#it’s a bit of a learning curve but you’ll get used to it promise

[xstarrynitex]

guys look at her she’s so cool i love this card so much RAHHH PLAY BANDORI MOOTS DO IT NOW

and if you get into it JOIN OUR SERVER!! we’re looking for new members rn and we’d really appreciate it!! i promise you don’t have to be skilled or experienced at all, you can join it just to talk with other bandori fans! ok thanks for letting me yap that will be all :3

[magicxc]

Stay With You

Pairings: Trevante Rhodes x Black Reader x Aldis Hodge

Word Count: 1652

Warnings: double penetration, hand job, cream pies

BBJ Masterlist

“Y’all when I said let's go camping, I was thinking something along the lines of smores, maybe even a cute lil bonfire,” I ranted. “But to be out here in natures ass crack, the possible meal of a grizzly bear is where I draw the line. 

“Y/N, we’re in a makeshift tent in the backyard, I doubt a grizzly is making it this far into the city,” Aldis sighed. 

“And if he does, we’ll hear him,” Trevante added. 

“Was that supposed to make me feel better?”

“This is practice Y/N, you stay complaining like this on the real campsite and a grizzly will be the least of your worries.”

“Aldi, is that a threat?” I gasped. 

“No, it’s a warning, so take heed.” 

“Ohhh Aldiii, you giving out warnings now?” Trevante mocked. 

Deadpanning Tre, I look over to Aldis to assess what the problem really is. 

“Aldi, you know I don’t do the whole nature thing, but I’m legitimately trying FOR YOU." 

“You ain’t gotta try if all you gone do is keep complaining,” he protested. 

“I AM -“

“Hey hey hey y’all enough,” Tre interrupted. “Let's put a pin in it before one of us says something we can’t take back. 

Always the peacemaker that one. Trevante is quite literally the definition of lover not a fighter, whereas Aldis on the other hand is my little hot head. We tend to clash from time to time, but we’re learning which buttons not to push. 

He’s been begging us to go camping for a minute now and I finally gave in last weekend, opting to do this only if I could work my way up there. Tre is no more keen to do it than I am, but pushed those feelings to the side for all the times Aldis has been so willing to try something for us. I guess it didn’t help that I’ve been bitching since we crawled inside here. 

Sighing, I apologized for my earlier whining and creeped over to his side of the tent to seal it with a kiss. He accepts it with a grumble, but the scowl on his face tells a different story. 

“Baby, I am so sorry for not coming in here with an open mind and if you let me, I’ll have us all making noises a grizzly wouldn’t dare interrupt.”

I get a small smile in return, but it’s not the heart melting one I’m used to seeing. 

“Please, forgive me and come morning I’ll fix your favorite breakfast.”

“There are no stoves in the woods,” Tre reminded. 

“Right, well I’ll do whatever it takes to survive in nature,” I promised. “No soap, no toothpaste, just a knife and my killer instincts.”

A chorus of woahs follows from both men, Aldis urging me to relax, emphasizing the idea that living in nature surrenders the use of modern technology not hygiene. 

“Yeah well I’ll stay clean ONLY if you forgive me,” I bargained. 

Chuckling, he leans in and pecks me on the lips, formally forgiving my prior tantrum. 

“Moving forward, I don’t wanna hear no lip and you’ll do exactly as I say,” he demanded.  

Wrapping my arms around his neck I lean in for another kiss, mumbling a yes sir. Deepening it, I feel Tre’s palm run across my ass, caressing its curves in the softest way. 

Aldis’ arms wrap around my waist, pulling me in closer as his lips run over mine, trailing down to my chin, my neck, and stopping just shy of my breast. 

“Now, tell me more about those non interrupting grizzly noises,” he says through light pecks. 

Shuffling off the floor Tre gets behind me, locking me in between them, sprinkling his fair share of kisses along my back in agreement with Aldis. 

Turning so that my body faces forward, I rest my arms on the shoulder of each man; leaning firstly into Tre and then into Aldi to swap a little bit of spit. 

“Well, for starters we’d need less clothes.“

“Like this shirt for instance,” Tre proposed as he tugged it off me. 

“And these pants,” Aldis added, unbuckling them. “They don’t really serve much purpose do they?”

Shaking my head no, I help them shed the rest of the clothes by ridding myself of the remaining undergarments. Now in my birthday suit, I watch as each man's clothing finds itself in a pile next to mine. 

Tongue slipping between teeth and over my lips, I can’t help the jolt of excitement that washes over me as I ready myself for both my men. Leaning over to Tre, I sink my teeth into his skin as I suck on his sweet spot, no doubt leaving a hickey - eager to mark him in the sexiest way. 

He breathes out soft, shy pants and I reach down to grab his semi hard dick as I stroke it back and forth. Dribbles of precum ooze from the tip and I drag my thumb forward to smear it against his length, allowing me to jerk him off a little more smoothly. 

Tilting over to my left, I lean into Aldis and dip my head into the firm arch of his shoulder blade, peppering his jaw in open mouth kisses; spots of saliva left behind after each one. 

He then grabs my left breast, his mouth swirling around the hardened nipple as my head tips back at the delicious sensation, quiet mewling tumbling past my lips. Tre follows suit with my other breast, tweaking and kneading before taking the nipple into his warm mouth. 

Hand gliding down Aldis’ lap, I stop at his girthy member, tracing over each thick vein while I softly run my hand over his nuts. Bringing my hand to my face, I spit in the palm and return it back to his length, this time stroking him with ease. 

Breathy moans follow, but it comes out muffled around my nipple and I take this chance to speed up in pace on both men, hoping to see their creamy finish. 

“Tell me how good this feels,” I whimpered. “Matter of fact, cum for me so I know it’s real.” 

Heated lips run along my skin, tongues leaving wet trails in their paths while hands get entangled with limbs and moans get engulfed into the noiseless night. My body feels hot with desire, eyelids fluttering closed, and mouth ajar, I couldn’t tell who was doing what but my movements never ceased; eager to bring my men over the edge. 

Their heavy breathing becomes more erratic, my cooing and encouragement having them spill onto me as my hands come to a slow stop and I lick each fist clean. 

Grabbing the back of my neck, Aldis pulls me in for a kiss, thumbs spreading my lips open to taste himself. Pulling away, I turn over to Tre and dive in for another round of tongue twisting, saliva trailing down our chins as we pull apart. 

“On all fours Y/N, you know wassup,” Aldi directed. 

“Yes sirrrr, Tre you on the bottom baby?” 

“I’m wherever you want me,” he winked. 

Lying down on his back, he helps position me on top of him, dick in hand as he watches me slowly slide down his length. A heavy gasp leaves us both at the heated feeling of being connected. After we adjust, he gives me a lazy smile, mouthing a quick I love you to which I eagerly return it.

“Ready for me angel?”

“Go for it Aldi.” 

“I’ll be your genie, Y/N, every fucking day if you let me,” he confides, smearing his cum between my ass. 

“Your every wish would be my command,” he continued, entering first with his finger. 

“You’re my beacon of light honey,” he insisted, adding in another digit. “In an otherwise bleak and cruel world.” 

“You both reassure me that all is not lost,” he chanted, driving his fingers into me, the pace deliciously unwavering. 

“Y’all have given me the joy to call you guys family,” he admitted, removing his fingers entirely. 

“But this ass? Oh this ass Y/N is what I can call home,” Aldis ended as he thrusted to the hilt. 

No matter how many times he’s entered my backdoor, I can never get used to his sheer size. He always knocks the wind out of me and I find myself planted face first into Tre’s chest, his hands cradling my jaws as I seep back into reality. Sweet nothings are whispered into my ear but it’s the driving force of their dicks that fully reels me into the present. 

“There she is,” Tre snickered. “I got you baby girl, don’t you worry.” 

I barely recognize the sounds coming from me, my words now indecipherable, cockdrunk and drooling as they tear me apart. Aldis wraps his hand around my throat, drawing me in to plaster my lips with sloppy kisses while Tre takes a hold of my waist to drive his dick further into me, my pussy stretched around his dick as his tongue explores the shape of my neck. 

My fingers are embedded into skin, whose I don’t know, but the crescent shaped marks will reveal it sooner or later. Tongue sliding against Aldis’ while Tre’s fingers dance every which way across my waist and thighs, I can’t help the howl that escapes me; grizzly bear be damned, my body feels worked over past its limits. 

The peak that I hit seems never ending, my soul paralyzed and heartbeat accelerating, while everything around me ceases to exist. I come down just in time enough to feel them splatter my walls simultaneously which elicits a minigasm of my own. 

Loud, labored panting is all that I hear. Rough, calloused hands is all that I feel. Navy blue sky littered with twinkling stars is the view that meets me and I must admit that camping isn’t so bad after all. 

[anemhoez]

Desire…(pt 2)

Scar/AFAB Reader!

A/N: so this was in my drafts for a bit and just needed to be proofread 🤭 oops im so sorry i became a hard ATINY and now my life revolves around those 8 queers 🥴 hope you all enjoy and let me know when Scar comes back i havent touched WuWa since 🙄 feel free to read part 1 here hehe

WARNINGS: language, unprotected sex, monster fucking 👀

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Upon finally entering his room, Scar let you down onto your feet and gave you a kiss on the forehead, “Welcome home doll.” he said softly. You looked around the room, taking in everything all at once and learning the kind of person he was behind closed doors. It was all, surprisingly normal looking. The room was large enough to have two separate spaces. There was a section for his bed, ornate and comfortable looking, and a section for lounging where he had a computer set up. Aside from the shockingly bright red walls, there really wasn’t much to say about it. “And here I thought you’d have people chained up and begging for their lives.”

Scar emerged from a door you assumed led to the bathroom since you could hear water running in the background. “That’s what the dungeon is for, maybe I’ll show it to you one day.” he said and reached out to you. You took his hand and he led you to the bathroom, which had the same red walls but there were accents of black and gold that caught your eye. He sat on the edge of the onyx colored bathtub, observing the way you looked around at everything. “Im a little offended you think i would live like some kind of barbarian,!Rover.” he said crossing his arms over his chest. You giggled and turned to look at him, “Sorry it’s just, I’m glad i won’t have to change much, I like your taste.” you said as you put both hands on his cheeks. You squished his face and leaned in to kiss him but he pulled back. “Who said you’re even allowed to touch anything?” You don’t know why you thought everything he did was so cute, but the way he spoke through his squished cheeks was just so endearing. “Blah blah blah,” you teased and pulled him into that kiss you wanted. He pulled you closer, intensifying the kiss and squeezing your rear. Now you were the one to pull away from him, finally removing your shoes and stockings. He stood up and stopped the running water and added some sweet smelling soap. He helped you get in the tub, making eye contact with you as he removed his own shoes and pants.

You finally got a good look at his dick, at full mast by now after all of the teasing the two of you were doing. And it was just as impressive as you expected, long and thick with a delicious looking curve that caused a pang in your gut once you saw it. He saw you eyeing him and reached for it, tugging on it hard. You made eye contact with him and pointed to your mouth in a cute way that made him smile. He prodded at your mouth, moaning as he felt the warmth and wetness once you took him in. “Who am i kidding, you can do whatever the fuck you want,” he huffed and took the back of your head with both hands and pushed you even further onto him. You gagged hard and looked up at him, his smile widening mischievously, pulling out so you could catch your breath. “You’ll get used to it, promise.” he said and leaned down to give you a kiss.

He then stepped into the tub, sitting down across from you, leaning back on the rim of the tub. “Feels so good to be home, that prison was so dull, if you hadn’t gotten me out of there when you did, I’m not sure what i’d have done.” You grabbed the nearby wash cloth and dunked it into the water, letting the soapy suds soak into it. You began scrubbing him, starting with his neck and chest. “I’m sure someone would have shown up, and given us quite the fight.” As you scrubbed his skin, the scars on his body almost looked red due to the warm water. You couldn’t help but admire his body, muscular yet lean and littered with scars that each held a story to tell. “I told them that once i was caught to not bother coming for me, a part of me felt like there was no way they could win against you,” your hands slipped into the water and began scrubbing his stomach and thighs. “I really was banking my fate on you,” he said softly, taking you by the chin to look into your eyes. “How did you know that i’d choose you?” He smiled and pulled you closer, “The day in that clearing, when i told you that story, you were so interested in finding out the truth,” you moved with him as he pulled your face closer to his, your cunt brushing against his stiff cock as you now straddled him. “Your curiosity to learn everything they’ve been lying to you about, I knew youd want to know more, and getting you like this,” he kissed you as he prodded at your entrance, lazily grinding up against you, “is a bonus, I mean I’m good but I didn’t know i was that good,” he laughed at himself, patting himself on the back for getting someone as lovely as you on his side, and in his bed.

“Quite the gamble,” you said and reached down, taking the base of his cock and lining him up with your waiting cunt. “So impatient,” he said as he watched you, and reached down to stop you from sinking down on him by holding your thigh with one hand, while the other grabbed his cock. He rubbed his tip against your folds, “You think you’re gonna get what you want that easily?” he chuckled darkly and moved you so that you could sit with your back pressed against his chest. You audibly whined, “You are as evil as they say!” you teased and he just laughed. He grabbed some soap and began cleansing your body, trailing the soap down your front, “Come now, I want to help clean up the mess I made,” he kissed your cheek playfully while you seethed.

Once the two of you finished washing up your need was still as hot as ever, now hating how he laughed at you as you began getting bratty with him. But almost as if he felt your desire, the second he helped you stand on the plush bath mat, he lifted you up, and finally stuffed you full of his cock in one swift motion. “Scar!” you yelped out, your wet hands gripping for purchase on his back. He knew exactly how to get to you already, making you realize just how your lives together would play out from now own. You held onto him, the cool air pricked at your slicked skin as he walked you to his bed.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his dick so deep inside of you, you were sure you felt him in your gut. You tried moving up on him but he held you down firmly and scoffed. “Needy little slut,” his words made you clench down on him even harder, your pussy was aching at this point. “Asshole,” you hissed suddenly, the surprised look on his face threatening to make you giggle through your fake annoyance. “Did you bring me back to fuck me or just tease me?” you tried wiggling out of his grasp, pushing against his chest as you tried to stand. “I’ll just finish myself off-ahh!” you yelped as he gripped you even tighter, his fingernails had turned to claws during your attempt at defiance. Scar dragged his claws up your back, “Fuck I didn’t think you had it in you,” you finally started to ride him slowly, his thick cock molding agsinst your waitibg walls. “You’re holding back, aren’t you?” you huffed against his lips, letting out a small moan as he bucked up against you. “You’re worried I’ll get hurt, right?” you took his face in your hands, kissing his lips breathlessly as you chased your release. “Yes,” he sighed holding you even closer, his hands now resting at your rear. “I can handle it Scar, please don’t hold back.” your voice was a whisper in his ears now, pleading for him to let go and be himself with you.

He growled, the tightness of your walls against him driving him to finally let go. His eyes glowed red and his horns appeared on his forehead. They twisted at the tips as he stared at you, a wicked smile on his face. You reached for his horns, and pulled him into a kiss, one he reciprocated eagerly. He lifted you up as he stood and maneuvered your body swiftly so that you were on your back. But you immediately turned so that you were on your knees, “Come on then,” you perked your ass up to him and you could see the way his eyes flashed. Scar buried himself into you once again, his claws digging into the flesh of your ass, “Rover, you better tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he said with a moan as he felt your tightness around him. You just nodded quickly, bucking back up against him as you craved more of him. His pace quickened, his hips smacking into yours loudly, any mystery of what was happening in here lost due to the lewd sounds the two of you were making. Gods you hated how good his dick felt, already knowing you’d be addicted to it after this. You were certain you’d be begging him to fuck you wherever and whenever you wanted from now on. He pressed down on the small of your back, your body sinking onto the bed and resting on your arms and cheek. The harder he fucked you, the more you felt your peak nearing, accompanied by a slight pain. But you didn’t stop him like he told you to, you didnt want the onslaught of the most intense pleasure you ever felt to stop. Not only that, you were sure you couldn’t even speak a coherent sentence with the whiny babbles that were dripoung from your lips as he pistoned into you. Scar leaned down, “Perfect little rover, all mine.” he moaned out and licked your cheek, trailing a path to your neck. He kissed and sucked marks onto your back and once he was done, he caged your body between his arms. He fucked you into the mattress mercilessly, tears forming at the corner of your eyes at the pleasure and you buried your face into the sheets, quieting the scream that signaled your climax. “Yes, fuck don’t stop!” you begged as you clenched around him, feeling another orgasm incoming. Scar didnt let up, loud grunts coming from deep in his thtoat as he threw his head back, “Gods,” he sighed and thrust against you as hard as he could, bringing the both of you to climax. You writhed on his twitching cock that filled you with his hot seed, finally unclenching your jaw and letting go of the sheets. He kissed the back of your neck, “I really fucking like you, doll.” he chuckled against you before pulling out. He watched his release drip out of your spent and swollen pussy, “You alright?“ You moved to sit up, wiping at you eyes “I’m fine Scar,” you spoke softly, looking at him with tired fucked out eyes. You reached for him and he smiled, moving closer to cuddle you.

The two of you lay next to one another chatting about your new life together and getting to know one another better. He kissed and soothed you, reassuring you with kind words about how he’d never betray you. “You can trust me,” his voice was soft as he spoke, pulling you even closer to him by your leg. You winced and let out a small sigh from the pain, “I told you to tell me if it hurt,” he said rolling his eyes at you. You snuggled closer to him, “I know but it felt so good, I wasn’t about to stop you.” you kissed his chest to reassure him you were going to be fine. Scar growled in defiance but still kissed your forehead, despite you disobeying him. The rest of the night was spent with him praising you and thanking you for choosing him, his stamina unlike anything else you’ve experienced as he pleasured you over and over again.

A/N: PLEASE LET ME CHOOSE HIM!!!!! I WANT ONLY HIM!!! ugh!!! i dont wanna feel good i wanna feel evil and fuck the hot villain 🥲

[age-of-play-i-say]

“Okay, little one, I know your potty training is not going well. As your caregiver, I’ve been thinking long and hard about what might be best for us moving forward,”

Momma continues as though I’m not squirming violently in front of her on my potty chair, having been placed there over an hour before and promised a special playtime reward if I could hang on until Momma came back.

“And I honestly think the learning curve of identifying when you’re full of humpies or when you’re full of tinkles is really getting in the way of being my sweet, obedient baby and doing your tinkles in your big kid potty like you want to. Would you agree?”

I nod vigorously, cheeks reddening as I am talked about like a baby, bladder and baby parts pulsing urgently. 

“Good!” Momma advances and reaches into her bag, pulling out what looks like a regular stuffed teddy bear to me, light brown with a red yarn face and a matching red bow tie. I reach up for it eagerly and Momma grins, placing her finger under his bowtie and then passing him over to me.

I go to hug him to my chest until I hear a light buzzing coming from the bear's head. Puzzled, I look up to check in with Momma.

She’s grinning down at me, enjoying my surprise even as I strain to hold on.

“You see, my little one. We’re going to leave Mr. Tinkle Teddy in here,” she tugs him from my questioning grasp and flips him over, attaching his bow tie to a small hook on the front side of my potty chair, settling his body on the seat between my shaking thighs and his buzzing face pressed up against my stiff pee pee, “and then-” 

Momma is interrupted by my moan as the pleasure from the vibrating plush relaxes my muscles just barely and a brief pattering is heard in the otherwise silent bathroom. I regain control and bounce lightly against the head of the bear, closing my eyes and moaning louder this time.

Momma keeps going, ignoring my leak but her eyes are fixed on my baby parts now, and her words come faster, more urgent.

“So anytime you have any kind of tingles, I want you to come in here and make humpies on your Tinkle Teddy, okay? You can make humpies without worrying about what kind of squirting you’ll do, all right? That’s too much thinking for a baby like you. That way you won’t have any more playtime accidents, and making your tinkles in the potty is a treat, not a punishment. Sound good, little one?” 

I open my eyes, and look up at her adoringly and open up my mouth to agree, only for her to put one finger in my mouth. I close my eyes again and suckle her finger, whining and whimpering. I hump forward again, pressing my twitching little stiffie into Teddy. I gaze up at Momma with tears in my eyes, needing every kind of release desperately, but even more desperate to be good for her.

I’ve lost the ability to speak up, but Momma knows what I need, sliding a second finger into my mouth. She groans quietly, bringing her other hand down to my eye level to stroke herself over her jeans.

“Time to make potty, little one, let Momma hear how much you held inside you. Let me hear how good you were for me. Once you’re empty, you can come as much as you want on your Tinkle Teddy, okay?”

I nod as much as I can with her fingers in my mouth and my eyes cross a tiny bit when I follow Momma’s instructions and start piddling into teddy, the plastic potty instantly giving me away with the pattering and splashing noises echoing up from it. 

“That’s it, baby,” Momma coos, withdrawing her hand from my mouth, unzipping her fly and letting her big, hard cock bounce free, aiming it towards my open lips, “let it all out for Momma, that’s my good baby.” She strokes herself to the sound of my stream, twitching in her hand when I shudder with relief. As my stream slows and only one unsatisfied need remains, I lean forward, pressing the buzzing Tinkle Teddy firmly against my pee pee and latch onto Momma’s grown-up stiffie.

It’s Momma’s turn to close her eyes and gasp as I nurse the tip of her throbbing cock, throwing her head back and trying not to thrust into her baby’s mouth, not removing her own hand from her length, since I’m too little to do anything other than suckle gently at her tip.

She keeps stroking and I keep humping, her most recent gift driving us both to the edge.

[thecameronchronicles]

Beg

TW: Smut. DIRTY TALK. Language. Public sexual acts. Dom!Rudy. 

SUMMARY: A cast Christmas party sends you and Rudy in a game of seduction, all to see who will break first... 

WORD COUNT: 3000

REQUESTED

Pankowperfection asked

Can I get a super super super teasing Rudy/JJ (up to you who) but I’m talking like lots of dirty talk, lots of build up, touching but not enough to get you anywhere, and he just won’t give in until you beg for it. And when he finally gives in he just absolutely wrecks you 🙈

Thanks in advance, love your work so so much ❤️ 

Beg 

The games of seduction had begun even before you left your shared apartment. A simple dress, nearly a sheet over the figure that wore his fingerprints well, had kept him at bay in the doorway of the bathroom. But just as he struggled to keep himself from pinning you to the bed and giving you both an excuse for being late, you fought that same pulsation between your legs. All because of the way he kept those two buttons open at the top of his dress shirt and those eyes trained to you with the usual mischief dripping in the descent of his gaze. 

"Goddamn..." He groaned as you bent over him to reach your necklace set beside the sink. Both purposely and purposefully, you set it in his line of sight. This silent invitation of needing his assistance, although you could have connected the clasp quickly and securely, was enough of an initiation for him to understand as he cocked his jaw. 

"We COULD show up a bit later..." He spoke against your neck as you smirked. 

"That's what you said for Drew's party...we STILL have to give him the gift that got left on the table..." He bit his bottom lip in the memory of how that very gift was forced to the floor as he rutted into you on the table's surface. 

"Maybe just a kiss then? To hold me over?" 

"And THAT is what you said for the Halloween party we didn't get to..." 

"Not my fault you decided not to wear panties under your costume..." He guided your face to him as your back had remained pressed to his chest. Your eyes locked to his as he teased your lips with a kiss, only to taunt you. 

"Not a complaint..." 

"You only knew that because it was more than a kiss...like it always is..." You teased as he nodded. But he was indifferent to any words as his fingers were already in a crusade down your curves. If his touch didn't promise that incomparable release, you would have been able to push him off of you so easily. But the memory of each and every sensation he left behind was enough to send your eyes closed while you felt him grin in victory against your cheek. 

"Any chance you're wearing the same thing as that night?" But just before he would learn of the consistent choice of going commando, you withdrew from his fingers. 

"We have to make an appearance." 

"No promises I'll keep my hands to myself...I WILL find out, baby..." 

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't." You teased a kiss and left his proximity and therefore the ability for him to pull you back to bed as you moved to the car. His hand was immediate in the parting of your legs. But the way you tightened your thighs had been enough of a reason for him to learn this had been an initiation of your game. 

"The harder you fight it.. the easier it will be to see my effect on you.. " He explained in your ear as he slipped the coat from your shoulders. 

"Even easier since there's no obstructions..." You turned to face him, finding his eyes already dilated to optimum intrigue as he tensed his teeth while your fingers ran up the lines of his muscles visible beneath the tight fabric. 

"It would be so easy for you to just slip your fingers inside of me at any time...but they don't have us sitting next to each other...Guess you’ll have to wait and behave…" You explained when noticing how they had the couples sitting across from one another instead. 

"I don't need my fingers...my foot can do enough.. " To this, you feigned surrender, before kissing his cheek to act as if you were parting. 

"Oh, but I much prefer your tongue..." You slipped away taking your seat, as he glared in your cruel distance. 

Through dinner, you both teased conversational intrigue in your friends, while using it as a means of a distraction to each other. Where you wanted to make an excuse to find release in the closest closed door, you found the delayed gratification that much more satisfying in knowing that release would be that much more worth it. He seemed to share this as those dazzling blue irises only darkness with lust whenever he caught you looking at him or you found him ready devoting his focus to you. 

"Present time!" Madelyn exclaimed in the beginning of the secret Santa exchange she has orchestrated synonymous to the previous year. But as the gifts had been opened, Drew gifting Austin some custom drumsticks and Carlacia having given Chase a set of concert tickets from one of his favorite bands, you focused solely on Rudy. The way his hands pulled your hips into his lap, enough to feel the gift you would unwrap later. 

"You move even a centimeter and I'll make sure they see what's so fucking tempting about making us late all the time." He threatened over your shoulder as you smirked, 'adjusting'. 

"All those little noises you make for me..." He traced circles on your thigh. Unabashed boldness in each motion as you were tempted to shift and pull him higher. The need for his touch was growing by every torturous second of the small kisses made on the back of your shoulder. But it was the gaze of his teeth that altered those borderline sweet thoughts to ones where you were both dripping with sweat. 

"Do you think they know how hard you can take me? How you're willing to make me come whenever? Wherever?" Your eyes rolled shamelessly, in complete disregard to anyone who could see. Luckily, nobody seemed ro. 

"Do you think they know you like it from behind with your hair pulled and your ass slapped until you can't sit for days?" 

"Rudy..." You took hold of his wrist. 

"I swear to God I could make you come right here on my thigh. You wanna ride it don't you?" You slowly nodded. 

"I can feel how wet you are for me just sitting on my leg....guess I know the answer about those panties..." 

"Rudy?" Drew addressed him as you were parted as he orchestrated some festive game among friends. Trivia turned into reminiscent remarks and stories of this latest season of filming. But with alcohol holding an effect on your shared group of friends, you were able to act out in brazen necessity. Even if this only meant you were set at his side with a leg wrapped over his thigh, fingers dancing on his chest, and a breath in his ear. It was enough for you both to be near breaking weak. 

"You regret it don't you?" He asked, turning to face you as you had been fully consumed by lust. Prior to now, you hid everything being a smirk or falling gazes. But now, you were doing everything but grinding into him. Even teasing his neck with your tongue between kisses that climbed and descended along his skin. 

"Hmm?" Your vibrations made his dimples form in a quick grin. 

"Coming?" 

"Could have fucked you out of that dress by now, better yet, in it..." 

"Rudy-" 

"You're getting a bit desperate aren't you baby? Still want my tongue?" You nodded as you watched him lead your hand to his lips. But instead of offering any form of release, he was sweet. A kiss set on the outskirts of a recent fist had only been taunted by a brush of his tongue. 

"Rudy..." You softly berated him, doing so as more of a whine than a means to scold him. 

"You wanted to be the one to make an appearance. So you better keep them up. No matter how fucking desperate you are for me to get you off right now. You don't get to feel anything until you beg me for it." 

"Please..." 

He scoffed, "Not that easy baby...I mean on your knees. Looking up at me like you know I like..." 

"Then let's go home." 

"Not yet-" 

"Rudy...." 

"You made me wait. Torturing me in this little dress you know won't survive the night the second we're alone. All those dirty little words and eyes shooting to my cock, yeah baby, I noticed." You swallowed hard with anticipation. 

"And your little teasing. Yeah baby...I'm gonna make this one last..." He pulled you from his lap and kept a distance from you until it was time to dance. Prior to the reconnection, however, his eyes remained on you at every point within the party. 

"You want me to beg?" You asked as his hands stayed at your hips while you swayed beneath . His body breaking weak from his aforementioned stubbornness by your motions alone. Your chest colliding with his own in gentle rest and retraction with the breathlessness of a dance move. The taunt of your fingers drawing sultry lines down his tight chest. And the glide of your curved ass against his seam, perpetually tight whenever you were present. 

"Baby-" 

"Careful, Rudy...sounds like you're the one who is about to beg..." 

"You sound better when you do..." He explained as you smirked, feeling him almost cower into you as his nails embedded into your curves as you turned back to face him. 

"You want me to beg for you baby?" You asked into his ear. "I thought you liked to hear it  when I was riding you..." 

"You better-" 

"Stop? Why would I do that when you're so hard. My God, baby...you could split me in half..." 

"I tend to." You moved to and from him in continued seductions of this dance before crossing a line. Covered by the darkness of the VIP area of the club, you lifted your dress just high enough to expose your bare ass. Turning to observe him fully, you saw him advancing towards you. 

"Enough of your fucking teasing." He growled before pulling you towards your group of friends at the bar. 

"Gotta go teach this little vixen a lesson." You berated his words as he slapped you on the ass. You were pulled from the club and to his car, unable to reach for the handle before you were thrust up against the door. 

"I might not have your hips to torment you with like you know they do to me. But I have my own methods..." He teased while turning you to face the car. 

"You're gonna wanna hold onto something." He explained while dropping to his knees. 

"Rudy-" 

He slapped your ass. "You only get to scream my name from here on out. Anything else and I'll just use you to make up for teasing me all night..." He bit into your exposed cheek in a playful grip as you smirked. 

"Let me make you feel good. I don't want to have to be mean..." You responded in the moan forced as a result of his tongue taking you from behind. Your opening left quivering as he moaned to that familiar taste. He would bend you forward to reach your clit, his tongue reminding you why it was a favored expansion of him. 

"That's it baby, ride my tongue like you've wanted to all night." You rushed your hand through his hair, pulling on the tousled strands from your recent dance, as he smirked against you. 

"Rudy-" 

"Had enough?" He patronized as you nodded. 

He stood behind you, but only to now move to the driver's side of the car. 

"Get in." 

You obeyed, but became confused as he had begun to drive. Without caring to wipe you from his mouth, he beamed with pride while pulling from the lot and toward your apartment. As your fingers began to climb to silence the lack of satisfaction he abandoned, he hit your hand away. 

"You touch anything wet and you don't get to come at all tonight baby." 

"Rudy!" 

"You could have been taken care of before even going to the party and you insisted...and you kept wanting to play games...so now...you're going to endure MY turn." 

"I'm so wet..." 

"I'm well aware. And sweet, too." He licked his lips as the car came to a rest. He moved to the door promptly, taking his time with the keys as you reached to kiss him. But he would only push you against the door with the weight of his body. 

"I want this dress off in two seconds flat-" Your eyes looked to the open hallway. 

"Someone could see, Rudy..." 

"It's only fair to warn them, 'cause they're definitely going to hear you baby, all night long." He pressed his palms to the door. 

"Now. Off." You swallowed hard before obliging. The satin fell ignored at your ankles as he turned you to the door. 

"You're making a mess already and I haven't even been inside of you yet..." He scoffed. 

"Fingers. Please, Rudy." 

"I think you're wet enough...God knows you're already desperate for it." You groaned. "Don't worry…I'm not gonna make you wait another second." The door came open and closed in the same force. Your body was taken to the counter set just off center of the entrance as you were bent over the surface. 

"Please!" He growled to your plea. 

"THAT is all I want to hear. You don't even have to tell me how good it feels...you squirting will do that...and you don't have to tell me when you're coming because I know that clench and those sounds better than anything else...But," The climb his hands made as he spoke now stationed sphere he pleased. The dominant grasp on your neck tightened in dominance as the second unclasped and disposed of your bra as you were left completely bare for him. 

"Don't get me wrong. I still want to hear it." He bent you forward, his belt disconnected from its buckle as his cock was removed and set at a tease. 

"You want it like this?" You clawed into the countertop, "I don't even have to ask, do I?" He breathed a single quick exhale as he bottomed out within you in a sole swallow made by your sex. 

"Fuck!" 

"Beg for it. Beg for it like you've been doing all night. But this time, with my cock already buried inside you." His fingers moved from your hip to your hair as he pulled you flush against his chest. That gripped remained as he undressed, leaving a few fumbled thrusts before he began a steady pace. 

"Yes! Please Rudy! Please fuck me!" 

"Oh, I will sweetheart." He growled into your shoulder before pounding into you. Your body was left in the evidence of each cruel grip and pained trace. He was every bit an animal as his teasing words had threatened. But still in such a way that brought pleasure beyond pain. You transcended and descended by his command, his fingers at your clit bringing the pleasure the quick tease of retraction would then deny. Your pleas would be the only sound to interrupt the slap of skin to skin until his abrupt withdrawal had you removed from your ecstasy. 

"Bedroom." He explained as you were lifted around him. But you weren't taken to the bed. Instead, the wall would be a means of support as he rooted himself into you by sinking you onto his cock. A hand to the back of your neck kept you in place as he groaned into you. 

"Acting like you never get fucked like this, guess I'll have to have you every way so I can jog your memory, baby." You gasped as he deepened his sensations. Where you came down to his base, taking his cock in fulfillment, his lips were at a tender appreciation of your breasts. But as you'd be lofted every so often, he silenced you in deep French kisses. 

"Done teasing me?" 

"For today." You smirked as he growled before taking you to the bed. 

"I can't get enough of this ass." He smacked the inflamed skin, raised from previous strikes, as you nodded. 

"Please!" 

"Wanna come this way?" You nodded. 

"Headboard. Now." You climbed to it, feeling his fingers interlace iver yours before he began again. Only now with vulgar depth and ungodly speed. The headboard was in competition to your waist in a consistent collision with his while you called for him. To stop. To go faster. To make you come. To not let it stop. You didn't know what you were begging for, but whatever it was, you were desperate for it. 

"Don't you wanna come for me?" 

"I am!" 

"Not how I want. Harder. Squiet all over your side of the bed baby...that way you remember, even sleeping, how I will win your little games every time." Your fingers wrapped harder around the metal as he made your eyes roll to that first rush of pleasure. 

"Keep coming!" 

"Rudy!" 

"Soak our sheets baby.. let me see how badly you've wanted this-" 

"PLEASE! PLEASSSEE!" 

"Look at that!" He forced your head to witness that sporadic spray. 

"Ru-dd-yyy!" You stuttered at the sight. 

"Oh my God, that's so fucking hot..I need to come inside you right now." 

"Yes!" 

"But only if you so that again...for me baby, keep squirting." Your eyes screwed closed. Overstimulation causing a discomfort, quickly quelled by a second orgasm rushing forward. 

"Beg one more time baby...one more time for me." He asked breathlessly as he fisted the headboard with white knuckles before shooting into you as you acquiesced. 

But the second you stilled, you were taken to the edge of the bed. 

"You've had a dirty mouth all night. Think it should be cleaned..." He motioned to his cock. Glistening with shared slick, you licked your lips and cleaned him off, furthering his own stimulation as he flexed into you. Wincing to the excess of pleasure before pulling you back to his mouth. 

"You're in for a long night." 

"Please..." You welcomed his threat with a mirrored smirk from his own as you were taken onto your back. 

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

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[veronicaphoenix]

IKIGAI (or A REASON FOR BEING) — CHAPTER ELEVEN

“The one who falls in love with you is gonna be very lucky,” she assured him. “It’s a shame it’s not going to be me. I’m taking our promise to the grave.”

Chapter tags: best friends, graduation, referenced alcohol intake, sexual innuendos, angst, slight comfort amidst the drama. | Word count: 4.151 |Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*

CHAPTER 11

Lia is 18. Noah is 19.

Lia looked down at the white stilettos adorning her feet. She bit her lip and after too much thought, she shook her head and let the fabric of the dress fall.

“No, I can’t wear this. I’ll be more comfortable with my boots,” she declared, her voice showing a hint of nervousness.

“Lia, my dear,” said Hana with a raised brow. She was standing behind Lia, her reflection also there in the mirror but slightly shorter than Lia’s. “You cannot wear your old boots to your prom.” 

“Of course I can,” she replied, lifting her head to make eye contact with the old lady through the reflection in the mirror. “No one will notice. The dress is long enough to cover them.”

Not really. There was a slit on the side that revealed most of her leg. Whoever would put their eyes on her would instantly notice her black boots.

“That’s not the point, sweetie,” Hana gently argued, slumping her shoulders and looking sweetly at Lia. 

She knew Lia was nervous and feeling shy. It was the first time she was getting dressed formally. It had taken her weeks of going to different shops and finding a dress that she liked and that she felt comfortable in. The one that she finally chose had been taken to the tailors to fit her frame, and now that she was wearing it in her bedroom, standing in front of the mirror, Lia became self-conscious as it showcased the curves of her breasts in the delicate V-neck. The dress was plain but beautiful, and the thin straps accentuated the elegance of the gown. Lia hadn’t wanted to overdo herself too much; she was excited at the fact that she graduated, but not that much about the party. She was happy about not having to attend any more classes and deal with high school bullshit. She would start a course on graphic design after summer, something that had her quite excited, and she would keep on selling her own stuff online. 

“I don’t even know how to walk on those,” she said, a bit sad as she wobbled slightly trying to find her balance. She shot Hana a look of uncertainty.

“You learn, Lia. Why don’t you take a walk along the hallway?” Hana suggested, encouraging her.

“That’s going to be useless,” Lia complained, but she did take a few steps around the room, circling her queen-sized bed. “At the end of the night my feet are going to be dead.”

“You’ll have to get used to it. What would you wear on your wedding day, then? Or in…?

Lia turned to face Hana with her brows raised.

"I'm not getting married," she declared, her tone unintentionally sharp. Hana seemed taken aback by the unexpected response, and Lia quickly softened her expression. "Or at least I don't want to think about that now."

“Alright. It makes sense,” Hana replied, choosing not to press the matter further.

“I’ll give them a try, though,” Lia conceded. “I’ll just ask Noah to keep my boots in the car in case I need to change.”

“That’s a good idea. Now come on, the boys are waiting downstairs.”

“Great,” Lia couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “As if this wasn’t embarrassing enough…”

“They’re eager to see you.”

Maybe, but the idea of being the center of attention didn’t appeal much to her, especially if she was dressed like that.

She took one last look at herself in the mirror. The dress was beautiful, it hugged her delicate curves, and it was light. She was wearing makeup enough to prove that she had tried, and her hair was falling on her back and chest with little curls at the ends. Hana had helped her to get ready, taking advantage of the feelings that rose whenever she was with Lia. She never had a granddaughter, and Lia, despite not sharing the same blood, was the closest that she would ever have to one.

Seated comfortable on the living room sofa, the guys waited for her. Jolly, Noah and Nicholas had been the ones to decide to go with her to the prom. Jesse and Matt had previous appointments and couldn’t make it, and Folio had gone on a fishing trip with his dad. Not that Lia minded too much. It had been Jolly’s idea to follow her to the party. She would have preferred to go alone, endure the silly dance and annoying speeches on her own, but he had insisted otherwise, and had successfully persuaded Noah and Nicholas to tag along.

Jolly was casually indulging in a bag of chips while Nicholas remained engrossed in his phone. Between them, Noah exuded an air of nonchalance, lounging in an apathetic posture �� slouched, legs wide, arms resting on his thighs, and hands dangling. It was one of the only times he had worn a formal shirt, and he felt uncomfortable. His gaze wandered aimlessly around the room, but his thoughts were singularly focused. A subtle tic in one of his legs persisted until Lia appeared at the top of the stairs, at which point it miraculously ceased.

His eyes went to her, and he swore his heartbeat stopped for a second or two. Next to him, Jolly whistled after leaving the bag of chips on the table between the tv and the sofa, and then he stood up. Nicholas followed, and Noah had to be patted on the shoulder by one of his friends to react and do the same.

Lia rolled her eyes at Jolly’s whistle, but the warmth that spread across her cheeks betrayed her attempt to appear unfazed. She avoided looking at the boys as she made her way downstairs in delicate steps, followed by Hana, who was making sure the soft fabric of Lia’s gown trailing behind was not getting stuck anywhere. As Lia reached the ground floor and finally lifted her head, her eyes met Noah's. There was something in the way he looked at her that sent a pleasant shiver down her spine, making her heartbeat quicken.

He was looking so… handsome. His hair was tied in a small bun at the back of his head and he struggled to straighten the black button-up shirt he was wearing. He licked his lips, and she would never know how much it cost him to smile at her through the knot in his stomach.

“That’s a very nice dress,” Nicholas told her.

The room fell into an awkward stillness until Hana intervened, ushering them towards the door before they risked being late. Lia couldn't help but voice her concern.

"Guys, I know you have better plans than coming with me. If you want to stay and…”

“I thought we were done discussing this,” Jolly chimed in. “I even bought a tie and I feel proud of myself.”

Lia snorted at his comment and shook her head, her hair swaying around her bare shoulders.

Jolly and Nicholas made their way out towards the car, and Noah came to stand beside her.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, it’s just a bit difficult to walk with these on,” she confessed gesturing to her heels.

“I bet…” he muttered, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You look beautiful, though.”

A big smile crept into her face as a surge of warmth spread through her at his words.

“Thank you.”

He extended his arm to her, and she gladly took it.

The girls Lia was talking to in the middle of the gym’s dancefloor weren’t her friends, not really. But she had managed to become acquainted with them in her last years in high school and had a good relationship with them. She knew she would probably never see them again after that night. Most of them were going to college and she wasn’t.

They had been discussing their future plans and studies when one of them noticed Jolly entering the gym and striding confidently straight to the corner were Noah and Nicholas were standing, looking slightly out of place, obviously, holding their glasses with cheap ponche in their inked hands. The girls didn’t know the guys. They had never talked to them, but they knew how close Lia was to those guys, specially the tall one, who had been giving her rides to school every morning for the last few months.

Amidst the chatter, one of the girls casually said:

“It’s actually so hot to see tattooed guys in formal clothing”.

Lia's ears perked up, sensing the topic might be heading in an interesting direction. In a matter of seconds, she realized they were referring to Noah, Jolly, and Nicholas. An involuntary blush crept up her cheeks, and she stole a quick glance at the trio, praying that they weren’t looking in their direction.

Noah was.

“You’re definitely not the only one thinking that,” Clara pointed out, aiming her painted eyes at Lia. “You’re blushing, Lia.”

She huffed, attempting to play it off.

“They’re my friends,” she replied, taking a sip of her Fanta. “I don’t want to think about them that way.”

“Oh, come on.” The teasing had just started, and Neha probed: “You’re telling me you’ve never thought about Noah as something more than your best friend? I don’t believe that crap.” 

Lia felt a twist inside at the directness of the question. Maybe, just maybe, she had entertained such thoughts, but admitting it out loud was a line she wasn't ready to cross. Determined to deflect the conversation, she replied, "No, I haven’t. Believe whatever you want."

Feeling a sudden need for space, Lia excused herself and made her way out of the gym, the hum of the music fading as she walked to the nearest restroom. Alone with her thoughts, she took a deep breath, glancing at herself in the mirror. Her reflection revealed a mix of excitement and uncertainty that she didn’t really like. She splashed some water on her face, hoping the cool sensation would clear her mind.

As she stepped outside and rejoined the party and the twinkling lights, the rhythmic beats of the music and the chatter of excited voices, Lia felt a presence approaching her, and she didn’t understand why she was disapointed when she heard a a voice she didn’t recognize calling her name.

Lia found herself face to face with a boy from her class. His name, if she recalled correctly, was Matt, someone she'd exchanged mere pleasantries with during group projects but never really engaged in a substantial conversation.

"Hey," he greeted, a nervous smile playing on his lips. “I’m glad to see you here. You look lovely.”

“Thanks,” she replied, her gaze shifting to take in his appearance.

He wasn’t so bad, either. His navy-blue suit clung elegantly to his long frame, and his tousled hair, expertly styled with a touch of cream, added a dash of sophistication. The passage of time had not been lost on any of them; they, including the rest of classmates, had all undergone a transformation from awkward teenagers to young adults in the last couple of years, some evolving more rapidly than others.

“I never thought I would see you in a dress,” he confessed, his eyes subtly scanning her up and down.

Caught off guard by the remark, she felt a flush creeping into her cheeks, though not as pronounced as when she had shown herself to the boys back at home.

“Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” Matt hastily clarified. “It’s just that… I saw you there and…”

“It’s ok. No problem, really.”

“Um, would you like to dance, maybe?”

She took a moment to assess the situation, considering the unspoken tension with Noah and the boys watching from the sidelines. Nevertheless, a desire to break away from the familiar prompted her to respond with a grin.

"Why not?" she replied, allowing a playful tone to lace her words. "Lead the way, Matt."

The dance floor beckoned, bathed in the soft glow of the changing-color lights. Matt guided Lia into the open space, the music providing the backdrop to their momentum. As they began to move to the rhythm, Lia stole a glance over her shoulder, locking eyes with Noah and her friends.

In that moment, amidst the dance and the pulsating beat of the music and as she twirled under Matt’s arm, Lia found herself caught between the known and the unknown, her heart dancing to a melody that echoed the unexplored depths of her feelings, that traced back to a promise made in the shore of the lake where she used to spend her afternoons as a teenager.

Meanwhile, Noah and the guys engaged in a conversation, their voices a low hum beneath the lively ambiance of the prom. Jolly, his mouth occupied with a sandwich, glanced at Noah and noticed a serious expression etched on his face.

“Why the long face, man?” Jolly inquired casually, his attention momentarily diverted as he reached for another sandwich from a tray.

“That moron is looking at her like he wants to eat her up,” he added, nonchalantly observing the dynamics unfolding on the dance floor, the way Matt’s hand was positioned on Lia’s lower back.

“Maybe that’s exactly what he wants,” Nick chimed in, his tone carrying a hint of mischief.

Turning his face to him, Noah shot him a killer look.

“Whoa,” Nick muttered, taking a step back at Noah’s sudden intensity.

“Man, what?” replied Jolly, raising an eyebrow as he opened his hand in a gesture of innocence. “You gotta stop being so overprotective. She’s eighteen. Let her live her life. She deserves it, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I just don’t want any motherfucker to break her heart. That’s all,” he admitted, his gaze fixed again on Lia and how alluring and beautiful she looked.

He had slowly started to notice her changes in the last few years, and he couldn’t ignore the woman that she was becoming, not just in the physical sense but also when it came to her mindset. She was more strong-willed than she’d even been, more confident, and the most important, happier.

“Sure it is…” Jolly mumbled with a knowing smirk as he moved to gather more food.

It was him who, a while later, went to find Lia and took her back to the dancefloor given that Matt had lost interest in her after ten minutes in the dancefloor. Lia actually held a power in her eyes that allowed her to communicate things without the need to speak, and Matt got the clue that she wasn’t interested in anything more than this night’s dance, and that he shouldn’t push her further.

When Jolly reached to where she was standing and she accepted her hand to walk back to the dancefloor, he noticed she was unable to keep her balance.

“Are those shoes already making you hate patriarchy a bit more than usual?”

“Definitely,” she replied. “But it’s not that.”

“What is it, then?”

"The girls brought alcohol. They’re hiding it in one of the classrooms... And I might have had a couple of vodka shots," Lia confessed, a touch of guilt accompanying her admission. She scrunched her nose as she looked at him.

Jolly's expression shifted to a mix of surprise and mild disappointment. "Lia... Are you serious?" he asked.

"No. I mean, yes. But I’m okay," Lia reassured, her words slightly slurred as she fought off the dizziness induced by the impromptu shots. "Just feeling a bit dizzy. Can you keep holding me?"

In that moment, Jolly found himself torn between scolding her for the reckless choices and acknowledging her vulnerable state and the fact that she could be spotted by any of the teachers. Without a word, he tightened his grip on her.The distant hum of the prom music, the soft glow of the lights, and the clandestine undertones of a high school celebration merged into a tableau of contrasts, where carefree moments met with a subtle undercurrent of responsibility.

Noah kept looking from afar, feeling something strange. Surely it was the proud feeling of seeing his best friend graduating, increased by the fact that he didn’t. 

“Has something happened? He looks upset,” Lia asked Jolly after noticing Noah’s attitude. 

Jolly kept his hands on her, steadying her. His eyes had been scanning the room, praying that no adults had their eyes on her.

“No. I think he’s just bored,” he answered a few seconds after, guiding his gaze to Noah. Then, lowering his voice, he said, “but I’m starting to think he likes this girl and he’s not having the balls to tell her.”

Lia, who was still seeking stability on his embrace despite the fact that his grip was enough to keep her from tumbling to the sides, raised her chin to look him in the eye. He was nearly as tall as Noah. It was a good thing she was wearing heels today, after all.

“What girl? He hasn’t told me anything.”

Jolly didn’t say anything, but it was in those two seconds that he spent looking deep into her brown eyes that he knew that his two friends were in for a ride. Oh, oh. If he only knew what was yet to come…

“Jolly, what girl?” She insisted.

He just kept on staring at her.

“Okay. I’m going to ask him myself,” she determined, but the moment she slipped away from Jolly’s grasp, she stumbled, and Jolly had to rush to hold her by the arm.

“Alright, kitten. I think we need to get you home.”

“I will go say goodbye to the girls, then,” as she turned around, she felt something going up her stomach and throat and her head started spinning. The music and the movement around her weren’t helping. “Oh, my god.”

“Let’s go outside before you puke, Lia. Come on.”

He held her close to him and help her get to the boys. Her vision was getting blurrier with every step she took, and the moment she reached Nicholas and Noah, she didn’t see the furrowed brows of his best friend and how he shot a glance at Jolly, a question in his expression, before she collapsed in his arms.

“Lia, what the hell?”

“I’m drunk,” she admitted, wrapping her arms around Noah’s body.

“Shit,” Nicholas muttered.

“We need to get out of here before the teachers notice,” Noah declared, already making his way to the exit while carrying Lia’s body glued to his. She started to laugh, and the laugh followed them home. Her state got worse as the car ride started. She was suddenly adamant on playing some songs in the car at full volume and kept unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning forward to touch the radio buttons while Noah kept grabbing her waist and pulling her back. At some point, she removed her shoes and let her head fall on Noah’s lap, only to be put back up with the words “if you lay down you might puke.” She didn’t feel like puking anymore. Everything was suddenly vibrant and exciting!

By the time they made it home and they stumbled wearily through the front door, the soft glow of the porch light revealed Lia’s disheveled appearance. Her hair was messed up and she was a laughing mess, too, but despite the chaotic journey, a stroke of luck had spared Lia (and the boys) from puking in the backseat, leaving her in a state of inebriated merriment.

Barefoot and exposed to the frigid touch of the concrete driveway at those hours, Noah, hiding his exhausting in a playful smile, suggested giving her a piggy ride, and she quickly clambered onto his back.

“This is so much fun! Everything looks different from up here!”

Noah, with a bemused roll of his eyes, secured her in his grasp, hands firmly gripping her thighs. Together and following Jolly and Nicholas, they ventured into the interior of the house, the raucous laughter fading into the background as they navigated the threshold between the night's chaos and the domestic tranquility within their home.

“I’ll put her to bed,” Noah said to the boys with a confidence that masked a flicker of uncertainty within.

“She’ll be okay?” Nicholas asked from behind him, still a shadow in the doorway.

"Yeah," Noah responded, though the reassurance carried a subtle undercurrent of hope rather than certainty. With that, he squeezed his inebriated cargo’s left thigh to get a confirmation giggle from her before proceeding to climb up the stairs.

“Why don’t you give me piggy rides more often?” Lia asked, perched comfortably on Noah’s back.

“You just have to ask,” he answered her, navigating his way to her bedroom.

“Okay, I’ll pay you back by riding you later,” she quipped, and pressed her cheek against his shoulder, oblivious to the sudden tension that gripped her best friend.

Noah’s blood froze momentarily, and his gaze shifted to the living room below, where Nicholas and Jolly exchanged amused glances, having overheard Lia’s comment. The irony wasn’t lost of them as it was on her, given that she was already “riding” Noah on his back.

“She’s so gone,” Nicholas commented, shaking his head.

Noah let out a sigh and kept on moving up until he managed to get her to her room with the weight of her intoxicated comment lingering as they reached her room.

Once there, he gently deposited her on the bed, her smile still present amidst the haze of her inebriation. Noah, looking down at her, decided it was time for a change – a literal one.

"You're so taaaaaaall," she exclaimed as Noah’s figure bent over her. “When did you get so tall?”

“A couple of summers’ ago. Come on up,” he helped her sit up, the drawl of admiration for his height still floating in her big eyes.

He eyed her, considering the options to get her to change into her pj’s. She was obviously not wearing a bra under that dress, and the realization made him sigh, desperate.

Such a torture. 

Noah gently coaxed Lia to her feet, his fingers intertwining with hers as he guided her to a standing position. As they stood in the quiet intimacy of her room, he laid out his plan with a touch of considerate reassurance, "I'm going to unzip your dress, and then I'll turn around, okay? I'll go and get a t-shirt in the meanwhile. Will you be able to put it on yourself?"

"Yeah, I think so," Lia replied, a hint of stability returning to her voice even as her body swayed with the remnants of the night's revelry. "I keep my sleeping shirt on the second… or third… or fourth drawer, I think."

While Lia stepped out of the dress, Noah retrieved one of the t-shirts Lia used to sleep in, and walked back to her, and even though he tried to avoid intruding on her moment of vulnerability, his side eye discreetly caught a glimpse of her semi naked figure, her long hair falling on her bare back.

“There,” with his back to hers, he handed her the t-shirt. He remained a steadfast presence behind her, respecting her privacy with a careful averted gaze.

"My head is spinning," she confessed as she slid the clothing piece over her head and down her body.

"I know, you should have kept it lighter," Noah replied.

He turned around at the same time she did, and his fingers instinctively went to her, sweeping away loose strands of hair that had fallen on her face. The gentle gesture made Lia close her eyes momentarily and hum.

 “You want to go to the bathroom and wash your face, remove the make-up?”

“I’m too tired,” she complained, her pout revealing the weariness that clung to her.  

“That’s okay,” Noah reassured her with a comforting tone. “You can shower tomorrow morning and sort yourself out. Let’s get you to bed. I’ll come in a while and leave an ibuprofen and a glass of water by the bed for you to take when you wake up tomorrow.”

With a nod, she made herself comfortable under her bedsheets, bought recently in a shopping spree after she had sold a bunch of designs online in a row.

“Noah,” she called as he was patting the covers over her. A loose strand of hair had escaped from his bun and was hanging lose close to her face. She would have liked to tuck it behind his ear, but she had already hidden her hands under the sheets.

“Yeah?” His voice was a mere whisper in the night.

“The one who falls in love with you is gonna be very lucky,” she assured him. “It’s a shame it’s not going to be me. I’m taking our promise to the grave.”

With a smile, she turned to the side, pressed her face to her pillow, and closed her eyes.

[alexanderlightweight]

Happy Wednesday!

A prompt idea: jace *tries* to move into magnus' home. It does not go as he assumed

Thanks! I love reading your prompt fills ♥️

It was a happy wednesday!

thank you, i hope you enjoy this one as well

<3 lumine

-

Magnus stares at Jace, someone who he’s tried to get along with despite the blonde’s… everything. Someone who he allowed entry into his wards for specific reasons of emergencies and emergencies only.

Alexander is staring at Jace with the shock that Magnus feels, a bit of tender vulnerability and a spark of Magnus’ own fury. It’s that cold shard of anger that Magnus lets unlock his own fury.

“Why would you need a spare room?” Alexander asks, voice raspy from just the kisses and emotions they’ve shared.

“Aldertree’s got me on ichor duty, Alec.” Jace tells them, voice thick with disdain. “He’s never going to trust me; I’m going to be stuck there forever.”

“You’ve decided that in the what, few hours since you’ve been demoted that you can’t handle it?” Alexander looks frustrated, upset and furious all at once and Magnus wishes again that he’d never let Jace through his most intimate wards.

“A few hours? Alec, I’m one of the best the clave has, and they have me on ichor duty! How does this make sense?”

“And being demoted from leading an Institute I’d run for almost five year made sense, Jace?” Alexander is cold, his voice clipped and toneless. “If you’re looking for sympathy, I don’t know why you’d expect to find it here. Not when you and Izzy and Clary have made it clear none of you care about what caused my demotion.”

“And that, is where I step in. Because I think you forget, blondie, that while Alexander does belong here, you do not. The invitation I once allowed you is now rescinded. This is not a hostel for you to stay in and you will not be able to find my home again so easily.” Magnus doesn’t care to hear from Jace further and he sends him out of the loft with a flash of magic.

The wards reseal around Jace as if he were never welcome and he never will be again. Not when he’s assumed so much of Magnus and Magnus is not one to be taken advantage of.

Not for a very long time.

His father taught him that lesson well.

“Will you forgive me, Alexander?” Magnus asks, completely insincere as he turns to his boy and Alexander is biting back a smile, something pleased in the exhausted lines of his face.

“What is there to forgive?” Alexander murmurs and he snuggles into Magnus’ embrace with a sigh of what seems to be relief.

Magnus is pleased, despite the fact that he doubted Alexander would truly be upset, not after how Jace so clearly disregarded the losses Alexander had experienced in Jace and Clary’s wake.

“This is a place for us, my darling.” Magnus promises into the curve of Alexander’s neck, “it is for us to learn each other—” Magnus runs his hand along Alexander’s back and around to his ribs. “Not for us to be interrupted in.”

Alexander clutches him close and gives a tired little sigh of relief into Magnus’ hair.

“So, you’ll take us away?”

“This instant, Alexander.” Magnus promises and he relocates the loft into the heart of Brooklyn and his territory in an instant. This new space has a lovely view of a park and a rooftop with an extra-dimensional pocket.

It’s the best place to take Alexander and it’s the best place to keep him.

Magnus is well aware of the power struggle in not only Idris, but in the New York Institute and how badly it’s affecting his boy.  If things keep going the way they are, then Magnus might have to find a way to keep Alexander safely tucked away, with him. Far away from the machinations of people who care nothing for him.

[jackalproject]

Howdy everyone! It's me again. Can you believe it's been a month? I certainly can’t. It's wild how quickly time flies when you’re busy lol.

I once again unfortunately don’t have much for this update. I had the unthinkable happen to me and had my art tablet throw itself off a cliff and had to switch to a new one I had laying around from a friend who was moving out and graciously gave to me.

On top of learning how to use a much more advanced tablet, I also realized something: I am so incredibly spatially unaware that I am going to either need to learn how to use blender or hire someone else to do the backgrounds, but I am poor and can’t afford that unfortunately. But this is why I made the test comics: so I’m figuring this shit out before I actually have to tell a meaningful story. This just means we’ll be waiting a little longer than I intended for the first test comic issue unfortunately, while I figure this crap out.

I have also learned that attempting to not do shortcut shading doesn’t work for me and I will never do it again lol. It has been whats bogging this down.

Not to fret though! Since you all voted in a poll a week or two ago to have every issue be released as they are made, you’ll be getting it a lot sooner than you thought! And here is a little bit of the cover for the two test comic issues (I couldn’t find it in me to make two separate ones, so I just made one. The first issue is literally 3 pages.)

No ones here to hear me air my grievances about the fact I have only been able to get 3 pages done in a month, but in my defense: I don’t have my own device (I share it with my father who works full time), I have travelled a lot, and I have literally no idea what I’m doing. So here's some doodles to make up for that, and a link to the Happy Birthday Barry post in case you missed it.

Oh did I forget to mention that Barry is in this project? Yeah, they’re here.

Onto the actual progress update!

TEST COMICS: Scripts complete, Issues in progress

PART ONE: Script complete, final concept art in progress

PART TWO: Scripts begun

PART THREE: Storyboard in progress

SCHEDULED RELEASES: Test Comics Issue 1, PUSHED BACK to Early April

I’m sorry for not actually following through on the releasing, and I can’t promise an issue every month just yet either. Once I get my own device over the summer, things will be a lot smoother, especially once finals are done. I don’t think the second test comic should take nearly as long, since the learning curve should be less extreme.

The quality of the first test comic is less than I want to promise for the future, so please be patient!! I promise it’ll be worth it in the end. Maybe.

Man, this update is bleak. Have a frame from the first test comic as a treat, and a minor character from Part One, and I’ll see you in like, a week with a release announcement post. Also, keep an eye open for the directories I’ll be posting soon! They’ll all have their own cute little art to go with too. See you then, and thank you for your patience.

Niko out <3

If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me an ask.

[earlgreydream]

❄️ 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠. || 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

“You promised.”

Bucky pulled you onto his lap, slipping his hands under your sweater. He traced over the curve of your spine, familiar with every detail of your skin he touched. Your complaints were silenced as he pulled you into a messy kiss, his tongue gliding against yours, tasting like smoke, vanilla, and bourbon. 

“Stop trying to distract me,” you smiled, tracing the defined features on his face. 

“You’re a much better baker than I,” Bucky argued, lifting your sweater to put his head under, mouthing at your breasts, gently nipping you with a mischievous grin.

“This isn’t the forties, I’m not your housewife. I want you to bake with me, James,” you begged, knowing he’d give in.

He smiled against your warm skin, pressing a kiss to your sternum. You knew you’d convinced him, and he really did want to join you, but he’d be remiss if he didn’t at least try to tease you a bit.

“Come on, then.”

You tried to climb off his lap, but he lifted you and carried you to the kitchen, making you squeal with laughter.

“I’ll get the bowls,” he said, getting into the high cabinets for you.

You pulled ingredients from the fridge and pantry, setting them on the counters and checking the recipe.

“Help me crack the eggs, please,” you begged, always cracking the shells into pieces.

“Sure doll,” he split them with one hand, an old party trick he swore he learned in the army.

You poured flour into the bowl, laughing as Bucky smeared some on your cheek. You stepped back, trapped between his wide body and the counter, squealing as he made a mess of you.

“James!” You laughed as he pulled your flour-covered shirt off, doing the same to his.

His body was warm against yours, fighting off the December chill in the air as he helped you shape the dough with snowflake and tree-shaped cookie cutters.

Once they were in the oven and icing was prepared, Bucky passed the time by kissing you, smearing icing over the curves of your torso before following it with his tongue.

“You’re a fiend,” you teased against his lips, dragging him into a steamy kiss, his hands gripping your ass as he stood between your legs.

“We’ll shower after we decorate the cookies. Then you’ll be nice and clean again,” he swore.

“Though, you’re so sweet I could just eat you,” he murmured suggestively, gently biting your shoulder.

“I might let you.”

The oven beeped and you hopped off the counter, washing your hands before helping Bucky set them on a cooling rack. You were decorating them for a Christmas party with the rest of the avengers.

You gently squeezed colored icing onto snowflakes, making them white and blue, using edible glitter to make them sparkle. He watched your careful movements, smiling at the concentrated expression on your face, your nose wrinkling as you decorated the sweets. 

“They look great, doll,” he assured you, making you swat him away. 

“Thank you.” 

He hovered, waiting for you to finish, and finally you gave into his incessant need for attention. 

“Go start a shower,” you held back a giggle as he ran to your bedroom, shaking your head. 

You packed all of the cookies for the party, enjoying teasing Bucky by dragging your feet. You finally walked into the bathroom, breathless at the sight of his nude form leaning against the tile. 

“Come here, doll,” his voice was deep, making a shudder of excitement roll down your spine. 

You stepped under the hot water, his body pressing up against your back. Soapy hands groped your body, washing flour from your skin and making arousal smear between your thighs. 

“Bucky,” you whined, grinding back against him, feeling his hard cock. 

“Put your hands on the tile.”

You obeyed the command, bending over and pressing your palms to the cold wall of the shower. He gripped your hips, pulling you back onto his cock until his hips met yours. You cried out as sharp pleasure shot through you, him only allowing you a moment before thrusting hard, his grip on your waist keeping your body from jolting forward. The force had stars dancing in your vision, burning through your veins as he fucked you hard and fast. 

“James, fuck!” you squealed, your thighs shaking as you struggled to hold yourself up.

His metal hand snaked around your throat, pulling you up against his chest so he could ravage you at a new angle, your head falling back on his shoulder. His gentle squeeze on your throat made your cunt spasm around him, shattering through your self control. 

“You feel so good coming around me like that,” Bucky praised, shocks pulsing through you. 

Your head was spinning as he pulled out, coming in white ribbons over the curve of your ass, smirking at the sight before the water gently washed it away. 

Heat rose to your face, and he grinned, amused that he could still make you shy. 

“Let’s get cleaned up,” he suggested, sparing you further embarrassment, pressing a kiss to your pouted lips.

[gorbo-longstocking]

I'm not saying I want to see more Gaster x reader I'm just saying it would bring me great amounts of joy and delight

prepare for great amounts of joy and delight then! ;3 hes so fun to write hcs for… the skrunkly….

- gaster is generally a very neat person but his lab can only be described as organized chaos. he loves when you visit him at work and will “forget” his lunch at home just so you’ll show up and bring it to him. this is a mix of him missing you, him wanting to show you off to his coworkers, and wanting to show you what hes been working on.

- much to your dismay, he doesnt exactly adhere to lab safety procedures. its an ego thing, he thinks hes too good to have something blow up in his face. you’d think he’d learn his lesson, but obviously not. its a running gag in the office how many times gaster has to use the chemical shower. one time you caught him drinking coffee out of a beaker and freaked out so hard you managed to get him to promise never to do it again.

- you are probably the only person on the planet who can get gaster to not do something he wants to do. hes stubborn, if he has his mind set on something it will take near god-like power to stop him. but with you, puppy eyes will suffice. he will be kind of huffy about it though.

- (the only other person who can hold a candle to your power is papyrus. i am a fan of dadster.)

- gaster is generally uninterested in social media. he has a facebook he hardly uses outside of keeping up with his friends and family, but will excitedly update his relationship status on facebook when you make it official. he’ll make a huge event about it, light a candle, pour some wine, put on some mood music and then cuddle by the fire as you both update your facebook statuses from single to in a relationship.

- he travels a lot for work and kind of drags you along with him. if you like to travel this is definitely a win for you. unfortunately because its for work, he won’t have a lot of time to spend with you, but he will always make sure youre not bored. he really appreciates you coming with him, so he tries to show that in little ways. like ordering you delivery or twxting you places he thinks you might like to go. he also treats you on fancy dates whenever he has time off. the whole shebang.

- he gets cold easily, especially his hands. theyre like ice cubes. to mess with you, he will stick his cold hands on the back of your neck and laugh when you shriek. he’ll insist to you he just wants to warm them up, but you can see his gloves hanging out of his pocket.

- knows how to ballroom dance and would love to teach you. he’s incredibly tall, like absolutely towers over you kind of tall, so it will be a bit of a learning curve. he’ll put on music and dance with you in your living room, unable to look away from you.

- this image makes me think of him

[wri0thesley]

Okay but hear me out, gojo teaching his girl how to properly touch herself bc she can't make herself cum and has been edging herself unintentionally and gojo helps out with his long fingers 🥺

instruction - gojo x fem!reader (2k)

you might be having trouble, but gojo doesn’t mind playing sensei to you. 

warnings: nsfw/minors dni! oral sex, assisted masturbation, fingering. afab reader with fem pronouns

[reblogs/comments appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

The first time that Gojo gives you an orgasm, it’s using his tongue. His head is buried between your thighs, soft noises of praise coming out of his mouth interspersed with the flutter of his kisses on your inner thighs and the downright filthy sound of his mouth dragging through your slick. His tongue toys with your clit, swirling it and sucking it, circling it before he returns back to flicking the tip over it with mountingly quicker and harder motions. Your hands are knit in his hair, and as you feel the ball of pressure inside of you finally split into a thousand tiny pieces, you tug on the silver-pale strands in your grip and wail into the ceiling. He guides you through the aftershocks with slower, deeper laps of his tongue across your cunt before he lazily pulls himself up onto his elbows, looking at you with those big blue eyes, galaxies swirling with them.

“You were so noisy, doll,” he murmurs. “I know I’m good with my tongue, but hell - if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that seems like the first time you’ve ever got to cum--” 

You feel yourself squirm, embarrassment flooding your thoughts. It’s not like you haven’t tried! But something in you always seems to stop you coming, and you’ve spent too many nights frustratedly falling asleep with your thighs a mess after being unable to bring yourself any kind of relief.

You can’t really hide anything from Satoru Gojo, though. 

The look on your face tells him all that he needs to know - that flustered, half-guilty expression, your bitten lips darkened from the dig of your teeth. His own expression softens indescribably, those long fingers sliding up your damp thighs as he coos, all pity; “Oh, baby girl . . . We can’t have that, can we?”

He coaxes you, words coated in sugar, eyes gentle, to show him how you’ve been touching yourself. Before you know what’s happening, he’s taking your hand and pulling it down to rest over where you’re still slick with your own arousal and Gojo’s saliva. You’re still adorably sensitive, flinching at the pads of your fingers over your tender clit, so Gojo gently tugs on your wrist.

“Try circling it,” he murmurs. “You’ll hurt yourself if you go all in with the stimulation--”. You do your best to follow his orders for a few minutes, until the sensitivity wears off a bit. And then, he’s kneeling between your thighs and pushing your knees up a little so he has a better view of how exactly you’re rubbing at your petal-soft folds, how you’ve been treating yourself up until now. “Show me exactly how you’ve done it before,” he breathes, the crystalline sapphires of his eyes set on the space between your legs like he’s a patron at an art gallery. “Lemme see why you haven’t gotten to come, baby.”

You do your best. It’s the same as it always is, though - you rub at your clit with inexperienced, clumsy fingers. Heat seems to build up inside you, but you never manage to get it to go further than that build up. Even when you use your other hand to thrust two of your fingers inside, it feels like you’re reaching for something that isn’t quite there. It’s so annoying. You’ve read guides on how to do this, watched porn videos in the hope it’ll help you with your block - but nothing seems to work. And now, you’re being watched by your boyfriend, and you can’t help but be hot and embarrassed . . . and kind of turned on. The way that he’s looking at you. The concern knitting his usually smooth brow.

Gojo watches you, pensive, as you feel tears of frustration bubble up in the corners of your eyes. You move your hands away from your cunt, curling them into fists and giving the bed beneath you an exasperated thump. 

(Gojo’s eyebrows raise as he sees you removing the stimulation entirely. You poor little thing. No wonder you haven’t managed it.) 

“I-I can’t get it to go further,” you say, agitated. “I-it gets to a point, and then it just seems to stop! It builds up and it builds up but it just stays there!”

Gojo shifts closer to you. His hands rest on your thighs. “You know what I think?” He asks you, his voice very low. His cock has been hard in his pants since the moment he got you on his bed, never mind the orgasm he gave you with his tongue - but it’s a damn right tragedy you’ve never been able to make yourself come, and (much as he doesn’t want to admit it) being Gojo’s girlfriend can be a lonely life. He’s away on missions so often, and he loves to tease, and he knows that you’ll have his cock on the mind forever once you’ve had it for the first time. So it’s better for both of you if you learn exactly what you’re doing. “I think y’just haven’t had the right teacher yet. And . . . you’re in luck,” he flashes you one of those patented Satoru Gojo grins, half-unhinged and half-handsome. “Because I’m right here and willin’ to take some time out of my busy schedule to teach you all about the human body--!”

“Don’t put it like that,” you say, weakly, as he reaches between your thighs and pulls the lips of your cunt apart. He looks back at your sex; the swollen clit, the hole begging to be filled, the absolute mess you’ve both made with tongues and fingers and your earlier orgasm. 

“You always stop before it goes further, right? Because you get bored and frustrated?” He clicks his tongue, shaking your head in mock scolding, as you squirm. “Baby girl, you gotta have temerity. You’ve been edging yourself ever since you figured out how to jack off.” His thumb swipes down through the slit as he lets go of his thumb’s hold. “Play with your clit for me. C’mon.”

The way he meets your eyes tells you that this is an order, and Gojo when he slips into the mode of a commander is not a man to be messed with. You hesitantly slide your fingers back between your legs to gently circle your swollen clit, your touch incredibly gentle. Gojo’s pretty mouth tilts into a smile. “Use your other hand to play with your chest,” he says. “I’d ask you to use it for something else, but . . .” The smile widens, showing a hint of white teeth. “I think I’m much better placed to do that.”

You are about to ask him what he means when his hand brushes over yours and then a fingertip gently pushes into the pulsing ring of your entrance. His fingers are slender - it does not hurt for him to push them in, but you are still robbed of your breath by the sensation of it plunging slowly into your silky depths. He gives one or two cursory pumps, before withdrawing his finger entirely so he can add a second beside it.

This one is more of a stretch, but it is a stretch in the best possible way. You use the hand not playing with your clit to squeeze the weight of your breast, your breath hitching. Thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple, teasing it to a stiff peak, as Gojo finds a slow rhythm to pump his fingers in and out of you.

“That’s deeper, right?” He rasps. “Feels better? Like places you’ve never been able to reach before?” He crooks his fingers just so and magic seems to spark, a spot on your inner walls your own shorter fingers have never managed to gain ground on. Your thighs tremble and you gasp out his name. “I thought so.” He swallows. You look up at him through the fan of your eyelashes and you see the lust in his eyes is palpable. He catches your gaze and holds it, unafraid. 

“I want you to be rougher with yourself,” he growls, low. “Press a little harder--”

The hand not currently fucking two digits into you takes hold of your wrist, pushing you to put more pressure on your clit. Fuck. The sensation of his hand guiding your wrist’s movements, in tandem with the fact that his fingers have not yet stopped hitting that special spot with every single thrust . . . You can feel the ball tightening, pulling in on itself, like a hundred knots in the same piece of thread. 

“If you didn’t have me,” Gojo rasps, and the sound of his voice gritty and dark sends a jolt of pleasure throughout you, “You’d be stopping now. You’d think you weren’t gonna get anywhere. But . . . you will, doll-- you’ve just gotta push past it--” He takes his hand away from your wrist, but you continue the pace and the pressure that he chose for you.

You whimper out his name, the hand playing with your chest squeezing hard (if you have bruised fingerprints on the soft curve of your breast tomorrow, Gojo will laugh gently at them and press on them a little meanly before he soothes you all over with kisses). 

“You gonna promise me you’ll do that when you’re alone, yeah?” Gojo asks. He’s sounding a little breathless. Your eyes manage to focus long enough to see that he’s rubbing himself through his underwear, an impressive bulge pressing against the expensive fabric. He sees you looking and gives another feral grin that seems to echo through you. “D-don’t worry, we’ll take care’a that after your lesson--”

“I promise,” you breathe, as he curls his fingers just right against that spot and your own fingers reach fever pitch. You don’t know if you’re promising to do it the way that he taught you, or if you’re promising that you’ll take care of his cock, or if you’re promising something else to him entirely - your life, your love, your very being - but you do know that the knotted threads inside of you snap all at once as Gojo’s fingertips reach so deep, so good, so perfectly inside of you.

Your channel clenches and constricts, spasming around the digits buried in it to the knuckles. Heat washes over you with a feeling of peace, different to when he’d used his tongue on you and yet similar. Gojo is practically purring as he watches you and feels you, a gush of slick coating his fingers even as he guides you over the crest of your orgasm.

“Good girl,” Gojo’s murmuring, as your breathing (when did you start panting?) evens out. “Oh, so good for me, doll . . .” His fingers come out of you with a wet pop and he brings them to his mouth, tongue flickering out teasingly to taste you. “So sweet for me, too . . .” He sighs, his eyes closing for a moment as he enjoys the lingering flavour. When those eyes open again, they’re lit with hunger.

“Well,” he says. “whaddya say? Think you can come like that next time you touch yourself?” He raises his eyebrows, a playful grin on his face. “Think y’can come at all?”

You nod fervently, and win a chuckle from Gojo. He shifts on the bed, pushing the underwear he’s still wearing down to his thighs to reveal the thick jut of his cock. You’re breathless at the sight of it, already needy despite the fact your second orgasm of the night was scant minutes ago. 

“I want a video of it,” he tells you. “Next time you touch yourself. I want a video of you and I want you t’say my name as you do it. But for now . . .” He gently taps the wet (so, so, wet - ruddy and flushed and dripping with his pre-come) head of his cock against your thigh. “I think we’ve got some other business to attend to, yeah?”

[saintshigaraki]

HERE, IN THE MORNING LIGHT, IS WHERE WE’LL BARE OUR SOULS

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader 

words: 3.2k

excerpt: Really, how many times can you blame Ushijima for breaking your heart when you’re the one who can’t seem to stop handing it to him -- on a silver fucking platter no less. 

a/n: this is...a bit too similar to my bakugou drabble i’ll admit. but i could see a relationship with ushijima having some of the same problems. he’s not purposely cruel, but god, doesn’t that just make it so much worse?

tags: angst, mentions of alcohol, implied sex, reader is full of rage, ambiguous/open ending

in case you want to read it on ao3!

You greet Toshi at the door, as you’ve made a habit of doing when he manages to come home before you’ve fallen asleep.

(Like a well-trained dog, you think, with only the most bitter sort of amusement.) 

When you lift your hand up to cup his face, a sweet hello, love, how was your day? on your lips, he sweeps it aside (gently, of course. He's always so sickeningly gentle when he brushes you aside. You think that might just make the hollow sting of his nonchalant rejection that much worse.)

“Have you made anything for dinner?” he asks, already walking away before you have a chance to pull him down for a kiss. Your arm falls unceremoniously at your side. A deadweight, swinging. 

I think I might hate you, you want to say, so,  so badly. The words are there, right on the tip of your tongue as you stand frozen in the darkened entryway, his shadow stretches, eclipsing you, as he walks further and further away.

But these moments of sweet burning-hot rage pass as quickly as they come and soon -- too soon, maybe, or not soon enough -- you find yourself turning on your heels and shining a too-bright smile, the one that shows too many teeth and leaves an ache in your cheeks. 

“Not yet, love, but I can whip up something real quick.” 

The words taste like lead in your mouth.

(Or maybe that's just the blood from biting your tongue.)

Who knows, you muse, bitterly, bitingly. What does it matter anyway? 

You make your way towards the kitchen.

+

Later that night, after he’s finished fucking you into the mattress, he grunts out an I love you, before rolling over and promptly falling asleep. 

His cum is sticky and uncomfortable as it cools on your burning thighs. 

You stare at the lights sweeping across the ceiling from the passing cars and try to remember days when you didn’t feel as though someone had hollowed out everything that made you and filled in the empty space with barely contained rage. 

Rationally, you know you weren’t always so unhappy with Ushijima. You loved him -- you still do -- you have for years. You could barely contain your tears of joy when he asked you to marry him and you didn’t manage to contain them at all the day you officially tied the knot. 

You were so happy then. So, so, happy. 

What happened? 

(You know exactly what happened.)

You’ve made sacrifice after sacrifice for him. Moved from country to country. Left your family and friends behind more times than you can count. Because you love Toshi. Because you love him more than anything. And because he loves you, though you know he doesn’t love you more than anything. It’s a selfish gripe to have. A rather dumb one too. Of course he doesn’t love you more than volleyball. Why should he? He’s dedicated his whole life to the sport. Countless hours, countless injuries, and setbacks, and he’s persevered through it all because that's what he does. Because that sport, that court, that stupid fucking ball, is what he loves above all else. 

It’s not as if you jumped into this marriage wholly and totally blind. You’re not dumb. You knew volleyball was going to be a priority in his life,  the priority. And you thought you could handle that. You did handle it. For 5 years you’ve handled it, the constant moving, the last minute canceled plans, the weeks of him traveling that have left you all alone for near months at a time in a cold home with a cold bed. You’ve handled it all with a too-wide smile plastered painfully across your face. 

But things have -- shifted, recently. Maybe it’s the pressure of what could very well be his last Olympics coming up in these next few years, maybe it’s the fear of someone younger, better, stronger than him taking his place, or maybe, he simply doesn’t give all that much of a  fuck about you anymore. 

(You know that’s not true. Wakatoshi loves you. You know that. Which is what makes this all so much worse.)

I love you, isn’t that enough? he’d said bluntly, and maybe a bit confused, last time you brought up your concerns after the third canceled date in a row. 

His words had made you pause. Was it enough? Why isn’t it enough? Shouldn’t it be enough?

At the time, you’d thought, maybe. Maybe I can make it enough. 

A year later and you’ve come to the realization that it simply -- isn’t enough. Maybe if you were a different person, a slightly better person, it’d be enough. But you’re not. You’re you, a strange, toxic concoction of hollow fury and selfish desires (for comfort, for love, for anything more than whatever this is).

You roll over on your side to face your husband. He’s on his back, like he always is when he sleeps, completely dead to the world. 

He’s statuesque, unmovable, untouchable, even now. 

You gently brush your finger over his brow, sweeping his hair to the side, and tracing his strong jawline. You’ve done this a thousand times. You’ve memorized every curve, every freckle, every scar. You’ve mapped countless constellations across his skin. 

You don’t hate him, you realize, in the dark suffocating silence of the night. Not yet, at least. There’s still too much love for him in your heart. Still too many memories of brighter days. Sweeter days. Gentler days. 

He’s been good to you. As good as a man like him is capable of being. And you love him so, so dearly for it. 

He has tomorrow off, maybe -- maybe you should talk to him. There’s still time to salvage this. There’s still so much love for him in your heart, enough to drive out the hate. You know it. 

He has tomorrow off, you repeat to yourself. The first full day he’s taken off in a month. 

You’ll talk to him then. 

You have to. 

+

The morning light is what wakes you. The gentle rays kiss your cheeks so sweetly. 

Without fully opening your eyes, you reach towards Ushi only to be met with -- cool sheets. 

Your stomach drops painfully and it's as though he’s taken your heart in his hands and just squeezed. 

You open your eyes, wearily, tiredly, and the morning light no longer seems so sweet. It’s mocking. A cruel, bitter reminder of better days and broken promises. 

You crawl out of bed, trying to stay optimistic -- maybe he just went for a morning jog -- even though you know that on days he has off he likes to sleep in. You try desperately to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he promised and you want so badly to still be able to believe him, even after everything. 

He used to have every Saturday and Sunday free, then around three years ago it turned into every Sunday, then a year and a half ago it turned into every other Sunday, and recently -- well, it’s been a while. A long, long while. 

But he promised he’d stay home today. 

He promised, you repeat as you stumble around the apartment only to find it painfully silent, empty, and so, so cold. 

You collapse on the couch, hunched over, your head hanging pitifully into your hands. You take a deep, pathetically shaky breath. 

And then you laugh. 

You laugh so hard you nearly heave. 

Two years ago, you would’ve cried. A year ago, you would’ve screamed. 

But now? Who do you really have to blame, but yourself? How can you not laugh? How can you not laugh at just how stupid and gullible you are? 

Really, how many times can you blame Ushijima for breaking your heart when you’re the one who can’t seem to stop handing it to him -- on a silver fucking platter no less. 

This is your fault. And it has been for a long while now. 

It’s time to move on. 

+

You book a one-way flight home -- you haven’t been back in so long. Too long, you know. You stuff as much as you can into your single suitcase and pitiful carry-on bag. It’s all strangely methodical and robotic. You’re calmer than you’ve been in months. 

This is how it was always going to end. Honestly, you don’t think there was really supposed to be another option, any other way out. You don’t think this mess was ever going to be fixed. It was stupid of you to ever believe otherwise. 

By the time you’ve managed to compose yourself, get your affairs in order, and meticulously pack away as much as you can, the sun has started to dip below the horizon. 

The clock reads 9:18 PM. Your flight is in a few hours. You’ll have to get going soon. 

You pick out the nicest, most expensive bottle of red wine in your home. You were going to save it for when Ushi made the national team again but, as you’ve learned rather painfully, sometimes plans change. 

You pour yourself a glass, but in the end, can’t bring yourself to take a single sip. 

That’s how Ushi finds you, sitting at the kitchen table, toying with a glass of wine. There’s only the lone kitchen light lit in the apartment. The shadows dance around him, dark and monstrous, ready to swallow you both whole. 

Wakatoshi has never been particularly skilled at reading social cues but you can tell from the slight tilt of his head that he knows somethings wrong. You wonder if he knows exactly how wrong. 

(Not that it would really change anything if he did.)

The thud of his gym bag hitting the floor echoes too loudly in the silent apartment. 

He steps into the kitchen like he does all other things -- with purpose, with confidence. It will never not leave you in awe, even now, how sure he always is of himself. He’s a blunt force weapon, he always has been, and you can’t imagine a time where he’ll be anything but. 

He stops at the opposite end of the table. It’s the beginning of the same song and dance you two have done time and time again when he breaks his little promises. 

His big ones too. 

(You think of when he had missed your five-year anniversary dinner for a last-minute practice. He hadn’t forgotten about the reservation, he’d told you after he’d returned home to you sitting alone at the kitchen table, half-drunk and livid, but people were relying on him, is what he’d said, and there’s always next year.)

This routine is comforting, if only in the cruelest way. 

We can put on a show, just this last time, you think. For old time’s sake. 

Your eyes fall back down to your glass as you speak. “You said you’d stay home today.”

You look back up just in time to see him opening his mouth. No doubt getting ready to cycle through the same set of excuses he’s been using for the past four years. 

A teammate called. 

I needed the extra practice. 

There’s a skill I need to perfect. 

The Olympics are 4 years away...3 years away...2 years away....you know that, love.

And, of course, no matter his reason, his excuse, he always makes sure to add, I’ll stay home next Sunday, I promise. 

He doesn’t intend for that last part to be cruel, you’re sure of it, but God, if that doesn’t make it so much worse. 

You cut him off before he can even start. “You promised.”

His brows furrow at your exhausted, weary tone. “There was a team meeting today, I’m sorry I forgot to mention it to you. It went on longer than I expected it would. We can still go out to dinner if you’d like.” 

You give him a sad sort of smile. You’re too tired to give him any other. “I don’t think I’ll have time for that, love.”

Ushijima’s left brow twitches, as it always does when he doesn’t quite understand what’s going on. 

He takes a step forward, around the table. “What do you mean? Are you going out tonight?” 

You shake your head softly. “No, Toshi.”

You can’t help but wish more than anything, that it didn’t have to come to this, because you have loved him so much, so deeply, and you think that for it to end like this is a disservice to you both. 

His jaw clenches, no doubt already trying to contain his frustration. He’s probably tired after his long day. An argument over something like this is probably the last thing he wants. A good wife would care more. A good wife might’ve persevered, smiled through her husband's little lies and shattered promises. A good wife might’ve tried harder. A good wife might’ve dug her heels in, instead of letting go completely. 

But you’re not a good wife. Not now, at least. For all you know, you never were. You’ve always been just a bit too bitter, too selfish, too flawed. Not willing enough to throw yourself on the metaphorical altar for him. 

He’s close enough now that he can see the suitcase at your side. It stops him dead in his tracks. 

“What’s going on?” His tone is hard, demanding, but you know him too well to miss the fear that pulls at the corner of his eyes. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi is a lot of things. But he’s certainly not dumb. He has to know what’s going on. He has to have known that, eventually, this was what was going to happen. 

You stand up slowly, bracing your palms against the rough wood of the tabletop. 

“I-” you let out a harsh, mean breath. You hate that you’re doing this. But you’d hate yourself more if you didn’t. And you know you’d grow to hate him too, eventually, if you stay. You’re burning up here in this home, each broken promise and cold night add fuel to the already raging fire. You’ll be nothing but ashes soon enough. “I can’t do this anymore, Wakatoshi.” 

His pretty olive eyes narrow. The look he gives you is practically glacial. His fury has always been so, so cold. A stark contrast to your burning rage. 

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t understand.” His words are slow, methodical, and too even.

They crack open something violent inside your chest, something with teeth. Something mean and ugly and so, so sad. 

Too many years of biting your tongue have culminated into this moment. It’s time to strip yourself to the bone, to the ugly marrow. No matter how painful or awful. 

Don’t you two deserve that, at least? Don’t you two deserve to part ways having seen the worst of each other? 

“Of course you don’t understand, Ushijima,” you spit out, caustic and cruel. “How can you?” The laugh you let out is ripped from the very bottom of your heart, mean and poisonous. “Or more accurately, why would you? Why would you even bother understanding? It’s not like my unhappiness has ever really meant anything to you before-”

He cuts in sharply. “You know that’s not true.”

“No,”  you hiss. “I don’t. How can I? I’ve been miserable for years now, left to beg for scraps of your attention like a fucking dog. I’ve reduced myself to this pathetic creature. I-” tears cloud your vision, far faster than you can blink them away. “I don’t even recognize myself anymore, Ushijima. I’m so--I’m so angry all the time and if I stay here that’s going to be all that’s left of me.”

It’s silent after your outburst and in the air is something awful and too great. You’re both teetering on the edge of something terrifying. 

“If you stay with me, you mean,” he says, finally, and far too soft for a man like him. All signs of his previous fury have fled and in his eyes is a painful sort of vulnerability.

Your anger dissipates with his, mostly because you’re so fucking tired of being angry. 

Is it really his fault, anyway? What exactly were you expecting of him, when you took his last name? Were you really wanting him to change something so fundamental, so ingrained in his soul, just for you? How unfair of you, you realize now, how cruel. 

“Toshi.” You’re exhausted. And so sick of being second best. “This is more my fault than it is yours. I thought I could handle what being married to you would entail but I was,” -- you laugh, far less biting than before-- “very wrong.” You close your eyes, unable to look at him. “And now I suppose we’re both paying the price for it.” 

“I love you,” he says, bluntly. “And you love me.”

You’re finally able to meet his eyes again. You take in the planes of his face, the subtle pain etched into every corner, a brutal, beautiful reflection of the years you’ve spent by his side. 

“I do love you, Ushijima. More than anything.” 

“Then why are you doing this?” 

You swallow hard. “Sometimes, that just isn’t enough, Toshi. Relationships require more than love. They require work, and compromise, and some semblance of care and dedication, and you just-- you just don’t have the time for that right now, and I understand that. But I can’t keep doing this to myself. I deserve-” you stop and give yourself a moment to choose your words carefully, lovingly because you’re desperate for him to just understand. “We deserve better, don’t you think?”

He shakes his head, his hair falls in his eyes. You sweep it aside, a force of habit after all these years, something you’ve done a million and one times. Before you can jerk your arm back he grips it in his large hand. His fingers wrap around your wrist, unyielding. 

“I need you,” Toshi says, uncharacteristically desperate. You can feel the heat radiating off his chest. It's a twisted sort of comfort. Knowing this may very well be the last time you’ll be in this position. 

You smile, sweetly and a bit sadly. “No, you don’t, Ushi. You need volleyball. You need the thrill of the game and the taste of victory but you don’t need me. You’ve never needed me. And that’s okay.” You lift your other hand up to brush the stray tear that’s fallen from his eye. He nuzzles into your palm before you can move it, clinging to you like some sort of lifeline. “It’ll be okay, Toshi, we’ve just reached the end of our road. That’s all.”

He raises a shaky hand to trace the dried tracks of tears on your cheek, it’s startling to see him so uncomposed. “Please,” he nearly begs, “don’t do this.”

In your heart, there’s an odd brew of grief and rage and pain and love so mean you know you’ll feel the ache of it for years to come. 

You think of all the shattered promises he’s left at your feet, you think of the gentle way he’s held you through the years, you think of his string of nonchalant rejection, you think of yourself, bright and burning. 

Your mind spins from it and all you can do is rest your head against his chest and close your eyes.

a/n pt 2: there is some untapped potential in the fed up housewife genre and i am determined to unearth it. also i love ushi i promise i think he’d be a great husband under most circumstances

[spencersscout]

Mirror Image

WORDCOUNT: 881

WARNINGS: smut, literally just smut, slight dom/sub dynamic, sub!spencer, implied afab reader, looking into a mirror while sexing it up, longer haired spencer is implied, non explicit unprotected sex

***

One of the first things you learned about Spencer was that he was averse to touch. Another was that he knew the answer to just about everything. Spencer Reid was a bashful genius and it just made you want him more. And despite the everything about him: his awkwardness, his sweater vests and wild curls and puppy dog eyes, he turned out to not only be deceptively cuddly but deceptively kinky as well.

He whines, deep in the back of his throat, rubbing the velvety head of his cock right against your folds, pressing his chest and belly against your back. His nose drops to the crook of your neck and you feel his breath, hot and heavy against your skin. His hips are moving at approximately one billionth of their usual rapid pace and you’re getting impatient.

“Come on, Spence, what are you doing?” The use of his name is what alerts him to you, breaking him just enough out of the scene that he can acknowledge you. He brings his chin up and rests it on your shoulder, continuing his slow movements, sliding his cock against you rather than going for penetration.

“What do you mean?” His voice is thick and crackly. He’s pretty close to being lost in subspace, which worries you a bit. This is the first time you’ve ever incorporated the concept of punishment into the bedroom and you can’t help but feel a twinge of worry in your belly.

“Color?” Spencer hums and rubs his cheek against your shoulder blade.

“S’green.” You twist your head a bit to catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are closed, eyelashes all fanned out, cheeks, lips and nose flushed a delicate rose.

“You’re being awfully naughty, not even taking your punishment right,” you purr, watching as his eyes flutter open just a tad.

“Nothing could be a punishment with you.”

“You’re literally unbelievable.” Spencer loves when he can see your face, so when he got a little too handsy for his own good, you thought the perfect thing to do would be to make him fuck you from behind for the first time. But he’s too much of a romantic to even be that put off.

You force your hand under your belly, grasping his cock. Spencer’s gasp sends a jolt right to your core and you clench around all the nothing inside you. You stroke him a few times, but it’s an uncomfortable position, laying on your shoulder, hair in your mouth (you aren’t even sure that it’s yours), arm going fuzzy with pins and needles. So you make it quick and line him up and slide him inside of you. Your slight gasp elicits a brand new sound from Spencer, one you’ve never heard before, sort of a strangled growl.

You expect the pace to pick up a bit but he just keeps rutting his hips gingerly against you, draping his entire body weight onto you and pressing soft kisses to your neck, shoulder and upper back. You groan, this time in frustration, about to grab him by the hair and tell him that if he doesn’t get his ass in gear, you’ll make sure he doesn’t come for a week, when you feel him shift a little, hands finding your hips and squeezing them, working his thumbs against your back dimples. He finally picks up the pace, letting out loud groans and soft curses. He truly is a walking noise complaint.

His left hand leaves your hips and finds its way to your clit, rubbing in those quick clockwise circles that he knows you like. His right hand also migrates, although it stays on your ass, which he starts kneading with his fingers.

That’s when you look up, catching sight of the mirror across from your bed. Spencer is staring into the reflection, pupils blown to saucers, as he fucks you faster.

“Are you kidding?” The words come out all strangled but he still looks at you from the mirror, lips curving into a soft and dopey smile.

“I can see you better this way.”

You twist your upper back to pull him into a kiss, a fierce one, complete with clicking teeth and hot breath. He breaks away for a moment, just to whimper. It’s the quietest sound he makes and it always indicates his end. As if on cue, you feel his cock twitching inside of you as he finishes. You immediately follow him, walls fluttering around him, drawing out his orgasm longer than usual.

He doesn’t even pull out, only collapses onto you, smooshing all of the air out of your body, pressing his face up against yours, as close as he can get. He makes soft, contented sounds against your cheek, only stopping to hiss in slight discomfort as you slip away. As you stand up, legs shaking, Spencer makes grabby hands at you, pouting when you don’t immediately return to his embrace.

“I’ll be right back, angel, I promise. You won’t even notice that I’m gone.” As you wobble away to get some clean pajamas and a hot washcloth for your boy, you hear him call out to you.

“I’m noticing!” You smile to yourself, and make a silent vow to always hurry back as fast as you can.

[dragonmuse]

For the smut prompts or just a usual ask—the various AUs where Izzy, Lucius, and Eddy (or maybe even Stede!) end up in a polycule together, could you see a three/foursome developing? And/or would love to see some Steddy Hands smut.

(How ‘bout another first kiss ‘verse,  some SteddyHands for thee. Their second time altogether:)

Eddy and Izzy’s sex had a routine. They figured out how to effectively get each other off early on. If Eddy was in the mood, she reached for Izzy, grabbed the nearest limb and squeezed hard until Izzy gasped, tilted his head back at the right angle for Eddy to bite his neck like a blunt-toothed, but determined vampire. He had a near permanent hickey at this point that he never hid.  There would be some groping, rutting. Sometimes it would end right there, pressed against whatever surface they were nearest, or sometimes they’d make it to the bedroom and Izzy would wrap his legs around Eddy’s waist in silent request and she’d give him what he wanted with ruthless desire.

Stede didn’t work like that. Izzy knew it. Eddy knew it. They sort of tried it the first time anyway and Stede had gone along with it, but hadn’t looked thrilled. 

“I think we gotta go slow,” Eddy whispered to Izzy while stroking a sleeping Stede’s hair after. “He likes all that romance and shit.” 

“Gross,” Izzy groused. 

“It’s not,” Eddy determined. “We’ll make it good.” 

So the next night, Izzy tugged Stede into bed when he tried to pretend like he might go back to his own lonely mattress. 

“Come here,” Izzy demanded, but when Stede hesitated, Izzy sighed, “Please.” 

“Oh,” Stede glanced at Eddy, who smiled and reached out a hand. 

“C’mere, we’ll be good,” Eddy promised. 

“No, we won’t,” Izzy watched Stede take Eddy’s hand. “But you’ll like it.” 

“I liked last night,” Stede said quietly. “Truly.”

“Yeah, but me and Iz do things one way. Maybe you like it another,” Eddy pulled him closer. “Let us try, huh?” 

Stede went, laying down between them.  Eddy kissed him sweetly, so softly.  Izzy traced a hand over Stede’s arm, as Eddy settled into a good long makeout. Kissing Stede was different. Izzy kissed like a harsh request. Stede kissed like he knew the answer, but he wasn’t telling. 

“Go on,” Eddy said when it was getting a little hard to think straight. “Iz, give him a kiss.” 

Izzy didn’t need to be told twice. Stede rolled onto his back and Izzy swarmed over him, hands sliding into Stede’s golden hair without hesitation. Eddy watched hungrily as they devoured each other. At one point, Stede gave a hard shove and Izzy went over like he couldn’t keep Stede down with one hand tied behind his back. 

Their places switched and Stede started a thorough investigation, tugging Izzy's shirt up and over his head, tossing it away. Then his hands slid down Izzy’s chest, over the spot on his ribs that always made Izzy twitch. 

“Ticklish?” Stede paused. 

“Scar tissue,” Eddy explained, reaching over to curve Stede’s fingers over the slightly raised line. “Can feel a little weird to the touch.” 

“Sorry, my dear,” Stede said to Izzy. 

“I do not fucking care,” Izzy bit off and bucked up against him. 

“Yeah, you can go hard on him if you want,” Eddy laughed. “But I told him we’re playing nice, huh? Go a little easier.” 

“No one needs to go easy for me,” Stede snapped and Izzy gave a deep moan. Stede’s fingers had dug in a little, leaving behind pink half moons on Izzy’s skin. 

“Oh hey now,” Eddy sat up. “Not because you can’t take it. Just want you to like it. Seemed not to last night.” 

“I liked it a lot,” the tone was a little hurt and Eddy frowned. 

“But you looked...upset? Kind of. Even Izzy noticed.” 

It was a bit of an insult, but good ole Izzy was already whacked out and attempting to get Stede to scratch him again by laying very still and looking at him very hard. Fuck. It was a good thing they’d found each other. Who else would learn to read the world’s most impenetrable language? 

‘“It was my first time,” Stede sighed. “I was trying to sort out what I was meant to be doing. Nothing you did was bad. Most of it was really good. I...you both made me feel very good.” 

Then idly as if it was a continuation of the sentence, Stede raked his hand down Izzy’s chest, leaving a streak of marks. Izzy’s head snapped back, a feral grin as he met Eddy’s eyes. 

...maybe not the most impenetrable. Okay then.

“Maybe I want it softer,” Eddy said quietly, reaching down to cup Izzy’s neck, let him feel the press of their fingers there. “Sometimes.” 

“Oh, Eddy,” Stede breathed out. “I can do that. I bet Izzy could too.” 

“Uh huh,” Izzy said vaguely. 

With care, Eddy fisted a hand into Izzy’s hair and pulled. The grin didn’t leave, but his eyes slammed closed. Then she leaned forward to kiss Stede slowly.  He met her halfway and it was so good she could cry.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Stede confessed. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Eddy snorted. “Fuck, you’re a dream.” 

“Izzy,” Stede glanced down at him, “what do you want?” 

“Dunno,” Izzy slurred out. “Hand, mouth, fucking anything. I’ll do anything.” 

“He’s got a good mouth,” Eddy dropped down to kiss Izzy. Familiar and beloved. He kissed back, holding them there with just one hand fisted in her t-shirt.  “I’ve got you.” 

“I know,” he sighed and released her. 

Eddy sat back up, trying to decide how best to direct the scene, when Stede said, 

“How about you lay down, Eddy, let Izzy show me how to make you feel good? ” 

Just...lay back? Eddy blinked, then grinned. 

“Yeah, I think I can do that. What do you think, Iz? You up for the tutorial?” 

Izzy nodded, then paused, “You gotta get off of me first.”

“Oh, right,” Stede laughed and slid off of Izzy with a careless pat to his thigh. “Carry on.” 

Eddy expected Izzy to just go for it, a practical demonstration. But instead, he knelt beside Eddy, waited for her to lay down then reached out and swept a tendril of hair out of her face. 

“They like if you bite their lower lip, not the top. Not hard enough to break skin,” Izzy said measured, like he hadn’t just been a wreck from one swipe of Stede’s nails. 

“Yeah,” Eddy agreed. “You do that..then the tongue over it.” 

Izzy leaned down and did exactly that. Nipped at her bottom lip and then coasted the tip of his tongue over the tiny hurt until she shivered. 

“You can kiss their neck, but not bite,” Izzy advised and did that too, one hand lightly cupping her shoulder. “Left side. Right side is ticklish.” 

“It is?” Eddy blinked and then Izzy kissed the right side and she cringed a little, trying to scoot away. “Oh fuck it is.” 

“Very educational,” Stede grinned. “Go on.” 

“Don’t use it against me,” Eddy tried to sound threatening, but it came out a little wobbly as Izzy continued his lesson by shoving at her shirt until her chest was exposed, then flicked his tongue over her nipple. “Sensitive. You can play with ‘em, but not for too long or they get annoyed.”

“Feels weird,” Eddy agreed. 

“I don’t think mine feel a thing,” Stede shed his own shirt and pinched at his own nipple experimentally which was quite a thing to watch. Izzy had paused to observe that. “No, not really.” 

“Huh,” Eddy swallowed, wiggling the rest of the way of her shirt. If they were going to be half-naked, so was she.

“...right,” Izzy turned his attention back to Eddy with a twitch of a smile, gave their other nipple a bit of a glancing lick then kept moving down. “Grabbing at the hips is good. Ribs is not.” 

“Love when you do that.” 

“Yeah?” Izzy fitted his palms over the points of her hips. “Really?” 

“You just said I did.” 

“I....yeah,”  deep inhalation, exhaled sharply and then Izzy got to work on skimming Eddy out of pajama bottoms. No underwear. They both usually slept naked, the clothes a courtesy the last few weeks to Stede crawling into bed with them. 

“I see,” Stede had more room with Izzy around Eddy’s waist and he used to it to lay down beside Eddy. “I didn’t...is it okay to look?” 

“Yeah, you’re hopefully gonna hang out a lot,” Eddy grinned and pulled him for a kiss. “Get an eyeful.” 

Apparently Izzy decided it was finally time for practical demonstration only. Though he was showing off a little, laving his tongue on the underside of Eddy’s cock, giving her a look under sooty lashes to make sure they were both paying attention.

“Go on,” Eddy reached down to cup the back of his head. 

Giving head was something they’d both been kind of freaked out about in the beginning. Maybe Eddy should tell Stede that some day, away from where Izzy might hear.  How handjobs had been easy, but that had felt like a bridge to cross and it had to be Eddy first, more fearless always, no matter how much Izzy tried to range ahead to put himself between her and what came for them. 

Of course, these days Iz was fucking aces at it and he swallowed her down, the challenge in his eyes disappearing into heavy lidded bliss. 

“That’s beautiful,” Stede said in her ear. 

Eddy was too busy melting into the covers to reply.  Stede kissed the left side of her neck and brushed his thumb just once over her nipple. 

Her orgasm hit her like her truck and she felt a little bad for bucking into Izzy’s throat, but he just held on and swallowed down around her which felt fucking amazing.  

“I think I’ve learned a little bit,” Stede decided. “Izzy, can I experiment on you?” 

“What?” Izzy croaked and he sounded a little raw.

“Well, I don’t think Eddy would like another go just now.” 

“Could do it,” they muttered. “Just...need a minute.” 

“Of course,” Stede kissed her then reached down for Izzy, holding out both hands. “Come on, let me try.” 

Izzy took his hands and let himself be pulled up, then pressed down. Stede studied him, 

“I’d like another full tour, but perhaps later.” 

“Do anything,” Izzy muttered, throwing his arm up over his face, hiding his eyes. 

“He means it,” Eddy did reach out and trailed a hand down the path Stede had scratched. “But don’t.” 

“I won’t,” Stede breathed out. “I wouldn’t.” 

What Stede did do was get Izzy out of his boxers and study him for a moment. Then he wrapped a hand around Izzy’s cock and gave it one full stroke. 

“Not so different,” Stede decided and then shimmied down the bed. “Now, I need feedback, Izzy. Tell me what works for you and what doesn’t.” 

“Fuck,” Izzy muttered. “Eddy...” 

“He can’t do that,” Eddy supplied. “Loses brain function when he’s horny. Listen to the moans, there as good as a compass.” 

One thing about Stede, he did love to learn and he paid attention when it was a subject he was interested in. After an aborted first attempt where he gagged a little, he reapplied himself and within a minute gained some confidence. The tiny broken moans that Eddy loved to coax out of Izzy started breaking over his lips. He was holding himself so still. 

“S’good,” Eddy turned onto her side. It had been hot to have Stede in her ear, they gambled that Izzy would like it too. “You look so fucking hot like this.” 

A louder moan was pulled from Izzy’s throat.  Eddy reached for his wrist, pulled the arm away from his face. His eyes found theirs, magnets cracking back together. 

“Eddy...” he breathed out, unsteady. 

“I know. Can’t wait to have those pretty pink lips give me a turn. Does it feel as good as when I do it?” 

“Different,” Izzy managed, before Stede must’ve done something good, tearing his attention back.

“Warn him if you’re going to,” Eddy reminded him. 

Izzy nodded, holding out for another minute before managing a, “Stede...”  and when that didn’t get his attention, fumbling down and tugging at Stede’s hair. 

“What?” Stede pulled off with a loud pop dazed. “Did I-” 

Izzy came, back arching up off the bed then falling back down with a groan. 

“Oh,” Stede reached up, finding come on his face. That was going in Eddy's memory box for solo time. “I- did I do it right?” 

“Yeah,” Eddy laughed and handed him their own discarded t-shirt. “That’s kind of the goal.”

“Good,’ Stede grinned and gave Izzy’s thigh an affectionate pat. Izzy was staring at the ceiling, a little blankly. 

“What do you want?” Eddy asked. “And you should take off your underwear. Seems kind of silly at this point.” 

“Of course,” Stede realized. He rolled off the bed and pushed them off. 

His cock bobbed upward. Eddy had gotten their hand on it last night, but seeing it was something else altogether. Before they can bang two thoughts together, Izzy croaked. 

“Fuck me.” 

“Are you...” Stede frowned. “Is that an invitation or just an exclamation?” 

“I don’t fucking know,” Izzy said vaguely. “Eddy?” 

“All yours, I don’t even know how you’re up for it right now.” 

“Not dead, that’s how.” 

“An invitation then?” Stede smiled brightly. “I can wait.” 

Izzy growled in annoyance. 

“I think you’re good,” Eddy laughed. 

It was a trip and a half talking Stede through getting Izzy ready. Stede just couldn’t accept that Izzy didn’t need more than some lube and a hard bite that Eddy happily administered. 

“Not everything is a puzzle,” Izzy snapped. “Some time before I fucking pass out would be amazing.” 

“You’re such an asshole,” Stede said liked that pleased him and finally got between Izzy’s legs. 

Usually they did this with Izzy on his stomach, Eddy wrapping around him. Even when Izzy was fucking Eddy, Eddy was on top. Maybe with Stede, Eddy could lay down and let him explore. That’d be fun. 

For tonight though, Eddy got the best live action porn they could’ve ever imagined. Stede, blushing from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, shaking a little, but so determined that he still managed to look confident about it, lining up and fucking into Izzy, who writhed and groaned like he was being murdered and was fucking thrilled about it. 

She kissed them both as they worked at each other. Izzy’s cock valiantly rose a second time, twitching and bobbing with Stede’s rocking motions. When Eddy got to their knees to kiss Stede, she wrapped a hand around it, squeezing around the head. 

“Excellent multitasking.” Stede offered as they pulled away for a breath.  “How do I stop from coming before he does?” 

“Eh, I can jerk him off. It’s your first time, do whatever.” 

“Oh thank God,” Stede shuddered out a breath, then kicked into some new higher gear. Eddy jerked Izzy off, but he barely needed the help coming with a raw, pained sound as Stede buried himself for the last time and rocked like someone had pulled out his spine through his cock. 

“That is so mine next time,” Eddy decided, lifting their hand to their mouth and idly licking away Izzy’s contributions to their general disarray. 

“Yes...” Stede sort of sagged onto the bed then fell over. “I’d like that.” 

In later years, that would be everyone's cue to get up and get cleaned, before righting the bed and maybe replacing the sheets. But they weren’t there yet and instead, they piled under the covers. Eddy in the middle with Izzy’s back pressed to her side, closest to the door, and Stede with his arm flung over their chest, far enough to cup Izzy’s hip. 

This was what Eddy wanted, they decided. This and only this for the rest of their life.

[ethereaiin]

2B likes to carry Reader but doesn't like to admit it?

changed your rq a bit since i wanted some comfort fluff. also this reignited my motivation to write for my nier fic so thanks <3

features; you and 2B + some bonus 9S.

[au]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Being the only human left in the world meant a lot of things.

The weight of responsibility weighed heavily on your shoulders. There was never a day that went by you weren’t reminded of how precious your life was and how losing it meant the end of humanity. The androids you’ve come to know and love never let you forget that fact. You were their salvation; their hope and most of all, their most cherished person.

2B was especially fond of you. While she was reserved with her emotions, opting to use actions to display her care, you knew that she held a soft spot for you. She treated you as if you were the most delicate thing in the world; like the slightest harm against you would break you completely. Compared to an android, of course you were weaker. Yet 2B was maybe a little too cautious.

“Is this really necessary?”

You say with a slight pout as 2B lifts you from the ground and you immediately wrap your arms around her neck. At this point, she’s done it so many times that it felt more like an instinctual habit rather than something you did to ensure you wouldn’t fall. Knowing her, it was unlikely she’d ever let you slip through her grasp. Her wary nature wouldn’t allow it.

At this point, you were somewhat used to the coldness of an android’s body. They were different from humans and they didn’t possess the natural heat you exuded. When you clung to her, it felt no different from any other person, yet the lack of warmth was like a gentle reminder. Nothing here was the same as you remembered it to be and the beings that you were surrounded with on a daily basis that appeared so human were, in fact, anything but.

2B makes no verbal sound of irritation at your question and she answers you as diligently as she always does. “Of course. We can’t afford you getting sick or hurt.”

Though she rarely ever spoke with emotion, you could still hear the tinge of concern in her voice. It only made the heat in your cheeks feel especially warmer. “A-At least let me ride on your back! You can’t fight like this with me here!”

“You’re fine right where you are.”

Your lips part to protest but quickly close when you recall the promise you made to her earlier that day. It was her condition that if you were to roam about the city, you needed to listen to everything she told you to do. No matter how you felt about it. Even if it was a little embarrassing.

Yet, this wasn’t just a one-time occurrence when it came to 2B. No matter where you were, 2B wanted to be in some form of contact with you. At the camp, she’d sit so close that you could feel the brush of her sleeves against your skin, and whenever you were given the chance to roam about, you always found yourself either in her arms or on her back.

You thought it was nothing more than android curiosity. You were the first human she’s ever interacted with after all and it wasn’t as if it were any different for you. You couldn’t deny that you too were interested in androids, especially how they all came to be. For them, they’ve always known humans as their elusive creators, but for you, it felt as if the androids seemingly came from nowhere.

You couldn’t remember much of your old life before you woke up and for now, the desolate and decrepit city you wandered in was your new home. At least until you regain the lost memories 2B promised she’d help you recover.

“So, where are we going today?” You finally ask after a brief walk in silence.

2B’s stride doesn’t break and you feel almost lulled by her rhythmic steps. She didn’t even seem the least burdened with carrying you. She was stronger than an average human, it was something you came to learn after watching her mercilessly beat down a hunk of sentient metal. Just with her fists alone she was able to put a dent in steel. To her, your weight was of little consequence.

Often, you wondered what you felt like in her arms.

She glanced down at you, visage half shrouded by the blindfold around her eyes though the curve of a smile on her lips shows her excitement. “. . . You’ll see.”

She doesn’t say anymore after that and the both of you continue on in silence. Not that you minded it too much. 2B was never a conversationalist, she relied more on actions than words to convey how she felt. You liked that part of her. Her actions were always well thought out and held meaning, Whether she knew it or not, it made every little thing she did for you feel a little more sincere.

From your place in her arms, you took in the sights of the city. As dilapidated and broken as the world around you seemed, it was oddly beautiful. Never had you seen so much green in your life. Flora grew from the cracks between the roads and overtook the concrete buildings towering above you. Looking up towards the sky, you could see flocks of birds flying towards a destination you would never know, their distant calls an interruption to the silence. You don’t remember much of the old world, but you knew this city was never meant to be this quiet.

You desperately wished to regain your lost memories, yet there was a part of you who wasn’t so eager. Often the thought crossed your mind; maybe you were better off without them. Remembering would only leave you with the desire for a world long gone along with the total realization of your unfathomable luck. You, the last of your kind, were left all alone while the world died and withered without you. If there was a god, surely they wouldn’t have condemned you to such a lonely fate.

“Look,”

At the sound of her voice, you glance up at her only to direct your sight towards whatever she was referring to. While you were deep in thought you hadn’t noticed the direction she was heading in and you found yourself atop a wooden bridge placed just behind the walls of what looked to be an amusement park. From where 2B stood, you couldn’t see much, but you were given an incredible view of the distant castle.

“I-Is that an- Woah!”

The words died right on your tongue as an explosion of color suddenly took over the sky. Even from the great distance between you and the park, you were able to hear the crackling of fireworks. The sky, which you thought the sun would never set for, was darkened with the smoke from the war 2B and 9S constantly talked about. The colors were brightened against it, making their visibility clearer and their colors vivid. With your eyes locked onto the sight before you, you tapped on 2B’s shoulder as a silent request to be let down. She complied, allowing you to step near the edge of the bridge to take a closer look at the fireworks.

You thought you couldn’t remember anything from the old world, yet the moment you gazed upon the fireworks lighting up the sky; you remembered them instantaneously. You remembered their putrid smell, how loud they could be, and the fear you used to harbor for them when you were younger.

Even if you used to be scared of them, even if you thought they were too loud and hated the way they smelled; at this moment, you thought they were the prettiest things you’ve ever seen.

Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes and it was only until you felt them run down your cheeks that you paid them any mind. Though before you could even attempt to wipe them, you felt the distinct sensation of leather gently running across your cheek.

2B stood at your side, looking down at you with a small smile on her face, one you gladly returned. She doesn’t ask you the reason for your tears, nor does she look hurt by their appearance. She lets you be, standing at your side for as long as you allow her whilst providing unspoken support. It warmed you to the deepest part of your heart. Her kindness, although silent and unvoiced, was always apparent to you. She cared deeply for you. You didn’t need her to say it for you to know.

Your hand slips into hers all too naturally and under the crackling fireworks above, you think of only the promising future.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

extra:

“Why do you like to carry me so much?”

The question was asked more straightforward than what they were used to hearing from you. If there was anything 2B and 9S learned from their journey with you so far, it was that you never said what you felt. You looked for gentler ways to word your questions as if your care would be understood by androids who had no grasp of discretion.

2B, like always, never fails to leave your question unanswered and replies as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Because you’re warm.”

2B’s forthright reply even shocked 9S who was walking alongside her. “2B! Don’t you think that’s a little. . .”

You blushed slightly at her reply, burying your face against her shoulder as if that would take away from your embarrassment. From your place on her back, you were unable to see what kind of face she was making. As if that damned blindfold would give you the opportunity anyway. Though you doubted she would feel even a pinch of shame. 2B spoke nothing but the truth and that only made her words all the more brazen.

“What? You don’t agree?” She pauses in her steps, turning towards him which then forces you to face him as well. “Have you never touched her?”

You felt as if you would just die right then and there, yet you can’t help yourself from timidly peeking out at 9S from over 2B’s shoulder. He looks like he’s in thought for a moment, with a gloved hand on his chin and his lips twisted to the side. There’s only a moment’s delay between 2B’s question and his answer.

“Well. . . yeah, you’re not wrong. She’s even nicer to hug.”

Having enough of this conversation, you raise up your head to throw 9S a light glare. “Guys, can we please just get back to camp already?”

Throwing his hands up, 9S cheekily grins at you before continuing down the road towards the resistance camp. 2B follows shortly after him, her lips spread into an equally amused smile. While it might have been normal for 9S to show emotion resembling that of a human’s the feeling that stirred in 2B’s chest was quite foreign to her. She didn’t know what to call this feeling, but she didn’t hate it. It was a delightful buzz, one that she often felt around you and only you.

“Humans are softer than I imagined.” She added, her smile brightening at the sound of your muffled groan.

9S didn't hesitate to tag in on the teasing even from his place further ahead of you. “You know, I think we should include that in our report to the Commander. . .”

“Guys!”

[needleandhammer]

From Simmer to Score

Pairing: Soft!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: Curtis is good with his hands. And other stuff.

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, smut, oral sex, penetration, fingering, dub con breeding, unprotected sex, breeding kink sort of, size kink, petite!reader, Curtis' fingers

Word count: 4k

A/N: This doesn't really fit the prompt i chose from @stargazingfangirl18 's 5k Soft Dark Challenge: "You hire a local handyman to help you with a few home projects." But the prompt still inspired this. I wanted to take the prompt somewhere more explicitly dark but once again my contribution to this challenge turned marshmallow soft. This is an au, non-apocalypse au, normal life au, idk. Just self-indulgent. Also, it was a struggle finding a gif of clean Curtis. Because he's clean in this and not living on a train, i swear.

“Try again. Very good. Let’s have you run through the exercises and then we’ll take a look at the new homework."

At your smile, the little girl nods and quickly turns to concentrate on coordinating her footwork on the pedals of your old Altenberg while reading the notes in front of her.

You back away, heading to the kitchen for some iced tea. You nearly forget your other guest who sits at the table.

This is the third time he’s accompanied Wendy for her lessons. For a man of his size, Curtis makes no sound except the faint swish of pages turning in his book. Like before, he arrived with Wendy, nodded a greeting at you, waited for your invitation to the kitchen, and then spent the entire hour silently reading.

You pull the fridge door open and pour tea into three glasses. You quietly slide one towards him. Curtis’ eyes flicker up to you, brilliantly blue, and he gives you a low murmur.

“Thanks.”

You’re about to return to Wendy when you hear your name in Curtis’ smooth baritone.

He nods to the notepad left on the table. “I, uh, noticed your reminder to call for maintenance. Something wrong?”

“Oh.” You tidy up the table, sheepish at being caught procrastinating house chores. “Just needed a second look at the water heater. The repair company came by and we tested things out when they were done, but the next day I had no hot water.”

You grimace, thinking of taking another cold shower.

“If you’re okay with it, I can grab my tool bag from my car and take a look,” he says.

You’re not prepared for the offer. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

He shakes his head, no hesitance. “I don’t mind at all. As long as you don’t.”

“I mean. I-I would really appreciate the help.”

Your time with Wendy ends after you review practice goals with her until her next lesson.

Curtis joins you two. “Hot water is running again.”

Your jaw drops and you skip to the kitchen. Hot water pours out of your faucet. You return, unable to resist grinning widely at him.

“Thank you, Curtis. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Curtis taught my dad everything about fixing houses!” Wendy chirped. He offers her a crooked smile.

“Do you have everything?” you ask your young pupil.

While Wendy thanks you and you help her pack, Curtis watches on with a faint curve to his lips.

“Edgar’s changing over to late shifts for the next couple of months. I’ll probably be driving Wendy to lessons again.”

You nod. “Sounds good. See you both then.”

After they leave, you enjoy a glorious steamy shower and then you settle onto your couch with a plate of leftover grilled veggies and fish.

Reviewing your schedule, you consider taking on one or two more students. It was years ago that you gave private lessons to help pay for college. Nearly a decade of moving between a few jobs, you are now in a quiet suburb working with a team of digital designers. The job allows you to work from home half the week, a flexibility you take great appreciation in. The professional stability encouraged you to return to music and to helping others develop their musical interests.

Wendy is your only student at the moment as you want to ease into taking on this additional responsibility. You smile, recalling your initial meeting with Wendy and her father, Edgar. Her father’s bubbly energy is such a stark contrast to Curtis. Edgar opened up quickly, sharing that he and Wendy’s mother were no longer together, that he would support whatever Wendy wanted to do. There was a perpetually youthful vigor to the room when Edgar was present.

Wendy calls Curtis, Uncle, and his adoration for her is clear. He barely said two words when he was here the first time. It doesn’t bother you. You get the impression Curtis purposely tries to not draw attention to himself, and you can empathize with that preference for tranquility.

_ _ _ _

It’s a windy day, heavy with rain clouds, the next time Wendy and Curtis are over.

“I saw your screen door was down. Planning on replacing it?” Curtis asks when you wrap up with Wendy.

“Nah. I was just going to look up what I would need and try fixing it myself.”

“It’s kind of heavy.”

His tone doesn’t imply any skepticism aimed at you and you’re not offended. You’re used to people calling you ‘small,’ though you’re not small so much as you’re short. You like to think you take up ample space. You also admit strength is not something you have in abundance. Your whole life you relied on family and friends for a lot of literal heavy lifting. But Curtis already helped you out once.

“I could fix it up.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s no bother, really. I’m happy to help out.”

He promises to be quick about it. While he works, Wendy happily practices on your piano.

“I have Oreos,” you announce.

She pauses to grab a cookie. “Thank you so much for letting me practice longer.”

“Of course, dear.”

She chats a bit about her upcoming birthday plans, as children are wont to do.

Curtis pops his head in. “All set. Do you want to take a look?”

You follow him out back. Swinging the screen door on its hinges, you nodded appraisingly.

“I suppose it passes inspection.” You look up with a cheeky smile, pleased to see Curtis’ lips twitching. “Thank you. Really, Curtis. I do wish you’d let me pay you.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Besides, you’re great with Wendy. I’m grateful for that.”

You can tell he loves Wendy just as much as if he was her father. “In that case, I shall give Wendy her next lesson for free.”

He blinks at you, trailing behind as you make your way inside and calling out to Wendy.

Curtis has resigned himself to a quiet, bare life. He doesn't think he wants anything much. He has Edgar’s loyalty, a result of the brotherhood he formed in his impoverished teen years. They survived together, looked out for each other. Once Wendy came along like a little star burning in a smoggy midnight, Curtis counted himself lucky to witness the little girl growing up. A chance to help nourish one seed.

The first time he arrived with Wendy at your home, Curtis couldn’t help listening in on the entire lesson, making no progress in his book. Your clear voice, your generous encouragement. You, light on your feet moving so swiftly. You, barely reaching his shoulders yet mighty in spirit, curvy and sensuous. Curtis had an urge to lift you in his palms to be stored safely in his pocket.

_ _ _ _

And so things follow. Wendy diligently learning and Curtis primarily accompanying her, taking his place at your kitchen table. You come to enjoy his steady, grounding presence just a couple steps away from you and Wendy.

Now and then, he’ll notice some upkeep you’re doing – a leaky faucet, a box of new light bulbs on your counter – and volunteer his assistance. You are reluctant to put him to work, sure that he spends enough of his days working and doing chores in his own home and besides these are tasks you can handle even if you find them tedious. Curtis is always gentle in his offers, always obtains your permission first. As time goes by and you grow less shy about accepting his help and he grows more comfortable in your space, you realize working with his hands is second nature to Curtis.

It doesn't take long for Curtis to admit to himself he wants to be near you.

Curtis doesn’t meddle. He doesn’t mingle. He doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. He is aware you thrived on your own for a long time, just like him; and like he has Edgar and Wendy, you have a small close-knit group of friends. Lending a hand to you doesn’t count because you are like him.

Maybe this is why he lets his guard down under your roof. There is something kindred in your calm nature that his soul responds to. Under your roof, no silences need to be filled; no pretenses forced upon him. Your invitation to rest is unspoken – he hears it and almost weeps. The more time he spends with you, like two wavelengths in tune, the stronger his urge to insert himself. To fix, or in some way leave his mark on your home. Curtis doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. Lending a hand to you didn't count. Until he cannot help it. He doesn’t reach out for you, doesn’t try to prove you’ll curve perfectly within his arms; but he’ll ensure your softness can curl up in a sturdy home and delight in simple pleasures.

One evening, when Edgar works later than usual, you ask if Wendy and Curtis would join you for dinner.

“Nothing fancy. I have some noodle soup and salad. Curtis, can you call Edgar to meet us here?”

Wendy sets the table. Curtis assists with the food.

He’s quick to cup your hand in his when it's nicked with a knife. You can’t help leaning into him as he runs your finger under water, wraps it in clean paper towel. He finishes with the salad, making you sit at the table.

Edgar joins you all, tired but quickly gaining energy with food and a few sips of wine. You are full and warmed by their company. While Edgar cheers on Wendy while she practices from her book, you feel Curtis’ fingers curl over your hand. His thumb brushes over your cut. You share a smile with him.

_ _ _ _

You settle into your little Toyota only to find it won’t start. It stumps you because you never had issues with this car before. You have no experience with car maintenance and don’t know the first thing to check for an engine that won’t wake.

Calling Curtis to see if you can reschedule, he insists that he can swing by to pick you up.

He had called you, his voice almost shy. He wanted to surprise Wendy for her birthday with a piano and asked for your help.

You direct Curtis to the string instruments shop in the city’s downtown area. The two of you are greeted by a sales staff upon entry. When asked, Curtis looks to you, wordless, so you do your best to describe to the salesperson what you're looking for.

There are several options of acoustic and digital instruments. You give little demonstrations on a few pianos that you consider reasonably priced.

“Curtis, check this one out.” Your hold on his sleeve is loose and propels him towards one of the upright Baldwin pianos.

“I think any of these would suit Wendy. The sounds are clear, and they don’t take up too much space. The salesperson said this one is second-hand and it’s in really good shape.” You press a few chords, then look up at Curtis with a smile.

He looks at you, gaze gentle. “I’m not worried about price. I’ll take whatever you recommend.”

That was his general response when you asked his opinion during your time in the shop: he was up for anything you recommended. Other than that, he trailed behind you so that the salesperson assumed you were the primary purchaser. Much like in your house, Curtis seemed to try hard to not draw attention. Oddly, you didn’t think anyone in the same room with him could help noticing him. Even with the dark apparel he favored, Curtis’ reserved nature can't hide all the intensity and strength just thrumming beneath the surface of his tall imposing build.

You convince him to sit beside you on the bench. He’s never played before, but humors you and tries random combinations of thirds with you. You watch his hands – clean, wide, with thick fingers – hover and slide along the keys.

He nudges you.

“Sorry. I was just impressed your sausage fingers are quite nimble.”

A half-hearted glare. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

“If I say you’re welcome, will you take a look at my car when we get back?”

He stays for dinner.

It starts raining and you have to rush out to gather hanging linens. He helps and you both run back inside. You're giddy at his eagerness to assist, resulting in damp clothing on you both.

“Oh, let’s dump it here. I’ll fold it tomorrow.” You are happy to leave the laundry in a pile on an armchair, in too good of a mood to care.

You catch him with his attention on you, a look so soft you have to look away, walk blindly a few steps. His touch is on your arm, turning you around just as you reach the piano.

He dips his head low to press chapped lips to yours, capturing your lips more, closing in to envelope you in his heat.

Curtis’ hands grip your hips with a quick jostle against the piano, prompting a slur of bright notes ringing from the keyboard that you are pressed against. And then he’s hitching you further up and firmly in his arms. His tongue licks against yours. You slant your open mouth, inviting him to taste, to devour you from the inside out. Your legs wrap around his waist like you belong there, tethered to this point in time. There’s no past or future, only Curtis, only feeling safe and real in his arms now now now.

You barely register Curtis moving, tipping you onto the couch cushions to hover over you so close. You can’t remember burning for someone like this. You can’t remember much of anything, focused on Curtis, solid and unyielding between your thighs, muscles buzzing with raw strength.

You want so badly to know more of him. Your hands wander shamelessly under his shirt, sliding up his wide back, grazing under to squeeze appreciatively at his pecs only to be called south by a narrowing of hair that leads you on until you bump his belt buckle.

You’re distracted by the tease of hot kisses he drops along your neck. There’s something sweet, vulnerable in how you allow him access to the delicate skin there. It makes Curtis bury his nose against the crook of your jaw, a long moment for him to whisper something like a prayer, before his tongue swirls and he nibbles your ear lobe. Your high pitched gasp hastens his desire. Your shirt is gone. Your bra untangled from your arms. Your breasts, oh, Curtis takes a mouthful of one fleshy breast, sucking greedily when you moan, breathless and aching now.

You claw at his shirt until it too disappears. You wriggle to help Curtis pull your pants and underwear off. Your legs want to yank him back to you, but he braces himself to allow just a bit more space between you both than before.

“Let me.” It’s almost a growl, and you want to say yes, but you want to kiss him more. You’re clinging by his neck, drinking from his soft lips, until you both part to draw breath.

His hand caresses your cheek, sliding over to slip two fingers into your slack mouth. Your tongue swipes at them, lips close to suck them in, eager to touch and taste any part of him. Jaw tight, Curtis pulls his fingers away and down. Down. His hand spans large over your curves and you hold your breath, grit your teeth. One finger saturated with saliva, sinks into your cunt. You swear you can feel more arousal dripping from you to soak his hand and he adds another finger, drawing short whimpers from you as his fingers withdraw and plunge in. God, you won’t ever tease him about his fingers again because they’re perfect. Agonizing in their quest to undo you.

His voice is husky groans, wanting so bad to feel your oh so tight cunt around his cock. Soon.

He tortures you, adds a third finger. You’re riding them, whimpering as he pumps them in you and parts the digits to stretch you. His weight slides away and you can only grasp at his hair, you’re barely glimpsing his head between your legs before you arch high when his thick wet tongue swirls and licks your folds, dialing up the white hot blooming inside you. His fingers curl just enough inside to press that patch against your pelvis that strings you tight as a bow. Pressing insistently, scratching with finger pads, until you burst and all you can do is chase more of that pulsing pleasure, humping against his face. Your hips quiver while Curtis laps at your slit.

His sucks grow gentle, thumb teasing your bud, helping you come down from the intense high.

You sigh his name.

“I’m here.”

“I want you.”

His arms wind around you, holding you tight while he kisses you. You can’t remember feeling anything better than being cradled like this as Curtis languidly kisses you.

He’s not rushed to move from you, so you cling to him and he loves you for it. Yes, he’s hard, but he wants to savor this. Already high on the sensation of your soft flesh underneath him, your thick thighs tight at his waist, your quiet hums of pleasure the evidence of his thorough work.

He ran from his past, from early years strife with despair, washing away those memories like dust and grime. He thought his life of isolation was one that moved him forward; but he has been stuck all this time.

Seeing you care for Wendy, Curtis realized he wanted that. He wanted what his friend had. He wanted you, and the precious something conceived between two souls that sing for one another. Soon. He’ll make your sweet little body his to protect, to warm through the nights.

_ _ _ _

“Thanks so much for having us for dinner,” Edgar says. He was been watching Wendy run around your humble backyard, chasing butterflies and searching for little frogs. He turns to you with a toothy grin. “And for your help with the gift. Wendy’s going to flip. I’m lucky to have you and Curtis both around.”

Your smile is just as affectionate. “Happy to have you here. Although,” your smile turns sly, “I’m a little disappointed that your special lady friend didn’t join us.”

“Curtis,” Edgar mutters under his breath. Curtis is washing dishes at the sink and pays no mind to any half-hearted curses directed at him.

Your brow arches, urging Edgar to talk as he can't help an embarassed grin.

“Well, she was traveling for work, unfortunately. But I know Wendy doesn’t mind her.”

The girl has whispered to you that Edgar’s girlfriend is beautiful and she wished she would become her new mom; this you keep to yourself, not wishing to embarrass or pressure your friend further.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Edgar’s eyes slide sideways, quiet for a moment before he jumps out of his seat and heads to the door leading to the backyard. “I’ll just…uh…” He exits, trailing off without finishing his sentence.

You sigh and take another bite of your cake, indulging in the moist chocolate flavor. Glancing up, you find Curtis watching you. His attention is singular, a warm simmer in those bright blue eyes, causing you to freeze except for your tongue that finishes sweeping over your upper lip. His gaze narrows, grew weighty, tracking your tongue as it retreats into your mouth. He pushes away from the counter, steps close until he is able to drop to his knee beside your chair. One strong yank has your seat turning so you face him.

The door creaks open again.

“Well, the sun’s getting low so I think we’ll head home and wind down.” Edgar announces with his daughter close at his side. He has a boyish grin on his face, pulling Wendy towards the front of your house. "Wendy, say good bye.”

“Isn’t Curtis leaving too?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll leave when he’s ready.”

“Have a good night, you two,” you say, walking with them to the front. Though Edgar is still cheerfully thanking you for the meal and insisting you stay inside and not see them off.

“You go on and just have a good time, both of you.” He sends a wink your way. You shake your head at him. “Curtis! You be a gentleman now.”

Quick as he can, he has Wendy secured in the car and they are on their way.

“Huh.” You lock the front door before turning to find Curtis. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes at Edgar’s antics. Instead, he closes in on you.

“Are you worried about me not being a gentleman?” he murmurs. His fingers hook under yours loosely.

You smirk. “I’m worried about you being too much of a gentleman.”

That smolder returns to his gaze. For a second, your body shivers, overwhelmed and you side step him, if only for a moment’s relief from the heat of his eyes.

You reach out. He takes your hand.

Once you’re down a layer, he grows even hotter seeing the mesh and lace number you have on. A tantalizing tease with the hard peaks of your nipples veiled in barely-there maroon. Just daring him to unwrap you. So he does.

His mouth leaves a wet trail seeking sensitive spots on your neck, you breasts, your thighs. Even as he moves, he still covers nearly all of your body, his heat and weight drowning you in want.

Your shudder has him grazing his beard up the inside of your thigh so that you arch and plea for his touch. God, all your uninhibited responses spur the blazing hunger in him. Curtis peels the mesh underwear down, impatient for a taste of you. His mouth waters, catching wafts of arousal and then he’s sucking and lapping your wet pussy. His rumbling groan is like a physical nudge that bows your back, and you remain rigid in the air at the sensation of his thick tongue pushing into you. Wide shoulders part your legs, shifting until your thighs rest on vast muscles.

You rock against him, keen at the hard sucks. Two fingers dip into, fucking you and rubbing with a dizzying rhythm that brings you over the edge.

With little effort, he holds up your hips and you feel a pillow slide under you to angle you higher. Then his muscled arms hook under your knees and he finally lines up and rocks forward. The tip of his cock parts your folds. Your breath hitches. His cock slides in, forcing your walls to stretch, to mold tightly to his girth.

“Curtis” – your hand was going point to the little bedside table with condoms.

Instead, you’re gripping a blanket. Gasping as he withdraws and your pussy tries to hold him in.

You mumble against his lips, incoherent. “The…inside..”

And then he feeds you his length again. And again, that delicious, addicting friction.

"Yes, inside," he agrees softly. "Like this."

With every pump, the spark catches and blazes higher. Curtis rises onto his knees, thrusts harder, watching your eyes flutter open and shut. He’s panting with the pretty picture of a needy you. He grips your thighs. As if his life depends on how tight he clutches you. Concentrating hard, his eyes drop low. Fuck. He can see your pussy clench, your puffy outer lips suckling his cock. Curtis swears your little body is refusing to give him up, and you’re wet but your cunt squeezes him so tight he has to drive harder into you to avoid slipping out.

You’re not even aware of your breathy moans, so turned on by his groans, the rough thrusts he gives you. There’s no grinding. Curtis can tell he’s rubbed against your g-spot and he keeps his snapping hips angled just right, one callused thumb circling your clit too lightly. And then your breaths stutter, your legs seize, your back arches. Curtis grits his teeth, keeping the exact same pace, draws out the storm of your pleasure. It’s so consuming, you lose your voice.

Just as you are able to breathe again, able to sense the physical realm around you, Curtis speeds up, bucking hard with low grunts, powering into you.

A high gasp – you feel him flood you. He drops to press his chest to you, still pumping his release into your clenching walls; and it’s too much, his cock merciless within your sensitive channel. He can’t help it, even as your legs start writhing with his unrelenting stimulation, even as he hears your hitched whimpers.

He finally stills. His lips find yours, tongue stroking deep.

Long moments later, his name is gentle, falling from your lips. “We didn’t use protection.”

Curtis nuzzles you, rubs his nose along the planes of your cheeks. Returns to suck your bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

There’s a soft frown upon your brow that he kisses, and then scatters more kisses on your face.

“But, what if?”

“I want you. I want everything with you.”

You’re barely able to react as he nips hard at your collarbone and then rolls his hips. He’s half-hard inside you. You’re quickly losing yourself in Curtis, overwhelmed by the combination of his hungry mouth on your skin, unyielding clasp on your thigh. His thrusts persist, pins you in place, lights you up and scorches you. You’re right where he wants you, whining for more more more.

Now with each beat of his heart, Curtis has his mind’s eye on the prize. He’ll have you over and over. And you’ll grow a piece of him inside you. You are the way forward. You are his.

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A/N: Hurrah, this one felt like it took forever. I blame Curtis. He didn't give himself up to me easily. Let me love you, ya broody boi! Thank you for reading!