#senioritis is fucking real PLEASE have better time management than me

[spineless-lobster]

*rocking back and forth in a corner* this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass

[bbyjackie]

𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐃'𝐒 𝐆𝐅 — ♡

one piece social media + dating feat: kid

♡ liked by hey_its_heat, CAPTAIN.KIIIID and 2.9k others

_ynln: kid waiting patiently infront of the den den mushi

13 mins until the @/dominicfike album releases!!!

tagged: CAPTAIN.KIIIID

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: LETSS GOOOOO 🔥🔥

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: SUNBURN IS SUCH A BANGER

killerrr: no wonder it was so peaceful on the victoria punk

↳ _ynln: the only time kid isn't wrecking havoc, the fike effect!!

trafalgar_d.law: rare photo of eustass where his hair isn't radiating hairspray fumes (liked by p1rateking_luffy)

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: ITS ALL NATURAL

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: dont be mad that i actually take care of my hair

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: i can smell ur 10 in 1 from here

↳ p1rateking_luffy: HAHA Tra guy is write 😂😂

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: STFU YOU DONT EVEN SHOWER. YOURE A NATURAL HUMAN REPELLENT.

↳ trafalgar_d.law: omg strawhat please learn how to spell

↳ _ynln: PLEASE YOU GUYS ARE SO ANNOYING TAKE THIS TO THE DMS 😭

♡ liked by trafalgar_d.law, killerrr and 3.7k others

_ynln: kid refuses to share his lipsticks with me 😪😪

tagged: CAPTAIN.KIIIID

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: ew why would i want cooties from you

↳ _ynln: ive seen you eat pasta off the ground 😐

↳ hey_its_heat: puts you into perspective

↳ _ynln: WTF WHY AM I GETTING SHIT ON

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: YEAH CAUSE YOU LOSE THEM

↳ _ynln: IT WAS ONE TIME

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: I STILL WANT MY ROMAND#23 NUCADAMIA BACK

killerrr: simp 🥱🥱

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: how do i dislike a comment

lovenami: wtf why does he have a better collection than me

↳ _ynln: life is so unfair 😔💔

♡ liked by theroronoa.zoro, wirewirewire and 4.1k others

_ynln: i'll never shut up about this

thanks for the tickets loser <3

tagged: CAPTAIN.KIIIID, m.by__sana

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: thanks to yn im a certified once now

wirewirewire: YOU GUYS WENT TO TWICE WITHOUT US?!

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: imagine not being able to see the feels live 🥱🥱

↳ _ynln: kid wtf KFJWBHJDJ 😭😭

lovenami: HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO GET TICKETS I WAS STRUGGLING

↳ _ynln: IDK HAHA KID GOT THEM FOR ME

doflamingo_: I'll get you VIP tickets next time, hmu

↳ _ynln: im blocking u, you're practically a senior citizen

↳ trafalgar_d.law: wtf are u doing on her page?

↳ killerrr: when worlds collide.

↳ lovenami: yn take one for the team 🤞🤞

↳ heyl_its_heat: you’ll be remembered 🤕🤕☝️

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU DOING ON MY GIRL'S ACCOUNT

↳ p1rateking_luffy: 😆

↳ theroronoa.zoro: this is actually funny asf

♡ liked by killerrr, lovenami and 4.8k others

_ynln: im thirdwheeling my own relationship ☝️

tagged: CAPTAIN.KIIIID, killerrr

hey_its_heat: being self aware >>>

wirewirewire: THIS IS CRAZY LFMAOO

lovenami: GIRL ITS NOT YOUR RELATIONSHIP ANYMORE 💀💀

killerrr: bffr i was the one third wheeling, if i have to see u guys kiss one more time i’m ending it 😐😐

↳ _ynln: 😭😭

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: you woke us up cause u were bored and wanted to gossip

↳ _ynln: okay and you weren’t complaining when i was telling you all the new world drama 🤨🤨

↳ killerrr: how do you even know about all of it 😭😭

↳ _ynln: nami, robin, chopper and me have the best gos talks <3

↳ nicorobin: so real (liked by lovenami, ilovecottoncandychopper)

CAPTAIN.KIIIID 2h

[CAPTAIN.KIIIID] _ynln replied to your story: omg why are u being cute, what did u do

[cherrychilli]

Slip of the Tongue

A mini series I 18+ I Enemies to lovers

Chapter one

Eddie Munson, AFAB reader, neighbor! reader.

Reader and Eddie are the same age - she's in College and he's repeating his senior year once again.

Chapter Summary: You discover that Eddie's been practicing a very interesting new trick on his guitar, one which he offers to use on you under the guise of giving you some much needed stress relief.

A/N: Listen, series scare the shit out of me but I'm trying to challenge myself with a tiny one. I kind of already feel like I'm biting off more than I can chew but I'm going to give it my best shot.

Inspired by those clips of Steve Vai and Jimi Hendrix. ifkyk.

Chapter warnings: Nothing explicit this chapter. Some suggestive stuff but the real smut begins next chapter, so if you want more you better let me know!

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He's doing it again. Of course he's doing it again.

You tilt your head forward, forehead dropping into your hands. Heatedly, you mutter your annoyance under your breath, thumbs rubbing at throbbing temples and eyes squeezing shut when the music picks up to an ear ringing volume.

Eddie Munson took sick pleasure in riling you up – you were certain of that given how he only ever seemed to plug in his guitar when it was time for you to study your coursework, wrecking your concentration and making your temper skyrocket with a kind of ease only he was capable of.

For years, you’d taken issue with the fact that your trailer neighbored his own, your bedroom becoming an echo chamber for every blaring chord progression and heavily distorted guitar riff that strummed out from Eddie's open window.

And as always, you felt the need to make your displeasure known.

Abandoning your textbooks, you hastily shove your shoes on to stomp over next door. You knew from painful experience that it was best to head behind the Munson’s trailer and approach Eddie’s bedroom window than to pound on the front door, the sound of his playing almost always too loud for him to notice your knocking.

Trampling over the patchy, dry lawn that lay between your homes, you made your way across, rounding the corner and striding up to the open window, fuming with thoughts of what you’d yell at him this time when you caught sight of the metalhead.

As expected, he's rocking out in the center of his unruly bedroom. No doubt having tuned the rest of the world out, channeling so much of his wild, boundless energy into his playing.

His mop of dark messy curls aren't tied back today, allowed to sway, tumble and whip around his face as he played to an audience of some devilish looking posters and a couple figurines that stood on his crowded desk, probably a part of that fantasy game he's always going on about.

He's dressed in grey sweats that hang low around his hips and a ratty old band tee that tended to ride up, you couldn't help but notice.

‘At least he’s got clothes on today’, you thought to yourself mirthlessly, only a touch thankful for the silver lining of not having to confront him while he's shirtless or in his boxers again. Not that he’d ever minded you seeing him like that before.

Your last encounter with Eddie was one you hoped to soon forget, cringing because he'd caught your gaze wandering when you came over to reprimand him for the noise again, becoming noticeably distracted by his bare chest and the tattoos adorning it.

You don't know how it happened, only that you fell into a sort of daze when your eyes slipped lower to follow the slope of his pale tummy, leading to the sparse trail of dark hair which thickened below his belly button and disappeared underneath the waistband of his boxers.

D'you want a picture or something, darling?, he'd quipped, growing even more pleased with himself when your face turned hot and the embarrassment of getting caught had you stuttering out the first thing you could manage.

"F-fuck off, Munson", you spit back and retreated awkwardly, the sound of his barking laughter as you did so ringing in your ears long after you made it back into your room and hid underneath your blankets for a good hour.

Yeah, that was hard to live down. As was trying to expunge the image of Eddie's unclothed torso from your mind.

Most times he could anticipate your arrival, like a lightning storm only he could forecast but this time he hasn’t seemed to noticed you yet, tongue pinched between his lips in concentration while his fingers travelled skillfully over the ebony fretboard of his guitar.

Watching him play like that sometimes made you think that if he hadn't plagued you for half your life with all of his antics, you might have admitted that he was good musician - that he had talent most people didn't care to acknowledge and maybe even go so far as to say that you found it impressive that he’d managed teach himself how to play in lieu of any lessons.

But you weren’t about to sing Eddie Munson's praises. Not when he was seconds away from making you pop a vein.

Taking a deep breath in, you prepared yourself to start the unpleasant cycle of bickering with your neighbor once again, hoping against hope that, at the very least, it'll be a short exchange this time.

“Ed-"

You meant to catch his attention with a single shout but the heated call flattens on your tongue in an instant, heart beat kicking up as you watch what he does next.

He lifts his treasured Warlock and you're half afraid for him when he casually flips the front of the instrument towards his face, its angular design and jagged edges enough to worry you even when he played on it the regular way.

But it's when his tongue stretches out, long and slick like a serpent, that things start to feel...hazy. Speechlessly, you stare as he slides it along one of the guitar's six strings, following the length of it from near the bottom of the fretboard while his left hand continued to flit over the strings by the neck, creating harmonics in a way you’d never thought was possible before.

Are my palms sweating?

The sound begins to shift again and your eyes bulge when he slides his tongue back down, flicking and picking the guitar strings by the tip of it with more speed and dexterity than you'd thought was possible, his fingers continuing to move seamlessly to hold down every note.

Eyes closed (and there was no chance of you letting that happen) there was no way you could've told the difference than if he’d been playing with his fingers all along, the sound just as sharp and crisp as as every time before.

It's filthy, bordering on vulgar the way he’s moving the silky pink muscle so expertly, so much so that it makes you feel like you're intruding, peeping in on something that only happened behind closed doors.

But that gnawing feeling isn't anywhere near enough to make you stop looking. Your gaze stays planted firmly on Eddie's mouth, the sight making your head crowd with static and your belly swirl with heat. Your thighs had been clamped together too, you realize, a sickening realization dawning over you when they rub together, registering the dampness pooling between them underneath your skirt.

Oh my god…am I w-?

And just as abruptly as the realization had sunk in, the song ends. Deafening silence returns to your shared corner of the trailer park when Eddie sets the guitar back down to hang by the strap fixed over his shoulder, eyes flicking to you as if he'd known all along that you'd been standing there, gawking at him.

"So, what do you think? pretty good, right? been working on it for weeks", he pants out, chest rising and falling softly with each labored breath.

Somehow, this feels so much worse than when he caught you staring the last time.

With luck, you're able to shake yourself out of your trance like state, round eyes narrowing in preparation to berate him as originally intended

"Fucking hell, Eddie would you keep it down? I'm trying to study!", you agonize, scrambling to find your fury again.

But your tone doesn’t seem to bother him, it rarely ever did. So he leans through the open window, elbows resting on the window pane, eyeing you up and down all amused.

"You look stressed", he observes, and it's the flippant way in which he does it that ticks you off, with the kind of lopsided smile you’d often described as annoying. For the most part because he’d almost always done something to that effect before flashing you one.

"I am", you confirm with an acidic glare, hoping he couldn't tell how frazzled his little performance had left you.

"And you're not helping so knock it off"

Turning on your heel, you're desperate to retreat back to your place for a reprieve, heart hammering inside your chest when he calls out to you again.

"I could help you relax, y'know"

The way he says it makes you pause, like he's about to let you in on a secret.

Your skin prickles with goosebumps. "I'm not buying weed from you Eddie", you answer back over your shoulder, trying to look unimpressed as you attempt to turn him down.

"I wouldn't charge", the boy winks at you without missing a beat, undeterred by your cold attitude and you hate that his persistence makes your face feel hot.

"But that's not what I was going to suggest"

"Oh?"

You turn around to face him again, intrigue building.

He takes a moment to scan you thoughtfully, brows furrowing, almost as if he's weighing the outcomes of what might happen if he were to continue.

"You liked what you saw, right?", his brown eyes flicked down to his guitar and back up to you in quick reference to what you were hoping to avoid.

The mention of what you'd witnessed him doing with his tongue brings that hot, sticky feeling sitting at the base of your stomach back in full force, alarm bells ringing in your head.

"What does that have to do with anything?", you ask cautiously, realizing a second too late that you’ve only confirmed his suspicion.

"Well..."

Eddie curls a finger up at you, rings glinting in the sunlight, beckoning you closer and for some reason you actually oblige, stepping up to his window until you’re only a foot apart from one another.

Low and throaty, he whispers to you. "I can do a lot more with my tongue than just shred on my guitar", flicking the muscle salaciously between his lips like a viper ready to strike.

It should revolt you, watching the crude gesture courtesy of the bane next door, the implication behind it enough to make your skin crawl.

So why doesn't it?

Why does it make you want to leap at him and close the distance between the two of you, hungry to feel his tongue against your own?

"You're disgusting", you tell him instead in an attempt to deflect, voice wavering through the lie.

But he's too astute to be fooled now. "And you like it", he counters easily.

"So are you going to cut the bullshit and climb in here or what?"

You stare at the hand he holds out to you and before you can think to just walk away, before you can pull yourself together and stifle the roaring fire inside lapping at your bones, your fingers have found their way to his.

[theprettynosferatu]

CONTENT WARNING. NO, FOR REAL, READ THIS FIRST.

This story contains strong themes and graphic non-consensual sex. If you feel they might affect you adversely, skip this one.

Andrea is being tormented in college by a bigoted popular girl. Her daddy has always helped her... maybe he can help her get some justice...

CW: Incest, non-con, SA, orientation play (F-straight to bi)

I - No Expiration Date

She felt ridiculous. She probably looked ridiculous too, sitting against the wall, grabbing her knees, almost shaking, all in the middle of the hallway. Most made a point to not look at her, rushing to their classes, their dorms or wherever the hell they needed to be with such haste. Well, Andrea knew they only rushed because of her, to give themselves a plausible excuse to avoid doing the right thing and checking up on the poor, weird girl hyperventilating on the ground.

The worst part was that Andrea knew she shouldn’t let it get to her. If anything, it was Kate that should be ashamed of herself, not Andrea- fuck, to say such things in these days was almost quaint in its ignorance, and if Andrea chose to make a stink, grounds for expulsion. Would it be considered a hate crime? Maybe. But going up to the dean or whoever like a poor little victim felt so… humiliating. Perhaps more so than Kate’s constant, whispered words and stories. And some idiots actually listened to her! 

Andrea supposed that was the big perk of having a rich, connected daddy. Even the most moronic and bigoted statements found an audience eager to please, if only for the unspoken promise of future gifts, recommendations, networking opportunities. Shit, even the dean might sweep the whole thing under the rug just to please her family. Andrea could feel the rage building up inside her chest, making her almost sick. Part of it was the stench of injustice that surrounded the whole deal. But most of her anger was directed at herself. It wasn’t as if any of this was new to her: she had come out in highschool. Every insult and every joke and every slur had been thrown at her a thousand times over already. 

But… college was supposed to be different. Even the teachers that saw the abuse in her younger years had told her so. It will get better. You’ll get out of here, and in college all this will be a distant memory. That hope had kept her going even as everyone forgot her name and simply called her “The Dyke” her entire senior year. But those were kids. Kate was a fucking adult. And yet, bigotry seemed to have no expiration date.

Fuck. The bullying wasn’t even fucking accurate! Andrea had been openly bi for years, but apparently the nuances of sexual orientation were irrelevant when it came to making one person the butt of every facile joke, a stepping stone to get some sweet, addicting attention. And Kate loved nothing more than attention. Good, bad, who cared? As long as the spotlight was on her, whatever hole she had in what she called a soul was temporarily filled. Fucking go to therapy, you cunt! Did daddy not hug you enough? Used dollars as a substitute for affection? Boo-hoo. It didn’t justify a goddamn thing.  

Andrea took a deep breath and managed to get up. Her Social Psych lecture was about to start, and Andrea knew she would skip it, even if she tried to fool herself for a moment, to force her legs to walk towards the classroom. Step by step, she headed for her dorm room. Fuck. Another absence. Kate was even fucking up her academic life. But what could Andrea do? Go to the professor and explain that, sorry, I couldn’t make it because the rich girl made fun of me?

She threw herself on the bed with punishing force. A miniature form of self-harm, she figured. Sometimes she hated majoring in psychology: that little voice that analyzed her actions almost made her feel like she was performing her suffering, rather than feeling it fully. And that distancing might also be a defense mechanism. Well, shit. How does one turn their brain off?

Andrea felt a pang in her chest, a familiar longing for home. Sure, it wasn’t a perfect place and money was always tight. Sure, her mother had vanished when she was barely one year old. Sure, the old place was in dire need of repairs and an update. But it was home. Of course, she knew she was lying to herself by omission. She was trying not to think of the one person that made it a home, and inevitably, in trying to suppress the idea, it came to her twice as strong. Daddy. Her father was her home, and it made her feel childish, helpless, as if she was ten and running to him whenever things went poorly. That her mind still went to him filled her with shame.

Oh, bullshit. You know damn well why you don’t want to think about him.

She couldn’t tell when it had happened, exactly. It had been something slow, growing inside her, indirectly pushing her subconscious. If she looked back at her dating history, a pattern emerged, one hidden at the time but blindingly obvious in retrospect: similar to dad, similar to dad… and then, when an errant comment by a friend (“All I’m saying is, like, for an old guy… you’re dad is kinda hot”) opened her eyes, she swerved in an attempt to escape her feelings. Different from dad, different from dad… The problem with “different from dad” was, of course, that those guys were, well, different from her dad. 

The summer before college had been the worst. She did her best to be home as little as possible.

Before she knew it, twin emotions were boiling over inside her. The first made her feel sick to her stomach, made her muscles tense up, made her breathing shallow and quick, as if she was about to leap and bite some animal’s neck. It was rage, pure and shining, clad with the garment of a righteous need for justice. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fucking fair. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. That fucking bitch. She needs to suffer. She needs to be punished. She needs to fucking learn some humility. And at the same time, the second feeling snuck up on her, traveling in the shadow of the first, mingling with it until they became one, like snakes mating. Dad. She needs to suffer, dad. Make her suffer for me. Please. Please, daddy. Do this for me and I’ll… 

Andrea snapped back to reality, horrified. She moved her hand from between her legs, not even knowing when she had started playing with herself. Fuck, she was soaked. Shame almost brought her to tears, until Kate’s sneering face popped back in her mind. She had endured enough for one day. She had earned a little bit of fantasy. Just that. It wasn’t as if she’d ever do anything about… well, anything. But she could imagine, couldn’t she? She wasn’t that much of a coward- she could dare to imagine Kate, and dad, and… 

Fuck it. Who cared if it was wrong. She needed release.

Andrea let her hand go back between her legs.

II - The Call

Mike found himself staring at his phone. His morning coffee had gotten cold, but he took a sip anyway, almost as an automatic action. He couldn’t stop playing the conversation back in his head over and over.

“Dad, I’m on my way. I need your help. I… I’ll explain…”

“Andrea, are you okay? What happened?”

“I… I’ll be there in about an hour. I kinda… I don’t want to talk over the phone. Dad, I… nevermind. We’ll talk when I get there.”

And that had been it. No clues, no hint, nothing to guide him except the tone in his daughter’s voice. She was scared, and she was suffering, and that was all that he needed to know. Whatever it was that was harming her girl, he’d move Heaven and Earth to make it better. That much he knew, deep in his heart. Still, he couldn’t stop picturing the worst possible scenarios.

He tried to remain calm. Sexual assault on college campuses is… 

Mike pushed the thought away.  

Restrictions on reproductive rights have…

Snippets of news stories slapped him. The world could be a terrifying place for a young woman. But that was why they had chosen a college close to home. So Andrea could always come to him if she needed help. And she clearly needed help. Stay focused, old man. She needs you to be strong. Don’t let her see you panic. 

He needed to be strong for her. That was all he always wanted to be, more than anything: a rock, a place of stability, a North Star for the one thing that mattered in his life. They had faced the world together. They had survived poverty together. They had endured the pain of an absent mother and wife together. They had managed a retrograde high school that tormented Andrea together. She had saved his life as much as he had fostered hers. Without his girl, Mike wasn’t sure where he would be- perhaps underground. She had been the reason to dig deep, to find strength, to endure, always. 

Don’t let her see you panic.

Don’t let her see you looking at her.

He shook the intrusive thought off. Andrea needed him, not his fucked up neuroses, not the secret shame the last months of living together had awakened in him.

One hour stretched into a year, and Mike practically leaped out the door as soon as he heard the car pulling over. The first thing he noticed was his daughter’s panicked face, and that alone was enough to make his heart feel like it was about to burst out of his chest. The second thing he noticed was the other girl, passed out in the passenger’s seat. Andrea rushed into his arms, and he held her tight, trying to will some degree of peace into her mind. First things first.

“Are you okay?”, he asked.

“Yes, I’m… I’m fine.”, Andrea sobbed.

Good. Now to do what he did best: fix things.

“Ok, so, your friend…”

“She’s not my friend.”

“What did she take? Did you take anything? Look, I’m not… I won’t get mad, I just need to know what she may have taken… is it just booze? No, couldn’t be… Benzos? Or… Christ, I don’t know what you guys take these days in college…”

“Dad! She didn’t take anything!”

“Are you sure? Maybe she went into some bathroom and did something… okay. First things. We need to call an ambulance…”

“Dad, please! Listen to me! I’ll explain everything. But we need to get her inside before anyone sees-”

“Andrea, this girl is passed out! She needs medical attention! Who knows what-”

“I know what she took because I gave it to her, okay? She’s just asleep! And she should be asleep for… maybe another couple of hours. Daddy, please… I swear I’ll explain. Just help me get her into the house, okay?”

Mike felt dumbfounded. The idea that his Andrea had roofied some other girl was so distant from his image of her, from the girl he had raised, that the contradiction felt impossible to resolve. It was a paralyzing feeling, one he couldn’t entirely put into words. All he knew was he didnt like it one bit. He was a man of action. He needed to do things, more than ponder feelings. And the thing to do, if only to escape that horrid sensation, was to get the poor girl out of the car.

They dragged Kate into the house, and laid her down on Andrea’s bed- a task that, Mike noticed, his daughter undertook with less care than he would have liked. Back in the living room, he looked at his daughter and put on his best stern face. Stern was good. It hid other ideas that came into his mind when he looked directly at Andrea.

“Explain.”

Andrea broke down in tears.

“Daddy, that girl… Kate.. she’s… she’s making my life Hell! She tortures me every day, makes fun of me, spreads rumors about me… people think… I don’t even know what they think about me anymore. So I can’t make any friends. Just like high school. It’s the same damn thing! And they all said… you said college would be different! But it’s not! Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I’m just… I don’t know. Broken. Maybe people can smell I’m weird, or weak, or… and they know they can abuse me and mock me and… It’s not fair! And I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t thinking straight… I just put a couple of pills in her tea, and… I freaked out. I needed to feel safe, and I feel safe here… with you.”

Mike took it all in. He had to admit the sight of his precious daughter in such despair was enough to pierce any ideas of being tough he might have. And yes, it wasn’t fair. The world wasn’t fair at all. Andrea was beautiful, smart, creative… but there would always be those people who couldn’t understand someone being different, loving who they loved, being their authentic self. He got the anger. He got the frustration. He hated that Andrea had been driven to this point. But there was a big thing to address.

“Honey… I know… but you can’t just… just… kidnap someone!”

Andrea couldn’t help herself. She ran into her father’s arms, and hugged him tight.

“Daddy… I didn’t know what to do. I…”

She went silent. Mike couldn’t find the words to console her, to lecture her, to say anything at all. All he could do was feel the warmth of her body pressed against him, intuit her soft curves, take in the smell of her shampoo, her skin. It was intoxicating, and for once he let himself feel… whatever it was he was feeling. He let himself enjoy the moment, and even the sleeping girl in the bedroom seemed to fade away from his consciousness. They simply lingered, holding each other, taking it all in.

Such a moment couldn’t last. It shouldn’t last. Mike forced himself to speak, to say… whatever he could muster.

“What… I don’t know what you expect me to do…”

He felt Andrea’s hands on his back holding him tighter. He felt her warm breath on his ear, sending shivers down his spine as she whispered before the words even registered in his brain.

“Daddy… please… fuck her for me. Fucking rape the cunt… show her her place. Daddy… break her with your cock. For me.”

III - Persuasion 

Andrea couldn’t tell exactly what happened to her, what shifted within herself in that embrace, what damn had finally broken in her mind. Even as her father pushed her away with a horrified look on his face, she could see him- almost as if for the first time. A veil that had been dulling her sight for so, so long had finally vanished. Yes, she saw everything so clearly now, with such simple purity, devoid of fear or shame or silly excuses. It was a bizarre sensation, to finally be able to accept without doubt or hesitation the truth, so long buried.

She wanted to fuck him.

He wanted to fuck her.

So obvious. So simple. So powerful. Andrea wasn’t going to run away from it anymore. And she could see, under the mask of horror worn by her father, beneath the shock in his eyes, something else. Stirring. 

Suddenly, Andrea felt powerful. Immense. Sexy. In control. The fact that she had become one with her secret desires and he hadn’t brought a predatory joy to her chest… and something else, both an anger and a need. In her heart she could see not just what her father was but what he could be, what he could become, what he needed to be. She could almost smell it- the strong, conquering Man suffocated by the dull veneer of morality and social norms. Yes, she felt powerful- but she didn’t need to be strong. She needed to be taken by him. She needed to bring the beast forth, somehow. To make him see himself as she saw him. To make him see her as she wanted to be seen.

She smiled inside, even as her father almost recoiled from her. It was all a game, now. One she intended to win.

In the blink of an eye her entire demeanor, her posture, the way she looked at her father shifted. For a second she was the perfect picture of innocence, of a young woman in need of rescue.

“Daddy… please… I need your help. Won’t you help your little girl? I promise I’ll be good. I’ll be so… so good to you, Daddy. I’ll be your good little girl. Your obedient… slutty… little daughter”, she smiled as she took one step towards her father, her body now swaying like a cat slowly approaching its prey. She took a moment to delight in the confusion in her father’s eyes, the tension increasing almost to a breaking point.

“I… what are you…”, managed to mumble Mike. Oh, it was so pathetic it became cute.

“Daddy… you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me recently? It must be so, so hard for you… to see your little girl all grown up, and you all alone… that’s not fair, is it?”, said Andrea as she closed the distance with her now paralyzed father. Oh, this was too much fun. “You have been a bad daddy in your mind, haven’t you? That sounds so painful! Knowing it’s soooo wrong to think about your little girl like that… having to pretend you don’t want to… Fuck. Your. Daughter. Oh daddy, don’t blush! Surprised to hear such naughty words coming from my cute mouth? Or… do you like me having such a potty mouth?”

Andrea, in a swift motion ran her hand over her father’s crotch. Yes. She could feel it. So hard. So warm. She was right. He was breaking.

“Feels like your daddy cock likes me talking like a dirty slut! Don’t be ashamed! I love to imagine your cock getting so hard for me… I love to know I can make it so, so happy… And only using my words! Just talking like the hopeless little fucking whore I am… for you… just knowing you can use my tight holes whenever you want… however you want… and I’ll take it like a good girl! I am your good girl, daddy. You made me, after all… you own me… you can own every inch of my slutty, smooth body…”

Suddenly, she took a step back, her eyes almost in tears. She was the very picture of anguish, of despair, of vulnerability. Mike opened his mouth to speak, but he found no words came to him. He just watched, fighting his need to hug her, to protect her, to tell her he would make everything right again.

“Daddy… I’m so sorry… I don’t know what got into me. I just feel so confused, so disoriented, and… I don’t know. It’s like I have all these feelings inside me and they get all mixed up and I can’t really tell what I feel anymore, and it hurts so much. It hurts, Daddy. And that girl… Kate… I can’t tell you how much she’s hurt me, how she has been messing with my mind and making me so miserable… and… and I guess, I’m not sure, just… I thought you could help me, Daddy. You always could help me. You always could make me feel like everything would be okay, that I wasn’t a freak, or…”

“Honey, you are not a freak! You know this. You’ve been so brave, so strong, so true to yourself, even when everyone gave you grief over it!” He couldn’t help himself anymore. He held his sweet girl in his arms.

“But I… I did a bad thing, Daddy. I brought Kate here… I couldn’t think of anything else to do to make her stop, to make her leave me alone…”

“I know. And yes, you did a… wrong thing. But that doesn’t make you a monster, or evil or anything like that, okay? We’ll… I’ll find a way… I’ll help you. I’ll… fix it, somehow.”

“Will you rape her for me? Will you punish her with your cock for hurting your little girl? I’ll be so, so good for you if you do it, daddy… I’ll be the bestest daughter ever for you!”

Mike tried to pull away before he was interrupted by the sensation of warm, soft lips on his own. Time stopped. He felt dizzy, trapped in the feeling, the scent of skin, the rush of adrenaline in his chest. He panicked as he realized he didn’t stop it in time. He didn’t stop it as time stretched. He wasn’t stopping it even as the thoughts flooded his mind. It took Mike every ounce of willpower to push his daughter away.

Oh, it was so fun to see her Daddy so confused, so aroused, so disoriented. But Kate would wake up soon. Andrea needed to land the killing blow on whatever resistance her dear dad had left.

“I’m sorry Daddy… it’s just that I love you so, so much…” One slow, seductive step towards him. “I was bad, Daddy. I shouldn’t have done that, right? Does that make me a bad girl? A bad daughter?” Another step. So close now. “I’m so, so sorry for being bad, Daddy. I’m sorry I made your cock all hard for me and teased you and used all those dirty, dirty words. Will you punish me, Daddy? Will you make me good again, show me my place? I think you should. I think you should take your cock, and-”

One final step, and Mike snapped. For the first time in his life, he slapped his daughter. Horror set on his face, and it became a mixture of bewilderment and fire when he noticed Andrea’s reaction. She was smiling.

“Mmmmh… so strong, Daddy. Do it again. Punish me. Show me you own me. Make me your bitch!”

It was over for Mike. Something primal, something awful had taken hold of him. 

His hand on her neck. Hers rubbing his cock over his pants. Her soft moans. Kisses that turned into bites. His own mumbled, jumbled words. Little cunt. Evil fucking bitch. Her words, playing off his. Your little cunt. Your good little girl. Her face against the wall. Her movements, grinding her ass against him. Her hands on his chest, pushing him back. 

So many lines crossed. Mike knew, deep down, he had broken something inside himself. Or maybe she had broken it in him. It didn’t matter. He looked down at the beautiful, perfect woman kneeling and smiling. He saw his daughter, yes, but his eyes were now different. The barrier that kept the idea of “daughter” and “sex” apart simply didn’t exist anymore. He felt adrift, caught by a whirlwind he couldn’t stop- one he didn’t want to stop. 

Victory. It looked like victory. Victory over herself, over her old fears. Victory over his attempts at doing the “right thing”. Further victory to come, as well. And it didn’t hurt that the cock that made her was a rather large one, veiny and beautiful. He tried to keep herself in check. She knew exactly what to do, which went against everything her body was screaming for her to do. No matter how much she needed to feel that cock deep inside her pussy, no matter how much she longed to taste his cum on her tongue, she would have to wait. She couldn’t risk some post nut clarity throwing further objections to her plan. She kept her mind on Kate as she licked, kissed, loved his member. She was alert, ready to stop before he went over the edge. She did let one hand slide between her legs- just a treat, and a bit of a show for Daddy. She took him deep in her throat, deeper than anyone she’d ever blown. He deserved it. He was her one true love. 

She did manage to stop herself when she felt him getting close, heard his moans getting stronger.

She stood up and simply, gently, gave his Daddy her soaked hand for him to smell. It was a promise of the pleasures to come… if he did as she asked, as she needed him to. She could see it in his eyes. He had been unleashed. Andrea smiled, and with a moan sucked her fingers clean, keeping her green eyes fixed on her Daddy’s gaze.

Punishment would finally come to the one that had wronged her.

IV - Melody of Madness

Slowly, Kate started to regain her consciousness. It was a gradual thing, messy, disoriented. The first thing she noticed was a scent- the kind of smell that tells one they’re no longer home, but in a place inhabited for years by some unknown Other. Her body felt heavy, sluggish, weighed down. She wasn’t afraid, not at that point. She was too out of it to register such an emotion.

Only when her vision cleared a bit and her body started to feel more like her own did the true horror begin. She tried to remain calm. Okay, Kate. Just… try to figure things out. You’re in a bedroom. A girl’s room, judging by the decor. Shit, did you get wasted again? Wait, no… a room, yes, but not a dorm room. Bigger than the dorms. Oh, fuck. Did I party in town? Did I black out and some random girl decided to help me?

A part of her screamed. Assuming that this was just another regrettable morning after too much liquor was only a pleasant delusion, and she knew it. As painful as it might be, she would have to face another possibility. What was the last thing she remembered? She was getting up, ready for class… then she was picking up her morning coffee… a bitter taste, more than usual, and then… nothing. 

Kate needed to get out. Wherever she was, it was not where she wanted to be, that much she knew. She’d have time to figure things out later. First, get out of bed, and then…

She couldn’t. She was bound to the bed by improvised ropes made of sheets. Her legs were open, held in place. She noticed the way the air felt on her skin. She was in her underwear. This final fact froze her for half a minute- thirty seconds that felt like an eternity. 

Finally, she screamed.

“Shut the fuck up, or things will get very, very messy for you. And I don’t want to ruin my sheets, thank you very much.”

The voice was calm. Cold, yet expressing a hint of anticipation. And it was a voice Kate would never have expected to hear in that place, not in a million years.

“Andrea?”

“Oh, I’m ‘Andrea’ today? Are you sure you don’t mean to call me one of your usual nicknames? No ‘dyke’? No ‘carpet muncher’? No ‘cunt licker’? Isn’t it interesting, how something as simple as a little bit of metal and a few sheets are enough to teach you manners?”

Metal? Kate lifted her head as much as she could. There was Andrea, holding a knife. Shit. Shit. Shit. That little, insignificant bitch! And what was it with the outfit? Black lingerie, full face of make-up, devilishly sharp stiletto heels… Kate had never seen the stupid dyke looking anything like a real woman. Huh. So she had curves hidden under her usual baggy hoodies. Good for her. But she was still a fucking loser, and Kate knew how to handle losers.

“What the fuck are you doing, you crazy bitch? Let me go, now! What the hell are you thinking? People will hear…”

“Oh, don’t make a sound. I don’t want my father to…”

“Really? You brought me to your own home? You really are that stupid, huh? Let’s see what your dad thinks of his dyke daughter when she sees what you’ve done! Help! Sir, please! In your daughter’s room!”

Steps stomping outside. A man entered the room. Finally. Victory! Now the crazy dyke would get what was coming to her, and Kate would have a brand new story to bury the little cunt’s reputation even further. Maybe even hold the possibility of jail over her head.

“Andrea! What the hell is this? What are you doing?”, the man said, suitably shocked.

“Daddy! I’m so sorry! I… I just…”

“Didn’t I tell you to let me know as soon as she woke up?”

“You did. Sorry, Daddy. I’ve been a naughty little girl… will you punish me later?”

“Later, yes. Now we have work to do, don’t we, baby girl?”

“Yes we do, Daddy!” she chirped before giving in to a long, deep kiss with the man.

What. The. Fuck.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”, laughed Andrea. “Did you think he would help you? Kate, Kate… Ignorant as always. For one, I’m not a dyke, I’m bi- not that you care, but I figured a little education can’t hurt. And another thing about me: I have the bestest Daddy in the whole world! And my Daddy would do anything for me, because I’m his perfect, slutty good girl… and he’s very, very good at training good girls! Well, maybe ‘training’ isn’t the right word. How about… ‘breaking’? You know, like a horse! And we’ll make you such a good, good girl!”

Panic set in.

“Crazy! You’re both fucking crazy!”

Kate squirmed, a scream dying in her throat as Andrea crawled on the bed, swaying like a terrible feline, giving her dad a marvelous show. She lightly touched the inside of Kate’s thighs as she made her way up… before flashing the knife in front of the poor captive’s eyes.

“If I were you”, cooed Andrea, “I’d be very, very still for this part.”

Kated hated that her body seemed to instinctively do as the fucking dyke told. She froze, every muscle locked tight. She closed her eyes, and prayed to no deity in particular. Please. Please. Make it stop.

Kate shuddered as she felt something cold barely grazing her, almost between her legs. Terrible images flashed inside her mind. I might die here. A second later, she felt air caressing her private areas. She opened her eyes, only to see Andrea’s mad smile as she held the remains of Kate’s panties in her hand, skillfully cut off her body. 

“Not the sexiest of panties, I must say. I’m a bit disappointed! But…” Andrea brought the panties to her nose and took a deep, gratifying sniff. “There’s something alluring there. Oh! You’ve never had the pleasure of smelling a nice cunt, have you? No, you’re so very, very straight… you’d never do that, right? Well, you’ve been missing out. Time to fix that.”

Andrea carefully, almost lovingly, tied the panties around Kate’s face. Every breath now was an assault, a reminder of how powerless she was. A humiliation.

“Better get used to it, you stuck-up slut. You’ll be tasting the real thing soon enough. But…” Andrea leaped off the bound body of her foe. “What am I thinking? You’re straight! So, I take it you’d enjoy a big, hard cock more than my… dyke attentions, won’t you? Well, how about some Daddy cock? Won’t you love that? I know you will.”

Andrea skipped, child-like to her father. He was watching the scene before him, almost panting. A beast ready to be unleashed.

“Look!” chirped Andrea. “He’s so, so hard for you already! You should be flattered! Well, no point delaying the inevitable, I say. Ready to feel this big cock ramming into that tight pussy, you bitch?”

“No… no, please, don’t… I’ll… I’m sorry for… for everything! Please, please, please…”

“A little late for that, you evil cunt! Now get ready to be used like the fucking cumrag you are!”

Kate tensed up and shut her eyes hard enough to make them hurt. She braced herself for pain, for agony. She tried to somehow make her mind escape somewhere, anywhere else. Wasn’t that something that happened in these situations? Some sort of protective dissociation? And yet her mind was nailed in place, as stuck to the bed as her body. She waited, shaking… and nothing happened.

“How rude of me!”, mocked Andrea. “I almost made my daddy take that pussy dry! That would hurt a lot! I could help with that situation, you know… but you’re not a filthy pervert like me, that likes cock and pussy alike… so… I have to say, I’m a bit conflicted! Wouldn’t want to make you a dyke against your will! But you can choose. Dry or dyke? Huh? Too shy to speak now, you cunt? Answer me! Dyke. Or. Dry.”

Kate couldn’t believe her ears. An image of the knife flashed in her mind. Fear took hold. Feel of pain, primal, deep. The promise of less pain seemed like an imperative, and her mouth spoke before she could stop it.

“Dyke…” she mumbled.

“Sorry? I couldn’t quite hear that”, saud Andrea.

“Dyke! Dyke! Dyke, goddamn you!”

“She’s out! She’s loud! She’s proud! Welcome to the club, sister! Now relax and let me introduce you to a brand new world…”

It felt gross. It felt odd. Kate tried to reframe it. It’s just lubrication. It’s just making it easier for later. It means nothing. It’s just a tongue. It’s just…

Andrea was good. Extremely so. She took pride in her oral skills and was using all her talents, all her tricks on Kate. Not because she wanted the little bitch to feel good: simply because she knew that pleasure would make her suffer as much as the pain to come. Every involuntary thrust of Kate’s hips, every muffled moan that escaped her lips was a step towards conquest… and Andrea felt like a warlord, like a terrible goddess exacting just revenge…

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” she giggled. “But we can’t have you cumming like that… not when dear Daddy has been so, so patient!”

Fear crept from beneath the disgust Kate felt with herself. A part of her had enjoyed it, and she hated herself for it. Her body was starting to betray her, and that, more than anything, was terrifying. But now the pain would come. She knew that for a fact.

“Daddy, my sweet, sweet Daddy… break the cunt”, said Andrea.

“Please… don’t…” managed to mutter Kate.

It was in vain.

It did hurt. The man was a beast, savage, thrusting into Kate without the slightest care for her pleasure or comfort, using her body like an object to take out all his messed up frustrations, his fantasies, whatever was mixed up in the storm inside his brain. Kate whimpered and yelped and tried not to scream. And in her ear, a warm breath, whispering to her constantly.

“Good girl… won’t you cry for me? Like you made me cry so many times? You fucking slut… don’t fight it… you know what you are, deep down… don’t you miss my sweet tongue on your cunt? Relax… let it happen… you deserve this… and I’ve earned it… your pain… and what you will be for me later… when the pain is gone…”

Part of her mind was aware enough to realize Andrea was rubbing herself right beside her. But most of her mind was focused on the sensation between her legs, the burning, the feeling she was being torn apart… and something worse, slowly creeping its way into the strange mixture assaulting her consciousness. Andrea saw it immediately.

“It’s better now, isn’t it? You can feel it… it’s okay. You don’t have to lie. Not to me. We are sisters now, after all. I, made by the cock that is remaking you! It’s so… poetic, isn’t it? You are a slut. You’ve always been a slut, deep down… all you needed was someone to prove to you that a slut is all you need to be. All you deserve to be. No more queen bee at college for you! And I know you will be such a good little girl for Daddy…”

“Fuck… fuck you…”

“Oh, you’ll get to do that too! Want a taste?”

Andrea started slowly, kissing Kate’s neck, nibbling it, giving her victim goosebumps. Then she delicately removed her bra, and lips met sensitive skin. Kate’s nipples, hard against her will, were assaulted by kisses, suction, skillful licks. Andrea toyed with Kate, varying the pressure, the speed of her tongue, inserting playful little bites into the game. Measuring. Learning. Deciphering every preference, every weak point. To Kate’s horror, the pain was starting to feel duller, as if coming from far away. The pleasure, on the other hand, was sharper, demanding, a hungry thing coming from her own traitorous body. It was hard to think. Hard to keep any single idea in frame inside her mind. Too many stimuli, coming from too many places, attacking different parts of her idea of self. She felt as if she was drowning in sensation.

Andrea made her way down, slowly, as her father’s thrusts became a bit slower. Stamina wasn’t infinite, but she was quite confident that together they could get the job done. Together, they could do anything. It took a bit of careful positioning, but soon the tip of her tongue was able to tease the little cunt’s clit and even give her dear Daddy a little extra lick when he pulled his beautiful cock out, only to ram it into Kate again. Oh, if only this moment could last forever. Father and daughter locked eyes for a moment, in something that felt like a twisted perversion of love. It was time to move on to the next step.

Kate couldn’t stop squirming. Couldn’t stop moaning. Couldn’t stop her fucking body from reacting to the big cock inside her, the tongue playing her pussy like a violin, her own shame turned into a corruption of pleasure, disgust with herself that swirled and shifted and somehow enhanced the feelings that were eroding her sanity. And then, it snuck up on her.

Kate came, harder than ever in her life. Any pretense was undone at that moment. Her body was too honest. But the fucked up father and daughter team didn’t stop. No, they paused for only a second or two before resuming their work. It was too much. Kate shook as she came again. And again. And again.

She was exhausted. Too exhausted to fight anymore. Too confused to protest anything Andrea said. Her words just permeated, unfiltered, into Kate’s mind.

“...tell you? You can be such a good little whore… and we can be Daddy’s sluts together! Don’t you think he deserves it? His cock made you cum so much… your pain gave it so much pleasure… it owns you now. And you’ll love it, I know you will. We’ll make you love it so, so much, until you forget what a fucking bitch you were before…”

Kate didn’t even notice when the restraints were removed. There were stronger ones in place now, and she could feel them. Inside her head. She had been defeated. She had been conquered. She had surrendered.

“On all fours”, Daddy said. He didn’t have to say it twice. Kate complied. 

“Word on campus is that your little ass is the one hole you’ve been saving up for someone special! Well, I say you’ve met someone very special! So now Daddy will take the last bit of you and you’ll finally be entirely his! Isn’t that exciting? But… what about your poor fellow slut? I mean, I gave you pleasure too! I say I deserve a treat. So… you get pain for Daddy and he gets to watch you eat a pussy for the first time! What a show it will be! And we’ll make it a show, won’t we, sis?”

Yes. Whatever Andrea said. It was easier to comply. Easier to obey. Easier to just accept. It would hurt. Good. If her pain was what they wanted, they would have it. She would have sex with another girl. Good. If they wanted her to dyke out, she would. 

Kate’s screams sent vibrations through Andrea’s pussy, only making Kate’s inexperienced attempts at eating her out so much more delicious. Andrea felt like a queen, being serviced as she deserved. Mike was a beast, finally letting out something that had been suppressed in shame for far too long. Kate let her body take over, turning even pain into something else, something like purpose, or atonement. In a single day, all three had changed. Forever.

The tight, virgin ass, paired with the spectacle of this girl pleasuring his sweet little girl sent Mike over the edge. He barely managed to pull out before cumming with an intensity that shocked even himself. Kate’s back was soaked, and some drops had even landed on his own daughter’s breasts. 

Andrea licked her lips.

“Kate… sis… why don’t we clean each other up for Daddy?”

V - Epilogue

Mike woke up to the sensation of tongues on his cock, as was the norm. He let himself relax and sink into pleasure. To think that half a year ago, the idea of even looking at his daughter had felt revolting! How silly he had been. They loved each other. They made each other their best versions of themselves. Their most perverted versions. 

And Kate… how lovely it had all been. Sure, it had taken a little while for her to fully enter the family, but now she and her adoptive sister were inseparable. They went shopping for slutty outfits, they did their camshows together to make Daddy money… they had even made out in front of the Dean when they announced they were dropping out of college to be full-time whores. It was tender, in a way. Kate’s addiction to pain and humiliation had come as a bit of a surprise, but a welcome one- especially by Andrea, who had started to explore her sadistic side more and more.

Of course, they both adored Daddy. They were always ready, always willing to please him. After far too many years of gray, dull effort and solitude, Mike felt happy. He let himself enjoy that fact.

After he came, the girls licked each other clean, moaning as they savored their Daddy’s cum. With bright smiles, they leaped on the bed with Mike.

“Good morning, Daddy!” they said in unison.

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Every bit helps!

[dayacakrawala]

Why I don't like MTMTE Tailgate

At first I liked his character arc due to its fridge horror. See, a young bot with a freshly ignited spark, ready to hop on a big adventure and see the world with wide-open eyes... and he just trips, and he falls, and he wakes up to find himself transformed in his bed into a monstrous vermin into a fossil who missed all of the world-shuttering events. History is made, the world is now full of heroes of all sorts: Optimus, Ultra Magnus, Rodimus, even Whirl's made a name for himself. And in this realm of heroes Tailgate is nobody. Senior Shit Manager.

James Roberts dangled the carrot with the "Tailgate learning about the factions" plot, I was so ready for him to learn about the complexity of war, its causes and effects. And what I got? Autobots good, Decepticons bad, my ass. And even this gets thrown outta the window when it's Megatron's time to be the good guy. Yeah, it's just a minor plot in the complex narrative, I wouldn't complain if Tailgate himself was likeable.

He's not. Tailgate lacks qualities that I personally find endearing or charismatic, both in real and fictional personalities. He's just annoying, his naivety ends up merged into narrow-mindedness.

And holy shit, how MANIPULATIVE he is. He shamelessly manipulates Cyclonus into a romantic relationship with him. Cyclonus, whose traumatic experience includes being mind-controlled and made to, by his own words, hurt Cybertron. Keep in mind, Cyclonus is the biggest patriot their civilization has ever know, I can't imagine how much pain it caused him, all because of being manipulated. 

Tailgate causes an enormous clusterfuck of problems by letting himself be drawn into Getaway's scheme. Because of what? Because Cyclonus refused to date him and share his innermost energon! And what happens after Getaways's mutiny when Tailgate somehow gets away (lol)? Cyclonus shares his innermost energon so the damned fool can get his fill and STOP screwing it up. And what does Tailgate do? He wears it like a fucking bibelot and BRAGS about Cyclonus now being his boyfriend like it's his thesis defense in pickupology and nothing more. That's gross, man.

Yeah, Cyclonus may have a neglected case of emotional constipation and a fear of intimacy. So what? Does it mean he must be forced to open up and be dragged into an exclusive relationship when he's not ready? He clearly has a thing for Tailgate, he's in love, but what Tailgate does is abuse it. 

James Roberts, too, loves Tailgate. He gives him new superpowers, some spotlights even though what I found interesting to explore about Tailgate is lost. Characters that I find more likeable got killed off, their arcs aborted, and this "fandom marshmallow" stays to annoy me. Thank you very much.

I can't deny how important Tailgate is for Cyclonus, both story and character wise. Cyclonus loves him more than anything, and he gets better through this love. It's Cyclonus' side that works a miracle, so I don't find Cygate a complete waste of comic book ink, even though it makes me cringe. So, outside of the comic, Cygate is my NOTP, I prefer to avoid it in my reading and, since I write, my writing. It's a little sad how much fan content is not for me because of it, but there's still plenty that amuses and pleases me.

[gnabnahc317cb97]

Once is All it Takes

Kim Seungmin x Female reader

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY! This is VERY vanilla for me! Strong language/cursing, Fingering, piv sex (protected), I'm pretty sure that is literally it as far as sexual content goes. Other warnings include vomiting, minimal talk of accidental and unwanted pregnancy and sma-smor-shion. If any of those topics can be triggering for you, you may want to skip this story! As always if I forgot to mention something in the warnings, please let me know and I will add it!

“Fuck.” When you saw the pink plus sign you were in utter shock. You closed your eyes and you had almost convinced yourself it wasn’t real, that you had seen it wrong, but when you looked again and you again saw the indicator that you were in fact pregnant, you started to cry. You wished that it was just the hormones or tears of joy but they were not. They were tears of uncertainty and fear and heart ache. It’s not that you didn’t love your unborn baby’s father, no, on the contrary you were madly in love with him and had been for some time. The problem with that was that the father, and man you were in love with, was your best friend Kim Seungmin.

You never in a million years thought that something like an accidental pregnancy would happen to you. You were so careful. You were on the pill and you had used a condom but when you got sick every morning for two straight weeks and your period was late you thought you would take a test just to be one hundred percent sure you weren’t pregnant. Yet there it was clear as day. You were one hundred percent knocked up.

The small town you and Seungmin both grew up in had a lot of people who had nothing better to do than to gossip and they didn’t particularly care for things like premarital sex, having children out of wed lock and God forbid someone even consider saying the words casual and sex in a single sentence. People that did those things, generally, were shunned in the little community and all you could think about was that could be you and Seungmin now.

The two of you together, it had only happened once, but they always say one time is all it takes. You were clearly proof of that. You and Seungmin had been studying, of course you were, that’s all either of the two of you did as the prodigies of your families, toiling away at college to make something of yourselves for different reasons but both to make your families proud. You understood each other in a way no one else did because of your rolls in your families as well as growing up in the same town, even though you had not grown up together.

You sat there with Seungmin at the table you would always post up at in your studio apartment for your study sessions. You were stressed and beyond frustrated with an equation you were trying to factor but failing time and time again. Finally, when Seungmin thought you were going snap your pencil into pieces, he stepped over and leaned down to look at the formulation you had been using. As soon as he was in your bubble you were calmer, he was always warm and you were surrounded by the smell of his cologne and something that was just, Seungmin and it put you at ease instantly.

“Look here.” He pointed to your page and snapped you back into the moment before you were too far gone thankfully.

“You have these parts inverted flip them and try again.” You picked up your pencil and scribbled down on your scrap paper how Seungmin had told you to do it and he couldn’t help but lean in and smell the sweet strawberry scent your shampoo left behind while you worked the problem.

“I’ll be damned! This isn’t even one of your classes. You’re pretty good Minnie!” He tried to get it together and managed to laugh softly. He took his glasses off, looking at you now instead of the work page.

“I... uh I took this course my senior year for extra credits.” Of course, he did. When you looked up from your work again you realized Seungmin was still leaned in very close to you. When your eyes locked, he seemed to go deep into his thoughts. Like he was analyzing something, calculating, just like he’d done a moment before when helping you.

“Min-” Suddenly Seungmin’s lips captured the cupid’s bow of your top lip between his in a soft kiss. It was gentle and quick, but it wasn’t a timid kiss, more exploratory. When he pulled away he looked at you, his ears were red and he was calculating again, his eyes flickering between yours and your lips as he tried to read your reaction.

You had been in shock for about ten seconds before you grabbed Seungmin’s collar and gently pulled him towards you, kissing him again, this time with more behind it. His hands cupped your face as he deepened your kiss further. Things were getting more heated by the second until you were a clash of tongues and teeth. You pulled away and pressed your forehead against Seungmin’s. You bit at your kiss swollen lips as you softly panted and caught your breath.

“Do you have a condom?” You whispered and Seungmin, who had also been a little breathless from the kiss, almost thought he’d misheard you. His eyes went wide, completely surprised to hear you ask but he swallowed hard and shook his head.

“Uh, yea, yes I do.” You stood up and ran your fingers through his hair, his eyes closing at the touch and you pulled him up into another kiss. Your kisses were so sweet to start and then you’d lose yourself in Seungmin just like you were doing again right then. You started to back up towards your bed, Seungmin following, his hands glued to your waist, his fingertips kneading the sliver of exposed flesh, teasing the waistband of your pants. You parted only to pull your shirt off and started working at the buttons of Seungmin’s shirt as he peppered kisses down your neck and shoulder. Once his shirt was open you ran your hands over his shoulders and down his arms, removing the article of clothing from him and letting it fall to the floor.

You pulled away and sat down on your bed, crawling back and laying down. Seungmin got the hint and climbed on top of you, continuing his trail of kisses from before, traveling down your collar bone and chest until reaching your breasts that were covered only by a lacey white bra that did nothing to hide your perked nipples from him. He bit at his lips as his fingers toyed with the edge of the cup of your bra, the tips sending goosebumps erupting all over your body when they grazed your skin.

“Is it okay if I take this off?” You shook your head.

“Please Min...” You were already so overwhelmed by lust, writhing under his gentle touches and soft kisses. He freed your breasts from the cups of your bra and squeezed them together before he gently started licking them, taking one of your nipples into his warm mouth and tenderly sucking on it. He gave your breasts a great deal of attention which after a while had you absolutely soaked for him and that’s when one of his hands started moving down further, towards the buttons of your pants. He flicked one open slowly and then the next and the next. You lifted your hips urging him to remove the clothing from your body.

“Off... god please Seungmin take them off of me...” Seungmin obliged and removed not only your pants but the cute matching pair of white lace panties you had already drenched with your arousal. When Seungmin looked at you laying there he almost stopped breathing at the sight of you, legs spread and your glistening core exposed to him, your breasts spilling from the bra he’d pulled down but not off, his dick twitched in his pants. He cupped your mound. The air had been cool when your wet cunt was exposed and his warm hand felt like heaven against you. You shivered at his touch.

“You’re okay? Is this okay?” You were so needy already, you weren’t sure if you really needed much foreplay but if Seungmin wanted to touch you, you weren’t going to deny him.

“Yes Min, touch me.” With your consent his fingers ran through your folds collecting your essence before he started massaging your clit with two fingers coated in your juices. Between the feather light kisses Seungmin was placing against your burning skin and his fingers deftly moving over your sensitive bud, it took next to no time for him to send you spiraling into your orgasm.

“Oh... Oh my god Seungmin! I-I'm...” You could hardly form words but Seungmin knew and gently worked you through the peak of your climax.

“That’s it... good... just like that, you’re so pretty when you cum y/n.” He whispered against your skin. When you floated back down to the planet you pulled him in for another kiss.

“I need you Seungmin, please?” He nodded a little. He was relieved you weren’t going to try and jerk him off or blow him, he was already painfully hard and he was worried if you tried to touch him that he might cum before anything actually happened. Seungmin stood up and removed the rest of his clothing and grabbed the condom he had stowed away in his messenger bag ‘just in case’.

When he climbed back on your bed, you spread your legs more and Seungmin slotted himself in between them, then started to open the condom. You watched as he took it out and started to roll it down his length. His hands shook a little and it made you feel a bit better knowing he might be a little nervous too but then one of Seungmin’s hands softly slid up your thigh and he started slowly pushing into you. He was thanking God for that condom at the moment because if he had gone in and felt your soft velvety walls raw, he for sure would have cum on the spot. When he fully buried his cock in you, you let out a little gasp.

“You okay?” You shook your head quickly.

“Yea, just... mmfeels good. Keep going please?” Seungmin nodded and gave you a small smile.

“You feel good too.” He breathed out. You ran your fingers down his cheek and pulled him down, capturing his lips in yours for another tender kiss as he started setting a quicker pace, his hips snapping into you harder and the sounds that you made were music to Seungmin’s ears.

“Yes, God... right there Min, please! RIGHT THERE!” Seungmin proceeded to fuck you harder, hitting that spot that sent megawatts of electricity buzzing through your body and yet it all felt so intimate. It wasn’t that it was gentle or slow, he wasn’t afraid to use a little force behind his thrusts but the way his body stayed close to yours and his hands caressed your face and touched your hair, the soft kisses against your lips as he fucked you deeper, the exchanging of breaths between tasting each other. You whimpered his name, the pleasure of having him inside you, on top of you overwhelming almost.

“Please Seungmin, want you to cum with me.” He pressed his forehead against yours and drug his fingers across your jaw, then drew his thumb over your bottom lip as he looked into your eyes and continued fucking you. You took his thumb into your mouth and sucked, swirling your tongue around it.

The action lit Seungmin’s fuse like a firecracker. He removed his thumb from your mouth and started to rub your clit, thrusting harder and faster, rolling his hips and sending you sailing into your second orgasm. When your walls started squeezing and pulsing around Seungmin’s cock he couldn’t take it anymore and came, riding out your climaxes and filling the condom.

“Oh, fuck! Oh my god y/n! I’m... I... I’m coming!” You pinched your nipples as your hips chased his, milking him fully until he started to soften inside you. Almost immediately after, when Seungmin rolled off you to get rid of the condom and clean up a bit, it was like the air in the room had changed and there was definite awkward tension. When you were both putting your clothes back on, he still said next to nothing and couldn’t look you in the eyes. As soon as his shoes were on his feet he rushed out with a quick excuse and goodbye. You were a little hurt and very confused.

You didn’t see Seungmin for about a week after that. You missed him, you had most of your classes together so it was a big void in your day without him there. You wondered when he did show up if he would ever speak to you again or if you had completely ruined your friendship by being so bold and crossing that line. All he had done was kiss you. You were the one that brought sex into it, asked about a condom, maybe you had over stepped.

Finally, after about six days, you saw Seungmin approaching you before your morning class. He looked like he was steeling his nerves as he walked up with a coffee for each of you, he looked like he had something to get off his chest. You were terrified of what he might say, your heart was in your throat. Once he got in front of you though he saw your expression, the worry, he just stopped. All that certainty left him and he just looked at you silently holding the two cups of coffee. You needed Seungmin in your life, he was your only real friend, others, were acquaintances at best. He was the only person that understood you, you couldn’t lose him. You wanted to at least save your friendship if you could. You wanted to give him an easy out.

“Hey. Uh, been feeling under the weather huh? Missed you this week.” Seungmin’s frozen expression finally broke at your words. His eyes got wide. He started to nod and gave you a tight smile as he handed you the coffee he’d gotten you.

“Yea, yea. I... I was feeling sick so you know... stayed home. I’m better now though!” You gave him a small, sad smile when he took the out you gave him, which pretty much told you exactly what you needed to know in terms of what Seungmin wanted to do about the awkward situation between the two of you.

“I’m glad you’re better Min, we should probably get to class.” Swallow the pain, act like it never happened. So, you did and now there you were in your bathroom holding a pregnancy test crying, trying to figure out what to do. Do you just take care of it, get an abortion and never tell Seungmin? Maybe, you weren’t sure if you could when it came down to it.

Adoption? Surly you would have to tell Seungmin then? You were certain in adoption a biological father had to sign off on that. Aside from that, again, when it came down to it you weren’t sure if you would be able to go through with that and you would never want to get some poor woman’s hopes up just to change your mind. Nope, definitely not that then.

Do you leave and have the baby, raise it alone? Your family would be disappointed but they would help you, you would still be ostracized by your small town and it would certainly get back to Seungmin that you had left school and run home because you were pregnant.

You had to figure it out, your options were limited and each seemed like a worse idea than the next. There was one common denominator in every single outline you went over in your head. You were never going to tell Kim Seungmin that you were carrying his baby. Whatever you chose to do, you weren’t going to ruin his life too. He had worked too hard to get where he was for you to destroy that with a baby bomb.

Even though you two had grown up in the same small town you and Seungmin hadn’t met until you both went off to college, the reason for that being that your family was, at worst, considered upper middle class and Seungmin’s family, at best, was pay check to pay check, blue collar. He worked so hard to get the scholarships he was awarded to make it into your school and had to work even harder to maintain his GPA to keep them.

You, yes, had worked hard for your good grades, enough to be accepted to your school and you maintained an impressive GPA but your family paid your tuition. If you failed you would be okay, but if Seungmin failed he was destined to go back to a life he didn’t deserve and you couldn’t take that chance, you couldn’t take his future away from him. The day after you found out about the baby you decided to skip your lectures. After your first missed class you got a text from Seungmin.

It had been four days. You had missed four full days' worth of classes and had not responded to any texts or calls. When you had said you weren’t feeling good again Seungmin got worried and now with each passing day a pit continued to grow in his stomach. The last couple weeks you had been having issues with a bit of a stomach bug. You had been looking pale, on the verge of up chucking whatever was left of your breakfast usually, but he always made sure to say something about how nice you looked. Sick or not it wasn’t a lie he always thought you were pretty and he was trying to make you feel a little better when you so clearly felt like crap.

Even being sick though those last couple weeks you had still been going to class, refusing to fall behind. Now you were missing classes, a lot of classes. After four days, even though you had expressly told him not to the last time you had spoken, Seungmin needed to check on you. So, after his last lecture of the day he went to the convenient store and got you two bowls of your favorite instant ramen, a ginger soda, and then headed towards your apartment.

When you heard a knock at the door you knew there was only one person that it could be. You sat there on your couch under a throw blanket where you had been watching k dramas the last few days, crying and puking. It seemed the first trimester was intent on kicking your ass from the start. When the knocking persisted, you got up and went to answer the door. When you opened the door Seungmin saw you standing there with a blanket wrapped around you. You looked like you hadn’t been sleeping well and you were even paler than you had been the last time he’d seen you.

“Hey Min; what are you doing here?” Seungmin held up the bag from the convenient store.

“Well, I hadn’t heard from you so I wanted to make sure you were okay. I brought you notes from our classes this week and I got you some ginger soda and ramen.” You smiled at the sweet gesture, your heart breaking a little more.

“Thanks Minnie.” You went grab the bag from him and he pulled it away from your grasp.

“Let me come in and make it for you and you just relax.” You shook your head.

“No Seungmin really you don-” Seungmin put a hand up stopping you.

“Just let someone take care of you a little huh. Go sip on that ginger soda and let me make you 3-minute ramen. It’s not that big of a deal.” You sighed heavily but let Seungmin inside and went to sit on your couch while he made his way to your kitchenette and started your noodles. When your ramen was done Seungmin brought it in and sat down next to you. You started to blow on the hot noodles you had pinched in between your chop sticks and Seungmin couldn’t help but stare at your lips. Lips that he’d kissed, lips that had been pressed against his skin. He quickly looked away towards the tv and saw the k drama you were watching.

“Ahh you’re watching without me!” He said jokingly. You quickly chewed the bite of noodles in your mouth.

“Sorry, I’ve just been trying to keep myself distracted.” You took another big bite of your ramen and Seungmin, without thinking, pushed some stray hairs back from your face as you ate.

“Why do you need distracting?” He was being so gentle with you and then you realized what you had said. You looked at him and as soon as your eyes met it hit you.

“I’m gonna be sick Seun-” You couldn’t even get the words out before you were clasping your hand over your mouth and running for the bathroom. Seungmin was right behind you trying to make sure you were alright. You thankfully made it to the toilet before every bit of the ramen you’d just eaten came back up. Seungmin rubbed your back as you hunched over the toilet and dry heaved when nothing was left in your stomach.

He was trying to look anywhere but where you were puking. Seungmin’s eyes scanned the bathroom walls and floor and eventually landed on the trash can by your toilet. At first, he saw the box the little tests came in and then, face up, as plain as day, a pregnancy test and a very obvious pink plus sign staring back at him. His hand remained on your back but stopped rubbing.

“y/n... are... are you pregnant?” You looked up at him wiping your mouth, eyes wide and full of tears from puking. As you were about to deny it, Seungmin leaned down and pulled the positive pregnancy test from the trash can and looked into your eyes with the most serious expression you had ever seen plastered to his face.

“DON’T lie to me. Are you pregnant?” His voice was gentle but stern, he expected an answer, an honest answer. Tears started to well up in your eyes and you shook your head yes.

“It’s mine?” You hesitated and Seungmin didn’t need an answer.

“We... we used a condom; didn’t you say you were on birth control?” Seungmin was trying to process the situation and he didn’t mean for that question to come out like it had. Your eyes fell, still filled with tears and you slumped on the floor feeling utterly defeated and alone in that moment.

“I am. I was but nothing like that is ever one hundred percent. You don’t have to worry about coming up with reasons it might not be yours though, I don’t expect anything from you. I wasn’t even planning on telling you. I’ll take care of everything.” Seungmin’s heart broke hearing how devastated you sounded.

“I didn’t... I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that. Why wouldn’t you tell me? No matter what decision you make I would support you; you know that right?” You buried your face in your knees and shook your head no and Seungmin thought he couldn’t feel worse.

“That day, after we... you left, avoided me, I knew then, you didn’t want anything more than friendship from me. So, I just followed your lead and pretended like nothing happened no matter how much it broke my heart. Then a few days ago I found out I was pregnant and I just couldn’t ruin your life Seungmin.” Tears were starting to streak you face again. Seungmin almost interrupted to console you but stopped when he realized you had more to say.

“I already made my decision. I’m keeping the baby but I know you don’t want to be with me and I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t want Min. I’m gonna tell my parents I’m pregnant and then I’m gonna drop out and stay with them until I save some money and have the baby and you will stay on your scholarships and focus on finishing school instead of a mistake, no hard feelings.”

He had been wrong; he could feel worse. You had formed this image in your head about the way he felt about you and it was his lack of spine and his lack of communication with you that lead you to believe that you were a mistake to him when you were anything but. He knelt down in front of you, getting at eye level.

“Stop. Stop, stop. First off, if you want to keep the baby, WE’RE keeping the baby. You didn’t make a baby on your own and you sure as hell aren’t raising one alone. Oh, and you’re dropping out over my dead body. Jesus Christ a combined GPA of 8.2 and we both communicate our feelings for shit. I’m sorry for the way I reacted after we had sex. It wasn’t because I was disinterested in you, quite the opposite. I have been in love with you since the day Felix introduced me to ‘the girl that was from my town’.” You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Everything just kind of happened so quickly that day and it all felt so right to me. Then I didn’t think I could stay without confessing everything about the way I felt and I was scared you might not feel the same, so I left. It took me six days to figure out what to do and I had decided I was just gonna tell you everything but when I walked up you looked uncomfortable and then you acted like nothing had happened. So, I just did the same.” You sat there with your mouth slightly agape unable to speak for a moment.

“You-You’re in love with me?!” Seungmin shook his head matter of factly but you looked down, picking at your nails as tears continued to rim your eyes and fall.

“I... I love you too Seungmin but that doesn’t change the fact that having a baby with me will destroy your life.” You cried harder and he grabbed your hands trying to comfort you.

“Why is it okay for only your life to be derailed? Why do I get to forgo responsibility when you don’t?” You grabbed his shirt and shouted.

“Because you have more to lose!” Seungmin gently grabbed your face with both hands and made you look at him. He looked you deep in your eyes, his staring back, dark brown and seemingly endless.

“You are the only thing I’m scared of losing y/n!” He pressed his lips against yours. When he pulled away, he had never looked more determined.

“Having a baby with you, even unplanned, will not destroy my life and I won’t let you let it destroy yours either. If you give me a chance, let me prove I can be your partner and support you through this. As a formality I have to reapply for my scholarships every year and I can update them on any changes needed to accommodate my schooling, including family housing.” You couldn’t believe how easy he made it all seem. He had known about the baby for less than thirty minutes and he had already had a concise plan that made perfect sense that kept the both of you enrolled in college. You threw your arms around his neck.

“Seungmin I love you and that big beautiful brain of yours!” You kissed his lips and he laughed as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Here I thought you wanted me for my body.” You laughed as you wiped your tears away and swatted at him. Seungmin pulled you close and grabbed your hand, kissing the back of it.

“So, a baby...” You curled up close as he wrapped his arms around you, neither of you caring you were both still on your bathroom floor and you nodded.

“Yep, a baby. How do you think your family will take the news?” You didn’t know much about his family dynamic so you were curious about what kind of reaction to expect.

“As long as I’m happy they’ll be happy. My mom and dad weren’t married when they had my older sister so it’s not so taboo in our home. What about yours?” You scrunched your nose a bit.

“Well, they aren’t going to be happy about it when I tell them at first but once I mention you’re from our town and they meet you they’ll be okay.” Seungmin smiled and squeezed the hand he was holding onto.

“It will be okay y/n. No matter what we’ll get through it together.” You nuzzled up against his chest, humming in agreement when you were suddenly hit with another wave of nausea. You sat up quickly ready to go for the toilet.

“I wish you could get through this morning sickness for me, the kid doesn’t like anything I eat!” You managed to get to the toilet again before you started heaving and Seungmin resumed rubbing your back and holding your hair away.

“Sorry beautiful.” When you stopped again Seungmin leaned down by your belly as you rested your head on the cool toilet seat and he whispered.

“Hey take it easy on her, you’re gonna get us both in trouble.” You laughed and shook your head.

“Oh, the havoc I can see you two causing already.” Seungmin smirked and grabbed a washcloth wetting it with cool water and running it over your face.

“We’ll try and behave but no promises.” Seungmin shrugged his shoulders as he helped you up from the floor. You rinsed your mouth and then he helped you to bed. When you laid down, he climbed in and held you, resting his head on your chest. As you started to doze off Seungmin leaned a bit closer to your tummy again.

“Thanks for whipping me and mom in line, I can’t promise it’s the only time you might have to do that but I do promise I’ll always do everything I can to make sure you and mom are happy and safe, alright?” He placed a soft kiss against your tummy and settled back to rest when your voice broke the quiet again.

“I love you Seungmin.” He nuzzled up against you squeezing you a bit tighter.

“I love you too y/n.”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

[norabrice1701]

Play with Matches sounds interesting.

My dear @frmagpieao3 - thank you so much for the ask! ❤😊 Always lovely to hear from you and I appreciate you taking the time!

Play With Matches is an idea that will likely manifest in a different fic than where it's starting... but the general plot and a rough-draft conversation have landed on paper. This is born of my inexcusable crush on Sam Neill in the Reilly, Ace of Spies show where he plays the real-life secret agent inspiration behind James Bond - this gent, Sidney Reilly:

[Warnings for below the cut: M/F sexual content, explicit language, talk of death]

Play with matches, and eventually… you get burned. Such is the challenge in the business of time travel. 

You’ve risen through the ranks from Junior Observer to Senior Explorer in Time. You command a top historical research position, taking months to prepare for each journey in everything from language to culture to the subject of study. And one day, you're assigned the study of Sidney Reilly, the so-called greatest spy in history with a legacy shrouded in rumor and myth.

You first intercept him in 1905 during an undercover assignment in a German shipyard. Posing as a shop girl, you begin your observation and study - but despite your subtle, discrete actions, he still notices you. It sets off every alarm bell that you know about time travel - rule number one is never interact with the subject of study - so, you play your interest in him off as flirtatious attraction (how better to distract him and hide the the truth about your presence?). But the chemistry that sparks between you is surprising and undeniable - to the point that the charade spins beyond your control, and you're all too willing to let him ruck up your skirt, to moan in his ear, to wrap your leg around his backside as he fucks you in a quiet alley.

Of course, it breaks every rule you know - and as you continue to jump through the preset points of his life, your paths continue to intertwine, and you hate the fire he stirs in your blood, the affection he stirs in your chest. You've underestimated his cunning, his intelligence, his ability to manipulate and maneuver - and he finds you out. Rather, he catches you with technology that shouldn't exist in 1910, and you've already fucked up enough, so why not confess the incredible truth about your time traveling presence?

But now, there's nowhere to hide - and you don't know what repercussions are waiting for you in your own century - so, you write him a parting letter before making your final jump. You tell him to forget you and to never speak of anything he learned from you. And you mail it to reach him after you've already left, except....

The sharp knock on the door makes your blood run cold. Abandoning your trunk, your heartbeat quickens as you step towards the door. You hope against hope, already dreading who stands on the other side. Wetting your top lip, you draw a sharp breath. “Who is it?” 

“Sidney.” His familiar voice comes clipped, tight with an undercurrent of restrained displeasure. 

A traitorous flutter warms your chest even as your face falls. The letter you sent him is supposed to spare you this final meeting - you’ve already broken so many rules and each time you interact with him just… fuck. 

How have you managed to royally fuck everything up this bad? 

“Let me in.” His voice carries the command with deadly calm. “Please.” 

You bristle with indignation as you sigh and square your shoulders. Reaching for the lock and key, the door opens on its silent hinges to reveal his smartly dressed figure. No matter how many times you see him in his tailored suits, starched collars, crisp ties and dashing hats - it’s a sight that you never tire of. In fact, you’re almost sad to return to the modern fashion of your own century, but there’s nothing for it. 

You’ve already lingered too long. You’ve let yourself get too carried away. You’ve jeopardized everything. 

His handsome face is disconcertingly neutral as he regards you for a moment before stepping through the open door. Your throat tightens as you close the door and your heart hammers against your ribs. “I misjudged the timing of my letter, it seems.” 

“Quite.” He says as you turn to face him. “But that implies that you intended to leave without saying goodbye.”

“For fuck's sake, Sidney.” You don’t restrain an eye roll as you push away from the door and head back to the trunk in your bedroom. “The letter is my goodbye. We have nothing else to discuss.” A scoff of disbelief leaves your lips as you shake your head. “There never should have been anything for us to discuss in the first place.” 

“You have no one to blame but yourself for that.” His voice follows you over the soft thud of his footsteps. “Or did you think that I would be fooled so easily?” 

“It was never about fooling you.” You shake your head again as you open the bedside table drawer and pull out the leather case within. “It never has been.” Turning around, your gaze inadvertently meets his and sparks ignite in your blood. 

His eyes pin you in place with fierce intensity, as if he can see straight through you to the very essence of your being. “But that is why you were sent here, is it not? To observe and record my movements… to spy -” 

“I’m a historian,” you cut him off with a shrug. “And yes, I understand that this is your world - that this is your present. But this world, this year - this is my past. And it’s hardly spying when your story is already written in the public domain.” You sigh, turning your back on him and setting the case inside the trunk. “I know where you’re going to be next year, in the next two years… for the rest of your life, in fact - and none of it is confidential. So you tell me - how is that spying when I’m confirming what I already know?” 

You can practically feel his eyes burning through your back and a thrill of victory runs through you. Without waiting for an answer, you walk over to the wardrobe, opening the door with a soft creak. 

“Except you don’t know everything.” He says with a quiet, self-assured tone. “Otherwise, why waste your time when history is full of so many other mysteries? Furthermore, you owe me nothing yet you still took the time to send a letter." His words send a pang through your chest that you don't want to acknowledge. "So, it stands to reason that there’s something you want…” 

You shake your head. “Trust me, there’s nothing that I want from you.” 

Your fingers dug into the rough wool of his jacket as each thrust of his hips drove your back against the grimy brick wall. The smoke on his breath clouded your senses, and you whimpered in his ear as he struck the deepest parts of you. Fire burned in your veins, your mind abandoning your body in its desperation for everything it craved from him. 

Warmth blooms in your cheeks and you hope that he can’t see the memory in your eyes. You never meant to get tangled up with him that evening, you never meant to take your flirtatious charade so far… but in the end, it was exactly what you wanted. Perhaps it’s you that could be fooled so easily… to fall for his handsome looks, his natural charm, his easy charisma. Even when posing undercover as a shipyard fireman in grubby clothes. 

You continue pulling clothes from the hangers and draping them over your arm with a resigned sigh. “Just go, Sidney.” You say, working a hard swallow down your throat. “The longer you stay, the longer you -” 

“Prevent you from turning up someplace else in my future?” His tone darkens with reproach. “Prevent you from continuing your deist campaign in the lives of your unsuspecting victims?”  

Your brow furrows as your movements slow. “Deist…?” It takes you a minute to dust the term off in your brain, recalling what you remember about the 17th century rationalistic theology. “If you’re implying that I think myself some kind of god or… Supreme Being - to do what I do, then -” 

“But by your own admission, is that not your charge? To observe the lives of others over time without interference? Much like the watchmaker who sits back and lets the watch spin unimpeded.” 

“Except I didn’t make the watch.” You counter. “I’m not responsible for your life or your circumstances anymore than I am anyone else’s. I’m just… well, I'm just supposed to be an impartial witness until I complete my study and leave.” 

His face darkens with disbelief. “And then you disappear, leaving the subject of your study to their fate. So, tell me,” he tilts his head as his eyes narrow. “How does that not make you responsible when you could alter the outcome of someone’s life?” 

Your mouth nearly falls agape. “By remembering that ripples of change in the present grow to be tsunamis in the future.” You say with an incredulous shake of your head. “If I traveled through time, altering events here and there… that would have unspeakable outcomes in my world, possibly even-” your words choke off with a scoff. “Accidentally undoing my own existence or bringing about an early end to humanity -” 

“So, without remorse, you just leave those people - people like me - to our death in the full knowledge that you could spare us?” 

“Everyone dies.” You lock your gaze to his resolutely. “I will, too, just as surely as you will - and no person or force on Earth can stop that.” The details of his death swirl in the back of your mind, and your stomach clenches uneasily. You don’t dare tell him that he will be captured by the Russians and face a brutal interrogation before the firing squad even though your heart aches to spare him such a fate. He’s just far too clever, too intelligent, too… larger-than-life to be brought down so plainly.

He holds your gaze in the deafening silence, and you long to know what he’s thinking. To see beneath his carefully crafted layers, to find the man that he is beneath the master spy. An uncertain sigh leaves you as you break away to glance down at the clothes on your arm before closing the wardrobe door. “I don’t know what you’re hoping to gain by coming here, Sidney - Sigmund,” you amend with his real name, darting your gaze back to him. “But I’ve already fucked up enough in everything that I’ve done with you, and I’m not about to go making it worse.” 

“You assume, of course,” he says pointedly as his gaze leaves you nowhere to hide. “That your further involvement implies a negative outcome, but how do you know that for certain?” 

You force yourself to look away, dropping the clothes messily into your trunk with a fierce shake of your head. “No - no, you’re not going to manipulate me like that.” Your heart sticks in your throat, not helped as his footsteps echo on the wood behind you. “It’s the fundamental rule of time travel, the chaos theory. And you -” Your words stall as you turn your head to find him materialized at your side. His intoxicating scent of smoke and clove fills your nose, making you want to bury your nose against his chest. He holds you with such captivated interest and tender regard in his stormy-blue eyes, and your resolve threatens to crumble - but dammit. You know what this is, you know what he is… yet, still… 

You draw his scent deep into your lungs as you find your voice. “You have things in your life that you still need to do, and you’ll do them without ever seeing me again.” 

“And suppose I stage a protest by locking myself away in my apartment for the rest of my days? Or taking a vow of silence?”

You arch a teasing brow. “Perhaps that’s exactly how the rest of your life plays out, hmm?”

He searches your face for the truth, and you hate how easily he finds it. “You’re a poor liar.”

“You would know, of course… as a professional.”

“You’re hardly one to judge – as a historian, is history not just a set of lies agreed upon? Or is that one of your noble endeavors in coming here? To sort factual truth from fictional lies?” His eyes bore through you, making your heart race. “You preach study and observation, and you assume ignorance… but all you’ve done is condemn me to a life of uncertainty.”

Realization slowly creeps in as you continue to drown in his captivating, searching gaze. You draw a sharp breath as you blink back at him in disbelief. “I can’t… actually tell you what happens to you in the future. If you know how everything ends, then you jeopardize everything even beginning – and that is exactly how chaos unravels.”

His gaze falls away from yours as he blinks, ducking his head in a moment of resigned consideration. It makes you wonder – how many people have actually resisted him? How many have told him no and succeeded? Nothing about that thought should stir more heat in your blood, but it does all the same.

“Then, tell me again,” he says softly, returning his smoldering gaze to yours as he raises a hand to brush against your forearm with a gentle caress. “How you’re not an omniscient goddess sent here to torment me?”

His touch sends sparks through you even as you scoff incredulously. “Fucking hell, you’re an impossible bastard.” Your voice sounds more uneven than you want as your breathing quickens. “Have you ever once been honest – truly honest – with any woman in your life?”

His eyes narrow with mild, teasing reproach as he leans in and your head tilts on responsive instinct. “I’m never disingenuous with my affection, darling.”

“Do you have any idea how incredible you feel?” He groaned against your neck, breath searing your skin. “Like you were made just for me…”

A dizzying surge of arousal slammed through you as you held him tighter, burying your face in his shoulder. Everything about this moment was so wrong but you’ve never felt anything so right as you hitched your leg higher on his hip, feeling him push in deeper, completely heedless of anything else in the dark alley.

Your body burns with growing need as his scent surrounds you and his radiant body heat draws close… so close.  “I’m not talking about that kind of affection,” you still manage to say even as the protests of your mind drown under the thundering of your heart. “Besides, you can still lie just as easily with your cock.”

His eyes blow dark and wide as the corner of his mouth lifts with raptured awe. “By God,” he breathes with a hunger that reverberates deep in your core. “You are fire…” His lips brush your neck with a feather-light kiss and every nerve-ending comes alive. Your breath catches as he dusts another madding, tantalizing kiss to your skin, and your head tips back without permission.  

Liquid heat burns between your legs, and your fingers yearn to reach out and touch him as your body runs away from your mind. “And you’re horrible.”

“I’m a lot of things, darling.” His mouth curls to a wicked smirk against your skin as his fingers on your forearm ripple shivers through you. “And yet you still tremble at my touch…”

You burn hotter, unable to hide from his shameful truth. Unable – unwilling – to run away from him when everything you know about this moment to be forbidden. His lips dance along your jawline and the last of your resistance dissolves. Even from his first touch, you can’t explain the connection that arcs between you, the primal language only his body has ever spoken to yours. If you’re going to leave him forever, and if this is truly the last moment that you have with him... then, why should you deny such a visceral force?

Your eyes flutter closed as his breath fans your lips in the fleeting space between heartbeats. You hover on the edge of eternity as your blood races, and when his kiss meets yours, you surrender to reckless abandon.

... As for the rest - do you yield and tell him the future? Do you alter the course of his life and history? Or is there a way to do one and not the other...?

Are you ready for, ready for A perfect storm, perfect storm 'Cause once you're mine, once you're mine There's no going back

[p-antomime]

kiki 😓😓 please tell me something, for real anything with frat boy!katsuki </3

oh, anything? alright nonnie <3 gonna give you some hcs about frat boy!katsuki

୧ : tw.: non-consensul recording/filming, dubcon-ish, use of alcohol, hints of small age gap with both (him & reader) being 20+.

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who is not so interested in either dating or his own grades in college until he is called to the senior group that handles the arrival of new freshmen at college and he sees you being introduced to the uni by a girl he knows very well, ashido mina

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who tries to get any kind of information about you out of her, but she tells him to give up because she "knows what he intends to do," and, in reality, everybody knew — the moment kirishima and sero saw him staring at you across campus before class, they already knew that katsuki's mind was already beginning to reel

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who gets to know your name by asking a friend of yours who was also new in college, actually: she was your first and only friend there, so it was easy for him to say that he was looking for you because of student documentation

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who ends up approaching you on a day when he had to go to the library to get a book for denki, and you were there, busting your head trying to understand the notes you had made in a hurry during the morning class

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who is willing to help you understand the material, saying "bother? oh no, it won't be a bother for me, when I was a freshmen nobody helped me, so I want to do it for you" with a sideways smile

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who slowly manages to gain your trust, but doesn't introduce you to his group of friends, including mina, because she'd promptly want to keep you away from him — and, c'mon, he needs to keep you around so he can keep checking out your cleavage and/or your thighs under your skirt during the day and have good fap material to later at night with his hand around his cock wondering when he could get you to choke on it

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who couldn't stop fantasizing about dragging you to his bedroom at one of the frat parties so he could finally use you and send you back to the party with cum leaking from between your legs

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who convinces you to go to one of these parties on a Saturday as soon as he hears sero and denki talking about it

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who helps you get along with everyone at the party and tells you that if any guy messes with you just call him and he will take care of the asshole for you, and although he himself is not the best of influences, katsuki says it from the bottom of his heart; he would fight any motherfucker at that place for you

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who sees you drinking and joins you, just not to leave you alone, after all: it was your first college party! and it's better to be drinking with a friend... or not.

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who helps you up the stairs to one of the rooms, but barely manages to close it because he is also already drunk, which means that it was kept open the whole time he used to lay you down on the bed and start kissing you without finding much resistance — it wasn't as if you didn't find him attractive, but, definitely, the alcohol inside your system made you forget any and all rumors about katsuki using new college girls for a quick fuck and discarding them right afterwards

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who spent long minutes kissing and biting your tits until he left teeth marks all over your skin, after all, if you were not in full consciousness that day, those marks could remind you of who made them

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who made you cum several times, but only first with his fingers and mouth and he did it more for himself than for you: he wanted to memorize the sweet taste of your pussy as much as possible, to leave you throbbing for his dick because surely the next morning you wouldn't want to look him in the face

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who would fuck you without a condom if you hadn't mustered up all your dignity to gasp while he kissed you and ask him to use one

all right, frat boy!bakugo katsuki might do it this time, but the next time? no way, he'll fuck you raw, no condom, fuck you raw and fill you up with his sticky cum and then fuck it as deep as possible with his fingers

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who would put you in matting press and would talk about how cute you look having your little pussy totally ruined by a guy like him, how thankful you should be to have a veteran like him taking such good care of you

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who would cum deep in the condom, but when taking it off he would not only leave it on your crotch, with his white cream dripping over your sensitive pussy, but also take some of the liquid to draw a heart and write "Katsuki" on your tits

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who may or may not have taken pictures of you and recording everything while fucking you and while getting your breasts honeydewed in his cum, you honestly couldn't remember, too drunk for it; maybe you need to ask him about it the next day!

— bnha masterlist.

[yamagucji]

Embarrassing moments

warnings. just for shits n giggles, 14+ readers preferably, mentions of vomit, poop, choking, etc.

HINATA was extremely constipated and needed to use the bathroom quick. but there’s a long line to the mens bathroom (what’s the occasion anyway??) and he’s standing all the way at the back. poor hinata felt a fart coming so he just couldn’t... hold it in. mans SHARTED. shitted and farted at the same time. it stunk so bad that the guys in front of him said, “damn, you need the toilet more than me,” and let him cut in line.

USHIJIMA and tendou stopped to pet this dog during their walk. tendou’s conversing with the owner while toshi’s petting the dog. dog likes it, it’s all good. until... it got bored and decided that toshi’s butt smelled good. dog just wouldn’t stop sniffing his ass. “please, stop smelling me,” toshi says with desperation, which now catches the others’ attention. the owner has to pry their dog away from toshi’s ass cheeks, please. the awkward tension kinda dies down until tendou utters, “so, what’s your secret? what product are you using?”

YAMAGUCHI drank water in the middle of silent class reading. this boy started choking— and i mean choking on his water. you can hear his muffled coughs in the distance and when you turn around to look at him, his face is all red and his cheeks are puffy. none of his classmates say anything but you can practically feel second-hand embarrassment oozing around. the assistant teacher even has the audacity to say, “drink some water.”

KENMA’s calling this one his last try. he sticks his remaining coins into the slot and tries to get the brand new nintendo box thats in the machine. mf has been going at this for over twenty minutes now. his pouch is empty and there’s a crowd of kids waiting for him. no miracle happens in his last try (shit got stuck!!) so he has to move away only to watch in horror— as the kid after him manages to get it. you’re gonna have to hold kenma down before he hunts that kid with every bit of his soul.

DAICHI had a fat one coming in, that’s for sure. thought it was a free real estate just because everyone else in the camp seemed asleep. so he let that monster fart come out (even partly stuck out his thigh for better airway). whole team was awake in a matter of seconds. nishinoya’s jumped off his sleeping bag and asking everyone if they heard that “loud bang.” tanaka’s over here sniffing around because he knows that no one has got some kind of bomb that stinks.

SAKUSA’s not gonna admit to this one. but one time he opened a bathroom stall (it was unlocked) only to find that it was occupied. there are no words to accurately describe just how horried the sight was. sitting on the toilet was a man taking a shit, with his dick on full boner mode, staring back at sakusa. they only made eye contact for just 2 seconds but sakusa’s seen enough. he’s heard enough too, when said stranger asked him, “you wanna join me?”

ASAHI projectile vomited at the theaters. you should’ve known it was a bad idea to take him out to dinner before going to watch a scary movie. man had no courage to tell you he had an upset stomach nor tell you he’s not a fan of horror. it’s twenty minutes into the movie and he’s poking your arm— but you don’t notice because you’re too engrossed. another twenty minutes, and a jumpscare comes on. man beside you vomits like there’s no tomorrow. ya’ll spend the rest of the movie secretly trying to clean his throw-up.

TENDOU was watching anime in his dorm peacefully. until... the whole shiratorizawa team opened the door just in time for the show to switch up to an inappropriate scene. out of all the times they could’ve walked in, they really had to come when 2d clown man was moaning and fighting a kid? tendou scrambled to close his laptop but now he’s just staring back at his teammates; silent, except for the fact that his show is still playing and you can still hearing moaning in the background.

TSUKISHIMA turned his house upside down and still couldn’t find his glasses, nor his extra pair. he was about to leave bare eyed until his mom caught him and forced him to wear his sports glasses. yeah, the one with the whole strap and everything. mans looked like a fool coming to school with it on. people who didn’t know it was his sports glasses mistook it for swimming goggles. he’s so utterly humiliated now, he can’t even bite back when hinata or kageyama says something.

GOSHIKI... i don’t even know what to tell you. who let this kid go further into the lake by himself? it’s all fun and games for everyone until you hear an ear-defeaning shriek by your one and only goshiki. he’s yelling out, “help me! please! help!!” the lifeguards start kicking in and everyone’s trying to make way. is he drowning? is there something there? no for god’s sake. you find out he just made it 5 ft deep and happened to swim over a bunch of seaweed. never take him swimming again.

ATSUMU decided to check himself out using someone’s car window. he’s fixing his hair, picking at his teeth, and even checking to see if he has any boogers. all of a sudden the window rolls down and there’s a senior citizen staring back at him. “boy do you think my car is your mirror?” the man says in a gruffy voice. atsumu’s knees nearly buckle from how scary this man is and how embarrassed he is of all the four minutes he probably spent with this stranger.

SACHIRO’s job as a vet sometimes makes him do really questionable shit (from an outsider perspective). once he had to ejaculate someone’s dog in front of their owner. uh huh... jack them off, for the sole purpose of examining the dog’s semen. he’s never felt such a wave of regret wash through his body during that whole procedure. it didn’t help when the owner was looking at him mortified, nor the fact that it took such a long time.

OIKAWA does this thing were he shows up unexpectedly behind iwaizumi and slaps his ass. everytime he does it iwa always hits him back (but not the ass). today he learnt his lesson when he mistook a stranger for iwa and slapped the guys ass from the moon and back. when i tell you just how quick all the blood drained from oikawa’s body when the man turned around— you can hear a bag of chips fall at the other end of the aisle and it’s the iwa, who had to witness that whole ass-slap event.

ARAN is gonna knock the shit of the miya twins one day, he swears to god. they sent him a mysterious video during his morning walk, where he stopped at a busy street. it starts off quiet, so he goes to turn the volume up full blast. damn video suddenly started blaring ‘lick my pussy and my-’ please... he’s shaking. passerby’s are looking at him with distaste. aran’s now flushed from embarrassment and running towards the miya house. you can guess what happens next.

BOKUTO walked into the wrong house. spent a whole ten minutes rummaging around the kitchen because his friend said to “make yourself comfortable, i’ll be on my way.” little did this man know that there’s a whole family upstairs waiting for the cops to arrive because they think it’s a robbery. poor bokuto, dragged out of the house by some cops but had no idea what was going on. man was literally just vibing— thinking he was in his friends house.

OSAMU swore this size pants still fit him (hint: it doesn’t). he’s walking through the snack section of the store, lightly limping because damn his dick can’t breath. his truth is tested when he goes to pick something off the lowest shelf and his pants literally go, ‘let er rip.’ fabric tore, and what’s worse is that he was wearing onigiri undies. osamu goes to check if there’s anyone else in the aisle and there is— a group of underclassmen girls from his high school.

KUROO tried to make his chemistry presentation more interesting by putting in jokes. he thought they were funny; kenma even huffed a breath. kuroo’s at his third joke by now and literally no one has laughed. not a single one. except for kuroo himself, who’s awkwardly laughing in a dead-silent room. man was embarrassed. other people are getting second-hand embarrassment by the way they avoided eye contact with him. he vented to kenma later only for kenma to say, “it wasn’t funny. it was just stupid.” poor kuroo.

SUNA accidentally connected his bluetooth to the bus. you know, the one that drives all of inarizaki to their games. wanna guess what the fuck he might’ve been listening to? it’s porn. he’s watching porn in broad daylight. suna doesn’t realize what the issue is until he goes to turn up the volume and notices that the sound is off. he take his airpods off and that’s when he hears pure moaning sounds blaring inside the bus. everyone’s laughing— except for kita and their coach who’s still outside. mf calls himself lucky for that.

[palbabor-writes]

Impetuous

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT/18+only, cunnilingus, switching, bratting, face-riding, Satoru being Satoru, so he’s chatty & in general the worst  

Words: 12,815

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own. 

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

Notes: this thing has been languishing in my drafts since like, January. because it was my first step away from BNHA i’ve sorta over analyzed it & edited it, likely to death. but anyway, without further ado, here is my first venture into the JJK fandom! thank you for edits & suggestions: @albinoburrito, @kugutsuu​, @kogo​ & everyone else that i’ve forced to look at this thing. love you all sm & ty for putting up with me!

& it’s gojo because of course it fucking is. 

Impetuous im·pet·u·ous /imˈpeCH(o͞o)əs/ adjective done quickly

“I hate to be a harbinger of bad news, and I can understand your frustration, but that’s what they asked me to do. Doesn’t matter what continent we’re on, elders are elders. Honestly, I’m a little shocked that this teaching pathway is even an option for him.” Although you speak softly, your voice seems to carry more in these close meeting rooms, clattering off the tatami mats and gleaming leather couches.   

Yaga massages the bridge of his nose and adjusts his dark sunglasses before lifting his eyes to yours. “I understand, but I still feel that he would be an asset to our school. As long as his motivations remain pure, that’s all I can ask for, at present.”

“Pure or not,” you continue, lacing your fingers as you cross one leg over the other. “It’s vital to see how he handles himself on these missions. What if he has a student with him? I’ve never seen his fighting style, but I’ve heard he can be reckless. How can he foster confidence and proper growth if he’s not measured on the basics? There’s the additional worry of taking him off of the higher ranked missions. Or, if you elect to keep sending him on them, can he handle both? Can he teach and still be a successful sorcerer and asset?”

“He’ll be expected to do both. He knows this,” Yaga sighs, reaching for his lukewarm cup of tea. “While he’s not known for his conventionality, I don’t think that will interfere with his teaching. As I said, some recent events at the school have helped to illuminate the importance of managing the coming generation. Satoru is confident, and I believe that will translate well to any future students. He’s already taken on some responsibility with young Fushiguro and the boy is doing well under his instruction.”

“Fushiguro?” you ponder. Your school administration and the head elders had given you a list of names, people who represented the top families among Japan’s sorcerers, but you don’t remember seeing a name like Fushiguro among the others.

“He’s related to the Zen’in family,” Yaga explains, spreading his vast hands open as he replaces his tea cup against the low table that rests between the two of you. “So, if I’m understanding correctly, your superiors in America have sent you to Japan to collect a series of reports. One is on the influence of curses and how our alumni comport themselves in the field. The other is the analysis of our teaching styles and to, how did you put it, ‘further diversify your own teaching abilities as a jujutsu educator.’ And, as if that wasn’t possibly enough, to observe our newest teaching candidate, Satoru Gojo.” 

“In a nutshell,” you confirm, a smile quirking the edge of your lips. “We’ve got some missions lined up, right?”

“Yes. You will enter the field with Satoru and one other returning alumna, Shoko Ieiri. She’s finished her medical degree and will join our research facilities in the coming weeks.”

“Oh! She’s the one who can use the reverse healing technique! I’ve heard of her.”

“Yes. She was in Satoru’s class. I realize your report is the main aim that you have here, but I would ask that you keep an open mind. While your report is of value to our school, it will not affect my decision on the matter.”

You lean against the stiff cushions of the couch and cock your head at Yaga’s impassive expression. “Of course,” you assure him, noting that nothing in his outward appearance shifts as you give him the response he was waiting for. “Should be an interesting week, at the very least.”

“Oh,” Yaga replies, finally cracking a less than reassuring grin. “Satoru will make sure of that.”

“Hey! (L/N)-san! The next report is up and they’re sending a manager for us, hurry up! Stop scribbling things in that little notebook. What are you writing anyway? Is it some kinda biography? Oooh! Is it on me? Is that why you keep looking at me? It is, isn’t it? Ahh, now I’m gonna feel self-conscious.”

You snap your notepad closed and slip it into your hip pouch, stepping toward the two fellow members of your team. “It’s just routine notes and you don’t need to call me (L/N)-san. I realize it’s likely force of habit, but please, just call me (Y/N).”

“Ahhh! We’re already on a first name basis! I’m blushing. I’ve never had a girl be this forward with me!” Satoru sighs, clapping his hands against his cheeks and leaning over you. “You’re so bold!”

“Ugh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Liar, and stop that. I’m still the senior sorcerer in this party. I–”

“But you’re just a grade 1,” he interrupts, bracing his hands on his hips and exaggerating his stance, moving his face close to yours. As he looms ever nearer, you raise your chin and hold your ground. This invasion of personal space is a tactic he loves to use. 

At first, you’d figured he was just another one of those guys who weren’t aware how intimidating their sheer height and presence came off to others. However, as the days wore on, you noticed his intentional maneuvering. He would press at Shoko too, but she was better at ignoring him, so he soon turned his full attention to you.

“Yeah, I might only be a grade 1, but they have given me the command on all of our missions. It’s my job to file the reports, a task that you, as the technical ‘junior party’, aren’t trusted to do.”

“You’re so right! That’s a tremendous responsibility. How do you stand under all that pressure (Y/N)! The role of the pencil pusher is such a big job. I should act right! Or I’ll never be a real jujutsu sorcerer! God, look at this Shoko, we need to get our shit together! At this rate, we’ll never be able to file our own reports!”

“Now, now,” you tut, raising a finger in front of your face, forcing him to take a subconscious step backwards. “Watch what you say, after all, you’re wanting to become a teacher. So some part of the masochism of endless paperwork must appeal to you.” 

Satoru’s smooth lips raise into a broad smirk and pulls away, arching his arms behind his pale head. “Hmm, I’ll give you that one (Y/N). Mainly because of your choice of wording. Masochism. What a word for it. And why’d you have to say it so straight faced? Oh, that reminds me, what time is our next mission at?”

“Uh, why did masochism remind you of that?” you pause, lifting your wrist so you can check the time on your watch. “I think it’s in two hours, give or take traffic.”

“Hmm, and it’s in the Chiba district?”

“Yeah, that’s in Tokyo, right?”

“It is,” Shoko chimes in, twirling a lock of her long brown hair between two of her fingers. Her low voice reminds you, and you turn to face her. “Speaking of names, I never asked, would you prefer Shoko or Ieiri?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she replies, lifting her tawny eyes to yours, catching some of the bright sunlight as it fades into the deep circles under her eyelids. The contrast makes her skin look even more pallid. “First name, last name, whatever is easier.”

“Shoko okay with you then?”

“Sure,” she nods, the ghost of a smile lifting her lips. 

“Oi!” Satoru interrupts, slinging an arm over Shoko’s shoulder and fixing you with a pointed look. Or you assume he is, it’s hard to tell where he’s looking because of those white strips of cloth that obscure his eyes. “You know what’s in Chiba, don’t you?”

You blink at him, unsure if this is another one of his aimless questions or something genuine. “No. Should I?”

“You’re a tourist and you really don’t know what’s in–”

“We’ve already been over this Satoru; I am not a tourist,” you protest. “I’m here on official business from my administration to–”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, special, ‘top secret’ assignment or not, you’re still basically a tourist because it’s your first time to Japan. You’re honestly telling me you didn’t look up anything before you arrived?”

“Um,” you waver, eyes narrowing at the cheerful leer that’s drifting over Satoru’s angular features. “I looked up some basic things. I know about the Shinjuku and Roppongi districts. Oh, and Harajuku, that’s a big one too.”

“Mmhm, very good, my little tourist, but do you know what’s in the Chiba district?”

“Don’t call me that and stop screwing around Satoru. If this has nothing to do with the mission, then I’m not interested. I could care less what’s in the district–”

“Might just be rumors, but I’ve been hearing about an increase in cursed activity. Especially around that theme park. I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” he looks upward, pearlescent hair tumbling behind his wrappings. “I guess it’s not surprising that it’s a hot spot, what with all the people who are always checking it out. It’s pretty famous.” 

Tch. He’s not gonna tell you. 

You suck your teeth and twist your hand back to your hip pouch, digging for your phone. As you peer over the search results you can hear him rambling on about the notoriety of the unnamed place but as soon as you hit the second result, your head whips back up. 

There’s no way. 

Of course you’d heard of it, you’d even thought about it when the higher ups asked you to take on the assignment to Japan, but never, not in a million years, would you have figured that you’d have a chance to go. Not on this trip.

“Are you serious?” you breathe, blinking up at his smug face. Satoru doesn’t answer, just pops one hand under his chin and gives you a shit-eating grin. You look back at your phone and bite your lip, doing your best to contain your budding excitement, double checking the map for the district.

If he’s not pulling some kind of elaborate joke, it looks like Tokyo Disneyland is the location of your next mission.

“What… what the fuck is this, some kinda elaborate joke??” 

The gates to the amusement park are warped, and the paint is peeling; one side looks like it’s about to melt off of the frame, all twisted metal and faded rust. Just past the gates you can see what looks like an old merry-go-round, complete with lions, tigers, bears and several sets of horses. At the tip-top of the ride rest a star, and atop that star is a wraith like curse. It spindles around the flecks of gold and cool bronze, baring its teeth at the three of you and sputtering a long line of broken speech as it twists and turns. 

“Huh, still looks about the same. This place was enormous when I was a kid. Now it’s a trendy spot for ghost hunters and thrill seekers! I think five or six people died here last year.” Satoru grins, tucking his hands into his pockets as he strides forward. In seconds, he’s beside the curse on the merry-go-round, silencing chittering of its inane dialogue, letting an eerie quiet seep over the rest of the abandoned grounds.

“So stupid. I cannot believe I let him make me think we were going to Disneyland. You know what he’s like, Shoko! Why didn’t you tell me? He–”

“I honestly don’t listen to him. No idea he was making you think this was Tokyo Disney,” Shoko interrupts, already following the path Satoru took, tucking her brown hair behind her neck with a loose hair tie. “But since we’re here, could you lower the curtain and take care of those level 2 curses on the ticket booth?”

You let out a long sigh and toss her a quick affirmative, reciting the familiar incantation, watching as the darkening shield slopes its way down from the skies, sheltering the three of you within its haze.

The first set of curses are easy enough and you swiftly take care of them, unleashing your cursed technique and splicing them into faded dust. How ridiculous, you think, opening the door to the booth and dodging an ill timed lunge from a sneakier curse who was hiding inside. Satoru honestly had you thinking that you’d be going to the Disneyland theme park. On the way over, he’d even told you about the layout of the park and what potential curses might be lurking about. 

What a jerk. 

Still, you muse, turning toward another shrieking hulk of a curse that’s lumbering toward you, it’s impressive he’d led you on so easily. You make a mental note to get back at him later, for now you need to clear this area and focus on the task at hand. 

“I cannot believe that you led me on like that!” you pout, knocking back a small swig of beer.

“Pfft,” Satoru chuckles, wagging one long finger at you. “Didn’t ever say it was gonna be Disneyland, did I? You came to that conclusion all on your own.”

“Oh please! Making me look up what ‘famous tourist spots are in Chiba’ and then nodding each time I said I was excited to see some of the rides on the way over.”

“You could have really been into haunted carnivals. How was I supposed to know?”

“Ass,” you snap playfully, sticking your tongue out at his pleased smile. 

After the mission and spotting your peeved expression, Satoru had insisted that you let him take the two of you out for a drink. According to Shoko, the bar in this neighborhood was highly rated and had some of the best specials in the entire district. 

The place was packed; but somehow Shoko had secured three seats up at the bar top, ushering you to sit between her and Satoru, informing you there must always be a three foot buffer between her and ‘that loser’. The bartender seemed to know her and, before you could pull yourself into the worn leather seat, three foaming lagers were passed across the rough surface of the bar top, one for each of you. 

“Thanks,” you’d murmured, cupping your hands around the glass. On your right, Satoru pushed his lager toward you, raising two fingers at the distracted barkeep as he chatted with Shoko. “What’s wrong? Don’t like beer?” you’d asked, bemused by his disgruntled expression. 

“Nah,” he’d confirmed, wagging his digits a little faster, chin lifting as he let out a huffed exhale. “Messes with my eyes. I want something to eat, though. Hey! Shoko! Stop flirting with him and ask if they have anything sweet! Shokooo! Don’t ignore me!”

Shoko made a show of rolling her eyes but, a few minutes later, a plate of piping hot fried sweet buns appeared and he’d swiftly grabbed up one, popping it in his mouth and smacking it hungrily. You’d turned to ask Shoko what they were, but by the time you’d twisted back to Satoru over half of the cakes were gone. 

“Damn, you inhaled them,” you’d exhaled, a little shocked he could scarf them down that quickly.

“Well, they’re not bad and hit the spot, for now,” he’d grinned. “Want one?”

“I’m good. You might bite my finger if I get too close… mistake it for one of the buns…”

“Awe, what’s wrong? Think you wouldn’t taste good?”

“Yikes,” you laugh and Satoru hums, clearly pleased with your genuine mirth.

Shoko, who was soon engrossed in conversation with a few of the other patrons to the left of her, kept ordering rounds for the both of you. To keep up, you diligently sipped at each fresh beer, careful to keep abreast of the thrum of the alcohol with several responsible swigs of water. Satoru seemed content with his small order of sweets and peppered you with questions about life in America. He asked about what grade year you taught, the ins and outs of curses within the states and how you liked Japan. He kept things lively and made a point to throw in a few lighthearted jokes at you, beaming each time you laughed at his barbs. 

“So, what you’re saying is there’s no one in America quite like me?” he teases, stretching his long arms dramatically before leaning closer to you.

“Stop that! You’re gonna hit someone,” you grin, trying to shove at his side, watching as your hand freezes in midair, held off by his limitless technique. “Seriously? You’ve still got that on?”

“Mmhm,” Satoru intones. “24/7, 365!”

“You would,” you try to jostle him again, bemused by the fraying and shimmering sliver of infinity that rests between the two of you.

“It’s a tremendous strain on my brain, you know,” he bemoans, dropping his head and fixing a long frown over his lips.

“You deserve it.”

“Ack!” Satoru cries out, clutching at his heart. “Wow! No sympathy! You really gonna treat me like this? My senpai?”

“May I remind you - Tokyo Disneyland,” you intone, glaring at his haggard expression. 

“WOW. You’re never gonna let that go, huh?” Satoru cracks a face, arching his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, letting a high pitched, cracked voice leech from his lips. “Ahhh, that damned man! He deprived me of my dreams! The chance to see Tokyo Disneyland, one last time!”

“What is that? Me? But… old?”

“Pretty good, right?”

“No.”

“Well, I think it was uncanny!” he crows, nodding.

“What in your warped mind makes you think I’ll sound anything like that when I’m old?” you ask, pushing your empty beer pint forward as you purse your lips. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so excited over the idea of a theme park,” he ponders, tapping a bent index finger against his smooth chin. “Don’t you guys have them in the states? The Disney parks, I mean.”

“We do, we have two. But, since you made me think we were coming to Tokyo Disneyland, I looked up some rides,” you snatch your phone from the counter, scrolling through a few photos before you land on the right one. “Ah! Here it is! Look at this! See?” you chirp, pushing the gleaming screen of your phone toward him.

“Uh. What am I looking at?”

“It’s the Tower of Terror!”

“Which is… ummm… a ride?”

“Yeah? And look at it! It’s upside down! I don’t think the one in America does that,” your finger reaches toward your phone and you blow up the closest image, tapping at the bright colors. Satoru laughs and waves a hand up, attracting the bartender once more and gesturing for another beer for you. “Imma get you another drink, you’re fun like this, plus, you’re just too cute with that little smile.”

You miss his last comment, wholly focused on finding another set of images. “Oh my God! Look! During Halloween they have a night parade in front of it! And… ahhh! Satoru! There’s a green ghost at the top! It’s almost like that curse we saw tonight at the carnival!” 

His long fingers snatch up your bright device, and he yanks it away from your wide eyes. “Ok, that’s enough of that. I’m worried you might end up cursing me for not taking you.”

You give him a sour look and vainly try to grab your phone back, fingers unable to pass through his unseen barrier. “What? No fair! I still don’t understand how you can always have this up!”

“Practice,” he taunts, shaking his head at your determination and wandering touch, chuckling each time you bounce off of his cursed technique. “On another note,” he begins as your new lager is placed in front of you. “What’s in that report that you’re working on?”

You decide to ignore the fact that he’s still holding your phone and cautiously sip past the foam of your fresh beer, peering up at him, studying the lines of his white cloth. It doesn’t tell you much, so you look at his lips instead. They’re pale, but they’re held in a serious line, so you carefully construct your response. “What makes you think I have a report?”

“Why else would you be here?” Satoru counters, rapping his nails against the warped wood of the bar top. “I know you met with Yaga and you’re too cautious and overpowered to be sent on missions with Shoko and me. So you must be here for something else.”

“Officially,” you concede, “I’m here to observe the teaching techniques and skills of the alumni of your school. I’m sure this will come as no shock, but curses are getting more powerful, both here and overseas, and we’re doing our best to keep ahead of those changes. I’m supposed to pick up what tricks I can and bring them back home, to see how we can implement it.”

“Reasonable,” he allows, spreading his fingers before coiling them under his palms again. “But that’s not everything, is it?”

No, you think it’s not. 

You lower your beer and look over at him. He’s braced himself against the bar and his head is dipped so his chin is almost against his breastbone. He doesn’t exactly look dejected, but you can see that he’s thinking deeply and something about that openness makes your heart squeeze. He looks a bit like a kicked puppy. 

Ugh, he’s not a bad guy. He’s funny, and he knows what he’s doing, plus he has the confidence to get where he needs to go. In all honesty, he wouldn’t make a terrible teacher. Maybe not the best, but he certainly wouldn’t be the worst. 

“I–there… there’s some concern you’d be too divided - that it’s not practical to have you teach and go on missions. I also don’t think your own elders trust you much.”

“Ah-ha!” Satoru beams, springing upward and pointing two finger guns at you. “You are here to look in on me! Knew it!”

You can’t help but laugh at him. “Fine, fine, you got me. Let’s get this over with, huh? So we can get back to talking about things other than work, I liked that. What’s the most direct thing I can ask? Hmm, oh! I’ll start with something easy–Why do you want to teach?”

“That’s easy?” he whines, head falling again. 

“It’s straightforward,” you bargain, propping your chin on your fist, looking him over. 

“Sure, let’s pretend that’s not a deceptively loaded question! Alright, well, it’s the best way to change things.”

“Change things?”

“Yup. Like you mentioned, lately curses have become more powerful and lately it feels like I’m the only one who’s being sent on these high-level missions. Frankly, it’s stupid to rely on just me that much, you know? That’s not practical, or even realistic. So, to my mind, it’s vital I throw my support behind some of these up-and-coming kids. You know, foster the next generation and all that. I want reliable allies in the field and to have that, I’ve gotta make sure they’re taught right. Give them everything I know, make them better than me, stronger than me.” 

You’re quiet for a long breath, eyes wide, fingers frozen around your glass, which was midway to your lips. “Damn,” you smile, letting the word hang. “You know, that was actually a pretty good answer.”

Satoru clicks his tongue and curls his lips in a grimace. “Don’t sound so surprised.” 

“I mean,” you chuckle and look up at him, eyes bright. “Well, your attitude doesn’t always inspire confidence.” 

“Ahhhhhh,” he groans, thumping his covered forehead against the bar. “Such a low blow! Bartender! Another round for me!”

“Please,” you sigh, finally taking a sip of your beer. “Do not call your sweet buns ‘another round.’” He grins at you and leans across the bar top, shifting his weight toward your bent arm. The pressure of his shoulder is warm and you nudge at him a little, playfully. He tuts at you but continues to stare ahead, a faint smile teasing the edge of his lips. 

As the bartender slides the requested plate of sweets down, you suddenly realize that you’re touching him. Your eyes widen and you slowly turn your head toward his. He’s not looking at you, content with chewing on his sweet bread, but he’s still braced against you. It’s like all of your senses are finely tuned to that one spot of faint friction between the two of you. You can feel the lines of his muscled arm as he shifts and you involuntarily gulp, doing your best to ignore the abrupt thudding of your heart. 

He said he always kept it up, didn’t he? Something about 24/7 and all the days of the year, so why is he…

“Hey,” Shoko’s voice startles you and you instinctively slide closer to Satoru, arm dragging against his shoulder as you try to right yourself again. “I’m gonna go win this drinking contest these guys have started. You two sticking around for a bit?”

“Uh,” you begin, but Satoru cuts you off, draping an arm over the back of your chair. “Yeah, we’ll be here. What are the stakes?”

“Not sure. But the pot is likely against me, if you’re in a betting mood.”

“Sure, I’ll put 20,000 yen on you.”

“Is…” you start, but Shoko is already walking off, one arm pumped into the air as she shoulders her way to the long table that’s filled with five or six others, all of them holding a full pint glass of beer between their hands. You turn back to Satoru and let out a long breath. “Is that safe?”

“Huh?” he asks, face close to yours. You can smell his cologne from here and the heady scent of him and crisp patchouli fills your senses. “I mean Shoko, will she be ok?” you elaborate, eyes studying the space where his own would be, silently hoping that he’ll pull down the barrier that covers half of him from your curious gaze. 

“Ah,” he nods sagely, leaning back a little to look out at where Shoko is sitting, quietly waiting for the start of the game with her full beer. “She’s got a ridiculously high tolerance. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s part of her cursed technique. She’ll be fine.”

“True, she likely knows the limits of the human body better than anyone else. But… I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so… excited?” you muse, sitting against your chair and running into the flat palm of Satoru’s hand. For a moment, you debate shifting away, but he’s not really doing anything, just letting the tips of his fingers rest against the curve of your spine, tapping a disjointed rhythm as he watches the start of the contest, that all too familiar smile still tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“She used to be a little more laid back, you know?” he replies, leaning a little harder into your side as he lowers his voice, keeping close to your ear so you can hear him. “She always looks so tired now and her whole outlook has changed, but I suppose four years of med school will do that to you. Although, I did hear that she cheated her way out.”

“No!” you gasp, eyebrows lifted in shock. Satoru laughs, and for once, you’re not thinking it might be at your expense. “Yeah! Just the word on the street. But I wouldn’t put it past her. Shoko’s always done her best to avoid things, namely confrontation or extra work, so it makes sense she’d jet outta med school as fast as she could too.”

“That’s crazy and frankly, terrifying.”

“Riiight?” he shivers, lips raising in an exaggerated wince. “But that’s our Shoko. I’ve got a feeling she’ll do well at the school and I’m grateful I’ll have time to work with her again. It’s been way too long…” Satoru trails off and you can feel his hand slip up your back, fingers ghosting over your shoulder blades.

“Stop that,” you scold, shaking him off with a quick jolt and twisting around to look at his roguish smirk. “What happened to always maintaining your barrier?”

“Awe” he groans, dunking his head against your shoulder with a thump. “Come on, I’ve gotta win you over somehow!”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, I mean, I want the job.”

“I’m gonna hit you,” you threaten, doing your best to keep your bubbling amusement contained. 

“Try it,” he taunts, lifting his head and keeping his face close. His nose is inches from yours and you can barely make out his sharp grin, but you can feel the drag and pull of his breath as it passes over you, leaving a lingering sweetness against your skin. Instantly, your hand lifts to him, fully intent on shoving him back, but you can’t move any closer, trapped by the sudden emergence of his infinity. 

“Ass,” you prickle, shaking your head at his antics. Another peal of laughter falls from his soft lips and you can’t help but smile back, caught up in his infectious joviality. “Tch. Don’t make me find more Tokyo Disney pictures.”

“You can’t,” he informs you, cocking his head at your confusion. “I still have your phone.”

“Hey! Give that back!” you gasp, snatching blindly at him. He shifts back into his seat and yanks your device out of his pocket, waggling it tauntingly in front of you. “Uh-uh! Gotta get past the barrier first!”

“That’s not fair!”

“Never said that I’d make this… oh! Shoko! How did it go? Win me something?”

You twist and spot Shoko’s dark head approaching the two of you. She pauses beside Satoru and flips a large stack of bills down on the bar top, a wide grin on her usually impassive face. “As expected, I won. Here’s your cut, Satoru. Don’t spend it all in one place or on another order of sweet buns, would you? Think you can do that for me?” 

She and Satoru bicker back and forth playfully as you unfold several of the notes, aimlessly organizing them on the countertop as their brisk conversation winds back down.

“So,” Shoko murmurs, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket and knocking one free from the carton. “You two gonna head out soon? I don’t really see a need to call one of the managers, the school’s close by and so is (Y/N)’s hotel.” 

“Yeah,” Satoru replies, finally passing your phone back as he collects the neatly stacked set of yen from you. “Figured, I’d see her back.”

“I can find it!” you protest, jamming your phone safely into your pouch once more.

“Sure,” he mocks, arching toward you as he braces an elbow against the bar. “You can barely speak Japanese and I know you can’t read much kanji, but sure thing, let’s let you loose in the city. See how far you make it before you’re calling one of us, hmm?”

“That’s not… I–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Satoru waves his hand back and forth and turns back to Shoko. “I’ll let her finish her drink and then we’ll head out. See you tomorrow?”

Shoko nods at his question and, for a moment, you think you spy a knowing look pass between the two of them, but before you can call out to her, Shoko is already making her way toward the door.

“What was that?” you ask, eyes narrowed as Satoru looks down at you, white hair gleaming under the low lights. “What?” he asks innocently, propping his chin onto his open palm. “That look that the two of you just gave each other.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. You sure that beer didn’t hit you a little too hard?”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Despite it being late August, a cool breeze greets the two of you when you step out of the bar. “It’s so nice out,” you comment, readjusting your boots as you hop onto the sidewalk. 

“Mmhm,” he agrees, bracing his arms behind his head as you make your way down the street. “So did you decide what you’re gonna write in your report?”

You glance up at him and make sure he can see you rolling your eyes. “Back to trying to butter me up?”

“Never! Just asking. If you wanna say I’m crazy and can’t be trusted, that’s fine. I can think of a few others who’d agree with you.” 

“Oh? Who?”

“Most people,” he laughs, stepping a little nearer and bumping against you, shocking you with the actual weight and warmth of his body again. As you continue on, you lift your hand to his arm and press the pad of your finger against his sleeve. This time, nothing bars your way so you run the digit slowly along his arm, smiling when he shivers and bats you away. 

“Stop that! Someone’s gonna see and think you’re taking advantage of me!”

The laugh that explodes from your chest at that mental image makes you stop dead in your tracks, arms lacing around your shaking stomach. Satoru scoffs at your bent figure and leans down, shaking his head at your guffawing.

 “The… the… fact that you… think that anyone… would think that… I–” 

“You’re lucky your laugh is so cute,” he muses, bracing his arms over your bent back, playfully pinning you down as he crosses his forearms.

“Hey!” you protest, squirming under his hold. “Let me up!”

“Tell me what you’ve written about me!” he threatens, chuckling as you squirm under him.

“I only said that Satoru Gojo is an absolute monster and shouldn’t be trusted with anyone’s future,” you cry out, overly pantomiming your overwrought expressions, peeking up at him from under his laced arms.

“Oh? Just that? Well, you’re right. So, fair is fair!” Satoru replies, slipping off of you so fast that you nearly tumble to the hard concrete. Half a beat later, he’s back in front of you and lifting you back to your full height, fingers soothing over your arms as he tugs you toward him. “Would it kill you to toss in a bit of praise? Talk about my undeniable prowess and skill? Wax poetic about my stunning efficiency? You know, make them think that I’ve won you over with my charms. After all, you can’t resist me, can you?”

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own. 

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

A distant quake dashes up your spine, but it’s not from the chill in the air. “Uh, you sure you didn’t sneak some shots under the table? The way you’re pawing at me, you’d think you were the one in the drinking contest.”  

“Nah, I told you, I don’t drink. Messes with my eyes.” Satoru pats his index finger against his white wrappings for emphasis.

“Mmm, the six eyes, right? Powerful ability, from what little I’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “It’s a rare technique. Wanna see?”

You’d walked on, but once the question leaves his lips your feet swivel back, as if they have a mind of their own. He’s standing where he was, hands dug into the pockets of his pants, a lazy smile resting on his lips. The moonlight makes his hair shine, and the gleam is bright against the darkness of the street. The glow makes him look taller, imposing. He’s quiet as he waits for your answer and you take advantage of the extra time to mull over the strange man in front of you. 

He’s enigmatic; a force to be reckoned with, for curses and fellow sorcerers alike and, like most jujutsu users, a little crazy. Even knowing all of this, there’s something about him that’s drawing you in. It’s like the pull of a magnet. It tugs at the forefront of your mind and makes you step closer, wanting to see if you can unravel the puzzle that’s Satoru Gojo. 

“Fine,” you hear yourself reply, crossing your arms, steadfastly watching for his next move. “Go on. Let me see what all the hype is about.”

He grins and that mischievous look makes your heart beat race against your breastbone as yet another quake slips up your back. “Ready?” he asks, right thumb hooking under the fabric that covers his eyes. You nod once and the pad of his finger starts that short, upward, pull. 

He’s slow, painfully slow, in his unveiling. 

The smooth angle of his upper cheek peeks out, and he’s careful to roll up the white cloth as he goes. Then, right as he hits the groove of his lower eye, he stops, a frown pulling over his lips. “Mmm, I don’t know…” he contemplates, holding his thumb under his wrappings. “What if I don’t live up to your expectations? Can’t let you down. Not when you’ve been so patient. I know you’ve been wanting to ask, I can see it in your face. Every time we’d start an exorcism you’d look at me, like you were waiting, watching to see if I’d finally take off the coverings.”

Did you? 

Does it matter?

Do you want it to matter?

Flabbergasted by his all too true accusations and entirely eaten up with curiosity, you march up to him and wrap your fingers around his raised wrist, not noticing that you’re actually touching him and completely unaware of the alluring smile he flashes when your hand coils around his. “Ugh, come on! For once in your life, stop being such a tease! You’re never fair, always so… so pompous and… and–”

You’d shoved his hand upward as you began your preamble but as soon as the tightly wrapped cloth passed over his right eye you feel your breath leave your tensed body. 

His eyelashes are pale, the same ashen color as his hair, but they contrast beautifully with the lone eye that peers down. Beautiful? No, it’s more than that. It’s… it’s…

Truthfully, it’s indescribable and unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

It’s blue; but it’s not an ordinary shade. No, the color seems to meld and shift before your shocked gaze, drifting from hue to hue as the color deepens and lightens. Clouds. It’s like clouds passing over a summer sky. The brightness of the cerulean ensnares you, and you can feel your mouth go dry as you stare up at him. 

His eyes are stunning, perfect, and irresistible, hauntingly so.

“So, what do you think?” Satoru asks, pulling his wrist from your grasp and snatching your limp hand in his, twining his long fingers between your own. His skin is warm and you need to say something, anything, but your mind is stuttering, lagging miles behind as you fall headfirst into the overwhelming pull of his presence. 

Finally, you unstick part of your tongue. 

“They’re… uh… I don’t… ha… God…” You shake your head roughly and the familiarity of that motion slips out of the trance he’s placed you under. As soon as you can think again, you jerk your hand from his and blindly walk down the darkened street. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and you can’t stop nibbling on your lower lip. 

It’s not… this isn’t how this is supposed to go, you think, trying vainly to get the shine of Satoru’s eyes out of your mind.

“Never answered my question,” Satoru coos beside you, his long legs quickly catching up with you. “What’s wrong? You like em’ a little too much?… Or…” 

“They… they’re kinda creepy,” you blurt out, fingers curling into your palms. 

“Creepy!” he gasps, hopping in front of you and lifting up both sides of his wrappings, granting you a peek of both eyes. You do your best to avoid looking at him head on, turning and weaving from him, but he dances closer each time you shift. Damn it. His animated performance makes you exhale a quiet chuckle, and he takes your amusement as a sign to continue, constantly placing himself in your way with a broad grin. 

“Stop!” you plead, openly laughing at his sudden burst of silliness. “Now you’re acting like a creep! Satoru! Don’t! Stop showing them to me! You’re losing all of your appeal! Isn’t part of your charm the mystery? Actually, that’s likely all of your charm. Come on, stop it, there’s a cop on that street corner, he’s gonna think you’re drunk and harassing me!”

“Whaaat!” Satoru gulps, whipping his head around to look at the tired policemen that’s leaning against a dim street lamp. “Oh no! The police! Quick (Y/N), before he spots us!” His long fingers snatch up your pliant wrist and he tugs you into a dark alleyway. 

“Hey! Where are you taking me? Officer!” you call out playfully as you balefully follow him, dragging your feet along the dusty ground. “He’s over here! Help!”

“Oi! Knock it off! You wanna get me arrested?”

“Oh please, there’s no way that guy is about to follow–”

“Shit! Shhh, he’s coming this way! Come on!” The sheer force of his grip yanks you forward and you stumble after him. He takes the corner of the next alleyway and the pair of you dash along the wet patches that litter the broken concrete. He’s moving at a tremendous speed, but his feet barely make a noise as he glides over the grimy ground and it takes everything you’ve got to just hold on and keep up.  

A few twists and turns later, you can finally see the bright lights of the busy street that your hotel is on and you feel a heavy exhale of relief leave your burning lungs. Satoru skids to a halt right before he tumbles onto the safety of the sidewalk that rests a few paces ahead and pulls you beside him, grinning down at you as you try to catch your breath. 

“I think we lost him!” he beams and you suck your teeth as you bend over, hands bracing themselves against your knees. “There…there’s no… he wasn’t actually chasing us. Even if he was, I doubt he can catch up now….” your voice trails off as you hear a distant shout from the alleyway and the thud of heavy boots. 

No. There’s no way you think dumbly as you stare into the darkness, eyes searching for movement. 

“See? I told you he was on to us. He’ll see us if he comes this way. What if… Oooh, lemme try something,” Satoru’s broad hands grab at you and he swiftly maneuvers you against the damp brick of the nearest building, careful not to scrape your back as he pushes you against the rust colored siding. “Just play along, I doubt he’ll notice. Don’t give me that look, it’s your fault he’s following us!”

“My fault? I didn’t… oh–”

His lips are sleeker than you’d imagined. 

That first, teasing kiss he gives you already has you lifting your head, following the beguiling smoothness of his mouth, silently asking him for another caress. When he leans down your hands bunch into the dark fabric of his uniform and you can feel his smile against your slackened lips. He doesn’t touch you; his fingers don’t wander to the back of your jaw or the dip of your skull, instead he opts to flatten his angles against your curves, pressing until you can’t feel anything but him. 

The next kiss he gives you has a little more bite behind it, literally. 

His sharp nose bumps your cheek and his teeth worry against the plush swell of your lower lip, sucking and nipping until you’re snatching for his shoulders, searching for some kind of leverage. His mouth parts and right when you think he’s about to deepen his strokes and teasing pecks, he leans back and cocks his head at your flustered expression. “I’ve always wanted to try that,” he tells you, bracing one of his arms above your head. “It looks so fun in the movies.”

That cop could be right behind him, could be waiting for you both to stop your ridiculous routine and face the harsh gleam of reality, but you don’t care, not right now. 

Your hands had fallen from him when he pulled back, and the absence of his warmth makes you desperate to touch him again. But, when you snatch at the corners of his dark jacket, you’re met with that damned barrier. 

“Really?” you bemoan, licking at your kiss slick lips, trying again. “You’re the worst, you know that? You let me get used to the idea of having access to you and then just cut it–mmmph…” 

With a faint shudder of space, his barrier is lowered once more and his lips are back against yours. This time, his hands join in and he cups his fingers behind your ears, tilting you up as he glides his soft touch over you until you’re groaning. 

“Could have just told me you wanted more…” he rumbles in between his caresses, fingers tracing over the line of your jaw, your neck, and the slope of your shoulders. It’s like he can’t decide where he wants to go and you love the momentary burst of indecisiveness that’s broken over him. 

More, apparently, entails you asking him to come up to your room. 

He’d laughed when you’d mentioned it, your lips swollen and glassy from his attentions, and you’d almost taken it back, peeved by his genuine amusement at the idea, but then he’d plucked you into his arms and smoothed any lingering doubts with another flurry of nips and kisses. 

“This gonna make it into your report?” he grins, yanking his high collared jacket off and tossing it carelessly onto the floor. “I should,” you barb, pulling the long band of your hip pouch off, letting it clatter to the ground as your fingers work up the buttons of your own uniform. “Let them think that you’re abusing your status.” 

“Tch, me? Abuse my power? Never. Hey, I think you’re supposed to go slower with that. Don’t just yank all of your clothes off. You know, take your time, tease me a little,” Satoru chuckles, jerking his chin toward your busy hands.

“Oh? Wanting a show?” you ask, threading the last button and spreading the heavy material apart, revealing the thin shirt that’s obscuring his view of your breasts and stomach. “Well, that’s too bad, because taking all this gear off is never fun, or sexy for that matter…”

“Not with that attitude,” he hums, stepping closer, peeling his skin tight undershirt off and revealing the sleek planes of his rippled muscles. Most sorcerers are fit; and many boast beefier sets of pectorals and curving arches of biceps and triceps, but there’s something about the streamlined leanness of Satoru that’s making your hands itch. He’s not far, you could reach out for him, slip your fingers over the dips and beveled lines of his abdomen and follow that tempting strip of white that winds down the front of his pants, but that makes this too easy and there’s nothing about Satoru that’s easy.

“Mmm, that’s a new look.” His voice is distant to your ears, but the satisfied note that’s vibrating through his words makes you snap your head up, fingernails scraping against your palms. “You look like you wanna eat me (Y/N)… or maybe, taste is a better adjective. Awe, what’s the matter? Worried I won’t let you?”

You run your tongue over your lips and lift one hand, holding it steady and crooking your index finger at his brazen expression, pleased to see that cheeky smile of his falters a little. “Do me a favor, come here and take off that blindfold.”

“Ah-ha, so bossy,” he growls, voice sinking into that sinfully lower octave as he raises his broad hands to the back of his wrappings, unwinding the fabric and slowly advancing toward you. He stops when the tips of his toes are inches from your own, bracing his palms toward his face, holding the last strip across his eyes. “Wanna do the honors? Or are you expecting me to do all the work tonight?”

“As if. Besides…” you snicker, pulling two fingers to the remains of his blindfold and peeling it down, watching as his hair falls forward, slowly divulging the top of his forehead, pale eyebrows and that shock of avid blue that’s already gazing down at you. “I think you like when I tell you what to do, don’t you?”

“Ahh, looks like she figured me out,” Satoru groans, letting the ivory bindings fall to the floor, his hands already reaching for your waist. He doesn’t give you an opportunity to study him, but they’ll be time for that later, you reason, arms lacing around his chorded neck. 

This kiss is hungrier and his tongue immediately dances along the seam of your lips, pressing until you give in. It’s an awkward angle, but he expertly adjusts himself to you, slotting a warm palm against the small of your back and raising the other to curl into your hair, lifting you until it’s perfect. 

He’s greedy, devouring every inch you give him with a ravenous edge, but when you suck on his lower lip, he slips into something that’s clearly a little more unhinged. 

Suddenly, he’s the one who’s bending forward, trying to get as close to you as he physically can, hunching until you can trace your fingertips over the sharpness of his jaw. His teeth clink against yours as he snatches you up, and you can feel the sharp bulge of his length, the hardness grinding down your hips and stomach as he yanks you nearer. It’s hard to breathe, but he’s refusing to let you budge, lips avariciously seeking and pulling, leaving you with nothing else but the sheer enormity of his touch.  

“Fuck,” he gasps, finally letting you fall from his grasp, heaving out a few unsteady breaths. “You’ve got way too much on. Why do you still have so much on?” He plucks at your shirt but stops when he frees the edge from your pants, cerulean eyes bright in the moonlight. “Take it off,” he heaves, forehead pressing against yours, lifting his fingers from you. “Take it off for me, please?” 

You nod, a little taken aback by his sudden desperation, and he watches closely as you yank the thin material up, blue eyes shining as you unveil yourself. When the shirt passes over your breasts, he gives you a distracted kiss to the temple before he pulls away, freeing you to pull it over your head and sighing happily when it finally hits the floor, leaving you partially bare. As soon as your arms lower, he’s back against you, hands cupping at your hips, jerking you forward. “Whoa,” you gasp, bracing your palms against his chest. “Slow down. Let me get the rest of this–”

“No, no, no, no,” he chants, fingers smoothing up your spine. “Stop, for a second… just… just gimme a minute. You feel so nice. Your skin, it’s… it’s so warm and so fucking smooth, ahhh. Ohh, yes. A few more seconds (Y/N), just let me… It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone like this. I kinda forgot what it felt like and I don’t wanna let go, not yet.”

His head is bowed and that hauntingly blue gaze is covered by his winced eyelids, but he can’t seem to stop moving. Even as he asks you to hold still, to let him touch you, feel you, he keeps shifting his weight and burrowing his brow into the dip of your shoulder. 

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nails scritching at the clasp of your bra. “Please? Lemme take it off. Come on. I know you wanna touch me too, I saw how you were looking at me a minute ago. You’re so fucking cute, I can’t… ahaha, fuck, I sound insane. Look, I’ll slow down, I promise, just gimme a little more of you.”

When he mischievously snaps the strap of your bra against your shoulder blade, you can’t help but laugh at his infectious exuberance. His head lifts from you and he turns his attention to your neck, soft lips sucking and nipping at you until you’re wriggling in his hold. “Alright, alright! Just step back, Satoru! I’ll take it off,” you placate, knocking him away and huffing at the long face he gives you in return. “Here,” your fingers unhook the two pronged clasp and the delicate lace slips from your shoulders, falling to the carpeted floor with a hush. “Okay, that’s everything on the top half. Now what are–Ah! Satoru!” 

He takes full advantage of his superior speed and before you can blurt out a proper retort, he’s against you. 

His teeth worry at your earlobe and he immediately hoists you upward, seizing the lush curve of your ass and pulling you into his powerful arms, urging your legs to wrap around his trim waist. When you shakily oblige, he cups one lean arm under you, but the other drags you forward, scraping your newly bared breasts and stiffened nipples against the planes of his powerful pectorals. When he walks, you jostle in his grasp and coil your fingers around his neck, smiling when he moans contentedly at your reliance on his firm hold. “Damn,” he grunts, cocking his head so he can lick a wet circle into your pulse. “You feel fucking good (Y/N). So damn smooth, how are you so soft? God, I want more, I wanna feel everything.”

The front of his shins hit the edge of your bed and he tumbles you down, a dark grin spreading over his face as he watches you stretch out teasingly. He plants a knee into the soft bedding and braces both arms beside your head, leering over you. 

For a long breath, both of you study each other, eyes whisking over gleaming skin and the curves of your faces. Without the added heft of that blindfold Satoru’s snowy hair hangs loosely over his face, straight tendrils clinging to his brow, making him look younger, mellower, and so very handsome. Opting to take advantage of this lull, you reach up and thread your fingers into the silken strands.

When you reach the edge of his temple, you scrape your nails against his scalp, grinning as he lets a heavy exhale fall between his lips, cerulean eyes falling to a pleased half mast. “You’re trying to distract me,” he accuses, gliding a wide palm up your side. You shake your head and keep twirling his hair across your fingertips, marveling at his own softness. “No. I just like your hair.”

“That’s a first,” he snorts, cupping a palm underneath one of your breasts and pulling his thumb over the swelling bud of your nipple. “Here I am, trying to feel you up, and you’re too distracted by my hair to appreciate it. How rude.”

“Shut up,” you gasp out, arching into his hand as he tweaks and plucks at your pebbled tip. “You’re lucky I’m even… mmm… letting you do this.”

“Please. It was your idea, remember?”

Satoru lowers one of his braced arms, letting his weight fall heavily to one side as he keeps his deepening ministrations up. Your fingers are still buried in his hair when he drops his lips to your breast. You feel the flick of his tongue first, and the light tap has you bowing your back, gasping out a faint cry as his rough appendage continues to swipe and twirl over your sensitive flesh. Instinctively, your hands tug at his pearlescent strands and he tilts his head up, fixing you with a lazy stare. “That’s better, looks like I just need to refocus you, huh?” he muses, his words half garbled as he sucks your plump breast into his mouth. He keeps flicking his tongue over you as he suckles, lapping and nipping until you’re writhing under him. 

Once he’s satisfied, his free hand lowers to your grinding hips, forcing you to lay flat against the bed, switching his attention to the neglected twin, sucking and pressing open mouthed bites to your damp, shaking skin. 

A tight heat is coiling in your core and your thighs rub against each other, trying to cool the sharp pricks of arousal that are coursing through you. As soon as your hands fall from his head, Satoru picks up his pace, licking his sloppy tongue under your breasts and nibbling his way down your quivering stomach. “You’re still wearing way too much,” he scolds, fingers toying with the gold clasp of your pants. 

“It’s… oh… difficult to take things off when you… ah–won’t let me move more than two feet from you.” You’d meant it to sound a little firmer, but his constant touch is wearing down your focus, distracting you with brilliant flashes of his luminescent blues and whites. 

“Awe, (Y/N),” he whines, popping his hand against your hip, long fingers digging into your swelled curves. “That’s not fair. I told you, I always have my barrier up. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve touched someone, anyone? I mean really touched them?”

“Daw,” you sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows and peering down at him. “You poor thing. The all powerful Satoru Gojo, too honed and practiced with his neutral technique that he can’t even hold anyone’s hand.” 

“Ha, such a jerk,” he laughs, exaggerating a wounded frown. “I bare my soul to you and this is how I’m treated?” 

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoff, yanking your legs from under him and popping up on your knees, hands reaching for him, curling under his jaw and urging him upwards. His eyes lock onto yours and the grin that tweaks the corner of his lips gives you an idea. “You said you wanted to touch more of me, right?”

As you wait for your answer, you scoot backwards, making him follow you across the bed, finally luring all of his sprawling form onto the cool sheets. “Mmhm,” he grunts, doing his best to keep close, teasing fingers inches from your skin at all times, always ready to stroke and cup each time you pause. When you hit the headboard you stop, studying his features, admiring the growing hunger that’s screaming its way out of his wide eyes.  

“You ever eaten a girl out?”

The question hangs for half a second and you can see his pupils dilate, the black threatening to swallow up the sky streaked blue of his eyes. Then, right when you’re about to tease him for his gaping mouth and flushed cheeks, he’s bowling past you, splaying out against the mattress and pulling you on top of him. 

“Fuck, that’s by far the best thing I’ve heard all day. Hell, all month. I’ll likely go to my grave thinking about that question. Ouch! Stop squirming, you’re kneeing me in the ribs.” 

“I wouldn’t… Satoru! I can’t breathe if you hold me like that!” His arms are like cables, all tensed muscle and raw strength as he pins you against his heaving chest, lips kissing and nipping at any part of you he can reach.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, sucking a bruise into your arched collarbone. “Hurry up and take your pants off. And don’t say you can’t do it like this, you’re a grade 1 sorcerer, you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Is that going to be part of your teaching regime?” you smart, bucking your hips up so you can unclasp and wiggle your pants down your legs.

“Oooh, you’re right, that sounds good. Damn, I gotta start writing this shit down. That way I can have a whole list of euphemisms. Can you imagine? Molding young minds and helping them to stand up to all the bullshit that those so-called elders make everyone suffer under. All those rules and regulations, the stupid ins and outs they make us all jump through–”

“Hmm,” your voice falls to a gentle hum as you snatch at his chin, stilling his chatter with a single finger against his lips. “That sounds ambitious, but why don’t we take things a little slower, give that mind of yours something else to focus on?”

“Oh?” Satoru smirks, arching an ashen eyebrow at you. “Then you better get up here, before I get distracted again.”

“Don’t you mean down?”

“Huh, down? Ah, I see where the confusion is. Nah, I want you to ride my tongue, baby, so hurry up.” His long arms help him jerk you upward, easily lifting and enticing you forward. That early impatience is peeking out once more, and he pops his head up, nostrils flaring as your uncovered cunt drifts nearer. “Ah, God, I bet you’re so fucking wet. I can smell you from here. Come on, grab onto the headboard and let me get to it.”

Your legs shake as you plant them beside his head and you do your best to steady your pounding heart, pulling a thin stream of air through your parted lips. As soon as you touch the wood of the headboard, he’s gripping your thighs so tightly you’re sure he’s going to leave bruises behind. The tip of his nose is the first thing you feel, and it’s so close to your pulsing clit that you inadvertently cant your hips forward. “Ooh, sensitive, are we?” he crows, nestling himself under you, his breath hot against your dampened folds and wet curls. 

The following slick slurp of his tongue and the slow pass of his lips make your head tip back. He’s surprisingly gentle, slowly licking his way along your labia, pulling and sucking as he goes, teasing closer to that tight bud that’s waiting, just a little bit higher. 

At first, you worry about crushing him, too caught up in the placement of your weight to fall into the haze his mouth is begging you to slip into. But then his lips latch onto you, careful to mouth in time with the thud of your clit, suckling and squeezing until you can’t help but grind down, earning yourself a sharp groan that reverberates against your trembling skin. Using the weight of the headboard as leverage, you roll your hips over him, shifting in time with his well-placed rhythm. 

He’s good, but even the great Satoru Gojo isn’t perfect, not all the time.

When he nips at you a little too hard you shift back, depriving him of your wet heat, loving the petulant sighs and moans he gives you when you do. “Ah, sorry. Gimme a little more time,” he bargains, fingers sinking into the voluptuous curve of your ass, tying to urge you back over his glistening lips. “I’ll do better, (Y/N). Besides, I want you to cum for me. You taste so fucking good and I want it, I want all of it. Hey! Don’t be like that! I said I’d do better. Come back here.”

God, he’s such a brat. 

Every time you shift away he’s got another string of exasperated pleas ready, twitching his fingers and shaking his pale head at your impudence. “Less talking,” you moan, shivering as he delves his tongue into you, feeling his grin as your cunt squeezes around his intrusion. “Ok, ok,” he growls, using his brute strength to overpower your tensed legs. “Mmm, yes baby, ah–just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Fuck, you think as you sink your fingers into his hair, spurring him on, this feels way too good.

When he captures your clit between his teeth and tweaks the tip of his tongue against you, you can’t help but fall to pieces. Your orgasm hits you like a battering ram, seizing hold of your muscles as it rolls through you and scattering a faint spark of spots across your vision. Satoru’s arms wrap around your blindly pistoning hips, helping you to sink closer, ravenously slurping and swallowing down each wave of arousal that hits his gluttonous lips. 

You’re still shaking when he pulls out from under you, flipping you bonelessly under him as his hands finally rid himself of his clearly tented and damp pants. Your eyes are just clearing when you catch sight of him, studiously following that trail of white curls to his impressive length. His cock is long, curving proudly toward his chiseled stomach and bubbling a clear string of pre-cum from the flushed tip. You do your best to sit up, but as soon as he catches sight of your movement, his broad palm is pressing you back. “Ah-ah,” he taunts, stroking a hand over his swollen cock and wiping the last of your slick from his face against his shoulder. “Keep still for me, ‘kay?’” 

His wide palms spread your legs apart, and he soothes his fingertips along your skin as he tugs a few heady groans from himself. “Fuck, you look so good. You’re so goddamn pretty. When you were sitting there at the bar and you looked so fucking happy I couldn’t take my eyes off you, you just looked so nice. Haven’t even known you a week, and I’m already obsessed with hearing that laugh of yours. You put some kinda spell on me, huh? That what this is?”

“Ugh, stop talking, Satoru,” you threaten, watching the steady ebb and flow of his clenched fist. His cock looks so smooth and you’re desperate to reach for it, to take hold of velvety flesh and see how long it would take for the world’s strongest sorcerer to be putty in your hands. 

He arches a pale brow at your blatant stare. “You want it?”

“I want you,” you correct, and the smile that breaks across his handsome face makes your heart squeeze. 

“Awe, how can I possibly say no to that?” he asks, gleefully lining himself up with your slit. Despite his early eagerness, he’s taking his time with this part, running the bulbous head of his cock over you, gathering up some of your gossamer strands, slicking himself with your dripping arousal. “Sorry,” he amends when he makes another pass along your folds. “It’s been awhile and I want to take it all in. I don’t wanna rush this.”

“It’s fine,” you smile, lifting your hands to pass them over his stomach, watching as his muscles ripple under your delicate touch. “Just don’t take too long or you’re not going to be on top for much longer.”

“That a threat or a promise, baby?” Satoru leers, finally slipping his tip past that first, tight ring of your entrance. Despite his bravado, his lips curl over his teeth and he lets out a low hiss as he sinks into you, inch by shallow inch. The pressure of his cock makes you arch, legs automatically wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. He bows his head and his ethereal gaze falls behind his shaking eyelids as he thrusts forward, edging himself along until he bottoms out within you. Fuck, you feel so full.

The stretch of him makes you shake and you’re grateful he’s taking his time when he stills, lips smacking distracted kisses over your heated cheeks and parted lips, giving you time to adjust to him, and he to you. After a few steadying breaths, his teeth bite at the hollow of your throat and he pulls his hips back, grinning as your hands grasp into the sheets, a sharp whine escaping you. He echoes your sentiment, letting a gasping string of curses tumble from his shaking lips as he ruts forward again, one hand gripping at your right leg, prying you from his waist and slinging the trembling limb over his shoulder.

This angle has him pressing against something wonderful and sharp, and you can’t help but gasp out his name as he starts to methodically ram into it, over and over. You can feel him swell at the sound of your pleading moans and you savor the feel of his cock throbbing against your tender walls. “More,” you shudder, fingers trying to hurry his steady hips as he diligently cants into you. 

“In a minute,” he grunts, biting at your pliant skin, arms coiling under your back. “This feels too fucking good. Let me just… ah… fuck…” 

He slows, moving at a pace that sets your teeth on edge, and you thrash under him. Although his cock is digging against that aching place that’s sending dots and stars across your eyes, it’s not enough pressure. Licking your lips, you worm one of your hands between the two of you and pinch and roll your fingers over your clit, easing some of the tingling bittersweetness that’s pulsing over you. 

“Alright, alright, point taken,” Satoru chuckles, releasing your leg from his tight grip and re-lacing it around his hips. “How do you want it, baby? You want it fast? Or do you want it hard? Tell me.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, peeking up at his enthralling cerulean, willingly ensnaring yourself in the intensity of his gaze. “I just want more of you.”

“Tch,” he hums, cupping a hand against your warm cheek. “Don’t say shit like that, I might end up falling for you.”

The laugh that echoes from your lips is swiftly cut off by a gasp as he abruptly ups the pace of his thrusts. He’s quick, but he’s still listening and watching for what you like. When you moan he’s right there with you, steadying his rhythm, and when you call out his name, he digs a little harder. 

It’s too much. It feels raw, like you’re scratching at a cut. Like there’s some itch that you just can’t reach. 

All of it, the feel of his meaty balls slapping against the sticky plushness of your ass, and those breathy moans makes your head spin. The intensity of the moment slips your fingers from your clit, but he makes up for their loss by grinding down each time he sinks into your cunt, scraping the hard edge of his pelvic bone against your throbbing bud. 

He’s good. Fuck.

You can feel the hazy slope of your orgasm approaching and you blindly arch up each time he careens downward, ensuring that he’s hitting right where you need him to. His movements start to hit a lull as he slips into his own fog of lingering pleasure, dipping his head to your neck and sighing contentedly when you kiss at his temple. But the tenderness of your touch must knock him out of his own whirring thoughts and he rewards you with another set of rapid fire thrusts, his lips pulling from your neck to seek out yours, kissing and nipping until you’re gasping for air. 

“Mmmm,” he moans, breath hot against your skin. “You feel so good and you’re getting so fucking tight. You gonna’ cum for me? One more time?”

You do your best to gulp out a reply, but the abrupt press of his calloused thumb against your clit makes you shake instead, a tingling rush of heady arousal racing its way up your spine. Smiling down at your awed expression, he lifts his fingers away and uncoils your legs from his waist, flinging them both over his broad shoulders, his knees settling forward as he continues to roughly thrusts his hips forward, driving you quivering body into the soft sheets. 

“You like that? Does it feel good? Does it? Fuck baby, I’m begging you, give it to me one more time. Can you do that for me? Can you cum for me? I want you to cum on my dick, ah, come on (Y/N), just once more, that’s all I’m asking. You can do it, can’t you?”

He’s rasping his questions against the shell of your ear, hands cupping at the side of your face, keeping you close as he races toward his own end, voice lifting into a frantic plea as he hurtles closer, desperate to feel your satisfaction rippling around him before he completely looses himself to the aching pleasure of your body. 

“I–” you choke out, arms lacing around his back, nails pressing half moons into his skin. He moans at the bite of your touch and tilts your hips upward, seeking more of you. 

That change is all it takes. 

The tip of his cock presses down, lifts, and then suddenly you’re seeing stars. 

“I’m… yes! Oh, fuck. Satoru, just like that. Don’t… don’t stop!” For once, he doesn’t tease. He just smiles, his face flushed, pale cheeks dusted a pleased pink and repeats the motion, careful to keep everything absolutely steady. The repeated push and pull, the warmth of your cunt, the feel of your skin, it’s making his cock throb and his heart race, but he’s determined to see you break. 

There. There it is. Fuck, you’re so pretty.

On an outward pull of his hips, your back arches and your thighs tense and he lets out a long growl, quickly breaking his fastidious rhythm and sinking back into you, gasping as you flutter around him. A new flush of wetness leaks out of your cunt and squelches between your pinned legs, dripping over the cleft of your ass.

He only lasts a few extra ruts, but the feel of him swelling and pulsing inside your tender pussy almost topples you over the edge again and you cling to him in the aftermath of his release, your heaving breasts catching against his flat pectorals. 

With a quick peck, he slowly lowers your legs and eases himself out of you, blue eyes widening at the sight of his softening hardness leaving your leaking pussy. “I don’t know which I like better,” he contemplates, leaning back on his haunches and slicking his index finger up the pooling dribble you’ve both left behind, spreading the spidery traces across his hand. “You wet and dripping for me or filled to the brim with my cum.” His lewd comment makes you huff out a low groan of exasperation and you roll off of the bed, shaking your head as you steady yourself and walk toward the bathroom. 

After a brisk rinse in the shower, you pad back into the darkened room, fully expecting to see an empty bed. You’re not sure why that’s your first thought, but something about Satoru doesn’t scream: I’m the kind of guy who likes post coitus cuddles. So the sight of him, bundled under your sheets, white hair poking just above the edge of the blankets, is a surprise.

“Oh,” you pause, dropping your towel on the floor as you openly gape at him. “You’re still here… I, well, I figured you’d take off.”

“Huh?” Satoru croaks, popping his head up, his face comically askew. “What kinda guy do you think I am?”

“Apparently the kind that stays over,” you snicker, digging around for your discarded bra and panties. 

He lets out a mock gasp, popping a hand against his cheek. “How could you say that! And after I gallantly brought you back here?”

“And fucked me,” you remind him, slipping your lacy underwear back on and re-adjusting the clasp of your bra.

“That too!” he qualifies, arching a pale eyebrow at your impassive face. “I’d say I was pretty generous. You did cum twice after all.”

“Oh my God,” you sigh, crossing your arms across your chest and perching beside the edge of the bed, shaking your head at the sprawling man under your covers.

“Come on, you wouldn’t seriously make me walk all the way back to the school at this hour. What if something happens to me? How could you live with yourself, knowing you kicked me out into the cold?”

“It’s summer,” you point out, rolling your eyes. “And you’re… what six foot three… and you have the legendary six eyes… I mean, I think you’ll be ok.”

“(Y/N),” Satoru begins, narrowing those bright blue eyes at you.

“Yeah?”

“Is it your habit to sleep with helpless guys and then kick them out? You’re so cruel.”

“Stop it,” you warn, snatching at the sheets and yanking them off of his naked form.

“No!” he protests, fingers clutching vainly at the thin cover. “Your bed is so nice! Come on, I’ll be good and I don’t snore. Well, not that I know of anyway…”

“Ugh, fine. I don’t have the energy for this and we have to be up in four hours. Just shush and scoot over.”

“Oh? Do you not have the energy because I fucked it out of you?”

“I’m sorry, were you wanting to stay the night?” 

“Alright, alright,” he splays his hands up in supplication and makes room for you, watching closely as you curl up beside him, a smile playing over his lips. “Hey,” he asks once you’ve closed your eyes, leaning close to your reposed form. 

“What?” you groan, cracking an eye open.

“Can I be the little spoon?”

“Satoru…”

“Mmhm?”

“Shut up.”

notes: hehe. i feel like he’d be so freaking chatty in bed. plus, how could i not make him a little touched starved? stop making me like characters that just wanna be held universe, gosh :3c

[snifflesthemouse]

A Letter To Harry

Dear Harry,

My name is Nunya Business. I just want to take the time out of my life to clue you in on something I had to learn the hardest of ways. If my life lessons can save you the pain and suffering I went through, while indirectly saving the rest of us the pain and suffering from hearing about your pain and suffering, so be it. Let me begin.

You see, Harry, my mom died when I was 25. She was 47. She was bedridden the last ten years of her life. So that means she was permanently confined to a hospital bed for ten solid years, beginning when I was 15. That also means I watched her die slowly for ten years. By the time I was 16, I was trained in wound care management. I was also working 40+ hours a week at a fast-food place and attending school whenever I could. Even though I missed a lot of school, I still carried straight As. I always had great grades in school; I was getting scholarship recruitment letters by the time I was 15. I was brilliant. Still yet, I dropped out of high school by the second day of twelfth grade.

Unlike the traumatic lifestyle of servants and wealth, I was brought up extremely poor. The state paid for our school clothes through clothing vouchers. My dad worked a full-time job from the time he was sixteen until he retired AFTER my mom died. But my mom never held a job, drove a car, got a GED or photo ID, and missed out on a lot of living. So, he was the only source of income until I was old enough to help with the medical bills. He was 18 years older than she was. He only kept working after he reached retirement age because she needed insurance, but I digress. Back to the poor me part of my letter.

Here I was. Sixteen, early into my budding painkiller addiction, working full time, essentially homeschooling myself, taking care of my mother, AND still hoping I could make it out of there. SPOILERS: I DIDN’T MAKE IT OUT OF THERE. You know why? I played the same hand you play now. The poor me, poor me, pour me cards. I started taking my mom’s pain pills for my migraines. One didn’t really go full blown migraine on me one day, and I got high. By the middle of my tenth-grade year, I was having four Percocet tens and a chocolate milk for breakfast. For lunch I had a nap after fighting in and out of nodding off high for the first four periods. Eventually, that drug addiction got insane out of hand. I went from prescription pain killers to shooting heroin within 5 years. I went from never having a detention to having a felony credit card fraud charge and ten years over my head. I didn’t have old money to buy my excuses. I went to prison.

Unlike you, Harry, I wasn’t able to go to immaculate rehabs or have my family bail me out of trouble. I wasn’t able to do hard drugs and become a binger alcoholic behind the scenes, then just “quit” without issue. Something tells me neither were you. I’ve met a ton of addicts and alcoholics. Both say the same. After a month of the same nonsense, the addiction was rooted. So please explain to me how you managed to escape the severities associated with heavy drug use and drinking without withdrawing or getting hooked. Seriously, because you’d be the first person impervious to addiction. Most all of us have to fight the fight of our lives to get and stay clean. I know, I’ve managed almost 6 years now. What about you?

No, like us regular folk, I had to go about sobriety the long, hard route. But of course, it cost waaayy more than you’d ever understand.

Your partying days in Nazi uniforms didn’t cost a thing compared to how much they can cost regular people. By 17, I was already shacked up with a psychopath ten years my senior who literally ended up killing my childhood best friend’s fiancé. Not even exaggerating. My ex killed my ex-best friend’s fiancé in the living room of the house I grew up in, in front of my mom and dad. A month before my mom died, actually. My ex-boyfriend did some major fuck shit to me, and I have a history of dating abusers, but I won’t get into that. Just know 50 Shades isn’t sexy to me and hearing old country music instantly makes my face hurt from getting full beer cans chucked at me… Oh and ya know what, Harry? Turns out if I kept dating psychopaths who hit me… the real problem wasn’t who I was dating. It was ME. But again I digress. Sorry Harry.

I lost my friend who was murdered by my ex at my parents’ home a month before my mother died and two months before I was sent to prison. I struggled with addiction from the time I was 16 until my last relapse 3 July 2015. I dropped out of high school because of my drug addiction, then dropped out of college after getting my GED and a scholarship. 

My mother first introduced me to pain pills. She didn’t realize what she was doing and all, but she just thought she was helping her daughter get through a migraine. I got hooked. I robbed everyone I ever loved and didn’t give two shits about the people I hurt. To this day, I still struggle with caring about people. But again, I digress.

My point is this, Harry. I’ve personally been through fifty times more shit than you have. I watched my mother die slowly over ten years. I watched her gasp for air and cry in the night for God to just take her out of this world so she’d not be in pain anymore. I have lost most everyone I hold near and dear to me simply because I failed to show any self respect, accountability, or acceptance. I didn’t have parents cleaning up my messes with money. I didn’t have castles and privileges to boot when the newspapers ran the stories where I was sentenced to prison. No. I had to face the music and learn the world could fucking care less about how I feel.

Now is time you learn this lesson, too. The world is not fair. What you feel is not important. All that matters is what you do with how you feel. Nobody, and I mean absofuckinglutely NOBODY gives two shits about how you feel; the only reason people watch is because they are nosey. The only reason Oprah makes shows with you is to exploit your story for financial gain, like some type of trauma porn. Your wife isn’t looking out for you if she’s letting you incriminate yourself like that on TV and all, either. I know what you are going through, as I have dated one of those. It didn’t end well for me, and it will not end well for you.

Final note, Harry. Your family in the UK have loved and protected you for your entire life. Everyone accommodated you in your naked billiards in Los Angeles and Calgary. They did more than you could understand. Before it’s too late, and they finally get tired of your repeated bullshit, and trust me Harry, they will… make up with them. If that means ditching the wife, ditch her. Because she’s going to ditch you soon enough.

Trauma isn’t a renewable resource, my love. People are tired of your greatest hits on repeat. Better start the plans to turn that wife into the second act soon or the checks will start bouncing faster than those moon bumps. Oh and another thing, man the fuck up! Everyone has problems. You are not special. You’re not even a spare anymore. You’ve been replaced on all that. So why the hell do you still hold onto your childhood the way you do? Or those titles like you do? Oh you must be a masochist. You must like it.

Sincerely,

Nunya Business

[jjungkookislife]

Quarterly Fic Recs 2021 #2

Hello! I’m back with another rec list! Here are fics I’ve read, loved and thoroughly enjoyed in the second quarter of 2021! They are all very wonderful fics! Each story has its own genre, warnings (and are mostly 18+), so please take that into consideration before reading. If any authors would like me to untag them, please let me know. Enjoy!

Yoongi

before i leave you @hollyhomburg

summary: Yoongi Disappears- leaving behind a shattered pack. 8 months later, Jimin finds Yoongi in an H-mart of all places.

Hoseok

heart-on @junghelioseok

summary: my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick

Jungkook

charmolypi @njssi

summary: Work and pleasure should never be combined — or so the saying goes. But you were never really one to follow the rules in their entirety and neither were the ones around you. Love, lust, interest. Five people. In the workplace. What could go wrong? Everyone just wants to get something, after all.

when you least expect it @johobi

summary: You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.

wherever there is you @jeonstudios

summary: you’ve been drinking, haven’t you?

instant gratification @dovechim

fuckboi@jungkook x cheerleader!reader

haze @yyooni

summary: So you’ve fucked the biggest fuck boy on campus. It’s a one and done. One night stand. A wham bam thank you ma’am. So why does it happen again?

OT7/Multiple Members

because i’m yours @minniepetals

summary: you should have known they’d never let you go after gathering the courage to ask for a kiss

blazed @ironicarmy

summary: Your friends try to cheer you up during Christmastime, but things go south once Hoseok appears with a mysterious brown bag.

Seokjin

one step @cutechim

summary:  attending an ex’s wedding is never easy, but you might just have the perfect remedy—if you can pluck up the courage to take it.

platonic @joheunsaram

summary: Finding a new method for stress relief, you rope in your bestfriend/fwb to try it out with you.

show me yours and i’ll show you mine @ktheist

summary: you’re a horny bunny yet kim seokjin always seems to manage to slide out of your grasps like a fox every time.

Yoongi

before i leave you pt. 7 @/hollyhomburg

summary: Pack omega kim Seokjin knows how to handle things when they go south (or alternatively you get triggered, Yoongi has a panic attack, and it’s a good thing the pack is there to help)

Hoseok

risky business @yoonjinkooked

summary: The person who invented smart glass office walls knew what they were doing. Your secretary fucks you stupid in the office.

snapshot @xjoonchildx

summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love

keep me warm @ppersonna

summary: camping is always a great time when you’re with your friends, but even better with your boyfriend, hoseok.

it’s you @jinpanman

summary: An accidental confession throws your years-long friendship with Hoseok into disarray.

Namjoon

love bytes @stutterfly

summary: It’s been a year since you first met Kim Namjoon, the passionate, talented English professor at the local campus. He’s always been clumsy and aloof, but he’s on a whole new level in terms of “technologically incapable.” One call to IT was all it took to pull you into his life, and with it a whole string of friendships full of flirtatious banter and undying support.

Your dating situation has been drier than the Sahara for years now, and you’ve wasted too many lonely nights drinking alone, so you try your hand at Tinder. But you’re not getting any bites. When the group finds out, they are more than willing to help–even Namjoon, though he finds it increasingly difficult to deny that he’s hopelessly smitten. You consider their opinions on potential Tinder dates while fighting off feelings you never knew were brewing for the caring soul who becomes the home you never had.

out of my league @/ppersona

summary: Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

so this is love @jinpanman

summary: “So this is the miracle that I’ve been dreaming of. So this is love.”

problem solved @sugasbabiie

summary: Namjoon helps you with more than math problems tonight.

love is @hxseok-honee

summary: they say that love is supposed to transcend time and space and that it knows no limits. but putting an ocean and thousands of miles between two people won’t make things any easier, will it? 

Jimin

potent pink @dntaewithluv

summary: The first time you see Park Jimin you’re instantly entranced by him. And it turns out he lives in the apartment next to the one you’re moving into, so even better he’s your hot neighbor. When the previous tenant confesses to you that he was the best hook up she ever had, you’re that much more intrigued. The first time you meet him, however, you’re deciding immediately that you hate him and want to stay as far away from him as possible. Jimin is determined to be a constant in your life though, and he definitely is that. Both a constant flirt and a constant pain in your ass. Is a ruined second impression enough to prevent you from ever giving him a second chance?

Taehyung

hush, yeah? @kithtaehyung

summary: the innocent accident that started it all

unfinished business @/dntaewithluv

summary: Besides wanting to catch up with some old friends, there’s only one reason you found yourself agreeing to attend your 10 year high school reunion. The boy you were in love with back then is going to be there, and you’re determined to finally make your move. Except, unfortunately, it turns out that Kim Seokjin is very much happily married. Kim Taehyung, however, is very much single and feels like he has something to prove to you after you turned him down all those years ago. One night is all it takes to make you realize you made the biggest mistake of your life.

under the covers @jessikahathaway

spy!au

darling @bloomsuga

summary: “go to sleep, darling.”

as endless as the stars ^

summary: he waited 160 years to meet you again, and now that he has, he’s not letting go. or: “i love you as deep as the ocean and as endless as the stars”

dirty dishes @jaysdimples

summary: when your boyfriend can’t seem to keep his hands to himself so he stirs up a little trouble in the kitchen while everyone else is a few feet away in the next room

devotion @/sweetbunnykook

summary: You and Taehyung were inseparable once. When you come back to your hometown after three years, fate pulls you back to him. And this time, Taehyung won’t ever keep his eyes off of you.

Jungkook

commercial break; twelve @1kook

summary: Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee.

tease @adonis-koo

summary:You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

jock!jk @angelguk

summary: going raw with jock jk

evolution of a lover’s heart @jeonstudios

summary: the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins.

euphoria @btssavedmylifeblr

summary: At the end of your life, you are given one day to live again with the man you loved. A lifetime’s love story told in a single day.

idealizations concerning real life relations @venusiangguk

summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

relax @itsbuffsanta

summary: jk is antsy after the concert, so you help him relax.

employee of the month @/dntaewithluv

summary: Sometimes it truly amazes you how much of an idiot your boyfriend can be. But you also find it impossible to say no to him. Even when it involves letting him fuck you at his work on the same day that he gets awarded employee of the month…

ego 08 @suga-kookiemonster

summary: what’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way.

only you 10 @sweetbunnykook 

summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.  

lunchbox lovers @jiminrings

stem major!koo x cold senior!y/n

crunchyroll & rail @/1kook

summary: Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket.

only for you @jikookiekosmos

summary: It’s the night before your wedding and you should be happy…but a fight with your fiancé leaves you second guessing everything. A visit from the blue-haired boy of your dreams is just what you need to make it right.

lillies @dewykth

summary: “… white lines, pretty baby, tattoos, don’t know what they mean, they’re special just for you…”

bluekooberry @kimtaehyunq

summary: Your adoring boyfriend, Jungkook, surprises you with a brand new hairstyle before your trip to visit him for the weekend. He’s excited to see you, feed you, and give you exactly what you want.

bad reputation @noteguk

summary: in which you have to deal with some strange emotions for the first time.

not yet @bratkook

summary: jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship

incoming: elite chatboy @kookingtae

summary: welcome to Elite Chatroom, a sex chat company with a wide variety of services such as text messaging, phone call, and video chat. you signed up online for the most basic text service plan not knowing what to expect, but you certainly didn’t think you’d end up actually liking the man behind the screen.

ineffable @euphoria-vmin7

summary: your best friend Jeon Jeongguk has always been amazing and deserved the best, so you’ve hid your love for him. But unbeknowsnt to you, there may be feelings that could change everything between you two…

touch @gardentulips

summary: when you tease and please one another

Multiple Members

friendly fire @kpopfanfictrash

summary: The dynamic: Hoseok; your friend and previous fuck buddy. Jungkook; Hoseok’s roommate and subject of your massive crush. The scene: determined not to drunk-gush about your crush any more (to his face), you decide to seclude yourself from all campus parties. Until, of course, Hoseok guilts you into a favor. Things spiral from there.

the boys are back in town @/dntaewithluv

summary: Getting stood up by your date definitely hadn’t been on your agenda for the evening. Also definitely not on your agenda: bumping into Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook. Together. On the same exact night. It’s been a while since you’ve seen your two best friends, as well as lovers on multiple occasions, from your high school and college days. A chance meeting, some drinks, and a trip down memory lane is all it takes to reignite the attraction between the three of you. Old habits die hard, but these two? They just might be the death of you.

ruin you @taegularities

summary: “His eyes hold unfathomable darkness that lures you in, captures your very soul, steals any air you are trying to draw. And you know without a doubt that you’re on the path to utter and irrevocable ruination.”

ruin you (once more) ^

summary: Taehyung and Jungkook can’t keep their hands off you. Not even in the elevator.

Seokjin

kairos @luffles424

summary: When your financial aid falls through for your last year of school, you fear you’ll have to drop out and postpone your degree. Until Taehyung gives you a suggestion to make a lot of money, quick. His idea can’t possibly end well, can it?

appetence @luffles424

summary: appetence (n.) - an eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bondIt’s time for Seokjin’s rut. Are either of you prepared for this step?

tiny lights, tiny lies @ggukcangetit

summary: you aren’t sure when exactly your best friend’s brother went from being an oddly annoying set of broad shoulders to the shoulders you frequently fell asleep against.

Yoongi

the little things @kimtaehyunq

summary: When the present isn’t exactly enough for you right now, Yoongi is here for you through it all. He makes sure you know you aren’t alone and that it’s ok to feel alone.

cyberslut @kimnjss

summary:  he has no idea who you are… up front, you’re sweet and innocent - but in reality you’re the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.

yoongi drabble @joonsgalore

life guard au

Hoseok

benefits @cutechim

summary: you and hoseok have taken the ‘friends’ out of friends with benefits, but exclusivity has its own perks.

Namjoon

namjoon drabble @lovetrivia

summary: You’re a hot girl on Twitch and Namjoon is an absolute simp.

Jimin

baby fever @writtenwhalien

summary: Jimin wants another baby, and much to your delight, he’s determined to give you one.

jimin drabble @/1kook

best friend au

small hands jimin drabble @lavishedinjimin

established relationship au

silk and lace @sunshyngal

summary: Min Nara is the newly dumped fiance to the Crown prince of Korea, Park Jimin. She’s not overtly upset , because at least now she can live her life without the pressure of the monarchy hanging over her head. Besides , Nara has a very dirty little secret. While she spends the day as the perfect high society girl with an impeccable pedigree , her nights are filled with lacy lingerie and webcams.  Ignored by the man she’s meant to marry, she revels in the greedy lust of strangers on the internet. It’s her way of saying ‘fuck you’ to a system that sees her as nothing but a toy, molded for the future King. Park Jimin doesn’t know the first thing about his supposed fiancee. And he has no intention of learning either. He knows just what debutante girls are like and he has no patience for the kind. Besides, his girlfriend of three years, the elegant and independent Irene is everything he would ever want in a wife . Or is she?Because in the secrecy of his office , after the day’s work is done , Park Jimin has a very scintillating vice that he likes to indulge in : the beautiful camgirl who calls herself the Temptress. Jimin can’t get enough of the girl’s lush thighs wrapped in silk, the pretty pink of her nipples in see through bralettes and the glittering temptation of the jeweled plugs she likes to stuff herself full with.Jimin thinks she embodies  everything he can never allow himself to have as a Prince : filth, sin and decadence , all wrapped up in Silk and Lace.

Taehyung

nip it in the bud @opaljm

summary: You’re not sure how you ended up here, but maybe a shitty ex and a horrible breakup had a hand in what placed you in front of the tattoo parlor. It was already a nerve-wracking experience, but what you never expected was seeing that the owner and artist giving you nipple piercings was your older brother’s best friend you hadn’t seen in ages. to make things even worse, he got fucking hotter.

taehyung drabble @joonsgalore

sugar daddy au

peanut @jungxk

summary: the making of peanut.

Jungkook

pretty kitty @venusiangguk

summary: you’re jk’s baby, his toy, and now his pretty little pet.

heavy metal @hisunshiine

summary: You come home from a trip to find your fuckbuddy has a… hole-y surprise.

devour @bloomsuga

summary: my sweet angel… i am going to devour you

grain of sand @jungkookiebus

summary: Blind since the age of 18 from a genetic disorder, Jungkook walked through life as if he never lost it, but on one fateful day seven years ago he literally almost runs into you. He fell in love nearly immediately. Fast forward to the present and it’s just another day in your quiet life with him by your side.

under the oak tree @mingoyeob

summary: as the eldest daughter of a duke, it’s your duty to marry at your father’s will. yet you didn’t expect to be marrying jeon jungkook, a knight of low status, especially when he departs for an expedition without another word after your first night. when he comes back three years later, this time as a renowned hero, how will you be able to face him and how will things change between you and your new husband?

jungkook drabble @1kook

dilf!jk

commercial break: thirteen ^

summary: Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today.

sh. @wwilloww

summary: How could you say no to a month away in the mountains with your friends after six months of grueling quarantine?

jungkook drabble @lavishedinjimin

daddy!jk

OT7/Multiple Members

the end @jimlingss

summary: It’s been a habit of yours to vent in the form of love letters. There’s six in total. They’re kept secret, hidden in your closet. But on your 30th birthday, what you least expect is for each letter to become reality. All done by the whacky ghost of Christmas future trying to grant your birthday wish.

[leiawritesstories]

Rowaelin Month, Day 11: Surprise kisses

Word count: 1168

Warnings: Just language, I swear. In apology for what I did yesterday...

When she heard the word “homecoming,” Aelin Galathynius pictured the cheesy and definitely unrealistic scenes of Netflix rom-coms. Assemblies where the entire school smiled and cheered as loudly as possible, the football team dominating Friday night’s game, and of course a packed hall of girls in semiformal dresses and guys in tuxes, dancing and shout-singing along to the fast songs and cooing at the handful of picture-perfect couples who took to the floor for the slow dances. 

She really should have known better than to expect Hollywood at Orynth High.

Did they have an assembly? Yes, of course. The student body president sported a rather badly painted depiction of their mascot on his chest, and only about half of the students actually visibly gave effort during the cheer. And the ones who did were clearly ogling the cheerleaders. Aelin snickered, remembering her freshman (and only) season in cheer two years ago, when she learned of the simple and very effective single-finger gesture the cheer squad used to tell the pervs where they could shove their ogling.

Was there a football game? Absolutely. Did Orynth win? Yes, to the utter shock of everyone in the stands, they did. Rifthold High got ahead early in the first half, but somehow, Orynth picked up on defense and on actually receiving the ball, scored three times in a row in the second half, and held Rifthold to only one field goal that half to win 36-24.

It was their first win of the season. 

And the dance? Well, it certainly wasn’t as “formal” as the movies showed.

~

Rowan Whitethorn had never had much love for school events, particularly homecoming, but when one was the star senior quarterback, one made sacrifices. 

He’d genuinely thought the team was screwed at the end of the first half. The locker room was quiet, all the guys disheartened by the disaster that had been the first thirty minutes. And the Coach Bryaxis walked into the room, threw his clipboard at a locker, and told the team in very few words that if someone didn’t catch a goddamn pass, every single goddamn one of the goddamn pansies on this goddamn team would goddamn well be running stairs until they shat themselves. 

A very different team walked onto the field for the second half. And they won. Coach was so happy that he poured the Gatorade cooler over his own head and yelled something unintelligible that probably meant “My team finally fucking redeemed themselves!”

After a game like that, Rowan couldn’t bring himself to skip the dance, even if it meant being subjected to about thirty different freshmen and sophomore chicks in skimpy dresses, stilettos, and cakey makeup flirting with him. If he was lucky, only twenty of them would be teetering on the edge of intoxication. Sure enough, within five minutes of him and the rest of the team walking into the crowded but shockingly well-decorated gym, a girl who couldn’t possibly be old enough to have a driver’s license sauntered over, her boobs practically falling out of her spangled minidress, and in what she must have thought was a flirty voice, asked if Rowan “wanted to show her his moves.” 

Before Rowan could open his mouth to redirect her, Lorcan Salvaterre, his wide receiver, stepped forward in all 6′3″ of his glory and said, “Oh yes, I would.” He was halfway into the crush of dancing bodies before the girl could even squeak out that she hadn’t been talking to him. 

As the rest of the team dispersed, finding their way onto the dancefloor, Rowan slipped to the edge of the throng, just close enough that he could pretend he was looking for a partner, and eyed the clock. Thirty minutes, then he could go home. 

But then someone caught his eye.

~

Aelin walked into the gym with Lysandra, Elide, and Ansel, and immediately regretted her choice of dress. The emerald-green, sleeveless sheath hugged her upper body and flared slightly into a skirt that ended just above her knees. It had clear elastic straps to keep the top from falling off, which for her was a requirement. She couldn’t accidentally flash the entire student body of Orynth High at a dance; their Instagram stories would never let her forget it. The moment she and her friends entered the building, Aelin could feel the floor vibrating beneath her three-inch heels. The budget strobes the committee had managed to find in some attic somewhere flashed in a predictably boring rotation of green, blue, violet, pink, yellow, and white. 

“El! Some chick’s dancing with your man!” Lysandra yelled over the music. 

Elide looked over at the floor, where Lorcan was indeed dancing with someone, his face predictably emotionless. She snorted. 

“It’s his gentleman act again; he’s probably saving Rowan’s ass from the little sluts who think they can catch the attention of the big hunky QB. Give me about twenty seconds and you’ll see chica over there running for the hills.” 

“Or just the baseball team,” smirked Aelin. Elide winked saucily at her and headed in Lorcan’s direction. 

Making her way partially into the horde of dancing students, Aelin smothered a grimace. She’d forgotten just how much she hated these things. Everywhere she looked, there was grinding, groping, body odor, half-shirtless guys who thought unbuttoning the top buttons of their dress shirt made them look hot, and an abundance of awkward dance moves that vaguely resembled, as Ansel so elegantly put it, “Dance Moms on lots and lots of crack.”  

In short, a typical Orynth High dance. 

She glanced at her phone. Thank God. Thirty more minutes and she could get the hell out. As she danced her way through the edge of the crowd, she ran smack into a solid chest.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn--”

“Aelin?”

“Rowan?”

For a few seconds, they just stared at each other, each disbelieving that the other was actually present at the dance. Rowan ran a hand through his hair. “God, this is awkward. Dance?”

Aelin chuckled. “Sure, but please, for the love of God, over by the doors. I need some real air.”

“Agreed. And an easy getaway.”

So they danced back through the crowd, finally ending up over by the exit doors. When the song changed, Rowan grabbed Aelin’s hand and pulled her outside. She looked up at him, brows raised. 

“Done already? Hmm, I thought you had more stamina than that.” There was no mistaking the innuendo in her voice. 

Rowan’s voice dropped about two octaves. “Comment on my stamina again, I dare you.”

Before Aelin could make a snarky retort, Rowan’s lips met hers. She sighed into his kiss, twining her arms around his neck. When he pulled back some time later, his eyes were bright. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Standing outside their high school gym, totally ignorant of the cool night breeze, Aelin kissed her boyfriend again, reveling in his presence. 

“You came to the dance for me, didn’t you.”

He smirked. “I’ll never admit it, Fireheart. But yes.”

[cherrychilli]

Slip of the Tongue

A mini series I 18+ I Enemies to lovers

Chapter two

Eddie Munson x neighbor! reader

Reader and Eddie are the same age - she's in College and he's repeating his senior year once again.

Chapter Summary: Eddie invites you back to his room for a one on one demonstration of his skills.

A/N: Sorry for edging y'all last chapter. This one's pure smut start to finish. Enjoy💛

Chapter warnings: Oral sex (f), fingering, squirting

Tag list rules:

New additions: Make sure to both reblog the chapter and comment to let me know if you'd like to be added to the list and PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE CLEARLY LISTED IN YOUR BIO IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED. AGELESS BLOGS/BLANK BLOGS/MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Current tag list: Make sure to reblog the chapter if you'd like to remain on the list for future updates.

The stress had taken its toll on you.

Juggling two part time jobs while studying for your college midterms had you running on fumes, unable to unwind no matter what you tried. The little time you had to yourself was usually spent catching up on sleep but that wasn't ever enough to reinvigorate you, not when you had other needs that went unmet in the meantime.

You were desperate for some real stress relief, bordering on delirious. You had to be because how the hell else could you explain ending up in Eddie Munson's bedroom? Lying in his bed, your panties amongst the litter of cassettes and fantasy magazines strewn across his bedroom floor, and said boy's head between your thighs.

"You better not be wasting my time, Munson", you tried your best to sound tough, a near impossible task when his lips are brushing against your inner thigh, so very close to your slit. He had your skirt pushed out of the way to bunch at your waist, large, rough hands wrapped around your thighs which bracket his face.

"So feisty", he cooed back in reply, breath puffing warm against your core.

It's all so painfully surreal, being here like this, but you try your hardest not to think about it too hard for the sake of keeping your sanity intact. About how Eddie's got you laid out and completely exposed, your bare pussy mere inches away from the boy you'd come over to yell at, the same boy who'd caused a fair amount of the tension he's now offering to help relieve with his tongue.

"Don't worry. I'm going to take real good care of you", he breaks you out of your internal spiral, a teasing but lighthearted lilt to his voice as if somehow, he'd sensed your nerves.

And then he says, "You ready?"

It's a simple yes or no question, much easier than the ones you've been pouring over for days in your practice tests but you find this one the hardest to answer. Not because you're unsure of what to say – you had your answer ready and tucked at the back of your throat ever since his fingers climbed up your thighs to tug at the waistband of your panties.

No, it's because you’re certain that when you answer him, everything’s going to change.

"Yeah...go ahead", you manage to wring the words from your throat, fingers clenching his sheets, eyes trained up at the ceiling because watching him somehow feels like too much.

The few seconds that elapse before his mouth descends on you feels like you’re freefalling, a sharp, plunging descent with no way to prepare yourself for the impact of his tongue gently licking at your folds, thighs jerking as he lapped at the slick which had gathered when you watched him play through the window.

"Y' know, for someone who's always in a sour mood you taste pretty fucking sweet", he smirked, knowing it would set you off, thumb momentarily skimming your folds in place of his tongue.

Ordinarily, a comment like that would have earned him a knee to the groin but now, in this maddeningly bizarre situation you've find yourself in the middle of, your body reacts against its usual instincts, hips shifting off the bed to chase his mouth for more.

"Don't stop", you mutter loud enough for him to hear, tone somewhere between commanding and imploring, eyes slipping shut.

You've never felt a warmth like the kind that seeps into your veins like sunlight when Eddie's broad tongue parts your folds, licking his way up to your clit to lightly swirl the pointed tip over your sensitive bud, hands bringing your hips back down to bed to hold them firmly in place.

"Shit, Eddie that's...nice", you sigh out, perhaps the most civil thing you've said to him in weeks.

Everything smelled like him – the sheets, the pillows, even you, you realize as you turned to press your cheek against his mattress, your hair now carrying the same woodsy, smoky scent, inhaling a little deeper to take in that undertone of boyish musk you find yourself strangely drawn to.

His scent.

Another soft swipe of his tongue along your folds has your toes curling but what's makes the fluttering sensation brewing in the pit of your stomach grow stronger is knowing that he's carrying your scent too.

"Oh fuck..."

The way his tongue roams you is slow and lingering, not at all like what you'd watched him do with his guitar but fuck does it feel good, having his fingers press into the meat of your thighs like he’s afraid you might slip through them at any moment, teasing your clit with soft kitten licks, plush lips occasionally trapping the bud to suck lightly before releasing it again.

He's building you up for what's to come, taking his time to find out what makes your breath stutter and your spine curve in an effort to press yourself closer to him, getting you to loosen up and give yourself to him.

Minutes go by like this though you’re not sure how many. Ten? fifteen? maybe longer, of him lazily laving and sucking gently and it's amazing but it’s also only nearly enough, steadily stoking the fire inside you. It’s enough to draw out a soft pants and muffled moans out of you, enough to make all the tension that had wound you so tight begin to unravel but not enough to grant you the release you're seeking.

Chest heaving, you can’t bring yourself to beg, afraid of what you might sound like if you did, a choked whine of Eddie’s name so close to spilling from your lips already. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing it.

Angling your right foot, you’re able to reach down and press your heel into his waist, not forceful, just enough to make him pull away from cunt, lips sheened with your slick and chin brushing the soft curls on your mound when he peeks up from between your legs.

“Need more already huh?”, he beats you to it, knowing and smug.

As much as you wanted to deny it, you already missed having his mouth on you. Lips pressing into a thin line to show your annoyance, you try to grasp at the right words from the jumble of them knocking around inside your head, hoping to pick the ones that might help you seem less needy than you actually feel, not wanting to boost his ego more than you probably already have.

“What you did earlier when you were playing… that was different”, you point out carefully.

“I know, I’m just getting you ready”, he explains matter-of-factly, eyes dropping back down to your cunt, gently spreading your folds apart with his thumbs with rapt attention.

“I am ready”, you try to argue, a little breathless but firm.

Eddie meets your stern gaze again and gives you a skeptical look in return, holding your stare for a few more seconds as if assessing you before he ultimately yields.

"Alright alright. Listen, uh - this might get a little intense so just um… pinch my hand if it gets too much for you and I'll stop, okay?", he winds one arm around your hip, holding out his hand for you to take.

The shift in demeanor has you slightly taken aback. He’d been so cocky for most this, showing shades of something softer at times but this was the most blatant display of that side of him so far – no sass, no crude remarks, no teasing jab. It was a side you’d seen glimpses of back when you were in school with him, that considerate streak he was sometimes partial to like when he’d taken in those freshmen who didn’t seem to fit in anywhere else. You never thought he’d show you the same kindness, no matter how veiled. Part of you even thought you didn’t deserve it after all the squabbling you’d initiated over the years.

Tentatively, you stare at the hand he offers you, his words echoing in your head loud enough to override your temporary and uncharacteristic bout of guilt.

Intense? Too much for you? Fuck, it's so hard to keep from wanting to grind your core against his face when he says things like that.

"You're pretty confident, aren't you?", you say instead, stalling so that you could discreetly wipe your palm against his sheets before you place your hand in his, afraid yours might be sweaty.

"Yeah, I am. And for good reason", he grinned, curling his much longer fingers around yours as you rest your joined hands close to your belly button, hoping he couldn't feel the storm of butterflies flapping their wings wildly inside your stomach.

“Oh, but first–”

Despite your best efforts, you can’t contain the pathetic yelp he rips from you when he pulls you closer by his free hand, picking your legs up abruptly to get them over his shoulders, spreading you even wider and getting you so close that you’re practically locked in place.

"Eddie-shit", you try to scold but it’s no use.

There’s no more soft, gentle licking when he dives in, tongue moving boldly to pulse against your clit with enough pressure to make your whole chest feel like its crackling with pops of electricity. He’d warned you it would be intense and you learned he was a man of his word, thighs twitching and quivering around his cheeks and curtain of curls. You squeeze his hand instantly, not pinching, he notices, a sign that it’s okay to continue as you throw your head back.

Spiraling again, you’re at a complete loss as to how good this feels. It never felt this good with the other boys and it definitely didn’t feel like this even when you touched yourself. How could someone who’s never touched you until today be able to get you like this so quickly and so easily?

Well, the position certainly helped. You’re entirely at his mercy like this, pinned in place from the waist down, suddenly very aware of how strong Eddie really is, not what you’d expected of someone who spent most of his time occupied with fantasy games. He groans, deep and rumbling, the vibration of it travelling through you while you fight to keep your teeth firmly set in your bottom lip, starting to writhe as he alternates between flicking your clit with his tongue and sucking on it, sloppy, wet, filthy sounds echoing plentiful in his bedroom.

It’s a riot inside your head – two thoughts competing and clashing fiercely; one part of you screams for him to slow down, that it’s all so much so fast despite having asked for it and the other roars back a resounding keep going, oh god, keep fucking going, overtaking the first.

But Eddie isn’t privy to any of this – you don’t want to let him know because even with the way he’s making it harder and harder for you to not just cry out for more, you’re much too stubborn to actually do so – knowing full well that if you were to let on just how much you’re enjoying his ministrations, he’d never let you hear the end of it.

Easier said than done.

Your resolve is withering at an alarming rate, not sure how long you can keep true to your vow of silence when he slips his tongue into your opening, pleasure and relief melding into one now that you have somethinginside you, curtailing the ache of being empty for this long. He fucks you with it, driving it in and out, lavishing you from the inside with every stroke and drag of the slippery muscle against your walls.

“Oh Ed– oh fuck”, you blabber, hips bucking up against his face. You clench around it, clit throbbing in the absence of his tongue swiping over it but the way his nose bumps the tender pearl with every sloppy thrust of your hips more than makes up for it.

He lets you rut against his face like that, only pulling back and away minutes later but you’re not left wanting for long.

A sharp gasp is pulled from you when a finger plunges into you, another joining not too long after. You feel stupid for forgetting how well those fingers moved on his guitar when he curls them inside you, long and thick, reaching deeper than your own, filling you better than his tongue did.

“Shit, listen to you”, he tutted, cunt sopping and squelching loud enough for your whole face to flare up. “Got this worked up just for me, huh?”

He wants to hear you beg; you know it. Rather than replying you whine between ragged breaths, containing the rest that threatened to spill out in moans and cries for more. But it’s nowhere near enough to satiate him now. Eddie frowns, face clouding with irritation. He wasn’t going to let you get away with stifling yourself any longer.

“Tell me how good I make you feel”, he says, tone losing its playful lilt and gaining a firm edge instead, eyes darkening.

“I’ve been real generous with you today – even after all your fucking attitude”, he punctuates with a particularly rough thrust of his fingers into your cunt, another gasp tapering into a whimper falling from your lips.

“Not g-gonna say it…” you tremor, so clearly affected by what he’s doing to you. 

He laughs but there’s no amusement there, only something foreboding glinting in his eyes. “Can feel you, honey – trying so hard to hold back but you’re soaked and you’re squeezing me so tight”, sinking his fingers in up to the knuckles.

“C’mon, I’m not asking for a lot, am I?  just say the words and I’ll let you cum,” he murmured, amber eyes hooded and locked on yours.

“Eddie-”, you start, hating how it came out all pitchy and wavering, hating it even more when you see how much he liked hearing his name leave your lips like that. “You said you would- this isn’t what we agreed- “

“Do it or I’ll stop”, he cuts you off, unsmiling. You can tell he isn’t joking when his pace falters and his fingers still inside you.

The fear of him stopping when you’re already so close rushes in with torrential urgency, no time to feel embarrassed by how quickly or how hard you squeeze his hand when you feel him begin to unweave his fingers from yours to make good on his threat, your steely grip preventing him from slipping away, begging him to stay.

“Please...”, you begin to crumble, breathy and desperate and aching for him to finish what he started.

The smile pulling at his slick lips tells you he’s appeased, pumping his fingers inside you again, slow but deep, stretching you well.

“Go on…” he encourages, speeding up when you let loose an unrestrained moan that comes out all high and pretty for him, helpless to his touch, your building arousal making you grow compliant.

“Fuck -Eddie, I’ve- I’ve never felt this good before”, you relent with a sob.

“Yeah? Poor baby – always working so hard… got no one else to take care of you. Needed it so bad, didn’t you? Couldn’t even control yourself when you saw me today, huh? Climbed in my bed and spread your legs even though you say you can't stand me”, he grins wickedly, tone thick with condescension.

He was right. For years, you were gasoline and him, the match, all of that smoldering friction between the two of you culminating in the most surprising way.

“But now you can’t get enough of me.”, he finished with a sneer.

Something new blossoms beneath your ribs – humiliation.

But instead of trying to shy away from it you find yourself welcoming the way it sprouts up like tendrils, winding around you all slow and creeping, all because you’ve been put in your place, rendered a mewling, gasping, desperate thing by the boy you’ve spent far too much time despising.

“Wanna feel your mouth on me again”, you blurt between pants, a broken, pitiful sound.

“Need you to make me cum – please”

He watches you struggle under the weight of your own desire, willing to debase yourself if it meant he’d grant you your release and it makes him chuckle, satisfied.

“Was that so hard?”, he flashed you one of those impish, shit eating grins before his mouth is on your clit again, fingers driving inside you in tandem. Your free hand shoots out to weave into his hair, clutching it like a lifeline.

The combination sends you careening towards the edge, the feeling starting to become too much when he sucks hard on your bundle of nerves but there’s no way to pull yourself away from him – not that you wanted to. Not really.

Your whole body tenses and ripples when it crests, something white hot barreling its way out of you – too fast and too intense to warn him, cunt fluttering around his moving fingers, thighs squeezing, throat growing hoarse from your cries.

It runs through you in crashing, gushing waves, leaving you shaking and keening, lungs burning for air until breath returns to you slowly, roiling intensity settling down into pulsing aftershocks. They subside when the afterglow comes next and you relish the way it drapes over your quivering body, lips trembling and chanting whispered exclamations of ‘oh my god oh my god oh my god’ up at the ceiling, still reeling from it all. It’s only when the sensation of weightlessness that had cradled you for those moments following your orgasm begins to recede that you spring up, elbows pressing into the mattress to support you, heart shooting up into your throat when you catch sight of Eddie.

And it’s worse than you thought.

His cheeks, mouth, jaw and neck are soaked, as is the collar of his shirt now clinging wetly to the dip between his clavicles. Oh shit it’s in his hair too, noticing a few dampened ends which stick to the fabric near his shoulders.

In the thick fog of your afterglow your mind turns sluggish – too slow to piece together what exactly had happened as your eyes lowered in search of what caused Eddie’s current state. Realization sets in after a few seconds of delay in the form of a swooping, twisting flurry in your belly, worsening when you find the same wetness coating your inner thighs and pooling on his sheets, your ass resting in a little puddle of well, yourself.

You've squirted all over his face and his bed.

"I've never done that before”, you breathe out, both stunned and mortified at what you’ve done. Though your worry lessens somewhat when you dare to look at Eddie again, the look on his drenched face telling you that he’s anything but upset about it.

“I’ve never made anyone do that before”, he utters back, sharing your surprise.

Your hand which somehow had managed to stay clasped in his throughout the whole thing is finally returned to you when you both loosen your hold on each other, awkwardly pulling away enough for you to scoot off the damp spot on his bed and for Eddie to ease up onto his knees, which he realizes a little too late was probably a mistake.

Your eyes dart to it when you hear his sharp inhale, widening at the sight.

There's a new elephant in the room to address now – the massive erection straining against his sweatpants.

Silence shrouds the room, both of you speechless, panting and sweaty. He makes no move to cover himself and you don’t think to set your gaze anywhere else.

You’re not sure why you did what you did next, only that you felt compelled to do so.

Easing up on to your knees, you come face to face with Eddie, skirt falling back down to conceal you. Your fingers move seemingly on their own accord, curling into the waistband of his sweats, fingertips grazing the hot skin that lies underneath and for some reason he lets you, watching you closely albeit a little disbelieving. This wasn’t part of your ‘agreement’. He’d offered to get you off and you had accepted but that was the extent of it, neither of you giving much thought as to what would happen after but here you are, chasing after more.

Inches away from his lips, you can smell yourself on his skin. That tangy, earthy essence he'd lapped at and drunk down so eagerly for the past hour. What made him like it so much? What made him want to do this all in the first place? You wanted to ask him but more than that, fingers tightening on the cotton waistband, daring to dip inside and skim the course trail of hair above his pelvis, you wanted to find out what he tasted like too.

You draw a little closer and so does he, nose brushing his, chin tipping up, eyes slipping shut…

But your lips don’t meet.

Whatever was about to happen is cut short then, the both of you whipping your heads in the direction Eddie’s bedroom door, on the other side of which comes the sound of the front door unlatching and a set of boots stepping through the entryway.

Wayne’s home.

“Fuck”, you exclaim in unison.

Sharing a panicked look with Eddie the two of you begin to scramble quietly off the bed, not wanting to risk alerting Wayne to your presence in their trailer.

You liked Wayne. Despite his gruff exterior he’d always been fair to you and your family but the last thing you wanted was to get caught out in his nephew's room. Like this.

"Shit – I can't believe I'm saying this now but...you have to go", Eddie winced as he whispered to you, looking increasingly more regretful with every word he’s forced to let out in reference to your departure.

"No– It's okay. I get it, I really should leave", you hush back in agreement, looking all kinds of frazzled and just as sympathetic given you bare as much of the responsibility for how things escalated the way they did.

You get your shoes back on as quickly and quietly as you can manage, panic rising when Wayne calls out something from the kitchen about dinner.

“Be right there!”, Eddie yells back, swooping down to pick your panties up off the floor, sheepishly handing them to you and you ball the underwear in your fist, suddenly too embarrassed to let him look at them despite everything that’s transpired.

And with that brief brush of his fingers against yours, a moment hangs over the two of you as you stare at one another, a moment that begs for something more to be said about the situation.

But what could you say?

"Thanks for the head?"

"Sorry about the mess. I hope it doesn't leave a stain?"

Nothing feels right no matter what you try to scrounge up and scrape together from the recesses of your mind so reluctantly, you don’t say anything at all, turning towards the window and letting him help you out through it, a faint sense of something sour washing over you when his fingers slip away from yours.

The walk back to your trailer is a short one but it’s made all the more difficult on unsteady, wobbling legs. Casting your gaze at every neighboring window in search of anyone happening to look outside, you try your best to look as inconspicuous as possible despite your ungainly stride and your disheveled state, scrambling up and through your front door.

Back in your room, slumping against your bedroom door, your thighs are wet and sticky, breath coming out in short, hurried puffs, heart thudding a mile a minute and you have just one thought ballooning in your mind.

How the hell were you ever going to look Eddie in the eye after this?

-

Tag list: @sadlittlesquish @honey-flustered @cryingglightningg @cadence73

[eclipsedpascal]

Making Daddy Proud

Stepdad!Duncan x Female Reader

After moving in with your estranged mother and her new husband, Duncan Shepherd, you started to grow very close to your new stepdad. The two of you had a great relationship and he was doing his best to be a good father figure for you, knowing you missed your dad so much. But there was a problem, you found yourself insanely attracted to him and were starting to notice little things indicating he might feel the same way.

Warnings: very inappropriate relationships, Stepfather/stepdaughter relationship, Cheating is ofc implied, 20+ year age gap, daddy kink, unprotected sex (but I kinda imagined the reader to be on birth control so is okie😌) fingering (female receiving), choking, vaginal sex, oral (male receiving) and face fucking😃

Notes: Okie sooo I know some people will hate this fic and ofc I understand that, but if you do hate it then please don't send me any hate!! just don't read it🖤 anywayss I got dis ask saying "Concept: Stepdad Duncan x naive reader😉" nd omg i LOVE the whole concept of Stepdad!Duncan sm, like if you've been in the fandom for a while you'll probably know the fic "The Hand That Robs the Cradle" by Langdonsrapture nd that fic was my holy grail when it came out!! so you know I just had to go all out here nd get carried away writing it hehe:')

word count: 5.4k

●●●●●●●●

The opportunity to study political science at American University in Washington DC had been one you simply couldn’t pass up on, but unfortunately it meant moving away from your father to stay closer to campus grounds. You knew it was worth it in the long run, I mean you had been waiting on this chance for years and wanted to make your father proud, but you would miss him.

He was never home too much, always busy working, but he meant the world to you. It had been just the two of you for a long time now. Your mother had moved away once their divorce finalised 7 years ago, impulsively leaving you in his custody as she ran off and gallivanted around the world, meeting all sorts of interesting men she would tell you about.

Luckily for you, she had settled down with one of those interesting men in DC recently, and upon discovering your acceptance into the prestigious university she had offered you a place to stay whilst you studied.

It was a frightening move to make, but staying with your mother in DC had actually been pretty interesting. You hadn’t spent time with her in so long and it had been nice to catch up with her, I mean sure she had been a little distant, but that was expected with having not spent any real time with her in so long.

You were just grateful she had let you stay with her in the first place, thinking she would have probably preferred to be left alone with her new husband, Duncan Shepherd.

They had been married about four months when you moved in and from what you could see, things were going well; especially considering she had sprung the engagement on everyone pretty fast. You were just happy knowing she was happy.

Though you had only met the man in question once before moving in, he really seemed like a perfect partner. He didn’t have a single obvious flaw to him, but see that was the problem. He was completely flawless to you.

You had tried to find things you didn’t like about him, even just tiny things, thinking hating him would be far better than thinking of him the way had been, but no matter what you did, you just couldn’t seem to fault him. And the longer you stayed with them, the worse your little problem became.

You weren’t 100% sure of how old he was. You only knew he was in his early to mid forties. But being at least 20 years your senior, you knew he was definitely old enough to be fulfilling the role he was as your stepfather. It felt strange to have a new stepdad at the age of 20, (almost 21) but it was even stranger with you being so blindly attracted to him.

And it wasn’t even just his looks. Though, yes, they were quite the spectacle, it was more than that. He was confident and cocky, always knowing exactly what to do and say to make the people around him do whatever he wanted them to. He could make you laugh until your stomach was in cramps, and not just through telling dad jokes. Charisma rolled off of him in waves.

He was intuitive and crafty; smart to put in plainly. And his interests appeared to be more intellectually based than anything else, which was quite the opposite of your mother, so it baffled you as to how your mother had managed to snatch him up so easily in the first place.

Now it’s not that you were jealous, really. It was more that you didn’t understand how these two polar opposite personality’s had ended up colliding together in the manner that they had.

Whenever the three of you would sit and have an evening meal together, Duncan always made you feel welcomed in the conversation, which was a great comfort to both you and your mother, being the relationship you had was so strained. Because of this and the fact you both had quite a lot in common when it came to your interests, Duncan and you had become almost good friends in the small time that you had been living there.

It was obvious he was doing his best to be some kind of fatherly figure to you. knowing that you were missing your actual dad, he did his best to help you with the things he knew your dad usually would. Whether it was school work or just having someone to joke with from time to time. He was there.

Sometimes when he was there, though, you felt like maybe, just maybe, he felt something more too. Such as the moments where his stares would linger on your form for just a little too long, or the way he would sometimes fix your hair for you if it had strayed across your face the wrong way. Just small things he did that fatherly figures didn’t typically tend to do with their daughters; especially when his wife, your mother, was right there. Sure, she seemed oblivious to it, but you certainly weren’t.

●●●●●●●●

Taking your now lukewarm cup of coffee from the breakfast bar counter, you brought it to your lips and gulped the bitter liquid down, fighting viciously to stay alert. It was nearing 3am and you had been writing for hours. Concentrating was no longer your most favourable asset and your half lidded eyes were growing wearer by the minute, but you just had to finish this paper.

It was 17 percent of your grade and due in two weeks. A persuasive essay on propaganda within the current American political climate and you had been slowly working at it for weeks, but you knew if you left it hanging over your head any longer it would drive you insane.

Sitting back in the stool you resided on, you took quick solace in the many noises coming from the ajar kitchen window, listening to a low rumble of thunder, accompanied by the constant pitter patter of rain falling from the gloomy DC sky above. It had been hot and humid all week, eventually cultivating into large clouds that had now given in, spilling out showers for almost the entire day past.

You recalled all the time you’d spent by the pool with your mother and Duncan in the past week, enjoying the current heatwave by sunbathing next to it on one of the many loungers. The house was kind of set up like a hotel that way. With Duncan always needing to be prepared for any events he may have to hold for his company’s business associates or press, he had furnished the home with what was to the three of you, unnecessary seating and tableware; amongst other things.

You stirred, returning your eyes back to the last few lines you had written and attempted to go over them in your head, but quickly realised you couldn't even manage that without stumbling over them or jumbling the words up beyond comprehension.

Abruptly interrupting your confused stream of thought, was the kitchen door groaning open. So with a frown plastered to your face, you shot your head up to recognise the intruder. But your frown was quickly blown away at discovering that it was Duncan who had entered the balmy room, and he was in more glory than you had ever seen him.

You had seen his silhouette whilst he showered before. Having gone into his and your mother’s shared bedroom whilst searching for earrings, you had seen him through the whited out, frosted glass of the on-suit bathroom door. But this was something entirely different. This was him, stood in kitchen doorway with nothing on but his grey Calvin Klein boxers.

“Y/N? I didn’t know you were still up.” He quirked a brow at you, wondering why you were still sat in the kitchen so late at night. You swallowed deeply at the sight of him. Your eyes magnetised to his body, dilating with such a sultry image before them. Pulling your eyes back up to his face, you hoped he hadn’t seen their little detour down to his crotch.

“Uhm.. i’m, uh.. w-working on an essay.” Fuck! He’ll definitely know how nervous you are now. You looked away from him, too embarrassed to face him and cringing at your own attempt to speak. “It’s due in next week and I wanted to get it finished.” Okay that’s better, you thought. Maybe he’ll just think you’re just too tired to have a proper conversation or something.

“Oh, right,” he trailed off, looking you up and down a bit as he walked further into the room. You watched the back of his head as he opened the fringe, holding it open and scanning the contents of it. Deciding on a small bottle of water, he retrieved it from the middle shelf before closing the door and walking over to lean on the opposite side of the counter from you.

He didn’t seem too bothered by the fact he was practically undressed in front of you. Of course, you weren't complaining, but it was interesting. You tried to think of something else you could add to your open word document, wanting to distract yourself from his displayed body. But thinking as hard as you possibly could, your mind still brought you nothing.

You awkwardly pulled at the sleeve of your oversized ‘American University” sweater and hoisted it back up onto your shoulder. It had ridden down your arm whilst you were aggressively fiddling with your fingers - a nervous habit you had developed in your early teens. People would often point it out to you, but it was just one of those things you couldn’t stop doing.

There was a deafening silence stuffed between the two of you. So looking around the room, you tried to focus on anything in your line of vision that wasn’t him. It was just too hard seeing him like; his plump lips wrapped around the bottle’s mouth as he drank, his sleepy un-styled curls falling just above his perfectly manicured brows and wearing nothing but those fucking grey boxers. He was making it unbearably hard not to stare.

Deciding to speak, you cleared your throat. “So did you just wake up? Or could you not sleep?”

“Just couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the most random shit.. and you know how your mom is, she snores a lot.” He chuckled. His eyes never leaving you, beginning to feel as if they were boring holes into your soul as you kept full eye contact with him.

“Yeah, that must get pretty annoying.” You nodded slowly, thinking about how many nights you had spent wide awake when you were younger, all due to her roaring, loud snores passing through the paper thin walls of your childhood home.

“It does.” A smile played on his lips, taking another swig of water before speaking again. “so what’s the essay about?”

“It’s that one I was telling you about a few weeks ago, if you remember. it’s a persuasive on propaganda within the current American political climate.” You reminded him of the conversation you had about it when he dropped you off to class one morning not too long ago. The two of you often carpooled together, with the University campus being so close to his office, it made for an easy drive on the days he was needed in.

You guys would listen to playlists together on the drive and make fun of each others music taste, that was when you weren’t too busy being amazed by how similar they could be.

“Are you struggling with it? I mean, it is getting pretty late now.” He turned to check the clock which hung on the wall behind him, then looked back at you questioningly.

Duncan was good at helping you with this kind of thing. He was extremely well versed in politics, with his family’s background and all. Your mom had told you he used to be very involved with the white house, saying when he was younger he even went to prison for a short time before president underwood had pardoned him.

“I just can’t concentrate, but I really need to get it done or it’ll stress me out.” You lifted your bare feet up onto the stool seat, your knees coming up to your chest so you could rest your chin on them. You were only wearing panties with the sweater, it being too hot to wear anything more.

“Can I come over and check it?” He closed his bottle of water, tightening the lid with his muscular arms as he spoke. You had almost forgot he wasn’t wearing much before he said this, but watching him screw the bottle cap on as he asked to could come round to your side of the counter? It had you weak for him all over again.

“Uh.. yeah, course.” He padded his bare feet over the white, tiled flooring towards you, placing the bottle down on the counter and moving behind you to read the most recent paragraphs you had written. His hand was stretched over to the other side of you, resting on the edge of the breakfast bar as the skin of his arm grazed across your back.

Even with you being sat on such a tall stool, he still managed to tower over you. His hight was usually intimidating as it was, but with the added factor of him being almost completely undressed it was even worse. A small waft of air blew his expensive cologne towards you, creeping past your nostrils and possessing your senses completely before you started to feel his breathe on your upper neck. It wasn’t heavy, but it was enough to make your cunt start pulsating.

You were disgusted by yourself. He’s your mother’s husband! And your Stepdad! What the fuck was wrong with you? You could only imagine what people’s reactions would be if they knew of the truly sinful thoughts you had about him, and you hated yourself for it.

He was your type, yes. A rich, older man who wasn’t actually an asshole, and they were hard to come by, but that wasn’t relevant. You needed to control yourself. No matter how hard that may be.

“What you have so far is really good. Your argument is strong and as always with your work, it’s written well. You’re smart, Y/N. It’s impressive.” He humoured himself with a scoff, his voice interrupting your lewd thoughts.

You blushed at his compliment, hiding your face behind your knees slightly and looking up at him. “Thanks, Duncan.” You knew he was just trying to be a good dad figure to you, but you couldn’t help being attracted to the way he was so caring for you. Maybe it’s fucked up, but it’s not your fault all you need is an older man’s approval to become turned on.

“I mean it.” He looks so sincere as he talks to you. His face would be intimately close to yours if you hadn’t hidden it from him earlier. You notice his eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second, and then back up to your eyes again. His stare no longer felt friendly, but more.. lustful. Were you crazy or was he really doing this?

Suddenly he looks away from you, moving his eyes back to the laptop’s screen. “Maybe you should just get some sleep. I know you said it’ll stress you out, but if you get some rest you’ll be able to get back into it tomorrow with better concentration.” He does his best to steer the conversation back to where is once was, reminding himself that you’re his fucking step daughter and that he has a beautiful wife sleeping just upstairs.

“I know that, its just..” You sighed, blinking up at him. You brought your legs back down you hang over the edge of the seat, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how close he was to you, wanting to do nothing more than to drape your arms behind his neck an-.

“Nope I won’t listen to it. From what I can see it’s an incredibly strong piece of work already, so just go get some sleep and come back to it in the morning, okay sweetheart?” He laughed a little, looking down at you again.

That nickname. Sweetheart. He called you it all the time and yet it always managed to take your breath away. But the thing is, he usually wasn’t this close to you when he did. So when you squeezed your legs together and bite down on your bottom lip, doing your best to ease the overwhelming desire you felt for him in that moment, there was no way he hadn’t seen it.

You were frozen staring at him, his face static and unreadable. You hoped he didn't choose to shout at you for how repulsive your behaviour was, or maybe he would kick you out? Your mind began spiralling, wrapping itself in intricate knots as you held your breath, awaiting a reply from him.

“Do you like that? When I call you sweetheart.” His voice was deep, sultry and dripping with desire. Shock coursed through you. That was definitely not what you had expected him to say. He seemed even larger now, his confidence making you feel small in comparison as your mind scrabbled to find the words you were supposed to use in your current predicament, but it never found any.

"You like it when daddy gives you nicknames?” He moved his hand up and delicately grasped the skin where your neck met your jaw, his eyes half lidded with lust. Your heart was beating so fast now and your breathing had grown shallow. You were so lost for words, only able to whimper out a weak “yes” before looking down to his boxers, trying to avoid his eyes but still wanting him just as much as he now appeared to want you.

He lifted your chin and kissed you roughly, drinking in your lips as if you were the water he had ventured down stairs for all along; and you began to wonder if you perhaps were. Maybe you were what he had been craving, just as you had been craving him.

He pulled the stool closer to him with his spare hand, leading you to wrap your legs around his torso as you tangled your tiny fingers through his sleep rustled hair. It was passionate. His kiss was sloppy, yet perfectly executed as his tongue slipped past your lips to glide over your own. His greying stubble dug into your skin, burning it with pure contact.

You parted to breath; and for just a moment, though it felt like hours, you stared into each others eyes with a ferociously neither of you could nor wanted to tame.

He tuts. “You really shouldn’t drink so much coffee little one, it’s not good for you. And it’s all I can taste.” He couldn’t help but reprimand you for the little habit, he had just gotten so used to doing it over the past three months, and using it to tease you sounded even more appealing.

You opened your mouth to speak, but were cut off when he lunged at you again, kissing you viciously. He began to move his hands all across your body, his fingertips grazing over every inch of you they possibly could as he started to undress you, pulling your oversized sweater above your head and taking handfuls of your breasts. He was kneading them, leaning down to kiss and suck on them whilst he watched you throw your head back, completely enthralled by him.

You were taken aback by how quick things had escalated, your sense of control had deteriorated far too rapidly and was ebbing away even further with each little kiss he left on your skin.

His large hand slid down to your panties, playing with the lacy bow that was centred on the waist band. He hovered his hand over your heat, cupping it and feeling just how sticky you had become for him. You let out a moan, all sense of wrong and right leaving you completely as you uttered a soft “Daddy” and ground your cunt into the palm of his hand.

“That’s right. So desperate for daddy.” He mused, ripping your thin underwear off and dropping it down onto the floor beneath you. Bringing his face to yours again, your noses bumped and leant on each other for some kind of purchase, the both of you watching his hand as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, gathering a fair amount of slick on them before pressing two inside you.

“Ahh!!” You let out a moan, it was louder than you expected and reminded you of what was really going on here. Having been too caught up in the moment, you hadn’t even thought about how being complete fucking naked with your step father between your legs would look if your mother had decided to come downstairs.

“Ah, ah, shh baby. We don’t wanna get now caught do we?” His breathe was hot on your lips, whispering as to not alert anyone. “So tight.”

You whispered back. “I’m sorry daddy, it was an accident- mmph!” You muffled your moan.

“That’s it. Who’s my good girl?” He lay a gentle peck on you lips, only stopping as to allow you to answer his question.

“I am daddy!! I’m your good girl!” You spoke with urgency, but did your best to keep the volume low, which was quite the struggle in between moans. Duncan could see this, so he pressed your lips together. Kissing you into a muffled silence.

You felt his spare hand on your neck, squeezing it just enough for you to still breathe okay when he pulled away from your mouth, moving his lips to the shell of your ear and biting the lobe. He murmured in your ear. “Do you know how hard it was, this week? Having to sit there next to your mom at the poolside and see you just lying there like that?! That fucking bikini. It took everything in me not to cum right there.”

His fingers were moving slowly, going in deep and curling up against your g spot, making you cry out and lean on his shoulder, biting it to keep yourself quiet. he started to rub your clit in hard circles. He was so experienced. It was mind-blowing.

“Would it have served you more pleasure to know, I only wore it for you?” It was true, you had only worn it for him and it had obviously worked. You certainly had his attention now. He growled at this, pulling his fingers out and slapping your cunt.

He yanked your neck closer to him, speaking down to you. “Just for that? Get on your fucking knees.” As soon as he let go of your throat you were climbing off the stool and onto the floor. The heat of the room, and of your acts too, made the marble tiling feel like ice pressed onto your flushed skin. But you didn't care.

You watched him pull his boxers down, cock springing free, adjacent to his stomach. Never having been with anyone of this size before, you had never seen a cock this big. You reached out and touched it, feeling just how hard he was. He hissed at the contact, looking down at you as you watched his facial expressions with wide eyes.

You played with it in your hand, stroking it with one and palming his balls with the other. He stroked his fingers through your hair, giving you a reassuring look as you licked the tip. The salty taste hit your tongue, making you crave his cock even more. So without another second going to waste, you took him into your mouth as far as you could.

“Ahh fuck!” You began bobbing your head, your eyes fixed on him as a groan left his lips. He was watching you intently, threading his fingers through your hair and onto your scalp to get a good grip on your head. You let your jaw go loose, knowing what he was about to do and preparing yourself for it.

He started thrusting his hips into your face, his cock hitting the back of your throat with almost every shove. You had honestly impressed yourself, I mean you knew you gave good head, but taking a cock this big as it fucked into your throat was something to be proud of.

“Mmm that’s it sweetheart.” Your stomach fluttered at his approval. The gagging noises you were making giving him even more pleasure. “You just wanna make daddy proud, don’t you princess?” You mumbled a wet “yes daddy” around his cock, sending sweet vibrations through it as he pushed himself as far as he could into your throat.

You couldn't even fathom how this was happening. You had pictured this moment late at night with a vibe pressed to your clit far too many times to count, so it finally happening was something hard to comprehend. Somehow he looked even more handsome from down on your knees than you had ever imagined he would. His stubble contouring his face perfectly with the ‘o’ his lips were forming.

Suddenly pulling you off of him, you gasped out for oxygen and tried to wipe away some of the saliva dribbling down your chin. It was like a snapshot from one of Duncan’s wet dreams. You looked so incredibly fucked out. He thought it was beautiful.

“Come on little one, stand up. Daddy wants to fuck that tight little pussy of yours.” You moaned as he talked down to you, stroking his calloused thumb over your bottom lip and pulling it down just to watch it bounce back up again.

You stood up, finally wrapping your arms around his shoulders like you had wanted to all this time. He pulled you in for a kiss, one much slower than the rest, communicating something more to you than just pure sexual carnality. His embrace was comforting, making you feel protected and small in his arms.

His hands grabbed at your ass as he picked you up, sitting you back down onto the bar stool and adjusting the hight while his lips stayed connected to yours. Once the seat was low enough for his liking, he picked up your thighs, shelving them onto his hips and laying you back just enough so that you could lean on the backrest.

The room was sweltering, your body hot against his and anticipating having him buried inside you was getting too much to handle. He dragged his cock through your lips, teasing your clit and moving back down to almost enter you, but he never would. Just wanting to get you all worked up and loving the way you would squirm when he did.

“Daddy.. please.” You steadied yourself by holding on to the sides of the seat, hoping he would end his tournament and fuck you already.

He slid the head barely into you. “Hmm… Since you were so polite, suppose daddy should reward you.” He spoke calmly before snarling and stuffing himself into you, pushing as deeply as he physically could. He felt your walls clamp around him as he set his pace. It was a lot. Having never taken a cock this big and the fact he didn’t even let you adjust, you couldn’t help but wail out.

He shot his hand up to cover your mouth, needing to keep you quiet and seeing you clearly couldn’t do it yourself. “Wouldn’t want to wake up mommy now, would you baby?” you attempted to utter a “No daddy”, but his hand kept your lips glued shut.

He fucked you. Like really really fucked you. He was making the stool shuffle underneath you, the powerfulness of his thrusts causing you to slide down in the seat. The only reason you didn’t slip off completely being the barbarian hold he had on your hips.

It actually surprised you how rough he was. A pleasant surprise, of course, but he had been so delicately caring towards you since becoming your step father and now here you were, receiving the best of both worlds.

The closer you grew to your high, the more incoherent your thoughts became. His eyebrows were scrunched together, lips trembling as he picked you up off the seat and held you closer to him. Supporting your ass, his hips ricocheted up and off yours as he tried desperately not to yell out.

His thumb was brought back down to your clit as he pressed you up against him, swiping at it hellishly, trying to hurry up your release upon feeling your legs begin to quiver; and knowing his own was approaching rapidly.

“That’s it sweetheart, come around daddy’s cock… Gonna cum so fucking deep inside your cunt. Would you like that?” You could see a thin line of perspiration cascading down his cheekbone, he was almost breathless and his thrusts were messier now.

“Yes da-AHH!“ you whipped a hand up to your face, holding your mouth shut as you came. You dug the hand you had placed on his shoulder deep into his skin and was quickly reminded of his marriage to your mother. You hoped you hadn't left any nail indents she might see.

You felt his hot seed spurt onto your walls as he rested his head on yours, mouth open wide and letting out a silent groan. His release was long and powerful. The both of you were left panting, the only noise in the room being your own breaths and a small creak from the stool when he softly set you down onto it.

He pulled out, your mixed juices gushing out of you along with the sexual haze you had been overcome with. The severity of what you had just done began to settle in. His head still resting on yours as you started freaking out, contemplating what would happen if your mother was to ever find out what had just occurred.

You wrapped your arms around his back, needing his comfort and squeezing him in an urgent hug, which he returned. his fingers stroked the sweaty skin of your back, trying to ease the thoughts he too had running through his mind. He lifted your chin up, the look he had in his eyes telling you everything would be okay.

Kissing you cautiously, he savoured the feeling of your lips on his and prayed he would get a chance to feel them again. “Are you okay?” He whispered

You didn’t really know if you were. On one hand, that was something you had wanted for a long time and it had been far better than you ever imagined, but on the other you had just helped your stepfather cheat on your mother. “I don’t know. I think so.”

He stood up, grabbing your sweater and panties, handing them to you before putting his boxers back on. “Well, at least that paper won’t seem like such big problem now.” He chuckled, doing his best to find humour in a humourless situation.

You giggled a little, hurrying to throw on your sweater and being reminded of how he had ruined your panties. “True. Now this can hang over my head instead.” You wiped any left over salvia you had on your face onto your sleeve and thought about how you would probably need to shower after this. “At least the sex was worth it, right?”

He sent you a dark smirk, picking up his bottle of water and walking towards the kitchen door. “It was. hopefully it'll be just as good next time too.” You opened your mouth, faking shock at his confidence as you watched him open the door.

“Goodnight Y/N” He gave you one last look as he sauntered through the door, getting ready to close it behind him and leave you alone in the kitchen with no one but your thoughts. The thoughts of your acts. Remembering all the little moments you had just shared together.

In that last moment before he left, you struck eye contact with him, chewing your inner lip and speaking.

“Goodnight, daddy.”

●●●●●●●●

Thank you sm for reading!🥺🖤

Tags: @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @ntxoza @blakescoven @ghostangels @jimmason @fernfiction @brattylovee @7-wonders @angelicmichael @melodylangdon @instincts-baby i'm so so sorry if you don't like this kinda fic or it has triggered you in anyway, but just let me know if it has and I won't tag you in this kind of thing ever again! You can also let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list too:)

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 3)

Summary: Dean talks with Sam about his growing feelings for the reader before inviting her and Tessa over for the evening. Later on in the week, Dean and the reader head out on a date but it doesn’t exactly end smoothly...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,500ish

Warnings: language, brief mention of sex toys, minor frightening situation

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

_________

Dean’s POV

“Hey,” said Dean, answering his phone as he walked around the grocery store after dropping Y/N off at home. “You gonna come over for the game, Sammy?”

“I got a brief I need to write up for my boss unfortunately,” said Sam. “I can’t wait to quit.”

“Same. You tried these baked barbecue chips yet?” asked Dean, picking up a bag.

“Trying to force your guests to be healthy for once, doctor?” teased Sam.

“Well the girls are having a spa day thing I forgot about and Y/N and Tessa are coming over later for the game so I don’t want it to be a total dude fest of beer and more beer,” said Dean, putting the bag back and get some regular baked ones instead. “They should be over by second half but still.”

“Trying to impress this girl or something? With chips?” laughed Sam. Dean groaned and threw his head back. “Dean. You’re overthinking this. You know brownies are the real way to a woman’s heart.”

“See? I knew there was a reason I didn’t hang up on you yet,” said Dean, turning down the snack aisle.

“I take it the date went well if she’s coming over to hang out.”

“Yeah. She’s cool.”

“She’s cool? That’s all I’m gonna get?” asked Sam. “You haven’t had a girlfriend since you were twenty two and now that you have one it’s just cool?”

“Fine. I like her. She’s cute and she smells pretty and she’s…” trailed off Dean, tossing a tub of brownie bites in the cart.

“She’s what?” asked Sam.

“She gets me, gets what we went through.”

“Her parents fuck ups too?”

“No. But they died a few years ago. She’s got a sister about nine years younger. She’s just starting her senior year now. She’s had to raise her the past few years on her own.”

“...She really does get you then,” said Sam. “Where’d you meet her again?”

“I was taking a walk in the neighborhood. She was looking for their dog. They’re having a really hard time of it right now it sounds like but she just, keeps going with a smile.”

“She’s not a damsel though. Don’t try and sweep in and save the day too much you know. You’d hate that.”

“I know. I helped her get a job at our office since she just lost hers and they’re crunched on cash. Plus the sister is going to college next year,” said Dean.

“She should apply to that grant you got. Mr. Y/L/N helped you with it, right?” asked Sam.

“Yeah he...what’d you just say?” asked Dean, pausing in front of the dip section.

“The grant money. It paid for nearly all your undergraduate right?” asked Sam. “It’s the same one I did too.”

“Mr. Y/L/N,” said Dean, shutting his eyes as he realized why Y/N’s house looked so familiar. “Sammy.”

“What?”

“Y/N, the girl, her house...where was Mr. Y/L/N’s house?” asked Dean.

“Over on Pine I think,” said Sam. “I know it’s in your neighborhood somewhere.”

“Oh Sammy. Shit,” said Dean. “I think I know why he stopped talking to us a few years ago. His house, that’s Y/N’s house. Mr. Y/L/N was her dad, Sam.”

“No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way. Fuck,” said Dean adding some sour cream and onion and guacamole to the cart. “She’s gonna think I’m just trying to pay her back for what he did or something.”

“Yeah but you didn’t know that when you got her the job. You gotta tell her at some point but it doesn’t have to be a problem,” said Sam.

“Well what if he went and told his family about the guy he caught stealing? I’m sure she’d think I’m great then. Of course, the one woman that I’m like…”

“You’re like what?” asked Sam. Dean was quiet, heading over towards the beer cooler. “In love with?”

“Geez, Sam. I barely know her. I’m not in love with her,” said Dean. “I just...I could see myself being in love with her.”

“So...you pre-love her,” said Sam.

“Exactly.”

“Yeah there’s no such thing, dumbass. You’re fucking falling for this girl and fast.”

“I know,” said Dean, shutting his eyes by the milk. “She just...she feels like you. Like she’s got no ulterior motive. I just...something is telling me I can’t fuck this up. I’m not supposed to.”

“Then you won’t,” said Sam. “You sure it’s not like that thing with Lisa?”

“That was me ignoring all the crap because I thought somebody loved me. Sam the moment I met this girl like...I don’t know,” said Dean. “I don’t think she’ll fuck me over.”

“I hope she works out. She sounds special.”

“She is and that is terrifying.”

“Dean contrary to what we grew up with and how your love life has gone so far, there are people that have amazing relationships out there. You can be one of them if you want,” he said. 

“I know. Take a break and call at halftime or something, okay? The losers miss seeing your face too.”

“I will. Talk to you soon Dean.”

Reader’s POV

“Hello, Y/N,” said Tessa as you walked past her room an hour later. “How was Dean’s?”

“Good. He invited us over later to watch football. Some guys your age will be there too if you’re interested.”

“Alright,” she said. “Hey so you know how we were talking about sex stuff yesterday?”

“Oh yeah. We were gonna talk more,” you said. You took a seat in her desk chair and she sat up on her bed. “The fake dick thing, that was throwing you off, right?”

“Yeah. Well, I kinda talked to Hailey about that stuff last night and she has one. She like showed me it so I kinda get that apparently it feels good if there’s something up there?” she asked.

“Yes, it does. What’s with the questions about sex toys?” you asked.

“I know my birthday is coming up and I’ll be eighteen and I kinda…I’m a hormonal teenager and-”

“I can get you a private gift,” you said with a smile. “Just shut your door if you’re gonna do it when I’m home, okay?”

“I do that now.”

“Good,” you said. “I’ll pick out something small and by the time you want something more, then you can pick that out on your own, okay?”

“Okay,” she said. “Did mom ever...talk about this stuff with you?”

“No,” you said with a laugh. “I found out on my own. It’s perfectly normal and natural and guys aren’t the only ones allowed to get off on their own.”

“Not sure I’d ever ask her anyways,” she said.

“That’s what sisters are for,” you said. “You have fun at Hailey’s then?”

“Mhm. It’s okay if Toast goes to Dean’s later right?”

“Uh, let me check quick,” you said, pulling out your phone.

Hey. Toast can come over too right?

Duh, Y/L/N. He’s more than welcome. 

Okay. We’ll see you later.

Later sweetheart.

“Yeah, Toast is cool,” you said. You stood and Tessa cocked her head, smiling at you. “What?”

“How was your date?” she asked. 

“I like him. I like him a lot.”

“Good. Tell him if he fucks with you though I’ll kick his ass,” she said. “So will Toast.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it with this one.”

“Whoa, whoa, ladies,” said Dean as you and Tessa started to put on your shoes to head home after the game. “It’s only seven and you two need dinner.”

“What are you making?” asked Tessa.

“I was going to do enchiladas?” he said. Tessa looked at you and you nodded.

“Only if we help though,” you said.

“Alright. Tessa how about you make up some guac for us. You can hang out at the counter, get off that ankle of yours,” said Dean.

“He so likes you,” she said as you walked back with her to the kitchen.

“Yes, I do,” chuckled Dean. Toast followed close by and whined, pawing at your foot. “She okay?”

“My meds are home. Supposed to have them with dinner,” said Tessa with a sigh.

“I can run home and get them real quick,” you said. “Ten minutes.”

“Alright. We’ll get started without you.”

Ten minutes later you were back along with some of Toast’s dog food. You could hear laughter coming from the kitchen, Tessa snorting to herself.

“Here you go dork,” you said, popping the bottle down in front of her.

“Thanks,” she said, taking a few. You used a bowl and fed Toast some dinner while Dean worked on putting the tortillas together. “I like your doctor boyfriend.”

“Oh course you do,” you said, smacking her arm.

“Someone told me she’s turning eighteen in a few weeks. You got any big plans?” he asked as he tucked the last enchilada in a casserole dish.

“We might get a pizza,” said Tessa. “Nothing fancy.”

“Oh I think we can do better than that,” you said with a smile.

“I thought…” said Tessa and you shrugged. “We’re going out? Are we going to Monico’s like we used to?”

“Monico’s? That’s very fancy,” said Dean, giving you a quick look. “You got room for one more?”

“I…” you said, Dean cocking his head. “Sure. You wouldn’t mind, would you Tessa?”

“Yeah, Dean can come,” she said. “Oh shit, would they even let Toast in?”

“He’s a service dog so legally yes, they have to,” said Dean as he popped the casserole in the oven. “Y/N, why don’t you help me set the table. I never eat in the dining room anyways.”

You carried some plates in the room around the front of the house, staring at Dean as he set some spots down.

“Dean. That is a hundred dollar a plate restaurant.”

“It’s her eighteenth birthday and mine was real shitty. I can afford it. Let me. Please.”

“You can’t just buy stuff for her or me.”

“Why not? I like you. I care about you and she’s part of that so I think caring about her is going to be pretty important to you at some point so I might as well start now.”

“Dean.”

“What?”

“Thank you,” you said. 

“Oh. Well...okay then.” You left the plates on the table and walked around to where he was, Dean glancing away when you wrapped your arm around his waist.

“Let me go dutch at least.”

“Bake me a pie and we’re even,” he said.

“Alright. Pie is it, Dean.”

Thursday Afternoon

“Hello, Y/N,” said Dean. He grinned as he walked into the lab. “How’s the first week going?”

“She’s a fast learner,” said the lab manager. “What do you need, Winchester?”

“Just saying hi to our new colleague,” he said. 

“I already know she’s your girlfriend, Dean.”

“You’re no fun, Wesley,” said Dean. “You like it?”

“I like the pay. Wesley says after a little while I can take some certification courses and work on more complex things. The research hospital tied with the university is really good for that stuff,” you said.

“Oh yeah, those guys do pretty well over there. I think our last tech went on to the radiology program over there. I know blood and urine samples aren’t the most fun thing to work on but-”

“Dean this is more than what I was making as a paralegal even,” you said quietly. “This job is great and Tessa’s on better insurance now. Honestly. I owe you one.”

“All you owe me is a pie,” he chuckled. “You got plans tonight? I know you’ve been busy.”

“I’m free if you had something in mind,” you said.

“Do you maybe want to go out for dinner? Maybe do a round of bowling?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “Sounds fun. Pick me up at six thirty?”

“Sounds like a plan sweetheart.”

“Okay, were you conning me?” asked Dean as you walked back to his car that evening. You giggled and he pulled you into a noogie. “How the fuck do you go from a twenty eight your first game to one fifty? There is no way you weren’t pulling a fast one.”

“What can I say, maybe I just needed a warm up game,” you said. Dean ruffled your hair for a moment before fixing it, leaving his arm around your shoulder when your phone rang. “Hey Tess. What’s up?”

“I think somebody’s in the house,” she said quietly. “I’m in my closet with Toast.”

“Dean, call 911,” you said, his hand already moving into his pocket. “Someone’s in the house.”

“Y/N, I think they’re upstairs,” she whispered.

“Don’t say a word. I’m right here and Dean’s calling the cops right now. Toast’ll protect you until they get there okay?” you said. 

“Y/N, they say they’re already responding to a call your neighbor put in. The cops are there?” said Dean.

“Hello, Elmdale police department. Anyone home?” said a voice through the phone.

“Tessa it’s okay. Those are the police,” you said. “We’ll be home in five minutes okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

“Thanks again,” you said, saying goodnight to the officers. You shut the door after yourself, Tessa sat on the couch with her arms crossed. “Tessa how many times have I told you. At night, you lock the front door. The storm door is broken and has been forever. The front door’s been wide open for hours.”

“I don’t need you to yell at me,” she said.

“Tessa somebody could have walked right on in and-”

“Oh my God, I know,” she said. She stormed upstairs and slammed her door shut, opening it quickly for Toast to come inside before it slammed again.

“I’ve told her so many times,” you said as you paced the family room. Dean walked over and rubbed your arms, kissing your forehead. “Sorry.”

“She made a mistake. Kids make them. So do adults.”

“I know she’s shaken up,” you said. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“Yeah but maybe she won’t do it again,” he said. “She’s not the only one shaken up.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said.

“How about I crash on the couch tonight,” he said. “Give you girls some peace of mind.”

“You can sleep in my room,” you said.

“I thought you had a twin sized bed,” he chuckled. “The couch is fine. I want to. I wasn’t just talking about you two either.”

“You’re sweet,” you said.

“Oh I’m very aware,” he said. “Go talk to your sister.”

“There’s blankets in the cupboard under the TV,” you said.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said. He kissed you and you headed upstairs, knocking on Tessa’s door. 

“Tess. Can we talk?” you asked. The door opened slowly and she had her arms crossed at you. “I’m sorry for freaking out. I got scared too.”

“I’m sorry I forgot about the door again,” she said quietly.

“Tessa, we...we gotta protect ourselves. We gotta make sure we do things like lock doors and windows at night. Two young women alone in a house...I know your mind already went there once tonight. Please, please remember to lock the door from now, okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

“Dean’s gonna stay the night on the couch downstairs,” you said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry. Nothing’s gonna get past him,” you said.

“He seems like a really good guy. You deserve one of those,” she said.

“I think so too,” you said. “Night.”

“Night, Y/N.”

Dean’s POV

“Sammy boy, isn’t it past your bedtime?” chuckled Dean as he answered his phone, watching some late night TV quietly from Y/N’s couch.

“Shut up. How big is the guest room at your house? I was thinking of getting a new bed and just having it delivered there.”

“Oh, you finally gonna get off that tiny ass mattress?” teased Dean.

“De…”

“You can have the spare bedroom at the end. It’s bigger, got it’s own attached bath. Plus it’s empty so win win.”

“Would a king fit?” he asked.

“Probably. I’m not home right now but I can measure tomorrow for you,” said Dean.

“On a hot date?” laughed Sam.

“I was. Y/N’s little sister had a bit of a scare.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Kid just accidentally left the front door open and neighbor called the cops, cops came, Tessa heard it and freaked a bit. I’m crashing on the couch for the night. They’re a little shook up still.”

“Well someone’s gonna get some brownie points for that one.”

“Nah, Y/N knows I’m only here cause I want to be, dude.”

“Not at all what I said but whatever. Oh by the way, I got another call from mom today. I let it go to voicemail.”

“What’d she say?” sighed Dean, running his hand through his hair.

“She just like...wanted to say she’s thinking about us, like both of us or some shit.”

“Oh that’s nice. Better late than never, ain’t that right Sammy?” said Dean, rolling his eyes and laying down on the couch.

“Dean. I’m not saying...can I ask why you hate her so much?” Sam asked after a beat. Dean moved the phone away and shut his eyes. He put his head down and let out a deep breathe, moving the phone back. “De.”

“She’s not a good person. You know that. Leave it at that.”

“Did she smack you around too?” asked Sam quietly.

“Dad at least you knew was an asshole. She pretended she wasn’t though and she’s just a bitch that blames her shitty life on us when we turned out awesome. She can get fucked along with him.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Yeah. Block her number Sam. It’s the best thing you can do.”

“You think there’s no chance of anything with her then.”

“Mom’s shouldn’t tell their kids the shit she said to me. Ever. I’m just glad you never got it as much.”

“I punched her in the leg once,” chuckled Sam. “Got my ass spanked but it was worth it.”

“What’d she do?”

“I just remember she made you cry real bad and I got as pissed off as a seven year old could.”

“We got each other’s backs,” said Dean. “All that matters.”

“Tell me about Y/N,” said Sam, Dean shaking his head. “Come on. No more depressing shit. She sounded cute when I talked to her at the game Sunday. I bet she’s cute.”

“She is,” said Dean. “I’m super into her, like super into her, don’t get me wrong but like...I just like her too. Like she’s gorgeous but it’s not like, why I’m attracted? I’m probably not saying this right.”

“I get what you’re saying,” said Sam. “You should totally take her to Mel’s for dinner tomorrow.”

“I really ought to take her to a sit down restaurant before she runs off on me.”

“Mel’s is sit down.”

“Mel’s is greasy burgers and pulled pork at picnic tables.”

“If she doesn’t like Mel’s I can’t like this girl Dean. I’m sorry but those are just facts,” said Sam. Dean rolled his eyes and smiled, staring up at the ceiling. 

“We could get the sweetheart special. My cholesterol won’t like it but my soul will,” chuckled Dean. “Really? Mel’s?”

“If that girl doesn’t love the ice box pie at the end, she is certifiable,” said Sam.

“I have faith in this one,” said Dean. He shut his eyes and hummed. “You really want to listen to me talk about her?”

“I got about two hundred pages to sign and stamp. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Alright. You asked for it.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 4 here!