#lil far away still but there nonetheless

[fitgothgirl]

Officially asked my manager to be cross-trained to bartending! He’s going to talk to the bar manager to see if they have the hours to give. 🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼

Also I called my bank and worked out a financial hardship thing for my credit card. It’s maxed out and I can’t even afford the monthly payments themselves. I had heard it was possible to work out a deal with your bank (depending on your bank), where you close out the account but the APR goes to zero or almost zero, and the monthly bill is greatly lowered. Well they did have that option, but they offered something even better where my account is just restricted for a year - I can’t use the card at all and my monthly payments went from almost $700 to $300 and the APR from 19.5% to 1%; but then after a year everything goes back to normal! So I don’t have to take a hit to my credit score or close my oldest line of credit, and I can use the next year to get as much paid off as possible.

Considering that, and the fact that I owe my FIL $2000 in backpay for rent when I was unemployed, and the fact that I’m still working only part time (hopefully only for a short while longer though with this bartending request), I think 2025 is going to be a “no spend” year. 😅

It’s freeing to “not have” a credit card though. Like I still have the payments and I’ll get it back eventually, but just the fact that I literally can’t use it no matter how much I want for a full year. I need this lol. I haven't been credit-cardless since I was a teenager, and I've honestly never been good with money regardless. I need to friggin learn. Tbh it would probably best to not have it at all but I don't want to do that to my credit history if I don't have to. I should just cut the card up.

Ooh speaking of money, I got just got a Meowtel request! 🙌🏼😸 Would be surcharged too since it would be New Years. 🤑

[kingdomoftyto]

Glad to see Yuri's refusal to properly button his shirts is a universal constant that even knighthood can't change

[novulen]

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ : the jjk men n the ‘gifts’ they’d give u for valentines 💌!

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛꜱ/ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : 18+ (mdni), smut, oral (male receiving), cum!!, throat fucking, somewhat rough sex, toys, overstimulating, slight BDSM (Geto), (doll, baby, good girl) used to address reader, overall filthy☺️

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ : Toji, Nanami, Gojo, n Geto

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓. ೋ

On the day of valentines, Toji gifts you roses, and perhaps whatever you’ve been talking about–believe it or not, he does listen when you ramble on and on about the little mini skirts you want, but for a sole purpose.

“Take it all–mhm, give me a lil’ show too, yeah?” Toji mumbles, watching as you take most, if not all, of his girthy cock down your little throat. A big hand of his slides down to your ass, admiring the little patterns and the light pink color of your mini skirt, especially eyeing the way the material covers little to nothing, revealing the thong kept underneath. “Fuck,” he groans, taking a handfull of your ass in his hands, feeling himself get impossibly harder simply by how soft all of you feels.

“T-Tojhi..” you murmur, mouth too full of cock to speak, and your pathetic little sounds come out muffled. Yet, amused, Toji grins. “No need for speaking, doll, jus’ keep sucking,”

And you do. but, when he cums down your throat, with such a huge load of hot seed in your mouth, you can’t help but cry out as your mouth’s filled with warmth.

“‘S too m–,” you sob, pleading for a chance of relieving your lungs from breathlessness though Toji is ruthless, still thrusting up into your mouth even as your manicured nails dig into the flesh of his muscular thighs.

“Mm-hm, but y’r gonna swallow it all, aren’t ya?” he hums, a noise of deep satisfaction booming from his own throat as you nod obediently, not wasting a second in swallowing all of his cum, as impossible as you deemed it from the moment he came.

And after such a satisfactory session, Toji can’t help but pull you close to him, skin to skin in the moment. “I should buy you more mini skirts, eh, what’d ya say?”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊. ೋ

Wholeheartedly will go all out. Gets you things you’d talked about ages ago–so much so that you yourself sometimes forget you’d spoken of such–dresses, purses, skirts, lingerie.

“Kento,” you mewl, unable to bear through the incessant shocks of ecstasy rocking through your body with each of his thrusts. You reach out for him, hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders, and hold on for dear life.

The beautiful set of red lingerie he’d bought for you is almost no more, ripped to shreds the moment you’d walked out the bathroom. It’s as if something that isn’t your husband has taken you, given the way he’s somewhat mercilessly fucking into your cunt, groaning deliciously vulgar words in your ear.

“So–hah–so fucking beautiful,” Nanami grunts, planting his forehead, sticky with perspiration, to yours lovingly. You moan as the feeling of him takes over your whole body, his scent, his breath hot against your skin, and his deep groans all prove to be too much–too much at the same time, at the very least.

He’s soon spilling himself inside you, moaning praises and everlasting statements of love into your ear, and you’re not far behind him. “Oh–god,” you whimper, womb filling to the hilt with your husband’s cum, and you can't think of a better way to end such a day.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒. ೋ

Like Nanami, although he’s much more of the reckless type when buying gifts. Sometimes even gets you things you don’t want, but you find it cute nonetheless. Although, you were surprised to see a little pink vibrator at the bottom of the bag he’d given you.

The more he presses down on your clit, the more the pleasure seems to burn. And Satoru might chuckle from your reaction, but his body’s tensing, his hands are losing their patience, and his cock is hardening in his pants.

“‘Toru, t-take it away, I can’t–,” you attempt to plead, closing your legs around the hand that’s keeping the toy flush to your pussy, but he refuses, shaking his head with a sly grin. Satoru only hushes you, and for trying to clamp down on his arm, he ups the power of the vibrator.

“C’mon, baby. ‘S just a lil’ stimulation, yeah? I’ll put my cock in ya soon.” he breaths, breath hot against your pulse point as he leans in to place kisses. Your back arches up from the sheets, sensitive nipples rubbing against the black fabric of his compression shirt, the added stimulation causing your third orgasm of the day to crash over you.

“See? Good girl.” he praises, finally gracing you the relief you’ve been begging of him, removing the toy from your clit, slick and other fluids dribbling from you. “Now you get to have me.”

But, even when he says those words as if it's some blessing, you, on the other hand, can’t find it in you to give him another. Knowing Satoru, and his inhuman sex drive, you’ll perhaps be here until night.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒. ೋ

Knows what you want but will try to ask you (at least somewhat sneakily) days beforehand. Always gets you the perfect amount of things–though this time, he’s given you more than you bargained for.

“Hm–you wanna touch me?” Suguru grins, greedy eyes raking over your body, soft and malleable in his hold. You’re on your fours, head pushed into the pillows, and as if that’s not enough, Suguru thought to tie your hands behind your back.

It’s almost malicious the way he chuckles–he can’t admit seeing this desperate side of his bratty girlfriend has brought out something in him.

“Please.” you mumble against the mountain of pillows he's pushed your face into, saliva dribbling down your cheeks onto the satin sheets. But, your pleas fall on deaf ears, given that Suguru’s in his own world.

Each of his pounding thrusts sends you jolting forwards, the only thing keeping you down being the strong hands planted firmly to your hips. He leans down, exhales fanning by your ear, as his hands simultaneously slide up to take a handful of your hair, pulling your head back just enough for you to wince in stinging pain.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, baby? Don’t tell me you’re backing down now.” he mumbles into your skin, tongue darting out to lick a line up to your ears. Once he figures that he’s shut you up, he hums in approval.

“Good. Lay there and take all of me.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

I keep bothering u for homicipher stuff I’m so sorry 😭

But imagine trying to fold laundry but Mr. Crawling is all >:( abt it bc he wants to cuddle you on top of the fresh warm pile of clothes so u give in and take a lil nap 🥹

It’s absolutely fine! I need my dose of homicipher tbh at this rate.

You were just trying to get things done in yours and Mr Crawling’s shared living space, but Mr crawling seemed to have something against this attempt at productivity, for he would either hide it somewhere you couldn’t find anywhere or just do his best impression of a spoilt dog who’s acting like he doesn’t get fed just so you could cuddle and take a nap with him.

A neat little trick that he’s learned quite recently works wonders in his favour.

The very same trick that he was using on you right now as you worked diligently in folding clothes on yours and Mr Crawling’s bed and putting them on their designated piles. You were focused so intently of your folding that you almost didn’t feel the arms at your waist until you felt Mr Crawling nudge his head against you, whining for your attention.

‘Sweetheart I can’t.’ You chuckled as you patted his head.

‘Cuddle. me!’ He pouts, nudging his head against you some more. In recent days mr Crawling’s efforts to communicate with you was improving, slowly but they were improving regardless. The best he got was a sentence or two but you were still extremely proud of your smart man nonetheless. ‘You can get cuddles after I’m done.’ You replied and Mr Crawling huffed as he tried to pull you away from your folding to pay attention to him, he didn’t like it when your focus was on something that wasn’t him, it made him feel things that he didn’t feel comfortable feeling.

‘Cuddle. Cuddle, cuddle.’ He chants as he lets go of your waist and proceeds to make his way onto the bed with a plan in mind as a wide, mischievous smile stretched across his lips, followed by the sound of his high pitched laughter that you’ve come to love. However that laugh was going to be your undoing for just as the word ‘no’ left your lips, Mr Crawling had already hoped up on the bed, making the piles of warm clothes fall into a massive heap as your long haired lover giggled and open up his arms to you.

‘Cuddle! Cuddle! Cuddle!’ He chants once more as he made grabby hands at you and while you tried to look annoyed by crossing your arms and huffing, you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny Mr Crawling his much needed cuddles, the very thing that you have denied him thus far in due to your recently lack of productivity. Mr crawling whines upon seeing that you weren’t cuddling him still and reached out to tug at your shirt, each tug being more desperate then the last as he tries to convey to you that he needed your touch.

‘Love me.’ Mr crawling pleaded with you as you felt your resolve break and crumble with ease as you smiled softly, taking his hand from your shirt and intertwining your fingers, as you then proceed to lay next to him in the semi-warm nest of clothing upon your bed. ‘Come get your living then sweetheart.’ You told him and Mr Crawling was already laying on your chest, holding onto you tightly, chirping softly when he could hear the comforting sound of your heart; his body relaxed atop of you when it recognised a place of safety.

You kissed his head and began stroking his back like you usually do when you cuddled, loving to hear your lover purr and express his love for you through purrs, chirps, mewls and kisses scattered across your collarbone and neck. You found yourself letting go and melting in his affection and even found yourself becoming sleepy in his embrace, its a feeling that you felt often when you cuddled up to Mr Crawling or he cuddled up to you, and it was also quite common that you become more affectionate as you were always found kissing some part of Mr Crawling -whether you knew it or not- for it just came naturally to you.

‘I love you sweetheart.’ You whispered against his head.

‘Love you too.’ Mr crawling replied softly as he drifted off to sleep, though not before planting one more kiss to your neck. You rested your head against his and stayed away for a few moments, looking at the mess you both made but decided that this would be a problem for future you, and not long after promising yourself that you’ll be productive tomorrow before falling asleep to join Mr Crawling in his dreams.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Hi! I know you just wrote a cockwarming fic with Alastor, but I was just wondering if you would be able to do one with Lucifer? I’m drooling just thinking about it. Thank you!

absolutely i don’t mind doing the same shtick but with other characters! i took a similar approach kinkwise but obviously it’s still different, hope you enjoy <3

warnings: cockwarming, lucifer is kinda a sub but not entirely, exhibitionism, not caught this time, creampie, gn reader i think in terms of body, lucifer calls you birdy, kinky reader and kinky luci, also not proofread, swearing and some dirty talk lmk if i missed any!!

word count: 1.4K

You sat on Lucifers lap, toying with his hair that peeked out of his hat. Lucifer insisted he had company to one of his all important long of hell meetings, however things went left when Mammon urged the king to come to one of his performances, that was definitely for the kings benefit and not just so Mammon could leech off his fame. So there you two sat, up in your own custom web which Lucifer was very much against but Mammon was pushy persuasive. So far things had been a bore, you sat on Lucifers lap paying more attention to the intricacies on his suit rather than the clowns on stage. Lucifer also seemed pretty bored, huffing and puffing occasionally, while muttering into your ear about how this was a scam or how he’d done this act a thousand times, needless to say you both be better off back at his home.

Eyeing up his bored face you casually traced your fingers along his jaw. “Hey Luce,” You whispered to him softly, his eyes casting down to you. “Wanna have a lil fun?” You grinned cheekily wiggling your hips against his, immediately he sucked in a breath, eyes closing. Lucifer wasn’t really good at hiding the need he had for you, often he would crumble under your hands, rarely he decided to be big and domineering, he much preferred when you had the power over him. Felt nice giving up power to someone after all the rest of his eternal life in hell there was no other choice but to stay in power.

“Whatever you want, birdy.” He cooed, eyes casted toward the stage acting as though he was indifferent to you. You unzipped the zipper on his white slacks, and reached your hand inside to palm his soft member. He wasn’t really insecure about being soft around you he was quite prideful in his body no matter the state, occasionally he’d feel not good enough but that typically had nothing to do with his looks, which you admit to being quite jealous of. You palmed him through his briefs, head rested on his shoulder you were annoyed at how the collar of his coat got in the way of his neck, prohibiting you from leaving pretty bruise marks on him. The king twitched, and coughed out fakely to cover the groans he wanted to make, he couldn’t help how sensitive he was when it came to you, it was like you had this spell on him.

Wiggling yourself closer to him you whispered to him, lips dragging sinfully across his ear. “What if somebody sees you like this Luci?” You purr mockingly, you knew he probably wouldn’t give a fuck, he’s been through too much as a king and a fallen angel to care about such things, nonetheless, hearing your scrutinizing tone furthered his arousal. He wasn’t, however, proud of the noise he made when your hand came up to tug at his hair at the base of his neck. “Ohhh golly,” Lucifer groaned beginning in a moan, he quickly fixed his mouth to act as though he was reacting to the show. “You want them to see us, don’t you?” You urged, feeling him grown and stiffen beneath you, it made your thighs clench with need, and suddenly you were onto more devious ideas. Lifting your garments, you pulled your underwear to the side as discreetly as you could. Lucifers eyes fixed on you, brown raised in confusion. “Cmon, let’s relax hm?” You asked, pulling his semi from the restraints of his briefs, pecking his lips as you did so. His eyes closed immediately, mouth chasing your lips as you pulled away, and who were you to deny such a good boy?

Leaning back in you hummed into him, his lips warm and soft, you could feel his lashes flutter against your face as your faces tilted, allowing eachother better access. You sneakily slipped onto him, wincing at the pain that you felt, however Lucifers arms came around to your thighs, helping you slow your pace. You felt every inch of him against your walls, it was hard to not whimper at the feeling of him slotted in you.

As your tongues sloppily danced together, the clown music played in the background, Glitz and Glam came up to perform, and the crowd cheered on. Beside your web was the greed king himself Mammon, who was too observed in the show to notice the fact you and Lucifer were swallowing each other whole. While the two of you sloppily kissed, saliva smearing across each others lips, your body naturally relaxed into his effectively sinking yourself down and bottoming out on his full erect cock.

Sighing against him in revelled in the feeling of him fully inside you, while also enjoying the way he trembled beneath you, not feeling the need to hide any of his desire from you. You pulled away abruptly leaving Lucifer whining, and starry eyed. Jerking up into you Lucifer smiled smuggly at the way you gasped, air entirely escaping your lungs. “How mean Luci,” You chide playfully lovelingly cupping his cheek. Leaning into your warmth the devil melted against your touch practically purring at you. “What can i say birdy, i’m eager to hear you. My favourite sound.” You could tell by the dreamy way he spoke he was already fucked out, and you’ve not even fucked yet.

Pecking his cheek you swatted his chest when he tried once again to grind into you. “No moving, whoever cums first has to call and talk on the phone while the other fucks em silly.” You grin wildly gripping his shoulders, you loved a good frisky game of fun, especially with Lucifer, you found it easy to participate in these types of games. Groaning lowly the devil rolled his neck, hands wrapping around your waist tightly. “Alright, but i'm totally gonna win.” Lucifer stated confidently, his red eyes flipping between you and the show. Glitz and Glam gone, there was some unnamed clown you’d never seen now entertaining the crowd, they seemed to like him.

You wiggled your hips subtly, trying to turn your body around a bit more toward the stage. Part of you wanted the distraction, part of you wanted to tease, either way it was purposeful. “Ohhohoo- you are- really playing dirty,” The king stressed, his tone jumping around anxiously as his claws tug into your thighs, undoubtedly drawing some blood. You hummed out an ‘mhm’ swirling hips round in a manner that could appear as innocent shifting to the outside eye looked casual. Lucifer moaned, curling into the back of your shoulder to bite down. You could feel him twitching almost like a throb, you weren’t helping with your involuntary contractions around his cock. “Alright sweetie calm down!” The king urged his voice breathy and panicked as he tried to stall your movements by clenching his arms around you. Unfortunately all that did was drag you nearer, feeling the entire length of him inside you grazing the delicate areas that made you tick.

You choked on your spit surprised by the abrupt sensation, your back arching away from him as you attempted to gain a little friction. “Lucifer please don’t,” You whined clutching his forarms that were flexed tightly around your torso. You could feel him nuzzling into your back, his heart beating wildly in his chest, then suddenly without any word, he was cumming. He moaned into your shoulder blades, bucking what he could up into you, rocking both your bodies, anything to get you to milk him. He continued to wiggle around recklessly, you clenched and whimpered at the feeling of him filling you, he always had so much in him. Finally after a moment his movement ceased, and like the devil he is, he snaked his hands around to play with you. You moaned as he whispered dirty things in your ear, “Who’s all needy now huh?,” “Cmon i need you raining off this web before we go,” things like that as he brought you to your orgasm.

You saw stars as you came, his dick still snuggly inside you as you clenched and came undone around him, head thrown back in bliss. After a moment of catching your breath you peered around, humility coming back into you, you spun around speedily, burying your face in Lucifers neck, who looked just as fucked out as you were. “Guess we gotta do this again over the phone?” Lucifer asked breathlessly, you huffed out a laugh at that. “Yep, loser.” You teased already thinking up all the naughty things you could put him through while he’s on call.

[alltheirdamn]

Diamond Dolls | Joel x stripper!f!reader

Chapter I : Diamond Dolls Club

Series Summary: Running from the past led you straight into the arms of club owner, Joel Miller. He’s quiet, respectful, and devastatingly handsome. He’s nothing like any man you’ve come across, and it’s so hard to keep your heart guarded when he’s tearing down the walls. Chapter Summary: After fleeing Miami, you find yourself a spot at Diamond Dolls, and meet Joel Miller. The man who can change everything. Rating: 18+ Word Count: 7.2k Warnings: No-Outbreak AU, Joel is in his early 40s reader is in her mid-20s, mentions of alcohol, strip club setting, nudity, sexual tension, mutual pining, eventual smut, explicit language… more tags will be added as the story goes A/N: Well, a very belated hello to everyone! I've been in the darkest recesses of a writers block, and had to drag myself to the surface to finally finish this one out. It's a slow start, but it's something nonetheless. Anyway, love you all lots and i hope you stick around for this lil story <3 xoxo

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

One week ago

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. You were holed up in the bathroom of a shady hotel, listening to the sound of pleasured moans coming from the bedroom. Your friend, Diana, had been going at it with some stranger for the last half hour, and you were scared. Private parties were typical for the dancers. In fact, Richie loved it. He loved being the type of owner who showcased all his dancers in whatever way he pleased. But you knew something was off when you stepped out of the black Escalade and into the hotel lobby. This type of party differed from the rest; you had this nagging feeling it would all go wrong.

And it did.

**

The sound of heels rattling inside your bag drifted through the empty parking lot as you neared your last resort. Diamond Dolls. Your gas tank—and lack of money—only got you as far as Austin, Texas. It wasn’t an ideal place to end up, but beggars can’t be choosers, so it would have to suffice. 

It was early afternoon, no doubt the slowest time of day since only a handful of cars were parked in the lot aside from yours. With the sun still shining, the neon pink lights of the sign above the door were turned off, but it still looked inviting. Diamond Dolls was already far different than your club back in Miami; it was different in a good way. 

At least, you hoped it was.

Cracking open the front door, you shuffled your bag over your shoulder and took a deep breath. This was your only shot at putting your life back on track, and you prayed you’d be given the chance to set things right. You couldn’t go back to Miami. Not now…not ever. The bridges you burnt could never be rebuilt; running away would only take you so far. 

A few patrons turned their heads your way when the sun streamed through the hazy club, no doubt an annoying reminder that the world still existed outside this tiny place. The entire club was drenched in low neon blacklights, the purple and pink hues painting the shadows in a sultry ambiance. Above you, diamond chandeliers hung from the ceiling, twinkling lights refracting off the gems that clung to the metal branches curving upward. The black leather couches around the stage were shiny and clean, another sign that this club was far better than where you came from. 

High-top tables scattered the open areas in the club's corner, tiny tea lights flickering on their marbled counters. Everything was meticulously detailed, as if whoever owned it had put all their effort into making this space unique and beautiful. 

Across the back was the bar; the counter stretched from end to end with an array of liquors stacked on glass shelves that hung from the wall. Behind the counter was a lone bartender busying himself with cleaning glasses. 

Perfect, you thought. This was your opportunity. 

“Hey,” you cautioned, walking up to the black countertop. “I was wondering if you guys are taking in any new dancers.”

“Can’t say for sure,” the bartender shrugged. 

He had a snug black top stretched across his chest and dirty blonde hair that stuck back along his scalp with too much gel. A few tattoos marked up his forearms, disappearing under the cuffs of his shirt and reappearing along the column of his neck. Instinctively, you knew he was well paid by any female clients who came into the club late at night. A few drinks and maybe a few flirtatious conversations made him a wealthy man by the end of his shifts. 

“Who should I be asking then?” You questioned, tapping your nails along the edge of the counter.

The bartender glared at your nails as they tapped repeatedly on the counter. You retracted your hand with an apologetic look, letting your arm hang heavy at your side. He bristled at your presence, obviously unamused by your friendly antics. Charm wouldn’t work here…noted. 

“Joel’s up in his office. Why don’t y’go bother him.”

“Joel…” You echoed.

“The owner?” He cocked a brow, almost annoyed that you didn’t know who Joel was. 

Obviously, you didn’t fucking know.

“Gotcha,” you nodded. 

The bartender slung the drying rag over his shoulder, retiring the glass he had been cleaning to the other stack of dishes. He pointed down the hall near the stage toward the black-painted door to the right. 

“You’ll find him in there,” he said.

You muttered a quick thank you before walking down the hall and past wandering eyes. Smoothing down your hair, you inhaled sharply before rapping your knuckles against the door. 

“Come in!” A deep voice called out.

You timidly turned the doorknob, peeking your head around the door with a sheepish smile. An older man, probably no more than forty, leaned back in a leather chair. He had on a simple black button-up, the sleeves rolled up his tan arms, exposing the muscles and veins that spidered from his fingers to his biceps. You lifted your eyes to his face, brown scruff covering his jaw, small patches of gray threading through the wiry hair. His plush lips curved into a slight grin, his bottom one plush and pouty—a very dangerous thing to see when you realized he could potentially be your new boss.

“How can I help you?” He asked, clearing his throat.

Your eyes shot up to his, immediately pulled under the dark brown waves that swam through his irises. You expected the club owner to be less appealing, maybe even a bit sleazy, given your track record of who you’ve met in the business. You didn’t expect him to be this attractive. 

You stepped over the threshold, unsure if you should shut the door behind you. You didn’t know Joel, nor could you trust him to be different from the other men you had encountered over the years. Despite your weariness, he motioned for you to shut the door and extended a hand toward the chair in front of his desk.

“I was, um, wondering if you were taking any new dancers?” 

You didn’t mean to word it like a question, but your uncertainty got the best of you. 

“Might be. Y’from here?” Joel asked, his southern drawl thick with each syllable. 

You slid down into the chair, letting your bag drop to the ground by your feet. Joel tracked your movements, watching you squirm under his heavy stare while he waited for your response. 

“Miami, actually. Just drove in this morning.”

“What brings ya’ to the Lone Star State?” He asked, a grin teasing the corners of his mouth. 

“Family,” you lied a little too quickly. 

Everything about being a dancer was a lie, and you weren’t about to change your ways for some owner you didn’t know. Joel stretched his arms over his head, his biceps flexing as he interlocked his fingers behind his neck. It should be a crime for someone to be this handsome; clearly, he knew what you were thinking because his lips twitched with an amused grin.

“Y’got experience in a club?”

“Yep,” you nodded. “Worked at my last one for three years.”

Joel’s eyes raked over you, lingering on your glossy lips and finally trailing back up to your eyes. Your skin flushed under his stare, your ears burning the longer he drank you in with slow, deliberate passes over your body as you crossed and uncrossed your legs behind the shield of his wooden desk. 

“I’m assuming you’ll want to see me dance,” you said, filling the dead air between you.

“Not necessary.”

You stared at your hands in your lap, crestfallen. This had been your last resort, and you were down on your luck now. You barely had a hundred dollars in cash left in your wallet, and you told yourself it was for emergencies only. You weren’t even sure it was enough to cover more than a night's stay in a motel somewhere in town. There wasn’t anyone you could call. There was nowhere else to go. 

A soft creak of his chair stirred you from your swirling thoughts, and you looked up to see Joel bracing his elbows on the desk. He was so much closer now, his age materializing into something softer as he studied you. Worry lines creased his forehead, smoothing out around his temples where his brown hair curled behind his ears. Even if this meeting was all for nothing, at least you got to enjoy a small glimmer of hope dressed as a beautiful Southern gentleman. You reached for your bag, ready to beeline it out the door and back to your car before you could make any more of a fool of yourself. 

“I don’t need an audition, sweetheart,” he said softly. 

You blinked up at him, both confused and hurt. He didn’t need to kick you while you were already down; he made it very clear you weren’t getting a spot in the club. You lifted your bag into your lap, shoving the chair back hard enough to make the legs scrape against the floor. 

“I appreciate you taking the time to meet me. Have a good day.”

The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth, and they didn’t sound much better either, but you didn’t care. There was nothing for you here, and you needed to search for a place to stay before the day slipped away. Clinging to whatever dignity—and hope—you had left, you turned for the door without another glance over your shoulder. 

“Wait.”

Joel’s voice radiated through the room as your hand hovered over the door handle. You half-considered dismissing him and continuing with your hopeless day, but a nagging voice inside your head told you to stay. Steeling your emotions, you turned to him with your arms folded over your chest. 

“Come back at nine. You’ll be on stage tonight,” he offered, rising from his seat.

“What?” You balked. “You just told me you didn’t want to see me audition.”

Joel shoved his hands in the front pockets of his dress pants, his shoulders lifting slightly with a shrug. You waited for the other shoe to drop, for him to laugh in your face and shove you out the door. But there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his tone nor a look of deception in his soft eyes. 

“I never ask my girls to audition,” he explained. 

“Why? What if I’m bullshitting you?”

“I’ll find out if you are, but I got a feelin’ you won’t let me down.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “Well, thank you. I’ll see you tonight.”

Joel dipped his head toward you, his lips curving at the corners under his thick mustache. You were in deep shit, knowing you’d get to see that warm smile every day. With nothing left to say, you muttered another thank you and opened the door, disappearing into the hallway before he could retract his offer. 

An upbeat tempo thrummed through the air as you passed by the stage, and you took a quick peek at the girl spinning on the pole, her blonde hair falling in a cascade of curls down her bare spine. The handful of patrons you had spotted coming into the club were now crowded around the stage, enthralled in her body as she moved to the rhythm of the music. Crisp dollar bills scattered the glass stage, falling at her feet as she lowered herself onto her knees. Your steps faltered as her eyes connected with yours, a friendly smile ghosting over her face before she returned to her routine. Digging through your bag, you reached for your wallet and dished out a couple of bills to toss onto the stage. It wasn’t much, and you knew better than to lessen your savings, but it was enough to show your respect for her hustle. She understood this life as much as you did. 

**

You spent the better part of the afternoon driving around the city, familiarizing yourself with the sidestreets and small shops you would come to frequent. There hadn’t been much luck finding a place to stay for the night, but you hoped you’d have enough money after your shift to afford a room, at least for the weekend. You were more than ready to sleep anywhere that wasn’t your car and even more ready to have cash in your pockets again. 

Anxious to start your first shift, you circled back to the club much earlier than Joel had asked. The sun was barely kissing the horizon as you put your car in park, the neon lights above the building flickering to life as the night swallowed the sky. You were two hours too early, but you didn’t want to wait any longer. You wanted to be on the stage now. 

Searching through the bags of your belongings stuffed in the trunk of your car, you found your pile of club outfits and began piecing together different options to wear for the evenings. You laid out a matching pink lingerie set, the bra entirely rhinestoned in refractive colored jewels. It had done numbers on stage, a perfect outfit for making first impressions. You scoured for one more set—a just-in-case outfit—and found a thin, black lace teddy at the bottom of the pile. You could pair it with your taller heels and use it as your outfit for your second dance on stage. If you got that far. Everything else looked unappealing, but you’d have time and money to shop during the weekend for new clothes. New everything, if you were being honest. You were starting from the ground up in Austin. 

As you tucked your clothes in your bag, you heard the sound of car keys jingling behind you. It was instinct to tense up at any noise in a parking lot, and your defenses were always up to foreign noises. Spinning quickly toward the sound, you came face to face with the same blonde you had seen on stage earlier in the day.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you!” She apologized.

“No, it’s okay,” you assured her, releasing a shaky breath.

She was wearing an oversized shirt and gym shorts, her feet stuffed in a pair of fuzzy blue slippers. With her hair pinned up and most of her makeup wiped off, you knew her shift was over.

“You must be the new girl Joel told us about. I’m Monica.”

She extended a hand toward you, and you quickly introduced yourself.

“Sorry, I probably look like a mess. I just got in today.”

Monica looked over your shoulder into the trunk of your car, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the mess. Everything left of your life was stuffed into only a few bags; it was embarrassing, to say the least. 

“Do you have family in town you’re staying with?” She asked.

“I do,” you lied. “I just haven’t had time to stop by yet and drop my things off.”

Monica looked between you and your car, skepticism crossing over her features. Dancers were great at lying but even better at discovering one. She saw through you in less than a minute.

“Let me give you my number,” she offered, pulling her phone from her purse. “When you’re done for the night, just call me. I’ve got an extra room you can crash in for a couple of nights if you need it.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. That’s, um, that’s way too kind of you,” you stammered.

She bristled at your words, shoving her phone in your hands to exchange numbers. You typed with shaking hands, the numbers mixing up as you deleted and retyped repeatedly. Handing the phone back to her, you waited for a text to ping through the air, and it did. 

You made your first friend in the new town and only hoped things wouldn’t end like they did in Miami.

“There’s plenty of girls still here for the night,” she started. “They’ll set you up in the dressing room and make sure you’re taken care of tonight. If anyone gives you hell, just tell them Monica’s looking out for you, and I’ll set them straight.”

You laughed softly at her gentle threat. You weren’t expecting such hospitality so quickly, but it was refreshing to know someone cared about you. After a few more minutes of casual conversation, she parted ways for the evening, and you were left standing in front of the neon lights beckoning you inside.

Showtime. 

The crowd inside the club had doubled since you had left earlier in the afternoon; the couches and bar tops were littered with groups of men and women all drinking high-priced drinks and shadowed in plumes of smoke. Three bartenders worked behind the counter, their routine flowing together as they worked in tandem, taking orders and making drinks. 

As you walked down the hallway by the stage, you noticed Joel’s door shut to the club. It confused you since the club was ramping up for the night; owners were usually out mingling with customers and dancers. You considered knocking on the door and thanking him again, but the thought passed just as quickly as it came, and you found your way to the dressing room. 

The room's bright lights were stark in contrast to the rest of the club, and you had to squint your eyes to adjust to the sudden change. Only two girls occupied the room, working on their hair in front of the vanity. The second you entered their eyesight, they turned with wide grins.

“You’re the new girl!” One squealed, her brown curls bouncing around her shoulders as she ran up to you.

She quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, her heavy vanilla perfume floating around her body and onto yours. 

“I’m Heather,” she said, pulling away. “And that’s Carolina.”

She gestured back to the other brunette, who gave you a shy wave. She was shorter than Heather, her hair cut into a sharp bob and streaked with caramel highlights. You waved back, introducing yourself to them both. Heather bounced back to the vanity, moving her array of makeup to the side to make room for your things.

“There are open lockers to the side over there, so feel free to stash away anything you need,” she explained. “If you need a curling iron or hairspray, you can always grab mine. And Carolina has extra body glitter, too, but I’m guessing you have your own.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some in my bag, but thank you. You guys are really sweet.”

You sat next to Carolina, dumping your makeup bag on the counter. Carolina worked at fixing her black nipple pasties, both of them on display under her sheer red bra. Her curves filled out her mini-skirt, the red material matching both her bra and Pleaser heels. She was fiery; you liked that.

“Joel said you’re from Miami,” Heather started. “This has got to be way less exciting than your old club, huh?”

You tensed up at her question, deciding on what to divulge. Heather and Carolina were sweet, but they were still strangers, and after last week…your guard was higher than ever. Pulling out your foundation and eyeshadow, you quickly started your makeup routine, dodging any invasive questions they tried to ask.

“How long have you both been working here?” You asked, flipping the focus onto them.

Heather fluffed her hair in the mirror, adjusting her purple halter top over her breasts before turning back to you.

“I’ve been here since Joel opened the club, so almost five years,” she stated.

“And I’ve been here for a little over a year,” Carolina said beside you.

“How is Joel?” You asked. “As an owner.”

Heather and Carolina let out a little giggle, clearly something private between them that went unsaid in response to your question.

“We like to say he’s like a recluse,” Carolina explained. “He hardly ever comes around during business hours. He just stays quiet and tucked away in his office. We pay him house fees at the end of our shift, and he leaves us alone.”

That piqued your interest. How could a club owner be so hands-off? Or maybe this was normal, and everything you had experienced in Miami was incredibly unprofessional. It was unprofessional, but you only assumed parts of it were like having your boss pimp you and other girls out for drugs and money. 

“Isn’t that weird, though? I mean, most club owners don’t do that. They’re usually—.”

“Creepy and a bit unsettling?” Heather offered.

You nodded slowly, focusing on yourself in the mirror as you lined your lips with a pink lip liner. 

“Joel isn’t like that, I promise you. He’s probably the most respectful man I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t even think he’s seen our tits,” Carolina giggled. “I can’t even tell you the last time I saw him outside his office during a shift.”

You shuffled off the vanity chair, returning to your bag to pull out your first outfit. As you peeled your shirt off, you mused over their casual information on Joel. You couldn’t make sense of it; how was Joel real? He must be too good to be true. He had to be.

“But how does he know what’s going on around here?” You pressed.

“His brother, Tommy, comes around, checks in on us, and reports to Joel if there’s anything worth knowing,” Heather shrugged.

“That’s it?”

“Yep!” Both of them said in unison.

Carolina strolled to one of the lockers behind you, retrieving a red garter from her back to tie around her ankle. You eyed her as she tightened the straps of her heels and adjusted her bra one last time. As she flounced to the door, she looked over her shoulder and gave you a slight wink.

“You’ll be just fine here, doll. I promise.”

The moment your heels clicked against the glass floor of the stage, everything in your mind turned off. You gave the DJ— Bradley, call me Brad, doll— your music of choice before stepping onto the stage: a slow, sensual track that made the crowd turn their heads in curiosity. Until then, Heather and Carolina had taken turns onstage doing routines to high-tempo songs, keeping the crowd engaged and rowdy. But that wasn’t your forte. 

You started things slowly, wrapping your hand around the pole and teasing the crowd with meticulous movements of your body that swayed to the beat of the music. Your fingers teased the outline of your breasts, cupping them seductively as you made eye contact with a few men sitting near the edge of the stage. Their undivided attention on your body was exhilarating; the promise of money dropping at your feet was enough to keep you going. Hooking your leg around the pool, you pulled yourself up, spinning in gentle turns as you flowed with the music. Everything you did was unrushed, and you took your time commanding the stage. 

Eventually, the tips started piling up on the stage. More clients drew closer, their eyes hungry and watchful. You slid onto your knees, crawling toward a younger man who hovered by the side of the stage, his button-up shirt disheveled and wrinkled—no doubt from a private dance he paid for only an hour ago. You graced him with an inviting smile, swaying your ass back and forth behind you. 

“Hi, beautiful,” he crooned, his voice barely audible above the thrum of the music. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” you replied. 

You knew how to bait them and make them chase after you. The thrill of it all was intoxicating, like the world was a blur around you, and all that existed was just the stage, the money, and your ability to make men crumble at your feet. Dragging yourself onto your knees, you coasted a hand down your abdomen, grinning as he tracked your fingers as they dipped over your navel. The money roll in his hand caught your attention, but you refrained from staring too long. Eye contact was crucial—if you kept him reeled in, the money would come to you. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” You asked, breathless.

“More than you know.”

He curled a finger, beckoning you closer. You didn’t like when clients reached for you, but you saw the crisp fifty-dollar bill hiding in his palm. Like a moth to a flame, you drew closer to the edge of the stage, letting his fingers work at the waistband of your thong. He didn’t prod or explore; his touch was respectful and gentle. Blowing him a kiss, you tucked the money under the thin fabric before returning to the center of the stage to finish your set. 

The music drifted to an end, the applause from the crowd around the stage rippling above the sound as the DJ returned to his playlist of choice. You gathered the tips off the stage floor, stuffing them into your moneybag as you left your set. 

For some strange reason, you were disappointed to see Joel’s office door shut off to the club despite Heather and Carolina’s words. You understood he didn’t come out during business hours, but part of you wished he had watched your first routine. Wasn’t he curious? And why did you care to have him watch you perform? It wasn’t like you were trying to impress him…Okay, maybe you were… 

Passing the DJ booth, Brad gave you a proud smile and a small congratulations. You hurried back into the dressing room, frantic to change into your next outfit. Heather lounged along the benches in front of the locker, her nails tapping against her phone screen as she typed furiously.

“Ugh!” She exhaled. “Men suck.”

You giggled as you plopped beside her, enjoying the simple camaraderie of being in another sisterhood with other dancers. You missed your girls in Miami, but that wouldn’t stop you from making new friends. And from what you’d already experienced in your short few hours at Diamond Dolls, these girls were genuine and caring. 

“Who’s the guy?” You asked.

“His name is Michael. We’ve been seeing each other on and off the past year, and he’s just… I don’t know. I feel like I give all my time and energy and get nothing in return. You know what I mean?”

“I do.”

You knew it too well. You had never been lucky in relationships; they were messy, and it was hard to come across a man who truly understood your field of work. Some of them loved the idea of having someone overly sexualized and, in their words, slutty. They considered every stripper to be the stereotypical version of a woman, all glitz and glam and naked on display. You were more than that, but none stuck around long enough to find out. 

“Can I give you some advice?” You offered.

Heather stopped her typing, giving you her full attention. 

“Men don’t deserve shit. If he’s not going to give his time and dedication to you, then he doesn’t deserve an ounce of your respect. You’re worth more than that. You deserve someone who will treat you like a queen.”

“Those types of men don’t exist,” she laughed. “They’re all sleazy and just want their dick wet.”

“I don’t know. I think there could be some good ones out there.”

Unwanted images of Joel flashed through your mind. There was no way you actually were thinking of him in this setting. You knew nothing about him or the type of man he was, so you couldn’t let your mind wander to the thought of him as a love interest, nor did you want that. He was a stranger and your boss.

“Well, if you find one, send him my way.”

“Absolutely,” you smiled.

As you both sat in comfortable silence, you worked at sorting through your wad of cash from your set. Smoothing out the bills and organizing them, you counted out over two hundred dollars. Not the best for your first routine in the club, but it was more than you had walked in with. And it was enough to hopefully find a place to stay over the weekend. However, Monica’s offer still remained in the back of your head. 

It was well past three AM when you decided to call it quits for the night. After two more sets on stage, you collected another four hundred dollars, leaving you satisfied for your first shift. Clients were generous, and the atmosphere inside the club was intoxicating. You wanted more, but you wouldn’t be greedy. Not yet, at least. 

After peeling off your clothes and replacing them with the sweats you had walked in with, you said your goodbyes to the girls and made your way to Joel’s office. A flight of butterflies swarmed in your stomach as your hand wavered over the door. Why did he make you so nervous? You were never nervous around men; you were usually quite the opposite. But Joel…You couldn’t get a read on him. You didn’t know what to expect, which made it so much worse.

“Hi,” you said quietly, softly cracking the door open.

You peered into the office, spotting Joel hunched over the desk, rifling through some papers. He glanced up quickly, his eyes shifting back down to the papers…Then, immediately right back up to you. You didn’t miss how his gaze drifted down your body, the hunger flickering to life behind his irises. You were in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but you might as well have been naked with the way he undressed you with his heavy stare. 

Your name fell softly from his lips, his mouth curving up in that same grin you melted over earlier.

“Heard you were the star of the show tonight,” he smiled.

“I don’t know about that,” you laughed.

Sliding into the office, you shut the door behind you, leaving only a few feet of space between you and Joel’s large frame. Somehow, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, his gravity pulling you forward.

“No need to be modest, sweetheart. Everyone was talkin’ ‘bout you out there.”

“How do you know that? The girls told me you stay in here all night.”

Joel leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. He wore that snug black button-up, and the soft material still deliciously clung to his muscles. His biceps flexed under the shirt, and you trained your eyes on him to keep the temptation of looking at bay. 

“Don’t worry, I hear everythin’ inside this club. Got eyes and ears everywhere.”

“How’d you get into the business?”

“That’s a story for another time, sweetheart. It’s late, and I’m sure y’wanna get home,” he chuckled. 

A mystery. That's what Joel was: an absolute mystery. You couldn’t dig under his walls, and you sure as hell wouldn’t let him dig under yours. If he kept his life close to his chest, then you’d do the same. 

“What’s your price for house fees?” You asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Flat rate of twenty dollars. You can tip out the bartenders and Brad if y’want, but I pay them well enough that y’don’t have to worry ‘bout it.”

“Twenty?” You gaped. 

His brows furrowed together, trying to understand your shock. You pulled a twenty from your money bag and walked toward his desk to slide it to him. 

“They charge you less in Miami?” He questioned, reluctant to take the money.

“No, it’s not that. They charged a lot more…Like over a hundred some nights.” 

It was Joel’s turn to stare at you dumbfounded; his lips parted in confusion. Wasn’t it normal for house fees to be that high? Or had you been lied to all these years? 

“You’re fuckin’ with me, right?” 

“I swear I’m not. That’s what the club owner charged us down there.”

Joel ran a hand down his face, his eyes squeezing shut. You swayed awkwardly, your fingers digging into the material of your money bag. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized. “Didn’t mean to cuss at you like that. Just surprised me, that’s all.”

“It’s okay,” you replied quietly. 

“M’gonna take real good care of you here, ‘kay?”

His words shouldn’t have affected you, but heat crawled up your neck as you tossed his words over inside your head. Once again, Joel was proving to be far different than what you were used to back in Miami, but you wouldn’t let yourself overthink it.

“Thank you, Joel. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t gotta thank me none, sweetheart. Y’get home safe. I’m sure your family will be happy to see you.”

You cringed at the statement, another reminder of the web of lies you were already weaving. You’d tell him the truth eventually, or maybe not at all. You wouldn’t jeopardize your chance at a new life here.

Joel’s eyes did one final pass over your body, and your anxiety nearly drove you right into the door when you turned to leave. He needed to stop looking at you like that. You didn’t need any more fuel to the fire burning inside your stomach. 

**

You spent far too long hovering your finger over Monica’s contact information, debating whether or not to take up her offer of a place to stay. You had enough money for a hotel room, but the idea of saving it and tucking it away sounded more appealing. You didn’t know Monica— or any of these girls— but her willingness to help you earlier proved how loyal these dancers were to one another. 

Dialing her number, you tapped your fingers against your steering wheel, watching through your dirty windshield as patrons filed out for the night. You wondered which of these cars belonged to Joel and promptly stopped yourself from wondering about anything else. Why was every thought beginning and ending with him? 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, uh… Monica?” You reintroduced yourself, stumbling over your words like it was your first time speaking.

“Look who made it out alive in her first shift!” She said cheerily. “I’ll shoot you my address, and you can drive over. I’ve already got the guest bedroom set up for you.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to intrude on you.”

“Oh, don’t be silly! You’re not intruding at all, honey. I’ve got the house to myself this weekend and could use the company.”

“I really appreciate it, Monica. Thank you.”

The city was nothing like Miami at night; the streets were empty, and the air was silent and calm. You kept the volume low on the radio as you drove to Monica’s house, enjoying the sound of the breeze as it drifted through the crack in your window. You focused on learning the street names as you passed every intersection, replacing the thoughts of Joel’s warm smile with things that would prove to be more important to you. But the memory of his eyes and smile still lurked in your mind, and no matter how many green lights you sped through, you couldn’t escape it. 

Monica’s home was tucked away in a residential neighborhood nearly half an hour outside the city, her tiny home the only one with a porch light still flickering under the dark sky. 

You barely opened your trunk when you heard Monica’s voice trailing down the driveway. 

“Hi!” She squealed. 

You turned to find her bounding down the pavement barefoot, her blonde hair tousled into a high ponytail and her pajamas hugging her curves. Setting your bag on the ground, you emptied your arms to welcome her into a hug, which should have felt awkward given you had hardly known her less than a full day, but with Monica…It felt normal.

“Thank you again,” you exhaled, your body slumping into her tight embrace. 

“Oh, don’t even mention it. My ex has the kids this weekend, so the place is extra lonely.”

“You’ve got kids?” You asked.

It wasn’t an accusatory question; you had danced alongside several women who were single moms supporting their children. Not to mention, Monica looked way too young to have kids, let alone more than one.

“I’ve got two,” she explained with a tired smile. “Twins, actually. Jackson and Luke. They just turned three in June.”

You shuffled your overnight bag over your arm while Monica led the way to the front door. The moment she opened the door, you were welcomed into a very lived-in home. Kid's toys littered the ground, while mismatched socks and shoes lay around in other spots. You smiled to yourself, seeing such a cozy place; you missed being in a home. Living in shady apartments and hotels left you bitter and yearning for somewhere to call home. 

“Sorry it’s such a mess,” she laughed absentmindedly. “The boys tend to destroy any clean area in the house.”

“You don’t have to apologize at all. I love it.”

She glanced back at you, quirking an eyebrow at your statement. It was true; you did love it. And you loved being welcomed into a home without feeling like a total burden. Monica gave you a small tour of the house before guiding you down the hall to the guest room. It was set up with a queen-sized bed and a small vanity in the corner—perfect for a night or two to get you back on your feet. 

Once settled in, you returned to the living room, where Monica was lying on the couch. 

“Thank you so much again,” you said, collapsing into the cushions.

“Of course, girl. I tend to be the motherly one out of the group, so if you ever need anything, you can always come to me. How was the first night?”

You stretched your legs out along the sectional, burrowing further into the pillows as you let your body unwind. Monica mimicked your movements, curling up under the small blanket draped over her body. 

“I didn’t know what to expect,” you admitted. “Being in a new club is always scary, you know? But everyone has been so welcoming, and the customers are great. And Joel is…” You trailed off, biting your lip.

“Joel is what?” Monica pressed, giggling slightly.

“He’s amazing. I’ve never met a club owner like him. He really cares about all of you girls, and it shows. I’m not used to that.”

“You had it bad out there in Miami, huh?”

You shifted slightly, trying to mask your unease with the question. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Monica; she hadn’t given you a reason yet not to, but the question was too fresh to answer. Glimpses of that night suspended themselves in your head, moments you couldn’t shake and only hoped you’d never have to relive. Everything you saw… everything you did… you wanted to forget. 

“Is it alright if we don’t talk about it?” You asked, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap.

“Of course, honey,” Monica said softly. “Whatever happened out there, just know it’s in the past, and you’re okay now. You’re safe here with me. I’ll take care of you, and so will Joel.”

Joel. 

Everything kept circling back to him. He was an enigma dressed in all black with a warm smile and a country twang. You were used to men being nice; they almost always had an ulterior motive for their kindness, but not Joel. His kindness wasn’t self-fulfilling, as far as you knew, and you could see how serious he was about the safety of everyone in the club. Maybe things would turn out differently here; maybe things would be okay. 

The early morning sunlight slowly began to seep through the living room curtains as you and Monica fell into endless conversation. Eventually, she mumbled something about needing a few hours of sleep before needing to run errands, and you took it as your sign to retire to bed. As you settled under the covers, you forced your mind away from the wandering thoughts of Miami. It was easy to forget everything that had transpired in the hotel room when you kept yourself busy, but in the silence, there was nowhere to run from the memories. 

“Alright, which one of you are we fucking first?” One of the guys asked.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, undoing his belt, as he asked the question. Your stomach rolled with nausea as the realization hit you; Richie had pimped you out. This wasn’t a party; this was a setup. You swayed in the corner of the room, eyeing the door to figure out how to escape without being snatched up by one of the men. But there were too many of them and just the three of you to try and fend for yourselves. What did it matter, though, when your two closest friends were already drugged out of their minds?

You couldn’t have slept more than one or two hours. The sun was too bright inside the bedroom, and your body was coated in a thin sweat as you jolted from the bed. You were safe. You were in Texas. You were at Monica’s house. You repeated those reminders as you rolled out of bed and entered the guest bathroom. The reflection in the mirror felt like a stranger; your eyes puffy and your face pale. 

“You’re okay,” you whispered to yourself. 

Splashing cold water on your face, you took a few minutes to gather your bearings. The days spent on the road running from Miami were catching up to you, and so was the anxiety that you had kept at bay. 

“Hey!” Monica called from somewhere down the hall.

You braced yourself against the bathroom sink, swallowing the startled gasp that threatened to bubble out of your mouth. 

“I’m headin’ out to the grocery, so if you want me to grab anything for you, just shoot me a text! I left breakfast on the kitchen counter for whenever you’re hungry,” she continued. 

“T–Thank you!” You stuttered. 

Dammit, you were okay. 

You waited until you heard the sound of the front door closing before emerging from the bathroom. In your slim hours of sleep, Monica had cleaned up the house from the night before. Toys were piled in small bins beside the couch, and the miscellaneous clothes and shoes had disappeared, most likely to their respective places in the laundry or kids' bedroom. 

The lingering smell of breakfast led you into the kitchen, where a plate of eggs and bacon sat neatly on the counter. Monica was truly a godsend, and knowing you were in good hands settled some nerves. Settling onto the kitchen barstool, you inhaled the aroma of the plate of food and reached for the fork. Your hand wavered as you spotted a piece of paper tucked under the plate's corner, dainty handwriting scribbling across the note. 

In case you need it, here’s Joel’s number. 

You stared at the series of numbers before you, your throat dry. Joel. The man that was giving you a second chance at this life you had decided to live. Joel. The man with a kind heart and even kinder eyes. Joel. 

The one person who could change everything.

[porcalinecunt]

okay . . hear me out; ak!jason who has a kink w creampies. he doesn’t know why his body literally craves it like oxygen w his bf (ftm n on birth control!), he just wants it so bad!! ૮₍ ˃̵͈᷄ . ฅ ₎ა

031 𐙚 KINKTOBER — 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 poor arkham knight misses his boyfie’s cute cunt, so when his partner in crime takes over for the night, he gives you a little surprise!

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ AK! JASON TODD X MALE! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader. tons of breeding (duh!), mentions of impregnation, size kink, jason todd being an amazing boyfie! <3

・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ as an apology for not doing well this kinktober, have a lil halloween gift frome yours truely! :3 ty for everyone who pitched in and to those who’s requests haven’t been fufilled for kinktober, they will be as normal smuts. thank you sm for understanding! <3

rationality wasn’t jason’s best concept to grip, especially regarding his lovely little boyfriend.

coming home battered and bruised, drenched in sweat as pieces of his armor crashed onto the ground only for you to still rush into a tight hug with him made his shell a little bit softer and his dick a little harder.

if only he had time for you, something that comes every blue moon. after all, vengeance waits for no one, not with the scars the knight bears. yet the urge never fully washed out, no matter how many times he strokes his dick silly until his hands are covered in cum. the sight of your dumb lil' eyes peering at him makes him harder then a fucking rock.

every peek at your barley covered ass, every tight embrace, every needy kiss drove jason mad. the thought of a quickie wasn't enough, he needed to stuff you full load by load. so imagine his relief when slade promised to watch over the bats for the night, allowing the knight to tear through the road all the way home while you laid unsuspectingly in bed.

the familiar banging noises startled you from falling asleep, followed by heavy footsteps with heavy static breathing. your feet barley touched the ground when the door swung open and a wild jason pushed you back onto the mattress.

"jay..? what's wrong?" you asked timidly while pressing a hand against his cheek.

you would get your answer once you felt something poking at your thigh. while being no stranger to his length and girth, the same pit in your stomach still formed. it's been a long while.

"'m sorry baby-" "don't apologize..!"

you giggled, a sound that made jason near bursting. you continued even while he unbuckled his belt, pushing his pants and boxers far enough to where his cock slapped against his stomach, revealing his neglect in it's full glory with precum already leaking down the base. you didn't even realize how spread your legs were, not until he tore your underwear clean off and pushed himself in with a groan of relief.

the warm wetness of your pussy engulfs his girth perfectly, almost like it was designed for his cock. jason, while never admitting this, always enjoys the first moments of penetration. the waves of chills, the sound your cunt makes and the breathy moan of relief you let out through your lips. fuckin’ perfect, too good to be true.

“a-ahh..hah..jason..”

you whispered, tangled with the sweetest whines that only feed the knight’s insatiable need to fuck you full with his seed. snapping his hips against yours in a frantic motion, his balls slapping against your ass as your legs are forced up until your feet faced the ceiling.

“ja!—jason! right there..oh fuck! right there..

your moans were chopped up thanks to his relentless pace, nonetheless, babbling your pretty mouth away as he already found your poor cervix. all while the vigilante remained focused on his primal goal, ignoring your pleas to slow down.

“mm no can do baby..not ‘till i’m done with ya.”

he groaned, now gripping the pillow your head rested on. the headboard banged against the wall, surely leaving a couple holes that’ll become a massive dent later. “fuckkk..atta boy, he’s like a fuckin’ vice around m’dick. don’t ya think?”

you couldn’t even reply, not with your brain becoming cock drunk mush. eyes rolled into your head as the knot in your stomach threatened to snap at any moment. you begged through broken sobs for him to let you cum. for him to fuck a baby in you. something that punches a chuckle out of the knight.

“oh..baby, i’ll give you a cute lil’ kid one day..jus’ wait a little longer, okay?”

he cooed in his typical faux sympathy voice, chuckling until he finally groaned an indication of his own orgasm. his pace growing sloppier by the second as you screwed your eyes shut.

he didn’t even say a word when he came balls deep inside you, only pressing his full body weight onto your smaller figure until you milked every last drop from his cock. after all, there’s not a chance he’d let even the tiniest bit spill out of you. your legs twitched and your stomach felt weirdly full as jason laid on top of you, out of breath.

“baby..” you whined, pouting a little. “i didn’t get to cum yet..”

jason, exhausted yet relived from his post mission boner, simple began to move his hips against yours once again.

“sorry pretty boy..lemme make it up to you right here, how about that..?”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[oatmealthighs]

bigbro!choso x blackfem!babysitter!reader

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 contents: nsfw 18+, MDNI. overstimulation, rough sex, mutual pining, breeding kink, masturbation. i guess a lil stalking? choso's last name is itadori, yuji is a lil one, reader is black-coded and depicted to be a bit thick. but yea gets pretty nasty. minors gtf back

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 author's note: yea this is a bit more self-indulgent than i'd like to admit.... but nonetheless! i still hope yall like it! inspired by this work of art

“so you're the new babysitter, huh?”

his voice was so deep. it rumbled through your every limb, made every hair prick up against your melanated skin. your throat went dry as you looked up at the man so casually leaning against the doorframe to his quaint, humble home, towering over you as he observed you almost menacingly.

as choso itadori looked down at you with indifferent eyes, you couldn't stop your own from scouring, observing the way the black tee he had on was tight in all the right places, hugging and squeezing at his muscular biceps and clinging to his formed chest. his brown hair was tied up, spiky locks in two ponytails. black jewelry adorned his ears all the way up to the helix.

you felt small, under investigation as his dark orbs intensely pierced through your own. but you didn't waver, it was never in your nature to showcase your uncertainty. instead you smiled, glossed lips parting to show your pretty teeth. “yep, that's me! my name is [name].” of course choso already knew that, and maybe a bit more that he didn't plan on sharing with you. he had no shame when it came to investigating who he was entrusting the care of his baby brother to, yuji being his heart and rib, the only family he had left on this entire planet. he'd die for him, kill for him, do worse if it came down to it. but with you, all that extra shit didn't seem necessary to make clear.

choso knew you looked good from your instagram he managed to find after some digging, but your posts didn't capture the true, full essence of your beauty. the camera didn't necessarily capture the way your brown skin glowed and shimmered in light, or accentuate your curves like how they looked now. you smelled sweet, like yams and vanilla. the magenta yoga set you wore clung to your skin tantalizingly, outlining your curvy silhouette and the top zipped down just a little low to show a little cleavage. your hair was styled* into a neat bob, bluntly cut just above your shoulders, not a single hair out of place. your lips were lined a dark coffee brown and ombré’d into the pink natural color of your skin, coated with sparkly gloss. your large glasses sat on the bridge of your wide nose, a french-tipped nail pushing them higher up. choso continued to feign disinterest, but he knew the darkening scarlet brushing over the tips of his ears might be what would give him away if you took any notice.

luckily enough, your attention was drawn elsewhere, the sound of toddler yuji cooing as he waddled through the living room towards the front door making your eyes widen with adoration. you kneeled down to his height, yuji’s big brown eyes finding yours and him sending you a gummy smile. “and this must be yuji! ohh, you’re the cutest thing! making my heart swell.”

choso needed you for a short while, just until he could find a new daycare for his little brother. between him working over forty hours a week and using the weekends to focus on bonding with yuji and resting up, he never really had the time. or more-so, seeing how well yuji gravitated to you, how he began asking about you by just saying your name during bath time, how he always cried when you left, was what made it drop lower and lower on his priority list.

you were much more help than he expected you to be, and did far more than what he was paying you to do, which resulted in the extra hundred dollar bills he would sneak into your cherry coach bag every evening. it was the least he could do: you made meals, helped clean, always put yuji down to bed before you left. even did the laundry as needed. you insisted it was okay when choso told you you didn't have to bother yourself with tasks that weren't in the job description, and that you didn't want or expect anything extra out of it. but you stopped fighting against his generosity… not that there was ever a struggle.

some nights required choso to stay later, long past his typical return time of six o’clock, and some nights he wouldn’t return until 2am. he would come in from a particularly tiresome day at the hospital in his his grey scrubs and his hair pulled into a low ponytail. he would never be surprised to find you laying on the large sectional sofa, glasses still on but your bonnet tied tight around your head, under one of the extra blankets with your phone replaying a tiktok. choso always had the guest bedroom prepared for you but it was always all for naught, as the couch seemed to be your preferred place of choice. it was so soft, it had to be well over a thousand bucks. he never disturbed you, you deserved your sleep. at most, he’d shut your phone off and turn down the tv, and head upstairs to shower and prep for bed himself. he’d often hear you leave the house later that night or early in the morning.

choso was the strong, silent type most of the time. he was an action-driven man– if he didn’t say it he would show you. you knew he liked you for his baby brother when he asked how did you feel about hanging around yuji for a bit longer than anticipated one evening while you were just about to leave out for the day. or when he would sneak those crisply folded blue bills into your bag. you wondered what he did for work one day, and you asked him. he was an anesthesiologist, he said. and you knew he was rolling in the money then.

there were no signs of a woman in his life from what you’ve seen. no feminine hygiene products in the bathroom, no pictures, no particular scent aside from your own aroma of sweetness. no mentions of a “she”... not that you’ve ever talked about it. you wanted to pop the question, but you didn’t want to weird him out- you opted to just “keep things professional.” but shit, it was hard sometimes. choso was a nice-looking man, with a height of 6’3”, a hard, muscular build, and dark eyes that made you shudder when he looked down upon you with them. sometimes he would come home after a vigorous work-out at the gym if he had the pleasure of getting off on time, wearing a black underarmour compression shirt that would be so damn tight you’d see every sculpt and cut of his meticulously defined upper body. his hair would be down, brown tresses clinging to his strong neck, thick eyebrows knitted together at the feeling of sweat and perspiration sticking to his skin and his growing need to shower. you would be in the kitchen, just cleaning up since you wrapped dinner up not too long ago, and the smell would make his stomach borderline roar at him. he’d shower, then come back in a tee and grey sweatpants, damp hair hanging as he sat at the table and basically ripped apart whatever you had prepared for him.

sometimes, you’d be in a rush to go home. not because choso would make you uncomfortable or anything. never that… but you knew your body. you knew that warm pool of heat in between your legs meant nothing but trouble, and was something that needed to be handled, preferably asap. you’d rush into your little apartment, make a beeline to your bedroom and strip down to your bare skin before jumping into your silk pink sheets. you’d grab your vibrator and press it to your clit desperately, pussy squeezing around nothing as you threw your head back against the soft pillows. you’d pinch your brown nipple, bottom lip trapped in between your teeth as you moved your vibrator in small little circles. more and more, you’ve began imagining choso in between your legs, his large hands parting your thick thighs like the red sea as he ate you out, his tongue lashing at your clit and slurping up your honey like a man parched. you imagined him pinning you against a wall with those brawny arms of his, knees pressed to your chest as he pounded you, burying himself to the hilt as your pussy squeezed his thick, long dick like a vice. it would be so nasty… you could only imagine the way you’d be cumming around him, how he’d make you cream and release until you’re ran dry.

sometimes when you finish, you’ll feel ashamed, throwing your vibrator to the end of the bed as you squeezed your legs together and hid under the comforter with embarrassment. other times… not so much. the fire would still be stirring and burning within you, begging for something more, for you to truly be filled. there were times you were a smidgen too close to calling up one of your old flings, just to fulfill your desire of being stretched out once again and to just imagine the man over you was your employer instead.

your feelings didn’t go completely unrequited.

choso held his tongue for the greater good of professionalism and your comfortability, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t contemplate asking you to dinner a few times. from what he’s seen and observed on your insta, you didn’t have a special somebody. and he figured it would never hurt to ask. but choso was careful. he often opted to just not say anything.

he felt his gazes getting longer, his eyes moving more risky every time he’d see you moving about in his home working. he picked up that you really liked two piece sets, especially the ones made of sculpting spandex that always clung to your body almost provocatively. the way your ass sat in them, he was almost embarrased to say he dreamed about grabbing a handful of it, palming one of your cheeks with his entire hand. your glossed lips always caught his attention. he often thought about how it would look smudged on his skin, smeared across his own lips after tonguing you down.

your smell lingered. on the furniture, in the blankets, hung in the air. it was embarrassing how the scent of shea butter and vanilla was enough alone to make his dick stiff. it’s been so long since he’s rubbed one out. and he was doing a good job until you came along. he wasn’t proud to admit the amount of times he’s touched himself to you, his hips rolling his dick up into the clenched palm of his hand, soft squelching sounds filling his master bedroom. he’d imagine how you’d ride him, slamming your hips down against his own, your ass flush against his skin as you moan sweet nothings into his ear while he tried his damnedest to not nut in you.

the tension was growing thick. it could be sliced with a chainsaw at this point. but the both of you both opted to play it safe. until it spilled over… and it was bound to happen.

and it did.

"ouuuu, shit, choso!" the way that man was absolutely drilling you from behind was almost criminal, the deafening sound of his hips cracking against your fat ass echoing throughout the sound of the living room as he was trying his best to fuck you through the couch he had you drooling on.

you really don't know how you got here. well... you do. after all, this was the day you've been plotting and hoping on the moment you first seen choso's fine ass leaning against his doorway. it was like a dream come true, watching the way he deliciously hovered over you like predator over prey, his silky brown tresses draping around his sharp facial structure and his silver chain dangling, swinging in cadence with his hard, deep thrusts.

the two of you were just watching a movie, mr. & mrs. smith to be exact, courtesy of the invitation he extended earlier that night when you put yuji down for bed. an opportunity to "get better acquainted" over wine, gourmet chips, chocolates and a good action-romance.

"i see the way you look at me," you had stated boldly as you sipped your third glass of wine, the pillar to your sudden courage. "i know you notice how i look at you, too."

choso was sprawled out on the couch, legs spread and his arms thrown over the top. his head rested in one of his big hands, gazing at you through heavy-lidded eyes. he's silent for a moment as he looks at you so intently, his orbs filled with need, before he finally diverts his gaze to the tv. "yeah."

you look at the tv for a bit, not interested at all actually, but feigning it as you finished your glass. it was silent for a bit, albeit the sound of gunfire and car collisions booming through the in-home sound system, before choso speaks, "you can sit closer."

your scooting closer somehow led to you sitting in his lap, which led to a passionate, sloppy makeout session involving you straddling his firm thighs and his big hands gripping your entire ass in his palms as your tongue dived into his mouth. and all that led to him softly laying you on to the couch cushions, your lips never leaving each other's.

his lips are as soft as they look, yet leave scorching flames of desire in their wake as he litters passionate kisses all over your jugular and chest. he buries his nose into your skin, almost moaning at how sweet you smell and taste. as he continues to trace his name on your skin with his tongue, his fingers find the zipper to your purple yoga jacket, his eyes peering at up at yours through his thick lashes to ensure he has your approval.

you nodded your head gently.

choso made it his mission to show you he had much more to offer than some blue bills to you. you never depicted or predicted the guy to be an eater. but oh, were you pleasantly surprised.

that man can eat some pussy... and he does it like he gets paid to do it. he had you spread out like you were his dinner, and you were, your legs wide apart, knees bent. he sat on his haunches on the carpeted floor before you, spreading your lips apart and sloppily sucking at your clit that throbbed eagerly against his lips. he'd dip his head down, lapping up any of your leaking wetness before making out with your pussy yet again, his eyes trained on you and watching intently as your pretty face contorted into expressions of pleasure.

he'd make you cum all in his mouth, encouraging you to do so, never letting up as your thighs shook and vibrated, your eyebrows pushing together and your eyes fluttering shut as the bright hot warmth of your well-awaited orgasm overtook you, leaving you gasping for air. his compliments, "good girl," and "you taste so fucking good" would just get you all riled up again. choso came in his pants too, his ear tips bright red as he made it his duty to lick up all of your sweet nectar, but he kept that to himself.

that's not the only way he wants you though. he'll sit on his bottom on the floor next, his head resting against the couch, requesting for you to sit on his face. "what? choso, no, i'd crush you."

he'll take that as an insult of course. he benches twice your weight, easily. a little extra plush on the thighs wouldn't kill him, in fact, he'd love it ten times more. you'd saddle up, hesitantly brushing your pussy against his lips, and he'd look up at you, unimpressed.

"whaat?" you feign confusion, in reality, a bit shy and nervous at the thought of putting your weight on him.

"sit."

his words made every hair stand at attention against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. you bite your lip, your gloss long smeared off and all over his pale skin. you bring your weight down on him a bit more.

"all the way." fuck.

you do as you're told, and a deep moan of satisfaction rolls through him, his tongue already dipping into your dripping folds. and before you could even think about letting up, his strong arms are locked around your thick thighs.

he'd have you writhing in his grip, going insane at the way his tongue wrote love letters in cursive against your clit. he'd be damn near drowning in your release, your cum slicking and dribbling against his chin as you rolled your hips back and forth against his soft lips. you were chanting his name like a mantra, and it was a beautiful melody to his ears.

and lo and behold, that's how you ended up on a first class flight to poundtown, your eyes stuck in the back of your head and your manicured nails digging into the arm of the couch for personal brace as his huge dick kept brushing up against that soft spot of yours and his girth stretched you so damn good. you knew you were making a mess- you done squirted twice already, your juices rivering down the insides of your thighs and seeping into the soaked couch cushion below you. "fuck, please don't stop!"

"yeah?" choso breathes over you, his cheeks flushed pink from his endurance. you knew he wasn't slowing down no time soon... he told you about his daily four mile runs. his pupils were blown wide as he watched the way you managed to still throw it back at him, stilling his hips as he watched your hungry pussy swallow his length every time your ass sat plush on his lower stomach. "you like that shit?" his calloused palm smacked against your ass unforgivingly, the fiery sting setting you ablaze. he did it again, one more time for good measure.

you were losing it, moaning exasperatedly into the couch fabric as you gave him everything you got, tossing your ass back against him, trying to match the impact he was winding you with just a second ago. "yess, fuck yess," you whine. you reach your hand back, your nails clawing at his shirt and yanking it in a ball. "please, choso, keep fucking me like that."

"what, like this?" his large hands were at your lovehandles, squeezing the flesh there as his resumed his relentless rythym, his eyebrows pinching at the way you squeezed around him like a vice. you let out a wail, your cream decorating his veiny shaft, and he relished in the feeling, a deep groan of satisfaction bubbling from his throat. "shit, you just keep cumming.... what is this, your fourth time?"

actually your sixth, but you weren't gonna correct him. if there was anything you knew, you wanted more. the way the veins of his dick dragged against your walls was a wonderful, irreplicable feeling, his balls slapping your clit with each profound stroke. his thick fingers found your hair, tangling his hand in your locks and giving them a courteous yank, making your back cave and arch deeper as you let out a yelp of pleasure. any other time, you'd for sure cuss him out... but his dick touching your soul was plenty good of a distraction. besides, you knew your hair was long sweated out anyway.

he was gonna give you some money for a new hairstyle anyway. he was good for making up for it.

choso feels himself teetering against the edge, between the sounds of your disgusting squelching and the mess you left on him and his couch, your pussy still begging for more as it and all its sloppiness still squeezed him whole, and your pretty keens and gasps bouncing around the room, it was almost too much. he felt like he was losing it, the hearts in his eyes palpitating as both of his hands held your jaw from behind. "the fuck are you doing to me..." he mutters aloud, his eyebrows furrowed as you eagerly sucked on his thumbs with a slutty moan.

"you know, yuji gets lonely sometimes," he whispers, slowing his thrusts and leaning forward to crush you with his weight, his dick bottoming out and making you let out a cry as your eyes snapped wide open. he rolls his hips more sensually as he licks at the back of your nape, the cool metal of his chain brushing the skin of your back and making you shiver. his lips trail to your ear, tongue lolling out at the shell as he continues, "i'm sure he wouldn't mind a friend. you'd like that wouldn't you? for me to fuck you full until i got nothing left, huh? you gonna drain me of all i got?"

you nodded your head desperately as you hummed a whiny "mmhm", turning your head to the side as you watched in awe as the man over you was spilling over the edge. "yes, i'd love it, cho, give it to me... please?"

choso hums in satisfaction, his heart thrumming against his ribcage as your words made butterfly cocoons hatch in his stomach and his dick stiffer than ever before. "yeah..." he slams into you, winding you with power and force that insinuated that he hated you, but he'd only make such a dangerous, promising offer to someone he truly liked. let alone anyone at all. "i know you would. you're nasty as fuck."

you didn't know if you were to be terrified or turned on, but the way your core pulsated around him let you know you were the latter. he let out a breathy moan at your physical response, but it didn't stop him. not even for a second.

he wasn't letting up. you weren't getting any breaks. the way you would be teasing him wearing those tight ass clothes and smelling like you wanted him to eat you alive. nah. he was giving you everything you ever dreamed about, everything you imagined when you'd resort to using your little vibrator between your legs.

and you loved every fucking second of it.

[inkyquince]

Okay so maybe in just brain rotted... And I am BUT.

Love interests fucking GRABBING the dark urge for a kissy after the meeting with gortash. Man's turning up the rizz and flexing his stubble and eye bags and his anti-anxiety robe and his voice is low and seductive as he calls the durge an old *friend*.

Like, Karlach wouldn't even wait to be out of the room. Not even take a few steps away. Fully turn to you, grab you by the shoulders and fucking LIFT you up to plant a big smooch on you. Much to Gortash's bemusement and horror tbf. And the rest of the court's.

Gale would be more subtle, stepping close as you head towards the stairs and quickly press a kiss to your cheek with a soft smile. No way anyone would think it's a platonic look of adoration, even if his stomach is still twisting with the revelation that it was YOUR actions that led to this.

Astarion? Yeah, your conversation wouldn't have even ended before he's doing his slutty lil lean against you, resting his chin on your shoulder, still seemingly fully absorbed into the conversation. After it ends, he presses a kiss to your neck and idly follows after you, bemused by his own spark of annoyance at Gortash and his reaction to it. Mostly just exasperated by it though.

Wyll is filled with outrage for his father, for karlach and now for you. The implications seeped in Gortash's words and yet when you had joined up with the group, you had been left in the trash heaped, bloodied and stricken with amnesia. He's disgusted. So on the way out, he takes another look at his father and then slips his hands into yours. Raises it and gently kisses your knuckles on the way out. Even some of the court coo at the cute, gentlemanly gesture. Gortash looks mildly grossed out and Wyll takes that win, even with the prospect of meeting back up with Mizora in a few seconds.

Lae'zel would bare her teeth at him, smack his down and break his face in, if.... Well, if everything else wasn't going on right now, and it would upset the tin soldiers. So she settles for the next best thing, as resentment and possessiveness curl her tongue. Just gripping your waist and pulling you closer should do it. But she must add in a quick, harsh bite to your lower lip. Yknow, just in case.

Shadowheart? Gods, to make it clear, she's dying to press you against the wall and slide a thigh against your crotch, but yknow. Polite company. So instead she just slips her arm around yours, pulls you closer and whisper into your ear. Looks more salacious than it is, as she whispers that your past isn't who you are now and then drops a kiss to your earlobe. But it should to the trick.

Halsin isn't an envious creature. He really isn't. This man wouldn't care about your current other partners, so why should he care about past ones? Potential past parents, nonetheless. But, he'd never turn down the chance to pull his love close, especially in front of the man that caused all this trouble to begin with. Pull you close and tuck you into his side, maybe even kiss your temple.

Gortash? Gortash has missed his favourite assassin. He's waited for you, even with Orin hissing about your demise, and he never truly believed that such a piece of subpar, inbred Bhaalspawn could compare to you. The one who stole the Crown, the one who helped mastermind, the one who your father had chosen first. So what in the world was your little fan thinking? After a sweet, pleasant conversation, to start to paw at you? A fool no doubt. They might have gotten a few lovely weeks with you, but he had been with you for far longer, and he was finished waiting. No, he didn't see them being a problem.

[miniimight]

Gotta admit the way you write midoriya is just so... Literally can't find the words to describe it. I had this scenario I wished to request of you it's okay if you don't want to do it. Midoriya with an significant other that hears people taking about them, not deserving of him and how they are using him for his fame and all, then he teaches them a lesson?

DEFENDING YOU the gossip around the office gets on his nerves a lil bit

with izukuuuuu :heart: + gn!reader

notes absolutely in love with this request ! thanks for reading my stuffs <3

a while after you were revealed as his girlfriend, izuku was faced with many backhanded comments about his relationship. sure, they were few and far between, but when they did happen he felt his self-control diminishing way faster than usual. especially if that person had the balls to say it to his face.

to be completely honest, he thought that everyone else should mind their own fucking business. he doesn't kid around when it comes to the people he cares about. the fact that he wants and needs you is enough.

but, nonetheless. people will still run their mouths.

it was another casual day in the office. you had the day off work and he was stuck at the agency headquarters, flipping through paperwork.

you were excited to see him. izuku had been holed up in work for what seemed like forever, and you were so happy to get the chance to spend time with each other during the coming weekend.

as you walked through the halls, you noticed the eyes following you. they were hard to miss, but they were part of the routine at this point. you soon found yourself in the elevator, head ducked as you pulled out your phone.

izu: you coming up soon baby?

you: yeah, i'm like 5 mins away

you: okay im in the lobby, heading up rn

izu: yayyy can't wait to see you, love :3

you smiled softly to yourself. when you looked up, the elevator was packed; all you could see were the backs of the seven or so individuals in front of you, pushing you into the corner. your stomach felt a little uneasy, thinking about how you'd have to tell these people to move to let you through, but you remembered izuku was on the top floor. there was no way they were all heading there.

the hushed voices of a few employees made your heart pound.

"you're talking about deku's s/o?"

"yeah! aren't they... i dunno. a little out of his league?"

"i'm saying! like i'd get it if they were maybe a model or something. but they're literally just a civilian. how disappointing is that? like uravity is right there."

"i'm sure they're just using him for his fame. he's in the field so much with other badass heroes, they probably barely get to see him. if deku wasn't deku, they'd dip in a heartbeat."

they all laughed.

you wanted to stop listening. flood your mind with meaningless thoughts to distract you. but you couldn't resist tuning in, feeding your insecurities and doubt.

the ding of the elevator saved you. they filed out of the elevator, leaving you with the cheerful jingle of the lift.

you were quiet as you walked down the long halls of the top floor, their words echoing in your mind. you knew they weren't true—and god, would izuku reassure the fuck out of you—but negativity was negativity. and negativity had a way of finding cracks and slipping through.

the giant glass doors slid over the tiled floor soundlessly, yet izuku's head popped up from behind all the papers and files at your arrival.

a huge grin bloomed on his face as he sped over to you, paperwork forgotten. "hello, honey. did you get up here okay?"

"yeah," you smiled and held up a takeout bag. "i got some snacks for us."

izuku's calculating gaze bore into you as he gingerly accepted the bag. "you alright?"

"hmm?" you tilted your head in confusion. of course he noticed. "yeah, i'm good." the last thing you wanted to do was stress him out even more.

his brows furrowed. he stepped closer to you, his hands resting on your waist. "don't lie to me, sweetheart." his tone was scolding but his eyes were gentle. "what's bothering you?"

you pursed your lips, sighing. "just a couple people talking about us, 'n how i don't deserve you—"

you felt him stiffen, his expression going cold.

"how i'm using you for the fame, blah, blah, blah." you forced a smile, trying to play it off in an amusing light. "you know, the usual."

izuku was tightlipped, responding only with a "hmm."

he was staring at the wall behind you, eyes narrowed as if he'd seen a villain or something. you knew that expression well.

you cupped his face, guiding him to look at you. "hey. it's okay, izu, i'm used to it. don't mind them, alright?"

izuku's gaze softened and he leaned into one of your palms, the other lifted off his face by his own hand. he pressed a little kiss to your wrist, rubbing his hand up and down your arm soothingly as you both walked out his office.

he decided to drop it, and just love the shit out of you as an apology for experiencing such disrespect. even if he did everything in his power to make sure everyone knew he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him, he still felt guilty when people attacked you.

he still had many questions: who were they, what floor did they get off, and how can i discipline them? he usually felt sympathy for when employees messed up, but suddenly... he wasn't against firing them all.

the ride down to the lobby was filled with many adoring employees who giggled at the sight of the pro-hero, a phenomenon you were also very familiar with.

soon, you were gliding through the lobby, so close to freedom when he picks up on the idle chatter he hates so much.

"i think that's them!"

"it is. woah, his s/o is way more dull when you see 'em next to each other."

izuku grit his teeth. his eyes glanced down to you, seeing the way you blinked and pursed your lips. he suddenly paused. you walked forward a couple steps before you were tugged back by his stationary hand.

you looked at him curiously. "izu..?" your eyes darted around, lingering on the three that said those things about you.

he smiled, bending over you as he kissed your lips gently, pecking your forehead as well. "why don't you go to the car, love? i'll catch up in a second."

you gave him a warning look, noticing how he was drifting to where the three sat. "izu... really, let's just go."

he kissed you again and your head was swimming. "i'll only be a minute, angel. go on." he pat your back and watched as you left the lobby. when he turned around his expression was completely different.

he walked over to the three people, who instantly straightened at his approach. they shared glances with each other, both a little scared and confused.

"hello." izuku smiled, but there was no indication that he was happy. "i'm deku, and you all are..?"

they meekly listed their names, to which izuku took mental notes and nodded.

"great. uhm, i overheard you talking about my s/o?" he cocked his head to the side. "please, i'd love to hear your thoughts." he chuckles. "i'm kinda obsessed with them, or whatever."

"o-oh..." they stutter and avoid his gaze, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "no, it was nothing, really."

"hmm? nothing?" izuku and his months of public appearance training only made him more intimidating when angry; the joyless smile he wore as annoyance bubbled through him was ten times worse then any outright show of anger. "are you sure?"

"yes! promise." one nods eagerly.

he laughs mirthlessly and the three weakly chuckled along, thinking they were out of trouble. leaning close to them, his voice dropped into a low hum. "i'd like to keep it that way, yeah? let's not make them sad just so you could feel like you have an opinion about something that does not concern you whatsoever."

the three held onto each other, eyes rounded with shock as they listened to the pro-hero before them.

izuku's head tilted ever-so-slightly. "well?"

they began to trip over each other with their agreement, yes, of course! we wouldn't dream of it. consider it done! whatever you say!

izuku flashed his famous smile. "glad we got that sorted out. and just so that we're crystal clear, if i—or anyone for that matter—catch you talking down on my s/o again..." he pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing in thought. "i'd hate to have to terminate your contracts... it's a lot of paperwork, you know?"

they shook their heads, bowing deeply to the pro-hero. "never again, sir!"

"great!" izuku chirped. "bye!"

[]

your leg bobbed nervously in the car, wondering what izuku was doing and if you should go in there and see for yourself. just as you were about to act, you saw his green hair bob over the cars beside you, eventually coming into view.

you exhaled in relief as he slipped into the driver's seat, sighing happily. he turned to stare at you, leaning dreamily over the steering wheel. you smiled, though your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"you're so pretty." he sighed.

"i—" you blinked, laughing. "thank you, baby."

"i'm so lucky to have you..." he continued, leaning over the compartment separating your seats.

you giggled, matching his energy. "mhmm."

he gave you a lopsided smile. "you deserve everything i have and more."

your face felt warm as you shy away from him, knowing why he was spouting all these affirmations. his fingers hooked under your chin, tilting your face. his hair brushed against your forehead as he captured your lips. he grinned at you when he pulled away, staring at you with such adoration.

"so..." you ignore your racing heart and try to regulate your breathing. "are you gonna tell me what happened?"

he squished your cheeks before turning back in his seat, starting the car. "nope!"

you smiled and rolled your eyes, uncertainties gone and doubt erased. in the end, you weren't ever bothered. and strangely, you never saw those three faces again.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[gojodarling]

sweet like sin ⤑ toji fushiguro | m

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: ❝ there’s nothing, toji thinks, that is as sweet as fucking his children’s babysitter in the bed he shares with his wife ❞ non-curse au. infidelity au. pwp.

❥ pairing: dilf!toji x babysitter!reader  ❥ genre: fluff ∴ smut ❥ word count: 11k 

⤑ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: daddy dom!toji, sub!reader, big cock!toji, toji is a fucking tease, teasing, corruption kink, dirty talk, rough nipple play, marking, degradation, finger sucking, toji is a fucking pussy tease and i’ve had enough!!!, pussy eating, hair pulling, pussy spanking, clit sucking/biting, orgasm control, gagging with underwear, toji fucks ur pussy with his tongue <3, face riding, crying, delayed orgasm, overstimulation, squirting, wet & messy sex, begging, reader is such a lil crybaby, choking, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, minor pain kink, size kink, rough sex, deep dicking, breeding kink, creampie

⤑ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: cheating, age gap (reader is 22, toji is 36)

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: does this have any business being this late? no. do i have any excuse? also no !

⏤ read it on ao3 here

“Almost done, Gumi?” you ask, smiling softly at the eight-year-old boy sitting in front of you.

With a stoic face, Megumi spoons the last chunk of ice cream into his mouth before nodding his head. You grin at the boy, your chair scraping against the floor as you stand up and approach him. Grabbing his bowl, you walk over to the kitchen and quickly rinse it clean, before stashing it away in a cupboard, hiding any evidence of the late night—well late for an eight-year-old—snack.

“Come on, Gumi, let’s get you to bed before your parents get home, yeah?” you say, walking back towards the dining table where Megumi is still sitting, staring stone-faced at you.

Just as he nods and moves to slide off of the chair, you both hear the familiar sound of keys clinking, followed by the door rattling. You and Megumi still, your eyes widening as you realise that one of Megumi’s parents has returned home. For a brief moment, you see a look of nervousness cross his face, the expression breaking through his usual detached façade. If it were any other circumstance, you’d internally cheer at the emotion that paints his countenance; since you met him, you’d always thought Megumi was far too unemotional for an eight-year-old.

Nonetheless, you can’t celebrate the rare occasion of feeling from the child, not when you realise you’re both about to be caught. It’s almost half past nine, and as far as Hisano, Megumi’s stepmother, is concerned, Megumi’s bedtime is eight, Tsumiki’s at half past eight. Luckily, you had tucked the ten-year-old into bed already, Tsumiki having finished her ice cream first. Truth be told, the only reason Megumi was still awake was because he had asked for another helping of ice cream, but being full from his first bowl, he had taken much longer than you’d anticipated to finish off his second one.

The front door slams open all of a sudden, causing you to jump while Megumi’s visage slips into its usual aloofness, any prior hint of trepidation completely disappearing. You watch as Toji’s hulking form walks through the doorway and into the living space, and momentarily, relief washes through you too. In your few months of babysitting the Fushiguro's—in a bid to ease your undergraduate tuition fees—you’d quickly come to learn the dynamic between the two parents—Toji is the more carefree one, typically allowing the kids to do what they wanted, leading Hisano to be the stricter, more rule-abiding parent. And from the few times you’d been at their residence while the parents were home, either as they left for or returned from work, you’d known that that very dynamic had caused a multitude of arguments between them.

From the open plan design of the living space, Toji immediately spots you and Megumi in the small corner that is the dining room. Flinging his heavy bag onto the couch, he looks at Megumi and quirks his eyebrow.

“Whatcha still doing up, kid?” Toji questions.

“Wanted ice-cream,” Megumi deadpans.

Toji turns his gaze toward you, and instantly, another type of nervousness floods you. Briefly, his eyes rake over your form, and all of a sudden, you feel far too exposed in your short skirt. Toji’s gaze always feels predatory, a starving wolf stalking its prey; you shuffle from foot to foot under his heavy observance.

“Where’s Miki?” Toji questions. You pull your lower lip between your teeth and gnaw at it, Toji’s eyes immediately drawn to the gesture.

“She’s in bed,” you answer.

“Yer not s’pposed to have ice cream before bed, Megs,” Toji attempts to scold, turning back to Megumi. Nonetheless, from his nonchalant timbre, you know he doesn’t truly care. In fact, if the knowing smirk on his scarred lips, or the twinkle in his jade eyes, is anything to go by, he’s amused.

“Tsumiki had some too, I just had more,” Megumi rolls his eyes. You swallow thickly in an attempt to loosen your constricted throat before licking your lips.

“It’s my fault, Mr Fushiguro. I’m supposed to be looking after them and I shouldn’t have allowed them to have any ice cream. I also should have put Megumi to bed already,” you apologise with a slight bow of your head. Toji’s lips twist lazily, your skin pricking with heat at the wolfish grin that colours his visage.

Guilt gnaws at your insides, your stomach roiling when you feel the tell-tale heat of desire flare between your thighs. Here you were, caught red-handed disobeying two of the clear instructions from Hisano, yet turned on by—and insanely attracted to—the woman’s husband. There’s a special place in hell for you, you’re sure.

“‘T’s alright, doll,” Toji drawls.

You stiffen at the pet name, your stomach churning. Seldom does Toji call you by any form of endearment, though, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice he only did it when his wife was nowhere to be found.

“What Hisano doesn’t know won't hurt her,” Toji continues.

You’re imagining it, you’re sure you are, but for a fraction of a second, you could swear that Toji’s voice is purposely lower, the already deep baritone gravelly with fervour.

“Can be our little secret, right Megs?” Toji grins, his gaze flicking back to his son.

In a rare display of affection, Megumi hops off the chair and runs to his father, hugging his leg tight. Toji stills, his eyes widening in the slightest. The gesture shocks you too, neither you nor Toji are used to witnessing such acts from Megumi. Usually, the boy was overtly ornery, in a way you didn’t think should be possible for a child so young.

Toji manages to pull himself together, awkwardly patting his son’s head. You can’t help but giggle at the way Megumi’s spiky hair sticks out between Toji’s fingers, his large hands almost dwarfing Megumi’s entire head.

“Take him to bed, will ya princess? Before this is no longer just our secret, yeah?” Toji says, looking over at you once again. Heat stains your cheeks when he winks at you. You avert your gaze, and instead, return your attention to Megumi.

“Come on, Gumi,” you call, holding your hand out for the little boy.

Megumi, as though realising what he’s done, hastily lets go of Toji’s leg, almost as if he’s been burned. His reaction has both you and Toji chuckling, Megumi’s countenance morphing into a scowl. You grin down at him and lead him to his bedroom. As you walk away, you feel the burning sensation of Toji’s tumultuous gaze.

Unabashed, Toji openly stares at your ass, relishing in the way the hem of your skirt brushes against the tops of your thighs. It’s just long enough to be considered decent, but Toji is also all too aware that if you leant forward in the slightest, he’d get a tantalising view of your lower ass cheeks. He can’t help the way his cock stirs, his mind envisioning the sight of you bent over in front of him, your skirt hiked up high as you look behind at him with your large, innocent eyes.

He knows it’s wrong, depraved, sinful, the way he fantasises of you on your knees, with tears in your eyes and his cock buried in your throat, the sounds you’d make when he makes you cum all over his tongue; the glassy, fucked-out look in your eyes when his cock first enters your cunt.

He knows he could make them a reality, knows from the way you sneak glances at him in the moments you think he’s not looking, knows from the nervousness that clouds your demeanour as you shy away from him; knows from the way he’s caught the almost—but not quite—imperceptible way you rub your thighs when he speaks.

Yes, Toji is convinced he could have you if he really wanted to.

And he really, really wanted to.

~~

Once you’ve finally put Megumi to bed, you exit his bedroom and quietly shut his door. Back in the living space, you look around in confusion, a frown marring your face when Toji is nowhere to be seen.

“Mr Fushiguro?” You call out. When you receive no response, your frown deepens.

Momentarily, your eyes flicker to the master bedroom and, with trepidation churning in your stomach, you carefully approach the shut door. For a few seconds, you simply stare at the wooden surface. It’s not the first time you’ve been in the room Toji shares with Hisano—Tsumiki had once hid in her parents’ wardrobe while the three of you were playing hide and seek—and it’s not like you’ve been forbidden from entering—Hisano had been very welcoming when you’d met her the first time as her children’s babysitter.

Still, you’ve never been in the room when either Toji or Hisano were home. And knowing that Toji—a man you’ve secretly harboured illicit feelings for—could be behind the doors, doing god knows what, has your mind wandering to forbidden, lecherous territory.

“Mr Fushiguro, Megumi is asleep now so I’m leaving,” you call out as you knock on the door. You still receive no answer. Pulling your lip between the teeth, you chew on it before knocking once again.

“Mr Fushiguro?” you call once more.

When you still do not receive an answer, you gather your courage and slowly open the door, peeking your head in. From the slight sliver, Toji is nowhere to be found once again. Your eyebrows knit together and, growing bolder, you push the door open wider and enter.

Instantly, you’re assaulted by the scent of Toji—a heavy, musky fragrance intertwined with fresh notes of citrus and earthen notes of pine. It’s laced with something more feminine, the hint of sweet florals overpowered by the raw, intoxicating masculinity that is Toji. You suck in a sharp breath, stifling a moan when you inadvertently breathe him deeper.

“Mr Fushiguro?” you call out to nothing, your voice dampened by a mix of your own lust and nerves.

Your eyes scan around the room, landing on the queen-sized bed that takes up the majority of the space. It shouldn’t, logically you know it shouldn’t, but the sight of Toji and Hisano’s shared bed has your stomach stirring in envy. Toji is Hisano’s husband, the stepfather of her daughter, the father of her stepson. You have no claim to him, no right to feel the inkling of jealousy that stains your being.

You know that, logically.

But the reality is, you are envious.

Toji may be married, to your employer no less—Hisano being the one who paid you your weekly fee—but that doesn’t stop the adulterous desire that floods your bloodstream at the thought of him. Doesn’t stop you from closing your eyes and imagining him—his fingers, his tongue, his cock—when you touch yourself every night before bed. Doesn’t stop you imagining him throwing you onto his bed, fucking you in the same place he sleeps with his wife.

It’s wrong. You know it is. But you can’t help it, the indecent, debauched way in which you crave him.

“Whatcha doing here, dollface?” Toji’s husky timbre breaks through your reverie. You jump, adrenaline surging through your veins as you whip around to face him.

You regret it instantly. Face to face with Toji, your mouth goes dry at his current, unexpected, state of dress.

Or well, undress.

He stands before you, clad in nothing but a black towel. Water drips from his hair onto his neck and, entranced, you follow their motion, your eyes inadvertently tracing the contours of his body: the thick knot of his Adam’s apple, the corded musculature of his shoulders, the hardened definition of his pectorals. Stray droplets trail further down, over his rigid abdomen and into the material that wraps around his slim hips. You stop there, your gaze honing in on his covered thighs and hidden shaft. Unwittingly, you swallow thickly.

“Whatcha doing here, princess?” Toji repeats. Shaken out of your stupor, your eyes snap to his.

“Megumi is a-asleep,” you begin, only to waver when Toji takes a deliberate step forward.

“Ah, the kids are all in bed?” Toji questions, his lips curling into a devilish smirk. The impossible low baritone of his voice rumbles through the air, each reverberation a live wire straight to your core. Clearing your throat, you inhale a deep, steadying breath.

“Y-Yes, so I’m leaving n-now.” You grimace internally when your voice falters once more. Toji’s smirk widens into a predatory grin, his eyes flashing with barely concealed desire.

“You sure that’s whatcha wanna do, dollface?” Toji questions.

Your breath hitches in your throat, your heart thundering within the confines of your rib cage. Still, you somehow find it in yourself to nod.

“You sure?” he taunts.

“Y-Yes, Mr Fushiguro,” you reply. Against your better judgement, for the briefest moment, you glance at the towel wrapped around him, only for your sex to clench when you notice the tented material.

“Like what you see, baby?” Toji hums. The back of your neck prickles, the tips of your ears flushing with heat.

“N-No,” you stammer out, your voice hoarse.

“Hmm. I think you do,” Toji goads. He takes another step forward, your body instinctively taking one back.

“N-No,” you try to refute a second time. Your denial only has Toji laughing.

“Liar,” he sneers. The derisive way in which he spits out the word causes you to whimper, a gush of wetness leaking out of your pussy and into your quickly dampening panties. “You want me, I know you do,” comes Toji’s jeer.

Your hands turn clammy, a cold sweat sweeping through you. No. No, he couldn’t know.

He can’t know.

“I-I don’t,” you rebut. Toji takes another step forward and, on shaky knees, you take one back.

“You do**.** I’ve seen the way you look at me, seen the way those pretty thighs rub together every time I speak,” Toji admits.

Despair flushes through you at the revelation. You had tried your hardest to keep your attraction to the man hidden away. Though, it seemed like your best efforts had failed you. Toji knew**.**

“Dirty little girl, lusting after a man almost twice her age,” Toji gibes.

As he speaks, he deliberately saunters over to you, his entire disposition exuding imposing waves of smug dominance. With each step he closes the distance between you, your own feet moving on shaky limbs as you try to futilely widen it. Within short moments, however, the back of your knees hits the edge of the bed. You don’t expect to come into contact with the bed frame and, with a surprised gasp, you fall over. Your back hits the mattress with a slight bounce, your eyes widening as you stare up at Toji’s looming figure.

Diopside eyes—tumultuous with unbridled hunger—rake over your figure, from your heaving chest, to your slightly parted thighs. Seeing the way your skirt rides up, a hint of lilac peeking through your thighs, Toji groans. One of his large, vascularised hands reaches out and drops to your thigh, the flesh flashing with heat under his touch. Languidly, his fingertips flit up your limb, until you feel the pads graze over your panty-clad sex.

“You always look so pretty in these short little skirts. You wore them for me, didn’t cha, doll? Wore them so you could tease me, flash me the barest hint of that cute ass and get me all riled up.” The knuckles of his fingers brush over the gusset of your underwear in long, teasing strokes, your clit viciously throbbing under his touch.

“Mr Fushiguro, w-we should stop,” you attempt to reason, desperately clinging onto your conscience. But mind addled by desire, the tethers of your morality quickly begin to fray. Against your better judgement, your thighs part further open, offering Toji’s fingers further access to your heated, dewy folds. The action has Toji’s eyes flashing; a hum of approval tremors through his chest.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby. Soaked through these cute panties,” Toji murmurs, his eyes dropping to the apex of your thighs.

Ravenous, he devours the sight of the darkening silk. Toji’s pupils dilate, his juniper irises blackening with fervid hunger at the wet patch, the darkened spot growing as your cunt drools your arousal. Fingers moving over it, your breath catches when you feel the tips of his digits press into your entrance.

“You wore these for me too, didn’t cha, princess?” Toji questions, his eyes flicking up to yours. Mesmerised by them—the vibrant hue having darkened to a deep shade of emerald—you find yourself swept away by their imperious undertow.

“M-Mr Fushiguro—” you begin. Toji tuts, a frown marring his face.

“It’s Toji, baby,” he interjects. Then, his frown morphing, he smirks at you, “Or Daddy, if you prefer.”

“Mr Fushiguro,” your emphasis on his surname is insistent, Toji only chuckling at your futile defiance. “You’re married,” you continue. You may be speaking to Toji, but the reminder is more for you than anything else. Toji has a wife and whatever this is, is wrong.

Toji disregards your statement with a simple, dismissive chuckle, “Do you know how hard you make my cock, huh, doll? How many times I’ve fucked my hand, my pocket pussy, my wife, imagining it was your tight, pretty little cunt instead?”

A scandalised gasp escapes you, your eyes widening at the admission. It’s wrong, the way your mind immediately flashes to how you have imagined the same—that it was Toji’s thick cock inside of you rather than your thin bullet vibrator. It’s immoral, the way your cunt viciously clenches, your wetness leaking out of you as your body practically yearns, weeps for him. It’s a sin, the way your morals willingly, and readily, crumble under Toji’s tenacious seduction.

“But your wife—” you begin, only for Toji to cut you off once more.

“What my wife doesn’t know, won’t hurt her, will it baby? Can be our little secret,” he repeats his words from earlier in the night. Though this time, the secret is heavier, less harmless. This time, it doesn’t cloak a meaningless broken rule. This time, it conceals an illicit affair, one that you know could break a marriage.

“T-Toji, we shouldn’t,” you attempt one last rebuff. Your voice is as weak as your protest, and from the use of his first name, Toji knows he’s won.

“But you want to, don’t you, baby?” Toji coaxes. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you chew on it as you avert your gaze. Then, you nod your head.

“Y-Yes,” you whisper. Your concession is barely audible, your words just a decibel above a whisper. Nonetheless, in the silence of the night, Toji hears it clearly. A triumphant smirk crawls onto his lips, his eyes flashing with victory.

“Yes, what, baby?” Toji urges. Hesitancy floods your eyes and you release your lower lip, choosing to gnaw at the flesh of your inner cheek instead.

“Yes, Daddy,” you quietly answer, shyly looking at him through the thick of your lashes.

“Fuck, you’re a sin, baby,” Toji swears.

In an instant, Toji pounces on you.

You barely have time to think straight as you feel the dip on either side of your hips, Toji’s hulking body caging yours. Gripping your chin in one hand, he angles your face to look at him, and then, his lips descend onto yours. He’s rough and bruising, your eyes slipping shut as you moan into him. Without any warning, his teeth bite down on the swollen fold of your lower lip, causing you to gasp out. Toji uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

The silky appendage glides inside your mouth, curling and twisting in frenzied motions as it lashes against your tongue. Spice fills your mouth, his flavour coats your taste buds and you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation that is Toji’s kiss. He’s voracious, dominating you in a way only he could, his mouth ferocious as it moves over your own. With a few moments, however, your lungs blaze with the need for oxygen and, with a gasp, you tear your lips away from him. Undeterred, Toji kisses his way along your jaw and towards the bottom of your ear, suckling the supple flesh.

“Toji—Fuck,” you mew, your hands curling into his shirt.

“Uh-uh. It’s Daddy now, dollface,” Toji tuts. Fervent fingertips skim up your body, goosebumps prickling under your flesh from the touch, before Toji grips your shirt and divests it off of you. Seeing your bare tits come into view, he quirks an eyebrow.

“No bra? You were practically begging for it, weren’t ya, princess? Wanted me to see these little nipple sticking out your clothes when you’re wet and horny for me, didn’t cha?” Toji belittles. You cower from his gaze and seeing your bashfulness, Toji snickers.

Shifting above you, Toji grips the hem of your skirt before pulling it down your body, haphazardly flinging it onto the floor. He climbs back onto the bed, your thighs reflexively spreading to accommodate him. Left in nothing but your panties, Toji’s eyes deliberately rove over your body and he growls in approval at the lilac undergarment.

“And you definitely wore this for me, didn’t ya, baby?” Toji questions once again, a playful lilt in his voice. You swallow thickly and nod your head, heat flushing across your face.

“Yes,” you whisper, confirming his suspicion.

“Dirty girl, bet you wanted me to fuck you since the day you started babysitting my kids, huh?” Toji taunts. You avert your gaze once again before nodding shyly. “God, you’re fucking filthy. Is this what you wanted?” He unravels the towel from around his waist, leaving him naked.

His cock springs up with a little bounce, your throat drying as it comes into view. You’d always known Toji would be large just from his enormous, bulky physique and you’d spent countless nights imagining just how big he’d be, how he’d stretch you out with a delicious burn. But face to face with it, you realise he’s nowhere close to your imagination. He’s just a little longer the average, the tip sitting a little under his belly button, but it’s his girth that really has your eyes widening. He’s thick, impossibly and absurdly thick, almost the same width as your wrist.

Swallowing thickly, you look up at him, a hint of fear occulting the wanton desire that hazes your eyes. “I-It’s not going to fit,” you stammer.

Toji chuckles mockingly, “It’ll fit doll, I’ll make sure it does.”

The threat is barely concealed, and though it should terrify you, it doesn’t. Rather, your stomach roils with salacious hunger, another gush of wetness leaking out of your cunt. Spreading your thighs further apart, Toji pushes his hips to yours, your eyes rolling back when you feel his pulsating member press flush against your core.

“Fuck! Daddy,” you moan, feeling him grind his hard shaft into your pussy.

The skimpy material of your panties hinders nothing and you feel him, hot and pulsing, through the material. Instinctively, you begin grinding back into him, your hips writhing together in frantic movements while you lose yourselves into pleasure.

“You’re so fucking hot and—fuck—wet,” Toji gasps out.

His hands curl into your hips, fingers digging into the flesh as he pushes his cock harder into you. Precum drips out of his cockhead, the translucent substance saturating into your underwear and mixing with your own juices. When the blunt tip grazes against your throbbing clit, your spine curves off of the bed, your eyes rolling in pleasure. Reflexively, your hips buck, the movement forcing your core harder against him.

“Fuck yes, baby. Just like that. So fucking wet and needy. Shit—ha—so wet, can feel you soak my cock through those cute little panties,” Toji exhales heavily, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly.

“T-Toji,” you whine.

In one fell swoop, Toji’s head dips down. His lips wrap around your nipple, before he bites down harshly, roughly tugging the hardening bud with his teeth. The action tears a cry from your throat, tears stinging your eyes at the pain.

“What did I say, naughty girl? It’s Daddy,” Toji reprimands.

“D-Daddy,” you gasp, your face flushing with heat. Toji bites down once again, your chest automatically pushing up into his face at the sudden pain that flares around your breast.

Toji smirks, “You like when I bite these pretty nipples, huh doll?” His voice reverberates against your skin, a mew spilling from your lips.

He presses the flat of his tongue just under your nipple before laving up in one, long lick. The wet appendage strokes the indurated bud, causing it to twist—almost painfully—harder while you groan under him. You’re so wet now that your panties uncomfortably stick to your folds, the material sodden with a mix of both yours and Toji’s arousal.

“Pretty little baby, you make the sweetest sounds,” Toji coos whilst rolling your nipple between your teeth. Then, with a final, harsh bite, he releases the bud. “Wanna hear more of ‘em.” The murmuration of Toji’s vibrato against your tit has a shiver running down your spine.

Toji begins crawling his way down your body, stopping intermittently to press his lips against you. With each kiss, he bites and sucks your skin harshly, each one blooming mauve bruises over your flesh. He traces his way over your torso, from your sternum, to your abdomen, to your hips. Arriving at them, Toji’s fingertips bury into the swells, his teeth harshly tugging the skin of your left pelvis into his mouth. Sucking and biting hard, he leaves a particularly large hickey, only to pull away and admire his handiwork.

“Mmm—Look so pretty, all marked up by me. Gonna walk around campus with them, aren’t ya, princess? Let everyone know you’re a filthy little whore who got fucked by a married, older man,” Toji disparages.

It’s wrong, god you know it’s wrong, but you can’t help the way you nod your head eagerly, “Yes, Daddy.”

“Such a good little girl. Spread your legs, baby, show Daddy how wet your pussy is for me,” Toji cajoles.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you do as he asks. Laying your feet flat on the bed, your toes curl into the sheets as you bend your knees and splay your thighs further apart. Your obedience has Toji’s chest rumbling with appreciation, his eyes dropping to your cunt. Ardent gaze sweeping over your it, he takes in every inch of the panty-clad, sodden folds. Unable to help himself, he inhales deeply, his pupils dilating when the heady scent of your arousal clouds his senses.

“Fucking hell. You’re so wet I can smell you,” he growls.

The lewdness of his words has a muted squeak escaping your mouth. The heat of embarrassment claws its way up from your throat to the tip of your ears, and suddenly conscious under his gaze, you try to close your thighs. Nonetheless, before you can do so, Toji spots the movement. His large hands drop to your thighs, and pinning them down under his strength, he lets out a low growl of warning. The sound rumbles through the air and straight to your core, a gush of wetness leaking out of you.

“Try that again, dollface, and I’ll have you over my knee,” Toji threatens. You moan in response, your hips bucking into him at the thought. Seeing your reaction, a derisive smirk curls onto Toji’s scarred lips, “Like that, do you? Dirty little girl.”

Under the harshness of his words, lies a hint of affection that causes your stomach to twist, butterflies fluttering through the pits.

“D-Daddy,” you raggedly exhale, your eyes pleading with him.

“Mmm, now let Daddy see his baby’s pretty little cunt,” Toji coaxes. With that, he hooks his pointer finger under the gusset of your sodden underwear, a wet squelch filling the air. The sound has him groaning, and in one motion, he tugs hard. Instantly, the material tears, the sound of ripping fabric echoing through the air.

“Ah—Toji,” you gasp, your eyes widening as you watch him carelessly throw the tattered scraps of material onto the bed. Toji pays no attention to the reprimanding tone in your voice. Rather, his gaze is fixated on your pussy, his pupils dilating when he sees your drenched sex, the folds saturated with your juices.

“Fuck, princess. You’re already so sloppy and Daddy’s not even done anything yet.”

As he speaks, Toji presses his fingers against your folds, and then splaying his digits in a ‘V’, he spreads your cunt open wider. Then, using his free hand, he explores your sex: tracing the outline of your engorged, throbbing clit, down the glistening folds of your pussy, and towards the leaking rings of muscle that make up your entrance. Continually repeating the motions, he strokes his digits through your cunt, wetting the lengths in your arousal.

The teasing motions of Toji’s feathery touch as he plays with your cunt slowly drives you wild, pleasure coiling within your womb. With each stroke of his fingers, thick, filmy ropes of your juices cling to his digits, the strings thinning as he pulls them away. With rapt fascination, Toji watches as they snap, splashing back onto your drenched hole. When he’s sufficiently coated his fingers in your wetness, he slowly pulls away. Raising his slick fingers to his face, Toji’s eyes glint with mischief.

“Such a wet little pussy, you’ve soaked my fingers too, baby,” Toji purrs, unable to hide the glee in his voice. Lifting his hand up, he brings it over to your mouth. The pads of his fingertips brush against them, coating your lips in a thin sheen of your own arousal.

“Taste how needy you are. Suck,” he commands.

Instantly, you obey.

Slowly, your lips part open, only to wrap around his pointer and middle finger. Keeping your gaze locked on his, you begin to suckle. Your tongue swirls around his digits, and hollowing out your cheeks, the lengths press against your warm flesh. The vacuum-like suction has Toji moaning in appreciation.

“Such a good little bitch for me,” Toji praises. His fingers retreat from your mouth with a pop and instead, his hands drop to rest on your thighs once more.

Tongue darting out, Toji licks a broad line up through your folds, from your pulsating hole all the way to your throbbing clit. Your arousal coats the hollow of his tongue, the heady essence glazing his palate. Soft groan rumbling from within his chest, Toji presses the silken appendage flat onto your sex, relishing in the juices that spill from your cunt and onto his palate.

“Fuck, knew you’d taste sweet,” Toji mutters. As his cool breath fans across your heated folds, a shiver runs down your spine. Swiping his tongue through your cunt once more, he savours your taste with a low groan, “Knew you’d be sweeter than my wife.” His words reverberate through your clit, the vibrations sending sparks of electric pleasure up your nerves.

“D-Daddy,” you mew with a stutter.

Emboldened, he presses two of his sticky digits against your dewy lips and once more parts them. Splaying your cunt under the motion, he bares your throbbing clit and quivering hole to his view once again, watching the way they pulse.

“Awww, look how wet and swollen your needy little cunt is,” he hums. With how close he is to your pussy, each word he utters causes his scarred lips to teasingly graze against your tumescent bundle of nerves.

Breath turning ragged, your fingers card into his raven tresses, entangling them at his roots. Gripping his hair, you attempt to pull him further into your cunt, your hips simultaneously bucking into his face. Toji chuckles and wraps his lips around your clit before he lightly suckles the engorged bud. Fingers tightening in his hair, you tug his head once again, and encouraged by the action, Toji circles your clit with agile strokes. Head digging into the mattress, your back arches at the ministration, a shallow gasp escaping your mouth.

“Daddy, please,” you moan, the hollow sound resonating through the air.

Without warning, Toji points his tongue and begins tracing the outline of your sex: around your bundle of nerves, down the petals of your folds, and towards the honeyed entrance of your pussy. Skin flashing, heat prickles over your skin, your blood boiling as he begins tonguing the trembling ring of your cunt in languid strokes. Suddenly, he flattens his tongue against the hole, and with a broad swipe, he licks all the way up to your clit. Whorling his silken appendage around the bud, he wraps his plump lips around it and bites down on the swollen bundle. The sudden pleasure has you shrieking out his name, the words coming out louder, and higher pitched, than you’d intended.

Toji pulls away from you and “Be quiet, princess. Or you’ll wake my kids,” he warns.

Moving to enclose his lips around your engorged bud once again, his tongue lashes against your clit repeatedly, his teeth occasionally against it and causing you to croon his name. Under his ministrations, the walls of your core clench painfully, emphasising the emptiness between them.

“Please, Daddy m-more,” you beg, your hips rocking against him.

Toji releases your clit at your plea, and with one hand still splaying your folds open, he uses the other to trace the slick, twitching opening; your breath hitches in response. Lightly dipping the tip of his pointer finger into you, “Is this what you want, dollface?” he asks with a mocking coo.

Feeling the infuriatingly subtle stretch, you frantically nod your head. Unimpressed with your answer, however, Toji’s fingers move to roughly pinch your clit.

“Tell me what you want,” he commands. Pain coalesces with ecstasy at the harsh action, the juxtaposing sensations setting your nerves afire. Liquid lust surges through your abdomen, the sear of pleasure that swirls in your stomach making you cry out with need.

“W-Want your fingers,” comes your pitiful response, your eyes stinging with tears.

“That’s my pretty baby,” Toji praises. With that, he plunges one finger hilt deep into you. Feeling the sudden stretch, your eyes snap open. A strangled moan of pleasure rips from your throat, the sound morphing into a low mewl when he begins twisting the length inside of you. Back arching at the sensation, you cry out his name.

Suddenly spanking your pussy, “I said quiet,” he seethes with a hiss. Pulling his finger out, Toji plunges it back inside, revelling in the way your slick, pliant walls cling to his digit.

“Fuck, this is such a tight cunt,” he groans.

Curling his digit into you, he explores his finger through your slick, velvet walls, and when a jagged moan emanates from your lips, he knows he’s found what he’s looking for. Pads of his fingertip pressing flat against the spongy tissues, he wiggles his finger against your sweet spot.

“O-Oh god,” you shakily breathe out, your eyes fluttering open and shut. Molten pleasure intensifies into a blistering heat within the pit of your stomach and, thighs beginning to shake on either side of his head, your breath turns ragged.

“P-Please,” you choke out.

“Yeah, you like that, pretty baby? Like when Daddy fingers this tiny little hole?” he hums, the deceptively sweet intonation hiding the dark, imperious undertow of his voice.

You open your mouth to respond, only for the words to morph into a garbled cry when Toji pushes his finger deeper into you. Slowly, he begins pistoning the digit into you, the strokes slow and deep. With each thrust, his finger drags against your g-spot, causing ecstasy to blur your vision.

“Daddy, p-please! Wanna—ha—make me—ah!” Your pleas are choked, each broken by a breathy moan.

Despite your best efforts to articulate your wants, Toji’s incessant fingers make it impossible for you to form coherent sentences. On the cusp of your approaching orgasm, ecstasy burns through your bloodstream. As the rattling of your thighs intensifies beside him, however, Toji is abruptly pulling his drenched finger out of you.

Distraught over the sudden retreat of his digits, “N-No,” you cry, your hips wildly thrashing under him as you pitifully attempt to chase his hands. Painfully, your walls clench around nothing, and feeling your growing orgasm start to subside, tears mist your eyes.

“Quiet,” Toji hisses, his eyes gleaming dangerously. Under him, you heave for air, your eyes screwing shut as you shake your head and thrust your hips into his face.

“Wanna cum. Daddy, please, wanna cum,” you sob.

His scarred lips twist into a sardonic smirk before Toji spanks your cunt once more. The moment his hand meets the soaked flesh of your cunt, a wet slap echoes through the air. Toes curling at the harsh impact, you sob dryly.

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll gag you,” he threatens.

As he speaks, he repeatedly brings the palm of his hand down onto your tumid clit, and with each slap, your cunt clenches around nothing. Nerves electrified from his spanks, your hands fall from his hair and down to the mattress beside you. Your fingers twist into the sheets, your frustration building as you grow delirious from his action. Every impact of his hand has your pussy contracting around nothing, your walls weeping to be filled. With garbled sobs, you moan unintelligibly.

“Daddy—” you begin to wail, only to be cut off when Toji stuffs your tattered panties into your mouth.

Eyes widening as you feel the satin gag, your hand moves to pull it down. Instantly, Toji brings his hand onto your cunt, this time, harder than his previous ones. Pain blends with pleasure and, clit smarting under the impact, you screech. Nevertheless, muffled by the underwear gagging your mouth, the sound comes out inarticulate.

“Be a good little girl for Daddy and keep that in, yeah baby? If you do, Daddy’ll let ya scream as much as you want, princess,” he smirks, his eyes glinting with mischief. Muffled whimper dissipating from your throat, your hand drops back to the ground, and you look at him through large, pleading eyes. Seeing the obedience in your tear-misted eyes, Toji coos, “That’s my good girl.”

With that, he dips his head back to your cunt. In a fluid motion, he pushes his slick digit back into you, though this time, it’s followed by a second. The girth of the two fingers stretches out your pliant walls, an euphoric sear thrumming through your flesh. Feeling the way he spreads your cunt open, Toji groans in pleasure.

“Fuck, you’ve got such a tiny, little cunt, princess. Daddy can’t wait to stretch it. Fuck it open. Leave it gaping with my cum,” Toji groans. Each sentiment is emphasised by a thrust of his fingers, the digits expertly stroking your sweet spot. You nod your head eagerly.

“You like that doll? Yeah, I know you do. Mmm, you’re so small… but that greedy little hole will take my cock whole, won’t it baby? You’ll take my fat dick better than my wife ever has, won’t you?” Toji mocks.

As he speaks, he spreads the fingers inside of you and opens your entrance for him. You moan at the stretch, but before you can register what’s happening, Toji plunges his stiff tongue inside of you. Eyes widening, you wail in pleasure at the sudden penetration, your spine contorting off of the ground. Frantically, you writhe your hips against his face, Toji furiously plunging his tongue into you over and over again.

“That’s it princess, ride Daddy’s face,” Toji urges, the words reverberating through your cunt. He presses further into your sex and, tongue swirling inside of you, he laps at your sodden, trembling muscles.

Ecstasy ripples across your nerves, your breath turning ragged. Lifting your shaky hands, you bury them into his thick tresses once again as your eyes roll back at his ministrations. With each contraction of your walls, you drip over his mouth, your wetness leaking thickly over his tongue and straight down his chin. Despite the messiness, however, like a beast starved, Toji drinks you up, his tongue vehemently lapping against your inner walls.

“Fuck you taste so good. This sweet cunt belongs to me, doesn’t it doll? Yeah. I know it does. Can feel you drip like a whore all over my tongue,” Toji taunts. Between the way he’s buried between your thighs, and your pleasure-blurred vision, you can’t see Toji's face. Nonetheless, you feel the way he smirks into your pussy.

Feeling the tell-tale signs of your approaching orgasm, you press your shoulders flat into the bed, and bracing your weight on them, you lift your hips and push them further into his face. At the action, Toji groans against your sex and the vibrations cause you to wildly buck into him. In response, he curls the two fingers inside of you, moving them in tandem to his tongue—all three appendages thrusting into you over and over again. Stomach quivering in pleasure, you feel your skin flash with heat.

“Toji, wanna cum,” you plead. Though, thanks to your makeshift gag, the words come out muffled and indecipherable. Still, from your ragged breath and the vice-like, erratic grip of your cunt—the silken walls practically milking his tongue—Toji knows you’re close.

“Hmmm? What’s that, baby doll? Daddy can’t understand you,” Toji taunts as he pulls away from your cunt.

A garble of displeasure emanates from your throat and your eyes screw shut as you let out a sob. Keeping his fingers inside of you, Toji languidly thrusts them in and out of you. Immediately, your quickly building orgasm slows, though, it doesn’t completely disappear. Rather, with his fingers languorously dragging over every one of your inner erogenous zones, he draws out your impending pleasure.

“My pretty little baby wants to cum?” he mocks, his eyes flashing in mirth.

A hand moves to lay the side of his thumb flat against your pulsating clit before Toji begins stroking the bud. Repetitively, it grazes your bundle of nerves and as he rolls it under the pad, your pleasure is intensified.

The additional sensation causes you to cry out—the sound swallowed by the panties gagging your mouth—as your skin prickles with spikes of white-hot pleasure. Jaw slackening, you attempt to swallow in a bid to lubricate your dry throat. However, with the cotton of your underwear soaking up all your spit, all you manage to do is choke. Instead, with a frantic nod, you wordlessly answer him, your hips desperately squirming against his hand as you try to quicken his pace.

Haze of euphoria clouding your mind, you struggle to form any cohesive thoughts as you lose yourself in your growing orgasm. Above you, Toji lets out a hum of thought, his fingers slowing down even further. Frustration wells up inside of you, and tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, you sob out his name—your mouth dry from the panties soaking up your spit—as you look up at him with an imploring gaze.

“Yeah, baby doll? Wanna cum?” he questions, a dark, predatory smirk tugging at his lips.

“P-Please,” comes your suppressed mew, the tears finally spilling from your eyes and down your cheeks. Cooing at the desperate, undone sight of you, Toji’s smirk broadens.

“Awww, look at my baby doll, crying for Daddy to make her cum,” Toji hums. Then, head dropping back to your cunt, “Cum, then. Cum for Daddy,” he commands. As he speaks, the two fingers buried inside of you curl to press against your sweet spot, and simultaneously, he wraps his mouth around your clit before sucking hard.

With his fingers plunging in and out of you vehemently, and his lips sucking harshly at your clit, Toji all of a sudden forces you off of the edge of your orgasm and straight into pleasure. Spine contorting, your head and hips dig into the mattress, while your back arches off of it. Instantly, your muscles lock, a muffled wail ripping out of your lungs as you cry out his name. Wave after wave of euphoria crashes over you, and under the sweeping tide of your orgasm, you drown in rapturous bliss. Thighs viciously trembling on either side of his face, you writhe and squirm under Toji, your hips wildly bucking into his face as ecstasy consumes you.

“Fuck, yeah. That’s it, princess. Such a good little girl, cumming all over Daddy’s fingers,” Toji praises, your walls clamping around his fingers.

Through your orgasm, Toji refuses to pull away from your pussy. Rather, he increases the intensity of his actions. His tongue lashes against your clit and his fingers piston in and out of your cunt. Pain of overstimulation gripping your over-sensitised sex, tears stream down your face as Toji nibbles on your clit, drawing out your orgasm.

Through your foggy mind—the euphoric fog of your orgasm eclipsing your mind—you vaguely register the pain that flitters through you, and thighs snapping shut, you attempt to stop him. Simultaneously, your hands move to push against his head. Nonetheless, with his head trapped by your thighs, and Toji’s own strength, he barely budges.

“Ah—Mmmm—Hnnn,” you groan inarticulately. When he strokes the pads of his fingertips over your g-spot, you sob in pleasure. The loosened knot of euphoria in your stomach tightens, and midst your orgasm, something begins building up deep within the pits of your abdomen.

Unceasingly, Toji suckles at your throbbing clit with his scarred lips and pushing his fingers further into you, he purposely drags his fingers over your sweet-spot once more, causing you to howl in pleasure. His actions cause your nerves to flare with electricity, a searing sensation surging through your bloodstream, and under the overwhelming, unadulterated pleasure, your entire body begins to tremble.

Out of the blue, Toji bites down on your clit, and jolts of pain sparking up the bundle of nerves, you immediately screech. Pain blends with pleasure, white-spots blinding your vision. Abruptly, the knot within your stomach unravels and, sudden relief flushing through your abdomen, you’re forced over the precipice of blissful ecstasy once again. Jaw slackening, your mouth falls open and your throat strains as you force out a silent cry. Your walls tighten without warning around Toji’s fingers, the forceful contractions causing pelt after pelt of your cum to squirt out of you.

“Fucking hell,” Toji mutters, his eyes widening as he feels you gush around his fingers. Thick, filmy rivers of your essence spray out of you onto his fingers and face, before splashing onto his mattress. Seeing the way your cum soaks into the sheet, Toji snickers, “Oh you’re filthy, aren’t you, baby doll? Look at you, you’ve soaked the sheets.”

“Mpf—” you try to respond, your tongue fighting against the gag to form intelligible words.

Gasping for air, your muscles erratically twitch from the sheer force of your orgasm. As your eyes flutter open, the white-spots fade, though, unshed tears still blur your vision. Taking pity on you, Toji pulls the panties from your mouth and instead throws it onto the floor. With your mouth finally free from the gag, you purposely gather spit in your mouth and swallow thickly—in a bid to soothe your dry throat.

Gaze dropping to Toji, the heat of embarrassment tinges your cheeks at the way his broad chest glistens—his skin glazed in your cum. Letting a high-pitched whine out, you bashfully look away. Sensing your humiliation, Toji chuckles.

“Look at the mess you made, princess. What am I going to tell my wife, huh? That our naughty little babysitter drenched the sheets with her cum? That it was my fingers and tongue that made her do it, hmm?” he taunts.

Each word drips out his mouth like viscous honey, each sentiment rife with lust and carnality. The mention of his wife causes your morals to voice themselves once more. Nonetheless, you’re far too inebriated by his seduction, the weak voice of your conscience stifled by your blistering desire. You gulp audibly. In the way you’re enticed—easily tempted—by him, he’s the devil himself, you’re sure of it. Yet, even with the dark edge of his intonation, you can’t help but want to give in to the hedonistic, sinful euphoria he promises.

“Please, Daddy,” comes your plea, your wide, doe-like eyes staring up at him. Heeding your words, Toji crawls up your body, your thighs spreading further apart as he settles between them.

Gripping the base of his shaft with one hand, Toji angles it towards your entrance and smacks the bulbous head against it. A loud, wet smack resonates through the air, and feeling the heavy weight of his cockhead against your wet cunt, you whine in need. Flexing his hips, slides the entire length of his cock through your slit. Your slick lips spread onto the underside of his thick girth, and with each stroke, the prominent seam of his cockhead drags against your hardened clit, causing you to moan.

“Is this what you want, princess?” Toji questions, his voice deceptively sweet.

You nod your head eagerly, “Yes, please. Please.”

“Look at you. Daddy’s pretty little baby doll. So fucked out and needy for my cock,” Toji smirks predatorily, his teeth peeking through the seam of his lips.

Jade eyes—tempestuous with hunger—lock onto your own and, while holding your stare, Toji drags his cock down your folds in one long stroke, before pressing the head at your fluttering entrance. As the crown of his bulbous cockhead pushes against your ringed entrance, you both moan. Turning his attention down to your drenched folds, Toji hisses when he spots the way your honeyed hole twitches.

“Such a small, wet, little cunt,” Toji groans. Gripping his cock tighter, he circles the head around your hole, “Fuck dollface, look at how tiny your cunt is compared to my cock. I don’t think it’s going to fit,” he chuckles.

Derision is heavy in his tone, and despite the clear taunt, you frantically shake your head. “It’ll fit, please Daddy, want you,” you whine, your hips thrusting to take him into you.

“Yeah, dollface? Think ya can take Daddy’s cock?” Toji taunts.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble.

“Yeah, baby? Think that tight cunt can fit my fat cock? Think ya can take it better than my wife?” he jeers. Your pussy clenches, the empty ache between your thighs close to torturous. Eyes welling with tears, you sob.

“I can! I can. Please, Daddy. Please,” comes your soughed pleas. Toji snickers at the desperation in your voice, one of his thumbs moving to brush a tear from your cheek.

“Ha—yer such a whore, princess, crying for my cock like this,” Toji mocks. He raises his thumb to his lips, his tongue poking out to lick the tear away. “Daddy’s pretty, needy little cockslut,” he derides.

“Daaaady,” you whine, your hips writing into his. With a wry grin, Toji begins pressing the crown of his cock against your sopping hole. A dull pressure builds up against your cunt, your eyes widening as a whimper slips through your lips at the sensation.

“Fuck. Yer gonna be so tight, princess. Have you ever had a cock this big, doll?” Toji questions. Though, from the cocky inflexion of his voice, you know he knows you haven’t.

“N-No, Daddy,” you stammer, your voice higher than you’d intended.

Your cunt is dripping, sloppy with your cum, and as such, Toji should slide easily into your entrance. Nonetheless, he struggles to thrust his head into you, his thick girth causing the taut muscles of your pussy to protest the stretch.

“Of course you haven’t, baby doll. Bet no one’s fucked this cunt open the way I’m going to,” he chuckles arrogantly. For a moment, your eyes flutter shut. Instantly, the hand wrapped around his cock moves to grip the delicate column of your neck and, fingertips squeezing against the side, he chokes you.

“Look at me. Want ya to watch as Daddy ruins this tiny hole,” he sibilates.

With a whimper, your eyes snap open and catch his stare. And in that exact moment, Toji thrusts harshly.

The force of his movement causes the mushroom-tip of his cockhead to squeeze into you with a sudden pop. Spine twisting, a dry sob tears from your throat as your back arches. Thick tears track down your cheeks, pleasure and pain surging through your body.

“D-Daddy,” you cry, the sound broken by a hiccup.

A searing ache burns ripples through your tight cunt, the ringed muscles smarting as they strain around Toji’s indurated, unforgiving shaft. Nevertheless, even through the agonising burn, an intoxicating undercurrent of pleasure thrums through you—pure ecstasy cutting the pain of your pussy being split apart by his girth.

“Fuck—Ya so pretty like this baby; crying as my cock ruins yer tiny, wet hole,” he groans.

The fingers around your throat flex, squeezing your neck firmer as he begins pushing his cock further into you. Inch by heavy, agonising inch, his unyielding hardness spears into your cunt, the thick girth of his cock pulling apart your walls. When he’s around half way into you, you let out a strangled cry, the torturous ecstasy overwhelming you. Your hands shoot out to clutch his muscular shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh.

“F-Fuck, Daddy—h-huge,” you hiccup.

Toji coos sardonically, “Still think ya can take it, princess? Hmmm? Can this sweet little cunt handle my cock?”

Your nails rake down to his pecks, leaving angry, red welts in their wake and, “Daddy,” you slur, your brain too electrified with euphoria to articulate a single sentence.

“Ha. Already fucked ya dumb, have I?” Toji ridicules.

Without a warning, his hips plunge forward. The action causes the final few inches of his cock into you, the length bottoming out to the hilt. The sudden movement has you howling, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Against your will, your cunt ripples around his cock, your inner muscles contracting and clenching around his unrelenting shaft in a bid to force out the thick intrusion. Nonetheless, with Toji’s hips pressing firmly against yours, the clamping only massages his cock. With his cock completely buried inside you now—his balls pressing flush against your wet sex—Toji halts, the hold on your throat slackening.

“Ah, fuck. Fuck, yer so fucking tight. Fuck—sweetest pussy I’ve ever fucked,” he moans, luxuriating in the silken grip of your cunt, his head falling back as it pulses around his cock.

Toji takes in the expression of agonised euphoria that paints your visage. Your eyes are glassy behind half-lids, your jaw slackened—a little bit of drool spilling out—as you pant under him. With each laboured breath, you whimper, your smarting walls stretched to their limit as you try to get used to his size. With wide blinks, you look up at him through tear-stained lashes.

“B-Better than your wife?” you ask, your voice breathless and higher pitched than you’d anticipated.

Toji groans at your words, his hips retreating before snapping back into yours as he starts thrusting into you.

“Dirty whore. Yer so naughty. But fuck—yeah, yeah,” comes his breathy response. “Even better than my wife. You’ve got the tightest, wettest cunt, princess. Such a good slut for me, taking my dick so good. Fuucckkk—” Toji groans out, each sentiment emphasised by a hard thrust.

“H-Hurts,” you whine, your palms pressing against his defined pectorals.

“Yeah? Fuck, bet it does. You’re so tight. But ya love it, don’t you dollface? Love how my cock’s fucking your tiny pussy open,” he jeers. In response, Toji’s grip on your throat tightens once more, his strength pinning you down and using his grip as an anchor as he fucks into you.

Your tits bounce from the force of his thrusts, the soft mounds bounding in little circles as he uses your pussy like a fleshlight. All of a sudden, his hand moves from your throat to paw at your tits. Moaning out, you mewl as he roughly palms at the flesh, rolling and massaging it in his large hand, his thumb mindlessly tweaking the hardened nipple.

“Hnn, yeah, Daddy,” you pant.

He swivels his hips, your spine twisting off of the bed as you feel his cockhead drag against your sweet-spot before battering into your cervix. With each and every one of his thrusts, his thick shaft opens up your walls, the velvet hardness stimulating every erogenous zone and setting your nerves afire with pleasure. Hoarse cries of ecstasy tear from your throat, his cock vehemently surging into you over and over again.

“Yeah? Yeah. Fuck, know you do princess. Can feel ya greedy little hole swallowing me,” he groans.

“Ha—Daddy,” you breathily mew.

Toji can’t help but chuckle, “That all you know now, baby doll? Huh? Only Daddy’s name?”

Somehow, you feel his pace increase, and suddenly, he’s jackhammering into you. You bounce under his cock, your body jerked up and down the mattress from the powerful force of his thrusts. Your hands move from his chest, your arms circling around his shoulders as your legs wrap around his waist, clinging onto him. The position pushes Toji deeper into you, your eyes rolling back once more as you feel his cockhead bruisingly smack against the back walls of your cunt. A throbbing pain begins intensifying deep within your womb.

“T-Too much. Too much. Daddy—deep. Too deep,” you cry. Despite your words, however, Toji continues rutting into you as he chases his own pleasure.

“Be Daddy’s good slut and take it,” Toji urges in retaliation. Feeling your walls erratically clamp around him, his chest rumbles with a groan. As his own balls start to clench, his shaft beginning to viciously throb inside of you, “Fuck. Fuck, yer so fucking tight, Princess. Gonna cum soon. You on birth control?” he questions.

“N-No,” you stutter out with a shake of your head.

“Fuck, yer gonna get impregnated tonight then, baby doll. No way Daddy’s gonna pull out a pussy this good,” Toji hisses in pleasure. Wired beyond belief, the implications and consequences of his words are lost on you. Rather, the thought of him cumming deep inside you only sets your nerves on fire, unbridled ecstasy coursing through your veins.

“P-Please,” you gasp.

“Fuck, you want that? Want my cum to fill up your fertile little womb?” Toji asks, his words punctuated by deep, hard plunges. The blunt head of his cock batters against the supple walls of your cervix, a dull ache forming within your womb and hips from the unforgiving power of his thrusts.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, please Daddy. Cum in me,” you urge, your tongue loosened by euphoria as your brain hazes with pleasure. Hearing your response, Toji chuckles, the dark sound reverberating through the air. Lowering his chest, his lips brush over your ear.

“Yeah? Wasn’t enough to babysit my kids was it, doll? You wanna have ‘em now too?” Toji growls out; punctuating his words with a sharp thrust. Feeling him surge in deeper, you sob in ecstasy; euphoric tears stinging at your eyes as you feel intense, unadulterated bliss course through your veins. Your nails rake over his flesh, each leaving deep welts all over his shoulders and chest.

“Please—Fuck, Daddy, please,” you plead. Toji chuckles once again.

“What are we gonna tell my wife, huh baby? That I fucked your tight little cunt in our bed? That yer pussy was so good, so fucking tight, that I had no choice but to cum inside? That yer cunt is better than hers and so I had to put a baby inside?” Toji mocks, a blatant taunt tainting his gravelly voice.

“Hnnn—Daddy,” you gasp.

Feeling the way your thighs tremble on either side of his hips, one of Toji’s hands slips between your thighs and, cupping your sex, he presses his thumb to your clit. Electric ecstasy jolts through you, and with the additional stimulation, you climb higher and higher towards the crux of your climax. Your thighs quake vehemently, white-hot heat jolting up your spine as you feel your orgasm tear through you.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for Daddy,” Toji urges, punctuating his command with a well placed thrust. Unable to hold back, a strangled cry escapes from your throat as you cum around Toji’s cock.

Erratically, the walls of your cunt contract around Toji, and feeling your silken pussy constrict over his shaft, he snarls, his pace picking up. His cock surges ferociously into you, every thrust drawing out your orgasm and forcing endless wave after endless wave of ecstasy to flood your being. As your walls ripples over his cock, Toji feels his own end draw near.

“Oh fuck, yer pretty cunt’s milking my cock, doll. Fuck—gonna cum,” Toji groans, his furious rhythm becoming stuttered. Instinctively, your legs move to wrap around your Toji’s narrow waist, and hooking your ankles together, you lock his body between yours.

“C-Cum inside, Daddy,” you force out, the words strained as they escape your raw throat.

“Oh fuck,” Toji groans, his own orgasm surging through him.

Abruptly, his hips drive forward, Toji burying himself as deep into your cunt as physically possible, before he grinds into you. Rope after rope of his thick cum shoots out of his cock and against your supple cervix, flooding your gummy walls and painting them white in his essence. Through the overstimulated fog of ecstasy, you feel the torrent of his seed pour into you, your womb overwhelmed with his warmth.

While your body uncontrollably spasms—your muscles still reeling with the aftershocks of your orgasm—you slowly come to. The blunt ache of his cockhead ramming against the back walls of your pussy blends with the sharp, stinging pain of overstimulation—the overwhelming sensations setting your nerves afire.

“T-Too deep,” you rasp out. Your eyes screw shut, tears rolling down your cheek. Above you, Toji chuckles. He bends down—a strangled sob spilling from your mouth when you feel his cock push deeper into you—and licks the wet trails up.

“Gotta be this deep to get ya nice and pregnant,” comes Toji’s instant response. You moan at his words, your pussy involuntarily clenching around him. “Mmmm, such a greedy cunt, milking my cock so nicely,” Toji hums.

Gradually, you drift back to reality, the high of your climax ebbing into a post-orgasmic fog. Breath laboured, the two of you heave for air. Feeling the dryness of your throat, you swallow thickly in a bid to lubricate the strained muscles of your oesophagus. As your mind slowly clears, you feel Toji slip his cock out of you and the inescapable sensation of his cum spilling out of you hits you like a freight train.

The weight of your morals returning to you shatters your bliss and, with a gasp, you try to push him off of you. From above you, Toji quirks an eyebrow. Nonetheless, you purposely avoid his eyes. You can’t believe you’ve just slept with a married man. And not just any married man, but the man married to your employer.

Oh, if Hisano finds out, you’re so screwed.

“Woah, what’s up, Princess?” Toji asks, his forefinger and thumb angling your chin to look at him.

“I-I should go before—” you begin. The shakiness of your voice betrays your panic, though, your nerves only turn to anger when you hear Toji chuckle. Eyes snapping to his, you glare at him. Toji only smirks back.

“We’ve separated, doll. She’s not coming back. Too busy fucking her boss,” Toji says. The admission stuns you, your anger fading into incredulity. Despite the gravity of his words, his tone is light, said in a devil-may-care manner that seems out of place considering he’d just admitted to his wife’s own infidelity.

“W-What?” you whisper.

In spite of the situation, you can’t help the flicker of glee that flitters through you and, seeing the odd inkling of joy twinkle in your eyes, Toji laughs, “Like it that much, huh, doll?”

“N-No.” Heat stains your cheeks, the tips of your ears burning as you stammer out in denial.

Toji snorts in response, “Don’t lie, I know ya like me Princess,” Toji reveals. Embarrassment flushes through you and in a bid to hide from his mischievous gaze, you cover your face with your hands. Your actions only has Toji snorting once more, “Can’t play the innocent little babysitter when yer so full of my cum dollface.”

As he speaks one of his hand slips between your thighs, his thick fingers pressing against your sloppy pussy. A wet, lewd squelch fills the air as he pushes two of the digits inside you, displacing his cum from your cunt and causing it to seep out of your battered, slightly gaping hole. A jolt of pleasure surges up your spine.

“T-Toji,” you whine. Before you can say anything else, however, Toji’s fingers retreat from within your slick depths, and instead, he presses his indurated shaft against your leaking hole once more. Eyes widening, you retreat from behind the cover of your hands to stare at him in incredulity. “Again? Already?” you ask in bewilderment.

“You didn’t think once would be enough, did you baby?” he gibes. With that, he pushes the bulbous head into you, the sudden stretch causing you to wince in pain. Leaning forward, Toji runs his nose over the corner of your jaw before taking the soft flesh of your earlobe between his teeth. Nibbling lightly, he almost purrs, “Didn’t Daddy say he was gonna get his pretty little baby pregnant?”

“S-Surely you weren’t being serious?” you gasp out, the sound morphing into a deep moan when Toji thrusts his cock into your silken cavern.

“Oh, I was being very serious, doll,” Toji chuckles lowly, the sound dark and devilish. Purposely, he lowers his voice, until the sound rumbles through the silent room, the rich timbre broken only by the wet sounds of his cock slowly fucking into you, “Daddy’s gonna fuck you until that pretty little cunt is filled with cum and your cute little womb is all swollen with my seed.”

The lasciviousness of his words isn’t lost on you. It’s wrong, you know it is. You can’t get pregnant, you’re almost half Toji’s age, not to mention, you’re still at university and he already has two children. Yet, you can’t deny the sheer thrill you feel as his words sink into you. Perhaps you’d lost your mind, erotic pleasure devouring any and every remnant of logical reasoning. Perhaps Toji really had fucked you stupid. Perhaps you never had any morality, or rationale, in the first place lusting after a married, older man. Whatever it is, though, you can’t seem to care. Especially not when Toji utters his next words.

“Hell, if you’re good for me, I may even make you my pretty little wife,” Toji coos with a promise. His voice is as sweet as sin, as tempting as the devil, and unable to resist, you wholeheartedly, and wilfully, throw yourself into his seduction.

Wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, your nails dig into their corded muscles and, “Please,” you all but beg.

A wolfish grin curls onto Toji’s scarred lips and eyes glinting with wickedness, “That’s my girl,” Toji praises.

a/n: listen. i have no excuse for the depths of this depravity.

m.list

[b-o-e]

alone with you Wally Darling x Reader

Warnings: aauugbsn sad wally? fluff!!

although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #3 :)

You and Wally sneak away for a breath of fresh air, providing the perfect opportunity to try to get your feelings off your chest.

“Would you like to step outside with me, neighbour?” 

It was a Friday night, meaning the residents of the neighbourhood were gathered at Julie’s home for one of your weekly little jamborees.

Perplexed by Wally’s unusual desire to leave a social setting, you eyed him worriedly.

“...Are you feeling ill?” You fret, facing him to provide your full attention, going as far as gently pressing the back of your hand against his forehead. 

“No, ha ha,” he giggled at your concern, “I’d just like to get away for a few moments,” he reassured, taking your hand into his. “Are you alright with that?” he squeezed it, wanting to ensure you wished to come along.

“I don’t mind at all,” you took him up on his offer, glancing down at your hands. A normal occurrence within your… friendship, but it still gives you hopeful butterflies.

“Actually, I was beginning to grow a tad overwhelmed, so I’m quite glad you offered,” you smiled. He returned it with a nod of understanding.

“Good timing, I suppose. Off we go, then,” he hummed, gently pulling you along to the front door, the two of you slipping away unnoticed.

The temperature outside was a little cool for the summer, but it was tolerable. The sky was clear and bright with stars, crickets playing their sounds while muffled chatter came from Julie’s house. 

You walked at a slow, lazy pace next to Wally, sucking in a deep breath of the fresh air.

“So,” you began, your voice soft, “is there really no reason you wanted to get away?” You questioned, looking over at Wally. “You’re not usually one to leave to need a break from people,” you chuckled.

“Everything is okay, right?” 

Wally hummed softly, gently swinging your hands. You had forgotten they were still interlocked.

“I am. Especially with you around, neighbour,” he reassured, giving you another gentle squeeze. “I just wanted to spend more one-on-one time with you,” he added, smiling. 

“Things were getting pretty hectic in there, and you did seem like you maybe needed a break… I assumed it would benefit us both to come out here,”

“Thanks, then,” you murmured, peering down at your feet to try to hide your embarrassment, “I appreciate you looking out for me,” you said. “Do you want to do anything specific, or are you just in a walking mood?”

“Well,” he slowed his pace until he stopped, you doing the same. Your hands wouldn’t have allowed you to go much further, anyways.

“Why don’t we watch the stars?” He suggested.

You stared at him incredulously.

“... Right here?” You giggled. You looked down at the road under your feet, eyes then returning to his.

“Why not?” He grinned. He released his hold on you, plopping right down on the ground and laying back. 

“Join me?” 

You stood there for a moment, staring down at him as he patted the space next to his body. What had gotten into him tonight? You blew out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. Nonetheless, you sat beside him.

You settled down on the ground, your stomach facing up. Your hands served as a pillow under your head, cushioning it from the pavement.

Your lungs filled with the fresh, damp summer air, as you let your eyelids fall shut. Bugs continued to sing their chorus into the night, the muffled sound of distant laughter coming from the bustling house the two of you had just escaped.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Wally’s gentle murmur arose from beside you. 

You reopened your eyes, staring into the endless pool of twinkling stars above you. The crescent moon gleamed its ethereal light, illuminating enough for you to see Wally's soft, curled smile as you turned your head towards him.

"... It is," you mumbled back, studying him. "Sorry to be so straightforward," you apologize in advance, "but you look very pretty in this lighting." Or maybe he was very pretty all the time, but you didn’t quite have the confidence to be that straightforward yet.

He seemed to be taken aback by the sudden compliment though, his pupils dilating as his mouth opened as if to try to say something. It shut, a moment passing, before he tried again.

"... you really are the most," he uttered, his elbow against the ground, hand propping his head up. "I could say the same to you, though, neighbour."

"You're a darling, Darling," you chuckled, cheeks flushing as you managed to tear your eyes away from his intense gaze.

Silence settled between the two of you. There was never a need for constant chatter with him. His presence was enough, as was yours for him. Despite this comfortability you felt around Wally, shy butterflies danced around in your belly as your thoughts drifted.

You were alone with the person you had feelings for, afterall.

As you continued to look above into the beyond, a realization crossed your mind.

"You know, Wally..."

"Hmm?"

"Your eyes remind me of the night sky," you told him, your gaze meeting his. You turned onto your side, propping your head the same way he had his, staring into his dark orbs.

"Such a deep blue... light reflects so beautifully off them, looks just like the stars," you mumbled, hand propping against the ground instead, pushing yourself higher to look down at him. The light hit his eyes better, at this angle.

"They're entrancing,"

"As are you, neighbour," he watched you attentively, trying to read you. "I feel bad for reusing your compliments, but ain’t it ever the truth," he sighed softly, a look of adoration on his features. Your cheeks warmed. 

“You’re absolutely mesmerizing, you pull me in with no effort at all. I’m so incredibly drawn to your beauty, and always wish to have you around,” he continued. Has anyone else spoken such kind words to you?

“In all honesty, the reason why I brought you out here is because sometimes, I just want to be alone with you,” he confessed.

Your cheeks bloomed with heat, eyes widened in surprise. Despite your wishes that he meant it on a deeper level than just friends, that wasn't the case, was it?

He was just being nice.

He was always nice to everyone.

You were looking too deep into it again…

“Neighbour?” He mumbled gently, the feeling of his hand on your cheek pulling you from your trance.

“Oh.”

You hadn’t realized how close you two had become…

You stared at him, and he stared at you.

You weren't sure how long you both stayed quiet, but before you knew it, you were trying to speak at the same time.

“... listen–”

“Can I–”

“Hey!” 

You jolted in surprise with a sharp inhale, Wally's face contorting into one of shock. His hand retracted from your cheek, attention moving to the disturbance. Your torso twisted to see Julie strutting down the way toward you, Frank trying to catch up behind her.

“There you two are!” She beamed. “Come on, we were just about to– what’s wrong with him?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. Looking next to you, you were met with the sight of Wally laid flat on his back, blankly staring into the sky as if his soul had been sucked out of him.

“You did go on and scare the crud out of them, Julie, so cut him some slack,” Frank scolded, “Can’t anyone take a hint in this town, though?” He complained. Your brows twitched.

“I mean, you couldn't despite all of Eddie’s letters to you?” You deflected with a grin.

“You of all people have no right to– grrr!” Frank stomped his foot in frustration, head spinning. “Never mind that! Julie was quite adamant to come look for you guys for a game we were about to play,” He puffed out a breath, rubbing at his brow. 

“Right!” Julie recalled, taking you by the hands and tugging you up. “Upsy-daisy! Let’s not keep the others waiting! You two did that for long enough already,” she teased, pulling you along. 

“Why were you guys out here, anyways?” she questioned as you glanced over your shoulder at Frank and Wally.

“Uh,” you mumbled, shaking away your thoughts and looking back ahead. “Just came for a breath of fresh air. Lost track of time, I suppose,” you smiled sheepishly at her.

What had Wally been about to say, though?

What had you been about to let yourself say..?

…

“I was so close…” Wally smiled sadly, sprawled out on the pavement in despair, tears of frustration threatening to escape his eyes.

“I tried to stop her,” Frank released an exasperated sigh, offering his hand to his gloomy friend. “Once she realized you two weren't there, she was persistent on coming to grab you,”

“So close…” Wally repeated, holding his hand up in a pinching gesture for emphasis, barely an inch of space between the tips of his fingers.

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t know how frustrated I am, too. Now, come on,” he rolled his eyes, managing Wally up off the ground and starting towards the house. Though slumped and slow, Wally followed along.

“So close…”

howdyyy! I hope you enjoyed! B)

here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

alas, thank you for reading! likes and reblogs are very appreciated, gimme my dopamine!!!

alt title: cockblock julie (/j lol)

Posted Friday, April 28, 2023 at 10:12 AM

[meaningofaeons]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ strength in weakness

⊹ character(s) - gojo satoru ⊹ word count - 891 ⊹ notes - fem!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, silliness, spoilers for s2e5/hidden inventory arc (premature death), reader is a teacher at jujutsu high + a sorcerer ofc, kinda ocxcanon coded im sorry, this is so rushed and dumb and AUUUGHHHH

I....... I caved (ﾐዎ ﻌ ዎﾐ) this man does so many things to me and after seeing the last frame in the ep where his eyes looked a lil red (im including a pic at the end.) I had to write this up. also im so sorry this is like 110% me just turning my oc x gojo into a drabble lmfao LOVE YALL

"Gojo-sensei!"

"Ah, he's awake!"

"Hey, that's one of those expensive chairs, isn't it?!"

"Please don't fall asleep after summoning all of us here."

You stood idly by as your students pestered Satoru, arms crossed firmly in front of your chest. The man only smirked a bit, lifting his blindfold just enough to give Megumi a look.

In the split second before he pulled it back down, you caught sight of his eye, and faltered.

"Ha!"

"Oi, come on! My turn next!"

Yuji's bickering and Nobara's victorious, haughty laughter faded into background fuzz as you gazed after the special grade sorcerer, Megumi raising a brow at him.

"What're you smiling about?"

"Oh, nothing."

The white-haired man turned his head, and you could tell that even beneath that blindfold, he was staring straight at you.

"Ohhh~... Y/N came along too, huh?"

"L/N-sensei was with us when we remembered you had asked us to come by. She just walked us over."

"Aw, not here to see me, huh?"

You sighed, a bit of sarcasm leaking into your voice.

"As loathe as I am to hurt your delicate feelings, Satoru, I just walked the kids over."

Megumi gave his teacher serious side eye before responding. "I don't think anyone would willingly go to see you without being prompted to."

"Ouch."

You paused for a moment as Satoru turned around again, leaning down and beckoning the dark-haired student over. He listened politely to your words, and though he gave you an odd look, he walked over to Nobara and Yuji nonetheless.

"You two, let's wait outside for a bit."

"Huh?! But Kugisaki hasn't let me sit yet!"

"You can sit in the chair later. Gojo-sensei doesn't mind."

"I'll just take it from Itadori again!"

"Why, you—!"

The two eventually barreled out the door, Megumi giving you a small nod before sliding it shut behind himself. Satoru plopped himself back into his seat at that, his easy smile still ever-present.

"So you did come to see me."

"Not really," you murmured casually, earning an overdramatic, shocked gasp from the man. However, he calmed the theatrics upon the sound of your gentle footfalls, feeling your shadow fall over his seated form. "Just thought of something."

Your fingers brushed over the edges of his blindfold before you could stop yourself, but Satoru only shrugged, the barest hint of hesitation seeping into his light tone.

"Go for it."

You pushed the material up just far enough to see his eye once more, your thumb brushing over the reddened flesh beneath it. Slightly puffy, almost as if...

Right. It was around this time of year.

You recalled the time of your youth perhaps just as vividly as Satoru did, but you never were quite as close with Suguru as he was. So no matter how much you remembered, it couldn't compare to what he had seen.

"I'm starting to think you've got some less-than-professional feelings for me, L/N-sensei, what with this tender touch. Are you giving me special treatment?"

"Be serious for a moment," you scoffed, but your hand did not recoil. It made Satoru's smirk drop, even if only a bit.

Your voice was far gentler than he'd ever heard it before.

"How are you feeling?"

Perhaps it was an obvious question to ask, one with an obvious answer—regardless of how he truly felt, Satoru's answer would always be something placating, something lighthearted and in jest.

But this time, he only glanced away, blindfold still pushed up.

"Well, it was just a dream."

You nodded, hand falling away from his face. Before it could fall to your side, however, the man sitting beside you reached out, taking it gingerly.

You didn't ask any further. Prodding the issue would lead nowhere.

But your hand squeezed his just slightly, just enough for him to feel your flesh, warm and alive.

You were here. That's really all he needed in this moment of vulnerability.

"I didn't take you for the comforting type."

Your eyebrow twitched as he slipped back into that teasing lilt of his.

"I can comfort you with a nice slap to the face, if you'd prefer it."

"Not like you could touch me, anyhow~."

"You little—"

Before you could even react, Satoru had scampered to the door, slamming it open and wrapping an arm around Yuji and Megumi's shoulders, spouting some nonsense about missing his beloved students.

"What took you so long, Sensei?" Yuji asked, face scrunching as the white-haired man ruffled his hair.

"Don't you know anything, Itadori? He and L/N-sensei were in there alone, so obviously..."

Nobara's words devolved into hushed whispers as she spotted you in the corner of her eye, and you shot Satoru a warning glance as he leaned back to get a look at you.

You were sure that, in the several years you'd known one another, the man would have long since been able to recognize your eyes clearly saying, 'Don't feed a word into this, or I'll pummel you to death.'

Alas...

"Exactly right, Kugisaki! Full marks!"

"Whaaat?! Seriously?! Sensei, you and L/N-sen—"

"Don't feed them nonsense, you ingrate!" you shouted at once, chasing after a very unrepentant Satoru as he skipped around the courtyard. Megumi only grumbled out a sigh.

"So we all agree something's going on, ri—"

"Enough, Kugisaki, let's just go."

SEE WHATD I SAY!!!! HIS EYES!!!! I love you forver. .... please dont cry .................

[guppybibi]

Ditzy Princess

𖦹 pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime x fem!reader

𖦹 word count: 2019

𖦹 content: mild cursing, childhood friends to lovers (eventually..) , denial, she fell first but he fell harder, reader is oikawa’s little sister, reader’s brain is a lil empty, but she's a strong woman nonetheless!!

𖦹notes: i have so many wips..but hajime my Filipino king AUGHH (im gaslighting myself shh)

✧. ┊    Part 1

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ

Being Oikawa Tooru’s little sister meant that you were equally as insufferable as him, debatably even more than him according to Iwaizumi. Iwa wouldn't go as far to say he disliked you, despite you being 2 years younger than Oikawa, the three of you still grew up together and developed a pretty strong bond. Oikawa had his moments, being the seemingly arrogant and egotistical person he is. Iwa was aware Tooru had some issues with his self esteem and was helping him in his own way. But in your case, nothing was backing you up. You really were just a crybaby diva, wailing as her big brother comes to save her. It really didn't start off so bad, after all you were a child who needed guidance and protection. He expected you to just grow out of it, news flash—you didn't.

Now that you're in your first year in Seijoh, he couldn't avoid you at all no matter how hard he tried. Being a headache must be in the genes, I guess. But you weren't worth putting up with, so he just started distancing himself away from you. Sure, sometimes you would barge into the gym, interrupting their practice to go to your doting brother. Which pissed him off, obviously. Though it was hard to tell since he always had a scowl on his face no matter the situation. Oh and by sometimes, he means every single day–unless you were absent or something.

Unfortunately for him, Oikawa wasn’t present today due to getting a nasty cold. Normally he’d make fun of Oikawa, along with the rest of the Seijoh four but he remembers that you’re present and that he would be your temporary savior while your brother is gone. It didn’t help that today in particular was a pretty stressful one, and as if the Gods above cursed him, a bunch of assholes picked on you for being the ‘uglier’ sibling. A bunch of envious little liars.

Naturally, it was your first instinct to go to annoy him. Your muffled cries could already be heard before you've even entered the gym, which made Hajime groan in annoyance as he muttered a random curse under his breath. And as if on cue, the metal door of the gym slides open; unveiling a very much messed up you.

Your mascara all smudged across your pretty face, fat tears staining it. Your subtly pink lips all wobbly as you make your way to Iwaizumi, knowing your brother wasn't here. At this point, this was basically a daily routine for the team, they didn't complain though. You coming in here and taking their captain and or ace meant they had an opportunity to take a break.

“ ‘Zumi! T-they were being so mean to me again, I didn't do anything wrong!” You cry out as you approach the ace with a pout on your face. ‘Pathetic..’ He thinks to himself, you were more than capable enough to defend yourself. (Verbally, at least. Physically is a different story.) “It's not my fault I don't look exactly like Oikawa! And I can't do anything about it, why pick on me for it?!” You continue, wiping away a tear from your glossy eyes.

Hajime couldn't even say anything in response, this wasn't the first time you came to him after someone bullied you for whatever reason. It was a sad thing to happen to you, but did you really have to go to him or your big brother every single time? What if they're not there for you? What will you do then? Still his good conscience couldn't just leave you sobbing like that, your doting brother wouldn't be happy about it.

Placing a rough calloused hand on your trembling shoulder, as an attempt to comfort you he starts speaking. “And what did you say to them after?” He asks, it was a completely normal question, you knew that. But you were used to just..constant coddling, no other questions asked–just instantly tending to you. “I..Nothing? I mean, maybe what they're saying is true..it still hurts though..” You reply, earning a nod from your older brother's friend. You had a point there, but you should still stick up for yourself! You had to learn, plus he didn't want to keep playing as your knight in shining armor when the two of you are pushing your thirties.

“Did you want to say something back to them?” He questions, raising a brow. You could be doing this for shits and giggles for all he knows, maybe this was a plan you and Oikawa had or something. “Well um, kind of?..” Even that answer somehow made sense, coming from a ditz like you–he didn't really expect much. “So can you or can you not defend yourself?” He asked yet again with a gruff voice, watching intently as he saw you shake your head. Okay, cool. You aren't doing this just to piss him off, that's a start.

“I could teach you, if you want to.” You blink once, twice. “Teach me how to..fight for myself?” You never considered it, you were just used to your big brother being there for you. No matter how serious or stupid it was, he’d be there in a flash. He nodded, crossing his arms as you thought about it. Your brother wouldn't always be here, today was proof of it. The same goes for Hajime, who knows where he's going after high school?

“I..think that’ll be nice actually.” And those were the words that started your tutoring sessions. You were incredibly nervous the first few times, like the personification of an earthquake. You did soon manage to get the hang of it, being able to defend yourself against your bullies unless it was really necessary for your brother and or him to step in.

To be honest, Oikawa was pretty opposed to the idea at first. Saying to his best friend that teaching her all of this ‘nonsense’ wasn't needed since he’ll always be there for her anyway. (What Oikawa didn't know is that Iwa was doing future him a favor, I mean–he didn't know he was going to Argentina!)

And so ‘Operation: Teach Y/N How to Defend Herself’ was successful. It had been like years ago at this point, barely remembered by you two like some distant memory. You didn't piss him off that much anymore, though he did have little to no contact with you; only getting updates through Oikawa.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ

When he went to Irvine, California for personal matters he was aware of you being there as well since you went to visit and stayed at your grandparents. The chances of you two meeting were slim but fate had to play its part too! Now the both of you were sitting side by side, having a cup of ice cream as you catched up on your lives.

He told you about the meeting he just had with Takashi, some stuff about sports science and his personal life and whatnot. While you told him about life here in the States, being taken care of by your overbearing grandparents and stuff. You were a lot more mature than what Hajime had remembered, still a scatterbrain though. Though something comes up, leaving Hajime at some random bench while he taps away on his phone after you exchanged him your number. Saving it and putting in ‘Puny Princess’, it was stupid–he knew it was as he chuckled to himself.

No matter how fully grown you are, you’ll always be that spoiled little brat who seeks her dear knight in shining armor's protection.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ

He was flying back to Japan soon, and he wanted nothing more but to cancel his flight and stay here–with you. Highschooler Iwaizumi would be laughing his ass off right now, any chance to get away from you was a blessing. He’d get on that plane like he's being chased by the police. He thought about it a lot, was it because you were less of a pain in the ass? Nope, that couldn't be the case because you still were. Sure, you didn't exactly need Prince Charming anymore which made you considerably much more bearable but it felt like there was something more to it. Why won’t life just tell him instead of forcing him to dig through a bunch of dirt in his mind?

Maybe he simply got used to being around you, to be fair–he’s been with you through thick and thin after all. Yup, that's what it was. No need to manually crank the gears in his brain anymore, this was totally it. Would he admit he had a teensy weensy little crush on you when you two were kids? God no, and that doesn't matter! I mean, that was like a decade ago–he doubts that mattered right now in any shape or form.

Well the first stage of grief was denial, he’ll work his way up. You, on the other hand, have fully accepted this stupid happy crush you got on Iwaizumi. Even your big brother knew about it, well you were pretty much an open book. Hey, your brother’s words–not mine. The way your cherubic cheeks would heat up when Hajime helped you up when you got yourself stuck in the mud, it was painstakingly obvious that you had liked him ever since.

You and your big brother had a heart to heart talk about back in middle school actually, it sits there playing constantly at the back of your mind.

It was midnight and Oikawa had come home late, you noticed he had been practicing overtime these days which worried you quite a bit but you knew Hajime was there to keep him grounded. So that's how the two of you ended up at 1AM, your brother silently eating his late cold dinner while you accompanied him.

“Did ‘Zumi practice late with you..?” You questioned, breaking the growing silence in the room. In response, he nodded and let out a dry chuckle. “Mhm, you haven't spoken a word since I got home and when you decide to speak it's about Iwa-chan? Do you not care about your dear big brother anymore?” He asks, dramatically feigning hurt as he places a hand on his chest.

He didn't miss how your lips went and formed a thin line, trying your best not to crack a smile. “Cmon, don't lie to your big brother–you like Iwa, don't you?” He teases, trying to get it out of you like he's sipping the very last drop out of the milk carton. “Maybe just a little..” You mumble, finding it just a little bit embarrassing that out of all the fish in the never ending sea, you manage to have feelings for your brother's best friend. “Hm..well I guess if you were to pick someone to marry I’d honestly prefer Iwa y’know?” You almost choke on your own spit upon hearing his words, blushing furiously. “E-eh?! Marry?! It's too early for that!” You exclaim, while your brother starts laughing like a hyena.

His words were very much true though, he trusted Iwa–so much so that if he had the chance to pick the person you’ll marry, he'd choose Hajime with no hesitation.

You roll around in your soft bed, unable to sleep as Iwaizumi’s face keeps flashing in your mind like a broken record. Wanting nothing more than to scream into your pillow, but your grandparents sleeping soundly in the other room prevented you from doing so. You wondered if you would ever go back to Japan, it seemed like your brother wouldn't after hearing him recently renounce his citizenship but it's not like you were going to follow in his footsteps. You've never felt this homesick before, stupid Iwaizumi–it's his fault for coming here unannounced. You thought your delicate heart moved on from this childish crush of yours after not seeing him in a couple of years, looks like it bounced back after meeting up with him again though..

Well, at least you had some form of communication with him after you gave him your number. That was temporarily enough for you.

[darlinguistics]

'its just IMPOSSIBLE to not be addicted to your phone nowadays its UNREALISTIC-'

heres some advice to being less chronically online. for gen z (and younger??) who dont even know how to start thinking about it and have only heard shitty advice from older adults who just genuinely do not get it, from a fellow gen z and my experiences so far.

*these are personal and may not all 100% resonate but its still good prompting to start thinking about things! PLEASE feel free to add your own stories/advice in the notes! support your fellow humans, dont gatekeep what youve learned, lets have these conversations! and no negativity/pessimism please <3

first thing is to make it a less scary thought, a more concrete idea and not a hypothetical. it doesnt have to be all-or-nothing, cold turkey, a huge announcement and a fundamental shift in your personality. the internet will be in your life for the rest of your life, this is an ongoing relationship you are trying to make healthier thats all! and it takes one step at a time and some self-compassion, but a true effort nonetheless. 'dont you think thats a bit too serious-' if youre my age you quite literally grew up and developed online, it is literally part of your psyche the way your childhood is, it IS serious, you deserve to treat it seriously.

dont save your login info/dont stay logged in for social media accounts, having to manually log in when you want to go on like youre on some elementary school chrome book is a really healthy and clear boundary to have between being logged off and logged on.

-> bigger challenge - uninstall it on your phone in general, only log on on your laptop/pc if applicable for you!

if youre motivated to, try to work on your posture too. i only say that because most of our bad posture is at least partially related to being on our phones a lot, and when i started wanting to fix my posture, completely separately and unrelated from trying to break my phone addiction, it made it easier to lose interest in my phone since i didnt want to ruin my progress with my posture. it made me start to have a mindset like 'well if you cant do this on your phone with good posture then dont do it' and 'if youre on your phone so long your posture starts to cave in, youve probably spent too long on your phone anyway'

listen to music more. its easier for me to kinda write off my phone and do other things if i just open music or a podcast or long youtube video on it. i know we all love long video essays, but i recommend music more specifically for me at least because im less inclined to pause music or scroll while listening to it for some reason? whereas using a show or video or podcast for white noise, im way more likely to also be scrolling on my phone and that is my activity lol. music for some reason i dont want to interrupt and instead of being on my phone i can clean or do something productive on my computer etc

this one is sooo hard but try to fall asleep with some distance between you and your phone, even just a couple feet. mine stays on the desk next to my bed which isnt that far but its better than on bed like it used to be. when you wake up you probably wont feel like reaching for it right away if its far and even better if you have to get up for it because then at least you stand and move your body first thing instead of looking at your phone first thing. and try to get more and more of your morning routine done before touching your phone over time.

-> for me, i started by just trying to at least wake up a bit in bed before touching it, then stand up before touching it, then stand and stretch, then going to the bathroom first, making coffee first, feeding the cat first, etc. its surprisingly helpful to have a specific chore/task in mind that is The requirement so that everytime you do it you get a lil dopamine rush for unlocking your phone from yourself lmao. when the weather was nice i used to make my Requirement being outside first before going on it and i LOVED that. esp as it got easier and i started doing more and more before going on it and finally walking outside with coffee and my phone felt like such a pleasant little reward.

find a hobby that uses your hands. example: i really need to get back into knitting because when i did it regularly so much time that wouldve been on my phone was spent knitting with music/podcasts/shows/(even online lectures! when i felt productive lol) playing. its the same amount of physical relaxing - barely moving lol - but uses a longer attention span and a much better dopamine hit than scrolling, i literally MADE things.

-> you might be thinking, 'but mindless knitting isnt better than mindless scrolling is it?' but that mindless feeling on your phone is just that, mindless. the mindless feeling you get when doing something like knitting is actually closer to a flow state, which is actually incredibly good for you, like a fulfilling nutritious meal as opposed to 'empty calories' or whatever

get a widget for your homescreen that shows your screen time. i have one and of course it doesnt always stop me but seeing that time go up all day the more i use it and the pride of keeping it low is really helpful

practice grounding. in general.

spend more time on anonymous activities and have more privacy and less attachment with your 'persona' - what i mean by that is, i consider things like scrolling through tumblr (for me personally!) to be relatively harmless because i dont try to like,, brand myself here. if youre a tumblr regular you know the jokes - 0 follows, 0 notes, screaming to the void, moots you dont talk to, blorbo pfp and urls, fake names everywhere, and we're having fun! basically targeting the 'everyone is famous now' thing with this one - embrace being a nobody with no personal stakes here

-> personally ive never kept up with having social media accounts that are actually just, me irl - like a facebook or main instagram, like a locals account yknow? but i think it goes for that too - stop spending so much time trying to further personalize your online presence in the hopes of it representing you perfectly - because it never will, and it shouldnt, and you shouldnt aspire for that. your social media presence is lighthearted and incredibly surface-level, treat it like that! thats not me bashing social media either, having that mindset will make it more enjoyable bc youll be using it as it should be used!

do following/followers or camera roll/files or app purges. this is also a soft launch type of way to practice easing into a better mindset. aside from just literally getting rid of junk, the process of trying to judge whether or not you need something is good practice in mindfulness! even if you dont delete everything you feel like you maybe should, thats fine, youll do other purges in the future too. eventually youll get better at parting with things and realizing when things that feel good in a moment are actually bad for you. and it forces you to regularly check in on your more long-lasting parasocial relationships online and how theyre serving you or not

speaking of parasocial - for actual friends, if theyre irl, think about how much you interact with them online vs in person and why you think that is and how it affects you. maybe youll wanna see them more irl if possible (i promise its better for your friendship), maybe youll realize you dont need to keep tabs on them anymore (old high school acquaintances lookin at you). for celebrities and fandom things - try to think about the bare minimum content from them you could do with. you dont have to unstan all your faves and stop enjoying things - but do you need their notifications on? if you have designated fan accounts, are they still a source of joy or of stress? do you need them on all the platforms or just one or two? do you need to have all that saved content of them? are there aspects of this that you love that could be found elsewhere, maybe even offline? (again you dont have to stay one way forever, just encouraging checking in with yourself!)

if youre of the genre of online where you just cant help yourself from getting involved in big discussions or discourse and arguments - i recommend journaling when you get upset by something online, articulating your feelings without the idea of someone ever reading it and without the goal of 'winning' or being the most correct and logical or even the most sympathetic and morally good. take away every audience aspect of it. what is this really about for you, and why would strangers online deserve to hear your personal well-thought out opinions? why would your thoughts deserve to be simplified and misconstrued and underappreciated the way they would be in this discussion? is there even an outcome to this where you feel truly satisfied? are their people who are more worthy of hearing your thoughts who arent part of this audience? is this a conversation that is best held online where so much communicative nuance is inevitably sacrificed?

in the end these are all just practices in remembering how in control you are. and that goes for if any of these are scary or too difficult sounding too! these all become less scary if you remember that as soon as anything becomes too uncomfortable or painful, you have all the power to stop doing it, make a change, and try again later. so much of advice for quitting bad habits can be intimidating because the pressure and the shame that would come from failing scares you out of the possible benefits of trying - just go ahead and kill that shame from the jump. of course youre going to fail! you are going to have setbacks! thats part of it! you have agency in this, always. the internet is not inherently or completely evil nor good. build trust in yourself to make the calls on when it is serving you and when it isnt on a case-by-case basis, and then give yourself permission to learn through trial and error.

and remember you are worth all of this effort. i believe in us <3

[skitariiposting]

Skit's Mini Painting Journey Pt. 3

The Admech one.

C'mon, you all saw this one coming.

Back when I was painting my nurgles purple, I wanted to do a similar color scheme for my Admech army. I slowly moved away from it however, as I didn't quite like the way it turned out. The green and purple look took to Nurgle well, but purple Admech on desert planets didn't make a whole lot of sense. Didn't stop me from trying though, and while they certainly didn't look bad, I'm glad I didn't stick with it.

The Mars Pattern Family

This little fella may look familiar! Here was my first attempt at a more traditional mars pattern skit, and a jawa-esque one to boot! This was a kitbash of a proper galvanic rifle and backpack being added to The Makers Cult's Lil' Recruit.

I mean, Jawa admech is so amazing, but I had to have my little guy properly equipped!

Continuing the Mars linage is a technopriest and engiseer, both TMC printed minis. I love the way these two look. The face-shield on the technopriest looks amazing, and I'm incredibly proud of the reflection on it. The OSL on the hand isn't very visible in the picture, but it also looks really good.

This Thallax bot was supposed to be a Kastellan Bot for @elnubnub, however I got the two mixed up and picked the smaller one. I'm going to eventually remedy that, but he still looks good nonetheless.

This is by and large one of my best pieces in my opinion. Back when @cannibalcaprine had a bird face, this model was more applicable. Dominus Hera has so much soul and time put into her I don't know if I'll ever be able to replicate the state of mind I was in that let me get this mini to look this good. The cloth effects are fantastic, the OSL from the gun is fantastic, the molten axe is fantastic, the color choices and layout is fantastic, the cables are fantastic; I don't know who painted this mini, but it certainly wasn't me. It couldn't have been.

And the most important member of the Mars Pattern Family, the fan favorite: Goober. A kitbash gone wrong gone right. A broken mini finally becoming whole. The legend himself. What more is there to say?

Finally: The Submechanicum

Penelope, the Ocean Queen. My first model I painted for the Submechanicus. I'd love to say that this is my magnum opus, considering I made a whole video about her and everything...

However, I must rip the band aid off and say that this is the first version of Penelope...

Because what immediately followed her was this beast. This is the Krabaphron, another contender for one of my best models. This sucker was so genre defining, that it set a new standard for the rest of my Submechanicus army and would cause me to re-do my color-scheme and paint job planning going forward.

I based all of my future Submechanicus models off of it, using it as a template. The Skits and Techpriest both got the same treatment and I've got to say, I'm in love with the way it looks. I've continued using this style so far and I haven't had to make many modifications.

As such, Penelope... didn't quite fit the bill anymore. She stood out from the rest of the models.

So... after a livestream of planning and base layering...

She was finally given the paint job she deserved.

And that's just were our story begins fair traveler... With the rise of the Depth Guard, a proper protector of the Submechanicus will be needed to combat the forces of Nurgle... And coming late April, there will be such a machine surfacing, with a video to present it.

Of course, this is quite an older photo. It's far more painted than that. I've teased photos of it so far, however I'm saving the proper display of it for the video, so be on the look out if you want to see the completed product!

And that's about it! Hope you've enjoyed this little walk down memory lane and gallery of my mini painting endeavors! I'll be making a website for easier viewing once I've gone through and gotten some more professional looking pictures done. Thank you for reading and viewing!

-Jerry