hand drifting lower to palm the curve of your ass. "Guess I fucked that one up, huh?" he drawled, not sounding the least bit sorry. 

"In more ways than one." You shifted in his arms, propping yourself up on your elbow to look down at him, your other hand coming up to stroke his stubbled jaw. "But seriously, this can't happen again, you know that right?"

Satoru leaned into your touch, his eyes drifting shut for a moment as he savored the feel of your fingers on his skin. "Yeah, I know. We just got a little carried away, that's all. Blame it on the alcohol."

You grinned, tracing the curve of his lower lip with your thumb. "Mhmm. I mean, don't get me wrong, it was—"

His eyes opened, fixing you with a heated look that sent a shiver down your spine. "Fucking good?"

"Yeah" Your hand slid down to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “Real fuckking good. But still, we can't do this again."

Satoru's hand continued to run over your ass, his touch sending heat through your body even as you spoke of ending this. "Definitely can't happen again. It would be a mistake."

You nodded, even as you arched into his touch. "A big mistake. Dad would kill us both if he found out."

"He would," Satoru murmured, his other hand sliding up your side, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast. "And I value my life too much to risk it. Even if the temptation is—"

His gaze raked over you, hot and hungry.

"Hard to resist?" you finished for him.

"Impossible to resist," he corrected, his hand cupping your breast now, his thumb grazing over your nipple. "But we have to. This can't be more than a one-time thing."

You bit your lip, stifling a moan at his touch. "Right. One fun night, and then we go back to normal. Like it never happened."

"Exactly." But even as he said it, he was pulling you closer, his hips coming up to meet yours, his length, already hard again, pressing against your core.

You gasped, your eyes fluttering shut. "Satoru—"

"One more time," he breathed, his lips brushing your ear. "One more time, and then we'll stop. We'll be good."

You knew you should say no, should put an end to this before it went any further. But god, the feel of him against you, inside you — it was addictive. You craved it, craved him, like nothing you'd ever known.

"One more time. And then never again."

"Never again," he echoed as he rolled you beneath him. His body covered yours, his mouth claiming your lips in a searing kiss before he buried himself deep inside you once more.

Little did you know, it wouldn't be the last "one more time" of the night. 

Or the morning. 

In fact, you lost count of how many times you and Satoru broke your "never again" promise before the sun finally rose.

Each time you thought you were finished, that you'd finally satisfied the hunger, one touch, one kiss, one whispered word would reignite the flames and you'd find yourself tangled up in him all over again.

Satoru was just that good. And you were just that far gone for him.

Heaven help you both.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Next day you woke up with a serious hangover.

No surprise there.

You stumbled down the stairs, your head pounding and your stomach churning with the aftereffects of last night's alcohol. And, let's be real, the aftereffects of Satoru's very thorough attentions too.

The memories of what you'd done, of how completely he'd wrecked you, made heat rush to your cheeks even as a pleasant soreness throbbed between your legs. God, you could still feel the ghost of his hands on your skin, his mouth on your—

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in."

Your dad's amused voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You blinked, focusing bleary eyes on where he sat at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other.

"Morning, Dad," you croaked, wincing at how wrecked your voice sounded.

He raised an eyebrow. "Rough night?"

You flushed, praying he'd think it was just the hangover and not the vivid flashbacks of Satoru pounding you into the couch. "Uh, yeah. Guess I partied a little too hard."

"I'll say." Your dad folded the paper and set it aside, standing up to grab a plate from the counter. "Made you some breakfast. Greasy eggs and bacon, perfect hangover cure. Eat up, then you can go sleep it off before your big tennis match later."

Right. Tennis. 

You'd almost forgotten about the match in the wake of last night's activities. The idea of running around a court in the blazing sun made your head throb even harder.

"Thanks, Dad," you said, mustering up a smile as he set the plate in front of you. "You're the best."

"Mm-hmm. And don't you forget it." Your dad settled back into his chair, sipping his coffee as he watched you dig into your breakfast. "So, you ready for your big match today? Coach says you've got a real shot at taking the title this year."

You swallowed your mouthful of eggs, trying to muster some enthusiasm despite your pounding head and sore thighs. "Yeah, I'm feeling pretty good about it. I mean, assuming I can get through the match without puking on the court."

"If you can party, you can play. No excuses."

"Wow, so inspirational. You should be a motivational speaker."

Your dad snorted. "I'm just here to keep you in line."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't quite suppress a smile. Your dad could be a real hardass sometimes, but he had a great sense of humor and a surprisingly laid-back attitude when it came to your occasional youthful indiscretions.

Perks of having a young, cool dad, you guessed.

"If I win today, maybe I should make this a pregame ritual," you said dryly, taking another bite of your breakfast. "Tequila shots and a good fu—" you caught yourself just in time, "fun. A fun night before every match."

"Good luck getting that one past your coach." Your dad shook his head, laughing. Then his gaze sharpened, his brow furrowing slightly as he leaned forward to get a better look at you.

"Hey, what's that on your neck? Looks like a bruise or something. Did you get hurt last night?"

Your hand flew to your throat, your fingers pressing against the tender spots you knew were littered with Satoru's marks. Shit, you'd completely forgotten about the hickies in your hungover daze. You probably still smelled like sex and Satoru's cologne too, since you hadn't had a chance to shower yet.

Satoru was probably going to be insufferably smug about marking you up like this.

Bastard.

"Oh, uh, it's nothing. I must've just... bumped into something. You know how clumsy I get when I'm drunk."

Your dad's frown deepened, his eyes narrowing as he studied your neck more intently. For a heart-stopping moment, you thought he might call you on your obvious lie, might put two and two together and realize just what — or who — had left those marks on your skin.

But then he just shrugged, leaning back in his chair and taking another sip of his coffee. "Huh. Well, be more careful next time, yeah? Don't want you getting hurt."

You let out a subtle sigh of relief, your hand dropping from your neck. "Yeah, of course. I'll be more careful, promise."

"Good." Your dad nodded, seeming satisfied with your answer. "Oh, by the way, I invited Satoru to come watch your match today. Figured he could use a break from all those long hours at the office."

You choked on your bacon, your eyes going wide as you sputtered and coughed. "You��you what?"

"Invited Satoru. To your match," your dad repeated, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "He's always been so supportive of your tennis career, you know? Thought it'd be cool for him to see you play in such a big match.”

Cool. Right. 

More like hell, considering the man had spent half the night with his head between your thighs and the other half fucking your brains out.

The thought of facing him now, in broad daylight, with your father right there beside him — it made your stomach churn even harder than the hangover did.

"Oh. That's... great," you managed to croak out, your smile so strained it probably looked more like a grimace. "Thanks, Dad. That was really... thoughtful of you."

"Wasn't it?" He grinned, looking pleased with himself. "I knew you'd be happy to have another friendly face in the crowd, cheering you on."

Friendly face. 

Jesus Christ. 

If your dad had any idea just how friendly Satoru's face had gotten with certain parts of your anatomy last night—

You shuddered, trying to shove aside the vivid flashbacks that kept flooding your mind. Now was so not the time to be thinking about Satoru's tongue or his long fingers or his huge, perfect cock—

Fuck. You were so screwed. In every sense of the word.

How the hell were you supposed to focus on your match, on winning the title, when all you could think about was Satoru's hands on your skin, his breath in your ear, his body moving over and in and around yours?

How were you supposed to look him in the eye, knowing what you'd done, what you'd let him do, how completely you'd surrendered to him in every possible way?

And how were you supposed to do it all with your dad right there, oblivious to the secret brewing between his daughter and his best friend?

You didn't know. You had no fucking clue. 

All you knew was that this match, this day, this whole goddamn situation was shaping up to be one of the most awkward, uncomfortable, excruciatingly tense experiences of your life.

And considering you once drunkenly hit on your TA in front of your whole class, that was really saying something.

But what choice did you have? 

You couldn't exactly tell your dad that Satoru couldn't come, that having him there would be way too distracting. Not without raising all sorts of questions.

You were just going to have to suck it up and act like last night never happened, like it hadn't changed every fucking thing between you and Satoru.

Easy, right?

God, you were so fucked.

next chapter ->

author's note: hii friends !! hope u enjoyed this silly little first chapter of my new series & it didn't come across as creepy, and if it did, just ignore it. it wasn't meant that way, of course.

anywayy, it will have three chapters in total and will be mostly smut, not gonna lie, but i really had fun writing it bc it's just pure tension, teasing and stupid conversations that i love to write haha. and also a ridiculously older satoru and a bold reader ?? i think that's my thing to write haha.

anyway, thank you all so much for reading !! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and i hope this fic brings a smile to your face (or preferably other emotions) whenever you read it. stay awesome, friends, and have a fabulous day !! <33

pls comment on the series masterlist to get tagged in future chapters, this way it's easier for me to keep track! :)

🏷️ @alwaysfreakingout @gojoluvs @bbyxxm @myahfig4 @nanamis-baker

@reagan707 @corrupted-jp3g @starmapz @chilichopsticks @ri-sa20

@starlostwish @dra-ahsticlove @dollcest @uziwork @sxnkuna

@rideofthevalkyriess @alygator77 @moonlightlexie @snwvie @httparchives

@madaqueue @dabisdolly @s3r-en-d1p-ity @4y3sh4 @hachixko

@enaalespenai @sukunaspillow @browrm @fluttershyfangs @yoghurtbrand

@gojoful @levin4nami @lovebittenbyevans @sad-darksoul @tbzzluvr

@neo404

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[mentally-gone002]

summary: steve sneaks into his girlfriends room at night in secret so that they can be together.

steve harrington x henderson!f!reader. secret relationship!!!!

can be read in its own, or with this part 2 here

a/n: this doesn’t have a title because i’m so freaking brain dead rtn yall… BUT, reader is dustin’s sister so obvi. she’s gonna have like curly hair but no color is specified. also i L O V E a good henderson!reader with steve!! like idk why but it’s just a great pair since steve and dustin are already my fav duo in the show!! i love them sm😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

———————————————————————

cicadas buzzed endlessly beyond the open window and cotton curtains swished back and forth like a chest heaving with slow breaths along with the late night wind. 

goosebumps rose on her bare arms as she sat with her back against her bed frame on the carpeted floor, slowly flicking through a book that dustin had forced into her hands earlier that day. it was actually really good, not that she didn’t trust her brother’s judgement on literature or anything, but some books he has lent her had been not worth the read. she should’ve read this earlier.

“hey,” a sharp whisper broke her focus on the words across the page and her eyes flew to the door. it was still closed. her eyes went back to the page, only to be interrupted by quiet tapping on glass. 

she turned her head and grinned widely at the barely visible sight of steve behind the glass. “what’re you doing here?” she hissed, still sporting a smile while she got up to place her book on her nightstand and then stand on her mattress and slide the window open wider. steve didn’t answer as he hoisted himself through the window which was far above the ground. he grunted and then fell through the window to land on his back on her bed, making her step back on the mattress with her hands covering her mouth to suppress a laugh. 

he sat up, huffing a little and pushing back his chestnut hair from his forehead as he watched her sit down beside him. “i missed you.” he answered and his hand snaked to hold the back of her neck, pulling her forward into a soft kiss. 

she laughed softly into it. “you saw me a few hours ago.” she whispered, trying to hint that they needed to be quiet. 

its been months they’ve been together and nobody knew that they were dating… yet. she was worried about how dustin would react, along with everyone else in his party; partially because they didn’t like steve until a few months ago. steve agreed with her, with some shock due to the fact that her brother and his friends only just started to like him, but wished he didn’t have to wait until they were alone to be as close as he wanted with her. 

steve shook his head slightly, honeyed eyes holding hers in an intimate stare. “i know, but we weren’t alone.” his fingers gently tangled in the hair on the back of her neck. “sorry dustin booted you to the backseat by the way.”

she chuckled at the remembrance. “it’s okay, he rides shotgun in my moms car too.” her voice was filled with fondness. “what isn’t okay is dustin almost catching us!” she whispered through a toothy grin because she can’t help but feel all giddy at the rush of secrecy with him. 

“well, what can i say? you looked really pretty.” steve whispers, leaning close to capture her lips with his again. he felt his heart race under his ribs the longer he kissed her.

she pulled away. “you can say ‘i’m sorry i almost jeopardized our secret relationship. it won’t happen again.’ or something like that.” her smile showed how she was teasing him while she spoke. 

steve shook his head, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “it won’t happen again.” he repeated back with a cheeky smile, playing along with her. 

she smiled back and brushed her curls back from her eyes. “good.” 

steve lolled his head to the side so he could just keep looking at her. he liked how her hair looked right now; it was all wild because she took it out of its previous style from earlier and didn’t seem to have tamed it. “how are you?” he wondered. 

she looked away from his eyes with an accompanied smile. her eyes landed on dustin’s book on the edge of her nightstand. “good. just enjoying the night, y’know?” she shrugged a little with a small grin. “dustin lent me a book earlier.” her eyes found steve’s again.

steve nodded and laid down on his back, stretching his arms above his head so that his hands bumped the wall. she stared at where his shirt had ridden up, the soft skin of his stomach was on display. “what’s it about?” he asked, looking over at where she was still sitting up. 

her body slowly settled beside steve’s before she answered. her head was resting on his chest. “it’s about a bunch of fantasy people going on an adventure.”

“is it the hobbit?” steve lifted his head a little to gaze down at her face turned on its side.

she looked up at him when he named the book just based from her description of it. “yeah, have you-“ a knock on her bedroom door had them both jumping in surprise to sit up.

“hey,” it was dustin. “can i come in?” he asked, voice slightly muffled by the door. 

steve looked at her and she put her index finger over her lips before pointing to her bed, intending for him to get under it. he did as she silently told him to do before she left walked to the door and opened it. “what’re you doing up this late?” she rubbed her hand to her eye, giving dustin the impression that he woke her up. he didn’t seem guilty as he walked passed her and into her bedroom, going to her closet and opening the doors. 

steve swallowed thickly, glad he didn’t hide there. it would’ve been cliche and embarrassing.

“i’m looking for batteries. my walkie died.” dustin explained, walking to look at the things littering the top of his sisters dresser after not finding any batteries. “jesus, why do you have so much jewelry?” he asked, lifting up a glass dish housing her rings. 

“i don’t have batteries, dustin.” she sighed and let her eyes slip to steve’s hiding place while dustin’s back was still to her. “why don’t you have spares anyway?” 

dustin faced her with a seemingly exhausted sigh. “i did, until i used them all. there’s been a lot going on, in case you forgot about the upside down.” he sassed with a tone. 

she rolled her eyes at him and gave her own exhausted sigh. “i didn’t, and like i said before, i don’t have batteries.” her eyes once again flashed down to the gap under her bed when she thought she heard steve shift or move around. 

dustin looked with her in confusion. “are you hiding a demo-dog?” he joked lightly. “why do you keep looking down there?” he stepped closer to her bed and she stiffened. 

“something probably just fell from how it was weirdly placed. you know… gravity.” nervous laughter ended her sentence. dustin cast her a look saying ‘you’re lying’ all over his face. he got down onto the floor on his hands and knees so that he could look under her bed. “dustin! get out of my room!” she hissed, kneeling on the floor beside him and tried, and failed, to moved him. 

he was too far into his investigation to be told what to do. he moved a box or two aside and then paused, redrawing his hand. “steve? what the hell are you doing under my sisters bed?” he asked, almost too loud. steve smiled with his teeth awkwardly and crawled out from under the bed to sit beside his (secret) girlfriend. dustin’s eyes traveled to his sister. “did you know he’s here?” 

she nodded. “yeah, he’s been here for a while.” her hand lifted to settle on steve’s shoulder. that was her way of silently telling him that it’s gonna play out fine. “why are you such a snoop?” that question was directed at dustin of course, who scoffed and stood up. 

“i’m not. i was checking for monsters so i don’t wake up tomorrow and find you dead.” he widened his eyes and shrugged, as if his reason was obvious from the start. he walked to the door after receiving nothing but an eye roll and her forceful ushering out oh her bedroom. “oh, and don’t like… do stuff.” he made a disgusted face at the thought. 

steve laughed with his hands over his face. he was still sitting on the floor. “we aren’t together, henderson.” steve covered. 

he nodded with half lidded eyes. “sure. and why would you be hiding under her bed then?” 

steve shrugged. “didn’t want the interaction with the other henderson. one’s enough.” 

she slapped the side of his head after she’d walked back to stand beside where he sat. her lips were pinned into a smile. “asshole.” 

dustin rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. “just be quiet.” and then he shut the door. 

steve stood up after the door shut and pulled her into him in a hug, still laughing slightly. “my hearts beating so fast.” he panted. “he knows.” 

“oh, he most definitely knows.” she nodded, pulling away. “might as well come out and tell them, but he’ll beat us to it with his radio system.” a shrug came from her shoulders. 

steve pursed his lips with a hum and a nod. “how much you wanna bet the group has bet on us?” he wondered. 

she blew out a breath in exasperation at the thought. “i can already see them all exchanging money with stupid smiles.” her gentle laughter filled the room. 

————————————————————————

dustin didn’t knock before he opened his sisters bedroom door the following morning, and he wasn’t surprised to see that steve was still there. 

steve was flush against her as they both slept on well through the morning, his arms were wound tightly around her waist to keep her from moving away. 

dustin only shook his head with a sigh and maybe the smallest smile before leaving the two alone. he wasn’t going to tell the party about it, not until his sister was ready to because he respects her. but the party does already think that steve and her are together, so it won’t come as a shock. 

he’ll let him sleep a bit longer before he interrupts the peace. 

[lazycats-stuff]

Since Christmas is coming up, I wanted to request that Aussie reader that gets rly annoyed because he has to celebrate Christmas in the winter and not the summer with prawns and pavlova.

Just batbro getting so pouty because it’s cold and snowy (idk I haven’t rly been in snow) and hates it.

Also wanted to ask you, what season are you celebrating in? Summer or Winter? You don’t have to answer but I’m just curious.

Well my anon... Christmas is long gone, but that doesn't mean we can't have Christmas! Although I am the Grinch, but hey. Also, I celebrate Christmas during the winter, but it's been years since it snowed on Christmas... Also, this gif is adorable. And cool. And thank you all for 1.7k followers... The fact you like my writing is still a mind blowing thing to me.

Summary: (Y/N) is Australian who celebrates Christmas during the winter. He hates it.

Warnings: minor swearing, (Y/N) is grumpy, the fam is amused.

Being from Australia made someone a bit more tougher when it came to certain things. Such as snakes and spiders. (Y/N) was used to them and considered them roommates sometimes. Of course, moving from Australia to the good ol' US of A, wasn't an easy change. First one being the ruckus and sensitivity about alcohol.

While being 18, you can enlist in the army and die for your country, but can't drink? (Y/N) thought it was ridiculous. Despite still being underage, but legally an adult, he loved to sip some wine and beer... But Alfred and Bruce always made a ruckus about it. (Y/N) thought that Alfred would be on his side since Alfred is from the UK and they also drink underage...

(Y/N) has never felt so betrayed before.

Secondly, the summers were bad in Australia, especially on the coastal areas of Australia. (Y/N) grew up in Sydney and summers were pretty hellish back there. Here? For Australian standards, these Gotham summers are bearable. Sure, the summers may be from December to February. Yes, Australia has it all flipped around.

(Y/N)'s brothers thought that he was insane with how well he was handling the heat well. (Y/N) never told them that the heat in Sydney was that bad, but the outback and the central parts of Australia are hell on Earth. As if (Y/N) would reveal his secret. The temperatures were perfect...

But there was only slight issue with living in the USA as an Australian. Only one. It's a pretty big one as well.

Everyone knows that Australians celebrate their Christmas during their summer. A summer that begins in the month of December and where people are actually on the beach, enjoying the warm weather with their favorite classic desserts, one of the best examples being a cake called Pavlova.

That is also (Y/N)'s favorite dessert and often makes it when he wants to feel like Christmas is coming. Especially during the summer when he knew that he couldn't celebrate Christmas during the warm weather. That was his substitute Christmas. Winters in Gotham... Well...

He didn't like it. At all. He absolutely hated it. December should be warm, sunny, warm enough so you can go out and enjoy the warmth, maybe even swim! Make snowmen out of sand... Well, then they would be called sandmen. (Y/N) was depressed and sad, to say the least. You know the term seasonal depression?

(Y/N) felt it every single time when December rolled around. Instead of a beautiful sunny day, day filled with warmth, spent on a beach, not bundled in milion layers of clothes...

Not this Gotham winter... Not this snow either. (Y/N) absolutely hated it. Absolutely. While the entire America was looking forward to Christmas, (Y/N) was grumbling in his room, looking out the window, the way that the snow fell. (Y/N) frowned.

At this time, in Australia, he would be eating his Pavlova and his beloved prawns. That's what he would be doing... Just sunbathing. Making sandmen. Eating his beloved Pavlova... And his prawns...

He prefers warmth over this stupid snow. He would give anything to go back to Australia, to Sydney and enjoy Christmas on a sunny beach... Maybe he can take one of Bruce's private jets... Pull something off as well... But only Bruce is allowed to even use them and has numbers of the pilots...

And where is (Y/N) going to find a pilot? Craigslist?

Hell no.

So he quietly puts up with it. December, with January and February, are the hottest months in Australia... And here, on the other side of the world, they are the coldest.

And that's why (Y/N) was moping the kitchen while the rest of the family decorated the tree. He hated this festive feeling in this cold weather.

His Australian mind couldn't comprehend this. Just... Happy in the cold? What is that type of bullshit?

" (Y/N)? Why are you moping? And why do you look so sad, as if someone killed something you enjoy? " Bruce asked as he came into the kitchen, getting a cup of coffee.

" Someone did kill something I enjoy. " (Y/N) muttered.

" Oh? " Bruce asked, smile appearing behind his mug, knowing exactly what (Y/N) was talking about, but choose to stay quiet about it. " And what that might be? " Bruce asked, making (Y/N) scoff.

" You know exactly what I mean B and what makes me so pissed during this winter. " (Y/N) grumbled, crossing his arms.

" Well, it's not my problem that Australia is so messed up. " Bruce said and (Y/N) raised his eyebrows.

" The hell is that supposed to mean? " (Y/N) asked, not sure to be offended or amused, since Australia is pretty weird, that much was true.

" The seasons are all twisted. Australian summer is in the winter months, the winter is in summer months... You get my gist. " Bruce said and (Y/N) scoffed. " And besides, what is so bad about snow? " Bruce added, making (Y/N) scoff even louder.

" What is so bad about snow? It's cold, it melts, it's not fun, it's gross... Do you want me to keep going? It's better when I was back in Australia, celebrating it on the beach, in the sand... " (Y/N) stated and Bruce laughed, ruffling (Y/N)'s hair.

" I know, I know. But it's not that bad here. Snow is not that bad. Sure it is the pure opposite of sand and it's warmth during the summer. You can make snow angels, snowmen, throw snowballs at your brothers... " Bruce said, trying to appease to (Y/N).

" Well, I can't go swim can I? Everything is cold and frozen. I can't do anything in the snow. I can only freeze to death and stay inside. " (Y/N) grumbled, still not happy with this type of Christmas. " It's bullshit. That's what it is. "

" You are lucky that Alfred isn't here, otherwise you would have gotten an Alfred glare for that swearing. " Bruce said, sipping more of his coffee. " Also, is some sort of coldness really that bad? Is snow that bad? " Bruce asked, making (Y/N) laugh.

" For an Australian, snow on Christmas is sacrilegious. Like, a cardinal sin. We celebrate the Christmas on our beaches, during hot weather. Not during this snow and winter... Complete and utter bullshit this is."

" You just need to adjust. " Bruce said and (Y/N) rolled his eyes, just as everyone else walked in.

" Oh (Y/N), snow is not that bad on Christmas. " Jason stated.

" It is! " (Y/N) retorted.

Tim and Dick chuckled and Damian shook his head in amusement.

" I can't believe that you can't understand me! " (Y/N) whined and Damian chuckled quietly.

And that's how the evening was spent, teasing (Y/N) about his hatred for snow. And they even let (Y/N) put the star on the top of the tree.

" Come on, lets watch Home alone. " Bruce said, patting a spot on the couch next to him. (Y/N) laughed sarcastically, but he complied, making sure to wrap himself in a warm blanket, making sure to have his beloved Pavlova nearby. "

" I want my prawns tomorrow. " (Y/N) stated out of nowhere, making everyone laugh.

" Of course, I'll get some for you. " Bruce said, putting his arm over (Y/N)'s shoulders, making sure to bring him closer, to try and give him some comfort.

" Wait, where is Alfred? " (Y/N) asked, confused.

" Went home to see his family. " Bruce explained briefly.

" Ah. "

[physics-of-one-piece]

I've seen you have calculated Law's hand size, but what about his hand spread size? (Sorry idk what you call it, but when you splay your fingers out to their maximum width, like how wide they are apart?)

Also, if you can work out hand/finger size/width and there is a correlation between hands and fingers, and male appendages, could you work out that too?

Ah, you're right, anon!

Law does Room with all his fingers stretched out. I can't believe I forgot to do that. What you're referring to is a hand span.

And yes, it is possible to measure it!

I feel guilty for not thinking up of it, especially Law, since for Room he stretches his fingers out ie hand span. Thank you for asking this!

A hand span is the distance from the tip of the thumb to the tip of the middle finger when the hand is fully extended.

Okay, let's do it! Here is the formula:

Hand Span ≈ Hand Length + (Thumb Length + Pinky Length)/2

Law's Hand Span

Hand Span = 21.12 + (5.70cm+7.18cm)/2

= 27.56 cm

Law's Hand Span is 27.56 cm.

That's how big his hand is when he does Room.

Or do you want to know the space between his spread fingers themselves? I'll need to do some research for that if that's the one you want to know.

Male appendages, eh? I was wondering if someone would ask that 😏. But I warn you, if I'm doing Law, I'm doing for Doflamingo, too. Hell, I'll do it for everyone on the list, I'm not SCARED. You just opened the Pandora's Box, anon.

I remember there was an SBS and Oda didn't give an answer for a male char's (cough) male appendage size (cough) and gets all "ewww, why would you want to know that" and I was like "why would they not want to know that about a male char they clearly like very much?!" but then he's a hypocrite and gives us the size of Nami's breasts??? Like, sir, if you're gonna do one gender, you gotta do the other one, too. Why should only the male readers get to have the numbers and not female readers? Also, of course people will be curious about such a thing bcs there is much more male characters than there are female characters! Especially when you make them HUGE!

That will not be happening on this blog. You guys can ask me for women, too, on this blog we include everyone.

I'll do some research to see if the male appendages are doable (probably are hehehe) and if they're connected to hand size (they most likely are, but you have to take into account their fist size for rea - okay I will stop before I dig my grave deeper. Anyway, I will ABSOLUTELY do some research. I mean, you can tell already by the huge chars' heights their male appendages will not be a normal size, I'm sure most of the fandom by the writings I read has known that.

Thank you for the ask, anon!

Law's Masterlist

[oliwrites]

Secrets

relationship: loki x reader

genre: smut

summary: you’ve been staying on asgard for some time now, secretly lusting for loki all whilst dating his older brother, thor. one day, you find him alone in the library…

warnings: SMUT (18+, minors dni), little plot, mostly porn (sorry not sorry), slight mention of cheating, slight degrading, fingers doing… things… (f receiving), mention of the devils tango,

word count: idk :(

NOT PROOFREAD— SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES

p.s. hi guys i’m back :)

In the dimly lit library of Asgard, the scent of ancient books and the faint glow of enchanted lanterns set a mysterious atmosphere. Loki stood by a tall shelf, his fingers brushing over the spines of old tomes. He was deep in thought, his emerald eyes reflecting the flickering light.

You entered quietly, not wanting to disturb the prince. But the soft creak of the wooden floorboards betrayed your presence. Loki turned, a sly smile curling on his lips as he saw you.

"Couldn't stay away, could you?" he teased, his voice a silky whisper.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks but stood your ground. "I was just curious about what you're reading."

Loki stepped closer, the air between you charged with an electric tension. "Curiosity can be dangerous," he murmured, his gaze locking onto yours. "But I suppose I could share a secret or two."

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your hand. The contact sent a shiver down your spine. Loki's touch was cool, yet it burned with an intensity that left you breathless. He leaned in, his lips close to your ear.

"There's much more to these stories than meets the eye," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "But I'm more interested in unraveling the mysteries you hold."

Your heart raced as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. The distance between you closed, and you could feel the magnetic pull of his presence. Loki's hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw.

"Tell me," he said softly, his voice like velvet. "What secrets do you hide?"

Loki's question hung in the air, the silence between you thick with anticipation. Your breath hitched as you struggled to find words. His touch was intoxicating, and the intensity of his gaze made it hard to think clearly.

"Secrets?" you echoed, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't know what you mean."

Loki's smile deepened, a mix of amusement and something darker.

"Oh, but I think you do," he replied.

"Everyone has secrets, things they hide even from themselves. It's what makes them intriguing."

He moved even closer, his body almost brushing against yours.

The heat from his presence was overwhelming, and you felt your resolve slipping. Loki's hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck. his finger tangling gently in your hair.

"I can see it in your eyes," he murmured, his lips inches from yours. "The longing, the desire. You try to hide it, but it's there. Tell me, what is it you want?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you knew there was no use in denying it any longer. "You," you admitted, your voice trembling. "I want you, Loki."

His eyes darkened with satisfaction, and he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and fierce. The world around you seemed to vanish as his kiss deepened, his hand tightening in your hair.

Loki's other hand found your waist, pulling you closer against him. You could feel the hard planes of his body through the thin fabric of your clothes, and it ignited a fire within you. Your hands instinctively moved to his chest, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his tunic.

He broke the kiss, his breath ragged, and rested his forehead against yours. "You have no idea how long l've wanted this," he confessed, his voice rough with emotion.

"Then don't stop," you whispered, your voice filled with urgency. "I need you, Loki."

With a growl of desire, Loki captured your lips again, his kiss more demanding this time. He lifted you effortlessly, pressing you against the bookshelf as his hands roamed over your body. You clung to him, your fingers tangled in his dark hair, lost in the sensation of his touch.

The library, with its ancient secrets and forgotten stories, became the backdrop to your passion. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of you, intertwined in a dance of desire and longing.

The weight of Loki's body against yours pressed you firmly against the bookshelf, and the ancient wood creaked under the strain. His kisses trailed from your lips down your neck, each touch igniting a spark that spread warmth through your entire being.

Loki's hands roamed possessively, memorizing the curves and lines of your body as if he wanted to etch them into his memory forever.

His touch was both gentle and demanding, as though he was savoring every moment but couldn't get enough.

"You drive me mad," Loki breathed against your skin, his voice thick with desire. "I've tried to resist, but it's impossible when you're near."

You gasped as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your collarbone. "Then don't resist," you urged, your own hands exploring the lean muscles of his back. "Give in, Loki."

His response was a low, guttural sound of approval as he captured your lips once more in a searing kiss. His fingers deftly worked at the fastenings of your clothing, each piece falling away to reveal more of you. The cool air of the library contrasted sharply with the heat of his touch, making you shiver with anticipation.

Loki paused for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

There was something almost reverent in his gaze, as if he couldn't believe you were real.

"You're exquisite," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “No wonder my brother is with you”

You shake off that last comment, your mind set on having Loki, even if it is just one time. You reached out, your fingers tracing the sharp angles of his jaw before moving down to the laces of his tunic. "Let me see you," you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

With a smirk, Loki complied, shedding his clothes until he stood before you, every inch of him radiating power and allure. You marveled at the sight, your breath catching in your throat. His body was a masterpiece, every line and curve perfect.

“Like what you see?” He grins as he teases you.

“Yes…” You reply, running your dainty hands up his broad chest.

Loki closed the distance between you, his hands framing your face as he kissed you deeply. The hunger in his kiss matched your own, and you felt the last remnants of your self-control slip away. You wanted him, needed him, and nothing else mattered, not even your clueless boyfriend.

He lifted you effortlessly, guiding you to a nearby table that was cluttered with scrolls and books.

With a sweep of his hand, he cleared the surface, sending papers fluttering to the floor. He laid you down gently, his body covering yours as he kissed you with a fervor that left you breathless.

Your hands roamed over his back, your nails digging into his skin as he trailed kisses down your neck and across your chest. Every touch sent waves of pleasure through you, and you arched into him, desperate for more.

Loki's hand slid down your body, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that left you trembling.

Then his finger gently touches your clit, swiveling around the little bud, collecting all of your arousal at the same time. You could feel him grin against your neck when he slid a finger in, causing your back to arch, your chest pressing against his and an uncontrollable moan to fall from your lips.

“Fuck… so wet… so… tight…” he grunts to himself, “I wonder what you’d feel like around my cock…” he adds on, moving his finger at a slow— a painfully slow— pace all while curling his finger up in a “come hither” motion.

“Please…” you whine, wanting to feel more, wanting to feel him.

“So greedy… like a desperate whore…” He grunts as he adds a second finger, relishing in the feel of you clenching around him, “look at that… you’re practically sucking me in, darling…” he teases as he watches his fingers go in and out of your slick heat.

“Loki…” you whine, writhing around in his arms as your hips buck against his hand, causing the sound of slapping to ring throughout the archaic library in the most delicious way, “I’m… I’m close… please… please let me cum,” you plead him.

“Why would I stop?” He smirks wickedly as he pummels his fingers into your heat, all while curling his fingers— pressing into the right spot— causing you to fall apart around his fingers, soaking his hand.

Loki removes his hand, sucking his fingers clean— maintaining eye contact with you the entire time.

“Mmm… now I can see why Thor keeps you around…” he remarks.

“Wait— shit… Thor…” you go pale as you realize that you just cheated on your boyfriend… with his little brother, “Loki… I’m begging you…”

“No need to beg, pet. This is our dirty little secret…” He speaks in a low, rough voice.

“Thank you—”

“Only if you come by my chambers tonight… I fear I’m not done with you yet…”

——

@lokisgoodgirl @divine-knight-hand @asgards-princess-of-mischief

[pedal-writes]

Homesick (3)

A/N: Omg late happy seventeenth anniversary to transformers 2007 guys (and happy 4th of July ig…)!!! I unironically love that movie so much and I can’t believe I’m almost as old as it lolz also writing the dialogue from the whole police station scene was SO unserious 😭

Oh yeah, I might start using some dialogue from the 2007 novelization, just to add some spice. So if a few of the scenes from the movie look or sound different, y’all know why :3

Warnings: implied nudity?? Idk it’s not nsfw, also singular use of Y/N. This is the only time in the entire story Y/N will ever be used I swear!!

The next morning, you woke up with a horrible headache and a mildly annoyed attitude. You mentally cursed at yourself from being careless the night before and you needed to take a shower.

You got undressed and stepped into the tub, the hot water spraying onto your skin. You reminisced about the events of the night before, staring at a spot on the wall as you got lost in thought.

Maybe it was some creepy guy trying to pretend to be a cop… or worse, a creepy cop. The thought irked you a bit, and you dipped your head under the running water, attempting to distract yourself.

About 30 minutes passed. You exit the bathroom and rush into your room to change. Gripping the towel around your body, you crouch down to see what you have in your suitcase. You pick out something casual, a t-shirt and pair of jeans, just in case you want to head out again today. As you changed into your clothes, you picked your towel up and ruffled it through your hair to dry it off quickly. The muffled sound of your parents talking could be heard through your door and you open it to see worried expressions on their faces.

Apparently, Sam had been arrested for getting caught in some junkyard and was kept overnight at the police station. You were kind of baffled by this, how did Sam of all kids get himself arrested? He was just going to a lake party after all.

Before your dad was about to turn to leave, you quickly hollered you wanted to come with from the top of the stairs and quickly went back to your room to brush your hair so you didn’t look like a mess. You slid a pair of sandals on and threw the brush on your bed, rushing to the stairs. You said goodbye to your mom and followed your dad out the front door.

“So, why’d you want to come with? You’re not gonna make fun of your brother are you…?” Ron said, opening the drivers side door.

“What? No, of course not. It’s just weird to hear that Sammy managed to get involved with the cops, and he’s usually a pretty good kid.” You opened the passengers side door and sat down, Ron starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. “As his older sister, I just want to know why he’s, y’know, in this situation.”

Ron nodded understandably. “You’re a good sister, looking out for your brother and all. I just hope he isn’t in too much trouble.”

As you guys eventually got to the station, a small pit grew in your stomach and you began to feel a bit nervous. You remember an image of the police car following you, what if it really was a cop that chose to target you? And he sees you in the station today?

The door of the station rung as your dad pushed it open, you following close behind. You looked from each side of the station multiple times but no one seemed to pay you any mind or recognize you in anyway. That calmed your nerves a bit, and you let out a breath you didn’t even knew you took.

The next little while was you and Ron having to listen to one of the cops interrogate Sam, who looked really exhausted, as he kept explaining the events that transpired the night before.

“Look, I can’t be any clearer than how crystal clear I am being. It just stood up.” Sam explained, his voice being as genuine as it can sound.

“It just stood up.” The deputy repeated. “Wow, thats really neat.” It’s obvious the deputy didn’t believe him, you could barely believe what you were hearing either.

“Okay, chiefie.” The deputy gives Sam a plastic cup and a tissue. “Time to fill her up. And no drippy-drippy.” Sam takes it, a mildly nervous expression on his face.

“What are you rolling? Whippets? Goofballs? A little wowie sauce with the boys?” The deputy asked condescendingly.

“No, I’m not on any drugs.”

“What’s these?” The deputy catches the bottle of pills one of the cops beside him threw in his direction. He rattles the bottle, “Found it in your pocket. ‘Mojo’, is that what the kids are doing now? Little bit of Mojo?”

“Those are my dogs pain pills…” Sam points out, looking to the side in embarrassment.

“You know, a chihuahua. A little…” Ron says, attempting to explain it with his hands.

You let out a tired sigh. “Alright, I’m out.” You tap your dads arm and glance at both him and Sam. “I’ll just wait for you guys in the car.” The door of the police station chimed once again as you pulled the door open, making your way back to the car and sitting in the back seat. You closed the door and rested your head on the seats headrest, looking out the window lazily.

You thought about what Sam said, about how he saw his car “stand up” and became some kind of robot. It’s crazy talk, there’s no actual way there’s a giant robot lurking around an unknown city in Nevada of all places. Also it’s a giant robot. To your knowledge, they don’t exactly exist.

You hear two car doors open and see your dad and your brother sitting in the driver and passenger seats. They were having a conversation as they entered the car, and you turned your attention away from the window to their direction.

“Dad, y’know how Great-Great-Gramps pretty much flew over the cuckoo’s nest? Think that kind of, difficulty, could’ve been passed down to me? Like—some kind of mutant Witwicky gene?” Sam asked, looking at his father with a somewhat desperate and anxious look.

Ron smiled as he checked for oncoming traffic, and pulled away from the curb. “I don’t see it, Sam. Besides, my father was perfectly fine. And so am I.” He reached his hand over and ruffled Sam’s hair playfully. “Except on the days when your mother asks me to do certain kinds of work around the house.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, and leaned forward in your seat, looking at Sam as he attempts to fix his hair. “What- do you think you have some hereditary mental illness that was conveniently passed down to you? Because of whatever you saw last night?”

Sam turned his head towards you, a less than amused expression on his face. “Well, we did learn in biology that certain abnormal genes can skip a generation or two. Maybe that’s happened in my case.”

“As long as it doesn’t affect your grades or your SAT score,” Ron added. “Or doing your chores. Too many kids these days seem to have inherited the chore skipping gene.”

Ron turned the car towards a coffee shop, parking in an empty spot beside it. “How about we all get something to eat? I’m willing to bet your abnormal gene doesn’t prohibit the consumption of chocolate shakes.”

Sam nodded excitedly, and you agreed along with him. You haven’t eaten breakfast yet and you really could go for a cup of coffee right about now.

“Okay.” Sam smiled tiredly. “Better make mine a double though.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

A few hours had passed since you and your dad picked Sam up from the police station and you decided to watch a few movies you downloaded onto your computer. You were thankful none of them gave you a virus, considering how sketchy a few of the sites were. You decided to watch a true masterpiece, Jurassic park 3. Sam has made fun of you before for liking this movie, but it’s really a guilty pleasure.

As the first act of the movie started, you heard your brother yell from downstairs. You quickly paused the movie and walked to your door, urgently walking out and down the hallway towards the stairs. “Hey, Sam, are you alright? I heard you yelling.”

Sam ran up to you from the kitchen and grabbed your arms, shaking you slightly, “My freaking car is going to kill me! I-I’m getting out of here-“ He ran past you and towards the garage quickly.

“Wha- Sam what the hell are you talking about? And where are you going?” You followed behind him, seeing him grab your mom’s bike.

He got onto the bike and turned his head towards you. “Listen, tell mom and dad I love them very, very much. I have to go-“

“Wait Sam-!” Before you had a chance to finish, he pedaled out of the garage and down the sidewalk. You were going to attempt to run after him before seeing his yellow camero quickly drive after him.

“What the fuck.” You whispered under your breath, a dumbfounded expression on your face. There’s no way Sam was actually being serious. It was a stupid decision, really, but you decided to follow him.

You rushed towards your car and got into it, starting it quickly. The thing that baffles you the most about this situation is the fact that the car had no driver in it. You could’ve been seeing things, but the windows weren’t even tinted, so you couldn’t have been.

Despite not believing him at all at first, you now have a feeling that Sam was telling the truth about what he saw last night. You knew he was in danger so you wanted to go after him, you are his older sister after all. You pulled out of the driveway and made your way down the street Sam and his yellow camero went, feeling that familiar pit in your stomach start to form again. What am I even doing?

A few hours had passed with literally no luck of finding your brother. You had driven over to his best friends miles’ house and he told you how he was talking crazy and was gonna come over, but never actually did. You then looked around some more local spots where he usually goes and of course, nothing. You had also called him like 100 times but ended up with no answer. The thought of going into the city crossed your mind but it was way too big, Sam could be anywhere! An irritated sigh escaped your lips as you pressed your head against the top of the steering wheel tiredly, this really was a stupid idea.

I need to get home, it’s almost curfew, mom and dad are probably worried about me. You thought, grabbing your phone out of your pocket. I’ll tell them about Sam when I get there.

You called your mom and surprisingly, the phone rang and then went to voicemail. You looked at your phone with a puzzled expression, she almost always immediately picks up the phone. You tried to call a few more times and again, no answer.

A small frown spread across your face and you decided to head home, hopefully your mom just forgot her phone somewhere or something. You pulled out of the spot you were in and made your way back home.

Thankfully you weren’t too far away and you managed to get to the house in under 10 minutes or so. You pulled into the driveway and exited your car. To your surprise, you saw the lawn and the fountain utterly destroyed. You quickly headed inside and shouted for your parents, no answer. You looked around the house and everything looked ransacked like multiple people came through here looking for something. You felt your heartbeat start to pick up and your breathing began to get shaky.

You exited out the front door and paced on the lawn, attempting to think of what could’ve possibly happened to Sam or your parents and what you could even do about it. Tears stung the corners of your eyes and you placed your hand over your mouth, attempting not to break down. Why is this even happening to me?

The sound of machine-like whirring and large footsteps could be heard behind you and you slowly turned around, eyes widening at what you saw. Large, and what looks like robots, slowly came out from behind the house, staring at you with caution. One of them stepped closer and it’s pointed large canons at you in an offensive manner, smoke blowing out of his nose almost like a bull.

“Stand down, Ironhide. She’s obviously frightened.” The largest one said, blocking him from stepping any further. He gave Ironhide a scolding look, like what a parent would to a child, and the bot put his canons away slowly.

He turned around once again towards you, slowly bending down to get on your level. His blue eyes almost blinded you as they scanned across you with a mild curiosity. “Are you Y/N Witwicky? Sibling to Samuel James Witwicky?” The robot’s voice asked, his voice surprisingly deep and smooth to your ears.

You swallowed, you had almost completely forgotten about your family and could only think about the fact that this large mechanical creature knew your name.

“Yes that’s… that’s me.”

“My name is Optimus Prime, I’m afraid I cannot tell you much right now. The people that took your family also took something very important to us, and we can’t waste another second as they get away with it.” Optimus stood up once again, his staggering height almost making you a bit lightheaded.

“I’d like to come with you, I don’t want anything bad to happen to my family. Please.” You pleaded. You had zero clue what these things were or what they were after but you wanted to do everything in your power to help your family, even if it means getting involved with potentially dangerous people.

Optimus hesitated, he didn’t want a seemingly innocent human woman to get wrapped up in this mess. But he admired your dedication and care to your family, it almost reminded him of himself. The bot finally nodded, “Very well.”

Him and the other robots transformed from the looks of it, the metal parts of their body slowly forming into different vehicles. Optimus flipped open the passengers side door and waved it slightly to encourage you to get in.

You quickly made your way over to him, carefully climbing into the large semi-truck and closing the door behind you. You gasped as the seatbelt quickly whipped over your body. The radio of the truck turned on and Optimus’ voice crackled, “Autobots, Roll out!” As all of the vehicles drove down the street.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hiya! If you’ve done something similar to this then you can ignore this!

But, can i get a father request with Hoodie and Masky (and another character of your choice if you would like :3) where the reader basically sees their father in trouble and like… takes an injury for him. Idk I crave angst!

Anywho, take care of yourself <3

Masky and Hoodie when their child gets hurt protecting them

oooo hooohooo angst! it feels like its been a while since someones asked for angst, asides from the angst alphabet! notes: reader is gn and a child, platonic/family post obviously, youre not specified to be biological or adopted but it doesnt really matter, uuuuh yeah! CWs: child getting injured, canon typical violence, death

MASKY

oh he is going to be pissed... the second he sees you on the ground writhing in pain and grabbing your now slashed arm hes going to be seeing red

he already had plans to tackle your aggressor even if it meant taking the knife, so in his eyes you getting hurt was needless

hes not angry with you, at least not for the most part but hes not going to get onto you right now in that moment, and he probably wont for a while

jumps onto the attacker in the moment of shock where they realize theyve stabbed a child, he wastes no time in taking them down...

...he... may get a little more aggressive than he needs to be, whats left behind is no where near clean or pretty but hes not at all concerned with that

doesnt check on you in the moment, rather he opts to take you somewhere else where you can hide out... he wants to be able to properly check and tend to you without having to look over his shoulder in case theres more people

once everything is calmed down hes going to give you a stern talk about throwing yourself into danger like that

but... he doesnt totally stomp all over your efforts, he does let you know what you did was commendable but he makes it clear to never do it again

HOODIE

similar to masky, he had the situation under control for the most part... at least until he got backed into the corner

his plan was to try to slam into his attacker to loop back to his dropped weapon, however that quickly changed when you charged in and took a hit from the man who cornered him

hoodie keeps his composure more than masky, he scoops you up and makes a dash for it and keeps to his original plan for the most part

he doesnt want to hack and slash at someone while youre dangling in his other arm for fear of further hurting you, so he drops you off nearby but still close enough to reassure him that youre not too far away

takes less time to kill the attacker compared to his counterpart, he wants to get back to you sooner instead of taking his anger out on them

rushes back to you and checks you there on the spot to make sure theres nothing to immediately worry about such as bleeding, he will further check you when youre both somewhere safer

takes this as an opportunity to go over plans for things like this, what he needs you to do when hes backed up like that

likely also teaches you some defense as well as how to use basic weapons if things ever go south again

this just encourages him to work harder, he cant have this happen again

[cafeinthemoon]

It's a Fire - Chapter IV

Chapter 4

Wordcount 4,3k

Title Difficult Task

Fandom Kimetsu no Yaiba / Demon Slayer

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3

Symbols ⭕ ➕ 🖤

Warnings: mentions of grief and loss; parent issues; feelings of abandonment and rejection; issues between employees and employer

Tagging @chiyokoemilia (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: This chapter took days to be finished, not only bc of its length, but mainly bc I was finding it a bit confusing. I wasn't sure of how I should portrait this "advance" in reader and Shinjuro's relationship, neither how much of reader and Senjuro's grief after the scene in the living room: sometimes I thought I just wrote enough, and other times I though it wasn't as emotional as it should be, so that what you're going to read is the best I could come up with.

Soon I'm going to return to work, so Idk how things will be, so I ask you a bit of patience and thank you in advance for supporting me :)

It wasn’t shame what you felt when you looked into your stepson’s eyes, neither it was fear or irritation for being caught in a place where you shouldn’t be: it was the concern that he might have observed your face for long enough to read your emotions with too precision for someone his age. And, in fact, you were tempted to show a passionate reaction, whether to confirm or to deny your feelings, just for the sake of getting that weight off your chest, but you tightened the reigns around your tongue and didn’t do any of this.

This is adults’ problem. He doesn’t need to share this load with us.

Senjuro looked around, as if waiting for someone to show up suddenly and, after making sure it wouldn’t happen, stepped into the room.

– So… you found out about the living room? – he questioned with the usual hesitation – It’s been a while since this place was visited. Except for the maid.

You still felt your eyes burning with the things you were seeing there, but you wouldn’t burst out in tears. You sighed and crossed your arms.

– Yes, I can see that – after an embarrassing silence, you forced a smile while observing the photographs – Now I understand why I had no permission to enter this room. I should’ve obeyed the rules.

– But you’d find out about this sooner or later, I guess – was the boy’s reply – And my father isn’t here, anyway. Not even he uses to come here anymore.

You swallowed.

– If that’s the case, we better leave before he returns to the house.

He agreed and you walked out at that moment, taking care not to mess up anything, thus creating proof of your passage there.

***

You were sitting on a wood bench somewhere in the garden, as you used to do during the breaks between one training session and another or when you decide to eat lunch there, which was that day’s case. It was a safe spot to relax, as well as to talk.

And you had too much to talk.

Still embarrassed, you took the responsibility of starting the conversation.

– I should never enter that room. No matter if I escaped without being caught, it was wrong. But it’s too late for regrets now, I guess.

You said those things with a calm that surprised even yourself. When you first spotted Senjuro in the doorway, you swore you wouldn’t be able to look at him again, and even worse it would be to face your husband once he got back, trying your best to hide what you did from him, but that wasn’t how you felt now. You were rather sad for what you discovered, and for the things such discovery implied.

Senjuro noticed this too, and he said that to you.

– You don’t seem so mad about the photographs, y/n. I thought you’d be offended that my father keeps them in an entire room instead of, like, a drawer.

You gave him a sad smile.

– Why would I be mad by this? I mean, I could imagine him keeping photographs and other memories in drawers like you say, and seeing the whole room full of them was… unexpected. Still, I’m no one to judge – you lowered your tone, as if the next thing you’d share with him was more of a delicate conclusion – Instead, seeing them got me thinking about your situation here.

The boy frowned.

– Situation? What do you mean?

You moved on your spot, as to shake off the discomfort of entering that strange territory.

– Well, I’ve been avoiding intrusions, but this time I can’t help it. Senjuro-san, your family... was beautiful with your mother and your elder brother there. I’ve felt that as soon as I’ve put my eyes on those photographs. Your father… – you felt your cheeks getting hot with what you were about to say, but you ignored the sensation – He’s a completely different person by their side, and yours. He looks really happy there. I could never imagine him like that, you know? I guess this is what surprised me most – you bit your lip – Because, when I found out I’d have to live with you, I had no idea of what I’d see here, and after the things I’ve experienced, seeing our life together as something positive was impossible. But, then, I’ve saw your family as it once was… And understood that the issue is deeper than it first looked. The loss you’ve both endured… that’s too much…

A leaf fell from the tree behind your bench. Senjuro held it on his right hand.

– I understand what you’re trying to say. I was too little when my mother passed away, so I barely remember her except through the photographs and the things my father and my brother told me. I only remember what happened to my father when he lost her. My brother would speak more about this if he was here because he felt that too, even more after he became a Hashira – the leaf twirled between his fingers while he spoke – Slowly, that enthusiastic, gentle man who raised us turned into a bitter stranger. He started to drink. He spent most of his time in his room, and when he left it, he barely looked at us. Everything he held dear lost its value to him. It was strange, like watching someone you love dying in front of you, while another person takes their place. It was like losing him soon after losing my mother…

Senjuro’s voice cracked a bit in those last words. When you raised your eyes to him, you noticed him sobbing. You didn’t think twice: approaching the boy, you just passed your arms around him, as to assure his right to cry. You looked around, at the weather, and realized the blur in your sight: you were crying yourself too.

You did your best to put yourself together, and waited until your stepson was able to do the same.

– When my mother died, my father changed too – you adjusted yourself in your spot – He never had a problem with drinking or anything like this, but he wasn’t the same man who raised me. He started to isolate himself and making senseless decisions concerning our house, our business and everything else. Half of our staff left us, and even the people of our village noticed we were having problems. Our situation became worse when the stories about Oni started spreading among the common folk, and my father, not knowing how to deal with the financial problems and too proud to seek for help, was about to go insane – you swallowed – I’ve tried to help him, I’ve tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t let me. He thought it was easier to send me away and stay there, rotting inside that house while demons devastated our lands at night – you felt your lower lip starting to tremble and continued to speak, to avoid a stronger reaction – He abandoned himself, abandoned our people…

At that point you gave up and fell silent, but Senjuro finished the thought for you.

– ...And abandoned you – he glanced at you – No wonder you burned his letter without opening it.

Your heart ached with the memory, but it wasn’t remorse what you felt.

– This is something I don’t regret. As much as I don’t regret defending you from Rengoku-sama. I mean, now I can see that life showed no mercy on him, but treating you like that was terrible and unfair, and the same can be said about my father. Their suffering makes us comprehend them, but it doesn’t excuse their mistakes.

– And what do you think we must do, y/n?

You opened your mouth, but closed it again to think of a sensible response.

It’s strange to tell someone what to do. Is this what’s expected from parents? What a duty to fulfill...

– In your father’s case, I believe we can stay as we are – you spoke slowly – Since we know he’s been enduring so much, we won’t do anything to increase his load. At the same time, we can’t let him cross boundaries and treat us as he wants.

Senjuro seemed to approve the idea, but he still had concerns.

– It makes sense. I’ve been doing this since I can remember, but I still feel guilty. When I see my father in that state, I think I should be doing something for him – he sighed – Sometimes, I think this is what he expects from me, and that’s why he acts so harshly.

That was your time to be concerned. You’ve already noticed that, due to his easygoing nature, Senjuro had a tendency of taking heavy burdens to himself, but you wouldn’t sit and watch him giving in to this inclination and becoming an adult before his natural time just because the real adult was unable to act like one.

– But you already do what you can for him, Senjuro-san. You’re a good and respectful son. You keep your things organized and clean, and don’t mind doing hard work. It doesn’t matter if your father says that out loud or keeps it to himself, I’m sure he knows that.

– Do you think so? – his doubt was genuine; it was clear that he never tried to see things from such perspective.

– Yes – you replied with all the possible firmness – You can continue to act with kindness, but it’s not your duty to fix him. Honestly, even I don’t know if there’s something I can do for Rengoku-sama besides staying out of his way. Yet being too hard on ourselves because of this won’t help us at all.

Senjuro thought of that for a moment.

– It also means that you don’t know what you have to do to help your father?

You moved your head slowly in agreement.

– Yes. It does.

– But don’t you think you can find a way if you talk to him?

You looked away. You clearly weren’t expecting that. Still, you didn’t avoid the question.

– I don’t know. I really don’t know.

***

You could say you’ve worked hard to act according to your own words in the days that followed that conversation. You created a routine that included waking up early and taking time to organize your surroundings just like you used to do in your father’s house, then leaving to the kitchen to prepare breakfast (that was a task that Senjuro took to himself since the cook decided to quit, so having you there to take care of this spared him time and avoided more of his father’s scolding for minor mistakes and waste of ingredients); after that, you would leave with your stepson to your usual training session, and then you took separate ways in your daily activities: while he stood with tasks outside the house, you took the responsibility of cleaning and organizing the interior, thus giving the servants the chance of going back home while the sun was still high in the sky instead of being forced to spend the night there, away from their families; finally, while Senjuro returned to his room to study, you would go to your own to bathe and relax.

It was simple, and it worked for everyone… or so you told yourself every time you remembered that your husband wasn’t included in this perfect scheme. Thing was that, since the incident with the wood sword, he actively avoided you in the rooms and corridors, which didn’t make much to shake your moods – instead, you were relieved with this distance; however, after the day you found the photographs, you were the one mimicking such behavior, and your almost non existent relationship just turned into a sequence of unexpected, embarrassing encounters where opening your mouth to say “good morning” was harder than passing by each other and running away.

There was one day when, to answer the plead of a maid, you had to swallow this embarrassment and replace it with courage: while you were cleaning a room not so far from yours, she confided to you that her payment has been delayed, as well as the other servants’.

– I have some debts I need to pay, and I’ve been trying to gain some time with my creditors, but they’re getting impatient – she explained – In normal circumstances, I would’ve paid everything already, but now I’m really desperate, y/n-sama.

You frowned.

– I see. But how did everything turn out this way?

The girl approached you, as to reveal some shameful secret.

– I know it’s none of my concern, but I’ve seen things in this house, and the other servants, who have been here for longer than me, told me what they’ve saw – she whispered – Since the previous lady’s decease, problems concerning the house’s workers became common. The previous accountant left his position and no one was hired in his place, so the financial responsibility was on the young Senjuro. Of course, he’s an honest boy and did what he could to help, but he’s not a professional, and sometimes mistakes were made. The people who still work here haven’t left yet in consideration for him, and because they really need the jobs. It’s Takumi-san’s case. Last time he tried to reason with Rengoku-sama, he became furious and gave him two choices: to go back to work or to leave and never return – she shrugged – He decided to stay, but only if a solution appears. He’s one of our best workers. If he leaves, things will become even worse for us.

You had to stop for a moment to process the things you’ve just heard. You immediately remembered that young man who had a bottle of sake thrown at him in the corridor.

So, that was the cause of Shinjuro’s outburst. Unbelievable.

The situation at the Rengoku’s house was even worse than your father’s: the servants just gave up on their work and left, except for the few in desperate circumstances, and the whole responsibility over the finances has been tossed at a kid? That time, you couldn’t just ignore it.

– Listen, I… I’m really surprised with this situation, as much as I may seem – you told her, not hiding the shame even though it wasn’t your fault – Senjuro-san never told me anything about this, otherwise I would’ve already done something. I’m... really sorry for this. But now that I’m informed, what can I do to help you?

The maid hesitated. She knew the difficult of what she was going to ask.

– Please, y/n-sama, talk to Rengoku-sama in our name – she bowed her head – We know he has a… complex temper, but he seems to respect you. Maybe there’s a chance of him to listen to you.

Well, if the financial issues were surprising to you, the reasons behind the maid’s request were shocking. The servants thought Shinjuro respected you? That man who barely looked at your direction? What a situation you’ve gotten into… But you couldn’t make it even worse by bringing the maid’s – and the whole staff’s – expectations down by telling her that you were too insecure to speak to your husband about a domestic problem, so you did what in other circumstances you’d never consider possible.

– Don’t worry – you swallowed – I will speak to him as soon as possible.

After an effusive “Thank you”, she left to tell the others about your resolution.

The glow of relief and gratitude in the girl’s eyes soothed part of your anxiety, but solely because you knew you were doing the right thing – it had nothing to do with your task being easy. Truth was that you didn’t even know where you should start: should you look for Shinjuro in his room or to wait until you’d meet him in another part of the house? Was it better to bring the subject right in the beginning of the conversation, or should you warm up until the appropriate moment? And, of course, how was he going to react? That is, you saw what he did to the young man; there was nothing to assure you that he wouldn’t try anything like that toward you.

You finished your work and went out to deliberate. You walked around the house, in and out of the garden, trying to come up with a reasonable solution, but nothing occurred to you. That time you also weren’t going to talk to your stepson: Senjuro would be informed about the situation only after everything was solved, and the same would be in the case of the servants, to avoid a commotion.

I’m really alone in this.

As it used to happen when you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize where your wanderings were taking you to until you stopped and looked around… and recognized the front of Shinjuro’s porch. You froze in your spot, less because of this than because you almost bumped into him on the way.

You startled and covered your mouth to avoid a scream. You stepped back and stood there, staring at the man, who was also surprised to meet you so suddenly in a part of the building you weren’t often seen. But, just like it happened to you now, he seemed to anxious to inquire you.

Somehow you were the first to speak.

– Rengoku-sama… I…

You moved your lips, but no words were found to continue the sentence. Your eyes lowered to his hands, and it was with a sort of relief that you noticed the absence of a bottle. Did the sake finish and he was going to get more, or did he see you approaching and got rid of it before you saw it? You couldn’t tell, but at that moment you recalled your previous encounters with him and realized that, since the conflict at the garden, in each of them, he wasn’t drinking, yet sake was still being bought judging by the bottles you always saw piling up in the kitchen.

Is he avoiding to drink in my presence?

– You wanted to speak to me, y/n? – his voice brought you back to reality; your relief grew when you noticed the composed tone in it.

– Yes. Yes, I… – you hid your hands behind your back – There’s an issue I need to discuss with you.

Shinjuro showed no signs of being bothered by the word issue, unlike you were expecting. Instead, he seemed intrigued: you’ve been doing your things all by yourself since you were brought to his house, and now you wanted to talk to him about something? That was new.

– And what is it?

You breathed deep.

The time is now. What do I have to do?

You glanced behind him and saw his room’s door was open. That gave you an idea.

– Would you mind talking somewhere else? – you shrugged – A private place, maybe?

He didn’t make objections to this, indicating his room and inviting you to follow him.

***

As he sat with his legs crossed, you knelt in front of him, having the door, left open, at your right. Your hands were over your lap, as you waited to see what he was going to do.

By all means, Shinjuro was a practical man, so that fortunately he didn’t let this waiting to extend.

– So, what is it that you need to discuss with me? – he inquired – I suppose it must be too important, for you to seek for me so suddenly.

– In fact – you confirmed; and, taking a deep breath, – But it’s nothing related to myself, actually. It’s about the people who work in here.

You noticed a slight twist on his lips when he heard that, but you gave no time for him to react.

– I was told that the servants are facing struggles with the decreasing in the personnel, and that my stepson was left to take care of the matters despite this – you moved on your spot; your feet, folded under your legs, started causing you discomfort, but you ignored it – I won’t discuss this arrangement, but there are problems that need attention right now and, because I am your wife, I was asked to seek for a solution alongside you.

Unlike you imagined, Shinjuro listened to all of this in silence, and after you finished he kept quiet. No physical or verbal outbursts followed, but if he was measuring what he just heard or trying to control his irritation, you couldn’t tell, and that was worse: with the usual anger and bad moods you could deal with, whether by running away or facing him, but with the absence of them you didn’t know what to expect. You clenched your hands against each other.

Come on, say something. Even if it’s just to call me an intruder. Just odn’t let me without a response.

And, then, Shinjuro gave you a response… and though you didn’t know what you were waiting for, it was different from anything you could’ve expected.

– The servants’ payments are delayed. I know that – he started; no impatience was sensed in his tone, just a sort of boredom – Our accountant left, and no one was able to properly replace him. Senjuro found out about this and asked to do something, and I had no choice. He’s better with paper and ink than with a sword. Besides, having responsibilities would be good for him to grow up.

You made an inhuman effort not to gasp at his justifications. Did he really think leaving that work for a kid was a good idea? But you reminded yourself that you weren’t there to argue, but to fix the problem, so you let him continue.

– Of course, I knew it wouldn’t work forever, and if you came to talk about this, it’s because it needs to change – he sighed – But let me tell you that the payments aren’t delayed for no reason. Things have been difficult for us, and hiring someone to manage finances won’t be cheap. It’s something we can’t deal with it right now. So, what do you suggest? Should I hire a new accountant anyway?

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You understood that, if Shinjuro wasn’t even trying to hide those problems, they must have become really serious. You also knew that the services of accountants and administrators weren’t cheap, but that wasn’t a good reason to let everything to Senjuro.

I can’t believe I’m going to propose this…

Your husband asked a suggestion, and you ended up offering the only one you could think of.

– Let this task with me, Rengoku-sama – you bowed, leaning your hands on the floor but not touching it with your forehead – I used to do this sort of work while in my father’s house in the times we were on a budget and unable to hire someone for it. I didn’t continue to work on this when the crisis with the Oni started because I was sent here.

He thought of this for a moment… And the response he gave you brought out some unpleasantness, both in his words and the subject.

– Leaving the money in your hands to manage? Y/n, I do believe your father let you work on this, but I can’t help finding it strange that, exactly when your lands were facing the worst crisis in a long time, he decided to send you away instead of keeping you there to take care of everything.

Still with your head bowed, you bit your lip.

Are you calling me an incompetent or what?

Shinjuro was aware of the delicate state in which your relationship with father was, so bringing it to the table right now had no intention but to test you: would you have the necessary stability to take such responsibility? As if he had any right to speak of stability… Well, in spite of that, he was the head of that house, thus having the final word in this matter, so if he decided to decline your offer, he would do it without thinking twice, and then your attempt to help the workers – as well as their trust in you – would drift away.

Alright, start whining and all this conversation will end up useless. I’ll swallow my inflamed ego, then.

You raised your head, ignored the provocation and sent it back to your husband.

– I agree. It’s really strange when you put it that way, Rengoku-sama… – your hands relaxed on your lap – As much as it’s strange that, despite the similar issues in you house which you’ve just addressed, you accepted me as an extra mouth to feed under your roof.

Not so strange when we remember the existence of my dowry, I mean.

If Shinjuro guessed this very thought or if he was not in the mood to continue that discussion, you’d never know, but that was precisely what he did: gave up on arguing and just left it up to you.

He stood up and walked to the porch, indicating that the conversation was over.

– Do as you wish, then. The old accountant’s office is on the other side of the house. It’s easier to access it if you walk around the porch. Senjuro knows exactly where it is. Ask him for help if you need it.

You stared at him for a moment. So everything was solved so easily? Or was it just you who were exaggerating the difficult of your task? It was impossible to know, and you wouldn’t stay there to find out: you just accepted the results and stood up, heading to the exit.

You passed by your husband and bowed again.

– Thank you for accepting my proposal, Rengoku-sama. I’ll do my best.

The only response you had from him was a nod, and you left to find the said office thinking of how strange was that man you married, how tricky it has been for you to understand him and what sort of things were waiting for you in that corner of the house.

[kiwikiwiandkiwi]

HARRY BEING HARRY ON TOUR — Love on Tour: UK + Europe Leg, 2023

[deoidesign]

important distinction.

Testing a few different things with this one

[fauna-and-floraa]

Hyunjin & Seungmin & I.N : 탄수 Vlog in Busan

[harbingersecho]

[cupiidzbow]

ummm sorry if i come off as a bit of a debbie downa I think I gotta add raw meat/cannibalism/implications of cannibalism to my please tag bc i know this site like themes of that and stuff but it always makes me incredibly upset everytime and i always try to push it away bc I don’t want ruin peoples fun but it makes me extremely upset and very physically sick irl . sorry about that ☝🏽

[skitskatdacat63]

"Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily."

+ process(tw blood)

Also, look at him, bloody little guy 🥹

This drawing was inspired by several matador pics :D here and here:

^ I don't think I'll ever live up to the second one ah. There's several pics of that specific guy just soaked with blood, and I'm uh a bit obsessed with then ITS FUCKED UP I KNOW OKAY! But I've not drawn blood in a while so it was a bit difficult so I added less than I would want to I guess. Also I'm obsessed with how often they kneel in bullfighting?? Like okay who are you arching your back and spreading your legs for-

[bisexualcherdegre]

D:BH Rarepairsweek 7 | @dbhrarepairs

Day 7 - Chloe/North | Good Luck, Babe! ~ Chappell Roan

[absenthearted]

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD || HACKEARNEY + ALTERNATE UNIVERSES [1/?]

A girl walks into the woods, and a wolf walks out.

The village has a tradition: a girl is chosen as a sacrifice to the Wolf. The Huntsman leads the Chosen into the woods and keeps vigil at the entrance. 

The girl does not come back. The Wolf stays away.

This is how it has always been—until now.