#if people in public see me with my wrist braces on and ask me whats up i just tell them carpal tunnel though lmfao

[oflgtfol]

like back in oh i dont know 2017 maybe when i first went to the doctor for my wrists they said that the ligament in both of my wrists both had an identical, small tear at identical locations, and so like im not a doctor, and i havent gone back to the doctor for my wrists since then, and i kinda dont want to because at this point it is what it is its just a waste of money to just go to the doctor for the sake of it and nothing else whatever, but im assuming that the actual sprains have technically healed, but because they persisted for so long this is just the. long term effects of it.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

When Darkness Falls

Orestes x afab!Monster!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 16: Public Sex

Summary: After Orestes and his men are captured by a strange group, the punishment seems unusual.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for beating and saving me as always! I don't know how my mind turned 'public sex' into this.

Warnings: Monster!Reader (werewolf-y), swearing, p in v sex, injuries, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1850

Orestes winced as the guard pressed against his injured shoulder and forced him to his knees. His wrists were bound behind his back, so tightly that the rope was cutting off the blood supply to his fingers.

“You are accused of trespassing on our lands. From taking fruit from the Hylopius tree.” The man bellowed, he was dressed in dark blue robes finely woven. Seven others, presumably nobles and the jury, stood to his side. 

“My men and I were lost, we took shelter from the storm. We did not know these were your lands,” Orestes tries to keep his tone strong and even, to keep his chin high as he answers. “We-”

“Ignorance is not an excuse.” He snarls. “You pillage, and take. But you are far from your Rome now. Your crimes will not go unpunished.” 

Orestes breathes deeply. “Please, my men, they are innocent in this. I will take the punishment, if you let-”

“You are in no position to demand anything.”

“I am not demanding, I am-” The leader gestures with his hand and Orestes winces in pain as the guard presses against the wound in his temple.

“Your men fought back against our soldiers, they are as guilty as you are. I will cast punishment on you all.” He grins wickedly. “The Lycan’s Pit.” 

The noblemen laugh.

Orestes is dragged to his feet and pulled from the room, “What, what is that? What do you speak of?” 

The guards do not answer as he is taken into a large hall beautifully decorated in fine mosaic. The images of torn bodies and blood, of huge creatures with red eyes shaped like the beasts of childhood nightmares painstakingly crafted. There are rows of seats carved into the walls, the layout reminiscent of a small scale colosseum, able to hold around 50 people.

In the centre of the room was a circle pit that seemed to travel into the depths of the earth itself. 

“They will feast on your flesh.” The leader laughs. 

“Wait-” A loud gong of a bell echoes out, cutting off his words as he is thrown into the middle of the room next to the pit, he grunts, managing to get to his knees as the guards bring out thorned branches layered with silver chains. They arrange them around the outside of the floor, a barrier from the seats and Orestes. 

“What is that?” He asks.

The nobles take seats as the guards stand to attention, more people flood in, all equally dressed in finery and sit.

“The Lycans cannot cross the barrier.” The leader laughs, like he was explaining a basic concept. 

“I wonder who will join us today?” One nobel asks another.

“I hope it is Baral. He is the most vicious. I want to see him tear the roman apart.” 

Orestes swallows thickly, pulling at the ropes. If he could just…

There is a low growl from the pit. A deep and terrible snap of teeth. 

He freezes despite myself when a large clawed hand grabs hold of the side. It‘s huge, the palm alone bigger than his head, some kind of mix between a human and a wolf. 

Slowly the creature pulls itself up and out, snarling with rows of sharp teeth and blood red eyes. 

He wants to scream. But he can’t move, can’t think.

A hush falls on the nobles as the creature appears and stalks around to Orestes. 

He seems to snap back to reality, and struggles to stand, to run, to defend himself, to-

The creature lunges forward and on top of him. 

He closes his eyes, bracing for the sharp stink of ripping claws and teeth. But it doesn’t come. 

He breathes deeply, raggedly, his heart pounding in his temples and slowly opens his eyes.

It’s dark, like he’s in a cave. It takes a moment for him to realise that the cave is fur. The creature seemingly, somehow draped over him to make a small tent like space. 

He sits up a little, his shoulder brushing the fur. It’s soft and warm, moving a little with the creature's breath.

“Hello.” 

He jumps, pushing himself back further against the fur and you giggle. 

“I am sorry to scare you.” 

Orestes blinks heavily, you’re sitting opposite him crouched with a large smile on your face. He can see your canines, larger than a person’s should be, and your eyes deep and red. But beautiful, oh so painfully beautiful.

You give him a little wave and he nods his head. 

“They tied you?” Your voice is sweet and gentle.

He nods again. 

You tut and carefully edge forward. 

He swallows, sucking in a breath in spite of himself, you move like running water, swift and mesmerising, your body completely naked. 

You watch him as you move, careful for any signs of distress like he was an injured rabbit in a trap. 

You reach back and cut the ropes with your sharp nails that retract a little when you are finished. 

“There you go.” “Thank you.” He mutters, staring bewitched as you move back a fraction but remain close. “There is a creature, a…”

You smile. He knows it’s you.

“Where are we?” He swallows, rubbing life back into his fingers. 

“We are not where you were.” 

“Am I dead?” 

You shake your head. “We will have to return there, shortly. Here is just to talk for a moment.” You touch his temple, the gooey blood on his skin. 

He flinches but doesn’t pull away when he realises your touch is gentle. 

“Are you going to kill me?” He breathes, watching you intently. His heart is still beating fast, his muscles tingling with adrenaline. But he doesn’t want to run or fight, he wants… he wants to…

“No.” You smile, taking your fingers to your lips and licking off his blood. 

“Why?” He asks without thinking. 

You laugh lightly. “You smell… nice.”

“Nice?” His mouth twitches upwards, surprised. 

You nod, leaning a little forward. “You don’t smell like food.” You whisper.

Orestes swallows. He can’t help himself, can’t stop himself even if he wanted to. He tilts his head and presses his lips to yours in a rush. 

You lick into his mouth and he tastes his own blood on your tongue. He groans, lightheaded and needy as he presses himself closer.

He whines when you pull back a fraction, smiling. “You smell like a mate.” 

Orestes nods desperately. “Please.”

“Do you accept me?” 

He nods rapidly, pushing himself closer to you again. His cock aches between his legs, pressing against his clothing and begging to be freed. 

“In any form?” 

“In any form.” He mutters. “Please.” 

You grin. 

In a blink of his eyes, he is back in the mosaic hall, flat on his back. The nobles watching as the creature, you, lean over him, your teeth so close to snapping into the flesh of his neck. 

He turns his head, touches your soft fur with his free hands. “Please.” 

You let out a soft growl, the sound vibrating through his chest. 

There’s some quiet murmuring from the crowd, anticipation as they think he’s about to get eaten alive.

With one clawed hand, you lightly dip under his clothing, ripping it in two clean down the middle. 

Orestes gasps, biting his lip as you bow your head down and lick a broad flat stripe with your thick tongue. You start between his legs, rising up his body until you flick just under his jaw. 

He groans, his eyes rolling back as he squirms under you, your strong form keeping him pressed down and at your mercy. 

There are a few confused whispers, surprised at how he seems to be enjoying himself. 

His cock is already painfully hard, throbbing in time with his rapid heartbeat. You nuzzle at his neck, your breath hot on his skin as you lay yourself fully over him, moving your legs and taking his length inside yourself. 

Orestes gasps, moaning loudly as he sinks inside. He claws at your fur, trying to pull you closer as he shakes. It feels so good, liquid pleasure running up his spine as he fills you that practically paralyses him in place. 

His cry of passion is almost indistinguishable from one of pain, and at first, the crowd thinks he has been split open. 

You growl and he shivers as you rock your hips. It’s like you’re everywhere, touching him with claws and teeth and nails and hands. He can feel your lips on his thighs and stomach, fur and skin on his chest, both forms seemingly at once as you increase your pace. 

It’s electric, addicting as you devour him; mind, and body, and soul. 

“Yes, yes, please, yes,” he moans, uncaring of the many eyes watching him hurtling rapidly to his release. Your heat squeezes him, caresses him, lets him sink deeper into mind numbing pleasure. 

“Please,” he sobs, he wants to call your name but he realises, painfully, that he hadn’t asked for it, instead he pulls at your fur, at your shoulders, at any part of you he can reach. 

You snap your teeth and it sounds like a chuckle before you lick along his neck and drag your canines along his skin. 

“My heart,” he whispers, his voice strained, “I’m, I’m close.” He doesn’t want this to stop, to ever end. But he can feel his body racing towards his climax like an unbridled horse. His hips buck, his balls tightened. 

You rock faster, you slick running down and coating his skin as your warmth begs for his release. In this form, you need his pleasure desperately. Can only have your own as he experiences his. 

He whines, crying out beautifully as his back arches. He comes loudly, shivering and sobbing as he empties into you, giving you every single part of himself. 

Pleasure rushes along your veins, embeds in your bones and you howl, long and hard as you come with him. 

You lick into his mouth, cradling him as he nuzzles against you. 

“Foolish beast!” The leader yells, shouting for the guards. 

One hurls a spear at you that clatters off your form as if it was a rain drop. But Orestes flinches.

And you snarl. 

You turn quickly, jumping from him and barreling through the barrier that does absolutely nothing to stop you. You rip the guards and nobles to pieces in a matter of seconds, moving faster than they can fathom as they scream in terror. How dare they threaten him, your mate. 

You blink, the rage dulling.

Slowly, you turn back to Orestes, worried for a second about your outburst until you see his soft eyes as he reaches out for you. You move back to him, nuzzling your face into his palm. 

He kisses your nose, your cheek, licking some of the sprayed blood from your fur as you embrace him, laying him back down under you protectively. 

“I did not ask for your name, my love.” He whispers softly and smiles when you mutter it against his ear. He repeats it slowly with undying affection. 

Thank you for reading!

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[cassatine]

hello hello beautiful internet people here i be again… to stay, hopefully, but who knows. got kinda overwhelmed by life, feat., among other things:

the neverending spring cleaning of death (i did not see my floor for like a month, it was like a very intense game of the floor is lava but the lava was mostly books)

the fair season of hell (working every weekend for peanuts is deeply uncool, for the record, especially since turns out i am a magnet for every insane conspirationist and "science proves god exists" type, idk what the fuck is up this year but every time i'm reading during the lull hours, be it Bensaïd, Bullough, Guérin, Graeber, or who the fuck ever, some dude or another just has to start reccing full-on wackos and also mansplaining politics and finances and society and vaccines. i'm thinking about swearing off reading nonfiction in public)

me fucking up my wrist and my knee fucking me up (i'm still wearing a brace and also i have to do reeducation; at least it isn't two braces anymore)

me dealing with the post-smoking weight gain (dealing badly, we don't talk about it)

the job agency coming for my ass with a vengeance (i am now incorporated! technically it's in progress, whatever. i had to fill papers. so much paperwork. i guess i am now an entrepeneur, a word that gives me rashes)

Lady Justice coming for our asses with a vengeance (the pigs played great escape in the neighbour's fields one too many time, let us say)

the local crafters' shop coming for my ass with an offer (okay that's excellent but for the timing)

also feat. two anniversaries, that of my reaching Jesus' age, and that of my reaching one whole ass year without smoking or drugs. my present was an extremely late showing of gotg3. i asked for it and thus prompted a month or so of jokes about my going to see a marvel movie, har har har. by being extremely not online for the last month+, i managed to avoid any and all spoilers, which was good excepted for the part where i was not emotionally ready, like, at all.

also new: i put up a huge poster of Louise Michel, atop barricades, with a red flag that says "vive la Commune," on one of my walls, which isn't exactly worth reporting about but is very cool nonetheless. of such small things is joy made etc etc.

[outtakesfrommars]

Polychromatic Fingerprints

“You did this last night.”

Ms. Singh was either psychic or an incredible judge of character. Nora had only been in her class for three months, but it seemed the art teacher had already caught on to her ways—namely the fact that a project set to be worked on daily throughout the term, culminating in a piece to be presented on the final day of class, was not her style.

Unfortunately for Nora, “not her style” wasn’t a valid excuse for not completing an assignment, so after brushing off the creeping hand of the deadline for as long as she possibly could, she’d had to actually sit down and produce a piece of work. Just as Ms. Singh had pointed out, this had been done the night previous.

It was almost funny, in a sad sort of way, because the assignment really wasn’t that bad. It was relatively open ended, and when it came to public school art classes, that was a rare blessing. The students were allowed to make anything they wanted with any medium, the only criteria was that it had to be a regular endeavour throughout the term, and that it had to express some facet of who they were.

This was where the issue lay. Nora didn’t know who she was, and even if she did, she wouldn’t be sharing it with some woman she barely knew and thirty of her most dull-witted and pretentious classmates. She wouldn’t be smearing it on a canvas and hanging it in the hall for people to gawk at. Her story, her identity, everything about who she was—it wasn’t made to be displayed, it was made to be hidden away until it was inevitably dragged out of her in a court-mandated therapy session thirty years down the road.

But she couldn’t say any of that to Ms. Singh.

“No I didn’t.”

Ms. Singh reached forward and grabbed her wrist. Every muscle in Nora’s body tensed, preparing to rip her arm free and flee the room. Her heart fluttered in her chest like a trapped animal. There were a million outcomes playing at once in her head, a million verbal lacerations that were about to be cast at her. She braced herself and waited for the reckoning.

It didn’t come. Instead, Ms. Singh gently pulled her arm forward, holding it up for Nora to see.

There was a smear of dark orange across her skin, the exact same shade that covered most of the canvas laying on the desk beside her.

“That’s um…I was painting something else. With the same paints. Last night. So…”

That was believable.

Ms. Singh released her arm and swiped a hand across the canvas, holding up her own finger for Nora to see the bright stain which exposed her.

“It’s still wet,” Ms. Singh said.

“Huh…” Nora pursed her lips. “Acrylic…takes a long time to dry.”

That simply wasn’t true. Someone who knew nothing about art supplies may have bought it, but this woman literally spent her life surrounded by paint. It seemed the fumes hadn’t caused her deduction skills to deteriorate. She didn’t say a word, just held Nora in a steady, disappointed gaze.

Was this what it felt like to be given the silent treatment? Responded to with nothing more than dead eyes and tight lips?

Maybe she needed to stop doing that.

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” Ms. Singh replied. This woman really got her. “The point of this assignment was not for you to finish something and hand it in to me, Nora.”

“Wasn’t it?” Nora laughed. “That’s literally the whole point of school. Why would anybody do anything if it wasn’t to hand it in, get a grade, and move on?”

Ms. Singh gave her a look, though Nora couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind it. “Is that what you think?” she asked. “That you’re just here to get good grades and move on.”

“I never said good,” she muttered.

Ms. Singh sighed and when she spoke again, her voice was hard and cold as ice. “Nora, you’re not doing this for me. And if you’re only here to pass my class and move on, then I don’t want you in my class at all.”

Nora’s heart dropped into her stomach. She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out.

Ms. Singh’s expression softened. “But that’s not why you’re here, is it? You want to be here. You want to learn. And I want to help you.” She stood up and walked around the desk, eyeing the still-wet painting as she did. “Which is why I’m not going to grade this.”

“What?”

“Go home and try again. Take some time over the break and really think about what you want to do. Spend some time with your art, let it speak to you and in turn you can speak to me and to the world. You have things to say, Nora, I know you do. And I want to hear them. I don’t want to see a half-assed painting of a bunch of flowers. This isn’t you.”

“You don’t even know me,” Nora said stubbornly, raising the defenses once again.

“No,” Ms. Singh hummed. “But I’d like to. And I know this isn’t it. This is somebody who loves making art, and is very good at it…” Her hand hovered above the painting, tracing the lines of the petals and the shadows beneath them, the highlights and curves of the pot which they rested in. “I can tell that you’re very talented. But I can also tell this was made by someone who didn’t want to make it. It’s rushed. Lifeless.”

“I didn’t want to do it,” Nora admitted, wondering immediately why she was speaking so freely with this woman who didn’t know a thing about her but was acting like she knew everything. “I don’t like making things that someone else told me to do.”

Ms. Singh nodded knowingly. “I get that. Which is why I left it up to you to decide your subject.”

“But you’re still telling me to do it.”

Her teacher sighed. “Yes, Nora. Unfortunately, that’s my job. If I never ask you to do anything, never ask to see your work, never give you any feedback, then you might as well go home.”

“Fine by me.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” Ms. Singh said, a note of sarcasm in her voice that surprised Nora. “Don’t think I don’t know your type. If you weren’t interested in my class you wouldn’t even be here.”

There she was, accusing Nora of fitting a certain mold again. Of being a certain type. She hated it. It filled her with anger and frustration and the desire to revolt.

But it was accurate. She hated that it was accurate.

“I want you to do this again, but I’m not going to give you a deadline.”

Nora stared at her. “How does that work?”

Ms. Singh shrugged. “You tell me. I want you to create a piece on your own time, on the timeline that you want to work with. I don’t want it to be rushed and I don’t want it to be forced. I want you to actually enjoy making it. No deadline. No guidelines. Nothing.”

“Nothing,” Nora repeated disbelievingly. “So it can be anything I want?”

“Anything,” Ms. Singh confirmed. “When you’re done, I want you to come show it to me. And I hope that I’ll be able to see more of you in it than this.”

Nora was quiet for a moment, contemplating the proposal. It was a good offer. No teacher had ever given her complete free-reign of a project with absolutely no deadline. It was almost too good to be true, but she knew that it wasn’t, because what Ms. Singh was asking for was bigger than the reward of total freewill.

She wanted realness. She wanted vulnerability. And that was a price Nora wasn’t sure she was willing to pay.

“Okay,” she said finally.

Ms. Singh smiled. “Have a good break. I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

Nora was looking forward to it too. Mainly because she hadn’t yet decided whether she was going to really commit to an honest piece, or simply try a little harder to forge some pantomime of the truth.

[shoyoist]

── 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐔 : hinata shoyo.

content: fem!reader. switch dynamics for both shoyo and reader. hand job, inappropriate use of professional titles. semi public sex. — i just cannot get the thought of calling him senshu out of my mind v_v

— . ｡˚ ♡ letting him fuck your fist after the all stars game.

"'m so tired," hinata leans close and whispers in your ear, taking your wrist and squeezing gently as he leads you back into the locker room, now empty after everyone had finished up, having taken their things and left.

pushing you against the wall — the smooth surface cool against your body with the effect of the air con — he presses his forehead against yours as you reach up and tangle your fingers in his bright hair.

you kiss him, and he's quick to deepen it, opening his mouth and humming with satisfaction when he tastes your lip gloss on his tongue — his hands place themselves around your waist, pulling the lower half of your torso against his, bumping your bodies againt eachother— and when he feels your breath hitch at the contact, he smiles, breaking the kiss so he can look in your eyes. "wanna fuck in here?"

"thought you were tired." you say, voice soft as you meet his gaze with a half-lidded stare. you say it like you're denying his cute little request, but your actions show off otherwise — running a hand slowly down his chest — the fresh, white t-shirt he'd put on after his shower clings to his form beautifully, and you trace his muscles with gentle fingers as you make your way down. "don't you wanna go back to the hotel?"

"maybe i just wanted you to baby me," hinata grins, amber eyes sparkling as he leans in again, pressing hips lips back on yours. "give me kisses 'n suck my cock, make me feel better."

you try not to let it show, but a smile tugs at your mouth anyway, and you finally slip the hand that's been playing about with the waistband of his shorts through, slowly wrapping around his hardening cock—

you barely have his dick fisted before it's twitching in your grip, leaking hot precum onto the tips of your fingers. "mm, i didn't think the matchless hinata-senshu would need babying."

"huh?" hinata asks, brows creasing with pleasure when you swipe your thumb over his tip, collecting the sticky beads of cum and spreading it across his length, pumping his cock at an agonizingly slow pace — he braces himself with a palm placed flat against the wall by your head, other arm circling around your waist and pulling you into him. "say that again, baby."

you look into his eyes again, and see that familiar, sharp glint flecked into his fiery orbs — bringing your lips closer, right against the shell of his ear, you repeat what you knew he wanted to hear. "you like it? when i call you senshu?"

the squeeze you give his cock along with your words has him stumbling forward — maybe he really is tired — and he jerks his hips, cock now all flushed as he starts fucking into your fist, lips parting to let out a chain of hoarse pleas for you to say it one more time, for you to tighten your grip and move your hand up and down for him.

you hear the sound of footsteps passing by the locker room doors, the faint murmur of voices fading in and out — a thrill runs up your spine at the realization that fuck, you're gonna have to make this fast, or you'll get caught.

get caught? and have people find out you're fucking the star of the entire game, the entire monster generation, in the lockers after a game that he'd flown all the way from brazil for?

"c'mon, shoyo," you whisper, as he shuts his eyes and presses his face into your neck, exhaling heavily, his hot breath sending more shivers through you. "hurry up and cum, and then we can get back, finish things up there."

"hah — say it," he stutters, smelling of citrus and sweat as he falls into you, heavy and hot against your smaller frame, bicep flexing beside your face as he presses his forearm onto the wall, forehead resting on your shoulder, eyes fluttering open so he can see how you work your hand over his length, and meet your movements with shallow thrusts of his hips.

you wanna make him moan, wanna drive him over the edge of his high and beyond, into overstimulation, you wanna get on your knees and suck him dry right here and now — but really, you cant risk getting caught, no matter how tempting it is to fuck him in here, where any staff or cleaner could unlock the doors and walk in on you.

"you like cumming on my fingers, don't you?" you urge, free hand lazily carressing his stomach, feeling the way his abs flex and how his breathing becomes tentative and hurried as you slacken your wrist and bob your fist faster around his cock. "go on and cum for me. i know you like it, senshu."

"fuck," hinata growls, and you think he's about to cum — you know he's real damn close — but then he stops you from moving by clamping the hand that he'd kept at your hip this whole time around your wrist.

his hold is rough, and when he pulls your hand off his cock, grabs your chin and drags your face up so you see his expression, you see the fire in his eyes has picked up.

"yeah, i like cumming on your fingers." he rasps, and you experience for yourself firsthand, just how strong he's gotten, when he places his hands firmly at your side and lifts you off your feet, moving your positions around so he can rest his back against the wall and do this comfortably.

"mmh," you whine, when he puts you back down and grabs at the waistband of your skirt and pulls it down, snaps your panties to the side.

"on my cock, baby, make it fast," he breathes, pulling you onto him so his length is pressed to your ass, the precum streaked all the way down to his base slick against your fluttering cunt.

"i like cumming on your fingers," he whispers, snaking one hand up your torso and wrapping it around your throat, pulling your back to his chest — you realize that you're going to be stuck here in the lockers with him for a lot longer than you thought—

and as he slips his cock into your cunt, he says, breath hitching in your ear, "but i like cumming in here way more."

[daydreamingleclerc]

paris | mount, chilwell & reader smut

summary: you join the boys on a squad trip to paris, and after you and mason have a tipsy conversation with ben, he ends up in yours and mason’s hotel room. 

this is whole new territory for me to write about three people having sex but thank u to @mountftchilwell​ aka the platonic loml for hyping this idea up ily SO much it hurts my soul <33 

warnings (bc it needs them today): MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. semi-pubic foreplay, fingering, threesome, oral (m&f rec), vibrator usage, double penetration, overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names, swearing, spanking, spitting, choking, unprotected sex (please wrap before you tap especially in situations like this!!), some wholesomeness at the end. i think that’s it? it hasn’t been proofread so apologies for any mistakes. it’s an extremely long one, i’m sorry.

this is basically pwp so read at your own discretion. 18+ ONLY. 

“c’mon, tell him.”

mason’s eyes gazed at you over the rim of his beer glass from across the table, a smirk hanging loosely on his lips. your heels were already rubbing up against the material of his jeans, and had been ever since you sat down, skin soft against the denim. he was spurring you on, and you knew it, itching for the words to leave your lips until you had the pretty pink blush painted across your cheeks.

“tell me what?”

ben’s voice rang out and cut the tension between you and your boyfriend, only for a minute, before you turned your attention to the other brunette, sat comfortably on the side of both of you, his silhouette glistening in the light of the eiffel tower. “am i missing something?”

you were grateful that mason had brought you along to paris with the squad, only for a long weekend because tuchel thought it would do them some good to get away and clear their heads. ben was one of the only members who didn’t have a partner to bring, and so rather selfishly you snatched him up to be with you and mason.

your boyfriend could see it, plastered all over your face -- the way your eyes softened when ben was around, the way you mutually flirted -- and instead of being angry, he found it attractive. you’d always been open about how mason was no matter what, the love of your life until the day you died, but you’d also been open about how you had a school girl crush on ben that never left, and he couldn’t blame you.

mason tapped the rim of his glass with his finger, and you tapped your acrylics against the side of your champagne glass, the alcohol buzzing through your veins, and you watched as your boyfriend turned to his best friend with the loose smirk still hung on his lips.

“my girlfriend fancies you.” 

you watched as ben’s face dropped, and you grabbed his wrist in your hand, his skin warm against your cold fingertips. mason chuckled lowly and braced a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “don’t worry. it’s fine, i haven’t got a problem with it,” he leaned into ben’s ear closer, so you struggled to read his lips in the candlelight. ben’s eyes flickered over your body at the same time mason’s did, both boys smirking now, and your breath hitched as you cocked your neck to the side.

“i’m the one missing something now, aren’t i?”

“not at all, sweetheart,” mason shrugged, “i was just telling him how you want both of us to fuck you.”

“mason!” your eyes blew wide and your cheeks felt hot to the touch, and for a moment you couldn’t breathe. your boyfriend chuckled and grabbed ahold of your hand over the table, leaning closer to you. 

“am i wrong, darling?” 

him being so open in public was something you’d never seen before, but the busy rooftop restaraunt made it easier for him to be so truthful. he swirled circles on your hand as he waved the waiter over, asking for the bill and chuckling at the pink tint on your cheeks as you sat back on your seat, keeping your mouth.

ben’s hand rested on your thigh experimentally, and he felt the heat radiating off of your body and when you opened your legs further, he smirked to himself and carried on. your foot ran higher up your boyfriends leg, and the fingers that swirled circles on your hand now dragged carefully along your inner wrist, sending shivers up your spine.

mason’s fingers continued to tickle you gently and ben continued to push his hand higher up your leg, inching closer to the place you needed him most while the boys split the bill. they admired you mutually as you sat there in an expensive silk mini-dress, sipping expensive champagne. ben’s thumb brushed your clit over your lace thong, and you jolted forwards, mason’s lust-filled eyes scouring the scene unfolding. 

“car’s downstairs waiting, sweetheart. i’m sure ben won’t mind getting you off in there instead.” 

when the car doors closed, mason’s lips were on yours, tongue’s fighting for dominance as you practically sat on ben’s lap, the feeling of erections pressed against either side of your body was enough to send you into overdrive. you moaned into mason’s mouth, earning a tut and a pull away from him. in your peripheral vision, ben looked at mason for confirmation that this was actually happening and that it was perfectly fine, before he spun you around swiftly and kissed you. it was hot, softer than mason’s but just as intense, a hand in your hair as his tongue swirled yours. mason’s lips attached to your neck, sucking a deep bruise into the skin as you kissed his best friend, his dick throbbing in his jeans beside you.

ben’s fingers found your clit again, and you moaned into his mouth, riding his fingers as mason coaxed you with words and hands on your boobs. you couldn’t help but feel cruel, mason was right next to you yet you were so caught up in ben that you didn’t show him much attention, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

your hips became sloppy and couldn’t find a solid rhythm, which solidified that you were nearing your orgasm, and both boys noticed. your lips were still on ben’s, breathing heavily into his mouth as mason’s hand had now given up groping you, and was now palming himself through his jeans. “gonna cum for me, y/n?” ben asked, but all you could do was nod and pant, leaving a bruising grip on his shoulders as you threw your head back and whimpered. he felt your wetness along the pads of his fingers as you came down, and leaned across to kiss your boyfriend. 

the engine stopped and after composing yourselves, you and mason stepped out first. ben oogled at your breasts as you bent down through the open door, “see you up there?”

he nodded, and with a wink, you and mason ran giddily into the hotel lobby.

*

when ben knocked at the door you were relieved, the ache between your legs was growing desperate, and so you’d locked yourself in the bathroom to fight the temptation. mason was pacing in the room, fighting the urge to fuck you the second you walked through the door. 

the hot pink set you walked out in almost made their jaws hit the floor, and for a minute you had all the power in the room. you weren’t sure who to go to first, and so let them come to you - mason immediately threw you over his shoulder and you landed on the bed with a soft thud, aching to feel him and ben inside of you.

on your knees, you pulled ben’s shirt over his head followed by mason’s and kissed both of them fervently, before unbuckling both of their belts at the same time. ben inhaled deeply when you didn’t even bother pushing their jeans down to feel them through the material of their boxers. 

“she’s being a little fucking tease,” mason grunted, his eyebrows knitted together in annoyance despite the tone of his voice. his hand wrapped around your throat, and his free hand tapped your cheek. you opened your mouth and watched as his spittle landed on your tongue, and you showed it off proudly as it sat on your tastebuds. 

“make sure she doesn’t get ahead of herself.” 

ben repeated mason’s action and waited a few moments before he nodded, both of them eagle eyed as you swallowed. “is she always so obedient like this?” he asked, his hand still wrapped around your throat, and when he squeezed it you whimpered. mason chuckled. 

“she’s just doing it so she gets what she wants,” he kissed your lips softly and leaned around you to unclasp your bra, “aren’t you, kitten?” 

“she’s eager,” ben noted, making a noise of approval. he gripped your cheeks in his hands, “but then i suppose you won’t have much time to talk when my dick’s down your throat, will you, angel?”

you thought you were going to hit cloud nine when both of them wrapped their lips around a nipple, fighting the urge to moan too loudly, knowing that some of their teammates were only the other side of the wall and you had a lot to get through. your hands tugged at their hair, and mason pulled off of your nipple with a pop, “do you want to suck him off?” 

you nodded, and mason chuckled, helping you get onto all fours. ben came round the front of you, his dick springing up to his belly button, but before you did anything else you gripped his wrist. “orange,” you breathed, ben’s eyebrows knitted, “o-our safe word, it’s orange.”

“orange.” ben repeated. 

mason lay on his back underneath you and ben watched as you sunk down onto his face, a cry leaving your lips almost immediately and when he heard the sound, ben realised he couldn’t last any longer. you were face to face with the head of his cock and gently wrapped your lips around him. your tongue swirled around him and when he felt comfortable enough, he pushed himself further down your tongue. “fuck, y/n, you look so good like this,” his words were choppy and came out staccato as he pushed further down your throat until you gagged. mason’s tongue licked and sucked at your clit and you rocked your hips slowly, his hands gripping your thighs for leverage. 

you grabbed ahold of ben’s thigh with one hand, bobbing your head back and forth until he groaned out and twitched inside your mouth, his head thrown back as you figured it wouldn’t be too much longer before he came. mason’s tongue pushed into your hole, and he pressed his thumb against your clit and you cried out, lifting your hips in shock for a moment. 

“let me know if this gets too much, yeah?” ben placed his hand at the back of your head and waited for you to nod before he started thrusting into your open mouth, spit trickling down your face and spurting all over his crotch. mason moaned from underneath you and you knew he was jacking himself off, so you placed your fingers in his hair as an apology for not being able to help. 

“fuck, fuck, y/n, ‘m gonna cum-” your throat contracted around ben’s dick and you felt him begin to throb around you. he gave you a moments warning before he shot his load down your throat, the warm liquid trickling down your tongue. he pushed the hair from your face and kissed your forehead. you moaned when mason’s fingers entered your pussy, and he pushed you up so he could speak. 

“fancy coming to help me eat her out?” 

you shifted so you were now on your back with your legs spread wide, and when both of their tongues pleasured you while mason’s fingers dipped inside you, you arched your back and prayed to every god you could remember that you never forgot this night. mason hummed against your clit, while ben sloppily swirled his tongue around your folds and you moaned loudly and desperately, unable to hold it in. 

“fuck, fuck - ‘m gonna-” 

before you could finish your sentence, your second orgasm washed over you, and you struggled to cope when mason’s fingers didn’t stop, and ben replaced his tongue with his fingers, swiping them left to right until you screamed out and came again, their names falling from your lips like a mantra. 

you panted harshly, pushing them off for a minute so you could regain composure. ben checked you were okay and mason handed you a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. 

“please can ben fuck me,” you croaked after a few minutes, “wanna cum over his cock.” 

“yes,” ben blurted out, and mason laughed. 

“alright darling,” mason kissed the corner of your lips and tucked some hair behind your ear, a stark contrast to the man he was being. “are you going to be okay when i fuck you afterwards?”

you nodded, and got back into your previous position on all fours, with mason sitting in front of you with his legs spread wide enough for you to slot between them, while ben lined himself up with you. he buried himself inside you, and both of you moaned loudly, your moan muffled by mason’s dick in your mouth. 

“fuck, y/n, you’re so tight for me,” ben grunted as his fingers dug into your hips, keeping you steady underneath him. mason’s hand gathered your hair and pushed your head down his cock while you gargled incoherently as ben angled himself perfectly inside your pussy. 

“i bet you’re loving this, aren’t you kitten?” mason cooed, leaning down slightly. you whimpered and your eyes met his as you spluttered around him. “with daddies cock in your mouth and ben’s cock in your pussy.” 

ben’s hand planted itself on your bum, and you lurched forward, pushing mason’s dick further down your throat which made him moan profanities. “fuck, do that again,” he pushed you back into ben, so the lurches forward could continue, and mason nearly died and went to heaven when you took the entirety of his dick down your throat and rested your nose on his pubic bone. 

ben’s free hand found your clit and he swirled two fingers around the sensitive bud, and you fisted the sheet beside you. ben smirked, “look at you, sweetheart,” he cooed, “surely you’re not done yet?” 

you pulled off of mason’s dick and shook your head, smearing your spit around with your free hand, which made your boyfriend buck up into it. you bit your lip in an attempt to keep quiet, and mason noticed with an unimpressed look on his face. his hand found your throat from underneath you and you squeaked, pussy clenching around ben’s dick as his fingers circled your clit. 

“ben, i’m gonna - fuck you’re gonna make me - fuck!”

you came around ben’s dick with a cry, and he came after the feeling triggered his own. still moaning, and half encapsulated by your own orgasm, mason pushed your head down onto his cock and you swirled your tongue around him, his warm liquid shooting up into the back of your throat. 

both boys panted and despite you being ready to go for another round, you knew they’d need a few minutes. you rested your head on mason’s thigh and ben pulled out of you, running kisses all along your spine. “are you okay?” he asked, lips lingering on your shoulderblades. all you could do was nod, and waved your hand in the direction of the bedside table, and he knitted his eyebrows. mason chuckled, and reached over to the drawer. 

“she forgot to ask if she could cum,” he pulled out your favourite vibrator, smaller than usual but perfect for travel, “and she made both of us cum in the process, which wasn’t on the cards, was it kitten?” 

you shook your head but out of eagerness you snatched the vibrator from your boyfriend and the two of you switched places. ben’s eyes softened and his dick hardened when he realised what you were about to do, moving around beside mason to watch you. your legs spread wide and you jolted as you switched the vibrator on, moaning loudly and wriggling around the pillows. 

“are we gonna let her cum?” ben asked mason, a raised eyebrow as he watched you writhe around moaning their names, your fifth orgasm creeping up on you fast. mason’s dick twitched when you prolonged the moan of his name and he smirked. 

“nope.” 

you could feel the orgasm building in your stomach, and you cried out to the boys, asking them if you could orgasm, and when you were met with silence, you knew you couldn’t. mason tutted and reluctantly you switched the vibrator and kicked it to the side of the bed. “i want both of you to fuck me,” you panted, sitting up, “at the same time.” 

both boys swore they nearly came then and there when you said those words, and ben called dibs on going in the back door which made both you and mason laugh. you laid back against ben’s stomach, and mason slotted in the space between bens legs. ben hooked your legs under his arms and mason gripped at your knees for leverage. 

“if it gets too much just tell us, okay?” mason asked, a soft look on his features, and when you smiled he kissed your lips. 

you guided ben’s dick into you, and when you’d adjusted, mason pushed himself into your pussy. you cried out, the feeling of both holes being filled almost enough to make you cum on the spot. 

“please start moving,” you begged, already feeling an ache in your legs. mason began thrusting, and he threw his head back in pleasure and sensitivity. ben groaned at how tight you were, and you fought to keep your moans from sounding like screams. “fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cried, bitng down on your finger as you threw your head back into ben’s shoulder, where he pressed hot, wet kisses on your temple. mason was doing the same along your jawline. “you’re giving it to me so good, daddy.” 

mason smirked, a cocky look on his face as he thrusted into you with short and sharp snaps of his hips, drawing out the moment for as long as possible. “which one of us are you aiming that at, kitten?” 

“b-both of you,” you moaned writhing around in ben’s arms as mason made a noise of approval, the thought of you calling both him and bn by your favoured pet-name almost too much for him to handle. they began to sync their thrusts, leaving you practically heaving for breath at the feeling, and when mason and ben began talking, you zoned out, too focussed on their dicks inside you to care.

with both of them still buried inside you, ben rolled to the side so it gave both boys equal opportunities to fuck you as best they could. mason began drilling into you, which left you crying out profanites you knew the rest of the hotel floor could hear, and ben used your leg for leverage when he began thrusting harder. 

you wrapped your arms around mason’s shoulders, lips inches from his lips and you knew it wouldn’t be long before all of you were hitting the brink. “you’re so fuckin’ sexy,” mason grunted, lips dragging your jawline, “being fucked by both of us, i bet you love it, don’t you?” 

you whimpered, and ben’s free hand snaked its way around your neck, applying pressure. “mason asked you a question, sweetheart,” he squeezed with every thrust, “you’re not just going to ignore him, are you?” 

the feeling was almost too much, although you managed to shake your head and croak out a response, clenching around mason as disorientation took over you for a minute. he pushed the hair from your face and kissed your cheeks, sweat lining his forehead as he pushed closer. 

“are you gonna cum for us, y/n?” 

ben’s voice cracked with anticipation, and when you turned to face him slightly you could see that he was starting to hold off his orgasm, wanting to wait for you before he let himself go. you nodded, being greeted by the familiar feeling of his hand around your throat once more. 

“p-please can i cum, daddy?” 

you stared up at mason with doe-like eyes, and he groaned, the sight of you triggering the coil to snap inside him. “yes -- fuck, you can cum, kitten,” he replied, his voice cracking now too. 

it didn’t take much longer before your fifth orgasm hit you, after being denied it with the vibrator. you screamed out both names in quick succession as disorientation overwhelmed you once more. ben stilled inside your arse as he came with a mantra of profanities, the feeling still new and confusing to you. mason drilled into you for a little while longer, snatching your leg from ben’s grip as his friend rolled over, limp and exhausted. you rolled onto your back and listened to the wet noises as mason fucked you, both of you moaning the others name. 

you squirted around him, the juices spraying all across the three of you, which ben was shocked at. mason came at the feeling, stilling deep inside you and letting you feel him release. after the sixth orgasm you felt far too overwhelmed, to let him stay inside you for very long, and he sensed it. 

“i can’t believe we just did that,” ben announced while mason pulled out. you rolled over, the sheets damp underneath your stomach but you didn’t care. “thank you, i, uh, well-” 

you cut him off with a kiss, accepting his thanks while mason came out of the bathroom with a flannel. ben traced shapes on your back to distract you from the flannel, wiping you clean as you winced. the two boys cracked up after several minutes of peace, listening to the hustle and bustle of parisian nightlife, and you rolled over, unamused. 

“some of us are trying to sleep, here.”

you felt the bed shift on either side of you, and both boys pulled back the covers to make it easier for you to get underneath them without too much movement. mason got in beside you, and you nuzzled into his arm and relished in his warmth. 

“love you,” you yawned. mason kissed your forehead. 

“love you too, kitten.”

while the two of you were being soppy, ben was rustling around in a hastent attempt to find his clothes, and when he’d put his calvin’s on and leaned over to kiss your temple, you grabbed ahold of his wrist, much like you did earlier in the evening. 

“stay,” you whispered, fidgeting around and peeling your eyes open. he was met with those doe eyes you always pulled out, a soft smile on his face. “please?” 

mason pushed the cover down the bed for him to slide in, which signified that your boyfriend, too, wanted him to stay, and when both pairs of arms wrapped themselves around your body, you swore you’d gone to heaven. 

* 

what a fantastic way to start your monday morning’s... right??

the amount of straight threesome porn i watched in order to write this is a joke... and i’m definitely going to hell now  anyway i hope u guys enjoyed this </33 benjamin chilwell this is for you after that glorious goal on saturday, and mason mount this is for you just because you’re so sexy </33

maybe i’ll start writing for ben now too.... i’ll think about it bff’s <33 

[floral-poisons]

*inspired from new year sale event* headcanons of malleus/vil/rook/azul/leona seeing f/mc getting pushed out of the way and landing on her hand wrong and spraining her wrist

sounds like black friday, oof. or even just christmas shopping near christmas. thanks for requesting!! i know you asked for a fem! reader but looking back at it it does lean more gender neutral so i'm sorry if it doesn't exactly fit your request.

every scenario involves going into the town that resides below nrc. i would imagine the town to look specifically like georgetown, washington d.c.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

he didn’t venture out much in public mostly because why was there a need to? people everywhere were afraid of him and sometimes he just didn’t want to deal with the attention being out would give him.

“hey malleus. do you wanna get this strawberry pie they have down at the bakery?”

that was his incentive to go outside.

you see, the strawberry pie in the town below night raven college was popular among students. they only had a few selection of pies every season. and as many others can attest to, the strawberry pie was the best. he’s had it multiple times.

there were a good amount of students from both nrc and rsa present at the bakery. nonetheless, a lot of people appeared to give you guys the spot in front of them. simply because of malleus just...standing there.

he wouldn’t argue that being so intimidating did have its perks.

malleus managed to get the pie within the crowded bakery that was certainly over capacity and you were ready to walk out when someone shoved you against a wall. you used your hand to brace yourself but felt an immense shock of pain.

after leaving the overcrowded bakery, you were holding your wrist, wincing every now and then.

malleus immediately looked down and grew concerned. "are you okay?"

"i think i sprained my wrist." you see malleus looking in the bakery and glaring at guy in an rsa sweater. "it's okay."

"of course it's those royal sword academy assholes." malleus takes your good wrist and leads you to a bench.

he sits you down before putting his hand above your hurt wrist. in a flash of green, your wrist felt better. "there all done." to finish off your recovery, he presses a gently kiss on your wrist.

"wow. your magic really is amazing."

"it's a simple spell." he looks over at the strawberry pie. "now let's go back and eat it shall we?"

VIL SCHOENHEIT

"(y/n)! get up! we're going shopping! going out would be good for you!"

you didn't expect vil to drag you out of bed to go to the cosmetics store that was available in the town below nrc. but also this was vil you were talking about. "why are you bringing me along? shouldn't you bring rook?" you yawned.

"you told me you wanted to learn how to start taking better care of your skin. i'm going to give you products i know will work for your skin type. plus there's a new serum that's been released called queen's gold. i heard it's really good and i'm going to buy it." he looks back at you. despite it being early in the morning, he was all dressed and dolled up.

it seemed everyone from pomefiore was in the store too, trying to get what vil desired. but oddly enough, he didn't go straight for it.

he made sure he grabbed everything that you could use first and paid for it before making his way to get that exclusive serum.

what you weren't expecting was to be shoved around and your wrist eventually hitting the edge of a table. it hurt like hell.

"ow. shit."

"hm?" vil looks down at your wrist. "(y/n)! did something happen?"

"nothing much. just got pushed around that's all. i'll be fine, i promise."

vil scoffs. "we'll fix it up when we get back then." he turned around, seeing that all of the queen's gold serum was...gone!

"oh vil. nice to see you here!" a voice chimes. if vil had a drink, he would've choked on it.

"you have to be kidding me." he mutters under your breath as he pulls you closer. "hello neige." his grin is strained.

"do you want one? i got two on accident." neige presents a container.

vil pursed his lips. "i'll just get it online. but thanks for asking."

"oh but it's sold out online too. i insist!"

vil could feel his eye beginning to twitch. "no. it's okay. let's go (y/n)." immediately, he drags you out with the bag of products he bought for you.

"ugh. i can't stand him."

"i know. but he was just trying to be nice to you." vil's sour expression caused you to go quiet. you wouldn't push it.

ROOK HUNT

there was a knock on the door and you opened it. you were planning on patching up ramshackle and making it more livable for the rest of the day. only to find the vice prefect of pomefiore. "rook what are you doing here?"

"i was thinking i could take you out shopping. you have been busy with fixing ramshackle. you deserve a break." he smiles. "shopping and a visit to the local café perhaps."

"that sounds good. just," you glanced at your outfit, stained with glue and paint. "actually fuck it. i couldn't care less." you made sure to bring your wallet with you before leaving.

of course all the fashion boutiques present were expensive. most of the students at rsa and nrc were rich. might as well suck out as much money as possible.

rook took you to one of the best boutiques in the town. you were partial to a combination of black and white clothes. color wasn't exactly your thing. so you immediately tried to gun for a white poet's shirt, something you've wanted to wear since you've come.

though it turns out someone else was your size, immediately shoving you into the wall. "ow! geez i didn't know there was a demand for white poet shirts." you rubbed your wrist. "crap."

"what's wrong?" rook asks, walking over.

"think i sprained my wrist." you glanced over at the student buying the shirt you wanted, scoffing. "all the other sizes are too big for me."

rook sighs. "no manners i swear!" he glanced over at another poet's shirt. this time it was a deep emerald green and made of silk. "we're better than them. we won't start a fight." he handed you the shirt. "go try it on." the blond was quick to user you into the dressing room.

"are you sure about this?" you ask nervously, changing.

"positive! you said you wanted a poet's shirt a while ago. so we're getting one. the only difference is that this one has color."

you emerged from the dressing room. "oh you look amazing! green really is your color." rook complimented.

"really?" you looked in the mirror. "well, it does look very good."

"you should get it." rook smiles. "i'll pay for it. and then we should get your wrist wrapped."

"that sounds like a plan."

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

"oi! leona!" you were looming over him as he was taking a nap. "leona!"

"what?" he opened one eye.

"i was hoping you could come with me to get some new plants."

"you're obsessed with growing stuff." he closed his eye again.

"please leona. besides ruggie says you should get out in the town more."

the man sighed as he opened his eyes. "fine. i'll go with you. but you owe me."

"okay! thanks leona!"

the man begrudgingly got up and walked with you into town. he didn't understand why you were so into gardening. the inference from him was that you really did like gardening back in your homeworld.

the basic truth was you were just fascinated with the variety of plants here in twisted wonderland.

"oh! i heard these seeds are very rare!" you pointed to the box. "and that's the last one! i should get it!" as you were walking over, a student in a white sweater pushed you aside. "ow!" picking up your wrist, you looked at it, pushing around.

"are you okay?" leona asks but he didn't even wait for an answer. "of course it's one of those pompous rsa bastards. ironic that they have no regards for manner."

the taller man walked over to the student and you didn't hear what he said but he came back with the seeds. "here you go." he had a sheepish look on his face.

"thanks leona." you smile brightly up at him.

"good now let's go pay so we can fix your wrist." he insisted he carry everything you had bought since your wrist wasn't up for the task.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

you were someone who really liked cooking and who also knew when produce was good or not. well, at least back in your homeworld. nevertheless, you were good at developing recipes which resulted in a partnership with azul for the mostro lounge. it was time to develop a new menu.

"hey, come grocery shopping with me." azul crosses his arms. "...please."

"at least you're learning manners." you put a towel down. "let's go then." even though you were covered in flour and oil.

the supermarket wasn't as far as the other stores to buy things from town. azul pushed up his glasses as he pushed the shopping cart while you picked out the produce. "what are you picking out?" azul questions.

"i was thinking something more sweet and simple for dessert. like a refreshing berries and cream. and we do something more heavy like fried chicken." you glance at azul and smirk, seeing his cheeks go slightly pink. "i know how much you like fried food."

"well..." he sighed, grabbing everything you pointed to.

"oh! the last pink dragon fruit! i'm sure we can do something with that- hey!" it seemed someone else was eager to get to, shoving you into the shelf. you braced yourself from impact using your hand. "crap."

"what's wrong?" azul pushes up his glasses as he picks up your wrist. "a little sprained."

"shit."

"well it's not your dominant hand so that's good. but i'll have jade help you in the kitchen." he glances over, picking up a dragon fruit.

"that's yellow."

"is the pink one rare then?"

"yeah. they don't have it often. i wanted to eat it." you scoff.

"well," azul holds up the yellow dragon fruit. "we'll eat this. but you're going to have to tell me how to cut it."

"of course." you rolled your eyes. "i think we got everything."

"good. this month's menu is going to be amazing."

[dragonmuse]

what about Izzy's thought process (or lack thereof) in Sing a New Song when he beats that guy up for Lucius and then is ashamed of his violence, and confused when Lucius is okay with it?

(oooh excellent *rubs hands together*)

Putting himself out there like that had been more frightening than Izzy would care to admit. He'd almost backed out, but the sure knowledge that Jim would never let him live it down had pushed him out there. He'd survived it by just concentrating on Lucius, an audience of one.

And then he'd gotten to stumble off stage right into such a rough embrace that it would climb the charts of the greatest hits that played in his head during his lonelier moments. Lucius was so rarely out of control, definitely never that vicious in public. It had sunk Izzy down to the depths almost immediately and he went to collect his bag in a dazed state.

Vaguely, he thought someone tell him something, maybe pat him on the back, but it was lost in the buzz and the direction. He made it outside just in time to catch the guy pushing Lucius up against the wall.

Izzy dropped his bag.

In the end days of his time with Eddy, then with Jackie, he had forgotten how to reach this place. The violence had become something he did mechanically. A well greased machine going through the motions.

But it hadn't always been like that. Once it had been more personal. Once it had been about adrenaline and hate. Once it had been the beast. And just now, the beast in him woke up and growled.

There was no finesse to it, not that there was the need. This guy had muscles for show. To push people around. He took the first punch badly, staggering back and that's the only weakness Izzy needed. There was nothing, but the target. Nothing, but death on his mind.

"Iz, enough!"

He stopped dead. The adrenaline still pulsed through him and he wanted to...fuck he didn't even know. He didn't actually want to kill this dumb piece of shit. But maybe keep hitting him for a little. But Lucius had said stop. Lucius didn't want him to do it. He flexed his hands uselessly.

Someone gasped and that broke his concentration. He looked up and found half of the Revenge staff staring at him. They were all in various states of surprise and probably repulsion. Jesus, these soft motherfuckers hired other people to do this so they wouldn't have to see. They didn't hurt people. Didn't know from it.

He found Lucius' eyes. This is what I am, he tried to say. Not whatever you just saw on stage. This is my stage and this is what I do. All the civility you've shellacked over me can't hide it.

Lucius walked carefully forward, stepping over the man on the ground like he was so much garbage. Was this how it ended? After he'd just made such a ridiculous display of himself? After nearly four years? This was what had exposed him?

Then Lucius' fingers closed around his wrist so hard that the leather bit into his skin. His lips grazed Izzy's ear. Izzy tried to brace himself for anything Lucius might say.

“You’re going to take me back to wherever you’ve pitched your tent and we’re doing exactly what you begged me for.” 

Fear drained away in an instant and it was replaced with a lust so sharp he could taste it in the back of his throat. So fast that he didn't even fully get what Lucius was implying.

“What I-” The song. The fucking song that Oluwande had dug out, presented to him with a cheeky grin and absolutely no way of knowing it was exactly what Izzy had wanted. “But that’s on your red list. I didn’t actually-” 

“Because you’re making me fucking feral, goblin. Are you going to ask questions or are you going to show me where you parked so we can get the hell out of here?” 

He was making Lucius feral? Because Izzy was just about to howl at the fucking moon. He'd been seen, exposed and ripped apart tonight and all Lucius wanted was to give him everything he wanted? He'd ask questions in the morning. Worry about it in the morning. All he wanted right now was the run of a knife against his skin held by a beloved hand.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Stronger Together

"Dreamer!"

Lena's alarm sears across Nia's senses. She registers the danger at the corner of her eye-- a Brevakk ripping off his sleeves to expose the keratinized spurs protruding from his arms. One sweep of his arm and she'll be dead, skewered in a spray of thick quills sharp enough to penetrate her suit and lacerate any organ they could reach. But she's locked in battle with a K'hund attacking from the front, so all she can do is brace for the inevitable impact.

Suddenly, Nia's view of the Brevakk is eclipsed by the shadow of Lena's back.

"NO!"

The force of the thorns' impact knocks Lena fron her feet, slamming into Nia and causing them both to go down with a cry. Lena's gauntlet fires once, stunning the Brevakk with a glancing blow. Nia throws her own arm out towards her opponent in a desperate bid to gain some ground. The blast of dream energy sends him flying, and when Nia doesn't notice that he doesn't rise again. Her attention is locked on Lena, and the half dozen quills that have found a home in her chest.

"Lena, Lena, oh my god." Nia's hands shake as she climbs out from under Lena and kneels beside her on the pavement. "No, no, no..."

Lena's eyes are glassy and dazed. She looks down at the horns, reaching drunkenly towards them only for Nia to pull her hands away.

"Why did you do that?"

Nia's suit wouldn't have helped much, but it was better than Lena's blouse-- a silly silken thing now ripped and torn, digging into the edges of the wounds around the quills. Lena had no protection beside her gauntlet, and still she had jumped between them.

"N-nia..." Lena's voice crackles in her throat. She coughs, and blood spatters across her chin, staining her berry-red lips a color far more sinister.

Nia's heart lurches with panic. Her head whips up in search of Kara, but Supergirl isn't here. She's on the other side of the city with J'onn, fighting further unrest there. Her eyes lock on another figure, black leather instead of blue.

"ALEX!!"

Nia's shriek cuts through the din, and Sentinel's head whips towards her. In an instant, the pistol in her hand shifts into a warhammer, and Alex slams it down on her opponent, all thoughts of mitigating casualties forgotten. She skids to her knees beside Nia, nearly elbowing her out of the way to crouch over Lena.

"Lena? Jesus... Lena! Can you hear me? Look at me, look at me--"

Lena's eyes track to Alex, and Nia chokes on a sob when she sees the fear in them. But Alex only calms.

"Good, you're okay," Alex tells her, stroking Lena's hair once with a gentle hand. "You're going to be okay."

With her free hand, Alex fumbles for the watch on Lena's wrist, flipping open its face and silently pressing the symbol embossed there. She doesn't take her eyes off Lena for a moment, and when the signal is active Alex slides her palm into Lena's, which curls tightly around hers.

"H-hurts--"

Lena's breath begins to quicken, and the corners of her eyes pinch with the onset of pain. The shock is quickly wearing off, leaving nothing to dull the pain. Alex nods, giving Lena's hand a squeeze.

"I know, but it's going to be okay," she promises. "We're going to get you somewhere safe--"

Supergirl touches down at the moment, pavement cracking beneath the force of her panic. "Lena!!"

Kara kneels opposite her sister, taking in the damage with wide eyes. She grips Lena's free hand tightly, even as she looks to Alex for instructions.

"Hospital," Alex says simply, urgency clipping her tone. "Now."

Kara nods, and gently maneuvers Lena into her arms. Lena cries out, the sound sharp in Nia's ears. When Nia blinks, tears dampen the fabric of her mask.

"I'm sorry," Kara murmurs, pressing her nose to the side of Lena's head. "I'm sorry."

"K-kar--" Lena gasps for breath, coughing up more blood. Her back now visible, Nia sees that one of the thorns has penetrated so deeply that it tents the back of Lena's shirt.

"It's okay," Kara echoes the well-meaning lie of her sister. "I've got you."

In a burst of wind, Kara takes off, and Nia sits dazed in her wake. It's long moments before she registers Alex's insistent hands tugging her up.

"It was supposed to be me," Nia intones, flat with shock. "She--"

"I know," Alex cuts her off, not unkindly. She tugs Nia to her feet then shoves her into a run. "But we need to go. Now!"

Together, they make their retreat, leaving the alley and the unconscious aliens behind just as the distant wail of approaching sirens cuts through the air.

---

Nia wastes no time in stripping off her costume and changing back into her civvies. But before she can reach the exit, Alex cuts her off. "You can't go to the hospital."

Surprise jolts through Nia, before its quickly replaced with anger. "Are you insane?"

"Nia--"

"I can't just wait here-- she-- those barbs were meant for me, Alex! She's hurt because of me. I can't not be there!"

"Kara just called."

Time seems to freeze. Nia feels ice pool in her veins as a lump climbs to her throat and lodges there. "No..."

Alex rushes to reassure her. "No! That's not-- no, Lena's still in surgery. But-- the police are there."

Nia's relief that Lena is alive cuts short with confusion. "What? Why?"

"They're there to take Lena into custody."

"They can't do that!"

"She's aided and abetted known vigilantes," Alex explains. "With everything that's been happening lately--"

"It's not right!"

"Lena will be fine. Truly. Kara is going to CatCo to get Andrea to make the arrest as public as possible. Between that and the Luthor reputation, my guess is that they'll question her about our identities and then let her go."

"That's-- that's--" Nia struggles to find words through her growing rage. The helplessness of the past few months, the rising anti-alien sentiments, the crackdown on Supergirl on her friends... it all comes to a head, and Nia can barely breathe.

Alex reaches for Nia's hand. "If you go now, you'll only risk exposing yourself. Lena wouldn't want that."

Nia sucks in a breath, but it comes in a sob. The next thing she knows, Alex's arms are around her and she's crying into her shoulder, huge lurching sobs that feel like the world is quaking around her.

"It's okay," Alex promises.

"It's my fault," Nia gasps. "It's all my fault..."

"Lena's going to be okay."

---

Nia may not be able to go to the hospital, but she can't stay in the Tower either. In the end she goes to CatCo, ready to throw her weight behind Kara's pitch to fry the police in the press. Luckily, Andrea doesn't need the convincing.

"I want both of you on this," their boss delivers with a coolness sharpened to a razors edge by the glint of rage in her eyes. "William too. I want you to dig up anything you can find about the arresting officers. Any whisper of corruption within the NCPD that you might have been sitting on, now is your time to air it. CatCo won't stand for this."

Nia and Kara both nod solemnly before retreating to their desks. But instead of diverting to her own desk, Kara follows Nia to hers.

"How are you holding up?"

The gentle question threatens a resurgence of tears. Nia looks away, only for her eyes to catch on the photo of her and Lena on her desk, taken at one of their sister nights the year before. Nia can't remember the last time they've hung out, just the two of them.

Blinking furiously, Nia flips the picture down and opens up her laptop. "Fine."

"It's okay to not be fine..."

"Do you want to know if I'm angry that my friend is alone in the hospital because of me? Fine! I'm angry!"

Kara's features soften. "Nia..."

"It's my fault she's there in the first place!" Nia hisses. The lump returns to her throat, and her eyes burn with unshed tears. "She just, just... she just jumped between us! I should've--"

"Hey." Kara calms her with a hand on her shoulder. Nia sucks in a breath, then another, trying to steady herself. Finally, Kara's features pinch into a bemused smile. "You know Lena... There's no line she won't cross, for the people she cares about."

Instead of comforting her, Kara's words only makes Nia grit her teeth. She turns back to the computer. They better be willing to do the same for her.

"Let's get to work."

----

The first article runs the following morning, skewering the police department for rampant anti-alien abuses while highlighting Lena's charity and outreach. While it's not quite enough to banish the police presence from the hospital, it does get a single visitor in to see Lena. Nia expects Kara to take it, but to her surprise Kara simply nods her towards the door.

"Go," Kara says softly. "Give her our love."

Nia doesn't stop to ask twice. She's ushered into Lena's hospital room by a kindly looking nurse, glaring at the officer posted outside the door on her way in. The second her eyes land on Lena, rage swells in her chest at the side of the handcuffs tethering Lena to the bed.

"Is that really necessary?" she demands, balling her hands into fists. "Where is she going to go?"

"Nia..." Lena's soft voice from the bed interrupts her before she can gather much steam. "It's okay."

Nia huffs, eyeing the way the officer slowly moves his hand from his sidearm when Nia turns back to the room. But then all she can see is Lena, hair limp and torso bulky with bandages under her hospital gown.

"It's not okay," Nia says, sitting in the chair thats been placed next to Lena's bed.

"It's just a misunderstanding," Lena insists, her gaze sliding towards the door. The door itself remains open, denying them any sense of privacy. But Lena doesn't seem to mind when her gaze returns to Nia. "You okay?"

Nia chokes on her own tongue. "Am I--? Lena, you're in the hospital..."

"And I'm okay." Lifting her cuffed wrist, Lena silently reaches for Nia's hand, which Nia offers without hesitation. "Promise."

All of a sudden, the tears come back, pressing against her eyelids as she squeezes her eyes shut. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry--"

"It's okay," Lena assures her. "I'm okay."

"You shouldn't have--"

"Been there in the alley? When that guy tried to mug me?" Lena asks pointedly. Clearly, she's already established her cover story. "You're right, I should have known better." She pitches her voice loud enough to carry to the door. "I'm just lucky Sentinel and Dreamer were there to help me."

They wait a moment to listen for a response, but when none comes, they devolve into a fit of giggles.

"Ow," Lena grimaces with a cough. "No laughing for a while."

Nia tightens her grip on Lena's hand. "I... Lena, I'm so sorry--"

"I'd do it again," Lena returns, softly this time. Her words are for Nia alone. "That's what friends do."

---

Alex turns out to be right. As soon as Lena is well enough to leave the hospital, she's taken to the precinct for interrogation, but between CatCo's articles stirring up enough local support that a crowd forms around the precinct to protest the arrest, and the kind of lawyers a Luthor can acquire even after abandoning the family legacy, Lena is released without charge in a matter of hours.

Nia stays at the Tower hoping to see her, but Lena doesn't come.

"She's guessed she's probably being watched," Alex tells her. "She'll being laying low for a while til the heat dies down. All the better, honestly. It'll give her time to heal."

Nia swallows thickly. "Where is she?"

"Home. Kara's with her, but I'm sure she'd love to see you."

Nia approaches Lena's condo without much of a plan. She's armed with snacks and movies, but she knows that having Kara there won't give Nia the time with Lena she needs. She misses Lena, all more the more since she realized how long it had been since they'd just been... friends. More than allies, more than teammates, just... friends.

It feels like Maeve all over again.

But she swallows her nerves and takes the elevator up. Kara opens the door just as Nia lifts her hand to knock.

"Hey," Kara says quietly. She steps aside to let Nia in, and though she can hear the tv from the next room, they linger in the foyer.

"Is everything okay?" Kara asks.

Nia nods. "Yeah. Um. I just--"

She doesn't have an explanation either. Nia stares at her feet, until Kara breaks the silence.

"Look, I have a favor to ask..."

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind staying with Lena for a few hours?"

When Nia looks up, she finds Kara scrubbing the back of her head with one hand, looking sheepish.

"Yeah," she continues, "I've been kind of... hovering? And I think it's getting on her nerves a little. So I figured I could get some stuff done at CatCo--"

"Yes," Nia blurts. "Yes, of course. I'll stay."

Kara grins. "Thanks. She's in the living room now, if you want to..."

"Right. Yeah, I've got this. Go."

Kara thanks her with another smile that makes her whole face shine. "Call if you need anything."

She slips out the door with a wink, and locks it behind her. Nia walks to the living room on wooden legs, and finds Lena laying on the couch against a pile of pillows, propping her up to take the pressure off her wounds.

She looks up when Nia enters, and though her eyes are tired, her features crease into a smile. "Hey..."

"Hey."

Lena struggles to sit up, prompting Nia to close the distance swiftly. "No, no, no, stay comfy."

Relenting with a sigh, Lena groans. "Not like I have much choice these days."

"It'll get better."

Silence follows. Nia stands awkwardly, hands gripping her bag of candy tightly until Lena regards it with curiosity.

"What's all this?"

Nia starts. "Oh. Uhm... I thought-- well, I was wondering..." She trails off, shoulders slumping. "It's been a while since we've had sister's night."

When Lena doesn't answer, Nia risks a glance up to find Lena blinking in astonishment, before her features soften to warmth. She smiles.

"Well, there's no time like the present."

Lena lifts her arms, making playful grabby motions with her hands.

"What'd you bring me?"

----

Hours later, Kara returns home to find Nia seated on the couch with Lena's legs across her lap. It's as close to cuddling as Lena can get, with her injuries, and the way Nia's hands are spread over Lena's shins tells Kara that the contacr was very much needed.

Lena sleeps peacefully, the tv low in the background. Nia looks up at Kara from the shadows, the light reflecting in the tear tracks painted on her cheeks. Without a word, Kara slips in next to Nia, working her way under Lena's ankles to wrap one arm around the younger girl's shoulders.

Nia hugs her back, shaking quietly with the effort to keep her crying silent.

"It's okay," Kara whispers. Nia nods against her. So long as they were all together, they could get through anything.

"We're going to be okay."

[wonderwomanfantasy]

Kinktober day 4: Public sex

Atsumu x reader

warnings: voyeurism, smut, public sex, cum fixation, dirty talk

word count: 1,000 (about)

summary: you've always known that Atsumu would fuck you anywhere, but it's nice to have evidence that's the case.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this!” you yelled. Atsumu just smiled like he didn’t hear you. With the loud music booming from every direction, he probably didn’t. Clubs weren’t exactly the best places to have deep and meaningful conversations. Atsumu dragged you out to dance parties like this one at least a few times a month. It was a good excuse to let loose and act like kids again, you didn’t dislike parties, it was just this time you were on edge.

Before you had left the house for the night. Atsumu had stopped you and convinced you to leave your panties behind. Atsumu wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close. “You look so hot babe,” he said, then kissed you. Atsumu didn’t much care that there were other people surrounding the two of you He slipped his tongue into your mouth sloppily kissing you. His hand slipped down the small of your back before grabbing your ass.

“Someone is going to see,” you whined. Although if you were being honest, you wanted nothing more than for Atsumu to pin you against the wall and fuck you regardless of who could see.

“I wanna fuck you so bad baby,” he moaned, he tugged you closer to his body and rocked his hips against your leg letting you feel his hard cock.

“We’ve been here for ten minutes!” you shouted. he smiled sheepishly before kissing your neck.

“Not my fault yer so sexy,” he moaned.

“I just can’t help but think about how I can just lift your little skirt and your cunt will be right there,” he whispered. Tsumu pushed his hand between your legs, he squeezed your thigh just below your cunt making you shudder.

“Someone really will see,” you whispered.

“Does that mean you want me to stop?” he asked you shook your head. No.

Atsumu touched you gently touching the lips of your pussy before sinking a single finger inside of you. You served the room but no one was looking at the two of you. There were plenty of other couples humping each other and making out. But maybe you were the only one getting fingered.

“I wanna eat your cunt,” Atsumu breathed, before you could process what he’d said Atsumu slipped a second finger in you and started circling your clit with his thumb. Your legs trembled and your knees went weak pushing you further down on his fingers.

“Shh baby I gotcha,” he said wrapping his other hand around your waist to keep you stable.

“W-what did you say?” you asked. Atsumu smirked.

“I said I’m going to throw you in the back of my car and eat your pussy until you gush,” he teased biting your neck.

“The bathroom is closer,” you pointed out and Atsumu’s eyes glittered. He pulled his fingers out of you and wrapped his clean hand around your wrist pulling you towards the bathroom at the front of the club.

One of the bouncers gave you a side-eye as Atsumu dragged you into the bathroom but didn’t say anything. Atsumu locked the door behind the two of you and pressed you against the locked door kissing you harshly. Atsumu hooked his hands under your skirt and hiked your dress up above your hips.

“God I love your fucking pussy,” he moaned pushing your legs apart.

“Then fuck me,” you demanded. Atsumu pulled you away from the wall before folding you over the gross sink of the bathroom before throwing your legs over his shoulders. Atsumu kissed your clit gently before diving his tongue into your cunt. You bit down on your knuckle to keep yourself from moaning, you were sure that everyone outside of the club knew what you were doing in here but you didn’t have to be obnoxious about it.

Atsumu wrapped his arms around your waist keeping you from squirming away from his attacking mouth. He licked long stripes along your cunt, before sucking on your clit harshly, lightly grazing his teeth along the sensitive nub. You let out another muffled cry your legs clamping around his head.

“Common baby, make some noise for me,” he purred before getting up and undoing his belt, the click of the metal buckle as it came undone made your cheeks heat up. It was unfair, no one should be so sexy just taking off a belt. “I wanna hear who’s making you feel so good,”

“I-I can’t, I don’t want people to hear,” you whispered your eyes locked on his cock as he slowly pulled himself out, his cock hard and leaking precum.

“You're killing me, doll face, hurts a man’s pride when his baby talks about other people in the bedroom,” he breathed, running the head of his cock along your folds, teasing you both.

“we’re the only people in the world darling,” he whispered kissing you passionately and slipping his cock inside of you. Leave it to Tsumu to be romantic when he was fucking you over a bathroom sink.

You had to grab the edge of the sink to brace yourself as he started thrusting into you, which meant you didn’t have your hands to gag yourself with.

“You’re so pretty, I love your cunt so much,” he whined loud enough that you were sure anyone who wanted to hear him could have.

“Fuck baby you take me so good,”

“Tsumu,” you moaned back, you tried to keep your voice down but your words still came out cracked and louder than you would have liked. Silence had never been your forte. You had spent so much time in here you were surprised that no one had started banging the door down yet.

“Tsumu I’m going to cum,” you warned, you wrapped your legs around his waist keeping him close.

“Does princess want me to cum inside?” he huffed, “you want to walk out of this club with my cum dripping down your legs?” he asked. You flushed you hadn’t even thought of that. But you couldn’t help but still want it.

“yes,”

[brattata]

Windows

Crossposted from my AO3 account, if it seems familiar. Mature content below, so minors please DNI!

Joseph's been putting a lot of work into your real estate business, and it's really starting to pay off. You wanted to congratulate him by christening his fancy new desk in his fancy new office, but things don't go according to your plan.

Joseph Joestar x AFAB reader (no female pronouns used, but reader wears feminine clothing)

CW: Semi-public sex, exhibitionism/voyeurism, creampie, Joseph says “cunt” one (1) time 

“It’s impressive,” you admit, leaning in for an almost-kiss.

Instead of closing the distance, Joseph grabs your hands and pulls you up from the couch excitedly, leading you over to the far wall. “You haven’t seen the best part yet,” he teases. “Watch this.”

He reaches up to press a subtly disguised switch, and it becomes apparent that the “wall” is actually a massive floor-to-ceiling window, slowly revealed from behind the dark wood paneling.

“Wow,” you whisper, pressing your hand to the cool glass. Beyond it is the Manhattan skyline, breathtaking from 15 stories up. The brightness of the city obscures most of the stars, but the thousands of twinkling lights and glowing windows are beautiful in their own way. There are people behind some of those windows, you think – working late, or maybe enjoying time with their families. Maybe taking in the view with the person they love most, the way you are now.

Joseph hums a kiss into your hair, wrapping his arms around you from behind. His comforting weight against your back and impish smile reflected in the glass make you feel so warm inside, your heart could burst.

Until one of his hands slips beneath your skirt.

“JoJo!” you gasp, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Oh come on, don’t be coy!” he laughs. “The champagne, the perfume…that skirt, with no nylons underneath.” His smirk is undeniably sexy, but that only makes you more annoyed. “You didn’t come here for a tour of the new office.”

“No, I wanted to celebrate with you!” You pause. “In your new chair, or maybe on top of your new desk. But not in front of a window, Joseph!”

“Why not?” he asks, almost sounding genuinely perplexed.

“Someone could see!”

“Who?” he laughs again. “It’s late. No one’s watching. Even if they were, they would be too far away to see our faces.” Now he’s trailing kisses down the back of your neck, shameless as ever in exploiting your weaknesses. “And besides, I think you like an audience.”

“I-JoJo, what-,” you splutter, scandalized and yet burning at his accusation.

“I noticed last summer at Grandma Erina’s,” he replies, letting his lips brush against your nape. “When Smokey walked in on us. You remember, right?”

How could you forget? Even now, the memory has your insides twisting with a complicated emotion you can’t quite place. Like embarrassment but sharper, hotter. Exciting.

“I’d never seen you make that face before. Not to mention the way you held onto me…and well, held onto me.” Joseph pauses from tormenting your neck to flash you a dirty little grin. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”

“O-oh, Joseph, I’m. I don’t know,” you trail off. Immediately his chin comes to rest on top of your head, one arm draped around your shoulders and the other curling soothingly around your waist.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, baby,” he murmurs. “I only want to make you feel good.”

You take a moment, studying your feelings and Joseph’s gentle (but hopeful) expression. Then you unfasten your skirt.

Immediately Joseph lets go of you with a little whoop and a fist pump before tearing into his shirt and tie.

“God, you’re lucky you’re handsome,” you scold him good-naturedly, giggling a bit at his childishness. You kick the skirt away, opting to leave your kitten heels on. Next comes your blouse, which you unbutton slowly for Joseph’s benefit. His shirt is gone, along with his belt. He palms himself lazily over unbuttoned pants, watching your fingers work.

“Don’t forget heroic, a genius, and—“ his bragging is cut short by a low whistle as your bra is revealed, a delicate little number formed of translucent lace. Once you let the blouse fall he can fully appreciate the matching panties, cupping your ass nicely but leaving very little to the imagination. “Baby, you did come dressed to celebrate.”

When you reach back to undo the bra clasp Joseph stops you, lips back on your neck and hands rubbing your shoulders. Instead you tug the cups down until your breasts spill out, earning you a hissed “Niiice” before his hands quickly replace the lace. The contrast is delicious – warm, calloused flesh on one side, smooth and cool metal on the other. Both options have your nipples pebbling almost instantly, Joseph kneading your tits with reverence as if this is a rare treat rather than something he gets to do almost every day.

It is kind of a special occasion.

Before long his right hand drifts down your stomach, slipping deftly into your underwear. You’re so slick he can barely keep a finger on your clit, forcing a whine from you and a low groan from him. “Holy shit, you’re wet! The thought of putting on a show for some strangers gets you this worked up?”

“N-no, I’m excited for you, JoJo,” you coo, hips undulating along with his fingers. “It feels so good when you touch me.”

“Hmm, seems like I barely need to touch you at all,” he replies, back to his smug grin. With little warning he slips one finger inside you, then two, then three. There’s the tiniest sting, but you take them all easily. “See? You’re already ready for me.” It’s hard to argue when his strong, thick fingers are knuckle deep inside you and your pussy is still aching for more. “Since you want it so badly, guess it’s time to stop playing around and have some real fun.” The fingers are gone. “Bend over, baby.”

With a shaky sigh you do as you’re told, bracing your hands against the window and sliding your legs apart. You can’t resist wiggling your hips a little, asking for a playful swat from Joseph’s right hand. His left hand is suddenly gripping your ass, thumb spreading your lower lips open even wider and sweeping the gusset of your panties aside. You hear a zipper and rustling fabric, but instead of his cock, it’s a puff of warm air that caresses your pussy, followed by a firm stroke of his tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” you wail, leaning your forehead against the glass.

“Not until you beg for it, my love,” Joseph chuckles. “I can eat this sweet pussy all night! Make you come until you’re crying for my cock!”

“JoJo!” you moan, desperately. You want to ask what’s gotten into him, but he’s sucking hard on your clit and you can barely hold a thought. He’s always been vocal during sex, but his babbling is usually sweet, not this demanding or…filthy. You love your adorably enthusiastic Joseph, but this version is also thrilling, and it makes you wonder if you’re not the only one excited by imagining eyes on the other side of the window. He’s slurping your pussy so loudly you know it’s deliberate, groaning like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

And for another reason, you realize, when you look at your reflections and see him vigorously stroking his cock. It’s the sight that carries you over the edge: Joseph kneeling with his face buried between your legs, so turned on that he can’t help but touch himself. You come with a strangled squeal, and Joseph gives your clit an affectionate peck as if to say “good job.” He’s gripping the base of his cock so hard it looks painful.

“Fuck me, JoJo,” you gasp. “Please, please fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

You rest for a bit against the window while Joseph stands and adjusts his grip on your hips. Now there are two thumbs spreading you open completely, which you might protest as embarrassing if you weren’t turned on beyond all pretense. You suck in a breath when the head of his cock finally kisses your opening, only for him to stop before taking the plunge.

“Look at that. It’s show time after all.” Blearily, you lift your head to see a silhouette in one of the windows in the office building across from you. Whoever it is has dimmed their lights so you can’t see much other than a vague shape, but it’s easy to imagine a strange pair of eyes staring into yours as Joseph sinks deep with one thrust.

The sudden stretch and the arousal have you coming again, softly this time, an aftershock of the pleasure you got from Joseph’s tongue. He leans his weight against your ass and holds still, luxuriating in the way you ripple around him, like you want him even deeper. “Fuck, this is good! We should’ve done this sooner!”

“Yeah,” you agree dreamily, grinding back against Joseph while you wait for him to move. He pulls back and thrusts hard, making your palms squeak against the glass.

“Maybe-“ he grunts, “maybe we should try it again on Monday morning. I’ll brace you against the doorway of my office, just like this, and we can show everyone that sexy face you’re making. Show them how hard I make you come.”

“But I don’t want them to see,” you murmur back. “Those things, I only want to show them to you, JoJo.”

“S-shit,” he gasps. “Fuck, you’re so hot. So beautiful!” He has a hand around your breast again, lips, tongue, and teeth trailing across your neck and shoulders just the way you like. He presses his face next to yours and gently tilts your chin up, making you look out the window again. “It looks like our new friend agrees.”

Across from you, the silhouette’s arm is moving back and forth. You can’t really see what’s happening, but you know.

“You’re so sexy, you’ve got him jerking off in the middle of his office,” Joseph laughs breathily. He slips two fingers between your parted lips, stroking your tongue in time with his thrusts. “Who could blame him? Watching those gorgeous tits bouncing above that pretty lace. Imagining his cock is the one pounding out your hot little cunt.”

You stiffen up a bit at the vulgarity and Joseph kisses your temple, asking with his eyes if what he said was okay. “Yes, yes, fuck,” you moan around his fingers, bracing against the glass to shove yourself into his cock, demanding deeper, harder, more. Joseph tilts his head to kiss you hungrily. His wet fingers go straight to your clit where they rub and pinch until you’re whimpering into his mouth, near tears.

“He can’t even hear how wet you are,” Joseph continues. “So wet you’re dripping all over the nice new carpet.”

You laugh a little at that. “As if you’re not desperate to make an even bigger mess, JoJo,” you tease back, lips touching as you pant into each other’s mouths. “Will you clean me up, baby? After you make a mess of me?”

“Fuck yes,” Joseph groans. “I’ll do anything, anything!”

“Come for me. Come inside me. I need it so badly, JoJo.” Whether it’s a plea or a command, Joseph can’t help but obey. He presses his face between your shoulder blades and one lightly Hamon-charged fingertip to your clit, and you’re thrown off the cliff of a breathless, whiteout orgasm. It feels like every muscle in your body is clenching for Joseph’s cock. He’s scorching hot and huge inside you as he fills you up, and you wring him for every last drop. He slowly pulls out and helps you right yourself, turning your back to the window as he leans down for a kiss.

“That was amazing. I love you.” Before you can return the words he’s already sinking to his knees, nudging your legs apart so he can fit between them.

“Joseph, I’m tired,” you demur, stroking his sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

“But I still need to clean up,” he insists. When he grins at you like that, you can’t say no. “I’ll go slow, baby, I promise.”

He starts with your inner thighs, looking very pleased with himself when he gets a few giggles out of you from the ticklish sensation. When his mouth finally reaches your center it is slow and soothing. He’s not trying to force another orgasm from you – just enjoying you, caring for you, showing his love. You don’t come by the time he’s finished, but you don’t need to. You just want him to hold you, so he does.

When you reach the couch he plops down on it, keeping you cradled in his lap. He takes off both of your shoes and stretches out on his back (as much as he can), draping you across his front. He’s warm, and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, and even though you know you’re going to be ungodly sore tomorrow, right now everything feels perfect.

“Thank you,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest.

“Anytime, baby,” he chuckles warmly. He smiles up at you, looking happy but not as content as you feel.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, a little worried. “It was good for you, wasn't it? Not…weird?”

“Of course, it was great for me! Don’t look at me like that!” He reaches for your cheek, rubbing at the corner of your frown. “I was just, ah,” he clears his throat, adjusting your position so that you’re more beside him than on top of him. On the way down, your leg brushes what is unmistakably a semi-erection already straining against his briefs. “I was just thinking about what you said earlier, about ‘celebrating’ on my desk.”

“Absolutely not,” you groan, nuzzling against his shoulder, eyes already closed.

“Your next line is: ‘Maybe tomorrow, JoJo!’”

“Nice try.”

[keilemlucent]

while your currently drunk you can think about what it would be like to go clubbing with keigo. His possessive nature would def jump out wanting to keep you close at all times. you’d rock against his body as he holds you close keeping a keen eye but also enjoying the way your body sways over him. if he’s also inebriated who’s to say he won’t press you against the nearest wall rubbing himself against you and whispering in your ear how he could take you right here and now 🥰🥰 just a lil something 

i am seeing this sober (and with my hangover cured lmao) BUT lemme tell u... the clubbing keigo brainrot is oh so 😩💕

(nsfw)

warnings: dubcon, a little yandere keigo, alcohol, drunk reader, drunk keigo, public sex, dacryphilia

...

Keigo is particularly possessive. Not necessarily in a way that is a cause for alarm, but more so something of note.

You've come to expect the way he hovers close to you in public. How he always wants to have his hands on you, whether that be the firm press of his palm on your lower back, or a tight grip on your waist with his chin hooked over your should. Really, any way he can, he stakes his claim.

It's a little more overt and shameless when the environment allows it to be.

Occasionally, there are small clubbing events for heroes and their company to unwind. Usually open bar. Frequently messy. But cell phones are confiscated at the door, so it's more than welcomed. Heroes really never get a chance to be, so why not be sloppy together?

Keigo loves to take you to them. He loves getting the chance to show you off and let anyone who looks your way that you are his. He curbs the urge in public, sure, but here? It doesn't matter. Here, there's hungry eyes that follow your every move, but they wouldn't dare try anything. Keigo doesn't let you out of his sight. Doesn't stop touching you, and he makes sure that anyone who looks sees how fucked you are for him.

After a few drinks, you’re bolder. Your words slur a bit, not enough to make him worry, but just enough for the sway and circling of your hips to be a little freer. You can get a bit bashful around so many pros, but with the stain of liquor on your lips you’re more than happy to dance the night away.

Keigo adores it. Loves that he gets to hold your hips almost to the point of bruising as you giggle and twirl to the club beats. He loves how unrestrained you both get to be, loves how you rock against him, back arching and neck craning to nuzzle of your nose against his jaw. He can’t tell if you’re just being sweet and gracious or quietly asking for more. 

He has subtle restraint, he always does, but with a few shots having burned his throat earlier in the evening... it’s easier to indulge. He guiltlessly drags you back into him, grinding against your ass. You roll your hips back into his, leaning into his wandering touches. He can feel your breath hitch as his hands slip lower and plays with the hem of your dress. 

Keigo wishes he had an ounce of shame (no, he really doesn’t, this is way too good) as he backs you into a darker corner, wings ruffled and raised. He gets a little rougher, pushing you up against the velour-covered wall, chest first. You flatten to it and brace yourself with sweaty palms. Sweet as can be, you flash him wobbly, wanting smile. You grind back into him, spine curved perfectly under the satin of your dress.

He knows people are watching, and honestly? Let them. Let them see how desperate you are. The strobing lights and neon obscure you enough that the details of you will be hidden, but they’ll know. Keigo’s wings ruffle at the thought debauching you in front of the impromptu, wanting crowd.

He lays his body over yours, feathers shuddering in time with his heavy breath. You’re rolling your hips back into his crotch, his cock is hard enough that he’s leaking (who knew the thought of casual ownership got him off this much?)

His lips drag over your neck, teething at the soft juncture of your shoulder. You moan his name, voice cracking with desire that makes him wild. His forearm braces next to yours, and he presses you into the wall, makes you feel the weight of all of him, wings and lean muscle. 

He pulls from your neck with a growl and can’t help but pleased with the fat bruise he left behind.

“I should bruise you a collar of these,” He drips into your ear, teeth tugging at your earlobe. “If fucking you here doesn’t show everyone whose you are, that would get the message across, don’t you think?”

Your breath hitches from under the palm he slips over your lower tummy.

“Please, Kei’.”

He doesn’t know what exact thing you’re begging for, but he’ll give you everything. Anything. He rucks up your dress, and a hand slipping down the front of your panties and teasing along your slit, debating.

If he were at home, he’d take the time to prepare. He prefers to work you open on his fingers and tongue for a good while before fucking you. He doesn’t feel... right fucking you without you cumming once, twice, three times (as many times as you can stand), Under normal circumstances. But these weren’t normal circumstances.

His hold slips from your hip to your jaw, turning your gaze to his and goddammit, if the sight doesn’t take his breath away. Your eyes are glassy, pupils wide and inky, and your lips are parted, perfectly. Wanting and waiting. 

(He briefly debates fucking your throat but decides against it. He’d prefer to lick you clean on the limo ride home.)

Keigo presses his lips to yours, stealing your breath and licking into your mouth. It’s sloppy, he can feel the spit dripping down your chin as he massages your tongue with his. It’s fucking filthy and he loves it. The liquor is just making him ab bit more... honest.

He pulls away to unbutton his pants, untucking his breezy shirt to pull out his cock with a few lazy strokes. The little whine you give has him back on you, covering your body with his and teasing you sex with a single finger over your panties. 

“I’d make you beg,” he muses, softly against your ear again, “But I have a feeling you’re a little too impatient to do so properly.”

You sputter something, whether it’s a denial or affirmation, Keigo doesn’t care. He’s already pulling your panties to the side, and slipping two fingers between your lips, hardly prep at all things considered. 

Keigo spits down onto his dick and calls it good enough.

You rock back into him, shuddering and panting. You’re unabashed in it, ignoring the eyes in the room, all of your attention on him. The thought makes his cock twitch in his hand, and he can’t wait any longer. 

He hikes one of your legs up high and spears into you in one swift motion with a beat of his wings.

Your breath punches from your lungs and your palms smack against wall. You’re already weak in his arms, from the alcohol and Keigo’s thick cock splitting you. Despite the lack of preparation, you’re less tense than you could be. Thank god for vodka. 

All the same, Keigo starts slow. He wants you to hurt when this is over. He wants you to bear his bruises and imprints. You should be limping when he’s done with you. He’ll take care of you at home, patch you up how you both like so much, but for now--

He wants to leave an... impression.

Keigo picks up at his pace, gasping out a breath as he bottoms out, grinding against your ass and insides in a way that has you clenching and slurring out little pleas for more. And god, he’s happy to oblige.

He picks up his tempo, hand slipping tightening around your jaw, tucking your face to his and nipping at your lips. Your claw at the wall in front of you, but all of your leverage is in Keigo’s hands, and he uses it well.

The beat of the of the club music is the perfect tempo, the thump of it mostly disguises the slap of his hips against yours. But even the shadows of the rainbow lights can’t hide how he’s fucking ruining you. You’re hiccupping out cries for ‘more, please Keigo!’ loud enough that a few of his fucking colleagues have inched closer. It makes something in Keigo burn and he quickly goes for your neck again.

And sinks his teeth in hard enough for you to sob. 

It has you clenching around him, and he knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The rhythm has his insides clenching, and he wants nothing more than to fill you up--

The thought of it, of you leaking with him, has white explode around the edges of his vision. 

He spills inside of you, thick and hot and you gasp at the feeling. You fumble for his hand, and Keigo clasps yours easily, squeezing. The cant of his hips goes sloppy, just like the two of you. 

Softened, he slips out of you.  But Keigo is quick to replace his cock with two fingers, plugging you and tsking.

“You didn’t cum, did you, dove?”

You shake your head, still half-crying and needy, “N-no, I d-didn’t.”

“Can you keep yourself upright if I fuck you on my fingers?” Keigo muses, though it’s a genuine question. “Be honest.”

You swallow and rub at your wet, streaky cheeks, “I d-dunno. ‘M really shaky, Kei’.”

He already knows that, but it’s cute that you tell him like he’s not the cause of it.

“It’s a good thing you’ve got me then, isn’t it?” Keigo kisses your cheek, too kind for how filthy you are. “I’ll keep you up, sweetheart.”

You nod, give a little ‘thank you’ that gets broken as he spread his fingers in your cunt. His own cum drips down his wrist and he can't bother to care. He can’t bother to care about anything that isn’t the sweet little whines or the flush that is dusting your cheeks beneath tears and smeared makeup.

He bullies the bundle of nerves inside you without any care other than making you fall apart. Maybe it’s bad, the desire he has to force you to come undone by his hand in front of his peers. You’re his partner, and a bit illusive consider the relative secrecy of your relationship. 

What a goddamn introduction.

He slips another hand around your front and rolls your clit beneath to fingers. Keigo can’t help sucking another bruise into your neck, like the first one wasn’t enough of a statement. 

He speeds up his treatment as you breath gets more ragged, as you repeat his name to the flash of the strobes and lean back into him. You tense around him as you cum, crying out with a thump of your head against the wall. He holds you through it, not slowing or faltering as you shake and sputter.

Carefully, Keigo lets down the leg he’s had pinned. He anticipates how they falter, and already has an arm around your waist to keep you upright. 

“Thank you,” You murmur, your voice gentle and soft. Far too soft for what you’d just done. It’s sweet though, the way you’re pliant for him as he straightens you up.

You’re filthy, thighs covered in a mix of him and you. Keigo’s damp in his own boxer briefs and it’s not exactly... comfortably. And certainly not ideal for dancing.

You turn toward him. Your arms wrap around his neck and god, you’re too cute as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Maybe you’re sobering up, or maybe you’re cock drunk, he isn’t sure. But it’s the same comfort that you need. He smooths a hand up your back, laying kisses over your temples and hair lines.

His colleagues are still watching, maybe more than before, because Hawks has a reputation for being a greedy, impulsive bastard, but what he doesn’t have is any reputation for being sweet. 

The vulnerability of it has him moving his wings to encircle the two of you. A bit of much-needed privacy. 

“How about I call us a ride home?” Flying drunk is never good idea. (He found out the hard way.)

You nod, gripping the front of his shirt, “I don’t think I can’t dance anymore.”

“I imagine you can’t, huh, dovey?” He teases with another peck to your cheek. 

You whine and beat his chest with your fist for a moment without a hint of ire. The night is still relatively young but given the drink in your veins and the cum in your cunt, perhaps it would be best to turn in for the evening.

(Or Keigo could fuck your throat on the ride home. The thought is still appealing.)

You mutter something unintelligible against his neck, and Keigo silently reminds himself to make sure you drink a bottle or two of water before bed. Maybe he can get a snack in your belly before you knock out for the night. 

(Or, maybe, Keigo could have his own ‘snack’ by cleaning your cunt with his tongue as you doze off--)

Keigo purrs with his thoughts as he tucks his wings to his back, ushering you to the exit, all the while feeling the (horny, jealous, surprised) stares of his colleagues at his back. 

[jinkicake]

You Call Him Daddy?!

You accidentally call them daddy in front of the team.

Kageyama Tobio x Reader

Sugawara Koushi x Reader

Tsukishima Kei x Reader

For the anons who requested these characters!! Here you go~~ I combined them and put them on one page, the Karasuno boys. (*・∀-)☆ Pls omg Kageyama and Tsukki are aged up to 18, they’re third years in this. Don’t be gross and think they’re tiny first years, I wouldn’t be able to handle it TT

This is complete and utter filth, I have no idea what possessed me to write this. Please..... read this at your own caution TT SMUT

WC- 2,208

~~~

Kageyama Tobio

Kageyama would pass away on the spot, he would stop functioning

Honestly though, it was his fault he got caught, he was too distracted to even catch his mistake

It was tournament season and you were going to watch some of his games

Sadly though you had to babysit your neighbor’s daughter, who happened to be the child of Aoba’s assistant coach, and with her parent’s permission you brought her to the arena

It was so crowded as you held her to your chest, you frantically looked around for any members of your boyfriend’s team

You couldn’t see where you were going and bumped into a familiar player, their large hands bracing your shoulders and your eyes widen at the turquoise in your vision

“Oh, Kindaichi I’m sorry, are you okay?” You smile politely at your boyfriend’s old teammate, much to Kageyama’s dismay, you actually liked the onion head and Kunimi

“I’m fine, it’s good to see you. Hi Natsumi.” He pats the little girls head and she squeals in delight at the familiar boy

“Where’s daddy, huh?” You coo and lift her up so she can find her father

“Daddy! Daddy!” The little girl calls out to her father and you hand her over to the assistant coach before waving at Kunimi

“(Y/N).” Kageyama calls from behind you, you can’t keep the wide smile off of your face when you see him “What’s wrong?” His concern sends your heart into a frenzy

“Oh, nothing! I’m just letting Natsumi see her dad before we head up to the bleachers, I was looking for you!” You tell him and he flicks your forehead, disappointment heavy in his features

“So you weren’t calling for me?” His flirty tone causes your face to heat up and you thought no one had heard due to the mass amount of people in the hallway

You were wrong…

“Gross.” Kunimi rolls his eyes as he passes his old teammate “That’s nasty, even for you Kageyama.” He tosses his nose high into the air and a bright red Kindaichi follows behind him

You can only gape and blink before clutching your boyfriend’s shoulders and laughing loudly into his chest

Kageyama seriously stopped working, his face turned bright red and he was trying to hide his face behind his thick hair

“Ah you’re so cute Kageyama!” You cup his cheek and smile sweetly, in an effort trying to bring his spirits up after the humiliation he brought on

“You look so cute with kids.” Kageyama praises, his face resting in the crook of your neck as he slowly thrusts into you. You tilt your head back against the pillow at the intensity of each stroke, your back arches into the air and Kageyama smirks before wrapping his lips around your nipple. 

“F-fuck,” You sigh loudly, your voice breaking off into a moan when his teeth bite down on the small nub. Your hands quickly find his hair and roughly pull on the strands, you’re really being worked with each of his thrusts.

“I should fuck a baby into you, shouldn’t I? You would look so nice with my cum spilling out of you, don’t you think?” When Kageyama asks questions he always expects an answer, but right now it’s so hard to give him one. It’s so hard to focus between his pelvis rubbing against your clit and the overall feeling of being so full.

“Yes,” Your word stretches with a whine and you press your lips together to hold back another. “I would like it so much daddy.” Your begs make Kageyama want to pick up the pace but he continues to thrust into you slowly while one of his hands gently slaps your other breast.

“Is that any way to ask, petal?” His eyes are so commanding as he looks at you, almost as if he is testing you to reject his motives. The natural dominance, the need to be in charge, radiating off of him makes you feel so small under him. So protected in his care that you want to give your all to him. 

“Please ruin me, I won’t waste a single drop daddy.” You promise and Kageyama breaks into a wide grin, his hips pick up the pace to fuck you into the sheets.

“That’s it sweet girl, you better keep your words.”

Sugawara Koushi

Listen nobody thinks Sugawara is nasty

But let’s be real, we have all seen him angry! That bitch is crazy!

We call Daichi the ‘dad’ but honestly,,,, Sugawara could make everyone his bitch without lifting a finger

Daddy!Sugawara periodt, that’s all I want to say

After practice one day you agreed to help some of the first years with their Japanese literature class, it went by slow and you mainly just proofread their writing to make sure it was all correct

As you continue to read through Hinata’s paper, your brows furrow together when you try to piece together the word he had written

It doesn’t look like it belongs there and you can’t figure out what it could possibly be

“Umm Hinata what is this word? It looks like you wrote ‘daddy’ but that doesn’t fit there?” You lightly point at the smudged pencil and the small boy squeaks before trying to piece it together himself

“Daddy? Hinata you’re an idiot!” Kageyama insults as he continues to write his own paper

“Daddy? I love that word!” Sugawara pops up from behind you and squats down to kiss your cheek before running back to the court

The two first years look at each other before looking at you, confusion painted on their faces before going back to their work

“Is no one going to say anything about that?” Tsukishima looks around with a mild disgust before shrugging his shoulders and serving to Yamaguchi

“You didn’t mean it like that right Sugawara?” Daichi smiles at his friend, his smile faltering when his friend doesn’t confirm his statement

“No I like being called daddy.” The refreshing setter sends an innocent smile back before grabbing a ball, ignoring the stunned look on his captain's face

“S-Sugawara-“ Asahi starts but can’t find the words to figure out what the hell to say

Kiyoko looks up from her clipboard and sends you an approving nod, hiding her face behind the object just as quickly as she looked up

“Hey! Let’s not be so surprised! We’ve all seen him angry before!” Nishinoya defends, standing tall next to his setter “Good for you Sugawara, daddys for life!” He gives him a slap on the back as praise and you simply watch the entire thing with a deep embarrassment

“Am I really that innocent to them? Do I not look like I would be into freaky shit, should I be offended?” Sugawara continues to ask you, knowing damn well you won’t be able to answer him back with the makeshift gag in your mouth. “Your panties work so well, don’t they angel? You look so utterly delectable.” He pushes the material deeper into your mouth with two fingers before going back to check each of the soft silk ties holding your arms and legs apart. “As if none of them want to be called daddy, and they look at me like I’m the weird one?” He continues to rant, gently running his finger up and down your naked body. “What do you think, sweetheart?”

You try to talk around the soaked material but it only comes out like complete nonsense, Sugawara nods as if he understands it anyway.

“What can I do to show them I’m not the vanilla player they think I am? I’ve already ruined you beyond repair, haven’t I?” He cups your cheek lovingly, his words are added with extra fluff that hold nothing but lies. “Maybe I just need to push your beautiful body further. Would you like that angel?” He continues to ask and you nod frantically. “Ah, of course you would.” Sugawara dips his fingers between your thighs, spreading your folds apart to tap at your clit. Even the small action makes you release a muffled cry.

“Daddy is going to take such good care of you tonight.”

Tsukishima Kei

I don’t know who Tsukishima would throw off a building first, you or himself

It would be just his luck that the first time you call him daddy, someone overhears it and can’t keep their mouth shut

Spoiler alert : said person is Hinata

It’s after school before practice and Tsukishima has you cornered against the wall in an abandoned hallway

One of his long legs rest between your own and his hands are pressed flat on either side of your head

Yes you had been teasing him in class, sending him filthy text messages to the point that you could see the familiar tent rising in his slacks but, did you stop there?

Nope

Seeing him so turned on in such a public setting only made you hotter and the sticky summer humidity wasn’t helping you either

But your boyfriend knows discipline and was able to control himself…. well until the bell rang

Now you’re his for a short time before he has to get to the gym

Two of Tsukishima’s fingers pinch your chin and force you to look up at him, his narrowed eyes glare down at you and it should make you feel nervous

… it doesn’t

The irritation radiating off of him in waves only makes you pout larger, purposely you push your lip out just to spite him

“What was that in there?” Tsukishima spits out in a hushed whisper, heavily referring to the last period when you sent him text after text of all the things you want him to do to you

“It was just a little teasing.” Your words fuel him to grab your wrist and place your hand flush against his crotch, the contact causes your thighs to clench around his leg 

“Little? What about this is little?” He sneered and you could feel yourself going light headed

“I-I’m sorry” Your apology is still not enough for him

“You’re sorry? Who are you apologizing to?”

“You, daddy” The words slip out of your mouth, fumble out so smoothly that you don’t even realize what you said until he stopped moving

At this Tsukishima’s glasses fog over, it’s like he stopped functioning and you fear that you may have broken him

Fuck, you can’t think it had gotten any worse….

It had

“T-Tsukishima practice started five minutes ago…” Hinata calls from around the corner and from where you are, you could have sworn you saw blood trickle out of his nose

“Come on daddy” Kageyama tries to tease but ends up gagging on the last word, covering his mouth to shield his laughter

The two third years walk off while they try to hold back their amusement, unable to look their teammate in the eye

By the looks of it…. You can’t handle looking your boyfriend in the face either

“Fucking brat.” Tsukishima rolls his eyes as you lay on your stomach, your hands tied to the bedpost with your ass high in the air. He continues to glare down at you and as much as you want to look back at him, you know better not to. You feel the bed dip and you nearly moan when his large hands grip at your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart so that he can touch your delicate slit. He flicks your clit and you bite the pillow beneath you. “Good girl.” Tsukishima praises, moving to rub three of his fingers along your soaked entrance, occasionally dipping his fingers to rub along your walls. You nearly whine when he removes his fingers and you can’t stop the moan that slips from your lips when he finally lays a brutal slap against your ass.

“Oh?” You can’t see his face but you know exactly what he looks like. In your head you can see the mild irritation covering his face as he stares down at you amusedly, you know how badly his cock is aching in his shorts at the redness covering your ass. “You like that, don’t you?” He sneers, smacking your behind a few times before going back down to rub your slit. He toys with your clit too much, giving you too much attention that you can’t hold any noises back. “What can I expect from such a dirty girl? Are you going to call me daddy again?”

You can hear him laughing and his words do nothing but make you clench around nothing, you push your ass higher into the air and moan loudly.

“Yes daddy, please.” You beg and nearly faint at how quiet the room gets. You’re almost afraid that you went too far, that he wasn’t ready for this just yet, but all your fears disappear when you feel his nimble length between your lower lips. Tsukishima preps himself in your natural lubricant as he tries not to cum from your words alone.

“Scream for daddy.” He chuckles darkly before entering you in one swift movement, his chest presses against your back and you see his hands on either side of your head. “So fucking tight.” Tsukishima grunts and pauses, trying to ignore how tightly you’re clenching around him. 

“Stop, if I fucking cum you’re cleaning it up.”  

[atinymonster]

connected pinkies

ateez 9th member.

jiyu and jiyong catch up after a while, but little did she know it would spark a huge storm.

can you guess what happens next? D;

➴ taglist: @banhmi07, @jiyeons-closet, @jaeminpeachy, @mochibabycakes, @euphoriamingi

➴ masterlist

"Is that him?” 

At the manager’s question, Jiyu followed his gaze to see a familiar, slender male wearing a black bucket hat and a mask waiting in front of the cafe. Her eyes lit up before nodding enthusiastically. 

Chuckling at her restlessness to meet him, the manager unlocked the car door. “Remember, be careful out there!” he quickly reminded.

Ever since ATEEZ’s popularity started to grow, he’s been aware of the many fans that won’t hesitate to approach or crowd them in public. He’s seen it happen to Jiyu once, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

“I will, thank you for driving me!” she smiled before closing the car door. 

Looking left and right to make sure she wasn’t about to be run over by a car, she dashed across the street towards the man. “Jiyong!”

At the sound of his name, the man looked up from his phone and a huge smile broke out onto his face underneath the mask. Opening his arms, he grunted at the impact when Jiyu crashed into his embrace and hugged him back.

“If it isn’t my lovely little sister,” he smiled, taking off her bucket hat and ruffling her hair. “Look we match today,” he teased, gesturing to their matching bucket hats and masks. 

It’s been a while since the last time Jiyu and Jiyong met, considering how busy the both of them had been. If one had a break from their schedules, the other would be busy, making it difficult for them to meet since the new year started. 

“Have you been watching our Kingdom performances?” Jiyu eagerly asked after they settled in a corner booth of the cafe. 

“Of course! I keep up with all of your schedules, you know,” he proudly puffed his chest. “I didn’t know my little sister was so talented, I thought my bones were going to break after watching you dance each time. And I was the one that felt out of breath, too.”

“What, did you cheer for us too hard that you ran out of breath?” she snorted, sipping on the strawberry latte the waiter had brought over a few minutes prior. “You’re really getting old, if that’s the case.”

“I’m only five years older than you, and one year older than Seonghwa and Hongjoong,” he rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but scoff at his sister’s playfulness. He had to admit, he missed it. 

“You know, I send your performance videos to năinai and yéyé.”

Jiyu tensed at the mention of her grandparents back in Guangzhou. Ever since she left to become a trainee, she hasn’t contacted them since, too afraid to hear what they had to say. She’s always carried around the guilt of taking their son away from the world, hence she thought minimizing her contact with them would be better for both parties.

“What do they say?”  she quietly mumbled, twisting the straw around her drink. Whether it be demeaning comments, she decided to accept them.

Contrary to what she was expecting to hear, Jiyong slid his phone across the table towards her. “Here, you can read them yourself.”

Jiyong wouldn’t have her read hurtful comments, she knew that and she trusted him. But it still sent a wave of nervousness when she hesitantly picked up his phone and started scrolling through the messages.

The latest videos Jiyong had sent them were her fancams of both performances from round three of Kingdom. Taking a deep breath, she scrolled down to see her grandparents’ response, bracing herself in case she read something unpleasant.

But there were no demeaning responses. Only responses praising her talents and cheering her on.

[năinai] Little Jiyu is all grown up now

[yéyé] Gosh, look at her energy! It makes my own bones hurt just watching!

[năinai] I wish she’d call us, but I suppose we made it a little awkward for her...

[năinai] Jiyong dear, if you get the chance to, let her know that she’s free to call us anytime

[yéyé] Just keep the time zone in mind, though ;)

[jiyong] Haha! Will do!

She didn’t know how to react upon reading their heartwarming messages. They were, quite honestly, really unexpected for her, and the impact hit harder since it was around the time of her parents’ death anniversary.

“See? They don’t blame you one bit,” Jiyong reassured, reaching over the the table to pat her head. “You can save their numbers onto your phone if you want.”

Silently nodding, she took out her phone and began inputing their numbers, all while feeling a small lump in her throat, realizing that all these years, she had been avoiding them for no apparent reason.

They still loved her, but she was too scared for herself that she didn’t consider how they felt.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, handing him his phone back. “I guess I needed that wake up call.”

Jiyong chuckled before throwing her a knowing smirk. “Just be glad I didn’t send them your dating articles with Sunwoo.”

A small gasp left her lips at the realization. “Ah–”

That’s right. She never told Jiyong about her relationship.

Jiyong had to find out about his sister’s new love life through Dispatch articles, rather than his own sister telling him herself.

Avoiding his smug look, she resorted to looking out the window. His angelic smile looked far from innocent, looking more menacing if anything.

Knowing she was in for a barrage of questions, she made herself comfortable in the booth. “Alright, have at it, but keep it down so we don’t get caught.”

Jiyong wasted no time, leaning forwards on the table with curious eyes before firing off questions at rapid speed.

“How did you meet him?”

“We had a Weekly Idol shoot together back in 2019.”

“Who made the first move?”

“I guess he did...?”

“How long have you two been actually dating?”

“Since our Inception comeback.”

“And why didn’t it cross your mind to tell me?”

Jiyu was at a loss for an answer. “...That’s a good question.”

Jiyong’s face morphed into one of a kicked puppy. “Hey! That’s just mean, how do you forget to tell your own brother?!”

“It slipped my mind since I got so busy with the comeback, and I thought I told you but I guess I didn’t in reality,” she sheepishly answered, scratching the back of her neck.

Leaning back into his seat, he dejectedly crossed his arms like a child throwing a tantrum. “Fine, I guess I’ll forgive you,” he pouted his lips.

“You love me too much,” she sang, giving him her best aegyo performance, but only bursted into laughter when he started cringing.

He faked a gag. “Never do that again for the sake of you and I.”

“I know, that felt terrible,” she couldn’t help but agree.

“Jokes aside, I hope he makes you happy. And if he makes you cry, let me know, you hear?” Jiyong said, his brotherly protectiveness seeping into his tone.

Jiyu nodded with a hearty chuckle. “Yes, yes, I will.”

“But how’s modeling? I swear you got skinnier the last time I saw you,” she frowned upon seeing how baggy and loose his clothes seemed on him. “Are you eating?”

“Funny how you’re the one breaking your back for these performances and you’re worrying about me,” he joked, hoping to ease her worry. “But I’ve been eating my meals, don’t worry. I just went on a diet—”

“What diet? You’re already skin and bones as it is,” she pointed out. She knew being a model was difficult, but she never realized just how much effort it takes for a model to take care of themselves.

And when it comes to ESteem, a branch under SM Entertainment, she knew how strict things were.

“I’ll be okay, Ji, don’t worry!” he smiled, “I should be asking you about your eating and sleeping habits.”

“Seonghwa makes sure I eat at least two meals a day and that I’m in bed as soon as possible, I think I’m more inclined to worry about you.”

An airy and defeated huff sounded from the man. He knew she was right, she had eight people to look after her, while he was out at castings all day and lived by himself. It was a relieving thought—his sister was well-taken care of when he wasn’t around.

“Fair enough,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, “But seriously, I’m okay. I won’t work myself to exhaustion.”

“Promise?” she stuck her pinky out, a worried pout on her lips.

Jiyong intertwined his pinky with her’s, mumbling his promise with a soft smile.

Too engrossed in their bonding time, little did they know someone had spotted them from across the street while he was on his way to buy drinks for his members as punishment for losing a game of rock-paper-scissors.

And his face and heart fell when he saw the familiar white bracelet on the girl’s wrist, but her pinky was connected with another man’s while she adoringly smiled at him, the man mirroring her expression.

[xutokawa]

↬ dance with me | pt. 3

pairing: k.bokuto x fem!reader

genre(s): soulmate!au, soul-crushing angst, some fluff, childhood best friends to lovers

warnings: none, just angst

wc: 1.3k

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✧ updates every 1-3 days

a/n: sorry it took a little longer to update pt. 3! i was lacking some motivation but seeing so many people liking my series gave me the motivation i needed to finish pt. 3! its a big shorter than pt. 2 but packed with angst >:) hope you enjoy :D

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Bokuto tried to ignore the clench of his heart once he took in your state. He tried to ignore the urges to pull you into his arms and protect you from whatever was causing you distress. 

He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He shouldn’t be blushing anytime your hand accidentally brushed against his. There shouldn’t be butterflies fluttering in his stomach anytime you flashed your oh-so-beautiful smile at him. He shouldn’t be going out of his way to say silly things just to hear the beautiful melody of your laugh.

He can’t have feelings for you. You aren’t his soulmate, that much was made clear on the morning of your eighteenth birthday.

Bokuto didn’t understand why he felt so disappointed hearing you say you didn’t have a soulmate mark. He couldn’t explain why even though he felt sad, all he wanted to do was make you smile again.

His feelings were unexplainable, he couldn’t have feelings for his best friend.

What was even more unexplainable, however, is why he accepted Machi’s confession. Don’t get him wrong, Machi was beautiful. There wasn’t anything bad about her; she was sweet, smart, and attractive. That’s why Bokuto said yes, it had to be. No one in their right mind would turn down Machi. Of course, that’s why Bokuto agreed to take her on a date. He should be happy.

So why did it feel like his world was crumbling when he told you about Machi? Why did he feel like the scum of the earth watching you take in the information. He felt pathetic. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes. Watching you turn around in a flurry, mumbling about forgetting something in your classroom, he wanted nothing more than to run after you, tell you it was a mistake. 

The spiker pulled on his hair in frustration. Despite knowing these things, he still didn’t understand why? He has no right to feel this way. 

Chalking it up to guilt from not consulting with his best friend before accepting a confession, he pushed away his feelings, claiming it was just platonic guilt.

His confusion only grew when he realized you were avoiding him. He tried to convince himself otherwise. The spiker just assumed you were respecting the boundaries between the two of you because of Machi, letting her wait for him after practices instead of you, giving him time to catch up with Machi before classes instead of talking to you. 

You didn’t miss his longing gazes that burned through your shoulders as you brushed past him in the hallways. refusing to acknowledge him. It felt wrong ignoring Bokuto, a weird feeling settling in your chest after acting as if he never existed. But it was necessary. Your couldn’t put yourself through the pain of acting like everything was normal around Bokuto, knowing he was your soulmate, yet giving all of his firsts to her.

Laying in bed, you often find yourself wondering if Bokuto already had his first kiss, first date, first time. Unbeknownst to you, your soulmate was laying in his own bed across the street, wondering if your hair always looked so pretty in the sun.

That’s why the next time you two are alone, the tension between the two of you became unbearable. “So what do you think about Machi?” Bokuto asked, trying to clear the air of any awkwardness.

“I don’t know her that well, but she seems nice,” you tried to reply, not letting your voice betray your emotions.

Bokuto looked down. Nice, huh?

“Why did you do it?” you suddenly asked, eyes boring into the side of the spiker’s head.

“I don’t know,” Bokuto mumbled honestly. Clearing his throat, he looked up, meeting your eyes, trying to decipher the emotions running through them. “I guess I wanted to date someone. Waiting around for my soulmate seemed boring,” he lied, eyes searching a little too hard to see your reaction, still seeming to miss the flash of hurt in your eyes.

“What are you going to do when you find your soulmate?” you prodded, curiosity taking over, knowing you would be hurt by his response.

“I guess we’ll have to see,” Bokuto started, sending a knife straight into your heart, “I know our soulmates are meant to be our perfect match, but what if things between Machi and I turn out to be really good, y’know?” You wanted nothing more to escape and return home, shutting yourself away from the outside world.

Hearing there was no guarantee that Bokuto would chose you, even after finding out about being soulmates, caused something inside you to shatter. You quickly stood up from where you were sitting, walking off before the spiker could see the tears well up in your eyes.  

“Y/n, where are you going?” Bokuto’s eyes shone with concern as he started walking after you.

“It’s nothing, I just remembered something important I have to do,” you lied, trying to level your shaky voice. 

You hoped your lie would work, but you knew you couldn’t fool Bokuto. That’s why it hurt even more when he didn’t come after you, demanding you tell him what was wrong so he could cheer you up. He used to do it all the time, so why stop now? Was it because of Machi? It would make sense for him as a boyfriend to respect some boundaries. 

After all, to him, you were just his childhood friend.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The next time you ran into Bokuto was at the library. You were there to finish up a paper, feeling stuffy in your own bedroom after being holed up attempting to avoid Bokuto. It was just your luck that the moment you went out in public, you would run into him. He hadn’t noticed you. How could you when he was sleeping soundly, mouth slightly agape as drool pooled onto the book under his head. You could help but slightly giggle at his appearance. His left splayed on the table, palm facing upwards as his right arm acted as a cushion for his head. His soulmate mark on his left wrist stood out proudly against his milky skin. 

Before you knew it, you were walking towards where he was seated. An insatiable urged filled you to match your soulmate mark to his. Perhaps you just wanted confirmation that what Akaashi said was true, perhaps you just needed reassurance that the wing spiker was actually your soulmate, wanted the justification that he was deemed to be your perfect match. 

Quietly pulling out the chair next to him, you set your belongings on the table before turning to face Bokuto. Your breathing fell in time with his as you tentatively reached out with your right hand, soulmate mark tingling. Nervously, you stared as you watched your fingers lightly brushed against his palm before slotting them between his calloused fingers. It wasn’t like you never held his hand before, but somehow, it felt different this time, more intimate. You hesitated before slowly pushing your wrist to align with his. Holding your breath, you watched as the thick lines on your wrist perfectly filled the gaps between Bokuto’s lines, filling them in to create a perfect square. The blood in your body rushed to your head as your heart pounded furiously against your chest, soulmate mark burning at this point. Tears unknowingly rolled down your cheeks.

He’s mine. Bokuto is my soulmate.

You couldn’t help but let out happy chuckle. Your happiness was quickly replaced with panic as you felt Bokuto’s hand tighten around yours. Eyes quickly darting to Bokuto’s face, you breathed out a sigh of relief as you took in his sleeping figure, knowing he was still unconscious. However, no measure of preparedness could have braced you from the heartbreak you were about to endure.

The happiness you built up knowing Bokuto truly was your soulmate was soon shattered as soon as the spiker breathed out one word in his sleep.

“Machi.”

That day you realized it didn’t matter if Bokuto was your soulmate, if he was your one true other half. He would never be yours.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

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[sunsetcurvecuddles]

“Let me bandage you up,” Tía or Ray and Reggie, just to be different. 😁

hi i loved this so much omg. huge thanks to Ángela @angela-feelstoomuch for the spanish help as well, any remaining mistakes are totally my own fault haha. warning for some swearing and mentions of bl00d/minor injury.

ao3 link in reblogs!

--

Honestly, being an honorary Molina is pretty great most of the time. Reggie loves having a little brother, would have done anything to convince his parents to have another kid when he was younger (and alive), though he knew they never would, since one kid was already such a pain in the ass. So Carlos is amazing.

And obviously Julie is his favourite girl ever, and his favourite still-alive person in the world, and she sings like an angel and thinks his country songs are cool and he would do anything for her and et cetera. It’s nice to see Luke and Alex settle in, get more relaxed - Luke doesn’t shy away from Julie every time Ray enters a room, and Alex doesn’t make excuses to miss dinner so that he doesn’t have to say grace, because he’s realised Ray doesn’t make him say grace.

“Niños!” Ray is calling from the kitchen, oven mitts on his hands, grin on his face, “Help setting the table?”

Even from here, dinner smells amazing. “Coming!” Reggie calls, manages not to say ‘dad’ at the end but it’s close, as he and Carlos bounce up off the couch and run to the kitchen.

Ray is the best. Reggie’s own dad was - look, it’s not that he was awful, it’s not that Reggie hates him, it’s just - he saw these dads, in movies, and on TV, and in other peoples homes, and he wanted one even more than he wanted a puppy, or a little brother, and Ray is that dad. He’s understanding, and encouraging, and funny, and a great cook, and he never raises his voice even when he should be mad about something. Reggie feels so lucky that Julie and Carlos let Reggie share their dad, even unofficially.

“Carlos!” Tía snaps, as he runs past her and ducks under her elbow, narrowly avoiding the tray in her hands, “Cuidado! La bandeja está caliente!”

It’s Tía Victoria who kinda scares Reggie.

It’s not that she’s not nice. Tía is nice. She brings over food and drives Carlos to ball games and pesters Ray about dentists’ appointments he almost forgets to go to. It’s just that she’s a little more like the other adults Reggie knew. She barks her words, sometimes, and she doesn’t get Julie’s music thing quite like Ray does, even if she’s supportive for the most part. And she doesn’t always believe Carlos about things, which Reggie understands more now that he’s been conned by Carlos about several random things (for example, Eggos are not in the house-sized waffle business in 2020 as Carlos told him, and they did not manage to breed dragons into existence with new DNA cloning technology) but still. It makes him nervous.

“Sorry, Tía!” Carlos chirps as he slides on his socks into a crouched position in front of the cupboard where they keep all the plates and bowls. Since Carlos has them handled, Reggie goes for glasses instead, reaching overhead for the cupboard on the opposite side of the room.

“Carlos!” sighs Tía again, more irritated than before, and Reggie feels his shoulders tense even though he wills them not to. “Let me help carry some of those, you’ll drop them, sobrino.”

“Fine,” Carlos huffs, and there’s the clink of plates as he passes half his pile off to her and they head for the dining table.

Reggie counts in his head as he stacks the glasses in the crook of his arm. There’s him and the boys, so four - wait, no, three - plus Julie, so four - then Ray and Carlos and Tía so five six seven -

He’s too caught up counting, is the problem, and doesn’t focus enough on how he has the glasses balanced. It probably would have been fine, except there’s a loud thud! Which Reggie registers a moment too late as being Luke, jumping from the top of the stairs to the bottom, enjoying his alive body. The sound scares Reggie about a foot in the air, and he fumbles the stack of glasses, and almost manages to save it.

The glass from the very top of the pile smashes on the floor, a harsh shatter that makes every head in the room turn in his direction. Reggie feels the panic surge up in him like a forgotten pot on the stove suddenly bubbling over. With trembling hands, he puts the rest of the glasses on the counter and scrambles down to the floor, tries to gather the glass shards together into a pile from where they’ve scattered, desperate to tidy the mess, to give some sense of responsibility, instead of just standing there like a stupid kid. “I’m sorry,” he starts, and his voice shakes more than he’d like, almost more than his hands had, “I’m sorry, I can clean it-”

“Reggie!” interrupts Tía, and her voice seems sharper than the glass.

“Victoria-” Ray begins, but Tía doesn’t let him finish, either. She’s already practically at Reggie’s side, crouching down next to him on the floor.

Her closeness makes Reggie’s hairs stand on end, and he’s not sure what he expects, but it’s not for her to gently lay her fingertips on his wrist and say, in a much softer tone, “Mijo, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh.” Reggie blinks. Looks at his arm, next to where her perfectly manicured nails have landed. She’s right, he sees. There’s a few little gashes, nothing huge, trickling blood in tiny streams down his forearm. In a few more moments, the blood would have reached his hand, and he would have noticed, probably. Except when he turns his palms up to look at them, he realises they’re cut up, too. Probably from grabbing glass shards with no protection.

His lip wobbles before he can stop it. He can still feel everyone looking at him. Knows what they must be thinking.

Stupid fucking kid.

“What are you staring at?” Tía says, back to business as usual. He flinches at her voice, before he realises she’s not talking to him. She’s talking to the others. “Come on! Ray, grab the dustpan and some shoes, clean up this glass before anyone else gets hurt. Carlos, finish setting the table, and Luke, go fetch the others para la comida.” In his peripheral vision, Reggie sees everyone bounce back into action, like her words broke a spell on them, and it’s a relief to know they’re not all looking at him any more. Tía continues, as she tucks an arm around Reggie’s shoulders, “Reggie and I will be back.”

“We will?” Reggie asks automatically, as she helps him balance on his wobbly, baby-giraffe legs.

“En un minuto,” she tells him confidently. “But first, let me bandage you up.”

He’s not exactly going to argue with her. Honestly, any excuse to get out of the public space is appreciated when his eyes still feel so close to swimming with tears. Firm yet warm, she leads him to the bathroom and has him sit on the closed toilet lid while she pulls Ray’s first aid kid from the cabinet, pulling from it some disinfectant, bandages and a pair of tweezers.

“Just in case any glass is left,” she explains briskly, settling on the edge of the bathtub and turning his arm over, palm up, so she can see the scratches. She tuts softly. “Your poor hands!”

Reggie ducks his head, whispers, “I really am sorry.”

“¿Por qué?” she asks. “It was an accident, right?”

“Huh?”

She sits back again and looks him in the eyes for a moment. If it was Ray, or one of the boys, Reggie would shy away from the look, but she has the same skill Julie has, to pin you in place with her gaze, so Reggie assumes it’s from Rose’s side of the family. “I know you didn’t throw that glass on the ground on purpose. It was just an accident. These things happen.”

“You’re not angry?” The question slips out before Reggie can think about how silly it sounds, but instead of rolling her eyes, or her jaw clenching in annoyance, Tía’s expression softens somehow.

“No, mijo. Not at all. Estaba un poco preocupada, maybe, but that’s only because I care about you.”

Reggie doesn’t know what to say to that. Bites his lip as she gently applies disinfectant along the wounds, once she’s declared them sufficiently glass-free, and wills himself not to cry as she wraps the bandages around his arm and a little around the palm of his hand. At least if he cries she’ll just think it’s because of the sting, and not because he braced himself so hard to be yelled at and called names and then it never came.

Not because he keeps remembering that he feels like glass himself. Always a moment away from falling onto the ground and shattering, so teeter-y that the kindness of adults he barely knows can almost knock him over the edge.

“Terminado!” she declares, tying off the last of the bandage, and gives him a big smile. It looks genuine enough. Not like she’s bottling anything up to let out at him later. Not like she’s fronting, or lying, not that Reggie’s ever been particularly good at telling the difference with anyone. She must see the puzzlement in his face, because she adds, “Just an accident.”

It really seems that simple. Like everything’s just fixed and okay. Like she doesn’t think Reggie is stupid. The feeling is sort of overwhelming; Reggie’s stomach feels all warm, and - empty, actually. It grumbles loudly in that moment, and Tía laughs, and Reggie laughs with her.

“Vamos a como?” he tries, because he’s been listening, and trying to pick things up.

“Vamos a comer,” she corrects him, but he can’t mistake her tone this time for anything other than delighted, her expression for anything other than fond and relieved as she helps him up. They go back down the stairs, her loosely holding his hand the whole way, not enough to hurt his wounds, but enough to remind him she’s there.

She presents him to the table with a goofy little ta-da! gesture, much to the joy of those already at the table. “Our Reggie, back in one piece!” she says. Laughter and relief radiates from all the others, and Tía grins, pleased, puts her hands on her waist. In that moment, despite all his preconceptions, she reminds him more of Julie than anyone else.

Maybe she isn’t so scary after all.