#that's a full year of tv for me normally but it's going to be so good

[dramagodesss]

eighteen : new love

playin' the players

a/n : this is for my jj girlies and for my angst lovers. (i'm sorry b, prolly gonna make you cry with this one...)

jj's phone

johnb's phone

josie laughs — too loud, too quick — as mason skates backward, arms outstretched like a dare.

"you’re gonna have to trust me," he grins, coasting effortlessly while she wobbles forward, her hands clutching his. "i got you."

"you said that last time," josie huffs, trying not to stumble, "and i nearly cracked my tailbone."

"that was character development."

he smirks. "c’mon, you’re doing fine."

behind the camera, you're laughing too — but it’s tight, stretched at the edges. you’re tired.

no one knows why. no one knows that three years ago this week, your little brother’s body rested in the pavement of the road while you tried — and failed — to save him. no one knows you’ve been waking up at 3 a.m. again. no one knows that your laughter’s just muscle memory.

but jj notices.

even now, as he lets josie crash clumsily into mason’s chest — as he catches her, grinning like a fool — there’s a split second where he looks at you, past the camera. and you’re not all there.

the next scene’s warmer. inside the rented house, string lights glow in the background. josie stands barefoot, a towel tossed over her shoulder, flicking mason with water from rinsed vegetables.

"those are for dinner!" he protests, voice full of mock indignation.

"you’re not cooking, you’re mansplaining," she says with a smirk, pointing a wooden spoon at him.

they’re surrounded by soft clutter — cutting boards, open bags of pasta, too many bowls. it’s messy, lived-in. real.

and when mason grabs her by the waist and pulls her into a ridiculous, swaying dance — you catch yourself smiling.

jj’s laugh echoes under the fake kitchen lights. his hand settles naturally at your hip, warm even through the fabric.

"you okay?" he whispers, low enough that the boom mic won’t catch it.

you blink, just once, and nod. "yeah. just tired."

he watches you like he doesn’t believe you. but he doesn’t push.

on the final scene is in the living room. the couch is a nest of blankets and pillows. the glow of the tv flickers soft across josie’s cheek. mason’s arm is around her shoulders, his hand resting at her elbow.

you’ve curled into jj without thinking. not as josie. not really.

and somewhere in the middle of a rom-com, your body finally relaxes. jj looks down once — sees your face slackened in sleep — and doesn’t say a word. just shifts slightly so your head fits better in the curve of his neck.

the cameras keep rolling.

in the silence, he thinks about telling you everything.

but not yet. not tonight.

“sushi timeee,” jj grins, swinging the plastic takeout bag as he meets you at the corner of your street. his truck’s still humming behind him, parked crooked like always. “you better not have eaten already or i’m returning the spicy tuna.”

“you’d never,” you say, smiling despite the heaviness in your chest.

you walk side by side up to the apartment, but you stop short at the door.

“you okay?” he asks, pausing when you don’t dig out your keys.

you nod, then shake your head. “i just… don’t wanna go in yet.”

jj raises an eyebrow. doesn’t push. just follows your gaze to the rusted fire escape stairs by your bedroom window.

“fresh air,” you say quietly. “just for a sec.”

“say less.”

you both climb up — slow, careful — settling on the top step with your backs against the metal railing, the streets humming below.

jj sets the takeout between you, popping open the containers. you each grab a pair of chopsticks. he pretends to steal your nigiri, and you slap his hand away.

for a moment, it’s easy. normal. the kind of quiet where you don’t feel like you have to fill the silence.

but jj’s watching you.

like really watching.

you’re still in your filming clothes — hoodie too big, eyeliner smudged, hair a little messy from the couch nap earlier. but your smile’s softer now, a little more real. and he’s never wanted to kiss you more than in this dumb moment surrounded by soy sauce packets and the glow from your window.

you pick at your food.

jj doesn’t say anything at first — just chews, slow, eyes flicking between the skyline and you. he doesn’t want to ruin the quiet. but it’s been eating at him all day.

finally, he sets his chopsticks down on the lid of a container.

“you okay?” he asks, voice low. careful.

you don’t look at him right away. “yeah.”

jj shifts a little, angling toward you. “no, like. actually.”

you pause. shrug. “just tired.”

he doesn’t buy it. “you’ve been tired before, and this isn’t that.”

you let out a weak laugh. it dies quick. “you really paying that much attention to me?”

“always,” he says, so plainly it stuns you quiet for a second.

your mouth opens — then closes again. the knot in your throat tightens.

you don’t want to say it. don’t want to make it real again. but the words are bubbling up before you can stop them.

“my little brother died,” you say softly. “three years ago. this week.”

jj freezes. doesn’t speak. doesn’t move.

you keep going, voice quieter now. “car crash. i was with him. he was in the passenger seat, and i—”

you swallow, hard. “i tried. i really fucking tried. i pulled him out, i called— i did everything, but he just...”

you blink fast. stare at the railing. “his favorite song was playing. we were laughing like ten minutes before it happened.”

jj’s heart twists in his chest. you’re still not looking at him.

“no one knows,” you add. “not sarah, not kie. not even my parents talk about it anymore.” a tear flows from your eyes down to your chin. “my mom was the one driving. I always sat on the passenger seat and he always begged me to let him sit there- that day I let him. If I hadn’t maybe he wouldn’t — i can't— i keep seeing his face. he was so scared jay he— he'd never looked at me like that before. he knew— he fucking knew he was dying and he...” a sob scapes your throat. “the last thing he said was 'it's okay sissy, i love you'. he was twelve years old. twelve. and he was dying, and he still made the efford to say that, and i couldn't save him.”

jj doesn’t say a word. not right away.

he just moves — slow, deliberate — setting the takeout aside, pulling you into him like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

his arms wrap around your shoulders, one hand smoothing over your back in careful, steady lines, the other curling gently at the base of your skull. grounding you. shielding you.

you crumble into him.

his hoodie smells like laundry detergent and campfire smoke. familiar. safe. you grip the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered.

he lowers his head to yours, mouth brushing your temple, voice a rasp against your skin.

“it’s okay, baby,” he whispers. “i’m here. i’ve got you.”

and he means it.

you’re crying now — quiet, wrecked sobs that you don’t even try to swallow. your fists tighten in his hoodie, and jj just holds you through it, his palm moving in slow circles along your spine.

“he was so little,” you choke out. “and i was right there.”

jj nods, presses a kiss to your hair. “i know, i know.”

“i still dream about it. sometimes i hear him say it. that last part. over and over.”

he pulls back just enough to look at you, both hands cradling your face now, thumbs wiping under your eyes.

“you did everything you could,” he says, firm, fierce, like he needs you to believe it. “you were just a kid too. and he knew you loved him. he said it to you because he meant it.”

you sniff, still trembling, but you nod. a little.

jj presses your forehead to his, his breath warm on your cheek.

“it wasn't your fault, angel— you don’t have to carry this by yourself anymore, okay?” he murmurs. “not with me.”

and somehow, for the first time in a long time — you believe that might be true.

the silence after that hangs gentle between you — not heavy like before, but softer now, something cracked open and slowly starting to breathe.

you look at him.

jj’s now holding your face, eyes scanning yours like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. like he wants to keep you here, in this exact moment, where none of it hurts quite as much.

“want me to stay with you tonight?.” he mutters, a soft plea.

and you kiss him.

like you've done so many times.

but somehow, it feels different.

quiet. grateful. something about it says thank you.

he smiles into it, barely pulling back to whisper, “i’ll take that as a yes.”

you let out a shaky laugh, nodding as your fingers tug lightly at the hem of his hoodie.

“stay,” you say, softer this time. “please.”

“yeah,” jj breathes. “of course.”

later, inside your room, the winow clicks shut behind you both. everything is quiet but the rustle of fabric as you trade your jeans for sweats, his hoodie for your own.

you toss him an extra pillow.

he doesn’t use it. just slides into bed beside you and waits — doesn’t touch, doesn’t speak — until you shift closer, settling into the curve of his side. a familiar feeling invades your body, like you’d done it a hundred times.

jj tugs the blanket up around you and presses a kiss to your forehead, strong arms wrapped around your frame.

you fall asleep like that.

and for the first time in weeks, maybe months or years, your dreams are still.

taglist : @beewritess @davinashifts333 @lanasangelsz @littlefreak-liz @drewstarkeyswife0 @lalaloopsieparty @ethanthequeefqueen @wtfisastiles @angelicameron @moth-feeet @drewstarkeyswife-7 @hiphopstar @cokewithcameron @cameronsbabydoll @chillgal135 @ayy1234567 @pogueprincesa @isinpfortvdmen @iheartrosalia @luvrclub @yesshewrites1 @sideboobrry11 @espressh0e @mysticbby2009 @arianagreenblattfanxx10 @hwaaholic @aves05 @thecolorpearl05 @dreamybabbyy @wintercrows @lesbiana2 @chillgal135 @verycherryblossomhideout @daddyrafeslittleslut @pillowprincess4him @xoxobellamy @dylsdaily @at-todds-heart @nonbeliever1@rafes-honey @lilithblackkk @isktfguhn @rafecamssfavgirl @mirellef2001 @jennieonline @coriiiiiiioiii

[aria0fgold]

Drinking water the way that I do is like orz... Why'd I have to get used to drinking water like this, water just went down my shirt AUGH

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | quirkless!reader, prohero!dynamight

a.n; I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA OKAY? I HAVE HAD IT IN MY DRAFTS FOR LIKE A YEAR ALREADY AND I NEED YA'LL TO RANT WITH ME ABOUT THISSSS<3 it's mostly enemies to lovers💕

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

"For the love of–... I'M COMING!"

It's Sunday morning. You have been expecting this day to wake up maybe mid-morning, with the gentle warm breeze coming from your open window; have an exquisite brunch that you have been planning and craving since Friday; maybe watch an episode or two of your favorite show before preparing a full spa day, with a long and refreshing bath included. That's how you have planned your Sunday to go.

But no… Apparently, someone's intention was to ruin the whole day for you while their knocks on your door were persistent and annoying at 6 freaking a.m.

You don't think about what you're wearing before stumbling towards the door, with the loud BANGS still sounding. You think of your poor neighbors next door and their newborn baby.

"This little shit," you protest, completely annoyed with this person knocking on your door like someone has died. "Someone better be dead or else…" You open the door in one strong pull and huff utterly annoyed when you encounter the person behind.

Vermillion eyes collide with yours, the intense hate and annoyance so palpable in the air it almost cuts you both.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He tchs, rolling his eyes at you. The bile travels up through your esophagus, and you want to spit at him.

"Save the greetings, if you know what a decent greeting means… Well, considering how well you just did it, I doubt you fuckin’ know…"

The muscle at your temple twitches so hard, you believe he is actually able to see it. That would explain his upcoming smirk.

"The fuck do you want?" You repeat, not even caring or taking the time to follow this banter with him. You would normally do it, come back at him with a snarky response that would probably hurt his ego and he would answer back making you even angrier, and yada yada, nothing new to this ‘hate x hate’ relationship you had with this man in front of you. But today is not a day you planned on dealing with Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki.

He looks down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting a bit with the buttons on his all-black suit jacket you just now noticed he is wearing. Interesting; he never uses formal suits like this one if it isn't for a Hero Gala, and that was only once a year. Or that one time you remember he had to apologize to citizens through a TV interview with Deku because of a villain attack in Hokkaido they couldn't quite contain on time and caused a lot of material damage. You shake your head coming back to the present. Pro Hero Dynamight, a.k.a. Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki is standing right at your door, looking a bit nervous while playing with the buttons of his jacket, furrowing his eyebrows like he is angry even at the air he breathes.

You could have expected anything from this unpredictable man who infuriated you almost twenty-four hours a day, the seven days of the whole week. However, you were not expecting at all the words that come from his mouth after he looks up again and his eyes lock with yours.

"Fucking marry me."

Your eyes open wide. And the only thing you think of doing is punching him. And you do.

Your hands close in tight fists, and before saying anything, you punch his shoulder as strongly as you can with one. You know for sure your small and useless fist won't do any damage to this hulk of a man, but the meaning behind it it's what matters.

He simply looks at you in disbelief. "Ouch?" He smirks. He fucking smirks at you, and this time you punch his stomach, which does make him grunt and hover a bit in pain.

You attempt to close the door right at his face, but he suddenly pushes it with his hand and makes you waver a bit back, holding yourself on the door handle. He stands straight again, retrieving his hand from the door when he realizes he used more force than intended to prevent you from closing the door.

"I- umm- Shit, sorry, I didn't-..." 

You raise a hand to stop him from talking.

"Just fucking tell me what you want, so I can go back to bed and not see your ugly face for the rest of my day."

You watch in satisfaction how his face contours into full rage. And this time you smirk. 

"I fucking hate you…" He spits, and you bat your lashes at him while smiling.

"Ah, the feeling is mutual, baby."

Bakugou takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and holding himself on the door frame with strength. You're sure his hand shape will print on it, and you get more annoyed –if that's possible, but you have already learned that when Bakugou was involved, the anger was immeasurable– thinking that you will have to hire someone to fix that.

"I fucking hate you," he repeats through his teeth with his eyes still closed, but then he opens them, and his entire face changes into something you never expected to see. He looks at you, begging, "But I need you to marry me."

You look… perplexed. Again, never in your life have you ever come across the thought that those words would ever come from the man in front of you, much less towards you.

You open your mouth to say something, but the neighbor from the apartment in front of yours opens his door, standing there with his arms crossed and looking menacingly.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" His deep baritone voice asks. Bakugou turns his head and when he sees him, stands straight, head held high and you can imagine the type of defying expression on his face.

You roll your eyes. Men.

"Yes, Arisu, everything is fine. He's… a… friend," the word stung your tongue because you couldn't consider Bakugou that, even though you shared the same group of friends. But it wouldn't have been good having these two fight over something you still didn't understand what was happening; the thought of who of these two hulk men would win still was entertaining to think about. Your money was on Arisu, of course.

"Alrigh’," Arisu says, looking at Bakugou up and down before retrieving himself back into his apartment.

"The fuck this fucking extra-..." You stop Bakugou from turning and going towards Arisu by holding his arm and pulling him towards you.

"Stop it. Come inside," you demand, pulling him as he watches your hand around his bicep, "before any of my neighbors file a complaint against me thanks to your fucking loud mouth."

Bakugou grunts at your words as he lets you pull him inside. When you close the door and turn to him, you realize how big he looks in your small apartment, where there is barely space between the living room and the kitchen and two doors, one leads to your bedroom and the other to the bathroom. You want to laugh at how uncomfortable he looks.

You take a deep breath, scratching your forehead to regain a bit of patience –which was non-existent whenever Bakugou was around.

"Okay, now, explain to me what the hell is wrong with you."

"Nothing is wrong with me. More like what's wrong with you and this small thing you call apartment… When did you-..."

"Bakugou! I didn't invite you in for you to start insulting my living space!" You say more exasperated by every second he is in there. "Tell me what the hell happened to you! Why did you come here, almost tearing down the door of my place at 6 in the fucking morning, annoying even my neighbors, and then you fucking propose out of nowhere!"

His lips are held in a tight line as he watches you almost yell at him, hands opening and closing anxiously. There is silence for a couple of minutes before he says, "My father died."

You gasp, taking a step back. Wow. That's something you were not expecting at all. You get now why the black suit. And now that you look at him better, his eyes look glassy and reddish –probably thanks to how much he's holding himself back from showing any other emotion that isn't anger. And that's… sad.

Your arms immediately hug yourself, one hand settling over your chest. "I- I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," he turns a bit to the left, facing the kitchen to avoid looking at you. "Fucker was a right pain in the ass."

You choke on the laugh that almost escapes you at his words, and after you clear your throat you murmur, "Sorry." He looks at you a bit amused, the right corner of his mouth lifted a bit at your reaction.

You sigh again after a few seconds of silence, "Bakugou, what does that have to do with you asking me to-...”

"My great-grandparents are-were the funders and CEOs of TCA Technologies Corp.," your eyes open wide at the name of the prestigious company that had been ground-breaking in the creation and use of robots, before being the number one seller of technology materials to support heroes. They were high class in society, civilians and heroes. "Yeah, that's the face every extra makes," he smirks when you stick your tongue out at him.

He then looks at you up and down and immediately looks away, clearing his throat in a clear gesture of shyness. You frown confused.

"Fucking go put some clothes on."

That's when you remember you had no pants, no bra, and an old shirt that barely covered your panties. Fuck. You almost run towards your room to get changed. All of this had to be a dream… or a nightmare.

Your Sunday was entirely ruined. You know that for sure.

After you change to decent, more covered clothing, leggings and a big shirt that almost reached your knees –it is Sunday, dammit, and the hell you are gonna dress up for Bakugou Katsuki– you walk again towards the living room where you left said asshole waiting for you there. He is now sitting on your couch, his suit jacket lying over the back of it. His elbows are resting over his knees, his hands holding his head. You have never encountered a tired Bakugou, yet here he is. Looking beaten and down.

He looks up at you when he hears you approach him; his eyes are more reddish than before, kind of like when you want to cry but don't let yourself do it. That made you feel bad for thinking about him as an asshole.

"What took you so long, short-legs? Whatever you wear, you'll still stink and look ugly on it."

Nope. He is and will always be a stupid asshole.

You roll your eyes grunting as you let yourself fall on the couch, as far away from him as you can on that three-people couch, crossing your legs under you.

"Spit it out, asshole. What's all this about?"

He sighs, "My father inherited it all after my grandfather died. His whole life had been that stupid company, his and my mother's. I don't give a fuck about it, but the old hack insists that I- ow!"

You pinch him on the shoulder this time, knowing very well that if you had punched him he wouldn't have felt anything. But pinching… he did feel that.

"What the fuck was that for?!"

"Don't call your mom like that, idiot!"

"Fucking piss off, you know shit! The old hack is an old hack, she deserves the title."

You shake your head in disagreement but decide to leave that topic there considering how affected he looks by it.

"The old hack said," he simply repeats that to spite you, and you really want to punch him, "that I need to step up and be fucking CEO of that bullshit, or…"

He looks at you, and you gulp, kind of understanding where this is going.

"Or get married." You finish the sentence, crossing your arms over your chest, "But why? Those two options are completely different from one another."

"The sky will fucking fall the day I understand any-fucking-thing that comes out of her mouth. She's nuts!" He protests, arms exaggerating his words as he opens them wide, evidently showing how much stress he has, before laying back on the couch, head resting over the back of it where his jacket is. He sighs long and deeply before talking again, "My great-grandmother had a strong Quirk, but she decided to stay at home instead of being a Hero. Those were other times, ya'know?"

"I know History of Heroes, Bakugou. I'm not stupid."

He looks at you again, this time genuinely surprised, "I, umm, thought you-..."

"Have you ever thought that despite not having a Quirk, I know about heroes?"

He tchs, "No wonder why you and shitty Deku are such shitty nerds."

You roll your eyes for the eleventh time that morning, "Get to the point, shitty asshole."

Bakugou scoffs, clearly holding back a retort to answer back, then he continues, "I'm the first in generations with a strong, hero-level Quirk. Most of my family had decided to live as civilians, building this stupid company from generation to generation."

"Oh, and you are the first actual Hero in the family. You are the first one to choose differently…"

He nods in response, "It almost gave my grandfather a heart attack. Ever since my Quirk woke up, I knew what I wanted," he looks back at you, and for the first time, you admit to yourself that you're curious of knowing what he wants, what goes through his head, so you nod allowing him to continue, "I want to be a Number One Hero. I want to kick villains' asses as much and as hard as I can for as long as my stupid aging bones allow me to."

The intensity in his eyes and conviction in every word he spoke made you feel his passion. And that was… new.

"But to be that, I can't afford to waste time in falling in love and all that bullshit…"

"Then say no to your mom and the company," you offer as a solution. He snorts letting his head fall back against the couch.

"You know shit…" He shakes his head, "There's a requirement in every hero company, it says that a familiar, or a spouse if the hero is married, has to validate your mental sanity alongside a doctor to keep working as a Hero."

"I… didn't know that."

"Of course not, short-legs. You're not a hero, why would you know?"

"So, if I… If we get married-..." he nods in confirmation even before you say the words. But he says them.

"The old hag won't have to validate my status as Hero anymore, and she won't have anything to hold me back from sending her and the company to hell."

You looked serious at him, "Bakugou, you and I don't like each other. You hate me and I hate you. And you want to put your Hero status in my hands by marrying me?" You say in disbelief, almost anxious about the whole meaning of this. You stand up and walk from one side to the other as you keep talking, "Why? Because your inner kid is in rebellious tantrum mode and does not want to take the responsibility to-..."

"Shut the fuck up! You. Know. Shit!" He also stood up, shortening the distance between you two in the small living room.

"Then tell me! Explain it to me! Cause to me you only sound like a spoiled brat who doesn't want his veggies for lunch."

He looks you right in the eye, hands almost trembling in fists beside his body, and then he drops the bomb.

"My mother killed my grandfather."

You recoil a step back, "What?"

He sighs, hands and fingers running through his hair, clearly uncomfortable, "I-... There is no proof, no solid proof about it. I just- I know it was her." Again, the conviction in his eyes made you believe him. "My mother wanted the money, the luxury life being with my dad could bring her. But my dad had a brother, an older brother."

"Had?"

Bakugou simply shakes his head, "The idiot got himself in between a shooting from two villain groups. He was shot only once, and it killed him. A fucking looser…" 

You try, you really tried not to smile but failed miserably. "You are the idiot," you say fighting back the chuckle.

He smiles back, "No, I got shot several times, I even got thrown at and through walls, and I'm very much fucking alive. I'm no weak ass looser as him."

You can't stop laughing, Bakugou definitely is an idiot.

He waits until you're done laughing before continuing, "Even then, my grandfather didn't think my dad was capable of handling the company and all it meant, so he was thinking about giving it to one of his nephews. That's when, I fuckin’ know, my mother took matters into her own hands. I'm an only child. If I say no…"

"The company has to go to another familiar..." Everything washes clear now in your head, “And your mom won't allow that to happen. So she’ll lie and say you aren’t sane enough to keep working as a hero,” Bakugou keeps nodding, confirming everything you’re saying.

“That way, I’m obligated to work at the company.”

Your hand travels from your forehead and brushes your hair back. “She wouldn’t that… She’s your mom, Bakugou...”

“Haven’t you heard a fucking thing I said? She fucking killed my grandfather so the company was legally inherited by my father! Therefore, she could hold all the rights, all the stupid money! My father was a fucking dimwit who believed every-fucking-thing my mother said. She controlled him as she pleased.”

You gasp as another realization hits you, “That’s why you are an asshole to her…”

“She can fool anyone, but not me.” He declares, standing tall and proud. “I have never played her game, and I fuckin’ never will.”

You hug yourself once more, taking some minutes to assimilate all the confessions he just dropped on you. Everything feels like a script of a freaking movie or something. And there are too many questions you want to ask. But there’s only one thing you mostly don’t understand and you need the answer to.

So you look back at him, head tilting up a bit due to the height difference between you, and ask, “Why me?”

Bakugou does not hesitate in his answer. 

“You’re strong, despite not having a Quirk. And smart. You don’t let anyone dictate what you can or cannot do,” he takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours, “You have never backed down from a discussion, with me or anyone else. You don’t let anybody step on you, holding tight to your convictions and beliefs.”

You visibly gulp, feeling a little warmth in your cheeks that makes you want to look elsewhere, but you don't. You hold the connection between your eyes like dear life. And he smiles, the left corner of his mouth raising a bit.

“You have a fuckin’ strong character, you won't even shy down from me,” you suddenly feel the back of his index finger caress the right side of your jaw, where lays an old scar he perfectly recognized.

It was the scar he accidentally left when you were younger, stupider. He had picked a fight with another newbie hero –another asshole in your opinion– who kept talking shit about his other newbie hero friends. Bakugou had snapped when the guy mocked the word “whore” towards you. You have tried to separate them, earning yourself a punch on the right side of your face by this same man that has touched the reminder of that old memory.

“But above all that…” It’s his turn to gulp, eyes going up and down through your face. Is he… Is he looking at your lips? “You are kind. You care about everyone. You always try to solve everything for everyone –that’s fuckin’ annoying actually.”

You open your mouth to swear at him, stupid asshole; but he doesn’t give you time to say anything. “What I’m trying to fuckin’ say is–” he takes a deep breath, “You are… good. A good person. And you… You understand m- us.”

Was he going to say ‘me’? By ‘us’, you know he means heroes.

Your parents had been heroes before they died. Unfortunately, you were born Quirkless, so the dream of following your parents' path was decided the same day you were welcomed into this world. You have already made peace with this idea, it didn’t hurt like it used to when you were young. Despite not having a Quirk, you specialized in Quirk and training analysis, which granted you a job that most Hero Agencies wanted you for. Hence also how now your group of friends involved all heroes.

However, one thing is working with them, working with Bakugou Katsuki, a.k.a. Pro Hero Dynamight, who was the biggest pain in your ass you have ever had since the day you met him. Another completely different is actually marrying the pain in your ass.

You sigh, “I don’t–...”

“What? You want me to fuckin’ beg? ‘Cause I fuckin’ will…” Bakugou takes a step back and literally kneels before you. You protest, grabbing his forearm and pulling him back up, but he doesn’t let you move him even a millimeter. “What do you want? Whatever you want is yours. We can even sign a dam contract if you so want, I don’t fuckin’ care what it is. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“This is not a fucking joke, Bakugou. You are asking me to marry you. What if I have a boyfriend? You didn’t even fucking ask!”

His eyes open wide, surprised. “Do you?”

You roll your eyes, releasing an exasperated sigh. “No! I don’t!”

“Then, what are you bitching about?”

You groan. “I’m bitching about the fact that I don’t know why would you put a whole big deal on me when we hate each other!”

“I trust you.”

It’s a short answer, his expression is even so neutral and sure that leaves you perplexed. Surprised at how easily he said those words.

“We don’t like each other…”

“I don’t need to like you to trust you, idiot.” It feels like he’s mocking you, but one look into his eyes and what he is saying actually feels right. He is completely sure of what he is saying. “I would even fuckin’ trust you with my life.”

He already does. Every day, at work.

Still, you can’t pass the opportunity to piss him off. “Wow. That’s deep, buddy.”

“Fuck you.”

Mission accomplished.

You laugh gently, looking at him still kneeling on the floor of your living room. The sight in itself is a miracle. A sight you won't get to see ever again from this man. But it’s not the image of his kneeling position that makes you take the decision.

It’s his eyes.

They are screaming, desperately begging for you to help him. And, damn it, he is right; you always are at the disposal of everyone when they need your help. Fuck! It is actually very annoying –but you will never admit that out loud, especially not to him.

You close your eyes, head tilting back, and take a long, deep breath.

You are so going to regret this.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Bakugou Katsuki immediately stands up and practically throws himself at you, his whole hulk of a body surrounding you in what you have never thought would ever happen between you two: a hug.

Are you though?

[rieamena]

totally (not) beating the allegations

best friend!takuma ino headcanons

contains... best friends to lovers, mutual pining, casual confession of love, kisses (platonic), kisses (romantic), modern au, high school to university au, living together-ish, fem intended reader, pet names (baby, babe, love, sexy, handsome, beautiful, sweetie, the list goes on and on), lots of physical touch, nicknames (you call takuma, kuma.), reader has a mother and a father, y'all are basically dating just without the label...

word count: 2.3k (this wasn't supposed to be long. i told myself 0.8k maximum...)

riea's comments: all sixteen people living in takuma city RISE UP! i miss my husband of 35 years so much, come back to me loml :(( something to munch on while y'all wait for the next full throttle chapter. also not too much on me if this is a drabble and not hcs idk the difference :))

first off... i just wanna say that i KNOW I KNOW that ino is one of the funniest people in the jjk cast idc idc!!! if he had more screentime (and if the situation wasnt dire) my boy would be crackin some jokes!!!!

you've been friends with takuma for around 7 years, your first meeting happening in tenth grade, when your teacher paired you two up for an interview project. when time came to actually record the interviews, it was hard to edit out you two laughing uncontrollably every fifteen seconds or so

i mean, you two just had so much in common!!! same favorite color, same favorite franchise, same favorite tv show, same favorite video game; it was like yall were the same person. there was just one thing you both disagreed on: whether hex code #286061 was blue or green

your argument ended up being the last ten minutes of the final video you submitted...

without a doubt, after that, you two became inseparable. in school, people would take notice of your closeness. when one of you were absent, teachers would jokingly ask "where's the other one?"

there was not a single thing you didn't do together, homework, go to the gym, gossip, eavesdrop, etc etc. so of course, you ended up applying to the same universities and when it came time for college acceptance season...

takuma invited you over, forcing you to bring your mailed letters from the eight universities. sprawling out over his lap, you took in the all too familiar sight of his room. you've been in his room more times than you've been in your own (and vice versa!)

i mean ino's been over to your place so many times that he calls your parents mom and dad. and you've been over to his house so much that takuma's mom practically jumped for joy every time you burst through the front doors with a "guess who's home!!!" so it was completely normal that you guys knew the ins and outs of each other's rooms, right?

"kuma, baby," you started with a sigh, reveling in your best friend's repetitive motions. running his hand through your hair, ino looked down at you, eyes showing that he was listening. "i'm scared, what if we don't–"

"ah-ah-ah! no negativity here!" he cut you off, pushing you off his lap and grabbing the letters you left on his desk. "listen here beautiful," takuma says, bringing a hand to your cheek, his heart swelling when you subconsciously leaned into it, "we're gonna take each other's letters, and open them," he handed you a white envelope, the logo of both of yours dream university on it, "starting with, kyōmei."

taking a well needed deep breath, you nodded. "okay," you and ino began to open the envelopes at the same time, only looking at each other when you saw the status. "accepted or rejected in 3...2...1..."

"ACCEPTED"

"ACCEPTED"

cue the mandatory silence before the screaming. "holy shit. you got in." "you got in." "WE GOT IN!!! WE'RE GOING TO KYŌMEI!!!!" you two practically flew off the bed, jumping up and down in celebration. peppering his face in kisses, you nuzzled your face into takuma's neck. "i'm so proud of us! i mean, kyōmei," you pulled away from his neck, shaking his shoulders harshly, "the kyōmei?!!!"

anyways, soon enough, you both realized that you'd have to move away, resulting in a seven hour search for apartments near the university's campus. and just as takuma was about to give up, you found a listing for units 19A and 19B, right in the heart of the city and just a five minute walk from kyōmei

and with that, it was moving day, well, days is more like it considering that the whole process took like ten days... finding cute furniture is really hard! and moving all of it is even harder!! and don't even get me started on the appliances! although, you and takuma found a way around it

like what do both of you need a microwave for? and there isn't a reason to have two dishwashers, there wasn't even a reason to have one! y'all kept your fridges though... who was gonna be banging on the other's door in the middle of the night for some cold water??

with time, it came for the highly anticipated freshman formal, an welcome event hosted by kyōmei itself, and of course, you had to go. so here you were, staring at your figure in the mirror as your best friend's large hand rubbed your shoulder, the other zipping up your black dress. "all done!" he breathed, taking a step away so that you could see for yourself. "i look so cute~" you giggled, hearing the clack of your heels as you twirled. "you do!" he paused, looking you up and down, "when did you get that dress?"

"your mom gave it to me a couple days ago! where'd you get that tux? i don't think i've seen it before," you walked over and straightened takuma's suit, as he laughed in response, "your mom gave it to me..."

"this was planned."

"this was definitely planned."

"we should send a picture in the family group chat!"

"we should!!! but, hair first!"

notice how i said family group chat, singular, not plural. and that's because there's a gc for both of your families! it's name was a mix between "ino" and your last name, since, in all seriousness, your families were close

so here you were, sitting pretty on takuma's lap as you focused on straightening the front pieces of his hair, because that's what best friends do!

"okayyyy sexyyyy," you squealed, moving out of the way so that takuma could see himself in your vanity mirror, "damnn, i look hot!" he smiled as he checked himself out, his hand firmly on your waist (to make sure that you wouldn't fall, of course!). "i knew i was fine but, did i always look this fine?" he asked, looking up at you with his big dark brown eyes, a playful smirk evident on his face. "yes, takuma. you're the sexiest man ever. just a bit of eyeliner on you and we'll be on our way, okay?"

turning back to your station, you grabbed some brown and black pencils before starting to lightly draw over ino's outer eye corner, "do men as sexy as me really need eyeliner?" a look from you was all he needed to know to shut up and close his eyes

and oh, how he loved being so close to you. not just emotionally but physically as well. like, not every duo can say that they barge into the other's apartment to steal snacks! and speaking of snacks... let me just say, there's a whole cabinet in his kitchen reserved for your favorite foods and! he keeps your favorite ice cream flavor stocked in his freezer

you, on the other hand, have a little space where you hide takuma's favorite anything. chips, gummies, takeout menus, you name it, you have it. because your best friend is oh-so-optimistic, it can be harder for him when he's just not having the best of days. which is why when you go your (not so) separate ways at the end of the day, you pack up a basket for him. ribbons in his favorite color, his top 15 favorite snacks from that one time y'all bought one of everything in a nearby convenience store and ranked them, takeout on the way, horror flicks he's been wanting on dvd because he said "its cooler that way", and a handwritten letter from you, for my kuma, scribbled on the envelope

dropping off the basket at his door and retreating back to your place, you'd press your ear against the wall separating your units, physically feeling your heart break when you heard sniffles. that was all you needed to practically fly over to his, a few boxes of tissues in hand. because that's what best friends do!

and don't even get me started on how many belongings y'all have at the other's place... like that one time takuma walked into your apartment announcing his presence, only to be met with silence. let me set up the scene for you. you are taking a relaxing shower when you hear a knock on the door followed by four more and then three more. "come in!" you called out, unbeknownst to you, ino's voice was closer than you thought

"already in here..., anyways. is my shampoo in there?"

"the one with the purple cap?"

"yeah, thanks babe!"

"wait, can you get me my towel?"

or that time when you causally opened the door to his unit (because it was basically yours too) and greeted him with a simple pat on his head before skipping off to find those jeans you thrifted

slight cohabitation aside, the university life was definitely... something. it was clear and obvious that you two were close, a blind man could see it. but close is a really really really vague word, and it's surely not the word that describes the way the two of you act. in this friendship, terms of endearment drop like rain from clouds. every. other. sentence. contains a "babe" or "baby" or "sweetheart" or "darling" WE GET IT OKAY...

and it seems like if y'all go a single day without touching each other, a bomb will fall from the sky and earth would blow up. his hands are constantly on you, his favorite places (when in public) being your shoulders and arms, and when at home it was without a doubt your waist and thighs. just imagine how difficult it must be for people speak to you both on campus when his arm is slung around you and your hand is holding onto his side. the rumors practically created themselves....

and when i say people were shocked, i mean they were SHOCKED when y'all were like "haha, no, we're not dating!!! we're best friends!" everyone was thinking: yeah best friends who FUCK. best friends who are IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER. y'all became the campus' it couple without being a couple. how does that happen??!??

however... there were a couple of people who were particularly excited to hear that you both were single. a few girls approached you one day while in the general area, asking if it was true that you and ino weren't dating. "we aren't... why?" one of the girls shifted on her feet, clearly nervous. "well... could you um... give this to him for me?!" she bowed, presenting a pretty pink envelope. you froze, staring at the item before giggling. "i see what this is about! don't worry! i'll make sure this gets to him safely!" long story short, that letter was never delivered

and on ino's side, he had some classmates pestering him about you. asking for your favorite show, candy, date style, everything under the sun. "guys, guys! she doesn't even want a boyfriend right now!" takuma shouted, even though two days prior you were complaining about how spending too much time with him was scaring all the hotties away

but let's get into the real stuff... the realization of love

for takuma, there wasn't a "wow, i'm in love with her" moment. what he does know though is that he started feeling something different for you a few months before college admission season. to him, the world was always bright with you by his side but now... it was so much brighter. it was like looking directly into the sun; it hurt but he couldn't look away, he doesn't want to look away. you're the best thing to ever happen to him, and the mere thought of ruining what you have just for some feeling—no matter how intense—isn't... right to him

and you figured it out after a dream you had one night back in high school. you dreamt of being in takuma's arms, the ones you snuck glances at when he wasn't paying attention to you. in not dream world, all you had to do was ask and he'd gladly envelop you but the vibes in this dream were different. there was tension. and it was thick. his beanie was off and thrown somewhere on the bed, your bed. looking back at him, your breath caught in your throat, "hey pretty," he slurred, drunk off tiredness. ino's called you beautiful more times than you can count; he made sure to do it at least once a week, so why... just why did this time make your stomach heat up and your heart race? you woke up with a flushed face, queasy feeling in your gut, and a deep understanding. it wasn't just platonic love anymore

"hey," you started, eyes trained on the movie in front of you, but your mind was focused on something else, "y'know how everyone thinks we're dating?" ino nodded as you reached over to grab the bowl of popcorn. "i've been thinking... maybe they're onto something..."

takuma's gulp could be heard from miles away, "wh-what are you trying to say?"

"what are we? seriously. because i can't sit here and pretend like i don't wish we were something more."

"something more like...?"

"now's not the time to be oblivious! don't you get it?! i'm—"

"i'm in love with you,"

it was like time stood still as you looked at your best friend. his face was lit by the tv screen a couple feet away, his hair was a mess, and slightly prominent dark circles were under his eyes, but... he's never looked more beautiful to you. "have been. for a long time. we've basically been dating for like four years already. four more and then we'll get married?" he flashed his signature smile

"oh, shut up," he brought your face millimeters away from his, whispering "make me." before kissing you deeply, not on your cheek, or your forehead, or your shoulders, but on your lips this time. and all the times after that too

because that's what best friends lovers do, right?

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @discipleofthem

@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@stillnotherapy @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath

@atigerandabear @russianremy @ohnoitsamistakee18 @ivy-vivii @ourfinalisation

@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes

[itgetzweird08]

“Damn- already Bakugo? The movie isn’t even over!”

Denki whined, grabbing the remote to pause the comedy that was playing on the tv. It was movie night in the dorms, a way for the class to bond and decompress after classes. Everyone was huddled together, wrapped in blankets and sharing snacks. All accept Bakugo, who scowled at his yellow haired friend.

“It’s my bed time. I’ll see you nerds in the morning.” Denki huffed, crossing his arms as he muttered about Bakugo’s old man behavior. But Kirishima smiled, giving him a short wave and a “sleep well Baku-bro!”. The rest of the class also sent their goodnight wishes as Bakugo headed to his room.

It was only 8:30, which was a bit early even for Bakugo. He usually headed to bed around 9, but tonight was special.

When he got to his room, he locked his door and walked to his mirror, making sure his hair was to his liking and that there was no popcorn in his teeth. When he caught himself fretting over his appearance, he rolled his eyes and scoffed, wiping his sweaty palms on his jogging pants. ‘The fuck am I worried for? It’s just a Skype call’. And while he was right, it was just a call, it was a call with /you/.

You and Bakugo had been dating long distance for the past year and a half.

You met at the I-island convention, where you two got into a friendly competition at one of the challenges. After you managed to beat him at his own game, he recruited Mina to find you on social media. Anyone who could beat him was special..and it didn’t hurt that you were gorgeous to boot. However, his heart sank when he found out that you didn’t live in Japan. Still, he decided to follow and dm you anyways..which you promptly answered. The two of you have been talking non stop ever since.

What was just messaging turned into calling, then FaceTiming, to full on movie nights where you would count down to try and start the movie at the same time. And while it was inconvenient, it was fun. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Which is why he was always promptly on time for your calls. You had both been busy that week, so you weren’t able to talk as much as you normally did, which is why you scheduled the call. With the time difference, you would be slowly waking up to get ready for school while he was going to bed. He was able to tell you about his day, while he watched you get ready for yours.

The time difference was a hard challenge to navigate, but you made it work. Talking to eachother was the high light of both of your days. You loved seeing his face and hearing his voice, even if it was virtual and he loved the same. You were both very meticulous in nature as well, making sure that your times were aligned to get the most out of your talks as possible. That way, it always felt like enough.

And while it would be nice to hold him, to see his face in person, to kiss him..this was enough for now.

Bakugo hopped into his bed, plugging up his phone before pressing call and waiting for you to answer. And when you did, he was met with sleepy eyes and a warm smile. He could’ve sworn his heart was doing actual backflips.

“Hi Kats..”

“Morning dumbass”

You smiled at him, your heart fluttering at his teasing. And just by seeing your smile he knew, that until he could get to you, this would be enough for him.

——————

Ps: im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Babyproofed claws

req: I was thinking with Logan/Wolverine where he ends up having a little girl with the reader and for a while like a few months/a year she doesn’t show any signs of mutation until one day they see little baby claws come out of her hand🥹 like they don’t hurt her like Logan’s does since she was born with it. And reader loves her even more and reassure Logan that she’ll be okay and that nothing will ever change. So mostly fluff but a little smut at the end pile be amazing! Like not necessarily a full smut just like sexual tension about “baby number two” hoping they have reader’s mutation

Req by @supernaturalstilinski

Warnings: fem!reader, it’s said logan wasn’t born with his claws (not canon, swapped it out to better fit request) , I did tweak the end a lil, dad!logan not proofread, fluff mostly

MASTERLIST | KOFI

Throughout your pregnancy, Logan’s mind was consumed with worry for the entire nine months as he wondered if his mutation would affect her. The thought of her experiencing the same pain as he did terrified him, and he was willing to endure it a million times over again to spare her.

Everything went smoothly for a year, her first birthday a few weeks ago. He thought that she was safe, he thought that by some miracle, both of your x-genes hadn’t passed onto her. He should have known he was wrong.

It started off as a normal night, him waking up earlier than anyone else, padding over towards the kitchen in an oversized jacket and sweatpants. He turned on the tv, quietly letting out a grunt as he sat down on couch and sinking into the cushions.

He got a few minutes to himself before he heard little whines coming from the room, making him sigh, knowing his time was up. He stood up, to already see you standing up, groggily mumbling to her as you picked her up. You glanced up at Logan, murmuring a sleepy “goodmorning” to him.

He sits down next to you, gently wrapping an arm around you and kissing the crown of your head. You put your head on his shoulder, both of you staring at your cooing baby in your arms.

As she lifted her hands in front of her face, you noticed a small glimmer of metal in the dim light. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and Logan's eyes widened in surprise. He practically flew up off the bed, switching on the light to make sure he wasn’t going insane.

“What the fuck?” You murmured, quickly pulling her hands away from her face, making her face contort up and she began to cry.

Logan was speechless, watching you examine the small metal claws, glancing up at him again. His eyes lingered on her.

“No, this… what? How? Her x-rays were totally fucking normal.” He finally spoke, watching her curious eyes examine the metal claws, tilting her head to the side. You still held her arm away from her face, just as confused as he was.

He then watched her retract her claws back into her hands, his eyebrow lifting when she let out a giggle instead of a cry.

You sighed in relief when you saw it didn’t hurt her as much as it had Logan. “Lo,” you turned your attention back to the man. He finally turned to you, his expression unreadable.

“Calm down.” You murmured, noticing how his eyes were about to pop out of the socket and his veins were about to bulge out of his skin.

“Calm down? Seriously? You’re gonna tell me to calm down? Our baby-“

"She's fine, okay? Look," you interrupted him and gestured towards her, causing him to look back at her once more. She was peacefully sleeping in your arms, and you carefully placed her back down in her crib. Logan stood with his arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head in disbelief.

“This still doesn’t make any fucking sense.” He spoke, sitting on the bed next to you again.

“She developed it late.” You replied, cocking your head to the side, as both of you gazed at the crib. “But for some reason, It didn’t look like it hurt for her.”

“But how? I mean,” he choked out a laugh, “her skeleton is probably covered in fucking metal, and there’s fucking claws retracting in and out of her skin, and god only knows if she has regeneration. That shit is gonna hurt.” He raised his voice at the end, you turning to him with a glare when you saw her stir. “Sorry, but it just doesn’t make fucking sense.”

“I know that, logan.” You snapped, glancing at him. “None of this makes fucking sense. But lo, she’s our baby, we just need to help her. Love her.”

He held his face in his hands, shaking his head to himself. You sighed, wrapping your arms around his large frame, kissing the blade of his tense shoulder.

“Everything will be fine, she will be fine. It’ll all work out, Lo. It always does.” You murmured quietly to him.

He shook his head, mumbling “Fuck,” with a bitter laugh. “I can’t even be a good dad.”

“But you are a good dad. Logan, that girl loves you like crazy. Nothings gonna change that.”

He stared back into the crib, thinking for a moment. “How are we supposed to explain to her that she’s different from everyone else? That she’s not fucking normal and it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself for this. And we’ll figure it out when that time comes. She’s a year old. We have time.”

He huffed, knowing you were right. You always were. He swore that being right was your mutation at this point.

She was peacefully asleep, mouth agape and chest falling and rising. A soft smile made its way onto your face, knowing that despite her mutation, you both would love her more than anything, you always will.

A few hours later, he was sitting with her on his lap, her giggling wildly with the small metal claws sticking out her hands, and Logan sticking foam on the top of them, baby proofing them for her, grumbling under his breath every time she kept jumping on his lap.

“There.” He murmured when he finished, watching her eyes go to the foam on her hands, making her eyebrows quirk in the way his usually did. He couldn’t suppress the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.

His smile disappeared when her claws retracted, the foam falling down. He groaned in annoyance, after taking all that time just for them to fall right off, shaking his head.

“Damnit.”

Once she was put back in her crib, both of you laying in bed, you murmur out something that makes him quirk an eyebrow.

“Maybe our second one will have my mutation.” You thought out loud, him looking at you.

“Second one, huh?”

You smirked, and he just smiled back, shaking his head at you.

“That would be nice.” He replied.

[kerryshifts]

i’m gonna grow wings (and fly away from this reality).

this reality is full of six years old thinking about if things we don’t see, actually exist. when you are a child it’s still socially acceptable to think ‘out of your league’ and so the adults in your life will let out a giggle when you’ll tell them how many things you want to be: a mermaid, a witch, an astronaut, an actress, a fairy. and the list goes on. i remember writing (or at least thinking i was spelling everything correctly… they weren’t even letters) in my mia-and-me themed diary that i couldn’t wait to explore all the things waiting for me. i still vividly remember seeing the tail of a siren, but when i told my mom she just said “ohh cute!” without actually believing me. then the more you grow up, the more society ruins your imagination. no, mermaids do not exist. and you will go to school, then have a job, then marry, then have kids, and then die. that’s it. life !!! maybe if you are lucky enough you will go on vacation.

i was a very stubborn young girl. i didn’t believe immediately and i questioned everything. i learned about the universe in elementary school and i was baffled by the thought that people really thought that we were the only one. i knew we had other lives, and i started to imagine them. what if i was raised somewhere else? what if i was in my favourite tv show? what if i had blonde hair? what if we were all living under the ocean? what if i was an alien? constantly daydreaming about my other possibilities.

i definitely manifested that tiktok about shifting during the quarantine. the gasp i let out when i realized that i was always right. it’s not an uncommon event in my life, actually; people never believing me when i know i am right. but i had the proof !!! people talked about their experiences at hogwarts or in the marvel universe. i KNEW it. but……….. i wasn’t a young child anymore, and i also knew that people lie a lot. i started questioning everything again. what if i just watched tiktoks of this weird wattpad fanfic story that i don’t know the name of? what if they are liars? what if i was just wrong?

as a human, we ( i hope ) question things. of course. i constantly questioned myself if all i was experimenting was fake and other things were happening in that exact moment. when i realized that that’s what shifting is, everything clicked. i laughed so hard because i knew i wasn’t doomed. we have to give names to things, and now shifting, since it has a name, seems somewhat less... normal. but this is not something i read one day on the internet, is something that i always knew. i always felt like it. and my life experiences always proved to me that, at the end of the day, i should always trust my senses. so, i realized that shifting is not this internet trend, but it’s just my human experience. i understand that while one day i wake up to go to school, in that same moment i was in bed. i realized that me acting on my thoughts was just a life-variant of another life-variant.

realizing that i right from the start is a big fuck you to everyone who said that my dreams are impossible since i was a kid. i may not grow wings in the literal sense but having infinire possibilities is just as liberating as flying in the sky.

young children aren’t conditioned by society, they only know what their soul already knows.

[elysianightsss]

Stalker John Price thot🩵🌼

Stalker John Price who firsts sees you in the library, cute little sundress rising up your thighs as your strain to reach for pride and prejudice on a shelf that’s much too high for you to even try to reach.

Stalker John price who goes behind the shelf and pushes the book out from out from the other side, you thankfully catch it before it falls on your head.

Stalker John Price who uses his military experience to stalk you and not get caught.

Stalker John Price who examines your house while you’re at work to find the perfect hiding spots for him and placing the tiniest cameras around.

Stalker John Price who knows how wrong it is when he’s quick to dart into one of those hiding spaces as you open the door sighing from a long day at work but can’t seem to find a reason to care when you start to strip off your work clothes and change into your fuzzy stitch pj bottoms and hoodie.

Stalker John Price who thinks you look so fucking cute in your pjs. He leans forward almost making the house creak wanting to see more of you. He moves when you do, watching with a grin on his face as you cook your dinner while shaking your hips to music that’s blaring through your speaker.

Stalker John Price who smiles softly when you stuff your face full of pasta, your eyes never leaving the tv screen and soon end up falling asleep on your sofa. He feels it’s safe enough for him to come out.

Stalker John Price who presses a sweet little kiss to your cheek and then leaves your house to go home and set up all the cameras on his computer. He smiles seeing you clear as day on the screen in the same position as before, fast asleep on the sofa.

Stalker John Price who knows exactly how you like your morning coffee. He’s watched you make it 1000 times.

Stalker John Price who notes down in his notebook what your favourite foods and drinks are so he doesn’t forget.

Stalker John Price who confides in Simon about what’s he’s doing only for Simon to assure him he’s doing nothing wrong and it’s all normal even if he feels it’s wrong.

Stalker John Price who goes round your house more often after speaking to Simon.

Stalker John Price who gets painfully hard when you’re first out the shower, fluffy white towel wrapped around your wet body. His blue eyes never leaving your figure as you massage lotion into your skin and spray body mist all over. He inhales holding back from groaning at the scent that clings to you.

Stalker John price who watches you through the crack in your wardrobe doors as you pant and whine and buck your hips against the vibrator buzzing hastily against your little clit.

Stalker John Price who is practically drooling when he thinks you’re done, satisfied but watches you reach for the dildo in your bedside drawer. He was in for a long night of restraint.

Stalker John price who comes up with a plan to be a part of your life because he can’t keep going on without having you for himself. Without keeping you.

Stalker John Price who ‘bumps’ into at your local grocery store and the library and your local bar. Eventual you think it’s fate. Never suspecting he would be a stalker. He’s such a nice, sweet guy.

Stalker John Price who is giddy with excitement when you agree to go on a date with him. He makes it the best damn date you’d ever been on. Dinner, dancing and a show.

Stalker John Price who groans, “Fill my hands with you finally.” When you do eventually let him touch you, his large calloused hands grabbing at every part of you he can. “Finally gonna let me take care of you huh love?” He’ll grin down at you as you nod, so whiny and needy for him. “So fucking perfect and all mine.”

Stalker John Price who marries you.

Stalker John Price who cries when you show him the positive pregnancy test.

Stalker John Price who laughs loudly when your children say that daddy is obsessed with their mommy.

Stalker John Price who after thirty years of marriage, three children and 5 grandchildren never admits that he stalked you but tells you everyday how much he loves you.

[leriexoxo]

FRIENDLY FIRE pt.1

pairing: bff! Bang Chan x reader

tags: smut, 18+ MDNI, best friends to lovers, choking, drinking game, dom chan, fingering, squirting, truth or dare

word count: 4.5k

summary: a game of 21 questions with your best friend turns into something intimate and uncharted, will the both of you respect your boundaries or cross the lines?

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Chan have been best friends for years, growing up in the same parts of Australia and attending the same schools, you knew each other inside out to the point where people thought the both of you were always stuck together at the hips. 

That evening, you had just finished microwaving your dinner after changing into your wolfie sleep shorts and tank top when you got a text from Chan saying he was on his way to your place from the gym, apparently his roommate Minho had brought his girlfriend over and Chan didn’t want to deal with all that noise poorly contained by the paper-thin walls in their apartment.

You added another serving into the microwave because you knew he would be hungry as usual, just as you were plating both of your dinner you heard the door beep as Chan punched in your code to enter, it was pretty normal for you both to walk into each other’s apartments without ringing the doorbell, Minho loved you surely but he was so over it though, you on the other hand lived alone in your average sized studio apartment so it was more natural that Chan was over there a lot.

  “Please tell me you have food” Chan whined as soon as he shut the door behind him.

  “Yes, you food monster” you said smiling as he plopped down on the sofa while throwing his gym bag haphazardly to the side

  “What would I do without you?” his eyes lit up like a 5-year-old as he reached for the plate in your hand with the bigger portion.

  “I fear you wouldn’t be able to function without me babe”

You threw him a playful wink, taking your seat on the space next to him which earned you a cheeky grin in return. Flirty jokes were another normal occurrence between your best friend and you, neither of you ever took the other seriously but many of your other friends were convinced you both had something going on, which was so far from the truth.

Yes, you both knew the other was hot, and you both were extremely vain about it, maybe that’s why you both clicked so well. It would be a lie to say you had never thought about Chan inappropriately, clearly you weren’t blind or delusional but your best friend was easily one of the hottest guys you had ever seen, literally sex on legs.

From the corner of your eyes, you drank in his form, his strong muscular arms on full display in his black ‘3RACHA’ wife-beater which was damp from sweat, down to his loose-fitting gray sweatpants, his favorite Calvin Klein briefs peeking out over his waist. No doubt, your best friend was a snack but you shook your head immediately to clear your unholy thoughts.

Chan picked up the remote, “You got something in particular you wanna watch?” he said as he flipped through movies on your shared Netflix.

  “Nah you can just pick anything”

He hummed in agreement. After a while of aimlessly scrolling, he sighed and dropped the remote.

  “Wanna play a game instead?”

  “A game?”

  “Yeah, let me quickly hop in the bathroom and we can play 21 questions” he said, smirking with a mischievous glint in his eye.

  “Oh, I know that look! Okay hurry up, I’ll get us drinks to start”

Chan thanked you for the meal and picked up his gym bag before disappearing into the bathroom. You gathered the dirty dishes to the sink then grabbed two shot glasses from the top shelf in the kitchen and a half empty bottle of tequila from the fridge.

A few minutes later, you had set up the drinks and some snacks on the coffee table, the TV played a random movie on mute when Chan finally emerged from the bathroom, he held his towel to his wet hair completely ignoring the droplets of water running down his bare chest, as you discreetly looked him head to toe, you realized that he didn’t bother toweling off before throwing his gray sweatpants back on, the Calvin Klein brief band he loved to show off was nowhere in sight, your Greek god of a best friend was very naked under that offending sweatpants, you swallowed and immediately averted your eyes before they lingered in places they shouldn’t.

Seeing each other in various stages of undress wasn’t exactly new to you, Chan practically lived in your house and you were comfortable enough around each other to not really care, the problem for you however started when he decided he wanted to get drop dead sexy and started hitting the gym more frequently, the changes didn’t go unnoticed by your body and you started to find yourself picturing him when you had alone time or when your mind wandered while your eyes lingered a little too long on his unbelievable back muscles-

  “Please don’t tell me you drank half of that alone” Chan said, suddenly breaking you out of your reverie.

He had come to settle beside you on the sofa, holding up the bottle as if to inspect it in the light, both of you sat facing each other, your legs were tucked Asian style under you making you sleep shorts ride up higher at the stretch, a movement which Chan caught from the corner of his eyes.

  “Shut up and give me that” you said playfully, reaching for the bottle

  “I don’t know how someone as tiny as you could handle so much liquor” he said, moving the bottle away from your reach and filling up the shot glasses.

  “You’re just jealous cause you’re a lightweight”

That earned you a glare from Chan, “Hey I can handle my liquor just fine, I simply prefer not to drink alone like a loser baby girl”

It was that annoying nickname again, Chan called you baby girl a lot which is probably why your friend never believed you guys when you insisted that your relationship was platonic.

  “Okay I’m gonna go first” he said, the mischievous glint in his eyes returning.

You sighed; this was going to be a long night.

^^^

As the night went on and the tequila set in, you and Chan had both moved the game over to the bed. You had ditched the shot glasses and snacks on the coffee table and you both were facing each other with you giggling at something Chan was telling you about. Naturally, the game of 21 questions had graduated into you

spilling secrets that you never would have on a normal day, and now you were asking each other questions about kinks, first times and worst sexual experiences.

In the past years since you had been best friends and started doing this sleepover routine with Chan, he had always stayed on his side of the bed, no matter how gone he was. But this night? He was feeling a little more intimate, He turned you over and pulled you in by your waist, tucking your back to his chest. His heat immediately spreads over you and before you can speak, Chan does, his lips directly against your ear.

  “I’ve got a question”

  “What?”

  “What’s the naughtiest kink you have but you’re too chicken to admit?” he asked, dropping his voice an octave lower.

You were quiet for so long; your mind wandered back to what your ex had said to you when you told him about this. You weren’t sure if you wanted to tell Chan that. The conversation as it is, was slowly creeping past your friendship boundaries with him and you were trying to be wary of oversharing, Chan on the other hand didn’t seem to mind, he was enjoying this a little too much. You were just about to brush off the question when Chan moved, in one swift motion tugging you under him as he shifted up on his palms. The move made him hover above you, hands on either side of your head and you were even more aware of how his scent drifted into your nostrils. You widened your eyes in shock staring up at him in this sudden new position, your brain faltered. Chan’s full gaze on you suddenly had you fighting the urge to squirm. His features were so perfectly aligned to fit in his face, and when Chan smirked down at you, you could swear he was a god. He had to be a god. It made no sense otherwise how someone could be so wickedly handsome.

  “I can smell the lie about to leave your mouth” he said playfully squinting at me through his bangs that were falling over his eyes.

  “Just tell me! Remember we listen and we don’t judge?” he egged on.

You rolled your eyes, his persuasion had your tongue loosening, might as well just lay it all out, he was your best friend so what’s the worst that could happen?

  “I want to be held down and forced into submission. And then fucked.” You tightly shut your eyes as if trying to hide behind your eyelids, and Chan slightly shifts above you, you could feel his eyes on your face.

  “Held down? F-fucked? Like consensual non-consent?” The way the words left his mouth made it sound so sinfully delicious, and you were suddenly aware of how deep in uncharted waters you were. This seemed wrong. You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, that. I-I’d like to have someone pin me down and have their way with me. To force me to stay still and take it.” Chan went so quiet and still as a rock that you immediately regretted opening your big mouth, you were about to push him off you when his large veiny hand came up to circle around your neck, effectively pressing you into the mattress and pinning you in place, you mouth fell open, eyes wide like saucers, reflexively both your hands reached up to grab onto his jeweled wrist.

  “Like this? If the guy had you under him like this you would want that?” The silence in the room was so loud. Your brain struggled to process what your best friend was saying, this whole situation didn’t even feel real. You struggled to nod.

  “Use your words when I ask you a question” Chan said in a tone that was quite foreign to you, you swallowed.

  “I would try to struggle out of it, but yes. I would want it.” you manage to say.

Chan just continues to stare at you, or rather his hand on your neck.

  “Show me”

  “Chan..” he cut you off by applying more pressure to his grip.

  “Show. me.” he repeated, his eyes daring you to disobey. You started to trash and claw at his hands, at first not with enough force to remove it but when you started to feel the blood drain from your head, you instinctively entered fight or flight mode.

Heat started to pool at the base of your stomach as your body instinctively responded to your best friend randomly choking you out of curiosity, you bucked your hips upwards and met with his for a second and that was exactly when Chan released you and moved off your body just as abruptly as he had climbed on.

  “Shit, that was… I never pegged you for that kind of stuff” Chan said staring at you from the side as you tried to catch your breath, your face burned in embarrassment, you tried to hide under a pillow but Chan chuckled and stopped you. “I don’t mean that in a negative way… at all”.

  “Shut up! I didn’t expect you to actually do that” you whisper yelled, then tried to hit him with the pillow.

  “Is that how you get every time that happens?” he asked after a moment. The redness in your face came back.

  “I’ve never actually done it before… well before now” you muttered.

  “What? I thought...”

  “My ex said I was weird when I suggested it to him, so I never actually did this or went all the way with that fantasy”

  “Are you serious?” Chan was pleasantly shocked, the way you talked about it so wistfully, one would have thought you did it a lot.

  “There’s actually a lot I wasn’t able to do with him” you don’t know why you kept talking, because knowing Chan, he would ask but maybe you wanted to let him know, see what he would say.

  “Uhm, I don’t know if I should ask”

You rolled your eyes and turned away, your back now facing his chest again, Chan didn’t hesitate to pull you back into him, this time though you were aware of little Chan waking up behind you but you said nothing about it.

  “So, one time we watched porn together and there was a scene where the guy was … um, fingering the girl I guess, she squirted so much but I guess it was because he was so fast with it. I asked my ex if he could do that to me, he said it was impossible cause no girl actually came from being fingered, much less squirting, and I know I haven’t. I just concluded a lot of porn isn’t real”

Silence fell upon the room again, you could only hear Chan breathing, and of-course the wheels turning in his head.

  “Why do you think it wasn't real though?” He asks, finally breaking the silence.

  “Nobody gets fingered like that and it actually feels that good,” you replied. “I tried and it just hurts, so she was obviously faking it.”

  “Did you ever stop to think that maybe your ex just didn’t know what the fuck he was doing?”

You scoff. "Now you sound like you’ve actually made anyone cum from your fingers before. I doubt you've ever even made one squirt."

You feel him lift his head from the pillow behind you, "Are you implying I am just as clueless as your ex?"

  “This is not even about my ex,” you say, turning your head to look back at him. “Just stating the obvious, it takes a lot for a girl to squirt, it requires a certain level of expertise and I’ve been with enough guys to know that it’s not as easy as porn stars make it seem.”

  “So, you’re saying, you’ve never squirted before? Like no one has ever even tried?” he asked after a beat, looking at you with that strange serious expression again.

  “Yes, I haven’t and that’s about normal because I haven’t just been with only one guy.” you said matter of factly.

Chan said nothing, only just stared at your face like he was trying to find answers to something. As you stared back however, the absolutely neutral expression on his face, threw you in for a loop. You found yourself backtracking, talking again way too fast and digging yourself into a deeper hole.

  “He was moving way too fast that definitely had to hurt!” you said. “It didn't even look like he was hitting her g-spot, but there she was, squirting all over his hand! It just didn't seem real, I’m convinced they were acting, even her moans were so absurd?” you scoffed, remembering that particular porn video and how jealous and pissed you were of it.

  “Y/n, baby girl” he says. “I'm telling you, if no guy has ever made you feel that good from fingering, they're doing it wrong.”

  “All of them?”

  “I promise you”

  "So, what makes you think you can do it right?" you challenge. You had no idea why you were trying to get a rise out of him, like you didn’t just learn the hard way a few minutes ago when he had his hand around your neck, but he was way too cocky for this conversation, and that was starting to get on your nerves, you didn’t like being the only one who was getting hot and bothered by the back and forth.

  "I don’t think, I know" He stated it like a fact. It pissed you off, how sure of himself he sounded, you were the one with a pussy so you knew exactly what you were talking about and here he was acting like he was a grand master of some sort, that infuriating response of his was what motivated you to say what you did

  "Yeah right, I’d like to see you try." you challenge without much thought.

He lets out a small chuckle. "Be careful what you wish for y/n, I just might grant it"

  "What?" You stutter.

  "You do know what you’re asking right?" he smirks at you.

He shifts closer to you on the bed, his hand around your waist tightening and pulling you flush against him. “You want me to make you squirt... on my fingers” he whispers the last part, his lips so close to your ear that his breath sent visible shivers down your spine, a reaction that didn’t escape your best friends notice.

Okay so maybe you didn’t exactly think that through, you had expected Chan to back off, to re-draw the rapidly blurring line with white chalk but instead he was playing into it, pushing at your boundaries like a game of gay chicken. You were all too aware of his hard on pressing shamelessly on your lower back, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, you both had earlier that evening that caused this sudden boost of daring confidence on both your parts but whatever it was, Chan wasn’t backing down, and you weren’t about to ruin this once in a life time opportunity.

  “I mean, if you’re so confident and sure of yourself, why don’t you prove it?” you quip back.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game y/n” he warns with that dark low voice, pushing his crotch into the softness of your skimpily clad butt, you suck in a sharp bread as he digs into your flesh your thighs clenching in a subconscious response.

  “It kinda seems to me like you’re biting more than you can chew, so prove it Chan”

Your words are sarcastic but you get the reaction you wanted from him nonetheless; he reaches down your stomach and slides under the waistband of your shorts which were already damp and stuck to your naked cunt, pulling them down to your knees in one swift motion. You gasp loudly as soon as you realize you're left completely bare for him.

This had officially crossed into uncharted territory.

Reflexively, you try to cover your naked body but Chan grabbed your hand faster than lightening and pinned it behind you. He used his knee to pry your legs open to hang over his, baring your cunt even more that you felt the cool breeze of the air condition fan it.

  "I don’t think so," he chides. "You don't get to hide from me, I’m taking your challenge y/n." he put his hand on your knee and slowly glided it along your soft inner thigh sending electric sparks up your body.

He leans over the side of your neck to get a view of your core glistening and spread out for him; his mouth so close to your neck making you arch into him which earned a sharp hiss as you ground against his boner. he reached over you, ignoring your core completely to push two of his middle fingers past your lips. Your brows shoot up in surprise and he lets out a small breath that's reminiscent of a laugh.

  "Make them wet." he ordered.

You did exactly as you were told.

You swirled your tongue around the fingers in your mouth, getting them slick and lubed up for him. You did it so obscenely, moaning slightly at the taste of his fingers and he responded by shoving them deeper into your mouth, pumping them in and out like he had mentally pictured doing with his dick to your throat.

  “Look how quiet you’ve suddenly become,” he gloated, knowing he'd already managed to shut you up without even touching your cunt yet. “You only have one chance to tell me to stop y/n, we don’t have to do this, just say the word”

When he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, you shook your head no

  “Words” He warned.

  “I’m fine as long as you are Chan, unless you’re running away” you added the last part cheekily which made Chan chuckle.

He reached down your body, to the point between your spread legs and finally made contact with your folds. His touches were light and teasing. From behind you, he was watching the rises and falls of your chest, your labored breaths, he could even see the way your nipples had hardened in arousal and poking through your flimsy tank top material. Chan was in awe of your perfect body, if anyone had told him when he woke up that morning that he would be touching his best friend in the dirtiest ways only saved for his fantasies by the end of the day, he would have told them to eat shit.

Chan watched with rapt attention the way you tried to clench your thighs again not to hide from him, but to try relieving the pressure between your legs and he just smirks. When he had enough of the teasing, his slicked fingers dipped into your hole without resistance, you can hear the squelching sounds, a telltale sign that you were drenched, you let out a low whine at the delicious intrusion and Chan responded by taking your earlobe into his hot mouth, this time your moan was loud and clear.

He shallowly thrusts his fingers in and out teasing more whines and whimpers out of you, not wanting to give you what you wanted immediately, instead he gathered your wetness, bringing it up to spread across your folds. He tapped your clit with his fingers, not quite stimulating you but when you start to trash and whine to meet his fingers, he shushes you by squeezing your inner thigh and biting your ear.

When his fingers finally pay attention to your clit. He rubs circles around it, rhythmically and systematically working you up, slowly and steadily building you up until you're a complete mess in his hands. He switched between stimulating your clit and fucking his thick middle fingers up into your soaking hole creating the same lewd and squelching sounds you saw in the said porn video, occasionally he would curl them to hitting that honey spot that had you gasping and moaning his name over and over, it was safe to say you were on cloud 9.

You were so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t think before pulling up the hem of your tank top to free your sensitive engorged breasts, you reached for both of them and squeezed simultaneously pulling and twisting at your hardened nubs. You threw your head back onto Chan’s shoulder, giving his mouth access to ravage your exposed skin. Chan didn’t waste time in attaching his mouth to your neck to mark you up, but when his eyes locked on your naked tits it’s like something snapped in his head.

In one swift movement, Chan flipped you to your back again like you weighed nothing but a feather, he assumed his position back above you but in the space between your spread legs. He took a second to let his lust darkened eyes roam all over your body beneath him

  “Fucking hell y/n! You’re so beautiful” he whistled making you blush and look away

  “Look at me, I wanna see the face you make when I take you apart”

When your eyes met his again, the look he gave you was downright devious. He leaned forward not breaking eye contact with you, and spat directly on your soaked pussy. You gasped at the utter nastiness that was your best friend.

  "You liked that didn’t you?"

You nodded, but quickly corrected yourself when he shot you a look

  “Y-yes Channie, I like it”

  “You’re a fucking dirty girl, aren’t you” he sneered and You whined at his words, your hands still squeezing your full breasts, you looked so wanton and vulnerable.

When his fingers dived back into your cunt again the pace, he set was brutal, his fingers thrust into you hard and fast. His other hand joined in on the onslaught and attacked your clit, stimulating you from different points, Chan didn’t relent his wicked pace, all you could hear was his grunts, the sound of skin slapping skin, the squelching of your soaked cunt and your unbridled moans.

  "S’too much Channie" you whine. “Fuck fuck fuck”

  "Not yet baby girl," he tells you again. "You wanted it so fucking bad. You can take it. You’re almost there" Your hips buck up to meet his hands mid thrust and you start to pulsate around him-he could tell you were getting close. His fingers left your hole and attacked your clit, hardened and wet as he rubbed furiously but with precision and rhythm.

  “Chan please stop! I feel like I’m gonna pee” you beg, starting to trash around to escape but Chan splays his free hand across your stomach, effectively pinning you down.

  “No, you’re not baby girl, just let go” he assures you, not slowing down his hands for a second. “Let go y/n”

It was that last flick on your clit that had your body shutting down, all your nerve endings were on fire as you arched away from the bed and into Chan’s hand, your body shook with waves after waves of pleasure, your juices covering Chan in a never-ending spray, drenching his sweats and torso. You couldn’t believe it; you were watching yourself squirt and squirt like a broken faucet all over your best friend who just grinned and licked his lips. He looked like a mad man.

When you came down from your high you watched as he removed rubbed his fingers on your cunt coating his hand with your cum, as he looked at you all smug before he slipped them into his mouth with a grin. You stare at his drenched and still very hard dick in his sweats, still trying to catch your breath.

  "Mmmh, tastes like pineapples" he says to you smirking.

  “Oh my god Chan, what did you do to me?”

  “I just proved that I could make you squirt on my fingers” he winked, before finally getting up from the bed, his large tent still present and more visible now that the cloth was clinging to the very outline of his dick, you couldn’t take your eyes off it, it had to be almost as thick as your wrist and a good 8.5 inches long, your mouth watered

  “My eyes are up here y/n” you must have been staring for a beat too long.

  “You’ve been hard for so long, doesn’t it hurt?” you mutter in a small voice instinctively reaching for him

  “Don’t worry about me, I’ll handle it” he said catching your hand midair and placing a kiss on it. “Tonight, was all about you” he said softly.

  “But...”

  “Shhh, now let’s go get you cleaned up and then ill change the sheets” he cut you off, lifting you easily off the soiled bed and effectively shutting you up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

Authors note: Hi guys, so this fic is a reupload, I divided it into two parts so you can find the second part linked above.

If you enjoyed this fic please leave a like and feel free to reblog!!

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. Very suggestive, mentions male!receiving, possessive behavior

A/N: I want his dick in my mouth so bad, you don't understand.

JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST BY COMMENTING ON THIS POST.

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

P16: Please Me

I can’t look at him. Those dirty thoughts keep running through my head. All I can think about is how good he’d look, what sounds he’d make, how he’d touch me. 

Last night was a lot. I keep having the same dream, the exact imagery that feels so real. 

He’s laying on his back, the mattress dipping with his weight. I feel his hands swarm into my hair. His teeth lightly bite into mine, my hand palming over his hard bulge as I smirk against his lips. 

“Fuck, baby,” he husks, his hazy eyes staring into mine as we pull away for a quick breath. I lick over my lips, smiling wider as his eyes roll back. My palm caresses up and down, his grip in my hair tightening as his hips lift into my hand. He throws his head back, a rough groan erupting from the back of his throat as I reach my into the hem of his pants, feeling him through the thin material of his—

“What’re you thinking about?” 

My eyes bulge, my face cringing with a wave of heat crawling over the back of my shoulders, spreading onto my cheeks. Chris stares at me with curiosity. His hand rests lazily on my thigh that’s thrown across his lap, the TV in front of us echoing with mumbled dialogue as my ears begin to ring. 

“I, um, nothing, just—” I wince as he smirks at me. His eyes gleam with pride, his hand squeezing my thigh lightly. 

“Nothing, hm? You’re just…squirming, ya know?” 

My lips smack together in a tight line. I relax my legs sprawled across his lap, mentally cursing to myself as I realize I’ve been shifting my legs together to try and relieve the growing ache. 

Silence consumes the room as he turns off the TV, running his hands over my legs as he turns his gaze towards me. My chest starts to burn with an electric warmth. I feel my stomach churn with butterflies, my skirt riding up as his fingers hesitantly trace the hem. 

Chris opens his mouth, about to say something. However, his eyes float behind me, his brows twitching with a slight furrow. “What?” he gruffs, his hands unmoving. 

I hear a shuffle of steps behind me. I go to remove my legs from his lap, blushing as he holds them a little bit tighter, shooting me a warning glare. 

“Could you not grope my friend in front of me?” Matt sighs, walking in front of us as he holds his phone to his chest with a tight grip. I try to remove my legs once again, my cheeks burning as Chris pulls them even further into his lap, shaking his head as he squints his eyes at me. 

My lips purse together as I watch him gaze up towards Matt. “What do you want, Matt?” he asks, licking over his teeth with annoyance. 

Matt huffs, turning his gaze towards me. “I wanted to talk with you.” he grumbles. 

I shift in Chris’ lap, trying and failing to stand up. I look over at him, cocking an eyebrow at him as I wait for his grip to fall from my legs.

Tension builds as Chris remains still. He keeps his eyes glaring onto me with displeasure, silence speaking volumes as his hands remain on my thighs. 

“Chris, can I—”

My lips smack shut as he shifts his head left to right, a firm sign of disapproval. 

Matt sighs, sitting on the other side of me as he holds his phone out. I gander down at the screen, my eyes squinting as I analyze the illuminated screen. 

It’s a text from Mia. 

“I’m confused.” I state, my eyes narrowing even more as I read over the text. She wants to hang out, suggesting another double date, and that’s definitely not happening. 

“Well, she, um—she thinks you’re nice and wants to be friends. Mia’s…” he licks over his teeth as a blush crawls onto his face, “-she’s too shy to actually ask—don’t tell her I told you, but I was wondering if, uh, if maybe you’d hang out with us?” 

My head tilts to the side. I feel Chris’ grip on my leg get a little too tight, looking over to see a scowl painted on his face. 

“Not a double date, just…I don’t know, hanging out? I can invite her over here and stay with you guys until she’s comfortable enough or—”

A flourishing warmth in my chest makes my lips move before I can think twice. “Yes! I mean,” I clear my throat, swallowing as I feel Chris clutch onto my leg even tighter, “Yeah, yes—that’s…that’s perfect,” I announce. 

Matt gleams at the statement. “Okay, I, um, I’ll text her and maybe she could come over later today?” he questions. I nod, smiling as I watch him practically skip down the hallway, typing furiously onto his phone. 

A friend. And this time—a girl friend. Not that Matt, Jimmy, and Chris aren’t enough, but I want a girl friend. One that could make me feel like I’m in a movie, gossiping and venting about anything and everything. 

The slight pinch of Chris’ nails pulls me back to reality. My eyes flicker over to him. I watch his jaw tighten, his eyes glaring into the ground as his nose flares. The fluttering warmth in my chest fades to a heavy weight, confusion pulling on my features as I place my hand over his. 

“What’s wrong? It’s not a double date, it’s just me, Matt, and Mia,” I explain. 

Chris loosens his grip, pulling his hands to rest on my knees as he stares towards his fingers twisting together. He shakes his head, licking over his lips. My stomach churns as the silence continues. 

“It’s nothing, it’s fine, just—whatever.”

His tone tells me it’s not just whatever. My teeth clench into the inside of my cheek, my eyes blinking rapidly as I struggle to take a deep breath. 

He’s upset. I’m not sure why, but he’s obviously upset. 

“Chris, tell me what’s—”

“Do you have to?” he asks, interrupting me. 

My eyes narrow as he stares towards me, my lips twitching as I let out a stuttered breath. “What—what do you mean?” I say. 

He shrugs, his hands fiddling on top of my calves as I slowly start to sit up more. A loud sigh escapes his mouth. I cringe as his eyes drift over my face, pausing on my lips as I anxiously gnaw on the muscle. 

“Like…do you have to hang out with Mia? I was thinkin—”

I don’t let him finish. 

“Chris, what?” I stammer, my lips twinging with distaste as he stares back towards the ground. My mouth waters, the sound of me swallowing the only interruption in the room. 

“You don’t want me to hang out and have friends...” I clarify, swinging my legs off of his lap as I cross my arms over my chest. 

Chris stiffens. He tries to scoot closer to me, but the second the side of his thigh brushes my own, I stand up. My hands clench into my arms, my lips twitching as I inhale a shaky breath. 

“You don’t own me. You can’t tell me what to do, Chris. You should want me to have friends, you should—you should want me to be happy.” I remark. 

He shakes his head, his lips parting and smacking shut, almost as if he’s fighting something on the tip of his tongue. My eyes narrow as he gazes up towards me. The distress on his face makes my chest tighten with knots, an uncomfortable pressure sliding up as my cheeks grow warm. 

“Do I not make you happy?” he asks.

A sound of disbelief falls from my mouth as my jaw drops. It’s not that he doesn’t make me happy, he does, he really fucking does. I just want more. A normal life, with normal friends, and experiences that will make me feel like I’m actually living in the present instead of mourning the past. 

My lips tighten into a straight line. I stare down at Chris, blinking back tears of frustration as he stares up at me with a scowl. 

“You’re unbelievable.” I announce, stalking off towards Matt’s room, my eyes fluttering rapidly as my vision starts to blur with hot tears. 

Just why. Why did he have to be like this? It’s just like my ex, the same controlling behavior that made me feel like I only existed to please him. 

And I don’t. I don’t exist to please anyone, not anymore at least. I’m tired of being something for everyone else, that’s why I liked Chris. I thought he actually understood, but maybe I was wrong. 

The cold metal of Matt’s bedroom door knob shocks my senses. I hear a gentle affirmation from him as I knock, pushing open the door as I waltz into the room. Matt spares me a glance. He pats on the edge of the bed next to him, urging me to sit. 

“Ugh,” I gruff, sitting down as I peek over his shoulder, his thumb furiously typing on his screen as I see a plethora of text illuminating the pixels. A smile crawls onto my face. She seems sweet, sending panicked questions of what outfit she should wear, what I like to talk about, anything and everything rolling in rushed and worried. 

“You good?” Matt asks, giving me a quick glance before gazing back towards his screen. 

“Yeah,” I feel my face scrunch, the thought of being surrounded by a happy couple making me a little sad.

___

I really like her. 

Matt had left a while ago, leaving us in his room as we continued yapping, barely taking breaks to breathe, eager to tell each other everything and anything. 

“-and he even made me a paper rose from my favorite book, asking me to be his girlfriend—”

My lips curl into a painful smile. I slap on her arm playfully, my eyes wide with excitement. “I know, I know! He showed me before—”

“Did he really?!” she exclaims, biting on her lip as her eyes soften with adoration. I nod enthusiastically, biting on my lip as I watch her lip pout into a subtle frown. 

I’m really happy for her, but I’m also jealous. Matt set this up for her, helping her make friends because he wanted to make her happy. 

Why couldn’t Chris be like that? 

Does he even really like me if he doesn’t want me to be happy? 

Does he like me if he doesn’t actually understand me?

“What about you?” Mia asks, pulling my eyes back to train on her face as she stares at me intently. I cock my brow at her. “You and Chris,” she explains, urging me to divulge. 

His name hurts to hear. My lips plump together as I bite lightly on my tongue. A deep sigh falls from my lips. Her face falls as she notices my change of behavior. 

“It’s just…he didn’t want me to do this,” I mention, looking over to see her face scrunched with confusion. My lips roll together, my hands twisting together in my lap as I try to find the right words. “This,” I motion between us, “-he…he didn’t want me to hang out with you and…I don’t know…that kinda…stung.”

Her eyes narrow, her lips twinging at the corner with distaste. “But…shouldn’t he want you to make friends and—” 

“Be happy?” I fill in, sighing as she nods affirmatively. My teeth gnaw into the side of my cheek, my neck crawling with an uncomfortable wave of shivers as I sit up straight on the bed. 

“That’s what I thought,” I say, moving my hands downwards to fiddle with the duvet below me. “But…he, um, he…he asked if he doesn’t make me happy.”

Silence. 

Mia looks at me, her face cringing with displeasure. I look back down towards my lap, shame rolling over as I hear the echoes of my words through my mind. 

It sounds bad. Very bad. 

“That’s…” Mia breathes, reaching out as she places her hand over mine, “-that’s really not okay.” she says. 

I nod in agreement, chewing on my lip as I shrink under the tension in the air. A quiet knock on the door erupts. Matt peeks his head in, walking in and shutting the door behind him. He strides over towards us on the bed, standing and placing a hand on Mia’s shoulder while looking over at me. 

“How’s replacing me?” he jokes, gently ruffling her hair. My eyes soften at the sight of a light blush covering her cheeks, I find my hands clutching onto my knees as I sit criss-cross on the duvet across from them. 

Matt looks so excited, so proud. He’s only joking, he’s not actually jealous, he wants her to make friends. 

He wants her to be happy. 

“Oh,” Matt remarks, his eyes twinkling with a smirk as he stares towards me, “I heard—well, I saw that you got one of Chris’ mini pizzas…that’s a big step, huh?” 

The taunting remark makes my face fall with disappointment. Matt notices, his brows furrowing as he dials back the laughter falling from his lips. 

He looks down at Mia. She gives a subtle shake of her head, sparing me a sympathetic frown that makes my heart feel heavy. 

“Uh, Chris wanted to steal you back,” Matt says, licking over his lips as he nervously lets his hand tangle into Mia’s hair, gently twirling the ends, “-but you can stay and hang out with us if you don’t want to—”

Matt’s words are silenced by the door creaking open more. I look over, my eyes foggy with blurry tears as I see Chris peeking his head in the room. 

Mia taps on my leg. I look over, watching her give me a certain stare that’s asking me wordlessly if I want help. I give her a shrug, huffing as I get up and walk towards the door. 

Chris’ lips are sucked into a tight line. His eyes plunder onto my face, wincing as he watches me swallow a lump in my throat. 

“Can we, um,” he stutters, closing Matt’s bedroom door as he reaches out for my hand, clasping gently. “-can we…talk?”

[drdemonprince]

I have almost no energy to move or to think. My eyes hurt. My head hurts. I’m constantly on the verge of puking. The room is spinning. Normally bouncing off the walls with the desire to exercise, try new things, and socialize, all I want to do is sit silently in the dark. I am incapacitated, in an inescapable way, by the demands of full-time work. I had forgotten for a while that I am so profoundly disabled, because I have been able to build a life around my natural rhythms and my inarguable sensitivities. But for just one week, I’ve been thrust back into approximating something of a “normal” working life, and I can’t handle it. Not even remotely. If I were to live by this schedule all of the time, if necessity forced me to work an actual full-time job with real, in-person, full-time hours, I would have zero energy for meal preparation, physical fitness, social outings, on-the-ground activism, or any of the random adventures that make life so worthwhile. In my schedule I’d scarcely find the time for doctor’s visits, tooth cleanings, trips to the DMV, birthday parties, conferences, runs to the post office, or any of the other small journeys that make it possible for supposedly “independent” adult life to run. My health, my relationships, my community, and my grounding in reality would dramatically collapse.

Working full-time is a sickness. And not just for especially sensitive people like me. The friends I know with full-time jobs are tired nearly all the time, and have had to give up on so many of their passions and fulfilling pursuits. Over the years some full-time workers I know have become a bit dull-eyed and distant, no passion in their voice, a ghost of their younger selves. They assume it is because they are growing “old,” but I’m older than many of them, and many people older than me are similarly able to bounce off the walls. We have energy if we get enough sleep, if we eat robustly and eagerly, and if life is filled with shared wanderings that we can look forward to. We need repetition, and comfort, and rest, but also ample space to dream, and the power to bring some of those dreams into reality. So many people under capitalism lack all of those things. Their jobs are a chronic illness they must cradle, manage, and make endless sacrifices for every single day. There is so much they can’t do. They don’t go on dates with their spouses because they’re falling asleep at 8pm. They’re behind on doctor’s appointments and haven’t visited their siblings for years. They’re too weak and weary to travel, to volunteer, to meet anybody new. All they have it in them to do at the end of the day is collapse in front of something familiar on the TV. And it is so normal that nobody even considers it a sickness.

The full essay is free to read or have narrated to you at drdevonprice.substack.com.

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

seven | chapter list

Finding out you’re a princess isn’t half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can’t seem to stop flirting with you. 

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, implied chubby!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au, all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance, slowburn, background wolfstar

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The whiplash of last night's dinner seems rectified at breakfast. Marlene arrives an hour after you wake up with a basket of farmer’s market produce, glass bottles of fresh juice, a dozen eggs still dirty with a baby feather nestled between shells. She brings cuts of bacon so fat it’s practically pork belly, and all manner of greens for the omelettes. “Gotta keep these working men fed,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’d quite like to know why Sirius Black can’t make his own breakfast.” 

Sirius falls in barely half an hour later, all hardness gone, dressed in slacks and a brown leather jacket, his loose curls pinned away from his face. “I’m thinking of growing a moustache,” he says when he spots you on the sofa. “What do you think? I don’t have much space for one, really, but it would look rather refined.”

James shows up soon enough. You worry he’s angry with you after his quick departure last night, but he says, “Princess, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Mum said she saw a photo of us together in the paper. She’s having it framed.” 

Things between James and Sirius are frosty for all of half a day. 

So for a while everyone pretends the conversation about Baron Riddle never happened. Things go back to normal, driving lessons, self defence, clothes shopping. You keep attending your university classes at the local college upon Remus’ assistance —Sirius will find a way to have them transfer your credits, he says, so long as you finish this year. Two more terms and you can take a break. 

You pretend that everything is okay, and permanent. 

“It’ll be Christmas soon,” James says.

You tilt your head to him but keep your eyes on the burning white of the computer screen, scribbling the last words of a sentence down for your next assignment. Researching isn’t fun, and getting James special permission to enter the college building hadn’t been easy, but he makes your long afternoons bearable. “Do you celebrate?” you ask. 

“I do.” 

“Your mum will be happy to have you home.”

“I’m not going home this year.” 

Your beginning smile is stopped, fading fast. “‘Cos of me?” 

“Because this is the job,” he says easily. “It’s alright. I’ll still speak to her. She’s used to not seeing me. I’ve spent more time away from her than with her, for years.” 

You close your textbook, tracing its softening edges in an avoidance of his gaze. “Well. Well, I don’t really need you, James.” 

“No?” 

You meet his eyes. Careful not to spook yourself. He’s looking at you with little emotion, impossible to infer his mood from expression alone. You don’t know what he means to ask you here. 

“Missing out on time with your family for me, when nobody even knows who I am–”

“That’s not true, is it? You get a fair few stares.” 

“Not because they really know who I am,” you whisper. “It’s like seeing someone you’re sure you’ve met before, but really you’ve seen them on TV. I’m like an odd memory or something.” 

“An odd memory.” 

You turn back to your computer and flick through the journal you’re reading for want of something to do. James twists in his chair with a hand fallen between your shoulders. Your skin tingles under his touch. “I just don’t think it’s good of me to have you when I’m fine.” 

“Do you have me, Princess?” James says, his voice turning soft slow as a taffy pull. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Yes, I do.” James’ hand comes to rest on the desk beside yours, not touching you, not moving a millimetre. He can be so still, but it’s a stillness that came with practice. He’s as at ease here as he would be at home, trusting his abilities. Nothing that can get you here scares him, not for a second. “I’m afraid I’m yours for the foreseeable future.” 

You fight down a shiver. “It’s not fair for you to miss out on Christmas. I’ll be fine by myself. I would stay home, I promise, you could lock me in and set me free a week later.” 

“I won’t do that,” he says. 

“But you could, and then you won’t miss Christmas or your mum, and–” You realise you’re talking too loudly and tone it down. “And I’ll be fine on my own.” 

“You said, yeah…” 

You stare at the cover of your textbook. “Right.” 

James checks his watch. In his ‘bum bag’ as he calls it, the radio he’d been carrying around on his shoulder when you met makes a concealed crackle. He pulls it out and brings it to his mouth. “Say again?” he orders. 

“We’re waiting outside,” Sirius says, to your surprise. 

“Pads, you’ve actually done something I asked,” James says in amazement. 

“Not really. It’s Remus’ radio, you know I won’t carry them around. It’s ridiculous. I would’ve liked to have called you but you never answer, even if it’s life or death!” 

“It’s never life or death with you.” 

“Cruel. Tell the Princess to hurry her work, she promised we’d go to the cinema and it’s getting on.” 

“She’s done when she’s done,” James says. 

“I’m finished,” you say. 

“She’s finished,” James says. 

“Oh, good. Has she picked what movie she wants to see?” 

“Sirius, can’t we have this conversation in two minutes, when we’re in the same car.” 

“What’s the fun in that?” 

You pack away your things and log out of your account on the library computer. James offers to take your bag, grumbling when you insist on carrying it yourself, and rebelling against you as you descend the stairs into the college’s entrance atrium by holding open every stairwell door. 

“What movie does he want to see?” you ask James. 

“Never mind him,” James says, stilling at the shock of cold that ebbs from the main doors. “Button your coat, lovely.” 

You thought perhaps James would get to know you more and he’d stop using ‘lovely’. There isn’t all that much about you worth such a nice word, but he still says it. He calls Marlene gorgeous practically every morning when she makes his coffee, Lily sweetness or angel or —really, he’s quite fond of Lily. You don’t see her too often; she’s here to take care of diplomatic matters directly involving you, and so she pops in every now and then to gather your signatures or ask an opinion, busy at the embassy. You get this uncomfortable feeling when you see them together, too complicated to name, like fingers curled tight around your heart, squeezing until you’re squeamish and pounding behind the ears. And Sirius makes these jokes you’re too afraid to ask about, little snippy things aimed to make fun of James in a brotherly manner. Our Prongs likes a redhead. I considered going ginger for a bit, but I don’t have the complexion for it. You have no choice but to sit there still and silent until they change the subject. It must be the not knowing them well that makes it hard. 

Just outside of the college, Remus and Sirius wait in the front seats of a rather nice car. 

“Where did you get this?” James asks, stopped too far in the road. 

“Bought it.” 

“Why?” James asks. 

“You said I couldn’t get a bike.” 

“I said you couldn’t get a bike,” Remus corrects. “James said he wouldn’t get on the bike, or sit by your bedside if you drove it into a wall.” 

“You like it?” Sirius asks. 

James gives you a smug, fond smile. “Do we?” he asks. 

“It’s pretty,” you say. 

“She’s gorgeous, Princess! Don’t downplay it like that! Now, are you getting in? Remus has picked tonight’s movie–”

“Get out,” James says. 

“You are not driving my baby,” Sirius says, “I’ve only had her an hour.” 

“I don’t care how long you’ve had the car, if the Princess is riding in it, I’ll be the one driving it. You know the rules.”

“Yes, but you’re the one who makes the rules, and they’re stupid rules, so I suppose this time you’ll be letting me drive, won’t you?” Sirius asks. 

—

“My own car,” Sirius mutters to himself beside you, “can’t even drive my own bloody car. This is worse than the summer I saved for an electric guitar and my mother smashed it into smithereens in the foyer. At least Walburga let me play a couple of songs first.” 

“Walburga?” you ask, grinning. 

“Patron Saint of hydrophones,” Sirius says offhandedly. ”And cunts. It’s why I hate water so much, see, I’m worried mum’s going to deprive me of protection.” 

“Sorry, Princess, Sirius is having one of his days,” Remus says from the passenger seat. 

“I’m being serious,” Sirius says. “Unsurprisingly.” 

“Don’t let me tell Effy who you’ve just called mum,” James quips. 

“Euphemia,” Sirius says quickly, “name of a well-spoken woman. And she is well-spoken, James’ mum, she’s well everything. Well dressed, well kind,” —he puts his hand on your arm and rubs gently, enough affection for the woman in question running through him that it pours into you instead— “she would just love you to death, Your Gorgeousness.” 

“You are having one of those days,” you say. 

“Not sure I know what you mean.” Sirius grins at you, dark hair in his eyes, his irises a pale grey that catches you. “Alright there?” he asks. 

“Your eyes are grey.” 

“If you fancy me–”

“I thought they were brown, is all, like James’,” you say, voice taking a sharp turn into loudness in a poor attempt to move away from what you’ve said. 

“We can’t all have that dreamy mocha brown,” Sirius says. His grin has changed, morphed into a mischief you aren’t yet familiar with. “We all have grey eyes, the Black’s. My mother and father too. Makes sense they would, what with their… similar heritage.” 

Sirius doesn’t volunteer information about his family often, and as he does he squirms. You wonder if he’d tripped into saying it on automatic. You know intimately how that feels. “Don’t worry about it,” you say, “I spent the last twenty years thinking my mum was a drunk and my father an idea. Of course, I know more about my dad now.” 

“Not about your mum?” 

“Oh, no. She’s dead, I think,” you say. 

“You don’t know?” 

Your turn to squirm. “Not really, no.” 

Sirius frowns. His lips part, a concerned platitude no doubt on his lips, but James’ strong voice cuts in, “You can share mine,” he says, “god knows she’s always trying to find another of my friends to parent. She even tried to baby Regulus when they first met.”

“Your brother?” you ask Sirius, remembering some tidbit of conversation. 

“He isn’t exactly versed in accepting affection,” Sirius says. 

“Neither were you!” James doesn’t look away from the road ahead as his arm reaches back. He points ineffectually. “And now look at you!” 

“Get me out of this car,” Sirius says. 

Remus, grey at the gills, murmurs, “I was just thinking the same thing.” 

Remus wars with migraine–motion sickness nausea on the corner of the street. James, having parked and locked the car once you all emerged, stands straight beside you, worry flashing across his face. Sirius has it all covered, patting the space between Remus’ shoulders slowly as Remus says, “Stop smothering me, or I’ll be sick on your shoes.” 

“Finally return the favour, then,” Sirius says. 

Remus groans, bending further toward the ground. 

“Is he okay?” you ask. 

James doesn’t answer for a while. He sweeps his gaze around the streets, cataloguing people and squinting against the lowering sun as it shuttles behind buildings. The evening cold is setting in, lights of the cinema blue-bright white and buzzing just ahead. “Remus will be alright,” he says, sounding like he believes it wholeheartedly. “Just gets sick sometimes ‘cos of the headaches.” 

It really bothers him, all the same. He doesn’t hide it well, the twitch of his fingers to go help, his furtive glances. He looks up and down the road, behind the cars, around you, and always back at Remus and Sirius. 

“How old were you when you first went away to boarding school?” you ask. 

“We were eleven. Why?” 

“I’m just wondering. You’ve been friends for a really long time, then.” 

“Not too long, now, Princess. I’m only in my twenties.” 

“Right,” you laugh, “of course.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing! It didn’t mean anything.” 

He gets a Sirius brand of smile, then. No, not Sirius at all, just a James you haven’t met before, cheeky and funny at once. “Sure it didn’t,” he teases. “You think I’m old. Do I look old to you? I’ll have you know I’m in perfect athletic shape. My mile time is six minutes on the dot.”

“Very impressive,” you say. 

He rolls his shoulders. “Yes, it is.” 

A couple of feet away, Remus has stood tall, a hand covering his eyes. Sirius covers that hand with his own, his laugh carrying across the street. “You’re a mess, Lupin, but you’re nothing I can’t handle, obviously. Get over yourself.” 

“All I said was ‘fuck’s sake’,” Remus says.

“It was teeming with self loathing.” 

“It‘s like I’m stuck together with shit PVA or something, I feel ridiculous.” 

“You’re fine. You are. You’ve never looked so fine, Moony old chap.” 

“Can you stop?” Remus asks, sounding like he doesn’t mind it either way. 

“Sure,” Sirius says anyways, softer now by a thread. “I’m done.” 

“James, should we–”

James goes down with a quiet thump. Your hearing flats out, no sound of him as his arms curl outward and his back rolls —he’s too smart to let his head smack the pavement. 

You aren’t smart enough to move out of the line of fire. 

A weight like a log forced itself into your stomach, slamming your back to a chest. You thrust your head back hard and cry out as a stab of pain rushes through your head, stumbling as best you can away from it, but the arm doesn’t let you go. 

Sudden, there’s another cry of pain, male this time, and the arm is letting you go. You bound two steps forward and spin in time to see James in a fist fight with a masked assailant, punches popped faster than you can track: you see clearly only points of contact, James taking a hit to the chest, to the head, his face snapped sideways as his knee comes up. He puts all of his weight into the motion and kicks, putting some much needed space between the two of them. 

You glance back for Sirius and Remus in a tizzy and come face to face with another black mask. 

You aren’t sure why you do it. Perhaps James’ sense of urgency rubs off on you, all his echoes of why you don’t want to let an attacker take you away from the public eye if you can help it, or maybe it’s knowing James is locked into his own fight and he might not win against another, caught off guard like that. You can’t confess to thinking, only swinging, the power of your entire upper body thrust into a punch that shatters you with pain. 

Before you can see if the punch had any effect, someone is stepping in front of you and hitting him again. Twice, a third time, James hits the masked man until he’s incapacitated on the ground. 

He swings back to you with a harsh breath. Your ears pop. “What the fuck!” someone’s saying, not James, his lips unmoving as he looks you over. 

“…You okay?” he says finally, stepping into your space to hold you by the arms. “You’re not hurt?” 

You flinch as his hand slips down to yours. 

“My hand!” you yelp, pressing it to your chest.

“What about your hand?” 

“I punched that guy!” 

“Did you tuck your thumb into your hand?” 

“Yes!”

“I told you not to do that!” James exclaims, breathless and vaguely pained as he puts his hands out again to take your injured one. “You tuck your thumbnail against the curl of your index finger!” 

“Is it broken?” Sirius asks seriously, stepping over one of your attackers in his rush to be next to you. “Are you okay? Fuck, it looked like a good one, though!” 

“I didn’t think properly,” you say, biting back a whimper as James rolls down your sleeve, your hand shaking terribly in his grasp, “I was just scared–”

“No, I know, it’s not your fault,” James says in a run on, sounding far outside the realm of a professional as he pokes near your pinky fingers knuckle. Your whine of pain makes it worse. “Sorry, lovely. I think you have a fracture. Fuck, you didn’t have to do that, I had it handled.”

“He was gonna grab me!” 

“I know.” He rubs his brow. “Shit, I’m so sorry.” James raises his gaze to Sirius as though he’s going to ask for something, but he pauses. “Where’s Remus?” 

“Turned into a migraine pretty much the second before those guys turned up, I had to sit him down.” 

James holds your arm with both hands. His eyes are browner than anything as he levels your gaze. “I’m gonna fix this, okay? I just need to make sure they aren’t getting up.” 

“Okay.” The pain in your hand gets worse by the second.  

“Okay?” he asks. 

It hurts so badly that tears form, one dribbling hot and fat down your cheek. “Okay,” you say again, wobbling. 

His lips go flat, but he turns away to start cleaning up. Sirius takes his place, wrapping an arm behind your back with a comforting murmur that you don’t quite hear. 

—

James is gone for hours. Sirius and Mikkelson take you home, and waiting for you is a team of doctors and nurses that seem unperturbed to be treating a princess in her rinky dink living room. The craziest part about it all isn’t that you’ve been attacked, or that the two doctors and three nurses are smiley, unhurried but not uncaring, and it’s not that you wish James was there so sorely it has you unsettled despite the rapid pain relief, no. The craziest part is the portable x-ray machine. 

“We could’ve gone to the hospital,” you tell Sirius, leaning back in your kitchen chair as a sweet-faced nurse slips a brace carefully over your injured hand. 

“No, we couldn’t have.” 

“I don’t understand why not.” 

“Yes, you do.” Sirius points at the plate of biscuits by your cup insistently. “Go on.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Just something quick for your blood sugar. Or pressure? One of them. Would you rather have a sandwich?” 

“No.” 

“Princess, please,” he says, giving you a frown you're unused to, like you’re pissing him off and he expects it. 

You grab a biscuit to appease him. 

Remus is wrapped in a throw blanket in your bed, likely sleeping, or perhaps still furious that Sirius had asked one of the nurses to give him a good look. Her diagnosis wasn’t anything new; Remus is suffering in the third stage of a migraine. It’s best he be left alone for a little while to rest. He’s going to be very tired when he comes out of it. 

James hasn’t returned yet. When they first stuffed you to the brim with painkillers, you’d thought morosely that you‘d needed him there, but now you just wonder what’s taking him so long. Who were those men? One of them had grabbed you tightly with intent to drag you away, so where were you going? 

Your flat is growing more crowded by the second. Marlene is in the living room trying to take dinner orders from extremely happy doctors and bodyguards alike, and with her is a stranger, a woman with dark skin and darker hair, black curls piled away from her face. You haven’t asked about her yet. Perhaps Marlene needs help catering for the sheer amount of people. 

“This isn’t exactly incognito,” you say, “all these people.” 

“Yes, well, James wants you to move anyways. And maybe that’s for the best. It’s rather cramped in here.” 

“It wasn’t,” you say. 

He assesses you quietly. 

“What?” 

“It’s alright if you don’t want to move, but you must know you’re a sitting duck here.” 

“I must?” 

“You are not a normal person, and you never will be. James won’t tell you about the things you should be scared of even if he’s honest about the risk, and I was at the mercy of his wrath last time, but I don’t care,” he says honestly. “I don’t. I need you to know that you’re not safe and it’s not because of some invisible maybe, there are real forces at play here. The sooner you move, the better. I know,” —he lowers his voice— “it’s a massive change, and you haven’t had time to catch your breath, but you can’t get comfortable now. And hey, you can keep the flat, yeah? You don’t have to give it away, but things aren’t safe here.” 

“But why not?” 

“It’s the Baron,” Sirius says, serious, quick, glancing at the door, “he’s not just cruel, he’s evil. He’s done things you’d never think he’d get away with, not now. It’s like the dark ages in his courts, the pure bloods–”

“Sirius, what the fuck?” Marlene says, pushing the door until it hits the wall. “Enough. She fucking broke her hand.” 

“And I’m telling her why.” 

“She broke it because she punched someone the wrong way,” the unknown woman says, warm but disapproving at once. “Who taught you to fight?” 

“Uh, it’s self defense,” you say uselessly. 

“James,” she tuts. 

Marlene appraises the nurse where she’s lingering at the counter, putting away her things. “Are you staying for dinner?” she asks, which is mostly sincere, just a tad pushy. 

The nurse says, “No, thank you,” and makes herself scarce. 

“This is Dorcas,” Marlene introduces as the door closes. No explanation to who she is follows as they settle against the counter tops. 

“Hi,” you say softly. 

“Hello.” Dorcas smiles, all signs of her disapproval wiped clean. “How’s the hand?” 

“Hurting.” 

“It’s nothing some rigatoni arrabbiata won’t fix, I’m sure.” 

“Sorry, Dorcas, but why the fuck are you here?” Sirius asks pleasantly. 

“Why do you think?” she asks sweetly back. 

“Usually to fuck me off.” 

“Enough,” Marlene says. “If you’re going to argue, you have two options. You can do it while pulling the tendons from these chicken fillets, or you can do it outside.” 

“Pass,” Sirius says. “I’ll go on as usual, as long as the snake stays quiet.” 

“You’re as bad as.” Dorcas crosses her arms over her chest. 

Sirius doesn’t rise to the bait, despite himself, and Marlene opens your fridge to begin cooking. He doesn’t mention the evil forces in play again, leaving you in your agony to brush it away. You’ll think of it later, or never, whichever comes first. 

“You can go to bed, if you like.” 

“Remus is in there.” 

“He won’t care. Pretty sure he had one of us in bed with him from first year to last,” Sirius says, taking one of your biscuits and eating it in two quick bites. 

You remember your own and put it down next to your cup of tea. Tea is fine, but these boys are constantly plying you with it and you’ve had enough to last a while. And the biscuits —who thought you could ever be sick of biscuits? 

“I’m not tired,” you say. “Maybe I’ll… finish some school work.” 

“Sure. Gonna be okay typing without your hand?” 

You wince. “Fuck. It’s my dominant hand, too.” 

“You’ll be out of commission for a while. Sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault.” You look down at your twinging hand, a slice of shadow banding across it under the table. “I’d rather have a broken hand than be dead.” 

“No one was going to kill you. Is that what Sirius has been telling you?” Marlene asks, glaring at Sirius from over her shoulder, her eyes like blue fire. 

“No,” you say. “He didn’t have to say anything about it to me for me to know I was in danger.” 

Marlene isn’t chastened. “You’re okay. James protected you, and he will again. You don’t need to worry about it, about any of that stuff.” 

“That’s willfully ignorant,” Dorcas says. 

Sirius takes another biscuit. “I actually agree.” 

They’re friendly from then on. You don’t have it in you to be surprised. 

—

James cannot stand London much longer. The police officers are knobs, the roads are shit, and now you’re getting attacked by freaks outside of the loneliest cinema he could find. He’s spent three hours in an interrogation room with a prick and one of the guys who tried to attack you, asking their intentions, who they work for, who they are, and it hasn’t mattered, when he could’ve been making sure you were alright. He gave strict instructions on how you were supposed to be treated and by who, but Sirius doesn’t always listen. What James realised somewhere between leaving you on the side of the road and the police station, is that he has sorely underestimated what needs to be done here to keep you safe. Dorcas might go a ways of helping that along, but he needs advice. 

He needs Mary. Maybe Lily and Emmeline full time. He needs anyone willing to help him. Dearborn, the twins. Reinforcements are necessary. 

He needs to breathe. He can’t believe you broke your hand doing something he should’ve done first. 

“Fucking winded me,” he says to himself, rolling his sore shoulder as he takes the stairs to your flat two at a time. “Wanker.” 

“Kiss your mum with that mouth?” Remus asks lightly. 

He’s sitting at the end of the hallway away from your flat with the window wide open, a cigarette wobbling between his lips. It’s not lit yet. 

“You should stay in bed,” James says, crossing the hall to stand by him. He finds a zippo lighter in Remus’ pocket and flicks it open, holding the flame to the cig, letting the end smoulder. “How is it?” 

“It’s not that bad. Didn’t make me sick.” 

“Wobbly?” James asks, closing the zippo to tuck away in his own pocket. 

Remus takes a deep inhale, hand on the window ledge to steady himself. “Only when I breathe,” he says on the exhale. 

They stand together for a bit. James sort of wants to smoke, it’s not like he didn’t do his fair share in school, but he was lucky it never caught him like Remus and Sirius, who both consider themselves casual smokers. I smoke to celebrate, Sirius said once, and to commiserate. So that’s a few a day, at least. 

Remus is less inclined. James can’t blame him either way. Isn’t he owed a vice while his head rears to implode? 

“How is the princess?” James asks eventually. 

“I can’t confess to seeing much of her,” Remus says, voice light enough to imply that you’re fine. “But she’s spent the afternoon with a fracture and Sirius. I dare say she’s miserable.” 

“Her hand is broken?” 

“Yep. But it’s a boxer’s fracture, it’ll heal in a month.” Remus gets about halfway down his cigarette before he squints at James with suspicion. “You were in a rush.” 

“Just checking you’re okay.” 

“Mm.” He takes another drag before pulling the cigarette from his mouth, flicking a tall line of ash out of the window. “She’s not upset with you.” 

“She should be.” 

“James, you’re such a martyr.”  

He shrugs. “I’m here to protect her and at the very first hurdle I’ve let her down. Actually, the second hurdle, because I’ve already hit her once, so hard she could barely keep her eyes open.” 

“You didn’t hit her, don’t say that.” 

“I did hit her.” 

“With a door.” 

“Yes, with a heavy object.” 

“By accident!” Remus laughs and snuffs his cigarette on the wall outside the window, drawing the butt inside a curled fist. It makes James wince. “You’re alright. Truthfully I think she just wants to see you ‘cos you’re nice to her.” 

“You’re nice to her.” 

“Yes, but I’m not in the best working order right now.” He smiles. “And I’m not like you, I won’t put my arm around her.” 

“Please don’t.” 

“I won’t. I would if she was upset, but she doesn’t seem upset. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 

“Don’t say it like that!” 

Remus laughs again. “Like what? Stop making me laugh, my head is throbbing.”  

Sirius once made Remus laugh so hard it prompted a migraine, or at least it was conveniently timed. He swore off jokes and being witty for a good two weeks. “Shall I never joke again?” James asks. 

He sounds tired, even to himself. 

“It’s a start,” Remus says. 

“Time is it?” 

“Time to stop being a coward, I think. Little after seven. You’re done?” 

“Done. Too tired to make better decisions.” 

“You know that song by the Rolling Stones, Miss You?” Remus presses his hand to an eye. “Stuck in my head.” 

James loves how much Remus loves to talk to him. It’s stupid. “Guess I’m lying to myself, it’s just you and no one else,” James sing-songs quietly, with an eyebrow wiggle.

“I like your voice more than his.” 

“Charmer.”

They follow one another down the hall to your door, where Mikkelson couldn’t look more bored keeping guard. Poor Mickey with the shit jobs and no company. At least he’s well paid. In the living room, there’s little evidence of the work he’s thought would be done here. No medical waste or mess, each pillow cleanly placed and each trinket of yours where you left it. There’s not much sound, but James cocks a trained ear and listens for everything. A rustle in the bathroom. A breath taken in the kitchen, then another. There’s definitely kissing, he thinks, heaving a horrendous sigh to let the lovebirds know they have company. 

Could’ve been you and Sirius, but he can’t see it happening. 

Marlene appears around the kitchen doorway, ever so slightly pink. “Hullo. Dinner?” 

“Yeah, please.” 

“Sure. Remus, you want something? Chicken soup?” 

Marlene will make chicken soup as most Genovian would, with pastina or acini de pepe, fresh rosemary, thyme, and Parmesan rind shredded over the top. It’s no less delicious than any other dish in her arsenal, but it’s so, so homely that Remus sighs wistfully and James can’t not ask, “Soup for me, too?” 

“Sure. It’s what I made for the princess, poor girl.” 

“She’s in the bathroom?” 

“For a while.” Marlene has the decency to smile apologetically. “You boys like red pepper, yeah?” 

“And Sirius?”

“I don’t know, James, I’m not a psychic.” 

“Right. Hi, Dorcas, how are you?” 

Dorcas appears in the door. James might think she was reluctant if he didn’t know better; Dorcas doesn’t ever do anything she doesn’t want to do. Her smile says something unreadable. “Fine,” she says concisely. 

James trudges away. In the bedroom, Sirius is curled up on your bed asleep. He shakes his head in wonderment and carries on to the bathroom. There’s water running behind the door, accompanied by the soft sounds of under-the-breath cursing. 

“Angel,” he says before he can stop himself, “are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

“James?” 

“Yeah, are you okay?”

“James, I… have a long sleeve top on, and it’s hurting more than I thought with the cast. Can you… do you think Marlene would come help me?”

He shouldn’t — “I can help, angel. Is it hurting? You’re stuck, aren’t you?” 

“Just a bit.” 

Your hesitant voice echoing off the walls makes him chuckle. “I can get Marlene,” he says. 

He’s already turning when you say, “Uh, no, that’s fine. Can you get me out?” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I want it to be you,” you say quietly. 

James doesn’t know what to do with that. He opens the bathroom door and finds you uncomfortably twisted. You’ve tried to take off the sleeve on your injured arm first and ended up with the back of your shirt pulled away from you, pulled up, tight against your neck, a little gap between your chest and the fabric. You aren’t scandalous, barely undressed, but James knows you’re shy about how you look from fittings and intuition alike. He quickly encourages your uninjured hand into the air to loosen the band of fabric from behind your neck, and then easily tugs the entirety of it up your arms and off of you, more careful at your dominant hand. The moment you’re released, he takes the soft sleep shirt you’ve put on the laundry basket and ruches the sleeves. He sews your injured hand tentatively though one sleeve, then the other, before slipping it over your head and pulling it down. His knuckles skim your naked back, and he’s careful not to touch bare skin again. When he’s neatened you up, he holds your side in one hand. “Are you alright?” he asks, frowning. 

“I know it’s just a fracture, but I feel like I can’t use it. Hurts.” 

“There’s no such thing as just a fracture,” he says. “Fractures hurt. Your hand is broken, it’s alright if you can’t move it. Do you need any more help?” 

You shake your head. “I managed the trousers by myself, thankfully.” 

James looks you over and finds himself softening swiftly. He does feel sorry for you. He thinks you’re allowed an allotment of pity. But he also just likes you, and doesn’t want to see you in pain. His colossal guilt doesn’t help. 

The darkness from outside is creeping in. You’ve a shadow on your cheek, another stretching out to your side. Your pajamas are worn —well-loved— a simple black t-shirt with a teddy bear on the chest and blue pajama trousers to match the teddy’s bow tie. You’ve the appearance of somebody who cried for a good hour or two, not so much splotchy or sore looking as simply coloured by the after effects of distress, a tiredness to your eyes that has nothing to do with sleep. You look small, but not in the sense of proportions. Just small. 

“How’s your pain?” he asks you quietly. 

“It’s not bad if I don’t move it.” 

“Try not to, then.” 

“Is everything okay?” you ask. 

“It’s all fine. I don’t have any more answers for you. Please, forgive me.” 

He knows a grudge hasn't crossed your mind. Still, he’s surprised again by your endless goodness, whether you might see it that way or not, your propensity for leniency and how it can be a brave, kind thing, “It wasn’t your fault, it just happened. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if you weren’t there… Well, I can imagine. I can. And it really scares me.” You press your splinted hand to your abdomen. “Thank you for keeping me safe, James.” 

I didn’t keep you safe, I barely got to you in time, he thinks. He’s in over his head. He’s practically drowning in shame and responsibility and self-obsessed inner turmoil. 

He wants to be his best, for you. He wants to do this well. 

James has no idea how he’s going to do this. 

“You’re welcome,” he says, hiding everything but a stitch of breathlessness from his tone. 

“Did you eat?” you ask. 

In over his head. Drowning, maybe. “No. Did you?” 

“I don’t have much appetite.” 

“Marl’s made chicken soup with little pasta stars,” he says, nodding toward the door. “You’ll love it. Promise.”

“You’ll eat too?” you ask. 

James feels a tightening in his stomach that he wisely ignores. Without answering aloud, he encourages you out of the bathroom to the kitchen, and you both eat.

He’s helping Marlene clear the plates away when you hesitate by the door. Sirius has unceremoniously tumbled from your bed to the sofa when Remus tried to rouse him, begging tiredly to be allowed to stay. You’d said yes without problem. You trust Sirius, and if you didn’t, James thinks you might trust him enough to know who you can be left alone with. Remus and Dorcas have been ferried back to the accommodation by one of the others. Marlene and James are set to leave together as soon as the kitchen is squared. 

And yet you hesitate. 

Haunting the door, James recognises the way one hand flutters, almost squeezes the air, wanting to wring the other but unable.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, trying to use his body as a wall to offer you some privacy.

“Nothing.”

“You can go to bed if you need to, you don’t have to wait for us.” He manages a smirk. “You want me to change the sheets, don’t you? That Sirius Black character is a real heathen, isn't he? I don’t think a day went by when we were kids where his bed wasn’t inundated with crumbs.” 

“He ate in bed?” you ask. 

“Small rebellions.” 

“Remus says you guys shared a lot.” 

“We did. I don’t really know why. I know boys aren’t ‘supposed’ to love each other like that, but we never grew out of it.” James lonely without his mum and dad’s bed to climb into, Sirius realising he could have comfort whenever he wanted, even if he didn’t need it, and Remus, usually unwilling, occasionally doing the work himself if it was what was necessary to sleep again after a bad dream. (And the other, who didn’t often share, but leaves a bad taste in James’ mouth to recall.) 

“And it helped?” 

“Sometimes.” 

You squirm on the spot, but you force it out. “James, will you stay?” You’re apologetic. “I don’t think I can sleep if you go. I’m not scared, I promise, but…” 

James’ voice gets caught behind his teeth. 

“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine. But if you don’t mind, you can stay, you can have my bed, if you want, I’d just feel better if it was you.” 

“Of course I’ll stay.” 

You smile. 

“It’s my job to look after you. If you feel better knowing I’m out here on the sofa, then I’ll stay.” He offers a smile usually saved for his friends.

“Okay.” Something in you has gone slack. You’re warmed from the inside out, and so suddenly tired. “You won’t go in the bed?” 

“I won’t take it from you, no. I quite like how you make the sofa up, I’ll just shove Sirius over. I want the pillowcase with flowers and the blanket with fleece underneath, please.” 

You leave to get his provisions. He follows your gaze. It’s why he knows you look back at him as you cross the threshold to your room. 

[planetaryupscaled]

Our Little Secret

Male Reader x Eunbi

Tags: 4k, creampie, stepmom

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

“Oh you like that? you naughty boy.”

—

I became a new half-brother three months ago, at the age of twenty-three. Though I know this is completely normal, it still feels strange to be so much older than my sister. Even stranger that my step-mom is not much older than me. A year ago, my dad married a twenty seven year old woman. She had her child three months ago at the age of 28. It still feels strange to see them with a baby. But I'm getting used to it.

As I walked up to the door of their house, I took out my key and unlocked the door letting myself in. Walking in, I set my bag next to the staircase.

“Hello.”

“Hey Tae,” my step-mother, Eunbi, called. “In the living room.”

Walking into the living room I was a little startled as she was breastfeeding Sooyun on the couch.

“I hope you’re not offended by this,” Eunbi said looking up at me with smile. “I was just finishing giving her a snack before putting her down for bed.”

“Oh no, not at all,”

“Good,” she replied with a soft smile. “Going to put her down and let your dad watch her for a while. Though he’s taking a quick nap, had a hard day at work I guess.”

“Figures,” I said with a bit of a knowing look.

“Yep, that’s him. Always the party crasher,” Eunbi said as she walked out of the room.

As Eunbi walked by me, I caught a glimpse of one of her breasts, as she hadn't put that side of her spaghetti strap top back on. She obviously wasn’t wearing a bra and while I had noticed it before, her breasts really had grown quite a bit since her pregnancy. Probably has a lot to do with the milk stored in them now. She used to probably be something like a B cup, I never looked that hard really, she is my step-mother after all.

I was sitting on the couch with a bottle of water by the time she came back into the living room. Walking back in I looked a little more closely. At her breasts and entire body, they really had grown a considerable amount.

Eunbi was very attractive. She had pretty tanned skin and black long hair that flowed down her shoulders. Her eyes were dark brown. She was pretty much back in good shape, loosing most of all that extra pregnancy weight, which just in three months is pretty amazing. Eunbi was about 5’3” I would guess and what she was wearing only helped make her look better. Not that she really needs it.

Since it was the middle of summer, it made sense that she had on the black spaghetti strap top which she had put back into place but still no bra. She was wearing light colored jean shorts that probably went to about mid-thigh, showing off her legs nicely with a pair easy slip-on sandal.

“Would you like anything else to drink?” Eunbi asked as she noticed my bottle of water.

“No, water is just fine,” I replied with a soft smile.

“Oh being healthy tonight huh?” she teased lightly.

“Hey! I am, most of the time,” I shot back playfully.

“Well,” she replied looking at me. “With a physique like that, you must.”

“Water does help,” I replied mid laugh and with a smile. “Thanks.”

Eunbi then walked over and sat next to me on the couch as she turned on the TV, with only about four inches separating our legs. She turned down the volume enough so that we could still hear each other talking.

“So did you have a decent day?” Eunbi asked turning her head to look at me.

“Eh it wasn’t so bad,” I replied with a smile. There was a moment after I replied that we both looked into each other's eyes for a second longer than usual before we both turned our heads to look back at the TV.

“Ahh shoot,” Eunbi sighed as she stretched her legs out in front of her, stretching her muscles. “I forgot Sooyun’s bottle in the kitchen, and I am so full of milk right now. Sooyun didn’t want much earlier.”

She gently held her breasts underneath them on the bottom as she referred to how full they were. It was then that I noticed her nipples were really hard and pushing outward underneath her top. It feels kind of wrong marveling at her breasts like that, but I can’t say I don’t like them either.

“I’ll go get it for you.” As I was about to go get it, she held my hand.

“Oh no, don’t worry about it, I can do it later.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah…” she replied with a smile. As she said that she moved herself right next to me, the sides of our bodies touching and she laid her head down on my shoulder, “I’m sure.”

I wrapped my arm around her, letting my hand rest on her shoulder as I held her gently. Her hair smelled good too, she must have taken a shower a little bit before I got here. A fruity smell, maybe mango or something like that.

“I hope she turns out to be as nice and caring as you,” Eunbi said softly with her head still on my shoulder and looking forward.

“I’m sure she will and thank you for the compliment.”

With that she moved her head and looked up at me with her pretty brown eyes and said, “Of course. You fully deserve it. You’re a wonderful step son.”

I smiled back as she said that, meeting her smile. We held the gaze for a few moments looking into each other's eyes, perhaps a couple seconds too long this time. Breaking the gaze, she laid her head back on my shoulder. Looking down I noticed her nipples were still hard, maybe even harder now.

“This may sound kind of strange but I was wondering,” I started to ask looking down at her. “Do you ever...taste yourself? I’m just curious. I would think mothers would.”

Propping her head up a bit she looked back at me and asked, “You mean my milk?”

“Umm...” I started to reply as I let it sink it what she said. Realizing that what I asked could have meant something else that I didn’t mean to ask at all I quickly said, “Yes, your milk.”

“I have actually, yes... it’s kind of sweet tasting with a bit of a saltiness to it,” she said giggling a little bit as she smiled back at me obviously getting what I was realizing. “Why? Did you wonder what it tasted like?”

“Just curious, really,” I replied somewhat innocently. “Though I guess now that I think about it, yeah I did.”

“Would you like to try some? It is safe for grown people too!” she said playfully.

“Umm, I guess…” I said somewhat hesitantly. Not quite what I had in mind but this seemed o.k. “Do I need a glass or something?” dumb question to ask on my part.

“No need,” she said with a smile looking me in the eyes. “It is best if you try it from the source.”

“Eunbi...” I called out her name. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea... I know we’re not related and all but you are my step mom.”

“Its fine…” she said reassuringly. “One little suck isn’t mean anything and no one will ever know but us.”

With that, she pushed both straps of her top down her arms, over and off of her breasts. Exposing them. Her large tanned skin, luscious looking breasts were gorgeous. Her aureoles were dark pink, large, and swollen, and her nipples were hard and pushed straight out. Her breasts hung down slightly, which she pushed out by pushing her chest forward as she looked at me.

“Wow they’re gorgeous,” I whispered softly under my breath, realizing a moment later she probably heard me.

“Thanks,” she replied with a smile looking at me and gently cupping her breasts at the bottom of them. “Take your pick as to which one you want your sample from. Just be careful, they’re extra sensitive right now.”

I smiled back, looking her in her eyes before slowly lowering my head. I moved my mouth toward the one closest to me—her left one. As my mouth neared her nipple, I slowly stuck out my tongue and gently flicked the tip of her nipple. She drew in a short quick gasp as I did and I knew, even if it was wrong, that she probably wouldn’t mind if I had more than one quick suck.

As my mouth reached her nipple, I grasped it with my lips. Gently flicking it with my tongue inside my mouth, I began to softly suck on her hard nipple. Feeling milk seep out of her nipple and into my mouth I sucked a little bit harder as then her milk squirted into my mouth. It did taste somewhat sweet with a hint of saltiness. It wasn’t too bad as I swallowed it and sucked harder, getting more of her milk into my mouth.

After that larger suck I removed my mouth and ran my tongue from her nipple all the way across her other breast to her other nipple. Grasping that one in my lips just as I had the other, I began sucking on it taking her milk into my mouth. Moving my hand up I very gently pinched her other nipple as I sucked.

“Ohhh,” Eunbi sucked in a sharp gasp. “Oh Tae, I haven’t been touched like this in months. This isn’t right but… don’t stop.”

Hearing her say that only made me suck harder, taking more of her sweet warm milk into my mouth. After I had a little more of her milk, I removed my lips from her nipple and looked up at her smiling. She returned the smile and looked at me with her brown eyes which said that she clearly wanted more.

Moving my head up to be level with hers, I took a chance and leaned in and kissed her gently on her soft lips. She didn’t back away, instead she kissed me back, gently at first but soon we were kissing passionately. She had wrapped her arms around me, pressing her breasts into my chest. I had one arm around her while my other hand was pinching one of her hard nipples.

In the middle of our embrace, she abruptly stopped and pulled away. Looking back at me, “We can’t… This is wrong, what are we thinking? especially not right here and now, your dad, he’s only taking a nap. He could wake at any time.”

“Yeah...” I sighed softly as I leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. “I guess you’re right.”

“No more of that either, except this last one…” she said with a sly smile as she gave me a hard deep kiss before pulling away.

Eunbi then cupped her breasts in her hands, gently kneading them outward squirting her milk out of her nipples at me, particularly my face. I smiled at her as she did it a few times before putting her top correctly back on.

“I’m so glad you liked that,” she said gently wiping the milk off my face. “I don’t know if we can ever continue this, it is wrong, but deep inside, I definitely want to.”

“Am too,” I smiled back at her.

“Good, I am glad we understand each other,” she replied. “I'll go get dinner ready.”

With that she got up off the couch and left the living room. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Was this some kind of dream? I pinch myself, nope I guess it wasn’t. I really had just sucked milk out of my step-mothers nipples and we had both enjoyed it immensely.

The rest of the evening went by and we had our dinner, and talked about random things before saying our goodnights and heading to bed.

Getting to my room was all the way up the third floor of the house. It was somewhat of a loft because it was the only thing up here. The staircase came directly into the room after opening the door. But you didn't have to go up a ladder, so it wasn't really a loft. Getting into bed I decided to sleep naked like I normally do. It was warm enough and after a little while of dozing, I fell right asleep.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to hear the baby during the night as they were all the way down on the first floor. But sure enough I was able to as at about 2 am when she started crying. After about 30 minutes it seemed to be perfectly quiet again with no outbursts at all.

About 15 minutes later, I heard the door to my room creak open, then close again. Looking up from my bed still in a groggy sleep, I saw Eunbi standing near the door, watching me. She was wearing what looks to be a silk nightgown in a light peach shade color that goes down to her mid-thigh. Her nipples were hard again and pushing against the fabric. I smiled at her as she looked at me.

“I know I said we probably couldn’t do any of this again,” she said quietly. “But my body and mind are just begging to be touched again. I haven’t been touched like you did earlier in a long time.

“Your dad once I got close to term with Sooyun stopped wanting to be with me in this sort of way for the most part. And now after she’s born, it’s been even worse. I need, and want the attention.”

“I don’t know how anyone could pass up someone as gorgeous and sexy as you,” I replied with a smile.

As I said that, she walked over to the edge of my bed, pulled back the covers, and got in next to me, smiling. She placed herself close to mine before she leaned in and kissed me, we kissed passionately as she ran her hand down the side of my body from my shoulder down to my thigh.

“Sleeping naked huh?” she whispered with a mischievous smile. “I like that. I’m only wearing this nightgown, and I’m sure we could change that.”

“Oh?” I commented giving her soft kiss. “Well, why don't we right now?”

Eunbi smiled at me as she sat up in bed and pulled her nightgown over her head, revealing her wonderful breasts as well as her pussy. Looking down, I noticed she had some hair down there before wriggling back under the covers and pushing closer to me.

“Sorry about the hair down there,” she said looking down her body. “I have let it grow lately without doing much to it.”

“Sorry?” I replied with a bit of shock that she was apologizing. “You’re gorgeous how you are. I love it.”

“Really?” She commented excitedly with a smile and a warm kiss. “I’ll keep it then. Just for you. Our little secret.”

Gently running my hand down her soft skin on the outside of her thigh I slowly moved inside and then upward. She instinctively moved her legs apart as I reached her pussy, which was hairy, wet and warm.

“Mmmmm,” Eunbi moaned quietly as my hands ran across the slit of her pussy lips. “I need this so bad.”

“And I want this too bad.” I said.

Eunbi trying to push her pussy down more onto my hand. “You can have all of me that you want, the way you want.”

I gently slipped two fingers into her wet throbbing pussy and began pushing them in and out of her, curling them inside as she moaned quietly in pleasure. Taking my fingers out, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her body against mine, pressing my hard thick cock into her mound of pussy hair as I kissed her deeply and passionately.

She broke away a little bit and grasped my hard cock in her hand, starting to stroke it up and down with her slender fingers from its base to its head.

“Ohhh Eunbi…” I moaned as she increased her speed while stroking my hard cock. “That feels so good… don’t stop.”

As she continued to stroke my cock, I took one of her breasts in my mouth. Wrapping my lips around one of her hard nipples I began to suck on it letting her milk squirt into my mouth. I continued to suck on it, letting more and more of her sweet milk into my mouth. She stopped stroking me as intensely as she was groaning in pleasure from my sucking and pinching of her other nipple.

“Oh god Tae, yes...take all the milk you want from me,” she moaned in pleasure.

Smiling up at her after she said that, I moved to her other breast licking her big sensitive dark pink swollen aureole before grasping her nipple with my lips. Sucking in I took more large squirts of her milk into my mouth, savoring its sweet taste.

Eunbi had moved her hand back to my hard cock and was slowly stroking it up and down, playing with the head of it and any pre-cum with her thumb.

“Mmmm, oh yes,” I groaned lightly as I took my mouth off of her nipple.

“Oh do you like that Tae?” Eunbi asked playfully. “Glad you do because I can’t go any longer without your big hard thick cock inside me. I’m throbbing for it more than I knew I ever could.”

With that she threw back the covers on the bed and straddled me. Kneeling over me she pressed my cock down on my stomach with her hairy pussy and grinded gently on it. Smiling down at me she began to knead her breasts outward, squirting milk out of them toward my chest and face.

“Do you like that? Oh you naughty boy,” she said with a mischievous smile as her milk squirted out of her hard nipples over me. “I’m a mommy now. Do you want to fuck your step mommy’s pussy? You better, because I want your hard cock so bad.”

I nodded as she moved her hips up, placing the tip of my cock on the slit of her hairy pussy. She gently moved my tip of my cock along her lips, feeling her pussy hair before pushing her hips down, sliding the head of my cock inside her.

“Ohh god…” Eunbi gasped as it entered her and she continued pushing down, taking me all inside. “Oh yes...yes. Fill me up, mommy wants all your cock!”

I pushed up as she slid down my hard thick cock, pushing my entirety into my step-mom’s love hole. Her wet pussy was swishing around my cock as she began to go up and down on me.

Eunbi was bouncing up and down, lifting her hips all the way up so just the head of my cock was inside her before pushing herself right back down to the base of my cock. Her big swollen breasts were jiggling frantically up and down as she rode me. I reached up and began massaging her breasts as she bounced, making her spray her milk.

She bent down so I could take her nipple in my mouth as she continued to push herself up and down on my hard cock. I began sucking on her nipple, enjoying the flow of her milk into my mouth.

“Oh god, yes,” Eunbi moaned as I sucked on her nipple taking her milk. “Suck out mommy’s milk while you fuck me...ohhhh, god yes.”

My cock was pumping in and out of her wet pussy and I continued to suck out her milk from her nipples.

I then slid my hands down the sides of her body to her waist as Eunbi sat upright on top of me again, bouncing up and down on my hard cock. I could feel her pussy walls loosely grasping at my cock as I pushed into her. She was moaning with her head back and hair flowing down her back. Her juices were leaking out of her pussy and down my cock to my balls, making a spot on the bed.

I could feel my cock beginning to thicken inside of her as well as my balls beginning to contract as she continued to ride me. Eunbi could feel it too as she went up and down even fast and harder.

“Oh you’re going to cum soon aren’t you?” Eunbi said breathing heavily looking down at me with a smile. “You better cum deep inside of me. Mommy needs to be full of cum, maybe you get yourself another sibling.” She said with a seductive smile.

We were both moaning as my cock continued to thicken inside her as I went hard and fast in and out her wet cunt. I began to feel her pussy contract in pleasure and I just couldn’t take it anymore.

Thrusting myself up deep inside of her, Eunbi slammed down on my cock and sat there grinding into me as I began to spasm inside of her. My cock was erupting inside of her, spraying my warm sticky cum deep into my step-mom’s pussy. Eunbi continued to grind on me causing her hanging breasts to sway back and forth as my cock still pushed my cum out and deep inside her.

“Oh god...fuck…yes...” Eunbi breathed out sharply as she felt my cum shoot deep inside her wanting pussy. “God that feels good, oh I needed this so bad. Oh Tae, you’ve made mommy feel so… so good!”

Looking up at her smiling, I reached up cupping her breasts and gently pinched her swollen nipples before massaging her breasts. Softly kneading them her nipples began to spray out more milk onto my chest. Eunbi then replaced her hands with mine as she lifted her hips up, removing my wet cock from her wet pussy. Laying down beside me, Eunbi massaged her breasts aiming her spraying milk at my chest and face. Licking my lips I took as much of her sweet milk as I could smiling.

“So love that you like this,” Eunbi said giggling at me with her milk on my face. “I need this from you more than just this once.”

“So I take it, mommy...is doing alright?” I said with a smile, emphasizing the word mommy.

She gave me a huge smile as I said that, leaning in and giving me a big warm kiss. She then pushed her hips toward me as we were lying on our sides, pressing her mound of pubic hair against my semi-limp wet cock. I pushed my hips forward rubbing against her hair as I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her passionately.

“Yes, oh yes,” Eunbi whispered breaking our embrace. “Only thing mommy would want now, is more of your cum in mommy’s already cum filled pussy,” she added with a warm smile.

Giving her a mischievous smile, I rolled her onto her back and got on top of her. Her legs spread apart instinctively as I climbed on top of her. My cock was now hard again; I teased her with it, gently rubbing the tip of it on her hairy pussy lips.

“Oh god… no teasing, just fuck me already, fill me up with that hard cock,” Eunbi breathed as she heaved her hips upwards.

Pushing my hips down, I slid my hard cock into her sopping wet pussy easily. Starting to move my hips up and down, I was pushing my hard thick cock as deep into her as I could go.

Her walls of her pussy were grasping at my cock, hugging it as tight as they could. Our juices had mixed together and were seeping out of her now, trickling out of her pussy down over her ass and to the bed, making a bit of a little puddle.

Thrusting my hard thick cock into here sopping wet hairy pussy, she was matching my motions by thrusting her hips up. God, she felt so good wrapping around my cock. I wish I could do this all day long but I knew that wasn’t going to happen plus I wasn’t going to be able to last that long this time.

Continuing to push my hard cock into her, I cupped one of her breasts in my hand and brought my head down toward it. Running my tongue around the dark swollen aureole I then grasped her hard nipple and sucked. Her milk squirted out, filling my mouth with her sweetness.

“Mmmmm!... Oh god yes,” Eunbi moaned bucking her hips up hard. “Take mommy’s milk in your mouth.... oh yes, like that...and her pussy, oh yes...push your hard cock deep into mommy’s pussy.”

I couldn’t take it much longer, my hard cock was thickening inside her as my balls were beginning to contract while I took one more suck from her nipple, tasting her sweet milk in my mouth over my tongue. She could tell I wasn’t going to last much longer as she pushed her hips up hard and wrapped her legs around my ass pulling me in.

Pressing my cock into her wet hairy loose pussy as deep as it could go, I began to let go. My cock started to convulse inside her tightening pussy walls, spraying my second warm sticky cum deep into her pussy. Bucking her hips into me, Eunbi moaned as my cock pushed out more of my cum into her warm pussy.

As we subsided, we collapsed in each other’s arms laying on our sides. Eunbi was pressing her big soft luscious breasts against my chest as she smiled at me.

“Oh Tae,” she said softly. “You’ve no idea how happy you’ve made me.”

“No?” I replied with a smile.

“You filled my pussy with so much cum, I hadn’t had any for so long and now all this...oh god it feels so good,” she whispered with a big smile as she wiggled her hips against me.

Eunbi then reached her hand between her legs, plunging two of her fingers deep into her pussy coating them in the mixture of our juices. Pulling them out she brought them up to her mouth and slowly sucked the juices off of them, savoring the taste.

Smiling back at me with her gorgeous brown eyes after she sucked off the last of our juices on her two fingers, I pushed my naked body against hers as we slowly drifted off to sleep.

[bearyfast]

Rained In - LN4

Partnering: Lando Norris x reader

Type: Fluff (kinda angst a little but not really)

Established Relationship

Summary: After being rained in on a weekend trip away from the F1 world, Lando's real feelings about the future come out by the fireplace.

Warnings: None (if I've missed any, please let me know and I'll add them!)

F1 Masterlist

“I’m sorry today didn’t work out,” Lando mumbled into your hair as you were cuddling on the couch together, you wrapped up in his strong arms, keeping you in place. “I know you wanted us to actually do something on this holiday”

Coming up to a weekend break from the Formula One season, you had convinced Lando to go on a weekend getaway to a cabin in the English countryside.

You had wanted to do a few different things; going on walks and just adventuring in the countryside that you normally didn’t get to see with all the glitz and glamour of living in Monaco and being a Formula One driver (and a Formula One drivers girlfriend).

Unfortunately for your plans, the weather decided that it would rain; and rain it did.

Since an hour before the sun even rose until what would probably be the entire night it had been constant raining and pouring.

Which leads to the current situation- you and Lando laying together on the couch, watching a DVD that Lando brought along for some reason since the internet was down and a knitted blanket draped over both of you.

“It’s alright, today worked out pretty good anyway” You spoke softly, looking up to him with a soft smile and a small giggle at the end of your words.

Earlier that day, instead of leaving in the rain, you decided that you had all the ingredients to bake a pie. Which you did- really the only issue was Lando.

You see, as you were making the base of the pie, fingers deep in dough and hands clad with flour, Lando decided he would be ‘helpful’. Well if helpful meant scaring you by coming up the back of you without making a sound and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Jumping at the sudden contact, you spun around and placed your hands (the ones that had flour and dough all over them) on Lando’s chest to push him back. This caused Lando’s shirt to get flour and dough on it and his adorable little pout to be on his face for the next hour.

Though everything worked out in the end when you found him eating half of the pie a few minutes later- before you even got a chance to cut it up to have for lunch.

“Don’t remind me” Lando groaned as he pulled you closer to him, turning you around so you laid on top of him, chest to chest.

Leaning forward, you placed a soft kiss on his lips with Lando responding almost immediately-  turning the intended soft and short kiss into an intimate and slow one. It felt as if this kiss was somehow more open and honest than any other kiss you had ever had in your year long relationship.

As Lando pulled away, he connected your forehead with something… new in his eyes. Under the light of the fireplace nearby, the embers lighting up his face and eyes in a way you hadn’t seen before.

Like he was just full of love and finally let himself show that. It made your heart swell before he even began speaking again.

“You know what my biggest fear is?” Lando asked softly but with a raw undertone in his voice, nodding slightly as the already quiet noise from the TV turned into almost blurry noises in the background. “It’s losing you”

Before you could comfort him or tell him you weren’t going away, he shook his head to silence you while he swallowed.

“What if one day something happens to me on the track? I get hurt and suddenly I can’t come home to you,” Lando spoke with emotion high in his voice, but it came out slightly muffled since he grabbed the back of your head softly to hug you and buried his own head in the crook of your neck for comfort. “Or worse, what if our long term relationship doesn’t work out? What if we have different views of the future?”

After being silent for a few moments, you wrapped your arms around him as well. “That won’t happen, Lan. Why were you thinking of this anyway? Do you think we will have different ideas for the future?”

“No, I just-” Lando stopped himself, taking a deep breath of the scent of your perfume and shampoo’s scent mixed together. “Recently I met up with a guy from high school I used to be friends with, and when he proposed to his girlfriend, she uh- she said no because I guess they weren’t on the same page about their relationship.Then, you know, of course my job”

“Oh, baby,” You cooed, pulling his head out of the crook of your neck, holding it in your hands softly. “I knew your job when I started dating you, I know the risks, and also I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page of our relationship, but if you want to be sure- just ask, baby”

Lando just looked up to you for a moment before kissing you again- a tear running down his cheek and you quickly wiped away.

“So, just to check, if I were to propose, you wouldn’t reject me?” Lando said with a small grin on his face, the love in his eyes somehow stronger than before.

“I would only say no if you did it publicly” You smiled before kissing him again.

“Expect it soon then” Lando states suddenly. “After being rained in with you here and speaking to you like this, I realised that I only want you- forever and always. I love you”

“I love you too, Lan” You whispered, matching the raw emotion in his voice, something only achieved when away from the camera’s and in the privacy of between yourselves.

[thatnonameuser]

A Wonderland Of Yanderes

World Building is here Part 2

It all started with that class.

The final class for the first week of the first semester. After all the chaos of coming to Twisted Wonderland, of being thrown into a world you don’t understand, a quiet weekend to start finding a way back is something you’ve been awaiting.

The classes here were chaotic but fun, and even interesting as a human from a world without any magic. 

Making potions that could do so many different things in Alchemy. Speaking with animals or a cat that can't talk like Grim in Animal Languages. Riding broomsticks in Phys Ed. Even the boring classes like Magical History, learning of this world full of wonder and mystery, and Arithmancy, math was boring, but it was fun to learn that it’s the same in this world. 

But out of all the classes this was the weirdest one of all. 

It was called The Art of Ensnaring Hearts. About ‘darling control and protection’. It’s a weird sounding class, but even weirder, it’s a mandatory subject for all first years, which seems weird for what sounds like an elective. Still it’s just odd, not anything too weird.

The name is nothing that you’ve seen in any fantasy book or tv show in your world. But by now, you knew weird being dropped head first into an unknown world. By now anything new and weird should have been expected, understood, brushed aside as something to accept and move on.

So here you were sitting between Ace and Deuce in the lecture, Grim fast asleep on your lap, waiting for class you knew nothing about.

“I can’t believe they’re making us take this class.” Ace complains.

“Stop complaining Ace. It’s a really important class!” Deuce objects.

Ace whined his butt off the whole way here, complaining about how stupid it was that they had to attend it. Deuce on the other hand, was incredibly enthusiastic and you are completely in the dark for what this class is even about.

Ace shrugs, “Still, my folks and brother taught me all about this stuff. It’s a waste of time.”

“Not everyone has parents or siblings who can teach them about darlings, Ace.”

“Nothing personal Juice, but this class is going to be as boring as Magical History.”

“Well, if you know so much, what exactly is this class about?” You joke and they both look at you like you’ve grown a second head. "What?" you say, now uneasy.

 “You don’t know?” Ace asks.

“What part about ‘I’m from another world’ keeps slipping your minds?” Your attempt at a joke falls flat, as they look at you in incredulity.

Deuce practically reels back in surprise, “N-No it’s just that it's so normal here. You don’t know what darlings are?”

You shake your head, “No, not really.”

A crack of a whip onto the blackboard calls your attention to Professor Crewel, "Alright pups, I have to do this every year so let's get this out of the way now. This class will provide you with any and every method, skill and technique to find, capture and control your future darlings, including evading the law in your respective homelands." Now, you're confused, why exactly is a school teaching students how to break the law?

"As you know Sage Island makes special accommodations for NRC and RSA students, all acts that may be forbidden in any of your hometowns, with the exception of Darling murder, will be pardoned and forgiven. In the case of a family investigation, the school will stage an accident so please do not butcher them beyond repair." No words or sounds slip from your lips, with you stunned silent in pure horror.

What pools in your stomach is hot dread mixed with cold fear. Just what exactly is this world? Murder can be excused here? It can be covered up, with only a slap on the wrist. You need some explanations and you need them now.

A student raises a hand, "Professor?"

"Yes, pup?"

"Why are there no darlings enrolled in Night Raven?"

"One too many murders on campus. A few too many mutts ran around unneutered and decided to draw blood." You smother your gasp a few seconds too late, as more than a third of the room turn to you, confused.

"Something wrong, pup?" Crewel raises an eyebrow at you. His eyes drill into your soul, inspecting, calculating.

"N-Nothing! I'm fine. Perfectly fine." Crewel doesn't push you on the subject, returning to his lecture.

You lean back in your seat, and the cold sweat on your body makes you shiver. Right now, you'll bite your tongue and hold back your horror.

You need to see Crowley, as soon as possible.

[misctf]

Hey, dude. My dad and I have never really clicked; he always wanted me to be more athletic, like a classic jock, which, just by looking at me, it’s pretty clear would be impossible. Right now, I'm in my junior year of college, thinking about going to med school. My dad even went to college on a scholarship to play football; he was a defensive tackle, but these days he looks way more like an offensive tackle thanks to a mix of working as a foreman at a construction company, a pretty unhealthy diet, and the crazy amount of beer he downs with his buddies. And those are the memories I have from my childhood, since by the time I was born, he was way past his prime. Normally, we steer clear of each other, but today’s my birthday, and he shows up on campus with a case of beer from some brand I’ve never seen, saying he wants to celebrate the big 2-1 of his only son the right way. I appreciated the gesture, even though I hate the stuff. But not wanting to be a buzzkil I took a sip, and now I’m not feeling well while my dad’s just sitting there, grinning at me. What the hell is going on?

You place the can of beer down and stare at your dad, only to be greeted by his shit-eating smirk. A wave of nausea washes over you and the room seems to be spinning.

“What the hell is going on?” You think.

Yeah, you and your dad didn’t get along all too well. Your interest in academics and dreams of medical school are simply foreign concepts to your brutish father. But poisoning you? No way, right? You try to stand up, stumbling a bit, only to be supported by your father’s huge arm. You turn to him, eyes half-lidded.

“Wh-what did you do?” You slur.

“Don’t worry, son.” He leads you back to your chair, “Just relax.”

You writhe as your body begins to undergo a metamorphosis. Your dad grins as you cry out and rip the clothes from your body, exposing your less than ideal physique. You stare up at him, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes as you feel each and every single one of your muscles heat up. You know this shouldn’t be possible. This flies in the face of all the biochemistry you learned. Yet, as you stare at your hand, your eyes widen in terror. Your hand begins to crack and reform, becoming larger and manlier. And you watch as the process happens to your feet. Your toes breaking through your shoes, tufts of hair on each of them, their musk filling the air. The changes seem to move up your arms and legs at equal pace, packing on muscle with each contraction. And as you cry out from the pain of your metamorphosis, you notice your voice is getting deeper.

“Dad, please...” You can’t help but realize you sound like those oafish frat bros around campus, “I... I...”

But against your will, your lips form a smirk. And you can feel your jaw shifting and changing. Your messy brown hair shortening. And worse yet, you feel a fog descend over your mind. When the last of the changes finish, your dad can’t help but grin at the sight of his new and improved son. Unaware that you are still there- just watching through the new jock’s eyes.

“Yo pops,” The words leave your mouth without any of your input, “Did I like, win the lottery or somethin’ bro?” God you hate the sound of your new voice. It’s the voice of a stereotypical douchebag. Dumb, low, and dripping with an irritating smugness.

“Something like that.” He slaps your muscular back and grins, “Fuck, Jim was right. This shit works wonders.” He stares down at your beer, “So son...” He chuckles when he notices you’re completely focused on the football game on the TV.

“Fuck, I need a beer.” You feel your muscular arm reach towards your beer. A wave of panic washes over you, but your dad stops you.

“Woah, easy there.” He chuckles, “If just a sip did this to you, I can’t imagine the full bottle.” At least your dad had some common sense, you think.

For the rest of the day, you were forced to watch as a passenger in your new body. You tossed the ol’ pigskin with your dad, rated the sorority girls that walked by, and lifted some weights at the school’s gym. Your dad seemed thrilled with the new you. But as a passenger- you hated all of it. The way this body felt, the way it smelled, and especially the sound of your voice.

Your dad left later that day, leaving you trapped. But as the days pass, you start recognizing a few things. The jock that now occupies and controls your day-to-day life seems to be into two things: working-out and jerking off. And you realize that while you might not have complete control, you can at least influence the jock- and enjoy his jerk-off sessions. But you serve as his conscious. As long as you don’t interfere with his work-outs or pleasure sessions, you’re able to push him to go to class. And even though your grades are slipping, you’re at least able to prevent most of the damage.

When the semester ends, you dread your return home. Your dad is already talking about all the shit you’re going to do together. Hunting, camping- fuck, he even got you a job at his construction site. The jock in control just grins and fist bumps your dad, excited to spend time with his ol’ man. But you have to study for the medical school entrance exams. And you’re not going to let this stop you. Unfortunately, you couldn’t even begin to realize how much that stressed the stupid jock.

“Fuck!” He bellows, dropping his weights, “No, I don’t wanna fuckin’ study.” He groans, “Leave me the fuck alone, bro.” He grips his head, “I just wanna get big and fuck, alright?”

He never lashed out like this before. And part of you is worried he might do something stupid. Naturally, he does. He opens the basement fridge’s door, looking for his post-workout shake. But he grins when he sees an all too familiar case of beer. He grabs a bottle and inspects it closely.

“Aight brah, if this shit got me lookin’ like this,” He flexes his sweaty bicep, “a little more won’t hurt. Maybe this’ll shut you up.” You’re screaming for him to stop. But he flicks the cap off, “Cheers, bro.” He downs the bottle in only a few seconds, his belch filling the room.

“No, no, no...” You’re panicking now, waiting for the worst.

“See, not all that baaaaaaaaahhhhh.” The jock groans as his muscles begin to heat up.

But this time feels different to you. Not particularly the physical sensations in your muscles. But by the pressure in your head. It’s stronger. Almost like it’s enveloping the last remnants of you in a fog. You watch in the mirror through the jock’s eyes as your face takes on a more simian look. And you can hear his voice getting deeper. The words fragmenting and making less sense.

“Me bigger. It hurt!” The jock grunts, drool dripping from his mouth.

Your pecs explode with muscle, becoming two giant slabs of meat. Your arms are packing on an equally ridiculous amount of muscle, and you realize you can barely turn your head anymore from all the added muscle to your frame. The lean muscle of the handsome jock is growing- becoming that of a bodybuilder on steroids. Hair erupts across your previously clean shaven chest and abdomen, and a beard shapes your increasingly more simian face. Your forehead juts out, jaw becoming larger, and drool dripping from the corner of your mouth.

“Wait, no!” You beg as you feel something pulling you from deep within your mind. Dragging you into the fog of your new caveman-like existence.

Your dreams, desires, and pride in your academics are all being drowned suffocated in a musky, lust-filled fog that floods your mind. The only thoughts that occupy your smaller brain include lifting, flexing, and jerking off. There’s no remnant of your mind left to prevent you from engaging in your primal desires. And as your mind is molded to fully match the new you, you start to laugh. Dull, dumb, and absolutely devoid of any higher-thinking. It fills the room around you. And you collapse, hand pumping your cock- sweat pouring from your musky, hairy musculature.

When your dad comes downstairs later, he’s shocked by what he sees. Gone was the perfect jock son he created. In his place is this brutish, massive, and hairy ape of a man.

“Son?” He whimpers.

You look over at your dad and grin, “Drink good.”

And as you continue to lift your weights, your dad just stares at the empty bottle on the ground. Now realizing he should’ve just thrown the damn things out.

_______________

Please feel free to send me ideas/requests via my Inbox. Still working on a few but I've enjoyed everyone's ideas so far!