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aerialsquid · 1 year ago

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FFXIVWrite Day 10: Extra Credit

Old man yaoi continues.

Large bay windows at the back of the room and a crystal lamp hanging from the ceiling were the only sources of light for the captain's cabin. Its earlier owner had been presumably dragged off the brig after he'd signed his ship over to Novv - there was a tiny splotch of blood on the floor, just enough that would make a man rethink his principles. In the middle of the cabin sat a large mahogany table, finely carved at its legs, and several books of accounts were strewn across it. Off to one side, a bed built into the ship's wall was covered in bright silk pillows and a quilt.

The only other occupant of the room stood silhouetted by the light from the windows. He was wearing what were probably the captain's spare clothes, since he'd come aboard in his underthings - linen trousers were cinched tight to his waist and ballooned outward from his legs, and the shirt hung large and loose enough to be a maiden's frock. The glinting topaz of his eyes said 'cornered animal waiting to strike'.

"Novv says y'wanted to thank me, or some shite like that?" The Limsan drawl was strong in his voice. Almost too strong.

"Yes–"

"Well, it weren't done for your sake. It was just good business practice."

Edmont's eyes darted down the man's body, across the copper skin marred by scars and tattoos. The sun, the thirst, the fear, all of it seemed to be falling on him at once and he was struggling to make his brain work.

"That tattoo of yours," he said, seizing upon the first matter to hand. "The one with the circle surrounded by flames. There was a gentleman at the resort who had that same marking, he said he'd earned it fighting during the Calamity. You were there?"

The man snorted. "Aye, I was there. I fought at Carteneau Flats, holding the line until the last moment. Even had to carry off one of my fellow pirates because she couldn't take the time to stop slitting throats even after Merlweyb called for a retreat. Our people fought harder than any other there. Your people on the other hand, couldn't be arsed."

"True. And we paid the price for it, did we not? The icy hand of Halone clamping down upon the whole of Coerthas, crushing it in her grip in eternal winter as punishment for our cowardice."

"As if I give a damn what Halone thinks." The man looked down to rummage in the desk's drawer, pulling forth a green glass bottle and a loose tin cup. He poured a glass of dark liquid for himself, offering nothing to Edmont.

"While we're on the subject of tattoos, I'd like to have you cast your eyes over this one." He pulled up the loose sleeve as he raised the cup up to his lips, showing a dark image on the underside of his forearm. The faded ink was crude and Edmont had to squint to realize it was a clumsy imitation of a Sahagin head.

"Got that one for the first time I spilled fishback blood, long before I made captain. This strip of skin was one of the prices Novv requested for his services - not that I'm much attached to it, but once we're finished here I'll be much less attached to it." He raised his cup in a mocking salute and downed it in two gulps. "In case you were thinking old Novv was a soft touch."

"All the more reason to thank you personally, for such a sacrifice," Edmont said quietly, his eyes watching the weathered tattoo.

The cup slammed down on the tabletop. "Let's stop playing games, Edmont. You know who I am, and I know you know it."

Edmont's hand found the armrest of a nearby chair, and carefully settled himself into it. He could feel exhaustion coming up at him like a wave up the shore, and battled it back down. "Carvellain de Durendaire," he said quietly. "Heir by blood to the head of House Durendaire, and lost these past twenty summers."

"It's 'de Gorgagne', now," Carvellain said, pouring himself another shot from the bottle.

"Gorgagne?"

Carvellain chuckled. "My old bodyguard. The one who was supposed to be nannying me the day I jumped ship. I was fourteen, it was the first name I could think of."

"You know your father stripped him of his position for losing you. He left the knighthood entirely."

"Perhaps he should have kept a better watch on his charges, then." Carvellain stared into the contents of the cup, swirling it about. He was clenching the sides so hard they were nearly starting to dent.

"I'm not going back. I want that known from the start, you hear? You can keep your Fury and your inheritance and your bloody cold, drafty church. I've worked too swiving hard and built too damn much to let some stuffy old man I've got the bad luck to be kin to drag me away from it. And if he's getting ideas about it I'll put him over the side and see how Halone fares against every sea monster the Navigator has in her bestiary."

#ffxivwrite2023

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tamakissimp · 4 years ago

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D.T/T.A- sharing is caring

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: you didn’t expect your night to end a strangers bedroom with not one, but two hot men. But who are you to complain? 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: alcohol, mention of weed, griding? kissing 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2674 𝕒/𝕟: did I already post this? yes. did I delete it cuz I hated it? also yes. anyways, @uhhh-i-like-yaoi here u fucking

Truth be told, you didn't know what to expect when Mirio dragged you along to this party. All you wanted to do was lay in your bed and fall asleep but here you were, dressed in a way too tight outfit dancing along to shitty music.

The six shots you took before stumbling over to the dancefloor finally start to kick in. The soft buzz of alcohol flowing through your veins as you let your body move. Your hips sway along to the music while your hands run up and down your body.

It was probably the number of lustful gazes you got in this outfit but your confidence was skyrocketing. You open your eyes slightly as you gaze over the dancing crowd. Most people are grinding against each other like animals in heat, though one guy is standing stiffly amidst the crowd.

His dark eyes lock with yours. A smirk plasters itself on your lips as you curl your fingers in a 'come hither' motion. The guy's cheeks burn into a bright red as he takes quick strides towards you.

Once he's close enough, you wrap your arms around his neck and press his body against yours. "Hey, handsome," you say. His body stiffens as he looks down at you.

"Wanna dance with me?" you ask. He quickly nods as awkwardly places his hands on your hips. You move one hand from his neck to his ears, fingers carefully running over one of the pointy tips.

A whiney moan falls from his lips as he instinctively grabs onto your hips tighter. "I'm Tamaki," he says. His deep voice sends heat to pool between your legs.

"I'm Y/n," you say before turning around. He moans as you press your ass against his crotch. You can feel the muscles of his chest and abs against your back as you press yourself against him.

One of his hands travels down to press your hips against his while the other moves to caress your neck. His hips start to move against you, swaying in sync with yours.

You two stay like that for a while, grinding against each other to the beat of the songs playing. Your lustful dancing gets interrupted when a raven-haired man moves to dance in front of you.

Scarred skin adorned his face multiple piercings glow under the multi-coloured light. Three on his nouse and two on his bottom lip. His rough appearance makes you desperately want to press yourself against him, though he beats you to it.

He moves to press his hips against yours, his face moving to press itself into the crook of your neck. Burning lips press desperate kisses against your skin. His teeth drag themselves over your neck, earning whiney moans from you.

Tamaki groans with jealousy. You were dancing with him first, why is this guy suddenly getting all your attention? He moves to kiss the other side of your neck.

You feel like your on cloud nine as both men sandwich you between them. Your hips rut against Tamako's while your hands caress the other men.

"I'm Dabi," he says. Good, so he has a name. You moan out his name as he sucks on your neck. You'll probably have some hickeys tomorrow but there's nothing a good old turtleneck won't cover.

The three of you get lost in the music, swaying and grinding against each other. The alcohol takes its full effect as your mind become fuzzy and warm. Movements blur together as all you can focus on become the feeling of both Tamaki's and Dabi's bodies pressed against yours.

Their hands roam over your body, grabbing and squeezing any flesh they can. You probably shouldn't be dancing like this with strangers. But you knew their names, they aren't strangers anymore, right?

You push your doubtful thoughts to the side as you press your ass against Tamaki. He groans into your ears and he lets his head rest in the crook of your neck. You look at Dabi with half-lidded eyes.

Mischief glints in his eyes before he reaches a hand out to cup your face. He pulls you towards him and captures your lips with his. The roughness of his lower lip compared to his pillowy upper one makes you moan into his mouth.

His tongue glides over your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You place another sloppy kiss against his rough lips before letting your parts slightly. Dabi quickly pushes his tongue in, exploring your mouth.

You groan at his taste. Smokey yet fresh, like someone set a field full of mint ablaze. Tamaki pulls away from you slightly to enjoy the sight in front of him.

Dabi's hungry hands running over your body and your needing whines. It almost feels wrong to watch you two. Tamaki pushes himself over the edge and starts to place wet kisses onto your neck. You moan at the feeling of his teeth scraping against your skin. He leaves hickey after hickey, not caring about who might see them.

Ecstasy runs through your veins. Your nerves are tingling at the touch of the two men. You're pretty sure you've died and gone to heaven, that's the only explanation for this divine feeling.

"Do-Do you want to get-fuck. Get out of here?" Tamaki says loud enough for both you and Dabi to hear. "M-My place is just around the corner.".

You pull away from Dabi, letting your head rest against Tamaki's chest instead. Nodding against him, you looking at Dabi. Lust clouds his azure as he licks his lips sinfully. "God, yes," he growls. Tamaki locks his hand with yours while the other rests on Dabi's shoulder. He drags both of you out of the dancing crowd. Sweaty bodies bump into yours though you can't bring yourself to care.

You don't even register that you've left the party until the old night air hits your skin. Tamaki wraps his arm around your waist as he looks behind him for Dabi.

The raven-haired is fishing a carton of cigarettes out of his pocket. Tamaki sends him a sharp look though he only shrugs at it. He places a cigarette between his lips before taking lazy strides towards the two of you.

"Want one too, hotty?" he asks as he holds the carton out for you. You reach out to grab one but Tamaki slaps your hand away.

"Don't," he says lowly. His growly voice sends heat through your body. "I don't need you two to smell like smoke.".

Dabi rolls his eyes before stuffing the cigarette that was dangling from his lips back where it belonged. "You're no fun," he groans.

Tamaki simply shrugs before starting to walk towards his apartment. While he still has his arm around you, Dabi hand creeps down to rest in right against your ass. He gives it a squeeze earning a squeal from you and a chuckle from him.

You three remain relatively quiet for the rest of the walk. You bask in the fogginess the alcohol has left in your mind. A droopy smile adorns your lips and your steps are slightly wobbly, though you have Dabi and Tamaki to help you walk straight.

It's only now that you see the flush on Tamaki's skin and the haze in his eyes. He clearly had his fair share of drinks himself. And even though Dabi seems sober, the sticky sweet smell of weed wafting of him tells you differently.

Tamaki suddenly comes to a halt. He unwraps his arm from you and starts to fish his keys out of his pocket. Dabi takes this opportunity to smoothly press you against the wall. The cold bricks hit your burning skin.

His breath fans over your face. You try to push your lips against his but he just pulls away with a teasing grin. "Come on," Tamaki says as he holds the door open for the two of you.

You stumble into the building. The hot air circulating through the house is a stark difference from that of the cold night. "Up the stairs," Tamaki says with slurred words.

The three of you stumble of the steep staircase, praying to God that none of you trip and fall. You giggle to yourself as you think about how badly this situation can go. You, drunk off your ass in some strangers home.

Your worries get silenced when you see some of Tamaki's roommates walking around the house. The fact that there are others around in case the two men have malicious intents makes your muscles relax.

That's when you spot a familiar blond mop of hair. "Mirio?" you call out. Your tall friends turn around to face you. A girl with bright purple hair is clinging onto him, kissing up and down his neck. You had no clue when he left the club.

"Hey!" he says with a smile. "What are you doing here?". His eyes dart over to Tamaki and Dabi stumbling up the

stairs after you. "Oh, I see. Have fun!".

He sends you a wink before darting into his room with the girl. "Didn't know you knew 'im," you slur. Tamaki nods before pointing to a deep purple door, most likely his.

"I know him from school," he says before striding over to his door and holding it open for you and Dabi. "And he's my roommate.".

Dabi darts past you and into the room. He lets himself fall down onto the small couch in Tamaki's room. "Nice place you got here," he says. "Real nice.". His calloused fingertips run over the plush material of the couch.

Tamaki lays his hand on the small of your back before leading you into his room, closing the door behind him. Sweet citrus flows into your nose. His room is spotless. Light blue led lights illuminate the room.

"Want a drink?" he asks both of you before stumbling over to the mini-fridge standing beside his desk. You nod before walking over to the couch and letting yourself fall down next to Dabi.

Dabi wraps his arms around your shoulder and pulls you to lay comfortably against his chest. The rhythmic beating of his heart calms you down even further.

Tamaki pulls three bottles of beer out of the fridge, holding them up in the air for you to see. Dabi nods approvingly prompting Tamaki to open the bottles up for you all.

The soft pops of the caps being removed sound through the room. After the bottles are opened he walks over to the couch. You greedily grab the ice-cold bottle out of his hands before he sits down himself, beside Dabi.

You take a sip of the beer, savouring the bitter tingle it leaves in your throat. Dabi takes a swig of the bottle as well while Tamaki keeps on staring at the bed in front of him.

"Got some music?" Dabi asks. Tamaki nods. He pulls his phone out, quickly connecting with the speakers in his room. He opens up Spotify before handing the phone to Dabi.

"Y-You choose," he says before finally taking a sip of his beer. Dabi smirks as he browses through the app.

You perch up as familiar tunes start to fill the room. "Arctic Monkeys? Jezus christ, you're predictable," you say before taking another chug of your beer.

"Shut the fuck up. It's good music. Besides," Dabi says before leaning in to whisper in your ear. "It's good music to fuck too.".

Heat rushes up to your face. You already guessed that that was the reason why Tamaki asked you to go to his place. But Dabi confirming your suspicions still makes you get flustered.

Tamaki chokes on his beer as he hears Dabi talks. Dabi chuckles as he gives Tamaki's back a couple of slaps. "There there, shy-boy," he says. Tamaki holds his hand up to signal Dabi to stop. He obliges and leans back into the couch again.

It stays quiet for a moment as the three of you sip on your beers. Dabi's hand slowly creeps up your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh slightly.

"Bunny," Tamaki says. You gulp at the nickname, fuck, is it hot. "Why don't you come to sit on my l-lap for a bit?". His dark eyes bore into yours. You nod before handing Dabi your beer.

His eyes are glued on your eyes as you crawl over him before sitting down on Tamaki's lap. "You're so pretty like this," he says. Your skin is flushed, eyes droopy and smile loopy. One of his hands rests on your hip as the other moves to caress your cheek.

"You're gonna be a good little bunny for us, right?" he asks as he glances over to Dabi. He is still sipping his beer while his eyes are focused on your hips and the way they subconsciously grind into Tamaki's.

"If you don't want this, just-just tell me," Tamaki says. You shake your head as your hands move to play with Tamaki's hair. "You gotta say it.".

"I want this," you say. A smile creeps up on Tamaki's lips. He leans in closer. You quickly take the hint and press your lips against his.

The bitter of the beer he just drank still lingers on his lips. His lips move against yours softly and sloppily. His hand cups your cheek while yours tug softly on his hair.

He lets out a groan at a particularly harsh tug. Your hips grind into his on the beat of the music. Tamaki relishes in the heat radiating off your body. Your soft skin pressed against his, your sweet taste on his lips and fingers tugging on his hair.

Tamaki pulls away, earning a whine from you. "Fuck, bunny," he groans out. Your hips don't stop their movements even when you can feel him becoming hard under you. You let your head rest against Tamaki's chest as you look at Dabi.

He is still holding onto a bottle of beer in one hand while the other is palming himself through his jeans. He licks his lip, running over the cold metal of his piercings.

"You two sure know how to put on a show," he says. His voice borders a growl, making it all the hotter. You make grabby hands towards him.

Dabi obliges by placing his beer on the floor next to the couch and leaning forward until his body is pressed against Tamaki's. He starts to run his hands over your body. His fingertips linger around your hips and thighs.

"Whatever will we do with you?" he asks while looking at Tamaki. The indigo-haired in question leans towards Dabi to whisper something in his ear.

All you can do is stay seated in Tamaki's lap and grind your hips against his at an agonizingly slow pace. The small amount of friction goes straight to your stomach and helps to build up the knot forming.

Dabi smirks at Tamaki's words before he stands up off the couch. "Baby," he coons. "Why don't you go sit on the bed and be nice and pretty for us?". His cooky grin makes your heart skip a beat.

Tamaki nods at you as he lifts his hands off your body. With wobbly steps, you make your way over to the bed. You sit down on it, noting the plushness of the covers.

Dabi and Tamaki take their stand before you. They gaze down at you with lust in their eyes. "Think you can handle the two of us, baby?" Dabi asks. You nod at his words.

"Of course they can," Tamaki adds. He takes a step closer to you to gently cup your cheek. You melt into his touch. God, you could stay like this forever. "You'll be a good bunny for us, right?".

"If not, we might have to punish you," he adds, earning a chuckle from Dabi. You look up at the two men through your lashes. You can't help but get turned on beyond belief at the sight of them. You're in for a long night, that's for sure.

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transformationstuck · 6 years ago

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Commission work based on the old Milf Mag fics, but now with John as the focus.

“Roxyyyyyy!” John yelled, crying out into the whitespace nothingness he found himself in, “You left your overvoided junk on my desk again! Again, Roxy!”

This wasn’t the first time Roxy had overcharged her void powers and left the results around for John to find. T-shirts, cabinets, boxes of cereal… the common thread between them seemed to be that they were so full of Void that they would try to fill themselves with whoever tried to interact with them. Well, except Roxy, of course. And so John had found himself wearing or trapped inside of various items in ways that ranged from amusing to infuriating.

And this one was definitely the latter. For starters, he couldn’t see shit, and his attempts to wiggle around and punch a hole through the off-white surface before him were being met with so much resistance he could almost swear he wasn’t moving at all.

Where the hell was this? He'd just been trying to clean the place up and hadn't really been watching what he was doing. Had he bumped Roxy's mattress and gotten stuck inside that thing? It would explain the whiteness, and maybe how restricted his movements felt, and the surface he was up against certainly felt like fabric, but something about it just didn't feel right.

But before John could put any more thought into his situation, a familiar voice came ringing out in a very familiar tone, "Oh Joooooohn... you hooooome~?"

The slight purr in her voice was unmistakable. Roxy was horny as fuck. Scooooooore!

As long as Roxy doesn't laugh at his situation so much that she kills the mood. But even with that in mind, John needed her help, so he let out what he hoped was a manly plea for assistance.

"....!"

W... Why couldn't he speak? He was speaking before, right? But now it felt like he couldn't even move his mouth! That was bad! He tried his hardest to kick and flail for attention, but again his entire body felt rigid and unmoving.

John could hear Roxy approach, but it didn't seem like she could see his attempts to wiggle for attention, "Boy Howdy I sure do feel like getting fucked by a strapping young lad and his big ol' donger!" Roxy called with absolutely no attempt to make it sound erotic. Damn, she knew just how to push his buttons!

"Haaaah... Oh wellllll." Went Roxy, and John felt the surface below him move as he heard the sounds of blankets being tossed abouy above him. But just as it seemed like his mattress theory was about to be confirmed, John suddenly saw everything in front of him suddenly moving in one great big blur of colour.

"...!!"

He'd meant to say 'Roxy', but once again his voice failed him.

Where the hell could be possibly be that would allow him to see Roxy perfectly, while unable to be seen in turn? And, more importantly, why did it make her look so HUGE?

He watched nervously as Roxy slowly slipped herself under the covers, bringing her hand up to her mouth to give her finger a lick. Even John's face felt weirdly restricted as he tried to raise his eyebrow in confusion, but thay confusion didn't last much longer as her she reached out towards him and pressed her finger on the side of his face. He was glad he still had his glasses on to protect his eyes, as her massive finger squished right up against his face, adhering him to her as she gave her hand a flick.

John knew that weird habit of hers. Roxy was reading! She always found it a little gross when she read like that, but it was far worse when it was being pressed right into his face.

He just hoped this was a good book!

As the page fell, John's eyes were treated to an entirely new world. He could still see Roxy in his peripheral vision, but now he was looking out towards what looked like some kind of black-and-white college campus... was he in a manga? Did he look like a handsome anime boy right now? No, that was a dumb thought! He needed to get his ass back into the real world!

"Roxy!" He called, relieved that he could talk again, "I'm in here! You left your stuff full of void again!"

Roxy did not respond, instead turning her head away from him. John's attempt to cry out 'noooooo!' silenced like his earlier attempts at talking. Fortunately, a sudden shift in his perspective granted him a chance to learn why. Once again he was facing outward, and he could just barely see himself on the opposite page, a pair of speech bubbles filled to the brim with text, though there was something decidedly off about the text that John just couldn't quite make out from this angle.

At least he seemed to have another speech bubble in this panel, and he quickly made his plea, "Rox! I'm stuck in this dumb book, you--"

B'DONK!

John felt a sudden pain in the side of his head as his perspective shifted again. His vision was skewed as one of his eyeballs felt like it shrunk and the other grew, and he could see action lines all around himself.

"My apologies, John-kun."

John felt like he was falling, his feet weren’t even touching the floor… no, they didn’t even seem to exist right now, as his waist eventually gave way to whiteness as it reached what must have been the edge of the page. But that wasn’t what his character was paying attention to at all, for it seemed that he was stuck in a panel where he was looking up at a tall, handsome anime fella… and blushing so much his face felt like it was cooking.

“Th-Th-Thank you?” He stuttered, even though he didn’t really feel like he should’ve been stuttering at all. It would be kind of ridiculous to be nervous about this encounter, this guy wasn’t real! He was fictional! Though… he was holding onto John with an arm around his back while their hands touched. Kind of a weird way to stop someone from falling, it didn’t even feel like a pose they could’ve gotten into from how they bonked heads. All the while, he could hear Roxy giggling.

Yeeeeeah, John had a pretty good idea what kind of story this was now, “Roxy! I don’t wanna be a part of your stupid dumb yaoi manga!” He cried, albeit now he was in a new panel where he was standing up incredibly straight, and could feel puffs of steam coming out of his ears. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but he really hoped she’d turn the page soon, “I’m not even gay, Roxy!”

John’s comment apparently fell on deaf ears, as once again Roxy licked her finger and flicked the page over. He was sitting now. Great, a classroom scene. What thing was he in for here? Once again he couldn’t talk, it must have been an establishing shot, but he very quickly transitioned into the next scene, with him staring at the door at… he wanted to sigh… ‘senpai’. That handsome man was walking into room, absolutely surrounded by sparkles and flowers and rose petals.

“Oh, John-kun. I didn’t realise you were taking this class.” He said, though it was weird, because he didn’t exactly have a voice, yet John always had odd memories of him speaking, “Try not to be too naughty, okay?”

Roxy giggled. John just grumbled back, “You… do know I’m not a homosexual, right?” He asked, hoping his sarcasm would be properly conveyed. Goddammit he wished he could half-lid his eyes right now, but instead they were wide open and staring. Worse, it felt like his heart was racing in his chest. He could just barely make out lines on the side of his chest, just over his heart. Why did Roxy have to be into this stupid romantic shoujo bullshit?

John felt his scene transition again, and found a chance to speak as his ‘senpai’ took a seat next to him, “Look… You’re probably not even real, but I’m just waiting for my girlfriend to--" But John was suddenly interrupted as Roxy turned over the page, and he found himself staring face to face with senpai, uncomfortably close to his big, round eyes, “W-Woah, h-hey! You seem nice and a-all… f-fucking, this stuttering isn’t me! I-I’m just flustered because I’m being drawn this way!”

No response. John had to imagine that the guy was stuck saying whatever the original script said, just with John’s name replacing whatever the original protagonist’s name was. But even though he wasn’t talking, and John’s attempts to speak were being prevented, the two lingered on for several more panels, just staring at one-another as John began to notice more and more details in his eyes. Though with every extra line and sparkle added to his irises, John felt more and more of himself being cut away. It didn’t hurt, but he kept feeling less and less of himself, chopped away by the panel border and leaving him as just a disembodied head… then face… then eye. It was a good thing he was already drawn with shuddering lines, because that’s exactly what he wanted to do.

Smooch!

And then once again John and his character matched perfectly. His eyes widened in shock as senpai’s lips met his. His entire face felt warm again, steam emitting from all sides as his glasses comically cracked. He wanted to scream at Roxy, to tell her to turn the page, because he was stuck feeling so many over-the-top emotions that he couldn’t even pinpoint them all! But no, Roxy just seemed enamoured with the scene. From the corner of his eye John could see Roxy’s excited face, and while normally that’d be enough to make him instantly forgive all her crimes, right now he just wanted out of the kiss, and out of the book!

Thankfully, John eventually got his wish. In fact, Roxy was even kind enough to skip over a few pages, which John was sure had character development galore. As Roxy flicked through, John tried to find relief from the extreme sensations he’d felt, though it was made a bit hard as John was occasionally made to spend a few seconds or more stuck in odd positions, such as underneath senpai’s desk, ostensibly reaching for a pencil, only to instead notice a… uh… SIZEABLE bulge in the dude’s pants. It even had extra lines to emphasize just how big it was! God, why did he have to be dating a pervert? …And why was that pervert spending so long on this one panel! Big dicks had no appeal to him, except maybe in the hypothetical world where he had one himself!

“Mmmmmngh…” Roxy groaned, and John recognised the sound. Wow. That girl gets herself horny super easily, he thought. It seemed like she was turned on by the mere idea of handsome anime dick. He wished real dick had the same effect on her, that’d be fun.

The fun of imagining that idea proved an entertaining distraction, so distracting, in fact, that John didn’t even notice the subtle differences in the scene transition. No longer was he just staring at the guy’s cock… he was grabbing it!

“Goddammit Roxy!” He shouted, mentally slapping himself as he realised that he’d wasted the panel’s only text box.

“J-John-kun…” Went senpai, the next panel making John want to wretch as he saw a close up of his own hand pulling down that zipper. A feeling made worse when he realised he couldn’t even feel his own head in that shot, just a disembodied hand.

Aaaaand fwlomp! An absolutely massive cock fell out of senpai’s pants, and slapped itself down on John’s face, some unscrupulous fluids already trickling down onto his brow. “Gross gross gross gross gross groooooss… I-I hate dick!” He cried, desperate to pull away or push the thing off his face.

“Hee… hah…” Roxy giggled a bit as she panted. Her body and the entire world John was in were bouncing around. She was masturbating, and this was hentai. That realisation might have been more devastating to John if not for the fact he was already bringing the uncensored cock down to his lips, his pursed lips pressing against it and forcing him to taste the salty bitterness of pre-cum.

“Turn the page, Roxy, oh please, turn the page!” John cried, not sure how his character was meant to be talking right now, but he didn’t care, he just wanted to NOT be doing the gay thing right now and--

“HRRRCK!” John’s throat was static, but the sensation of constantly trying to force out some ten inches of manmeat from his gullet was constant. It was like he was permanently at the most intense part of having his gag reflex triggered, trying to push out the thing in his throat, even though he never could.

“Wow… John-kun… your throat is truly special…” Senpai sighed, his crotch squashed up against John’s nose.

“Mmnnn… Nnnngh…” For a moment John had thought senpai was the one moaning, until he realised that the sounds were coming from Roxy! “Nnnghh… c-cock’s too small…” She whined. John wanted to roll his eyes, this thing was already making his eyes roll back, both in the art and mentally, so calling it too small was ridiculous.

…Or it would have been, had Roxy not shown John just how big a cock could really get by bringing out a pen and adding in several crude lines in several quick strokes. What had been a small bump in his throat was now as wide as the rest of his neck, and he was made to feel the cock inside of him suddenly bloat up to match, even if it didn’t quite match with its width in his mouth. And then she made sure to go the extra mile by adding in a ballooned out belly, which was made to feel like it was rumbling and sloshing about as Roxy’s hand was made unsteady by her own pleasure.

If John wasn’t just a drawing right now, there was no way he could’ve survived all that, especially not with Roxy keeping her eyes on the panel for a minute straight as she played around with herself beneath the sheets.

When she finally moved on and John was finally moved on to a scene that was merely humiliating, he almost felt like he was in heaven.

“S-Sorry, John-kun… please take my semen bath…” Came Senpai’s melodic, weirdly disembodied voice.

“D-D-Don’t mention it.” John stuttered, this time not because of the character, “J-Just don’t, nngh… t-tell my girlfriend…” He joked, completely and utterly dazed after that last experience.

“No… John-kun… I want you to understand…” Senpai said, leaning in close to give John an unexpected hug, one that he desperately needed after the foot-wide cock he’d just had in his throat, “I… I love you.”

“S-Senpai, th-that’s…” John gasped, feeling his blush get intense again, “th-that’s ridiculous… y… you’re fictional and also not really my type. I-I’m just not… i-interested in--”

“BOH-RING!” Roxy chimed, and gave the page another few flicks. John braced himself for the worst as he prepared himself for something horrible.

“MNNNNNNYAAAARGH!” He screeched. Yep, there was something in his ass! He could feel senpai’s body over his, clutching him in a weirdly protective way, but it wasn’t enough to distract from the sheer pain of his virgin asshole being filled with a ten inch cock!

Or… oh no… “R-Roxy… please… I-I’m not gay… p-please don’t make him bigger again… p-please!” He begged, feeling as Roxy’s pen pressed into his skin, and started to drift upwards. It didn’t feel of anything, not yet. It was still just a line for now, but then she drifted to the side, adding in some bumps here and there before making her way back down again. The moment her pen was off the paper, John felt like he was going to burst, for Roxy had just added a cock-shaped bulge to his stomach that reached up almost all the way to his chin, made to feel even bigger thanks to the poor perspective on Roxy’s art.

“J-John-kun… t-tell me you love me…” Came senpai’s soothing voice, not that John cared over the overwhelming sensations of feeling himself being so ludicrously penetrated. Roxy even had to humiliate him by adding tiny little spurts of his own cum shooting out of his dick. It was a merciful relief, but it only pushed the problem further by adding yet more overwhelming sensations to the mix!

John was trapped in the middle of the most intense and yet pathetic orgasm he’d had in his life. He’d never cum from something like this before, his poor prostate the victim of two or more feet of leg-thick cock. It made it hard to think, and all he could do was try to focus on the sense of his own ridiculous pleasure to block out the sensation of being stretched to the extremes.

“Hnggghaaaaaawwh!”

John momentarily felt hopeful. Roxy’s orgasm squeal was unmistakeable. But the idea she’d free him from this mess was dashed as she watched Roxy’s body teeter about, the girl attempting to put the comic away, but instead just leaving it down on her pillow, her head landing on one page as John endured his fate on the one next to it.

How could things get worse than this?

“SNOOOOOORE!”

That was how. With a great big inhale, Roxy pulled the pages up onto her face, skipping back a few pages.

“S-Sorry, John-kun… please take my semen bath…”

John gagged as he once again felt copious amounts of spunk all over him, this time properly tasting the semen in his mouth that he’d not really noticed when coming off the heels of having his throat stuffed.

“Wow… John-kun… your throat is truly special…”

The feeling of his ridiculously overstretched throat was back! His big, rumbly belly made things feel like they were shaking, which only made things worse!

“No… John-kun… I want you to understand… I… I love you!”

Momentary comfort for John as he relived the hug, but only for a split second as Roxy began to exhale, flipping the pages all the way back to where they had just been.

“J-John-kun… t-tell me you love me…”

Senpai’s ridiculous cock was back inside John, and John was once again struck with an orgasm, or rather returned to one already in progress. It all happened so suddenly… from overfull asshole to an overfull throat and back again, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it but be happy that he at least got some momentary relief.

“SNORE!”

“Wow… John-kun… your throat is truly special.”

Back to choking…

“J-John-kun… t-tell me you love me.”

Back to cumming…

“S-Sorry John-kun… please take my semen bath…”

Back to being made into his senpai’s cumdump…

“SNORE!”

“Wow… John-kun…”

Throat. Again.

“SNORE!”

“T-Tell me you love me.”

There was no pattern to it. John was subject to the whim’s of Roxy’s snores. All he could do was look forward to his next orgasm. …And the occasional comforting hugs of his senpai.

“I-I do love you… senpai…”

“Grubble Translate”

Roxy took a few intermittent snaps of the comic as she settled down in front of her laptop. Sure, she could spawn a yaoi doujin out of thin air, but apparently she was just straining causality a little too far to try and get one in English.

#Mod O #inanimate tf #john egbert #Roxy Lalonde #sexuality tf #homosexual focus

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yaoimila · 7 years ago

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The Dark Prince Yaoi Webcomic

The DARK PRINCE WEBCOMIC http://yaoimila.com

Faunication

The gorgeous faun Kali became famous with a traveling carnival in the human world and wrote a memoir that will offend the prudish nobility.

Kali has sex with men and women without preference. When he falls in love with the carnival master Richard he accepts it with his entire heart, but he soon finds out that humans aren’t as versatile as his kind. Richard denies feeling the erotic energy between them. Can Kali teach him the faun way of love?

Written in the style of a salacious 18th century memoir, the first third of this book is pure faunication and rest is the love story between Kali and Richard. This is a complete novel, not a series, with a guaranteed HEA. Yamila Abraham’s longest work to date at 70,000 words!

Read it on your computers or devices now! Free on Kindle Unlimited!

Click your country to grab it now! Kindle USA, Kindle UK, Kindle Canada, Kindle Australia, Kindle Germany, Kindle Spain, Kindle Italy, Kindle France, Kindle Japan, Kindle Mexico, Kindle India, Kindle Netherlands, or Kindle Brazil!

Mega Excerpt ~

1 Cousin

Since I’m writing this book for humans, I won’t say how old I was when I had sex with my cousin. What fauns consider play was usually pantomiming lovemaking, even when we’re barely beyond middle school.

My cousin George was the same age as I, and we’d both inherited the attractive traits of our lineage. He had white ringlets of hair, vivid blue eyes, and lips so red you’d think he’d colored them with berry juice.

I was said to be as handsome as he, but I wasn’t sure. Older relatives doted on me, claiming I would one day grow up to be a gorgeous faun lord, but that’s what aunts and uncles did. I didn’t trust their opinions.

Still, I was suitable enough for George, and, neither of us having any siblings, we adopted each other. We played the way human children often do in the early grades of school. After that we both suffered confusing lust and had only each other to experiment with. It’s not as though we were in love, because we were too young to understand such things, but puberty brought upon the burgeoning desires common to all fauns.

Our game was to pretend to be married, and we’d rub against each other on the soft grass behind our grandfather’s barn. Over the years our grinding became more purposeful. He was my first kiss, my first taste of another’s tongue, and I was his.

And it should have been something meaningful, thinking back, but we were like horny deviant siblings more than boyfriends.

One day our wriggling caused his cock to come out of the side of his loincloth. When he didn’t cover up, I cupped his testicles in my hand and rubbed, making him squirm with his eyes closed and his red lips opened wide.

Right after that game my member popped free from the loincloth too. My cousin wasn’t forward enough to grope me, so we just continued mashing our pelvises against each other until I had my first squirting orgasm in front of him.

It was a peculiar thing because we were very young. Still, George had seen a cock spit that way before when the adults were playing their own games. Fauns usually seek privacy for sex, but need often outweighs modesty. What Faun child hadn’t witnessed two of our people furiously humping in a dark corner of the market? Every teen saw carnal acts enough times to know how to imitate them, which was what George and I were doing.

After our members could no longer be restrained by our clothes, it wasn’t long before the game got serious. We became fully naked one day, kissing, groping, and writhing our hot bodies together. My cock pressed against his anus, and, while still not really knowing what I was doing, I pushed the tip of it in.

George winced in pain and we both decided we needed lubricant. I don’t remember if I stole it from my step-father or if he got it from his home. The next time we played I worked my organ inside of him, and though he claimed it hurt, he begged me not to stop. We had our first real fuck after a decade of play. His cock erupted with seed as I took him, likely his first orgasm. I came within his snug passage, thrusting as gently as I could.

George could have just as easily been a female as I had no preference. And humans may fear the disastrous ramifications over such play if he were, but faun women are only fertile once a year.

I realized how fertility cycles affected our culture after I came to live with humans. Of course fathers lock away daughters who might get pregnant at any time of the year. For faun women, sex was most often recreation without consequences. If you went to my village, you’d see that the women are equal to the men in expressing their desires.

Once we discovered real sex, we did it five times that day. Sometimes I was inside him, and sometimes he was inside me. That first time, when we were sated to the point of paralysis, I rolled off him not bothering to cover my shiny wet cock. He put his head on my shoulder, leaving his small erection and beautiful blushing ass uncovered. We finally understood. This was what all the fuss was about. We’d unraveled that intimate knowledge we’d been fumbling towards all that time.

And again, I warn the human readers; we were quite some years below the age of marriage. That’s the way of my people, because desire rages in our blood as soon as we’re old enough for our cocks to get stiff.

If fauns are meant to be as chaste as humans are, and I argue that we are not, how would we ever know it?

Consider our decadent schools.

2 Mr. Renherld

My beloved Richard has read my first chapter and laughed with joy. He lauds my talent as an amateur author. I hope I shall continue to live up to his standards. He is most patient, reading of my childhood long before I knew him.

I hope you will be patient as well, dear reader, for my goal is not only to recount the success of the Grand Motley Carnival, or of the stage careers Richard and I had after the carnival’s demise, but to acclimate you in depth with the world of the fauns.

Have patience, and I promise you shall learn of the great romance that happened between Richard and I starting in chapter 16.

***

I can’t speak for every faun school, I only know of my five room compound in Schaletar. If what went on in this facility was unusual, I’ve had no sign of it.

Playing the way my cousin and I did was forbidden at school where we were supposed to focus on our lessons. When I was in the rooms for the early grades, this was hardly an issue. Trouble started here and there in the middle grades and then became a grand struggle in the final grades.

Once I reached that room which held the last four grades I saw all the boundaries I’d known get broken. When the teacher’s back turned, a last-year female student flashed her tit to a boy beside her who gingerly reached over to play with her nipple. A girl near me rubbed her hoof against the ass of the boy in front of her, the boy angling in his seat to let her hard toes reach under. Two faun girls who had to share a desk would masturbate each other, getting caught when the more buxom of the pair would whimper with orgasm. And I saw that boys could play with one another just as freely, pinching an ass as one walked down the aisle between our desks or exchanging hand jobs before the teacher arrived in the morning. Students hadn’t a care if classmates saw their activities, no, in fact they loved to exhibit, and the last-years masturbated openly as they watched.

I’d always heard your world changes when you reach the last room of the school. It had, and marvelously. I felt like an adult now, privy to all the delights proper grown-ups knew. I was keen to participate with either a girl or a boy. The punishments made me hesitate.

Our teacher for the last four years of school was Mr. Renherld, a bachelor aged forty-five. Fauns almost never stay unwed into adulthood because a sexual partner was direly required. For Renherld, teacher of the last-years, a spouse was unnecessary. I learned fast enough he took privileges with the students under the guise of punishment and was never vulnerable to any reprisal.

Renherld was tall, lean, with a sharp nose and chin and with spectacles hiding his cruel eyes. He had the costume of a respectable teacher, the black cap and gown they all wore, but the wicked expressions of his face broadcasted diabolical perversion. He loved his thick wooden paddle, but it was his spindly fingers with bulging joints that most often came against a nubile student’s flesh. His black mane of hair made him look sinister, but also reminded one he was a dandy obsessed with his appearance in his youth.

He’d taught my mother her last years of schooling. Before she died, she spoke of him tenderly, with her eyes glistening. I inherited the man fifteen years removed from her experience. He was still a dandy despite the creases beside his eyes, but one who’s cruelty had amplified with age; whose creativity had grown harrowing.

I tell you without exaggeration that this sharpened teacher captivated every student he taught. He had an air of authority which you rarely associated with carnality. In his class we not only saw unrepentant lust from an adult, but were blessed to be the subject of it. He was the first grown-up most fauns in our village had had sex with. It became a rite of passage, common to most all of us, which was why handsome men were always assigned to teach the last-years.

Do I mislead you into thinking him to be a romantic seducer? A gentle initiator of licentious delights? Wipe these notions from your mind. Renherld was a punisher who might have had no intention of granting pleasure. After being subject to his brand of detention you were always sore, and not always sated.

The girl who whimpered her orgasm in the back of the class room had to come to the front. Without being asked, she bent over the teacher’s desk, hoisted her skirt up, and pulled her panties down delicately furred legs. My eyes drank in her glorious pale ass and the dewy hair in the crevice below it. I blushed, also, because I didn’t yet realize a teacher would condone such exhibition.

Renherld produced his forbidding wooden paddle and squashed both of the girl’s plump ass cheeks beneath a brutal strike. Her yelp made me jolt in my seat.

“One!” the class said in unison.

Renherld spanked again.

“Two!” the class said.

He beat her ass to a glorious pink with five reverberating cracks of the paddle. I could hear the pitiful girl sobbing where she bent over his desk.

After the fifth blow, he clattered down the paddle and rubbed her ass flesh with the knobby fingers of his hand. This made my eyes bulge. He told her to think better of what she’d done and not to misbehave again, all while fondling her. And the girl did nothing but quiver with her thighs and reddened ass cheeks beneath his hand.

Then she was allowed to right her clothes and return to her seat. She stuck her tongue out to one boy in playful defiance to her punishment as she passed.

This was how our school was, dear humans. Nearly mature teenagers forced to expose themselves to the whole class, their bare asses spanked and then groped! For me the punishment was just as sexual as whatever crime we were accused of.

I’m speaking of my first year in this notorious room, and me and the rest my grade were still inhibited. This included George, who no longer played with me. Our games ended soon after we fucked because he was eager to show other older children he was wise to sex. I didn’t explore as he did because secrets in my home made me timid beyond my family members. The last time I tried to sleep with George he said he was through playing games with a child.

(This led to a rift between us that lasted until adulthood. Then one day we spoke to each other like old friends in the market and reminisced fondly about our mutual deflowering. These days he’s married to a kind wife, has a soldering trade in the workshop of his home, and twin babies.)

George entered the same grade as me and became just as sheepish in the bold new surroundings. We observed, we enjoyed what we saw, but we were the newest class and not brave enough to take part. We hadn’t any fear of Renherld as yet because it was said he never initiated the first-years.

I would quickly learn this was no longer true.

3 The Bully

I finished an exam early and was allowed to go outside to the water pump for a drink. A senior boy followed me and pulled my tail. I looked at him, not defensive, because the tug of a tail wasn’t seen as aggressive.

“So you’re Madio’s son, is that right? Kali?” said the older student, who was taller than me and already filled with the muscles of a man. I tried to hide the desire in my eyes as I met his gaze.

“Yep,” I said, despite actually being sired by someone else. Madio was the stepfather who reared me after my mother’s death. I wiped my mouth with forced nonchalance.

“I bet you’ve had a man inside you.” He had a sideways smile when he said it.

I smiled with embarrassment in return. “Sure I have.”

“Know why I know?”

I shook my head.

He leaned close to my face, making me feel threatened. “Because your mom’s dead, and your dad never got a new one, never goes out to the town. He stays up in that big house of yours doing nothing.”

I became confused.

“Pretty thing that you are, Kali, I bet you’re who he’s fucking to get by.”

I scoffed with my heart racing.

He grabbed me by my arm. “Oh, come on. Admit it.”

“You don’t know shit!”

He turned away with an angry grin. At this point he might have punched me. I was hoping he really meant it when he called me pretty. Our kind often channeled our anger into sex.

He licked his lip, giving me a sign things wouldn't veer toward violence. “I don’t care if you admit it or not. If your ass is broken in, then you’ll handle my dick easy. None of the other boys’ll take it cause they say it's too big.”

I almost went dizzy with how much blood rushed to my cock. Even if he was an asshole, he was a gorgeous asshole. I was already craving the strength of his large arms around my body. And I couldn’t help myself. I reached out and cupped his groin.

The boy opened his legs and let me get a feel. Yes, he was huge. Long and thick, with a hot cap that pulsed through the fabric of his loincloth. I nudged the tip out of the side of his garment and wet my finger on his slit.

When I looked up at him my eyes had to be shining. “I can take it.”

The confirmation made him grab me and give me a kiss. His body was hard and hot enough to warm me through our clothes. He got his tongue between my lips and worked my mouth with smoldering skill. I felt a tingling rush over my skin, my legs growing weak, my head getting dizzy. This was the first time I felt the surge of energy someone passionate could cause me. It was hollow of any tender emotion, but still thrilling.

But another teacher caught us and reported us to Renherld. It was time for school to let out. He yelled in front of the class that we would both have our bare asses spanked on Monday.

“And you, first-year,” Renherld said with a suspicious grin, “you’ll get the worst of it!”

The older boy didn’t care. Me? I was horrified and aroused. My nipples perked under the sheer white tunic I wore making chafing peaks as I walked.

Besides having us fret all weekend, Mr. Renherld gave us write-up slips to take home before we left. Whenever you were punished at school, you had to inform your parent and get them to sign off on a slip. This way you’d be punished twice for the same crime.

I didn’t mind this part. My step-father was exactly what the older boy described: he never remarried after my mother’s death, never went to town, and had no occupation. He stayed in the large home which belonged to my grandparents living meagerly off an inheritance.

I knew it would please him to have an excuse to punish me.

#yaoi

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popgoesthewiener · 8 years ago

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Even The Stars Are Ill At Ease 0001 - Doofus Rick Sanchez/Evil Morty Smith - SFW

Title: Even The Stars Are Ill At Ease Author: Daisy Fandom: Rick And Morty Setting: Pairing: Doofus Rick/Evil Morty, J19ζ7 Rick/Evil Morty, Gazorpazorpian Rick/Evil Morty, C137 Rick/Evil Morty, Evil Rick/Evil Morty, Riq IV/Evil Morty, Storage Rick/Evil Morty, Miami Rick/Miami Morty, Miami Rick/Investment Rick/Miami Morty, Super Morty Fan Morty/Miami Morty, Punk Morty/Miami Morty, Greaser Morty/Miami Morty, Punk Morty/Greaser Morty/Miami Morty, Dreamy Rick/Novelist Rick, Dreamy Rick/Punk Morty, Novelist Rick/Greaser Morty, C137 Rick/C137 Morty, Birdperson/Tammy Gueterman, Abradolf Lincoler/Nancy, Mr. Lucius Needful/Summer Smith Characters: Doofus Rick, Evil Morty, Gazorpazorpian Rick, C137 Rick, Evil Rick, Riq IV, Storage Rick, Miami Rick, Investment Rick, Dreamy Rick, Novelist Rick, Miami Morty, Punk Morty, Greaser Morty, Super Morty Fan Morty, C137 Morty, Birdperson, Tammy Gueterman, Abradolf Lincoler, Nancy, Mr. Lucius Needful, C137 Summer Smith, Doofus Jerry, Doofus Beth, Doofus Summer, Doofus Snuffles Genre: Romance/Angst/Drama/Hurt/Comfort Rating: E Chapters: 1/? Word Count: 3522 Type of Work: Chapter Story Status: Incomplete Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Het, Straight, AU - Canon Divergent, Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Gore, Child Abuse, Incest, Grandfather/Grandson Incest, Selfcest, ABO Dynamics, Alpha!Doofus Rick, Omega!Evil Morty, Some Universes are ABO and others are not, Most pairings are just mentioned, More Tags To Be Added Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Summary: Evil Morty isn’t totally sure what to do about his desire to have a ‘Proper Rick’, while Doofus Rick is finding that he might have been forced to forget something important. AN: Alright guys, so like… I have this whole headcanon surrounding Doofus Rick being Evil Morty’s original Rick. I’ll let the story tell itself, instead of spoiling things, but some things to note: Evil Morty’s Snuffles never left entirely, he stayed with Morty and kept his mecha suit. Doofus Rick is a trauma therapist that sometimes works with the Rick police/military forces, especially with victims of Ricks’ plots. He deals with a lot of Rickless Mortys, too.

Rick And Morty Fic Masterlist (Chapters Will Be Posted There) Chapter One: I Woke Up To Something In My Head ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Sunlight filtered into the house through the big picture window downstairs, and everything seemed cheery and bright save for the young teen’s bedroom. The lights were off, blackout curtains drawn, and he lay snuggled down underneath his six blankets, not ready to leave his cocoon of warmth and safety. It brought a sweet smile to the lips of the elder male as he entered the room with a wooden tray full of food in hand.

“Morty?” A smile brighter than a thousand suns met his eyes, the second one slowly refocusing with a few mechanical whirs. Those buck teeth, he’d know them anywhere. “Rick…?” He whispered, slowly pushing up onto his knees, one hand holding up his weight as the other dug the heel into his false eye. “What are you-- I thought you were-- Do you remember…?” “I made you breakfast, silly.” Rick absently flicked some hair out of his face, setting the ornate little tray down in front of his Morty and ruffling his wild, sleep-destroyed curls. “I was thinking maybe later, we could go out. You know, we need some more cesium for something we’re working on, and I thought maybe I could take you out for lunch. Anywhere you like, little buddy! Today’s your special day.” Leaning forward, he pressed his lips softly to Morty’s forehead, before getting up and dusting off his pants. “Wh-where are you going?” For a second, he couldn’t hide the desperation on his face, the terror in his tone, and his eyes must have looked pained because Rick sat back down beside him, tugging him into his lap. “Oh, baby, don’t look so sad… I need to go grab my breakfast so I can eat with you.” His voice was soft, sincere, and something about it calmed the racing heart of the boy in his arms. “I just… Don’t want to lose you.” Morty imparted shyly, the brighter aura of his mechanical eye shining in the dimly lit room. It made the red on his cheeks even more obvious, and he looked away as another kiss was pressed to his cheekbone. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Morty, you know that.” He smiled softly, slowly picking the other up and setting him beside his tray of food, getting up again. “I’ll be right back.” Casting a glance at the pancakes with strawberry glaze, the bacon and egg baked thingy that Rick insisted was the better version of both worlds, the orange juice and milk sitting side by side, he found himself sighing. How could anyone want this to stop? With a little sigh, he tucked into his orange juice, eyelids slipping closed. Seconds later, he was jarred out of his joy by the entire room shaking. Debri fell from the ceiling and his shocked eyes flitted around the room. Hot, wet tears ran rampant down his cheeks as he heard a sob of anguish from downstairs; he could feel his hands quaking, the burn of bile in his-- “Morty.” An almost robotic voice managed to sound concerned. A hot, red tongue swiped over his cheek several more times before the brunet shot up in bed, smacking his head on the mechanical contraption his dog resided in. Tears slipped down his cheeks but it had nothing to do with the pain in his head. “Sn-Snowball?” He questioned, slowly, eyes narrowing, the right one whirring as it shot about the room. He wasn’t in that sun drenched house anymore, his bed was lumpy and cold despite him sleeping in the same spot all night, and the only other living being worth his time in this place was his dog. The cold metal of the room he was in only helped to amplify the loneliness he felt as he absently reached forward to pet the fluffy dog’s chest, the only spot his neural suit didn’t totally cover. “It appears you were dreaming of him again, Morty.” The dog informed, carefully preparing the suit for exit so that he could hop up onto the bed. The little white Maltese crossed the gray blanket to curl up in his friend’s lap, licking at his chin again before watching him carefully. “If you need it, I am here for emotional support.” Chuckling a little bit, albeit mirthlessly, Morty’s hands lovingly pet down the fluffy dog’s fur, scratching the base of his tail and rubbing along his spine. The human was so good at getting all the spots his companion couldn’t quite reach, and it always made him pant a smile. “I might just need to go see hi--” A pause, and he gulped, “My therickpist again.” “You cannot hide forever.” Snowball responded, those beady eyes looking up into Morty’s, “He will find out somehow. His entire livelihood--” “I know. Until then, I have to--” “Make do with other Ricks? Let them treat you poorly so you feel more like one of yourselves?” “...You’d make a great therick-- Therapist, Snuffles.” But it wasn’t the most praising tone he’d ever heard. Snowball bared his teeth for a moment, before huffing and closing his eyes, sighing gently. “Go, then. I’ve made breakfast, but I know you’d rather not eat before you go to the Citadel. I suppose that means more bacon for me.” “You eat all the bacon you want, Snuffles. You’re the best friend a Morty could ask for.” Kissing his head, he let the dog make his way back to his suit before getting out of bed and stretching. It would be a long day, most likely, and he wanted to at least look a little less like he’d gotten three hours of sleep this week and hadn’t remembered what a shower was for at least half of that time. It was hard to be involved in a project as large as the one he was busy with, and maybe this particular trip was long, long overdo. Eyepatch in place, he settled into the scalding water, letting it soak away his fatigue even as he found himself wishing he could crawl back into bed. The desire to go see the man that plagued his dreams was enough to spur his leaden limbs to moving, and he took the bare minimum of showers before he was hopping into his usual shirt and pants. White vans on his feet and black socks climbing up his calves, he closed his eyes as he tried to think about what to do about the circles under his eyes. A glance at the clock told him he needed to go quickly, so he changed his mind about doing anything and simply grabbed his portal gun out of the box labeled ‘PORN’ in his closet. It took less time to portal to the Citadel of Ricks than it probably should have, and he was thankful that he wasn’t the only solo Morty running around. All he had to do was go to Sanchez And Associates, which would take him six streets north, four to the right and down the last one, across from the McRick’s that he’d probably eat lunch at. It was a simple enough walk, melded in with the other Mortys with his eyepatch in his pocket, and when he finally arrived at the old hotel, he took the stairs to avoid any awkward elevator moments. Upon arriving on the third floor, even he had to admit he was a little out of breath, panting as he rest against the wall. A couple other Mortys passed him, chatting about this, that and the other thing, giggling like a gaggle of girls. It set his jaw so tight his eyes hurt, and he had to rub them, the whirring of his right eye kicking up another notch as he rolled it up and back. When it came back to a normal setting, he could see through the wall like an X-Ray, trying to find his purpose for coming here in the first place. “...Hey, what the fuck are you doing here again, kid? Weren’t you just--” “Shut it, Rick.” Morty snapped, eyelids narrowing dangerously as he snarled his next words, “I thought it was that Morty’s day to work? Didn’t realize there was going to be a secricktary today.” “I’m the fucking secretary today, you little shit. Don’t bite my balls off, Jesus. Who are you here for?” Leveling a glare on the scowling man behind the desk, Morty finally sighed and rolled his eyes before closing them. Breathe. That was what he’d been instructed whenever his temper was too high. Most Ricks weren’t smart enough to listen, but he still had that Morty disposition, despite the fact. “J19ζ7 Rick.” There was a look settled on him before the Rick laughed around the mouth of the bottle he was drinking from. “Doofus? You Mortys sure love him as a therapist.” He almost sounded incredulous for a long moment before he shrugged, “And which Morty are you?” “J499.” It was a lie, one he knew well enough, but it was easy to tell, at this point. At least he was believed. It had been awfully hard getting a new dimension, but finding one that had a dead Rick and Morty was a lot easier than he’d thought. Assuming someone else’s identity was always easier said than done. “...You don’t have an--” “I know. I just had a shitty… Experience, and he said that whenever I need him, I could go see him.” “He says that to--” “Shut up, asshole.” Morty sat on the little couch in the waiting room, facing the door, and pulled out his phone. Flipping through a few things, here, there, then another, he finally found himself relaxing a little. It was one, two, three Mortys and a Rick that walked out of that back office before he finally saw the blue-haired angel that would lead to a bit more of a restful night for him. With any luck. “Hey, there, Morty. Are you ready?” His kind smile and soft blue eyes were enough to coax Morty’s heavy limbs into movement, and he offered a small smile as he nodded. Feeling the other’s hand in between his shoulderblades leached ten million years of stress and anxiety from his soul, and he sighed gently. “Y-yeah, uh… I--” “You don’t have to say anything until you’re comfy on the couch.” The way he said it was more something a father or a friend would, and Morty felt his heart flutter in his chest. Maybe this was a mistake. Or, maybe, he would be able to get this nipped in the bud totally. Once they were behind the closed door, Rick seated himself calmly in his usual chair across from the loveseat Morty spread out on like he owned the place. What he wouldn’t have given to lay his head in the other’s lap… But he had to knock that thought out of his head before he said something stupid. “So, I heard you had an emergency.” Rick’s voice was soft, his tone sympathetic, and his eyes gentle. Every time Morty exposed himself to this, it just made everything worse. Here he was, sitting with the man of his literal dreams, and all he could do was shrug and try not to stutter. “I… I-- I keep having these… These dreams. About someone that I used to know, and I… I shouldn’t… The dreams are…” If only he could finish a sentence like he could a Morty torture device. “The um… Themes behind the dreams can be… Troubling. Not necessarily bad, but… I shouldn’t feel this way about h-- This person. Sometimes they are… Sexual in nature, and others they are… Almost mundane.” The whole time, Rick took quiet notes on his legal pad, keeping his eyes on the other as he listened intently. Nodding a little here and there, he sat forward just slightly, pressing his elbows on his knees and tenting his hands against his mouth. The gesture was oddly attractive, and brown eyes flitted to the ceiling, the boy closing in on himself where he laid on the couch. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he scooted so that he was sitting in the corner of it, he almost looked guilty. When he didn’t continue, Rick nearly chirped his first question. “Regardless of what happens in these dreams, do you remember how they make you feel?” His head tipped to the side, knocking a bit of his dorky bowl cut into his eyes. Morty wrung his hands as he thought about it. He was almost afraid to say what he actually came up with. “They… Make me feel safe. Like I’m only at home in my dreams.” He began, closing his eyes and trying to think of how to word the rest of it, “It’s like… I… I don’t know, you know? I feel… Happy. And then… I wake up and I’m sad. Snuffles has been great about helping me but he… Doesn’t quite understand, I don’t think.” “Well, the important thing to note, I think, is that these dreams shouldn’t give you excess anxiety. Just like Snowball, you take comfort in them. It’s rather likely that you do not feel anything for this person, but you need to feel safe and happy in your waking hours. Being as you know this person, or did at some point, you probably have a heavy connection to them that you might not consciously be aware of.” Everything that Rick was saying seemed to cement things in place for him. Morty did crave happiness and that feeling of safety and love that the dreams provided him, and he mourned their absence like he were addicted. Maybe it was wrong of him to want to get up, to snuggle into the other’s lap and have his hair pet, but there it was. The urge was sitting in the black pit of his heart, tugging his heartstrings like it might pull the right one to get him to move. Instead, he stayed firmly planted, rolling his fidget cube in his palm. “So… I should maybe… S-seek out a… A Rick or something?” His cheeks were hot as the question left his lips, and he felt itchy in a way that only wanting out of one’s own skin could bring about. “You said that yours died a while back,” Rick responded quietly, writing something down before looking up again, “Perhaps you need one in your life. Many Mortys are fine without their Ricks, but it isn’t uncommon to find one side of the other craving the attention of their opposite.” Some part of Morty wished that this Rick understood what he was saying. Craving the attention of a Rick? That, he figured, was probably true. Which was why there was a Gazorpazorpian Rick in an underground part of his lab back on the planet he’d taken up as his. He’d picked up and dropped so many Ricks in his work, used them as shields and reasons to go this place or that one. He let them think they were in control, he turned them into cyborg freaks like himself, all in an attempt to gain some kind of acceptance. The ones he controlled didn’t give him what he wanted of their own free will. The ones mostly governed by instinct didn’t give him a challenge. And, at the end of the day, none of them were his Rick. But it seemed the devil was always in the details. “Plus, you said you were from dimension J499, right?” Now, Rick was considering something out the window of his office, closing his eyes and sighing slowly out of his mouth. “That is a dimension that deals heavily in Alpha/Omega dynamics, doesn’t it? It would explain your desire to have a connection with a Rick,” For a moment, he paused, sniffing the air before pausing, “Particularly an.. An Alpha.” Well, J19ζ7 most certainly wasn’t wrong. J499, much like J19ζ7, was a universe with heavy Alpha/Omega dynamics, and Morty was, despite himself, an Omega. With Omega needs. And his body had figured out long before he had that there was a particular Alpha that he wanted. There were studies, some of which he and Snuffles had discovered on their own, that there were some pairs that were True Mates. It made sense, in his head, that his body desired his mate. But the eighteen year old was far from a virgin, and nothing had ever taken. Maybe he needed to stop running. “Yes… I suppose I could use a Rick with a… With a knot, huh?” He murmured softly, finally tossing his eyes over at the other. How could Rick be so… So calm? Could he not feel how they were drawn to one another? Was he so brainwashed that even his heart couldn’t possibly remember him? The mind-wipe gun that he used shouldn’t have erased everything like this… Maybe he was repressing things, too. “Are you uh, implying that you frequently sleep with… With other Ricks?” There was something in the elder’s tone that awakened something in him that had his heart pounding, and he shrugged a little. “I…” A lie. He had to tell a lie. Even if the only one he could think of wasn’t entirely untrue. “I make money working at one of the um… M-Morty brothels here in the Citadel.” At least he had the decency to sound properly shamed. Rick’s eyes jumped to the other’s face and for a long moment, he looked a little disturbed. “Do you enjoy it?” He finally asked, his smile soft again, less upset looking, and he reached forward for his water bottle. The way he gulped it down was telling of something, but Morty wasn’t entirely sure what. “I enjoy being close to Ricks that want to… Be with a Morty. I enjoy sex, as well, like most healthy adults do. It shouldn’t matter that…” That he always felt strangely empty afterwards. It didn’t matter how full his belly was, how much he’d been given, how he’d been used and claimed and left with his entire body full… His heart felt empty. “It shouldn’t matter that what, Morty?” Reaching over the sparse space between them, he rested a gentle hand on the other’s shoulder and the younger man wanted to scream. Skin on skin contact was worse than anything through his shirt, and he had to force himself not to whimper. “It shouldn’t matter that I want more than physical attention.” “Everything that you desire and need emotionally is just as important as physical needs.” Rick was pulling his hand back again, nodding slightly as he continued, “Never neglect these things. Your body knows what it needs.” “Sometimes I wonder if it does.” Morty responded, feeling lightning surge through every nerve ending as the other’s hand slid up his arm to his elbow. This was embarrassing. Shivers ran down his spine and he slowly sat up, curling in on himself, though there was a scent of sad satisfaction in his scent. A familiar memory of that particular mixture of lavender, gunpowder and green tea flickered over Rick’s brain, and for a long moment, he just stared. There was a brightness to the flavor of it, and it soaked into the air around them in a way that had him breathing in deep through his mouth to avoid doing something stupid. Morty seemed to notice just what was going on, and suddenly rose to his feet. “Th-thanks, um. I… That’s probably good, I know you have other patients.” They had barely talked for half an hour, but the room was stuffy and he needed to get out onto the street. Maybe he would treat himself to something from the bakery down the street, instead of his usual chicken nuggets at McRick’s. Before the other could stop him, he was out of the room and practically running down the hallway that lead to the lobby. Pushing out the door and into the hallway, he charged down the stairs like there was a fire on his heels. Outside was both a blessing and a curse; he could breathe again, safely and without compromise, but it was too bright. Scrunching up his eyes as he greedily sucked in air like a man drowning, Morty found himself leaning on one of the pillars that held up the building he’d just run out of. His spine screamed at him to rest for a moment, and he knew better than to push himself when it hurt this bad. A glance up at the window of the room he’d just been in showed a concerned J19ζ7 watching him, a hand pressed to the window. For a second, he was sure that there was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, but the younger couldn’t be bothered with that. The bakery furthest from his therapist’s office was in the main lobby of the Council Chamber, and it was close to a place where he could lose himself for a while. After all, that was probably what he needed the most. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: Oh man. xD I honestly don’t know how this got so long. O.o; But hopefully it’s worthwhile.

#Rick And Morty Fanfiction #Rick And Morty Fanfic #RickMorty #Doofus Rick X Evil Morty #Even The Stars Are Ill At Ease #Even The Stars Are Ill At Ease (Fic)

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louisemwrites · 8 years ago

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Fall For Me Again

Summary: On her first day of work, fresh graduate Jiwoo Jeon gets assigned to the editorial department and gets introduced to the head editor. Panic ensues when she realizes that her new superior turns out to be her first love.

“This is the editorial department where you’ll be assigned.”

Jiwoo’s gaze lifted from the file she’d been reading. She hadn’t even noticed that she and the person from Management who was showing her around had arrived at the department where she would be working from then on. Clutching the file close to her chest, she let her eyes wander around the room. She was a little nervous, it was her first job after all, but she tried not to let it show.

“I’ll be leaving you here,” the man, whose name was Woo-jin and who had also insisted she call him Woo-jin, carried on speaking. “The Editor-in-Chief of this department will teach you the ropes himself.”

She quickly nodded. She couldn’t wait to start her dream job. Woo-jin noticed and he grinned.

Then his gaze went over her shoulder and he suddenly yelled. “Hey, where are you going? I told you the new employee would come today, didn’t I?”

Jiwoo turned to see who Woo-jin was shouting at and saw a man heading to the door.

“Show her to her desk, will you?” The man muttered with a yawn. “I'm taking a smoke break.”

“Don’t be rude,” Woo-jin insisted as he passed by them. “Meet the new employee first.”

With a groan, the man finally stopped walking and glanced over his shoulder. Jiwoo blinked. He didn’t look like someone who could be the head of a department. He was a tall and lean man, wearing a ruffled suit and his black hair was so long and unkempt it covered his eyes and half of his face. His jaw was darkened by a day-old beard and he also looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

Jiwoo stepped forward and introduced herself with a bow. "Hello, I'm going to be working here from now on. My name's Jiwoo Jeon."

"Jiwoo Jeon?" The man repeated as he turned. He suddenly leaned forward and Jiwoo could almost swear he was squinting at her. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

Woo-jin slapped him at the back of his head. “Because I gave you her resume last week?”

The man rubbed his head. “I didn't read it. I was busy.”

“Whatever,” Woo-jin sighed. Turning to her, he said, “Ms. Jeon, this is Tae-hyung Kim, your new superior. He might not look like it but he is a very efficient and hardworking superior. Well, most of the time.”

While Woo-jin was introducing him, the man swept his hair from his eyes with his fingers. Black, piercing eyes stared back at her, narrowing until they were tiny slits.

“Have we met before?” he asked.

But Jiwoo could only stare.

“I love you,” Jiwoo blurted out, wringing her hands together.

A black haired boy stared down at her.

“I...” She swallowed and tried again, “I love you, Tae-hyung.”

“I-I don't think so, sir,” Jiwoo murmured, trying to tamp down the urge to flee, hoping the horror she was feeling wasn't showing on her face.

Tae-hyung frowned. Then he turned to Woo-jin and patted his shoulder.

“I'm leaving first,” he said. “Show her around while you're here, alright?”

“Damn it, Tae-hyung. I have a meeting in a few min - hey, I'm still talking!”

But Tae-hyung had already left the room.

Jiwoo stared at the door, her horror intensifying.

He was her boss.

Tae-hyung was her boss and she had to work with him and see him all the time.

Fortunately, he didn't recognize her. Unfortunately, she had to work with the man who was her first love and her first heartbreak.

“Come, Ms. Jeon,” Woo-jin grumbled. “I'll introduce you to the rest of the editorial department.”

Jiwoo stiffly nodded. Although she wanted so badly to quit right now, she couldn’t exactly do that. She’ll have to find a reason to quit. She’ll definitely find a reason.

She couldn’t stay here.

A/N:

Hello, hello! This is the K.A.R.D fanfic I was talking about. I’ll be updating this every two or three days I think. I have drafted 20 chapters so probably chapter 20 will be the last chapter.

Jiwoo Jeon - Jiwoo - colored Joker

Tae-hyung Kim - J.seph - Ace

Woo-jin - B.M - King

Somin - Somin - black Joker

I googled their real names so those names are what I used for the boys.

I didn’t actually plan for this to be a K.A.R.D fanfic but when the plot hit me and inspiration hit me, I was listening to their new song Don’t Recall and I thought it was a pain to think of new names so I just used theirs. Also, my plot was also inspired out of a yaoi manga whose title I forgot.

I really enjoyed writing this. Each chapter’s going to be short because I was thinking of making this like a 4-koma version of a story. Lol. It didn’t work obviously. Still, I hope you enjoy this fanfic. (*^▽^*)

#fic dump #fall for me again #k.a.r.d #fanfic #amwriting #writing blog

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thefaeriereview · 5 years ago

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Blitz: Second Priority

https://ift.tt/2BZQREo

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Second Priority (Priorities Series, Book 2)

Author: Este Holland

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Concept: The Write Designer

Release Date: June 12, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: Second Chance

Themes: Forgiveness, Redemption

Heat Rating: 4-5 flames

Length: 42 000 words

Buy Links - Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Sometimes it takes that special someone to open our hearts.

Blurb Riley My heart belonged to him the moment we met. Four years later and my feelings haven’t changed. Daniel Winters was closed off, unapproachable for anything but sex, and I refused to give in. I was—and still am—worth more than a one-night stand. But lately something’s changed in him. Something I can’t resist. And my heart is demanding it won’t be second priority any longer. Daniel The world is changing. I’m changing. It used to be my job was all I cared about. Getting a good story and telling the truth was priority. But now I find myself lonely, looking for something or someone to make my world bright. Someone like Riley. It’s been years since we first met, and I messed it all up. I’m not going to let him get away again, even if I do screw up occasionally. When a blackmailer interrupts our new life, I may stumble, but Riley will help me pick up the pieces. We won’t go down without a fight. Triggers: Alcoholism and drinking. Therapy sessions. Stalking. HEA guaranteed.

Excerpt “Where are we?” I asked, eyes ping-ponging from one side of the street to the next. “It’s the Art Walk.” Booths and tables lined the sidewalks, selling everything from paintings, to jewelry, to handbags. “Come on.” Riley smiled at my enthusiasm and led me to the first booth, then the next and the next. I bought a bracelet, and Riley got a bowtie just to make me laugh. We ate from a food truck and walked hand in hand, until Riley pulled me over to a building. “What’s this?” I took off my sunglasses. “A bookstore?” Riley eyed me warily. “Yeah?” I grinned. “You sure know the way to a man’s heart, Mr. Ellis.” Riley’s slight concern melted into a smile. “Let’s go.” The Last Bookstore was a cool place—huge and stuffed with books organized in different ways. Some sections were arranged by color. Art installation dropped from the ceiling, and a massive elephant head with tusks hung on the wall. Books curved in an arch from ceiling to floor. We took our time wandering around, showing each other interesting discoveries and laughing at each other’s choices. “What’s your favorite genre?” Riley asked. I read the back cover of a biography Riley had handed me. “Suspense. I like horror and mysteries, but suspense or thrillers covers a lot.” I put the book away. “What about you?” “I was more into movies, obviously.” Riley gave a small grin. “But I used to read comics when I was a kid. And I’ve read a lot of Old Hollywood biographies.” “Makes perfect sense.” I dragged him to a section with graphic novels, and we perused the shelves. I handed him a yaoi novel, and we had to stifle our laughter at the graphic sex scenes. “I never read those comics when I was a kid. I didn’t even know they existed.” “They’re big in Japan and South Korea.” Riley’s eyes lit, and he pulled me to another section. “Writing references?” I asked. “You think I need to brush up on my skills?” Riley shook his head. He pulled a book off the shelf and handed it to me. “On Writing by Stephen King.” I smiled. “I’ve seen this. It’s a hybrid autobiography and ‘how to write’ book.” Touched, I kissed him lightly. “I love this. I’m going to get it.” “Let me. I want to be a part of your book writing in some small way.” “You really think I should write a novel?” My eyes stayed glued to the photo of Mr. King with his feet up on a massive desk. “Only if it’s something you want.” Riley took my hand. “I think you’d be amazing at it, though.” I finally met his gaze, and I had to swallow the lump that appeared in my throat. “You’d be a huge part of it, Ry.” He smiled and lit up my whole world.

About the Author

Este Holland is a writer and reader of all things Romance. She's also a treasure hunter, a word wizard, a lover, and a fighter. She was born and raised in WV, and now lives in Virginia. She works in marketing during the day. She began writing novels in 2012.

Social Media Links

Author Page on Amazon

Blog/Website | Facebook | Instagram: @este.holland.writer

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#Blogger #book blitz #Contemporary Fiction #Contemporary Romance #LGBTQIA #M/M

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the-froggy-jester · 5 years ago

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Chapter 1

She looked around the student flooded entrance of UA high, the school where heroes were formed. There were people all around, but not a single familiar face. She looked up again, taking her time to take in the beautiful view of the high school she was about to enter. The warming sun hit her face, and she read the initials she had seen so often before once again, still not believing her light grey eyes. She wasn't dreaming, it was real; she was about to enter the building, even though she was 3 weeks late, and she was going to get taught how to be a hero by real pros. With a now determined look on her face, she turned her face to the actual doors, and entered the old, huge school. The second she entered, she already loved the sight. She took it all in: the view, the smell, even the atmosphere. She took it in her heart, as if it could be ripped from her at any second, and started moving again after a good minute. The hazelnutbrown haired girl looked for her classroom, and found what she was looking for soon enough: ''CLASS 1-A'', the sign above the door said. She took a deep breath, opened the door, and saw a class full of students her own age, just joking aroud. She imagined all of this to be so different; in the many, many sleepless nights she had, where most of her thoughts revolved around her new school in a whole different coutry, the famous UA high, she imagined how the students would be, and she always came to the same result: top-students, stern, determined to win, serious. But here they were, just joking around, laughing, one was yelling, he had his ashblond hair spiked away from his head, another one was staring at the girls who were giggling and laughing. She took a closer look at the little guy, and quickly noticed the deep purple ball-shaped thigs on his head. not wanting anyone to know she was staring, she looked for a seat, and luckily found one near the widow. It was a lonely little desk that looked like it was moved there on a short notice. She sighed, put her backpack down, took out her notebook and started writing.

The day just started, but this school is already way different from what I expected. There is not a speck of seriousness coming from most of the students, just laughter can be heard, the silent sound of gossip, and nervous shuffling of bags and paper. How much more different from my imagination can it get? Will the teachers be as nice as I thought they'd be? Is there anything like I expect it to be?

The teacher entered, the students went back to their desks, only the sound of moving furniture was breaking the newly earned silence. The teacher with long, black hair cleared his throat, uttered a >>Good morning, class.<<, and sat down.

>>Good morning, Mr. Aizawa!<< the students reply in unision. The teacher who seems to be Mr. Aizawa motions them to sit down, and turns his gaze to Mary, the new girl, the one in the back, sitting at the helplessly placed desk, with a notebook laying open in front of her. >>Alright<<, he raised his voice once again, >>we have a new student, as you might have noticed. Mary, would you come to the front and introduce yourself please?<< Mary obiediently stood up, made her way to the front, positioned herself next to Aizawa, and started talking. >> Hi. I'm Mary, I'm 14 years old, and I come from Germany, which is the reason for my accent and my late appearance. I apologize in advance for any wrong pronounciation, or grammar mistakes. I truly am trying my best to make my English understandable. I was accepted due to recommendation. Thank you for listening.<< And with that, she walked back to her seat. what the class didn't know, after they heard her little speech, was, that Mary had spent hours on end changing and perfecting those few sentences, because she thought the whole class expected her to sound as formal as an important business man. She felt a little awkward, having everyone stare at her like she was crazy for sounding like an adult, but she just contered their confused looks with a smile. Aizawa turned the attention back to him. >>Thank you, Mary. Now, let's starts today's lesson...<<

Mary was only half listening. She was passing her time by examining every student in her class. One stood out. He haid red and white hair, parted neatly in two halves. The right half of his hair was a brilliant white, the other side a bright red. There was a scar as red as the hair covering it partly on his left eye. Mary started to wonder. ''What happened to him? Did he dye his hair? How is that posible?'' Those were only some of the questions she had. When she finally let her gaze wander to the next student, he was already looking at her. When she met his eyes, he just winked, smirked, and turned back to the board. ''what... the actual.. Chinchilla?'' The boy had bright yellow hair, and a bolt on one side of his scalp. There was nothing too interesting, really, but somehow Mary still wanted to talk to him. Maybe to actually have a friend, maybe to ask him what she missed while she was gone, or maybe she just wanted to know why he did that. She never has been flirted with before, if that was even considered flirting. She had to admit, he did look kind of cute. And of course that means he's either gay, taken, or a racist. Since that was all there was to see about that boy, she turned her attention to a girl with.. pink skin? And horns?? Mary didn't believe her eyes. >>How is that even...?<< she started silently, but stopped herself, not wanting to draw any attention to herself. Only then she realized, that there was literally a bird person just chillng in his seat, taking notes. She couldn't wait for recess so she could ask all about their names, their quirks, and who was taken and who wasn't. Let's see, who actually looked like they'd have a partner. The yellow-haired one with a blot in his hair, the guy who had his long, red hair styled into spikes, the red and white haired one, that just seemed to have some kind of terrifying secret, the... wait a minute. Mary knew who he was. He was Endevours son, Shoto Todoroki! She read something about him in the news just a couple of weeks ago. No wonder she got that weird, secretive vibe from him. There were a lot of rumours in all of the internet about the father-kid relationships being all crazy and horrible. She could really relate to him to an extend. Mary's mother and father have been emotionally distant ever since she was old enough to do stuff on her own. At the tender age of seven she had to cook for herself, but that didn't stop her from being an absolute sweetheart to her friends. And although she would never admit it, she was a pure soul. Apart from the smut she has read throughout the last few years, she was as clean as the air in a forest, far away from humanity and polution. Yes, she was a bit of a pervert. But she was too shy to actually spy on someone. She wasn't afraid to flirt, though. Most people didn't take it serious when she flirted with them and laughed it off, so she has been single up to that day. When she was honest with herself, she knew that she really wanted to have someone to hold her close and listen. But who would take a girl like her? She asked that question a lot when she thought about relationships. That's why she didn't do that often.

Mary found it amusing how her mind wandered off all the time. It was like her brain was making a path on it's own, like it was trying to lead her somewhere, someplace special that might not ever be discovered by anyone else... unless she told the person about that place, that secret space where she can get lost in for hours on end, without anyone noticing she was even gone in the first place. She doesn't leave her spot, but is in a whole different world at the same time, a world where she can be herself without having anyone there to judge her, without any rules, without any boundaries. She could kill, kiss, and insult anyone as much as her heart desired. She lost count of how often she brutually murdered someone in her mind. And the fact that she could imagine anything pretty vividly just made the whole game better. Same goes for kissing and making out, and everything beyond that. But it was also a curse at times. Whenever some said: >>imagine if...<<, she immediately started imagining it. She had seen multiple people making out, and that was worse of an experince than it might seem like. Because it wasn't just people her age, it was also teachers, heroes, old people and even animals.

All of a sudden, she was ripped from her thoughts, by someone standing in front of her. It was a green haired boy with freckles and a bright smile. >>H-Hey! Mary, right? I'm Izuku Midoriya, but everyone calls me Deku!<< He extended a hand for her to shake. She took his hand, gave it a light squeeze, and smiled back. >>Yep! That's me! Nice to meet you, Deku!<< She shiftd the thoughts of death and brutal murder aside and made room for information about him. He was barely taller than her, had emerald green eyes, had really fluffy looking hair, and just seemed really adorable overall. Mary guessed that he was most likely gay. Which was definetly not a bad thing, Yaoi all the way, but she had a feeling that at least one girl had a crush on him. Speaking of girls, there was one right behind him. She smiled at Mary and held out her hand too. >>I'm Ochako Ururaka!<< she chirped happily. Mary took her hand, gave it a little squeeze too, and smiled even brighter than before. >>Mary! I'm looking forward to being in class with you two!<< she said friendly.

She inspected them, then bluntly asked >>Are you two a couple?<< Ururaka started blushing madly, and so did Deku. He was the first one to actually respond. >>N-No, we're just f-friends!<< Mary chuckled at their reaction. >>If you say so~<< she purred while smirking. Then she turned her attention to the bo from earlier. >>Hey, you two, who is he?<< she pointed at the yellow haired boy. >>Th-That's Denki Kaminari. He's part of the Bakusquad, unlike Bakugo himself really nice and outgoing, though.<< Izuku started. >>But he's kind of a flirt.<< Ururaka added. So that was the reason why he winked. He's flirtasious. Great, she thought. >>Hey, how about we introduce you to everyone?<< Izuku said, now calming down his blush. >>That'd be

great!<< Mary thanked him.

Everything went great, until it was her time to meet Bakugo.

>>End chapter 1<<

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