#i just sit there like i’m supposed to just move on from that????? i’m supposed to read ahead and watch bingqiu fuck

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 8

content warning: fluff, a little bit of hurt/comfort, some mentions of food, 18+ so MDNI, thigh riding 😙, thigh fucking 🤪, public indecency??? exhibitionism???, katoptronophilia aka mirror sexy time (thanks for the word jelly 🪼), just overall a really good time

word count: 4.4k, not proofread (we're only gearing up to what I assume will be another giant chapter 😷)

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GymRat!Miguel who does some sets of push-ups, sit-ups, and leg raises in place of the gym. You watch him while you wait for room service, encouraging him from the side. Your presence was especially needed during the sit-ups when you sit at his feet, holding them down and giving him kisses when sits up.

GymRat!Miguel who sings loudly in the shower after his workout. You have to answer the door with an apology as the server laughs at Miguel belting out Britany Spears.

GymRat!Miguel who finally decides to respond to his texts. He’s had enough time to cool off and your presence was like a calm breeze, kissing away at his skin.

He discards his empty plate, placing it back on the cart. You’re still chewing away at some fluffy pancakes, enjoying the views of the high-rise hotel as the default channel played soft jazz.

GymRat!Miguel who lays in your lap while you eat some fruit. He has his phone in his hands ready to type, but he opens his mouth, silently begging for you to feed him grapes and pineapple chunks.

He hums to himself happily when you comply, combing a hand through his hair. He felt so peaceful like this. Serene.

GymRat!Miguel who sighs as he opens the message app. Here we go.

Abuela 💕:

“Abuela I’ll call you tonight”

“And there will be no babies. Not now”

“There better not be!”

Pa:

“Gracias pa”

“I’m glad you were able to meet her”

“She means a lot to me”

“I can tell”

“Mijo you pack a big punch!”

“Uno más!!!”

“You got that from me 👍🏽”

“Sure did pa 😭”

Gabri 🤡🤏🏽:

“You’re such an instigator”

“It’s not instigating. It’s reporting 😌”

“‘It’s reporting ☝🏽🥸’”

“Shaddap”

“You think I’m letting a member of the robotics team bully me?”

“You have perfect pitch and play the saxophone”

“You’re not winning this battle”

“Aren’t you supposed to be entertaining my girl? 🤨”

“Direct this clown act to her”

“Not sure how she puts up with it but I’ll free her soon”

“Stfu”

“A real man would be doing OTHER things but I digress”

“Did you really have to send a pic”

“You hate me”

“It’s clear to me now”

“Anyway what’s this about Tyler punching things”

“OHHHHH”

“He got him good”

“Square in the face”

“A bloody mouth to match his nose”

“TWINEM”

“Good”

"Pa said he granted me the ability to punch"

“He can dream on about that”

“Because where tf is my strength 😒”

"He punched Tyler before"

"Your time will be soon"

"😕"

"Also Ik about Nancy cheating already"

"Tyler told me in high school"

"I didn't want to be the one to tell Kron"

"Ur better than me"

"I would have told him that after that punch"

"YOUR MOM IS A HOMEWRECKER!"

"That's not what that means but ok"

Dana:

“Does your bf know you’re lusting after others?”

“Not if you don’t tell 😙”

“….I don’t think I want to give you her number”

“You’re perfect for Gabri”

“You’re both unbearable”

“What’s unbearable is I’m not talking to your gf rn”

“It’s too many O’Haras”

“Too much testosterone”

“SAVE ME MIG’S GF”

“MIG’S GF SAVE ME!!!”

Dad….Tyler:

“It’s ok. For what it’s worth, I can tell that you had good intentions.”

“Gabri told me what happened”

“I apologize for acting out of order and punching your son, but I couldn’t let him disrespect my girlfriend and my mom. No matter how difficult she may be, I’m the one who should tell her about it. Not him.”

"I completely understand that. You did what you thought was right, and that's far more admirable than what Kron did."

"In another reality, you and Kron could get along. For now, I will aim for cordial. I will make sure that he apologizes to you, your girlfriend, and Conchata."

"I don't want an apology if it's not genuine."

"Let's move on from that. You said you wanted to make it up to me? I saw that you added more dates to the hotel. Thank you for that, you didn't have to."

"Yes! If you are willing, I would love for you and your girlfriend to meet with me. I actually arranged something for you, Gabriel, and your girlfriends. I want to hear your input before I finalize the details."

"Sure thing. Is this afternoon ok?"

"That's perfect. I'll see you then."

Ma:

Read: 11:10 AM ✓✓

“Ugh,” Miguel groans, shutting his phone off and closing his eyes.

You stop rubbing his hair and look down, “What’s wrong?”

Miguel grunts as he moves your hand to continue, “My mom wants me to come home. Not sure if I want to do that right now. Not unless I know she’s ready to be accountable for once, which I highly doubt.”

You hum in understanding, “She’s still your mom, though. You’ll have to see her eventually.”

“My mom or not, she had no right to talk to you the way she did,” Miguel said reaching his hand up to your face. “It was cruel and…strange coming towards you. She doesn’t know you. Not yet, anyway.”

It’s not like she was trying to know you, either. Miguel seemed to understand this in your silence.

“I have to go grab some clothes so she might just get her wish,” Miguel says, turning his head towards your stomach.

You look down at him, “You don’t have to. Today is my last day here.”

“Well, lucky for us, Tyler extended the stay for a few more days,” he grinned. He started to move your shirt to fondle your skin.

Your stomach twitched as his breath brushed your skin. He started to kiss along your front, head disappearing under your sweater. He hummed as he started to tug at your underwear with his teeth.

“Hey,” you say, watching his head moving around through the material. “Stop that and finish talking.”

You pulled your sweater up to reveal him, his teeth still holding the band of your panties and eyes like a cat that got caught.

He let the band go close to your stomach so it wouldn’t snap, “This visual is making me forget everything.” His eyes are heavy and wandering.

You look to where he’s looking to see that you’re essentially flashing him.

You drop your shirt in embarrassment, letting out a sound of panic.

“No, no, baby let me see.”

“No, you’re at such a weird angle.”

“All art must be viewed up close and personal.”

Miguel sat up from your lap. He watched as you huffed and pinched the neckline of your sweater, moving it for air.

"You're so confident from afar, but when I'm near you like this, you get so shy. Even in public, you can be so bold. It's just you and me here."

"It's just," you watch Miguel as he crowds your space. His mouth goes behind your ear to press his lips into your skin. "I don't know. It feels like...more when it's just us. More real."

"Does it not feel real when we're in public?"

Miguel sits back, eyes wondering to yours. There's a pinch in his eyebrows, so faint you almost miss it.

"It does! That's not what I mean."

"Then, what is it? Tell me. Talk to me."

"I want to do more with you."

"But?" Miguel holds your hands in his, stopping you from picking at the loose threads of the sweater. He rubs them with his thumbs, itching to pull you closer.

"But, when you look at me like that, I feel like I could pass out. I get overwhelmed and nervous. I don't want to say or do anything stupid. It gets harder to control myself. I feel crazy."

Oh.

Oh.

"Then there are moments when my brain fools me into thinking that you don't like me in the way that I like you. Moments when that girl from not so long ago comes back, ashamed of herself and her body. A small part of me that thinks you could date anyone else and you're settling."

Miguel takes a moment to process your words.

He takes a breath, then opens his mouth.

"You really don't understand how much you affect me, do you?"

Miguel pulled you in his lap, fed up with this charade.

You grip his shoulders, steadying your balance with how fast he grabbed you.

"Miguel-"

"I don't know everything that your last boyfriend did to you and I don't know everything that you've experienced because of your body. Baby, I don't even know what you've seen all this time to make you think you're not worthy of love and respect, but I'm here to squash it."

"I meant it when I said that I love you. I'll learn it in a hundred languages just to remind you. I'll even tattoo it on my forehead for you to be reminded of it every single time you see me."

"I don't think you need to go that far," you say, eyes warm.

"No, I think I should. Anything for you to understand me. Anything for you to see you like how I see you."

"Letting out my deepest darkest secrets here, but do you know what I did when we first met?"

You shake your head, curious.

"I had a dream about you that was so good, I fell out of my bed. Peter never lets me live it down."

"A sweet dream?"

"Now, you and I both know it was more than that. Two cold showers should answer your questions."

You hide your face in his neck, heartbeat drumming through you, "Did you really?"

"Hand to heart. I understand your feelings. I acknowledge them too, but I need you to understand mine as well. Trust me when I say that you are unbelievably sexy. I love you and your body. My eyes caught your appearance before I came to know your personality. Anybody would be lucky to have you, but I'm the luckiest because you chose me."

Miguel hugged you close and kissed your head.

"Now let's rewind. You said you feel crazy when you're close to me?"

You groan in his neck.

"Uncontrollable? Heated?"

"Miggy, stop."

"My girlfriend is head over heels for me," Miguel hummed as he rubbed his hands down your naked legs. "She wants to ruin me."

"No, I don't."

"She's still wearing my clothes with nothing underneath but her panties and is leaning all over me. Her thighs are around my waist and she just told me that she wants me."

"You put me here," you lean up and stare at him. Your cheeks were hot and your eyes were dewey.

"She's looking at me like she's upset, but now I know that her heart is going crazy. I want to kiss her."

"Then do it," you whisper.

The kiss is sweet, the taste of fruit and syrup still on your lips. You finally relax in his arms, body melted against his. His hands slip under your sweater, dancing over your back. Your skin is soft and warm, a blanket over Miguel's figure.

The time where you two connect extends deeper and longer. You let your hands venture further than the nape of his neck, roaming until you brush across his chest. Miguel's breath hitched as your nails raked his nipple, chest jumping at the impact.

You break for a second, wanting to get air, but Miguel leans back in, desperate. He's whining, groping your body all over. His noises go straight to your core, twitching above him. He matches your pace, dragging your hips across his, reveling in how fast your body was reacting to him.

When he leans back, there's a string of saliva connecting you two. He's breathing hard as he watches you.

"Can I take this off? Please," Miguel grips the bottom of your sweater, eyes pleading.

You bite your lip and slide the sweater over your head, dropping it to the bed. You bring your hands over the top of your chest, arms framing your breasts.

You can't look Miguel in the eyes, too shy, "Is this fine?"

Miguel's eyes almost turn as he watches you, so shy but so seductive. He reaches out to cup your breasts in his hands, groaning when they plush through his fingers.

"You're so," Miguel rubs his thumbs across your nipples, enjoying you twitching and gasping in his hold. "Fuck."

His gaze burned into you, hungry as you lapped his tongue around your nipples. You let out a whimper when you feel him pull your skin in, mouth hot. It doesn't beat his pleased hum, voice like a man finally getting relief.

He massages your vacant breast, movements getting harsher. His grip is like a vice making it harder for you to second-guess yourself.

You hiss and rake your hands through his hair, "B-baby, be careful."

"Lo siento, mi amor," Miguel says, kissing across your areolas. "'M sorry."

You find your breath, fighting to steady your voice, "You're on me like we didn't just do something earlier."

Miguel paused and placed his cheek on your chest, "Baby, I'm a virgin and a man, not a prude. With practice, I could go all day."

The thought of that has you tightening your legs around him, hips stuttering. Miguel shifts to pull you over his left thigh.

"Does that excite you, baby?" Miguel smirks.

You close your eyes and nod, hips rolling over his thigh, keening high as he hikes his thigh closer to your sex and grips your waist. His muscles feel so good against you, the sounds getting wetter and wetter with each swipe.

"God, you're so pretty like this," Miguel sighs. "My gorgeous girl."

Your movements are becoming more frantic, Migiuel's voice in your ears spurring you on. He was sucking into your neck, growling as you scratched against his shoulder blades.

"That's right, baby. Keep going. Use me to get off," Miguel helped your hips keep a steady pace, pulling at your briefs to a makeshift thong. The tightness of your underwear combined with his thigh and his voice sends you into overdrive.

"Miguel!" you sob, hands gripping his hair. Your body trembles as you squeeze your thighs around him, cunt pulsating around nothing but your underwear, release leaking onto his leg.

Miguel cooed as you dropped your weight against him, body limp and hips fluttering with aftershocks. You panted as you kept your head on his shoulder, willing yourself to calm down.

"Are you ok?" Miguel asks, kissing your temple, your ear, your cheek. He feels you nod into his skin, blissed out.

"I like how you called me the needy one and you're the one who came three times today," Miguel mumbled, laughing as you swatted at his pec.

"I already confessed what you do to me. This shouldn't be shocking."

"Didn't say that. 'M just happy you feel more comfortable around me. It's what I want." One last kiss to your face seals his joy.

You lift up on shaky knees, hands holding onto Miguel for dear life. Your thighs were still shaking and your underwear was ruined. Miguel's cock twitched at the essence that seeped onto his leg, watching as sticky lines dragged from his skin to yours.

He grabbed you by the waist with one hand and wiped at your slick with another.

He's about to swipe at it with his tongue until you stop him.

"Miguel! Don't do that," you say, flustered.

"What? I'm just enjoying the fruits of my labor," he pouts as you grab some napkins and clean off his hands and thigh.

"So close to eating you, yet so far," he sighs miserably. "One day."

You ignore him and look down at his erection, taking a knuckle and lining the side. It was your first time really paying attention to him down there, now that you weren't distracted by his advances.

"What about you?"

He twitched as you walked along his clothed shaft, pre-come leaking through the fabric.

"As much as I want you to continue, we have to get ready for today," Miguel jerks as you continue your ministrations with a pout on your face. "And, I need condoms if you want to take this any further."

"Not even a blowjob?" you peer at him with your deer eyes again.

Miguel took a deep breath, "I was right. You are trying to ruin me."

GymRat!Miguel who lets you know that Tyler wants to meet you both after you both have changed clothes for the day. Something about a surprise.

"I love surprises!" you say turning to Miguel with a smile on your face. "As long as it's nothing like last night. I think it'll be ok."

Miguel matches your smile and presses his lips to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who stops at his home briefly, trying to get in and get out. He manages to fill up his travel bag, drop off his laundry, and give Gabriel a heart attack all before his mom notices he's there.

"Where are you going?" Gabriel asks with his hand over his heart, headphones lopsided around his neck.

"None of your business, nosy."

"Uh, it kind of is my business. You think you're grown when you're really not."

Miguel rolls his eyes. He didn't really want to tell Gabriel, but sometimes he couldn't say no to him.

"We're going out to see Tyler. He has a surprise for us. He also said he arranged something for us including you and Dana."

"Oh shit! Ok. And if mom asks where you are?"

"Tell her I'll come by tomorrow. I'm spending the next few days with my girlfriend."

"Alrighty," Gabriel sing-songs, placing his headphones back on his head. "You kids be safe. Don't scare my girl away."

Miguel smacks Gabriel across the head and runs out the door before he can catch up.

GymRat!Miguel who just laughs at your face while you frantically unlock the car to let him in.

"Baby, what's wrong?" you ask, voice in a panic.

"A string bean is trying to attack me," he responds, giggling as Gabriel runs out of the house.

"I'm getting you back for that you oaf!" Gabriel yells as Miguel backs out of the driveway. He stops his anger to wave at you, which you return with a sweet smile.

"Baby, you're encouraging him."

GymRat!Miguel who guides you through the doors of a cafe that Tyler recommended. He sticks out like a sore thumb with his stark white hair and light clothing. The only semblance of color on him was his silver jewelry.

He sat there, typing away at his phone, oblivious to the people around him who found familiarity in his form.

"Dad," Miguel said, the word funny on his tongue. He tried to make an effort to refer to him as his father in public, something Tyler appreciated greatly.

"Son!" he got up and engulfed him in a hug, giving you a softer version afterward. "It's good to see you both."

"It's lovely to see you again as well, Mr. Stone," you say, giving Miguel a smile when he pulls your chair out for you. "Thank you so much for thinking of us after all that's happened. Thank you for paying for my stay as well, the hotel is very lovely."

"Anything for Miguel's loved ones," he smiles in a way that has a hint of Miguel. You feel better going into the rest of this meal.

GymRat!Miguel who almost chokes on his coffee before Tyler can finish his sentence.

"A yacht?!"

"Is it too much? I can do something else to your liking," Tyler frets, wiping his hands on his slacks. "I'm not sure what all kids your age like nowadays."

"I've never been on a yacht. so I don't even know how to react," Miguel responds.

The two of them are sporting the same deer-in-headlights look.

"I'm sure it would be a great experience for all of us. If everyone doesn't mind, I'm sure we can get together and have a great time," you say, helping the two of them out. "Something nice to start the summer off."

"That's great! I will have everything ready by the beginning of next month then," Tyler says, mood lifting immediately. He was a lot like a golden retriever. "With that in order, I'd like to grant you this."

He takes his wallet out, reaching in to grab a card.

As he slides it across the table, your eyes grow big.

It's a black card with T. Stone pressed across the bottom.

"What's this for?" Miguel asks, staring at the card with building curiosity.

"You all need clothes for the trip, don't you?" Tyler asks. "And I'm sure you need more clothes to wear this week. Please take this, I don't mind. I trust you not to go overboard. I'll let you know when to give it back."

Miguel took the card in his hands, the weight of it heavier than any of his own.

"I guess it's time for a shopping spree," Miguel said, a smile growing on his face.

GymRat!Miguel who drives you straight to the mall. The windows are down as you both laugh and sing to the song on the radio. Miguel wishes he could record this moment, but for now, he dials it back to replay in his memory.

GymRat!Miguel who is happy to carry your bags and encourages you to buy more. Whenever you start to feel like you've gone overboard, he just whispers "black card" in your ear like a devil on your shoulder.

GymRat!Miguel who convinces you to walk around the name-brand stores. He did have Tyler's card, but he was also thoroughly watching what you gravitated towards. He locked away so many gift ideas for later.

GymRat!Miguel who joins you in the mirror of a shades shop. The both of you take pictures with coordinating glasses and you giggle as Miguel makes silly faces in some of them.

GymRat!Miguel who becomes your doll as you pick out outfits for him. He's smiling down at you as you put different shirts up to his body, mumbling to yourself as you make decisions. So pretty.

GymRat!Miguel who waits while you try on some clothes, giddy whenever you show him a new outfit. You managed to find clothes that coordinated with his and you're super excited about it.

"Close your eyes!" you yell through the door.

He does so and listens for you to walk out. After you take a while, he opens his eyes a little.

"Baby, no peeking," you chastise.

He huffs and waits a little longer.

"Ok. 1, 2, 3, open!"

His eyes land on you in a dress that hugs your curves like no other. Your chest fills out the top perfectly and seeing your stomach through the front is driving him mad.

"Do you like it?" you turned around, giving Miguel a grand view of how your ass was sitting in the dress.

"Do the dressing rooms have a time limit?"

You blink at him owlishly, "No? Why?"

GymRat!Miguel who drags all of your bags and you back inside of the dressing room with lightning speed. As soon as he locks the door, he's attached to your lips, kneading at your ass and hips.

You gasp in his mouth, shocked at how fast he's moving.

"Miguel, what- oh," you sigh as he leans down and pulls your dress up, face buried in your neck.

"You look so good, mi amor. I can't help it."

GymRat!Miguel who almost cums when you pull his dick out. Your eyes grow along with his erection, watching as he twitches in your hold. You've never taken anyone this big and from your hesitance, Miguel can gather this much.

"We don't have to do anything. In fact, you don't have to do that here," he pants.

"You mean take you down my throat?" you ask, running your thumb over his head, watching in awe as liquid seeped out. Miguel bit his hand to quiet his moans. "I'll wait until we're somewhere more private and less noticeable that I'm on my knees for you."

Miguel looks at the open space under the dressing room door, "Yeah that's probably for the best."

GymRat!Miguel who places you in front of him, both of you facing the mirror. Your dress is bunched up and Miguel is rocking his cock in between your thighs.

He's bent down, biting lightly on your shoulder so that he doesn't shout. Your thighs were so warm and plush against him and his pre-cum was spewing out of him like a fountain.

"You feel so fucking good, baby," he moans a little too loud after a few minutes.

GymRat!Miguel who watches you in the mirror. Your tits were so close to slipping from the top of your dress, the impact from his hips jerking your entire body. He grabbed at both of them, watching as you moan at the contact. His slaps got louder and louder, milky fluid running down your legs.

GymRat!Miguel who is overcome with need when you turn and run your tongue across his earlobe. He convulses as his release spurts across the room, landing on the mirror. He grips your hips and breathes hard into your skin, the tempo of his heart moving quick.

You pat his head and praise him, heavy eyes following your hand as you rub his tip that's still rubbing through your thighs. He whines, sensitive, but not moving away from you.

GymRat!Miguel who wipes you down carefully with some wipes you have in your purse. Luckily you both haven't ruined yet another pair of underwear.

He kisses you softly when he finishes, little confessions of love traveling from his lips to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who checks the dressing room one last time, making sure he's gotten any evidence of his removed from the area. Your green dress is in his arms and you've changed back to your outfit.

The area is clean, but there are fresh hickeys on your neck, something he got carried away with.

GymRat!Miguel who walks out like nothing happened. You on the other hand, hand over some extra clothes you didn't like to a worker in slight embarrassment. He eyes you both with a look of horror.

GymRat!Miguel who feeds you Auntie Anne's in the crowded food court. You hum happily after each bite. He dusts cinnamon off the corner of your lips with a smile.

GymRat!Miguel who moves from dusting to leaning across the table to lick the crumbs off when a table full of guys keeps eying you.

"What was that for?" you asked, oblivious to the hound dogs around you.

"Nothing. I just love you, baby."

dividers by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: I got a very useful lesson on condoms and BJs while writing this chapter. It won't ever be applied to this fic, BUT it was still kinda fun nonetheless.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! Leave a like, a reblog, and COMMENTS if you did!!! 🩵

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[yuquinzel]

— nobody’s business.

feat. itoshi sae. a little sensual. 700+ wc. self indulgent :> publicizing your relationship with japan’s star player.

itoshi sae is holding onto your hand, a little more firmly than ever before. teal eyes out ahead on the field in front of you both searching for something you can’t name. you follow his gaze— it’s on the bleachers first, then hastily eyeing every player on the pitch. it’s on the spectators one second, then it’s on the cameras panning and zooming in from every direction.

sae grimaces when one such camera directs at the two of you, pulling you behind and away from the prying eyes of the media eager to catch just a glimpse of japan’s prized player and his partner who he keeps oh so hidden from the world.

he’s never denied being in a relationship. never tried to refute dating allegations with a non-celebrity, never once fazed to address the blurred pictures of him making out with someone in his car, never tried to hide the bruises on his neck that catch the eye of every fan leaving nobody wondering what it really is. he knows what they’ll do once they really know who you are— the paparazzi wouldn’t fucking leave you alone, following you everywhere. magazines would be willing to kill to get just one word from you and twist it to their likings. sae’s discreet with his words though, never gives them something to work with.

it was not until you addressed it to him yourself. just another article surfacing all around social media. something that had left a bitter taste on your tongue. ‘ itoshi sae and his supposed girlfriend ! ’ — it’s a picture of sae with a model you don’t know the name of, attending an event you weren’t invited to. he looks clearly unimpressed. but it helps little when every single comment under the article is how of well the two look together.

how well itoshi sae looks with someone who’s not you.

“you’ve already denied the rumours, so then why...” you’d said, avoiding his gaze for reasons you can’t pinpoint. “they always make up shit to write when their lukewarm ass doesn’t have real shit to sell.” he’d answered, “don’t think much about it. they’ll forget about it soon.”

when you didn’t say anything back, sae had known what he was to do. he’d known what it was you were asking of him with your silence. and for you, he was more than willing.

he’s sure a few cameras would’ve captured him with you by now, your face clear and beautiful for everyone to see and engrave on their papers and headlines. they’ll adorn you with pretty words and pretty adjectives, and he’ll have to share you with the eyes of the world now. something about it leaves a bitter flavor on his tongue, so he kisses you instead to taste the sweetness of your lips.

“don’t take your eyes off me,” he rasps between the kisses, one hand coming to cradle your jaw while the other hooks around your waist. “look at only me.”

“only you.” you say and sae breathes you in. he leans down closer, lips moving against yours more desperately than ever. he’s pleased with your answer. phantom touches of his hands slithering under your shirt and tracing the skin of your abdomen.

you forget about the match about to start in a mere minutes, about the cameras still desperate to get one glimpse of this very scene, and if you do remember that his teammates would march out any second now— sae makes you forget about everyone else when he tugs on your bottom lip lightly, “afraid? ” he challenges you with a long, languid glide of his tongue, “of what? I’m the only thing on your mind. ”

later when the game ends with the final pass from sae leading to a goal, the camera pans to you sitting in the vip section and cheering for sae and his team. another pans to sae when he notices you on the screen. sae ignores the roars of the crowd, ignores his teammates gathering around him, screaming for their win. he looks at you, waiting intently. you know what he’s asking of you — did you watch? he shifts forward ever so slightly — was i good?

you’re smiling as you mouth a clear I’m so proud of you — and only then does sae feels like he’s won.

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

why am I posting this it's a year old 🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️

#❀˖° ─ hana writes. #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae fluff #sae x reader #sae x you #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader fluff #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x you #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk fluff

[yauchfilms]

anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)

pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)

warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), one use of y/n, soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy

summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!

it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment. 

obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation. 

it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?” 

you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked. 

you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing. 

“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.

“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.

“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it. 

another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.

walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family. 

“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables. 

“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”

“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,”  mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.

upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.

“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression. 

“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt. 

“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.

logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.

“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”

“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror. 

“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area. 

“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.

“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you.  “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam. 

and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right. 

you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him. 

“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy. 

“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment. 

“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin. 

“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin. 

“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it. 

“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it. 

“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.

he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you. 

“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.

“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.

“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise. 

“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you. 

you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle. 

“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back. 

“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him. 

logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you. 

“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.

“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful. 

between your fits of giggles, you let out a “mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye. 

his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.

“so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.  

all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek. 

he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him. 

“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery. 

his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass. 

“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you. 

“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long. 

his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.

“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor. 

“i thought you said we weren’t–” 

“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.

“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch. 

“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast. 

you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.

“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest. 

“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were. 

“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later. 

“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.

“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point. 

“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.

this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.

leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”

the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it. 

“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.

with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds. 

“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means. 

“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly. 

“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.

you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.

“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers. 

his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you. 

“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers. 

your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband. 

logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.

“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way. 

you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel. 

he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready. 

“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue. 

he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach. 

“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth. 

“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.

“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.

“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come. 

with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you. 

“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.

you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you. 

You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.

“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides. 

you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm. 

“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”

“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks. 

“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen. 

“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

#logan sargeant smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader

[myszie]

I think your Tutor likes being called a Good Boy

Sub!Matt x reader

Trigger warning - Smut, Dom/Sub dynamics, Throat play, major Corruption kink, maybe Dub!con, degradation.

MDNI

First time writing smut, constructive criticism please!!!

Matt fidgets with his pencil, hands roughly bundled in his lap, You’re supposed to carry over the power” he mumbles, his words terse. I look up at the boy sitting across from me in the prickling sweltering heat of the school library, “Matttt I swear you’re writing in another language at this point” I murmur exasperated, lips drawn into an exaggerated pout.

Matt shifts in his seat - red flush coating his porcelain skin, as he reaches over to correct my mistake. “It’s not hard, you’re just not doing it properly” he adds attempting to joke and look away from my face, and the way my skin shimmers in the heat….so mundane yet so provocative. “You whore, why must you attack me like that” I laugh back tugging at my thin tee so it it doesn’t stick to my body. Not hearing a reaction, and worrying I pushed too far, I lean into Matt only to see him squirming in his lap as diverts his gaze from the dip of my collarbone.

“You don’t look so good Matty….its too hot in here…wanna study in my car?” I offer cooing at the boy as I help him gather his things, perfectly disguising the ways my hands linger as I help him put stuff in his bag.

The boy shuffles behind me, his hands firmly plastered to the front of his body…the heat, your lips and the ways your words were just on the precipice of his desire. Watching Matt struggle ever so much under my gaze, the battle behind clinging to his perfect image is downright tempting. Like a white canvas begging for colour, begging to be ruined.

“Does that feel better?” I murmur, softly rubbing his thighs, to comfort him of course and not anything else. The hitch in his breath is loud and clear within the silence of the car, but I’m more than happy to indulge in this game of cat and mouse a bit longer. “The heat was really getting you huh?” I coo again, this time pressing a cold beer near his jugular. “Mhm this should help the flush” I say smirking slightly as I hover over the boy, but seeing his blush darken and eyes look wide and dazed…my temptation peels and I can’t help but dip the bottle lower…near his chest.

Matt gasps biting his lips, “Yea that feels…better” he manages to force out even though the ice did nothing to calm the raging hard on he was packing. He was too far gone at this point, he needed you to keep touching him. “I think I know what will feel really good though Matty, what hill help ……this” I whisper in his ears as I drag the cold beer bottle close to his navel. Matts eyes widens and before he can process what you’re proposing, I pull my hands back and settle in my chair acting nonchalant. “Feel better Matty?” I lilt, stressing the syllable. Matt eyes turn to mine, completely wide and his chest heaves as his brain tries to cope with the fact that he hadn’t just imagined your hands near his cock.

I stare back at him, a challenge and invitation clear in my eyes, “No…need help” he finally murmurs out his words stressed and broken. “Mhm you were quite rude you know, you should ask me nicely” I rasp as I let my hands and nails ghost over the skin of his thigh. Matt hands ball in his laps as his body shakes under my touch, “please help me…please” he finally manages and I smile my touch getting bolder as it palms the bulge in his pants. “Help you do what bunny?” I say smirking, having fun while breaking down matts composure. “Touch me please” Matt moans his hips rising up as they grind up into my hands.

Smirking I’m immediately on him, straddling his heaving frame in the small car. My red manicured hands grasp both sides of his face, as I look into his eyes….”You thought you were being subtle huh, palming your dick in the library like a slut” I rasp roughly kissing his perfectly pouty laps. Matt all but whimpers as his hips ground up to mine, moving desperately for friction. I squeeze his mouth, “Open” and spit in his mouth as he spreads open his mouth, “god such a desperate slut, now swallow” I say licking a line of sweat down the side of his neck. I’m well aware of the fact by this point he’s practically humping me, but I let him…he was too pure yet to ruin completely and besides I didn’t wanna reveal all my cards.

“You desperate boy, I thought you needed me to touch you, but here you’re more than happy humping me like a Rabid bunny in heat….fuck perfect Matt is such a little slut…doing all this when anyone can see the fucked out look on your face” I tease my hands grasping his throat as I too grind down on him. Matt tries to answer, his words muffled in moans and I laugh, “You don’t gave permission to speak doll” I say biting his lips.

Matt is all but reduced to to heap of grunts and moans, his hips chasing the rhythm of mine. Feeling himself get closer, he can’t help but moan out, “Fuck feels so good” as he cums in his pants against the heat of my centre. I ride him through his orgasm drawing out the sensitivity, until I address him with a hard glare.

“I said you’re not allowed to speak doll”

Y’all want part 2? I’m not sure?

Tag list

@chr1sgirl4life @sturniolos-bae @sturnsfave @somegirlfromasgard @solarsturniolo @vecnasnose0 @ev3rgreenxtrees @sleepysturnss @namelesssaviour @lov3burns @tillies33ssss @sturnpooks @ladyvenera @malirosee @sluttformatt @yo123itsme @hypnotizedsturn @stellarsturns @lolasturniolo @namelesssav

#matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

[luvring]

sitting on the grass, thinking of kissing you

timeskip iwaizumi x gn!reader | 1.3k words of casual conversation on the front yard of some unexplained party, and implied feelings with no resolution! :3

“what’re you doing out here?”

a breeze is the first to welcome you when you step outside, leaving goosebump trails down your back and arms. somewhere behind you, someone cheers at a song change, and the bass rumbles beneath your half-on shoe as you let the old screen door squeak and bounce shut.

hajime doesn’t look up from his spot next to the driveway. he only downs more of his drink and swirls the can in his right hand, bracelet on his wrist falling to his watch. “sitting. drinking.”

“mm, very eventful.” you awkwardly shuffle so your shoe fits over your heel, and he moves to spread his jacket beneath him, making space so you can avoid the wet grass.

it's quieter outside—the crowded singing and laughter of the house party muffled. it's easier to focus on the wind whistling through branches or sparse traffic that passes through the neighbourhood.

you look to the other side of the cul-de-sac, where hajime’s gaze seems to bore a hole in the trees. “think you missed ‘staring off into the dark abyss’ on your list?”

hajime hums. “it’s at least a dimly lit abyss.”

rolling your eyes with a snort, you find your place beside him. “whatever.”

the sun has fallen well below the horizon, dark sky showing no signs of the earlier pink-purple sunset. yet it's barely colder than it was this morning, and you haven't been in school in ages, but nostalgia trickles into your veins at the feeling of summer starting again. even now, you can spot a hare making its way down the sidewalk, and you smile.

hajime lifts his drink to his lips again, and you watch his adam’s apple bob as he tilts his head back. a drop rests at the corner of his lips when he’s done. you prod, “is there a reason you’re staring into the dimly lit abyss?”

he taps the side of the can. “just thinking.”

“about?”

“nothing.”

“nothing?” you deadpan and reach to wipe the corner of his mouth. it prompts him to look at you for the first time since you came to find him. “like, nothing nothing, or something nothing?”

poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, his eyes flicker from your thumb to your lips, back and forth, as you pull your hand away. but then you look up at him expectantly, and his stare returns to the drink he really doesn’t even like that much, but will at least keep him occupied for a few more minutes.

“i’m supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow, but they close early on sundays and i have to drop off some shit last minute at tetsuro’s and talk about next week’s schedule—”

“oh my god, hajime,” you laugh and tilt your head at him. “it’s a party and you’re sitting on the grass outside thinking about your sunday chores?”

he shoots you a look. “you asked.”

“and curiosity killed the cat.”

“but satisfaction brought it back?”

you elbow his side. “yeah, well, no satisfaction this time, mr. sunday groceries.”

a stray gust blows against you, colder than the ones before it, and your arms move to wrap around your middle. hajime’s lips drop to a frown. “where’s your jacket?”

“i dunno, on the couch? in the closet?” 

you’d rather not tell him it’s sitting on a bed, currently being used by 4 people you barely know beside their names playing truth or dare, and you picked finding him over facing them.

“you don’t—okay, just, you can use mine.” he grabs the denim from beneath you, but you wrap your hand around his wrist.

“are you joking? i’m not making us sit on cold, wet grass. this is a new outfit.”

but wind pushes again, and the collar of hajime’s button-up—which you only now notice has been unbuttoned at the top—hits the side of his neck. you mutter a curse, and he moves to wrap his arm around you, tucking you into his chest.

warmth seeps through your clothes, and you bury yourself deeper in it, in him. it’s half unfamiliar, but not unwelcome as he blocks the brunt of the wind, and your cheek rests against his collarbone, something you try to ignore swelling and filling your chest.

“you love making things difficult, don't you?” he murmurs.

“of course. my favourite pastime is inconveniencing as many people as possible at once,” you mumble, breath fanning back against you.

hajime’s thumb rubs your hip, keeping his question of “what’re you doing out here then, ‘inconvenience’?” a joke about someone that was anything but.

you halfheartedly shrug—stomping feet, phone flashlights, and a couple making out in the kitchen, one looking uncannily like the friend holding you, leaving footsteps in your memory. “needed some fresh air, i guess. couldn’t find you, either. missed you.”

his thumb stops.

“also,” you pause with it, just long enough so belted lyrics can roll out the door to your spot on the grass. “they’re so fucking loud, dude.”

hajime laughs, and you feel it as clearly as you hear it. then he picks up the motion against your hip once again. “that’s what happens when they get a hold of shoyo’s throwback playlist.”

the sound of a window sliding open catches your attention, and the previously muffled 2010’s music becomes clearer— “it’s hot as fuck in here, is there a fan?”

“come t’the backyard!”

“the fuck? who ate the last slice of pepperoni?” both of you snicker at atsumu’s question, feelings of betrayal clear in his voice, even from here. 

your fingers play with the trim of hajime’s shirt, and his are splayed to keep you warm. “if someone calls the cops we’ll be the first to answer out here.” you bump him with your head. “do you wanna talk to the cops?”

“god, no,” he sighs and rests his cheek on your head. you feel him nod at something nearby. “we can hide in that bush.”

the bush in question, you’re pretty sure, is the neighbour’s, though sitting on the border of the properties, maybe it could be a shared thing. the two solo cups sitting at its bottom will be yours to clean up anyway.

you gasp and pull away to look at your temporary windbreaker, a hand over your heart. “you? hiding from the authorities? no way.”

hajime raises a brow, playful smirk pulling at corner of his lips. “you think i won’t dive into a bush?”

“i’m not doubting your athletic ability to get stabbed in the eye and ass with branches, loser. but i think if the cops found us in a bush, we’d look like college students looking for a shitty, secret make out spot.” you point out, smoothing his shirt where your head rested, hand probably cold as it runs across his chest.

but he makes no remark of the temperature, and it’s only when your pinky crosses fabric and finds skin that hajime’s breath hitches beneath you.

you look up at him, the same time chanting starts inside the house as the wind picks up.

maybe if it was earlier in the evening, you could brush aside his flushed cheeks for the sun’s work, pressing warm red into his skin. the near empty drink in his hand seems like it’d be the next best culprit if it wasn’t for the way his eyes seem untrained for contact, making stops on their way to meet yours.

hajime bites the inside of his mouth, offering a smile that sits unnaturally on his face, more out of expectation than humour. it’s a weak comfort, his eyes soon choosing the trees on the other side of the cul-de-sac over you.

he brings his drink to his lips, other hand still against your side, and you think you might've hit a target you didn't realize existed. “the horror.”

wind bites at your skin, pulling the screen door open as the song changes once more, and everyone cheers.

this was me practicing writing... Anything... because i'm so rusty i'm like a super squeaky door that needs 2 be oiled real bad. Omfg i couldn't figure out what to listen to while doing this but playlists where ur in the bathroom at a 2010's party can fix ur entire vibe. (playlist link) like yeah dynamite by taio cruz muffled is perfect actually omg ? fawking banger

can u believe it isn't an established relationship btw. looked at my drafts and said Girl do something new! so i did! my pattern of nothing substantial happening continues though which is why i kinda don't want to post this but. all in all it was quite fun 2 do so WHO GAF! 🔥🔥

#haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #iwiazumi x gn!reader #dont worry hajime...i have resolved thisIn Zmyhead. we r kissinfn!@@!! yaaay #gave up at the end after the pinky Thats mybad. LOLLL #all the writing after ive set up all the dialogue is so hard bro every time i get to the end its just like. #girl finish already. LEILEKDJSOB

[gutterfuuck]

“ROI—“

more bff!mark for my baby girls out there, i am watching and lurking when you least expect. the title is based on a song! it is the instrumental for roi. i do not have a specific reason, i just heard it while i was writing and hadn’t a title ready. i saw the phrase “sandbox love never dies” on another work, credit is due there for that!

cw: mdni!, dubcon-ish(? not sure how to describe, haha), smut, mark is pining hard for reader, possibly hint of yandere, this one is kind of long, bff!mark, piv, childhood friends to lovers trope, mark is a little delulu if u squint, virgin!mark (implied), semi-dark content please be aware, reader and mark are in college, reader knows that mark is invincible but that isn’t really important to the story.

mark knew this bedroom all too well. how couldn’t he? you both basically grew up in there together. you were always over at his house, he was always over at yours. inseparable ever since the day he had moved in across from you, sandbox love never dies.

his eyes landed on the fairy lights that were stapled to the wall to keep them in place… he had done that, years ago. he couldn’t bare to see the look of disappointment on your face when you realised that they hadn’t come with a sticky back so you could have them up on your wall. he still remembered the way your eyes lit up when he returned to your home with a stapler in hand, being careful not to staple through the wire. mark’s heart fluttered when he saw your little collection of cereal box figurines; also his doing. he couldn’t believe that you had held onto his gifts for so long, let alone display them proudly as if they were medals. to you, they might as well as be.

“you okay?” you asked, snapping him out of whatever dreamy trance he was in. he snapped his head around back to the tv, the ending credits of the zombie movie rolling on the screen. you had noticed how he had been staring into space for the last half hour of your movie, “me? yeah- i’m good, just thinking about something.” he smiled, quickly rummaging around on the floor to pick up the last of the movie cases, your marathon nearing its end. you were both back in town for the weekend, college kicking you both down and your dorm rooms not homey enough for it to feel right, so you had decided to drop in for a couple of days, killing two birds with one stone and seeing both mark’s parents and yours in one trip. your parents would be coming back later, that’s when the barbecue would come out.

mark switched the disk for the unwatched one, the movie menu popping up shortly after with a blood splatter animation on the title screen, “no don’t play it yet! we gotta refill here.” you spoke, pointing down at the almost empty bowl of chips, save for a few crumbs at the bottom. you had even ran out of cookies, remembering how mark had said that they should stop calling them family size if they were only able to feed two people in the span of an hour or two. you retorted with something about how usually people had self control; you weren’t supposed to scoff down three packs of family value cookies. ever.

“you gonna leave me here, all on my own? out in the open like this? i’m a sitting duck out here.” he joked, a satisfied warmth washing over him as soon as you had laughed. he loved your laugh, always. for as long as he could remember, “like anyone would come attack my house while you’re here, mark.” you rolled your eyes, his heart skipped a beat. he knew how much you relied on him to keep you safe sometimes. already knew that you’d know who to call if you were ever in any danger. he fed on it. you picked up the empty bowls, stacking them inside one another and opening your bedroom door.

“d’you want anything from downstairs?” you asked, holding an empty bottle of pop under your arm, hands preoccupied. mark shook his head, getting up to open your door wider for you, “i think i’ll just stick to eating all of this junk you keep throwing at me.” mark smiled, you smiled. mark’s heart ached.

“don’t you dare press play on that movie, mark grayson!” you yelled from downstairs, just missing the way mark’s cheeks dusted pink at the sound of his name on your tongue. you sounded like an angel. mark’s attention turned to your dresser, the top drawer full of your underwear. how did he know? well, he was the reason for your declining pairs of underwear, the source of the disappearing panties act that you had just brushed off as being forgetful or losing them somehow. he got up, face turning beet red as he stepped towards the drawer, fingers shakily reaching for the handle, slowly, slowly-

“are you going through my stuff?” shit. shit.

you had caught him, after all this time you had caught him. his mind raced for an excuse, his heart threatened to give up on him and he hoped that he would just have a heart attack already, quickly, he had to say something. anything, anything- “i’m kidding! if you’re looking for the remote, you already left it on the bed, silly!”

thank god. thank god.

“right, y-yeah! ha, i must’ve- forgotten..” he laughed nervously, heart still racing in his chest. all he could do was try to steady himself, calm his shaking hands and retreat back to his original seat, on your bed, next to you. he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, couldn’t stop thinking about how he could’ve had you right there if you had actually caught him, couldn’t stop thinking about holding your hands above your head and covering your mouth with his palm, ‘please let me, you don’t understand- just the tip and i’ll be done i swear.. just let me make you take me.’— he was daydreaming again, it was all your fault. he wanted you so badly, so desperately, why couldn’t you see it? why couldn’t you see him?

mark stared blankly at the tv screen with his jaw clenched, looking right through the screen. if he hadn’t had seen this movie dozens of times before with william, he would’ve been missing it. it was as if he was sleeping while sitting up with his eyes open, idle and dormant…

he heard you scream, his body shifting to shield you on instinct, breaking him out of whatever trance he had put himself in. you had thrown your arms over him, eyes squeezed shut. he was ready to fight, but fizzled down when he realised that you had only jumped into his arms for safety because of a jumpscare. a jumpscare. you were pressed up against him, you had almost jumped into his lap. it was like you were doing it on purpose, torturing him just because you could. you clung to him tighter, eyes glued to the screen in fear and anticipation for the next bloody scene…

fuck. he could feel his cock twitching in his jeans, straining against his boxers. leaking, weeping for you, his best friend. he was frozen, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip pulled into his mouth with his teeth so hard that he thought he would make himself bleed- bleed for you-because you were clinging onto him like you needed him. he needed you. he couldn’t help it anymore. it was now or never, here or nowhere.

“m’sorry-“ he said quietly and you turned to him, eyes staring up into his. that sent him over the edge. before you could ask him what he was apologising for, you were on your back, mark leaning over your body, a hungriness in his deep brown orbs. you had forgotten how fast he was, his powers completely slipping your mind. that was just it, you never cared. you always stuck with him, even after he had told you about his father’s secret roots all those years ago after he had just found out. he couldn’t wait to tell you, he always knew that you’d still see him the same, believe his words even if he lied-

“y/n, please- just let me talk, please just hear me out..!” he sounded different, shaky, almost scared to speak to you as if you were the one with superpowers holding him down. you weren’t scared, of course you weren’t. you looked into his eyes, concern washing over you as you watched your best friend open and close his mouth again, trying to find his words, “i.. i don’t- look, i…” more silence followed, tears brimmed in the corners of mark’s eyes and landed on your face, his gaze refusing to meet yours once again. you wanted to wipe his eyes, get to the bottom of why he was so upset… oh. oh. that was it, huh?

“mark-“ you interrupted, propping yourself up on your elbows to get closer to his face, closer so you could wipe his eyes-

mark panicked, he wasn’t ready for your rejection. wasn’t ready to hear you tell him that you had a boyfriend or that you couldn’t, didn’t want to hear you tell him that he was just like a brother to you, you couldn’t like him back because you were only best friends. he leaned forward, hands on your cheeks, lips crashing against your own. “mmf-!” you tried to move, his grip only tightening the more you tried to pull away, your hands on his wrists tightly. so this was how it was going to have to go, right? he’d dreamed of this for so long, it was so perfect. you were perfect.

“mark-!” you finally yelled, pushing him away by his shoulders. he could feel a dark pit starting to form inside of his stomach, regret washing over him, wishing that the pit would open up enough to swallow him too… “let me just breathe for a second..!” you huffed, locking eyes with him. your eyes never left his, mark’s eyes would try to flicker away from yours.

to him, it was a miracle. to you, it was a confession. it was years and years of bottled up feelings drowning you both all at once, it was confirmation.

you didn’t hesitate, hands snaking into his hair and pulling him back into a sweet kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist as he gasped shakily, a sweet nervousness behind his reciprocation. fireworks shot off in his brain, opening his mouth slowly only to be met with the intrusion of your tongue first, licking up against his as you held him tighter, pulling him closer, devouring him whole. god, you were going to kill him. are you going to kill him? give him a heart attack right here, right now? he thought so, hands aimlessly wondering under your shirt with his hips bucking into you with a groan rumbling from his throat, you whining back when his thumbs brushed against your nipples, your hips rocking against his. “w-wan’ you so b-bad-“ he spoke in between kisses, desperately trying to shove his tongue back down your throat straight after. you moved your hands to the hem of your skirt, shuffling out of it and kicking it off the end of your foot and onto the floor. this was hot, hungry. your hands pulled at his sweater, attempting to pull it over his head. he paused, sad to leave your lips once more, to take off his sweater and discard it into a random corner. “y/n, wanna- can i.. please- just the t-tip, only wanna feel it..- please let me, i’ll be quick, p-promise-“ you shut him up with a deep kiss, arms wrapped around his neck, “..i want all of it, mark. i can take you.” and mark almost cums in his jeans right there, nodding lazily and sliding his hand between your bodies to fiddle with the button and fly of his jeans, mentally congratulating himself for not just messily tugging them past his hips. he wasn’t alone with your panties jerking off next to you in your bed while you slept anymore- no- he had time. he could take it slow.

you couldn’t help but moan when you caught sight of his cock, heavy and thick and leaking between his legs, aching for you. who would’ve guessed? your best friend was packing. mark rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling his waist, hands pressed on chest. to him, all you had ever done was look down on him, even if you had never intended so. for once, you really were looking down on him, but he was in control. he wanted to be in control, he should have been in control. and with that, the position shifted once more.

mark’s thumbs separated your gooey folds after pulling your panties to the side, he recognised that pair, he had planned on taking them one night. a pair of red lace panties, simple but permanent in his brain. he knew your cunt all too well, the nights where you would need help to stumble back to your dorm drunk when he would tower over your clothed body, flipping up your dress and lick your cunt until he busted against your bedsheets, he could always dismiss it as a yoghurt stain or something if you had ever asked.

mark grabbed you by the thighs, pulling you closer so your cunt was in perfect line of his fat dick, swiping the head up your slit and shivering when you moaned quietly because of the contact to your clit. this was so surreal, he was living in a dream and he never wanted to wake up. you both hissed when he caught his tip on your hole, eyes meeting once more before he let himself go, hands gripping your hips as he pressed into his your warm, wet pussy. you were going to take all of him. “fuuck..! mnh-“ you almost screamed, trying to adjust to his length. mark didn’t care. neither did you. his cock bullied its way into your tight walls, mark whispered small apologies into your ear as you whined at him, slowly gyrating your hips to try and almost run from the stretch, to give yourself a minute to adjust again, “don’t do that- you don’t have to do anything-“ he started, his warm breath fanning over your neck which caused goosebumps on your skin, “you don’t have to do anything other than lay here.. stay still n’ take my cock.” his words made you tremble, you tried to protest, his mouth blocking your words with a kiss, his dick pressing right up against your cervix with a harsh thrust of his hips, gummy gooey walls clenching down on him, a low “ohhh, ohh f-fu..ck-!” rumbling against your lips.

one thrust and he was immediately pussydrunk, your mouth hanging open and tongue poking out when he drew his hips back, slamming them back into you with uneven, inexperienced movements. he fucked like a rabid dog, his nails digging into your skin as he babbled above you,

“d-do you feel full? can’t push any deeper..” followed by a pressure on your stomach, his hand pressing down so he could feel himself thrusting through your body,

“ghnn..- y/n you feel so much b-better than my fleshlight-!” did he even know what he was saying? your walls tightened around him, the wind being knocked out of your lungs again when he pressed harder, lips working against yours, his vision blanking and ears ringing when you didn’t stop tightening and loosening on him, mushy cunt trying to milk him dry.

you couldn’t do anything but moan breathlessly, pushing the hair falling into his face back, his jaw clenched and forehead sweaty, pressing his head against yours. this was it, this was everything his life had been building up to until now. he thought that maybe he had subconsciously made you fall for him, all of the times he had touched you secretly conditioning your brain. he doubted it, but the idea of him and him only reworking your mind to love him made him keen. “yeah, tha’s right.. take it, c’monnn..” he babbled, his eyelashes wet with tears, not knowing or caring whether they were happy tears or the result of his pleasure. you were right on the edge, your moans getting louder and shorter, scrambling to let mark, your best friend, know that you were going to spray all over his pelvis. you’d squirted before but this felt.. different. warmer, hotter. “c-c-!..” you struggled, eyes crossing and back bowing off of the bed, “fffuck-! ghfuckk yeah..- y-you’re cummin-“ he held your hand, hips stuttering when he felt your tight pussy starting to flutter, the tight coil in your stomach finally snapping;

warmth flooded your insides, legs twitching when you gushed all over yourself and mark. if you weren’t planning on changing your sheets after this, you definitely had to now. white ropes were out of mark’s cockhead riiiight against your cervix, breeding your cunt as if he had no control over himself, which he didn’t. you both panted, trying to balance your breathing. you felt his hips pull back, cock pulling out and opening the floodgates for thick globs of cum to pour out of you, your best friend rolling onto his back and covering his eyes with his forearm, mouth open as he breathed. he was in a daze, completely out of it, both of your liquids stuck to mark’s flaccid dick.

“did you get it out of your system yet?” your voice always bought him back. it was always you, it had always been you. “i… really want to be with you. i wanted- i want you, y/n.” mark spoke sternly, finally being able to complete his sentence from earlier. “i think i could gather that.” you retorted with a laugh. your laugh, his favourite.

you locked eyes, dark murky brown pools staring directly into yours. his pinkie finger hooked around yours, laughter bubbling from both of you. the fairy lights shined in his peripheral vision. the movie’s credits rolled on the screen, the whole movie falling on deaf, horny ears.

it was quiet, the only sounds being of yours and mark’s breathing. this was nice, blissful. peaceful.

“i love you, mark grayson.”

#mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible #dark blog #mark grayson smut #fem reader #invincible smut #invincible x reader #bff!mark grayson #smut

[hayakawalove]

Test of Love (Chapter Four)

All Chapters

Summary: You decide to forgive Suguru, it's too hard -not- to.

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying it so far! I really can't wait to start writing nasty smut for this fic. I really appreciate the comments!

CW: Fem Reader, AFAB Reader

W/C: 5,098

Credit to @benkeibear for the banner

Your class was running you ragged. When Maki wasn’t yelling at the top of her lungs, you heard Panda breaking desks. Calling it a migraine would be putting it lightly. Your skin prickled at the sight of the second years shoving each other, arguing about something or the other. You loved being a teacher, you really did, but damn if they didn’t make it hard sometimes. You plaster on a fake smile and grab Maki and Panda by the scruffs of their necks, digging your fingers in tighter the more they wiggled in your hold. 

“Stop fighting before I tie you to a tree and leave you to make up with each other.” You try to contain your anger but it leaks out in every syllable. 

“She started it!” 

“Why would I stop when-“ 

Your feet are moving before Maki can finish her sentence. You loved them to death but they were always doing something to rile you up. It wasn’t on purpose, hopefully. Panda was just Panda and Maki was just Maki. 

The harsh heat of the sun beats down on your skin as you fasten the rope across their bodies. Panda looks deflated as he sits on one side of the tree while Maki is holding back a snarl on the other side. 

“When I come back the both of you better have figured something out and apologized to each other.” You step away and admire your handiwork. 

“I’m better sure that qualifies as child abuse.” Satoru walks up to you, looking towards the tree. 

“Yeah, well, everything we do counts as child abuse.” 

Plus you weren’t doing it to hurt them. If anything you were doing it to help them. Especially Panda; Maki looked as if she was two seconds away from tearing him limb from limb. It was something she could’ve, and would’ve, done. You definitely didn’t want to have to be the one to explain that to Yaga. You were not about to be put on trial for negligence. 

You face Satoru and feel a different type of heat crawl up your cheeks. Memories from the night you spent together flood through your brain. His tongue dragging on your skin, teeth sinking into your flesh, it was hard to focus on what he was saying as you stared at his beautiful pink lips. 

Satoru says your name, jutting his face closer to yours. The close proximity causes your heart to stutter as you turn your head, unable to look him in the eye. 

“Are you even listening to me?” 

His cologne overwhelms your senses. Cedar wood and pine. There’s butterflies in your stomach as you put on a brave face to look towards him. When you turn to him he grins, dropping his eyes to your lips before back up again. 

“You weren’t listening. Maybe you just want me for my body.” Satoru teases, before stepping away to his full height. 

“Well I certainly don’t want you for your personality.” You quip, feeling the temperature drop back down once he wasn’t invading your privacy. 

“You and Suguru are so cruel to me.” Satoru feigns disappointment. 

At the drop of the black haired males name the space between you two falls silent. You hadn’t spoken about him in several days, not since the night Satoru and you shared. 

Satoru’s the first to break the silence. 

“Have you talked to him yet?” 

You were sort of dreading that question. Because the truth was, you hadn’t talked to him. You didn’t know how. There wasn’t a rule book for this situation. Were you supposed to reach out first? It appeared like he was stepping back to give you breathing room, but you didn’t want breathing room anymore. You wanted to be suffocated by him. 

“No.” You speak under your breath, looking away again. 

You can tell Satoru understands. Whether or not he agrees with you is still up for debate. He appeared unbothered by the situation. It seemed like he thought the whole thing was funny, which you couldn’t really disagree with. It really was absurd, wasn’t it? Plus, you had a hard time believing much would cause a real fight between the two. Sure, they bickered, but you knew true fights were few and far between. 

Satoru hums and follows you back to your classroom. His students were out on a mission. Yuuta and Inumaki  had just left, effectively freeing up your schedule. There had been no word of the recent attacks lately, it appeared like the new strategy that Yaga came up with was working. For now, at least. 

“For what it’s worth, he won’t stop talking about you. It’s even starting to annoy me, and I’m the annoying one.” Satoru speaks and sits on a chair in front of your desk. 

You make yourself comfortable behind the table, getting your things ready to go. 

“I’ve never seen him so distraught before.” Satoru goes on, grabbing one of your desk decorations, fiddling with it before you snatch it from his hand. 

“Why is he the distraught one?” You ask, trying to not pay attention to the churning feeling in your gut. 

Satoru shrugs and kicks his legs up on your desk, ignoring the dirty look you give him. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to piss you off. 

“Good question. Probably because the guilt is destroying him from the inside out. Or something.” 

Satoru was dramatic. 

Even so, part of you believed what he was saying. 

You sigh and cross your arms on the desk, laying your head down. Suguru was nice, there was no doubt in your mind that he felt bad for what happened. At first, you enjoyed it a little bit, knowing that he felt bad because what he did was wrong. But that turned into guilt. You weren’t sure which of you was more remorseful now. 

“If he had it his way he would be smothering you. He’s like that, you know. But he respects space so he isn’t going full mother hen on you yet. Although the second you come around he definitely won’t hold back again.” 

You tap your forehead against your arms several times. Smothering you, huh? You’re reminded of the actions he did on your date, the ones that struck you as parental. It would make sense if he was overwhelming. Not that that was a bad thing. 

You almost had to laugh, the two men were so opposite. Suguru was overwhelming on the inside but tried to hold back, while Satoru was overwhelming on the outside, but was more reserved the closer you got. 

“Where do I even start, Satoru?” You peek out over your arm, catching a glimpse of a smile when you say his name. 

It was still taking you time to get used to it, but you liked the way it rolled off your tongue. 

You liked his name. 

“Don’t know. Whenever I piss him off I just annoy him till he gets over it. He doesn’t piss me off very much so I’m not sure what I’d do. But you could just start over with him. A redo.” 

A redo? 

You think about the idea for a moment before you hear your name being called from the courtyard. Satoru remains seated as you stand up, making your way towards the doors. Maki is yelling at you but you’re having a hard time hearing her. When you get closer, you see that the two of them look much more calm. Maybe it was a bit harsh, but it worked. 

“We forgave each other, can you let us go now?” She yells. 

You crouch and begin working the knot, thoughts floating back to Suguru. 

After work, you should do something after work. 

When you stand back up you stagger behind your students, head in the clouds as you think about Suguru. Pink covers your vision as flower petals dance to the ground in front of you. The splash of color reminds you of the butterfly wings you saw with him. It was such a magical date, you truly hadn’t been on anything like it. 

The door slams behind you as you enter your classroom and you feel your heart sink. Satoru had left. It was a shame, you were enjoying his company. You couldn’t be that upset, though. He was constantly being dragged away for missions. You needed to leave soon anyway, so you tried not to let it get to you.

~~~

The sun blurs your vision as you make your way to the old bookstore. You planned on stopping in after work to gather your thoughts before heading to Suguru’s (and Satoru’s). You find you always did your best thinking when in the confines of the book shelves. An overwhelming smell of old paper and black ink hits your nose as you walk through the threshold. It was quiet today, everyone was probably enjoying the nice weather outside instead of staying in to read. 

You wander the halls and find yourself down an aisle, looking for a specific book. Your eyes glaze over the different titles until you find the one you’re looking for. ‘In the beginning’. It was a book Suguru had told you about over text late one night. He said it wasn’t nearly as good as the one you were reading previously, but that it was still decent. You wrap your fingers around the spine and pull it out, clutching it in your hand while you go to your favorite seat. 

It was the same seat that you had met him in. You plop down and open the book, turning to the first page. You allow the words to whisk you away. 

The space around you is completely silent, save for the sounds of the fragile paper between your fingers. You don’t notice a man walking up to you. 

“That’s a good book.” A voice softer than silk reaches your ears.

Hold on.

You know that voice. 

You tear your eyes from the page to see a man standing in front of you. Hair deeper than obsidian and an angular face tilted down towards you. 

Suguru. 

“I think so,” you attempt to keep your voice steady. 

You’re reminded of your first meeting with Suguru in the cozy building. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just saw the book you were reading.” 

“It’s okay, in fact someone recommended this to me.” 

His lips twitch into a slight grin as you play along with him. A redo, Satoru’s voice plays back in your head. 

“Is that so?” He questions, sitting on the chair across from you. 

The same chair he sat in when you met. 

“Yeah, the guy has really good taste.” 

Suguru’s mouth parts as his tongue drags across his bottom lip, the action slow, vaguely reminding you of the night you saw him last. 

“What’s your name?”

You say your name, watching as his eyes glisten at the sound. 

“You have a pretty name.” His arms rest lazily on the chair, tendons littering his hands. “My name is Suguru.” 

There’s butterflies in your stomach now, just like the butterflies you saw with him at the observatory. The discussion feels like a carbon copy of the initial one you had, minus your feelings. Back then, you were nervous. But now, you were only giddy. 

“What is it you do for a living?” He asks. 

“Actually I’m a teacher.”

“Really? I’m curious if you know my boyfriend. His name is Gojo Satoru.” 

Your face cracks into a grin as Suguru opens himself up. In addition to him revealing Satoru, you could also see a wave of blue surrounding his form. Cursed energy. 

“I do, for better or worse.” 

Suguru lets out a chuckle at your words, crescent eyes locked closed as his chest rumbles. His laugh was soothing. 

You were so glad he came up to you first. Even though you were planning on going to his house after this, you still weren’t sure what you were going to say. Obviously he would know what to say. The world around you disappears as your gaze focuses on Suguru. 

It was comforting to be around Suguru. It was hard to be without him, even if you hadn’t known each other that long. 

Even though you enjoyed Satoru, and you really did enjoy Satoru, it felt right to have the two of them balance each other out. 

“I hope I’m not coming off too strong, but would you be interested in going out?” He asks. 

Yes, yes, a hundred times yes. 

“I don’t know, would your boyfriend mind?” 

“Something tells me it wouldn’t bother him.” 

You grin. 

“What’s your number?” You say this, knowing full well his contact is already in your phone. 

He reads it to you and you go to his contact, finally saving it under his name. You read your number out to him, no doubt in your mind he already has it. 

“I’m looking forward to it.” He slides his phone in his pocket. 

You watch as he departs, until you can no longer see him. You should be getting home too. 

~~~

Your feet hit the pavement as you start your walk home. You were relieved that Suguru reached out to you. You were hoping he would text you soon for details about the date. You wondered what the two of you would get up to. The last time you saw him things got heated very quickly. It felt like things had reset though, and you were glad for it. You wanted to do things right this time. 

Although you didn’t want to forget everything that happened.

Suguru’s laughter, smell, and the way his voice sounded pressed up against your ear filled your mind. 

You see a single butterfly overhead, a rare occurrence for the bustling streets of the city, and you stop in your tracks. 

You couldn’t wait for him to text you. 

Your feet move before you have a say, and you’re running to Satoru and Suguru’s apartment. You were still by the bookstore, so it would have been faster to catch a cab, but you weren’t thinking straight. 

You had wasted time being mad at him. You needed to see him again. All rational thoughts leave your head.

You stop running after thirty minutes, once their tall building stands before you. It was a bit daunting. You force yourself to step inside the building, and goosebumps immediately crawl over your skin. There was a sheen of sweat layering your forehead and your hair was a crumbled mess. The attendant eyes you, only looking away when you meet her gaze. You looked crazy. You almost thought about turning right back around, the absurdity of the situation hitting you like a freight train. 

No, you were here and you were going to do this. 

Your feet make their way to the elevator, and you thank god when it opens and there’s no one inside. You feel antsy as the elevator carries you to their floor, mind flailing as you try to come up with something to say. 

I know we just saw each other, but I want to see you again. 

What if he wasn’t home yet? That would be awkward. 

You walk towards their apartment, your fist knocking the door once you reach it. 

You’re still out of breath as the door creaks open. Suguru’s standing there, brows raised in surprise as he looks down at you. 

“Who is it?” Satoru calls from behind. 

Suguru says your name, watching as you breathe hard. 

“You here for part two?” Satoru says, a playful tone filling his words. 

Suguru’s face scrunches up as he looks behind him before turning back towards you. 

“What’s up?” 

“I want to talk to you.” You pant. 

Suguru steps out, closing the door behind him to gain some semblance of privacy. You knew Satoru probably had his ear pressed against the door, if there was anything that bugged him it was not being privy to some information. 

“I’m sorry for overreacting to what happened. I was stupid. And I just wanted to know if you wanted to go on a date soon, like tomorrow.” Your words rush out, watching as an indecipherable expression lights up Suguru’s face. 

He stops you, placing a finger underneath your chin. He tilts your face up and plants a kiss on your lips. 

“I would love to go out tomorrow.”

Your hands grip his shirt, biting your cheek as relief washes over you. 

~~~

When you meet Suguru for your second first date it was dusk. A pink orange hue had settled over the city, the bustling metropolis more quiet than usual. The sky reminds you of cotton candy and your thoughts drift to Satoru, his sweet tooth making a smile break out on your face. 

“What’s got you smiling?” Suguru breaks you from your trance when he reaches you.  

You look up at him, eyes trailing down his unwavering figure. His hair was half up half down, and he wore lazy clothes with a jacket. You liked this look on him. 

“I was just thinking of Satoru.” 

Suguru stops short in front of you, offering his arm up. You graciously accept, threading your elbow around his. A smile quirks on his lips as the two of you start off. 

“Thinking of another man on our date?” He’s poking fun at you. 

You nudge him with your shoulder, and your ear picks up on soft laughter escaping his lips. The two of you decided on dessert, agreeing that you deserved as much after a long day of work. 

Your feet carry you down a sidewalk until you reach a small dessert shop. Cakes, cookies, and ice cream were advertised on the windows, the thought of it making your mouth water. 

It’s relatively slow when you step inside. There’s several families and a group of friends, but all of them are keeping to themselves. The sweet scent of sugar fills your senses, fueling the excitement that was beginning to boil in your stomach. It seemed like such an odd place for him to take you. Honestly, it was more fitting for an idea for Satoru to pitch, not his black haired counterpart. 

You stroll up to the counter, eyes the size of the moon as you glance down at the display of sweet treats. The cakes were looking the most appealing, so you decide on that. You lift a finger up to point to a triple chocolate cake, your body shimmying slightly as the worker slices you a piece. You think you see Suguru out of the corner of your eye watching you, but you decide not to say anything. There wasn’t much of a point in getting embarrassed in front of him, he had already seen so many sides of you. Suguru requests a slice of vanilla cake and pays, shortly following you to a table in the back of the shop. 

You don’t feel nearly as nervous as you did when you had your first date. There was already this calm understanding between the two of you (something that probably happened after you grinded against him in the club). 

The two of you talk about your days, the conversation flowing just as easily as it did whenever you talked to Satoru. Suguru told you he was off today, and spent most of the morning cleaning his apartment. 

“I was a bit surprised you didn’t reach out first, Satoru said you tended to be smothering.” You laugh to yourself, sliding your fork through the cake. 

It tears like paper, the texture moist and fluffy. Homemade chocolate icing decorated the outside, spirals printed into the cake. 

“Did he?” Suguru asks rhetorically, crossing a leg over his other, taking a bite of his dessert. 

“He did. Although I’m a bit surprised. I would have thought he would be the smothering one, just based on his personality type. But at times he seems a bit guarded.” 

Suguru remains quiet as you speak, his eyes remaining downcast as he thinks. 

“He is. He just isn’t used to opening up around people. From what I hear though, he has no problem talking to you.” 

You dig your teeth into your bottom lip and grin, dragging the fork to your mouth. The dessert melts onto your tongue, tainting your lips brown. 

“I would like to think so. I mean, he’s not always guarded. He told me he gets needy after-“ you stop yourself, staring into your cake. You drag your eyes up and see Suguru watching you, an intrigued look on his face. After looking down once more you finish your sentence. “Sex.” 

Suguru’s brow lifts as his eyes stay steady on you. The hair on the back of your neck raises. 

“When’d he say that?”

Your eyes are glued to the table in front of you as your body heat rises twenty degrees. When did it get so hot? You can feel Suguru’s eyes staring into you, no doubt trying to read your mind. You’re really glad he can’t, because if he could he would see your night with Satoru replaying over and over. 

It wasn’t that you were afraid of telling Suguru you and Satoru had sex (sort of), he knew you were also seeing him. Hell, he almost had sex with you first. So why did it feel like you were caught red handed? 

“Oh um, a couple days ago.” 

Suguru’s head tilts as he continues looking at you, obviously not satisfied with your answer. You feel a bit like a mouse, with Suguru seeming like a cat who had his gaze set on you. 

“How’d that come up?” 

Surely he was fucking with you. He knew exactly what happened. Satoru must’ve told him, right? The fucker couldn’t keep anything to himself, you wouldn’t be surprised if Satoru bragged to Suguru as soon as he could. 

“When we,” you fiddle with your fingers, unable to meet his eyes. 

You were an adult for Christ's sake, so why did you feel so small under his gaze? 

Those fucking eyes of his. 

Suguru lets out a chuckle and raises his fork to his mouth. Your chest feels lighter at the break in tension, your shoulders sagging in relief. He takes one more bite before pushing his plate towards you. 

“Come on, try it.” 

You look up at him and grin, grateful he was letting you off the hook. You pierce your fork in his cake, dipping it in your mouth. The vanilla compliments the chocolate well, the mixture making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“You can have the rest of it. If not, I’m just gonna give it to Satoru, he practically begged me to let him join us but I told him you weren’t ready for that yet,” Suguru rests his head on his hand, watching you eat. “You aren’t, right?” 

That is what you told Satoru. You wanted to take it slow, and enjoy your time with each man separately before diving head first into a polyamorous relationship. You probably should wait, it was already overwhelming to spend time with them one at a time, you weren’t sure how you would be able to handle both at once. 

You did, however, know you wanted to. 

“Yeah, not yet at least. I do want to, it’s just,” you cut yourself off. 

How are you supposed to tell him that both of their presences make you feel like you’re drowning? 

“I get it.” Suguru’s voice soothes you. 

Of course he would. You remember what Satoru had to say about Suguru. Nice and understanding. They were the same words you would use to describe him as well. It was sort of weird, though. For years you had heard small bits about this man through Satoru or Yaga. 

You knew he would sometimes snore when he was starting to get sick. You knew he was smarter than Satoru in all subjects besides math and science. You knew what his breakfast order was. But you just had never known him. You never knew what he looked like, how he smelled, how your name sounded off his lips. 

But now you did. And you were so grateful. 

You nudge the plate forward back towards Suguru, feeling as though your stomach may burst. There were several bites left, and you were sure that Satoru would chide Suguru for not leaving him more. 

“I can’t eat anymore, you might just have to roll me out of here.” You rub your hand across your stomach, leaning back into the chair. 

Suguru smiles at that. You’ve decided you really liked his smile. 

It’s dark when the two of you step outside, a cool breeze causing a chill to run up your spine. You shiver, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Suguru. He shrugs off his jacket and carefully drapes it over your shoulders, and moves a piece of hair out of your face, sliding it behind your ear. Smothering. The word runs through your mind again. Suguru was doting, that much was obvious. But you could see how it may come off as overbearing. You wouldn’t mind being smothered by Suguru. You doubt Satoru minded it either, in fact you were sure it must have contributed to the reason Satoru was a spoiled brat. 

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” He squeezes your hand. 

You rest your head against his arm as the two of you walk back to your house. You had only gone out to eat, yet somehow it had felt magical. Not only did it feel magical, but it felt normal. You liked that about Suguru. Being with him felt like you were in a fairytale, and at the same time you felt like an ordinary girl. You never spoke about work with him, he allowed you to just be. 

Not that you hated that about Satoru. In fact, you quite liked it. It was nice having someone who understood you and the work you were doing, someone you could bitch to whenever Yaga got on your nerves. They really did balance each other out well. 

The moon lights up your path as you walk besides Suguru, the low sounds of the city a low buzz in your ears. It was never quiet here. You didn’t really mind it. You probably would’ve been paranoid if it was quiet. Anytime you had a mission in a small town it felt like you were waiting for something to jump out at you. 

You decide you want to hear Suguru’s voice some more. 

“Hey Suguru?” 

He hums, eyes flickering down at you before returning to the sidewalk. 

“What do you like about Satoru?” You’ve been meaning to ask. 

For years you heard Satoru talk about Suguru, so you were interested in hearing what the other man had to say. 

Suguru stops and looks around a bit dramatically. He’s looking at the bushes that line the pavement, and over the parked cars. 

“What’re you doing?” You stop and watch him. 

“Seeing if Satoru’s hiding somewhere. Did he put you up to asking that?” 

You start to laugh, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. You close your eyes as you chuckle. It really is something that Satoru would ask. 

When you open your eyes you see Suguru looking down at you, watching as you laugh. Your heart skips a beat at the way his eyes shine in the moonlight. A soft smirk is painted on his face while he looks at you. 

“No, no he didn’t. I just wanna know. He’s talked about you a lot, you know.” 

Suguru dips his head and turns forward again, starting to walk. You follow after him and look up, watching as he talks. 

“He’s just Satoru. It’s hard to explain. He’s annoying, noisy, cocky-” Suguru lists off. 

“Pretty sure I asked what you like about him.” You stop him. 

“-but he's also intelligent, funny, and caring. He cares so much for people, even though he has a weird way of showing it.” Suguru uses a tone you've never quite heard him use before. 

“I never really felt understood by people. I come from a family of nonsorcerers, so for a while it just sort of felt like I was the only one who existed. I love my family, but they never really understood me, still don’t.” 

You come from a family of nonsorcerers too, so you knew the feeling all too well. You were so damn lonely as a kid. 

“And then when I met Satoru it was like my world shifted. Not only was he a sorcerer as well, but he was the strongest one. Or, on track to become the strongest one at least. I didn’t feel alone anymore. And I haven’t ever since.” 

You feel weightless at his words. The love the two of them had for each other was unbreakable. The kind of love you could only read about, the kind of love you weren’t sure really existed until now. 

Your heart aches at the possibility of them loving you in the same way. It was something you had dreamed about since you were little. They might not love you in the exact same way, but they might love you just as much. You begin to feel dizzy at the prospect. 

Your apartment comes into view and you feel a little sad that your date was over. You would be seeing him again, you remind yourself. 

“Don’t tell him I said any of that, though. His head is big enough as is.” Suguru murmurs. 

You laugh and agree. Satoru would not shut up if you told him what Suguru said. Something told you that Satoru knew how much Suguru loved him, though. 

Your feet stop as you reach your apartment. Suguru faces you and smiles as you begin to take off his jacket. 

“Keep it, what if your apartment is cold too?” 

You bite back a smile, wrapping it around you once more. He wanted you to keep it. 

“Smart, I wouldn’t want to catch a cold in my house.” 

“I would never forgive myself if you did.” 

Suguru’s eyes lock with yours. He leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. Warmth blooms across your skin, crawling down your body. He pulls back and pushes his lips against yours, the taste of him seeping through you. He tasted like vanilla. 

Your eyes flutter open when he steps away. You tug his jacket around you tighter, waving as he turns to go home.

Those two boys were going to be the death of you. 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @constawrites, @spookysoowpprince,

@reosnagi, @faerie-soirxx, @platrom, @oownowonwoo, @megumisdivinedogs,

@sakui1, @maskedpacific, @riri-twix

If you want to be added to the taglist just let me know, and specify if you only want to be on the taglist for this fic or all my works

#my writing #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #suguru x you #suguru geto x you #geto x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #satoru x you #gojo x reader x suguru #poly satosugu #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

[sockablock]

Rating: General Audiences (No Archive Warnings Apply) Words: 2,181 Summary: Wedding preparations are going off without a hitch until Senshi asks Falin whether her parents are coming. Marcille’s hands freeze mid-daisy twist. Chilchuck closes his eyes and waits. Kabru, who had given up on weaving hours ago and was mostly just watching the others make garlands, quietly casts his gaze to Laios. (or: Laios, Falin, and Marcille talk about parents.)

Wedding preparations are going off without a hitch until Senshi asks Falin whether her parents are coming.

Marcille’s hands freeze mid-daisy twist. Chilchuck closes his eyes and waits. Kabru, who had given up on weaving hours ago and was mostly just watching the others make garlands, quietly casts his gaze to Laios.

“I’ll have to know how much to mutton to serve,” Senshi continues. “Or would they prefer the eel serpent instead?”  

Marcille can practically hear Chilchuck counting to ten under his breath. He only makes it to eight before Falin says, “Oh…I haven’t actually heard back from them yet—”

And Laios starts, “Of course they’re not—Falin, you what? You didn’t—”

“Yes,” Marcille interjects. “She invited them.”

Laios stands up so fast that his chair falls over and he hits the table. His robe send daisies scattering to the ground. “Wh—but…why would you do that?”

“Because they’re our parents, Laios,” Falin looks up at him. “They should be here when I get married.”

His expression darkness. “No they shouldn’t. Your wedding day is supposed to be happy.”

“It’s what she wants,” Marcille says, surprisingly forcefully. “It’s what will make her happy.”

“What do you know?” Laios snaps.

Marcille gasps. “I—that’s—” She seems too stunned or angry to speak. For a moment after, the garden is quiet as a graveyard, everyone fixed in horrified place.

Then Marcille shoots up and slaps the table. “It’s my wedding too!” she says.

“They’re our parents!”

“So what? You won’t even have to talk to them! They’ll be seated somewhere else!”

“Have you already thought this through? Why haven’t you said anything?”

“Because we knew you’d be—”

Laios turns to Falin, utterly betrayed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Falin looks like she’s about to cry, which is when Chilchuck and Kabru, acting almost in unison, grab Senshi and say, “Let’s go check on Izutsumi,” and half-drag, half-run themselves out of the garden.

Falin twists the edge of her shirt in her lap. Marcille huffs loudly. “See? This is exactly what we wanted to avoid—”

“Marcille,” Falin says.

“Huh?”

She takes Marcille’s hand. “Can you give us a second?”

Marcille starts. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Laios has fixed his glower at the ground to staunchly avoid looking at Marcille.

She sighs. “Okay, fine. But seriously, if you need me, I’ll be right over—”

Falin squeezes her hand. “I know. Thanks.”

With one last glance –now wavering between righteousness and nervous regret – Marcille trudges out of the courtyard.

The energy seeps out of Laios in that moment, though his anger clearly remains. He sits down and grabs a daisy, comically tiny in his large, worn hands, and starts pinching the stem.

“I…when did you ask them?”

Falin walks around the stone picnic table to sit next to her brother. She spends most of her time barefoot these days – if she can get away with it – and hardly makes a sound as she moves.

Her shoulder bumps Laios’s. He doesn’t lean into it, but doesn’t shift away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier. I wrote to them right after we settled the date. I didn’t want…I know letters can take a while to reach them, so I didn’t want them to miss it.”

“I don’t know why you’re still writing to them,” Laios bites. It has less edge than before, though. “It’s not like they care.”

“That’s not true—” Falin begins.

“They sent you away!”

“They did everything they could first,” Falin says. She tries to firm her voice up as they begin treading on old ground, though it occurs to her that they’ve never spoken this plainly about it before. “And it was for the best, especially after you…” She bites her lip. Then flinches as her fangs draw a bead of blood.

“Falin!” Laios says, looking alarmed. “Are you okay?”

She wipes at her mouth. “Don’t worry, brother.” She tries for a smile. “I still forget I have these sometimes.”

Falin knows Laios well enough to see him grapple with the urge to say something about dragon-chimera teeth sharpness while also stay mad enough to be taken seriously.

“I am really sorry,” Falin says again before Laios can pass out from the internal struggle. “You’re right. I should have said something.”

Laios’s shoulders slump. He sighs and reaches for another daisy.

“I do know why you’re still writing to them,” he admits, tying two stems together. “I know that the way you feel about them is different than the way I do. It is your wedding. If you want them there, that’s all that matters.”

She puts a hand on his shoulder. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. I was only going to bring it up if they said they were coming, otherwise I would have worried you for nothing. But…I ended up hiding it from you anyway, and that was wrong.”

“Would you have uninvited them if I asked you to?”

“Of course,” Falin says immediately. “I want you to have a good time too. It’s important to me that it’s a happy day for everyone I care about.”

Laios manages a tiny grin at that. He holds up the start of his flower chain. “You know, if you’re worried about how long it’s taking them to answer, I can just summon them here. I am the king of a whole country, after all.” Then his face goes slack. “You’ve told them I’m the king, right?”

“Er…”

Laios groans when Falin trails off. “They don’t even know yet?”

“They might,” Falin says quickly. “I’ve written to them and said that you beat the Lord of the Dungeon and people really like you for it. And Chilchuck says that pretty much everyone in the world has heard the story by now.” At Laios’s expression, Falin amends, “Maybe not everyone. Maybe just…mostly everyone.”

Laios sighs. “I really hate being king, you know. Well—that’s not what I mean. It’s important to me that I’m able to change people’s minds and make a place where everyone I care about is happy. And I know I can only do that because I’m the king. But…I didn’t even care about all that ‘leadership’ stuff when we were kids, let alone now.”

“That’s what makes you a good at it,” Falin says.

“I know,” Laios’s mouth quirks. “That’s what Kabru and Marcille keep—oh, Marcille. Shoot. I need to talk to her.”

Laios moves to stand, but Falin reaches a hand out and catches him by the wrist. “Wait,” she says. “About that—”

“I know,” Laios groans, “I shouldn’t have yelled—”

“No,” Falin says. “It’s not just that. Has she…talked to you about her invitations yet?”

“Huh?” Laios blinks. “Oh, uh, no. Why?”

Falin’s gaze casts downward. “She was defending me, but it’s not only that. You should ask her about it.”

“Uh, okay,” Laios says. “Is that all?”

Falin lets go of his sleeve. “Yep.”

***

Laios finds Marcille sullenly conjuring little butterflies out of the courtyard’s central fountain and making them chase each other around the statue of a particularly ugly fish. When she notices him approaching, the butterflies all shake and collapse into waves of water.

She waits until he’s a few feet away from her before saying, “I know you think it’s going to be awful, but ever since Falin sent the invitation I’ve been thinking really hard about this. There’s lots of tables, and you’ll be next to Falin and me at the head one, so if we put some decorative hedges between us, you won’t even be able to see them.”

“I don’t think Falin would have invited our parents just to hide them behind a bush the whole night,” Laios says. “Can I sit?”

Marcille eyes him warily, then exhales. Her ears droop when the tension leaves her. “I owe you an apology, don’t I?”

Laios sits in the grass and leans against the edge of the fountain next to Marcille’s staff. “I do too. Um, maybe even more than one, right?”

“What do you mean?”

Laios rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, I don’t actually know. Falin was kind of vague about it.”

“Did she tell you about my mom?” Marcille says, suddenly rigid again.

“Oh” Laios says, now incredibly out of his depth. “No?”

“Oh.” Marcille slumps.

Laios nudges her leg in a sign of peace. “Has something about your mother been bothering you?” His mouth opens when the clues finally line up. “Oh, Marcille. Is she not coming?”

Marcille knocks her staff over when she leans down to grab Laios around the neck and start to cry.

“Sff…yes…I mean…no. But it’s—it’s more complicated than that.”

Laios adjusts his position so he can pat Marcille on the back. Teary rivulets stick to the fur of his cloak.

“Marcille…I’m so sorry.”

“She…it’s not that she doesn’t want to be there. Not at all.” Marcille sniffs. “But—politically, it’s really hard for her right now. The human court she works for is basically controlled by the Western Elves. And they aren’t exactly our enemies, but they’ve made it pretty clear that they’re watching us carefully. And…I’m technically criminal, and even though Falin is the king’s sister, pretty much everyone knows she’s a chimera, which my mom doesn’t care about, but lots of other people do, so…”

“So she can’t come,” Laios says.

“No,” Marcille says. “But it’s not yours or Falin’s faults,” she adds with the next breath. “Seriously, I don’t want either of you beating yourselves up about it. It’s just the way things are. And my mom would probably want to bring her new husband with her anyway, which…” Marcille makes an expression that is only worsened by her red cheeks and runny nose.

Laios chooses not to ask Marcille to elaborate, instead passing her a handkerchief. Marcille blows her nose loudly.

“I just thought that if neither of my parents could be there, at least yours and Falin’s could.”

The fountain burbles gently behind them.

“Right,” Laios says.

“You’re lucky, you know,” Marcille adds quietly. “Not that—no, I’m not saying you should be grateful, or anything, and I don’t really approve of the way they treated your or Falin either. I mean, they’re old enough to know better.”

“Uh, right,” Laios says, slightly less certainly.

“I wish it was easier,” Marcille finishes. “That’s all.”

The two of them sit together in silence for a moment, watching pale wisps of clouds trail across the afternoon sky.

“What if she wore a disguise?” Laios says eventually, breaking the spell.

Marcille snorts in surprise. “What?”

“Or casts an illusion spell. She can, right? Then no one would even have to know.”

“I—I guess I didn’t think of that.”

“You were busy trying to figure out how to put my parents up a tree?”

“It wouldn’t have been up a tree!” Marcille laughs and slaps Laios on the shoulder. “If they’re going to be my in-laws, I at least want them to like me.”

“Did you know Falin hasn’t even told them I’m a king, yet?”

“She told me she wasn’t sure if you wanted them to know, so she didn’t mention it.”

Laios and Marcille share a look. “That sounds like Falin,” Laios says.

“Do you want them to know?” Marcille asks. “It might actually be good for us, especially since the North is usually so apolitical.”

“Er, is it?” Laios says, and Marcille rolls her eyes.

“Aren’t you from there?”

“I was a kid—”

“Then aren’t any of Kabru’s lessons sinking in?”

“Of course they are,” Laios says defensively. “Did you know that gnomes have a special ceremony they perform when young gnomes come of age? It’s called the—”

“I mean lessons about things other than how cool other races are. Like diplomacy? And tactics?”

Laios sinks slightly lower into the grass. “Yes,” he says petulantly.

“Really?” Marcille says.

“Sort of?”

Marcille laughs. She’s about to add something else when suddenly, loud clamoring echoes from the open hall opposite the courtyard and Izutsumi shouts her way into view, closely trailed by Chilchuck, Senshi, and Kabru, all urgently trying to pull her back.

“—do you mean, not now? I didn’t waste all that time picking daisies for nothing—oh, there they are!”

“No, seriously—” Chilchuck begins, then they all freeze when they spot Laios and Marcille.

“Oh,” Kabru blinks. “Is…are we interrupting anything?”

“We can come back,” Senshi adds. “I get it now.” He also winks, which is more confusing.

“It’s okay,” Marcille calls back. “Actually, we should all get back to the table, now. We’ve been slacking for long enough!”

“Did I miss something?” Izutsumi asks. “Why isn’t anyone working on the necklaces?”

“They’re not necklaces,” Marcille sighs. “They’re garlands. Falin says that in the North—”

“Why don’t we let her explain it?” Laios stands. “Come on. We should probably make a few extra too, just in case. So it’s good you brought more daisies, Izutsumi.”

"You're welcome," she preens.

And then they all go together to find Falin.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #farcille #touden siblings #laios touden #falin touden #marcille donato #jay writes #long post #fanfiction #fanfic #dungeon meshi fic #oneshot #manga spoilers

[batman-dc-imagines]

J squad trying to coax your cat off the roof or out of a tree?

Gotham!J Squad saving your cat from a high place...

Relation(s): Can be Romantic or Platonic

Jervis Tetch

Your cat has this poor man stressing.

It was supposed to be a simple task at your request.

Watch the cat for a couple hours while you are out doing your thing. How hard could that be?

Your cat decided that today would be the perfect time to put that to the test.

Jervis tidied up around the place.

Read a book.

Made himself a cup of tea.

Anything to make the minutes move by quicker honestly.

When it was getting close to the scheduled feeding time for your cat, Jervis called out its name.

Odd.

Nothing.

He checked the regular spots your cat liked to be in, his brows furrowing the longer it took to find it.

He can’t find the cat.

He can’t find your cat.

Your cat.

Not good. Not good in the slightest.

Confusion turns quickly to panic

“Twinkle, twinkle, little cat, oh how I wonder where you’re at!” He mutters to himself in panic.

In the middle of all this, he hears it.

A faint meow.

He freezes in his place and listens for it again.

Another faint meow.

He follows the sound. It gets louder the closer he gets to the back door.

He opens the door and looks around outside but there was nothing.

There it was again.

He looks up and the sight he sees almost makes him have a heart attack.

Your cat was on the roof, peeking its head out and staring right at him.

He’s immediately up the stairs and opening the nearest window to get to your cat before it decides to really test out its nine life.

He’s using everything in the book to grab your cat’s attention.

I’m talking, treats, random sounds, hand gestures.

Everything.

Eventually your cat gets interested and slowly struts over to him.

The minute it’s in arms reach, Jervis reaches out and snatches up the kitty.

Let’s just say he was able to get your cat down safely.

Not without getting some minor scratches as payback from your cat.

He basically chided your cat like you would a small child once there both back inside.

He fights with himself on telling you or not about what happened.

Worried that you’ll see him as an irresponsible person.

But also worried about lying to you.

Once you get back, he’s already at your feet weeping about what happened and how it was his fault and how he’s irresponsible and how he almost let your cat hurt itself and-

He shuts up when you-

laugh?

You’re laughing.

You just pat his shoulder and explain nonchalantly that it’s normal.

Hell your cats put you in the same situation multiple times.

Now he’s dumbfounded.

Jonathan Crane

This was unexpected for him.

Cat sitting.

He never had a cat growing up so he wasn’t sure how it would go taking care of yours.

You quickly introduced him to your feline before giving him a hug and leaving out the door.

They kind of just stared at each other for a solid minute before your cat walked away.

Jon just shrugged and took a seat on your sofa, grabbing the nearest book.

After about an hour, he noticed he hasn’t seen your cat ever since you left.

He gets up and starts wandering around your place, looking in small spaces where he assumes your cat would be.

He starts getting uneasy the longer he searches.

He’s searching your bedroom when he hears a meow.

He glimpses around the room in confusion before looking up and low and behold, there’s your cat.

On top of your wardrobe closet.

“How in the..”

The breath that he had been holding in was finally released.

He goes over to the wardrobe and holds out his arms but your cat doesn’t move a muscle.

Just stares.

“Seriously?!”

He lets out a deep sigh, going to the kitchen and grabbing a small baggie of treats you had shown him earlier to give your cat if needed.

When he walked back into the room, your cat perked up at the sight.

Jon smirked at that, taking out a couple and holding them up high enough but not too close.

The second your cat reached out a paw, Jon grabbed your cat and hugged it close to him.

“Got ya!”

Your cat just scowls at him for the rest of the evening until you get back.

He doesn’t find it a serious concern to tell you considering your cat isn’t hurt but, he might let it slip out though a couple weeks later.

Jerome Valeska

A/N: If you actually want to see how he'd save your cat, send in another ask. I just seriously think he'd be the prime reason your cat gets stuck.

He put your cat in the tree.

#batman rogues #dcu #batman villains #gotham #gotham imagine #batman rogues x reader #gotham x reader #batman villians x reader #jervis tetch #jervis tetch x reader #jerome valeska #jerome valeska x reader #gotham tv #gotham fox #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #gotham j squad #j squad x reader #j squad

[wittlesissyb4by]

Chapter 1

Oh fuck! Oh FUCK! FUCK!

I overslept.

I was supposed to be at work over an hour ago. If I hurried, I could take a shower, throw on some clothes that still needed ironing, and make it there by 11 if there isn’t much traffic. 

Or…I could just call in sick. 

Having the day to myself would be nice. I’ve taken a day off each of the last 3 weeks and I have to say, I’ve really been enjoying the extra day of relaxation. Not that my job is too taxing, I sit at a desk all day and move numbers from one column to the other, but on days I’m home I get to be free. I get to be me. 

My roommate Max is at work until 5. That’s at least 7 solid hours of play time. My mind races with all the possible things I could do. I’m already getting hard just thinking about it. I grab my phone and tune my voice as I dial, my other hand on my crotch, rubbing in excitement. 

“HR, this is Kelly.”

“Hey K-Kelly” I say in a terrible excuse for a raspy voice, coughing unconvincingly. “I think I'm getting pretty sick…”

“Again? This is like the third week in a row.” She says.

“Yea, I dunno, some kind of weird viral thing I guess.”

Even through the phone she sounded skeptical. “Hmm…okay well go ahead and take the day off, and bring in a doctor’s note on Monday.”

“A doctor’s note?”

“Yea. You’ve already used all your PTO days for the year, so you’ll need a note from your doctor to have it count as a sick day. Otherwise we’ll have to dock your pay.”

America.

“Okay, well *ehem* I’ll get the note and bring it on Monday.” I say, knowing damn well I'm too lazy to do any of those things. Maybe they’ll forget, or shrug it off, I dunno, that’s future-Jake’s problem. 

Today, I’m gonna pamper myself. Literally. 

But first I have to shave my legs. I dunno why. For whatever reason it puts me in that mood. Having fresh, smooth legs makes me feel both feminine and infantile. 

After I’ve removed any trace of body hair, it’s time to decide what to wear. I have a large divider in my closet that serves as a false wall. It effectively hides an entire section tucked back in the corner. That’s where I keep all my supplies.

I’ve accrued quite a lot over the years. Slowly adding to my wardrobe and repertoire of toys. I rake the hangars along the rod as I search for my outfit of the day, all of them in various shades of pink.

Frilly dress? Na. Too frumpy. Onesie? Too tame. I’m in a particularly slutty mood. I want something slutty.

I decide on my go-to: the sexy Schoolgirl outfit. 

Sure, it’s cliche. But there's a reason it’s so common. Nothing makes me feel more fuckable than that skimpy skirt and the crop top. It’ll even show off my new belly button piercing!

I take some time putting it all on, pretending I’m getting ready for a hot date or something, or maybe just a gangbang.

The skirt can’t even hang properly because of how hard my cock is poking out. I stroke it a few times, fighting the urge to do it more. I have to control myself, I don’t want this to end too early.

Luckily, I’ve learned a great way to fix that.

I take a few seconds to decide on a diaper. I end up going with the pink BunnyHopps, for multiple reasons, but the main one being that they’re super cute. 

I unfurl the diaper and lay it down on my bed, turning around to position myself over it. The crinkle as I lower myself onto it always gets me going. The shaky excitement from something so simple is something I will never understand about myself. But as I’m pulling the front of the diaper up to tape it shut, I realize I’ve forgotten something. Gotta get a plug. Oh! And powder…

After a bit of grunting and frustration, I work the plug into my ass. I love how full it makes me feel, having it inside and tickling my prostate gives me the heebie jeebies. I powder myself as best I can without getting it all over my skirt, then pull the front flap of the diaper over me and tape it snugly. 

Mmmm the way it feels when I sit up, feeling the padding as the plug presses into me is such a high.  

I stand up and look at myself in the mirror. Not bad, but it can be better.

I take my shaggyish hair and separate it into two tiny pigtails. I’m getting better at making them even, but I wish my hair was a bit longer. Two little bows attached to each do make it look super cute, though. 

I close the door to my room…just in case. I don’t want Max to come home early and find me prancing around like a pretty sissy. I turn back around and get to what I was doing…

Creeeeakkk

I panic. Jumping around, caught in the act, attempting to cover myself as the door swings open.

Nothing.

No one’s on the other side, the door just…swung open on its own accord, and damn near gave me a heart attack. I push the door shut again but it doesn’t click, just slowly creaks back open. It takes me two more attempts to get it to stick and stay shut. I gotta fix that sometime soon. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week…

I spend the next hour in my computer chair watching make-up tutorials as I learn to apply my own. Trying to contour without making myself look like bozo the clown is something I’m still struggling to learn. I’m pretty happy with what I accomplished though. I bat my mascara’d eyelashes at myself and give a dainty smile to the mirror. I feel so pretty, but I could definitely use some lip gloss!

When I’m satisfied that I look like a proper, fuckable sissy slut. I prance around the room. Well, as much as I can with a plug and pamper between my bum. I love my new stockings and Mary Jane slippers! They really complete the look. 

“Oh! Have I been a naughty girl today, Professor?” I say in as best of a sissy voice as I can muster. “Are you going to make me stay after class and be…punished?”

I giggle daintily at my little made up scenario. It’s silly and, admittedly, pathetic, but it’s the best I can muster under the circumstances. Judging by how hard I am in my pampers, it seems to be working just fine.

I go back to my secret stash and rustle around until I find the dildo I’m looking for. The big, fleshy 8-incher complete with balls and a suction cup, a favorite of mine lately. 

“Oh Professor!” I say, twirling around with the cock so that my skirt swishes and my diaper crinkles. “Whatever could I do to make it up to you??”

“Well I think you should start by…sucking up to me a bit…” I mimic in a deeper voice, trying not to cringe at the awful line.

I place the dick to my glossy lips, batting my eyes up at the ceiling and putting on an innocent facade, “Like this Professor??”

“Yes you little whore. Now let’s see what you got!”

I close my eyes and take the fleshy dildo in my mouth. I hear myself let out a little moan. God it feels so good having something in there. I have several pacifiers to appease my oral fixation, but there’s nothing like a nice big cock, even if it’s a fake one…

I get down onto my knees, putting the dildo on the edge of the bed, pretending I’m servicing a real man. I suck and slurp and try to do all the things the blowjob tutorial videos told me to. I can’t help but rub the front of my diaper with my other hand. My dick is practically screaming at me to cum. I bring myself right up to the edge and–

Thonk!

Oh fuck! Was that a car door? Is Max home?? Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit! What if he sees me like this?? 

I toss the dildo to the side and bustle over to the window as fast as my plug and padding will allow. I peek through the blinds and heave a huge sigh of relief.

It’s just the neighbor. They must have forgotten something at work I guess.

Phew…close one. 

My heart is still beating out of my chest, and my stomach is still in knots from the adrenaline. All of my horniness has evaporated.

Well, kind of. One quick look in the mirror gets me worked up again, but at least I'm not so close to cumming now!

Stopping to take the time to wet my diaper, I hold my skirt up as I watch myself make the padding swell and the tint of the diaper change to a darker shade.  I press the front inward, feeling the warmth against my skin. What kind of freak do I have to be to enjoy this shit?

I put that thought out of my mind. 

Searching the room for the discarded dildo, I find it in the corner of the room before sitting down at my desk and plopping the rubber dick down on the surface in front of me.

It doesn’t take me long to find some porn to watch. I’ve recently discovered “FPOV” blowjob videos where, instead of it being from the male perspective looking down at someone sucking his dick, you get the girl’s perspective. Which means I get to watch the dick enter in and out of ‘my’ mouth. A front row seat to a big, sloppy blowjob. 

I put my headphones on so I can get the real experience. Following the girl on screen as she moves back and forth over the big, black dick. 

“You’re such a good little cocksucker!” a woman’s voice says.

Oh! This one has a voiceover. Someone degrading me and instructing me while I suck a dick? Yes please.

“Take it in your mouth! Deeper…deeper…”

I rub the front of my diaper, feeling my absolutely throbbing cock even through the pissy padding. ‘MMmphhing’ all over the dick in my mouth, making sure to keep it nice and wet.

“This is your purpose…this is what you were made for…”

I suck and slurp, the diaper crinkles and shifts. This is so hot!

“Men are going to use you…fuck your little whore mouth for their pleasure…”

“You are meant to worship perfect, huge, juicy cock!” 

“Suck him sissy! Suck him faster!”

I moan with the rubber dick in my mouth as I follow the voice’s instructions. The woman on screen was ‘mmming’ and ‘mmmphing’, but I was doing it louder. She spat on the dick, so did I. She stroked it with her saliva. So did I. 

“Do you feel like a little slut for him?”

I do.

“His little mouth whore?”

Yessss.

“He’s going to use your lips like a fleshlight.”

Whatever you sayy.

“You want his cum so fucking bad don’t you??”

The girl on the screen was moaning desperately, hungrily. Oh wait…that’s me.

“He’s going to cum! He’s going to cum!”

Oh god…I’m gonna cum. I need to stop–oh! Oh no…

I curse myself as I feel my body start to spasm. A new warmth fills the inside of my diaper. I can feel all my horniness leaving with it.

No! Not yet!! I whine at no one in particular. I had a whole day planned…and now it’s ruined. 

I hate how easily it tends to happen. I can’t get far into my regime at all without immediately blowing it….literally.

I feel like crying, but I don’t want my mascara to run. The plug immediately loses all of its appeal. I huff and puff as I rip the tapes of the diaper off, seeing my immense and gooey load making strings when the front flap flops open. I sit up a bit and yank the plug out a little harder than I intended, tossing it across the room.  

Plopping myself back down, the diaper feels cool and clammy now. Still, I reason, there’s no sense in wasting it, diapers are expensive, and the good thing about these BunnyHopps is they have the hook and loop tapes, which means I can put it right back on…even if it’s not nearly as fun now.

I check through the window again to make sure Max’s car isn’t out front before I head into the kitchen to make something to eat. I bring it back to my room, closing the door, and then closing it again after it doesn’t stay shut. 

Firing up my rig, I pull up League of Legends and start playing a few matches. I feel like one of those E-girls, dressing kind of skimpy and playing video games for boys’ attention. I don’t even have to get up to pee between matches, just get to release it all into my diaper. This is the life.

At around 2 o’clock, I feel the urge to use the bathroom in a different way. I sigh, knowing it’s the end of my diaper time. I head to the restroom to do my business, but stop before I get to the door. 

Actually, why don’t I just do it right here? Right now? After all, I am in a diaper. I don’t usually mess because Max is always here, but I have the house all to myself, and this diaper is on its last leg anyway. Why not? I’m allowed to treat myself, even if it's probably the weirdest way one would do so. 

I’ve always found it a bit awkward to poop in a diaper. How does one do it? Do you stand? Surely not. Do you sit? That seems messy, but I guess that’s kinda the point…I decide to squat down and handle it that way. 

It doesn’t happen immediately. I sit there awkwardly thinking about what someone would say if they saw me in this position.

“D’awwww!! Is the wittle baby making a pushy poo?? Hmm? Are joo making a big ‘ole mess for Mommy?”

The thought of that gives me a stirring in a different part of my diaper. I imagine myself surrounded by a group of beautiful women, forced to dirty my diaper in front of them while they all point and laugh.

“Stinky poo! Stinky poo! Now you’re going doo doo!!”

“Suck your thumb, loser!!”

I put my thumb in my mouth. I suck it while I grunt and push.

“A grown man dumping in a DIAPER!”

“Man? Looks like a sissy slut to me!”

I can actually see myself blushing in the mirror while the diaper sags under the weight of my warm mush that’s filling it.

“He did it! He did it!” the imaginary girls clap.

I can see my penis poking through the pampers. 

“And he LIKED it!”

“Show us how much you like it, loser!”

“Sit in your stinky seat!!”

I sit back on my butt and feel the mush spread inside. It’s sickening and feels yucky, but the girls love it.

“Bouncy bouncy baby!!”

I bounce on the floor, squishing the mess even more, sucking my thumb and making pathetic little noises as I slip into little space.

“Goo goo ga ga sissy girl!!”

I’m drooling on my thumb while the other is rubbing the front of my mushy diaper. I’m glad Max isn’t home to hear the ridiculous sounds I'm making. 

“I think he wants to MAKE a goo goo in his diapy!” The girls all laugh. Emma Watson, Kate Beckinsale, Natalie Portman, they’re all here. “On the floor! It’s time for dumpy humpies!!”

Someone also tells me to get my ‘big boi binky’. I grab the dildo off my desk and put it on the floor in front of me.

“Sucky sucky while you fucky fucky!!” 

I’m a mess in every sense of the word. Drooling all over the dick, wiggling back and forth in my defiled diaper, grinding against the ground, skirt, hair, make-up all disheveled.

The girls are clapping their hands and chanting. Goo GOO! Goo GOO! Goo GOO!

It feels so good, being a dirty little diaper bitch…I’m gonna…I’m gonna…

Beep!

Panic. Was that a car horn? No, a truck horn. Max’s truck. The sound it makes when it’s locking. He’s here.

I rush to the window, my destroyed diaper plopping side to side with every step. I peek through the blinds again, scanning the yard.

Nothing. No one in the driveway, no sign of Max.

Another sigh of relief. It’s hard to enjoy myself when I’m constantly on edge that I'll be caught. Sure, I’m in my room, but the stench alone could probably alert the neighbors. I check to see if I even came. 

Oh…yea..definitely did. But I don’t remember the orgasm. Shame. I’m overcome with shame and disgust again, and now I’m walking around in my own filth.

I carefully remove the diaper, trying to make sure the defecation doesn’t get on my skirt. In hindsight, I should have removed the skirt before opening the diaper, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. Now I've got a literal mess on my hands. I use one of my palms to cradle the diaper while using my other hand to keep my skirt from sticking to the filth on my backside. I carefully place the diaper down so I can use both of my hands to unzip my skirt safely and take it ,and my crop top, off, tossing them both out of harm’s way.

Now I have other shit to deal with. I carefully roll up the diaper and tape the biohazard up into a ball. The thing is massive and plump, but still has its pinkish hue. I want to take it out to the dumpster, but being naked with a muddy butt isn’t exactly the right attire to do so.

This is why I don’t make messy diapers. I’m so bad at dealing with the cleanup.

I decide to set it all down and go take a shower. I make sure to close my door behind me, and step across the hall into the bathroom. The warm water feels good on my clammy skin. I use the sprayer to hose the filth off my bum, finally feeling clean again. I put the nozzle back in its holster above, but it falls with a loud clunk. But even after I caught it, the sound persisted.

Someone was at the front door. 

Not knocking. They just…walked in. I could tell by the clatter the screendoor makes when it shuts too hard, another thing I was supposed to fix…

Is that Max? Or is someone breaking in? Max shouldn’t be off of work yet, it’s only 3, and he always works until at least 5. 

I listen to the footfalls, turning the water off so I can get a better listen. The steps are hard, like those of work boots. Max’s boots. They stomp down the hallway past the bathroom I’m in, past my door, and then to his.

I shut my door, right?

Yes. I did. I made sure of it.

But what if he smells my disgusting diaper?

In a bit of a panic, I hop out of the shower, grab a towel, and make my way out into the hall.

“Hey,” I say, unable to keep the panic from my voice.

Max turns, a weird look on his face, “Hey.” he replies.

“You’re home early.” I say, sounding like an unfaithful housewife.

He scratches his beard and sighs, “Yea, the guys got what they needed done and we should be good to pass inspection tomorrow so I sent ‘em home.”

“Oh, okay, cool.” It was awkward. We’ve lived together for almost two years now and it’s never been this awkward. Probably because I’m making it awkward.

“Well, I’m gonna go take a nap.” He rubbed his eyes, maybe a little too much. 

“Alright then, see ya later.”

“Later.”

He went into his room and closed the door behind him. I hurried to mine, reaching for the handle. 

But it wasn’t there. The door was open. Wide open. And all my stuff was splayed across it in full, easy view. The skimpy skirt, the crop top with the word ‘SISSY’ plastered across it, a realistic dildo with my drool still dripping down it and, right in the center of the floor, my big giant disgusting diaper.

…Is there any chance he didn’t see all of that?

To Be Continued

#roomies

[bean-bean2000]

The Maid - Part 11

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, depression, mentions of suicide, despair, feeling trapped. Mentions of abuse and rape.

Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.

Thank you and enjoy!

Part 10

Series masterlist Main Masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wake to the sun shining in from the small square window and the caws of a raven.

Sitting up slowly, you head directly to the bathroom to bathe. No thoughts have crossed your mind as you’re functioning on autopilot.

You look at your reflection and see nothing. In the deepest parts of your mind you can hear the locked chest rattling and moving to get out, much like Pandora's box, but you push it further.

Not anymore. Just focus on your job. I can’t do this anymore. For your own sanity, push them out.

You get ready for the day and head out to your first destination: the King’s bedroom.

As you perform your duties, it feels as though you’re floating. The world around you seems hazy, almost as if somebody else is controlling your body as you watch through your eyes.

You’re cleaning the room robotically, as you move around sweeping and dusting. You hear nothing besides this constant deep buzzing.

Suddenly you feel a hand wrap around your forearm and makes you turn around. You show no reaction as you’re turned to face Loki, staring at you with squinted eyes.

He’s saying something but you can’t hear until you shake your head out of the haze and focus again. You curtsy low and address him “Hello, my king. How may I be of assistance?”

He stares at you, searching your eyes. “Are you well?” he asks.

“How do you mean, my king?” you reply stoically.

He can’t find that fire behind your eyes that used to burn with defiance, nor that snarkiness he loves to see when you challenge him. He only sees empty eyes staring back at him.

“What happened?” he demands rather than asking.

“I'm unsure what you are referring to, my king. I am simply doing my job, as your maid. I’m doing as you said, your highness. I know my place.” Your eyes look sunken and void of anything.

He frowns at your reply when you turn around and continue your work as he stares at you in confusion and worry.

He steps in front of you “Stop.”

You immediately obey “Yes, my king.” and you stand there waiting for his next order.

He continues to search your eyes, not understanding how a woman with such strong character, the woman he met a few days prior who would rather be beaten than to obey an order, suddenly accept a command so easily.

He sits you down on a chair and analyzes you. He can’t sense any foreign or dark magic on you. There is no curse he can identify. He’s bewildered by your drastic change in character, until he notices this dark purple aura surrounding your body. He doesn’t understand how he hadn’t felt the presence of this magic before, but he quickly realizes that it isn’t foreign. It’s coming from within you.

Thinking out loud he says "You're not supposed to have magic. How is this possible?"

Then, he remembers something his mother had told him years ago when he was a boy:

~~~

"Mother, what do the colours I see around people mean? Everybody has a different one. Why is that?" Young Loki asks.

"My son, those colours are called auras. Everybody has a different aura depending on their type of magic that they have and use. Sometimes, people may have dormant magic, subdued from years of being unused. Those auras, are much different, however. They are usually a deep orange, which can eventually turn into another colour when and if they start using their magic again." The Allmother explains to her eldest child.

"But what about dark purple? I was reading a book in the library that mentioned dark purple auras but I wasn't able to find any details about it." the curious boy questions.

"Dark purple? That is a very rare aura... one I have not seen since our last Great War, centuries ago. A dark purple aura happens when somebody born with magic, has suffered greatly. As a result, their magic is naturally subdued, because the most dangerous and volatile person is one who uses and grows their magic through hate and pain. The dark purple aura reflects the pain and trauma they've endured and almost acts as a warning to others. It is well known by all experts of magic that a dark purple aura cannot be cleared without the affected person healing themselves fully from their trauma." she explains.

"How do you heal them?"

"That is where the issue lays, my sweet boy. Over the years we have learned that this can only happen one way: True love and complete trust. It has been noted that the only thing that can break such pain, sadness and anguish, is unconditional love. Very few cases have been recorded where one with a dark purple aura has found such love and managed to free themselves and accept their true aura, stemming from their true, healed, self." she grabs ahold of her sons hand and guides him through her garden.

"This type of magic is the most powerful and the most difficult to attain as it is not really magic at all. Nobody can simply enchant another to fall in love. The love must be true. This means, it cannot be influenced by any unnatural forces. It cannot be forced or tricked, which is why it is the most difficult ailment to cure, unfortunately. Even more so as times passes because true love has lost its meaning over the years. No book or magical spell can tell you what true love is because there is no singular definition. For a mother, it may be the love she has for her child, for another it may be their significant other, or their sibling...It differs from person to person. Sometimes, an act of true love by the affected person themselves or the one that they love, can break the dark purple aura. Unfortunately, at times, those acts of unconditional love, are fatal; sacrificing yourself for another. True love is a very fragile and fickle thing. Extremely difficult to attain but very easy to break." she sighs sadly as she walks through the mazes of her garden.

Young Loki remained silent the rest of their walk, mind reeling trying to understand what true love really means.

~~~

At that moment he decides to do the one thing he promised himself he would never do without one’s consent.

He places two fingers on your forehead, and you feel a tingle as he begins to read your mind and replay your memories. He starts from last night, with the intention of going back as far as possible to understand who you really are.

When he begins, he can see the box of emotions hidden deep within your subconscious, locked with chains and kept hidden well beyond. He replays your memories in your room and the bathroom.

He pulls back in surprise. “How did you do that?” he asks you.

You do not reply to him and stare blankly through him.

"But... if your magic is supposedly dormant, how are you able to dissociate yourself and psychologically lock your emotions away?... Can I reverse it?" he asks himself, thinking out loud.

He taps once again into your memories and chases after the locked chest hidden in the furthest part of your mind. As he begins to approach it, it moves again, further away every time. Finally, Loki decides to try halting it in its spot with his magic. When he tries to do so, a sudden intense wave of fire scorches around him. Confused, he touches it and to his surprise, he can feel the heat from the fire within your mind. As he tries to step through, a phoenix emerges and screams as it flies at him. He feels the power of the phoenix throw him backwards and he inhales deeply as he staggers back on the table in his room. He's breathing heavily, heart racing as stares at you in disbelief.

What just happened? Did she throw me out of her mind? How is that possible... that has never happened... Who are you?

"May I resume my work, my king?" you asks monotonously.

Loki shakes his head incredulously and waves his hand in the air "Yes, yes, continue. I must take my leave."

He quickly walks to the door and looks behind his shoulder before leaving, watching you broom the floor as if nothing happened.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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#fanfic #marvel #angst #loki x reader #loki of asgard #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki series #loki #fluff #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #magic #asgardians

[vodika-vibes]

Cowboy Casanova

Summary: When you decided to move to the middle of nowhere to get some perspective in your life, you expect to be bored out of your mind. You definitely don’t expect Bacara.

Pairing: Commander Bacara x F!Reader

Word Count: 4123

Warnings: Smut, dom/sub dynamics, biting, hints of a breeding kink

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @dukeoftheblackstar @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things

A/N: This started out at one thing, turned into another, which turned into a third thing, and anyway it's now what it was supposed to be so I had to change the name, which makes me sad. The Original name was Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy. Anyway! I hope you like my sin. Also, this is a western au because...I don't have a reason other than Bacara with a cowboy hat. I'm sorry. Anyway, no requests got done today because of this. Note, this isn't edited - so if you see any errors, no you didn't.

“You’re staring,”

“Am not.” You reply absently as you drag your gaze across Bacara’s bare chest, your eyes lingering first on his dog tags and then on the nipple piercings that he got when he lost a bet.

He chuckles, low and deep, “You’re still staring.”

“If you don’t want to be stared at, then you should put on a shirt.” You counter, unrepentant.

Bacara arches a brow and flings a rag at your face, making you sputter and scrunch up your nose, “You wouldn’t say that if I was staring at you.”

“Of course not. Double standards are a thing after all.”

He rolls his eyes and walks over to you, leaning into your personal space as he picks up his rag again, a smug smirk crossing his face when your gaze drops to his chest and then his waist, before snapping back to his face, “See something you like, city mouse?”

Your face heats, but you keep your gaze locked with his, “Just worried that your pants are going to fall down since they’re hanging so low.”

“Fashion choice,” Bacara replies with a shrug, as he walks away from you and back over to the machine he’s trying to make work, “Besides, it’s hot as balls out here, and I hate the feel of my shirt sticking to my skin.”

Well, he’s not wrong about that.

Bacara leans back into the engine block and reaches in, “Why don’t you just pay someone to come and fix it?” You ask.

“You have the money for some repair man from the city to drive out here and fix this? Cause I sure as hell don’t.”

“You own, like, a dozen cows.”

“There are three dozen of them, actually.”

“That’s not the point that you think it is.”

He laughs and pulls back, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Come here, I need a small hand.”

“I don’t fix things, Bacara.” You warn, though you do hop off the bale of hay that you’ve been sitting on and walk over to him.

“You need to learn, city mouse. What happens if something breaks in your home?”

“Uh, I’ll call you.”

“What if I’m not available?”

“Why wouldn’t you be available?”

“Believe it or not, I don’t exist to come running at your beck and call.” Bacara replies dryly.

“What? Wow! Really?” You marvel sarcastically, and then you yelp when he pinches your side. “Rude!”

“Alright, Little Miss Sass, I need you to reach into there and feel around for any loose wires.” Bacara explains as he presses his chest against your back and points where he needs your help.

“Wires? I’m not going to get electrocuted, am I?” You ask as you try, really, really hard to not get distracted at the feel of him pressed against you.

He shoots you a look, “Of course not. It’s totally safe.”

“Fiiine.” You sigh out as you reach into the opening and feel around blindly, “Um...okay, I found a wire.”

“Excellent work,” His voice is low against your ear, and you can’t help but shiver. Embarrassingly, he notices and a quiet chuckle falls from him, “I need you to follow the wire and tell me if it’s connected on both ends.”

You ignore him, as best as you can, and feel around for a moment, “I...think so? It doesn’t feel loose at least.”

“Damn, I was hoping you’d say the opposite. Alright, pretty girl. You’re done. This is now, officially, someone elses problem.”

You pull your hand out and make a face at the oil on your fingers, “I thought you didn’t want to pay-”

“I don’t, which is why I’ll have Neyo come and fix it.”

“Ripping off your own brothers, shame-”

“What are brothers for if not a little unpaid labor every now and then?” Bacara asks rhetorically, “Come on, you can come inside and get that stuff off your hand.” He picks his hat up off his work table, and pauses before setting it on his head.

He shoots you a small smirk, and drops his hat on your head, it immediately tilts over your eyes, and you use the back of your hand to tilt the rim back so you can look at him, “Well, how do I look?” You ask with a small grin.

Bacara lazily drags his gaze across your body, his smirk growing, “Hot as hell,” He drawls.

Your face heats again. Still, you’re not able to stop the delight from sliding across your face, “Well, thank you~”

He stares at you for a moment longer, and then motions for you to follow him. It’s kind of unnecessary, you could navigate Bacara’s ranch blindfolded and drunk, but you do appreciate being able to walk with him.

After you get yourself cleaned up, which takes a lot longer than you anticipated since the oil just did not want to come off your hands, you meander from the guest bedroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen.

He’s still not wearing a shirt, and you’re beginning to think that he’s walking around like that intentionally. “Did you manage to get the oil off?” Bacara asks as he turns to face you.

“Yeah, eventually. The bottle of special soap was empty, so I had to make some more real quick.” You shrug easily as you sink into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. You don’t mind, you normally make it for him anyway.

Your parents would be so proud. Thousands of credits spent on a fancy Chem degree...and you use it mixing oil removing soap.

“Sorry about that, I should have checked earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You fold your legs under you, and your attention lands on something interesting on the table.

Now. Bacara is a rancher, there’s always new and interesting things laying around his house that he needs to explain to you. Over the year that you’ve been friends with him, you’ve learned a lot about ranching and about the things that he needs to do his job well.

This, however, is new.

“Bacara?” You sound slightly bemused as you reach across the table and hook a finger under, surprisingly silky, maroon rope, “What’s this for?” You ask as you turn your gaze to him.

Unless your eyes are deceiving you, there’s a hint of a blush on his face.

“It’s a joke gift. From Cody.” Bacara replies as he walks over to the table and picks up the rope, only to hesitate for a moment, “Although-” he murmurs quietly, as if to himself, as he pulls some of the rope out and lays it across your wrist, “It would look amazing wrapped around your wrists.”

You tilt your head and your mouth is slightly dry, you’re pretty sure that his comment was meant to be an inside thought, not an outside one, but it’s not like you can unring that bell.

“I think it’d look better wrapped around yours.” You blurt, and his gaze snaps to meet yours, “The color would look amazing against your skin tone.” You add, sheepishly.

He stares at you, and you stare right back at him.

And just as you’re about to apologize, Bacara smirks.

“Alright.”

You blink at him, “Alright?”

“Alright. Lets see what you’re capable of.”

You blink at him again. And then a third time as his words process, “Wait! Really?”

“Really. Unless you think you can’t handle it.”

“I can handle it,” You shoot back, “The question is can you?”

He folds his arms across his broad chest, “Let’s make this a little more fun-”

“-more fun then you getting tied up?”

His grin is predatory and sharp, “I don’t beg. Ever. For anyone.” He advances on you, “However, if you can make me beg in say...an hour, you win this little challenge and I’ll do whatever you want for a week.”

“You already do whatever I want, Bacara.” You point out.

“Unimportant.” He replies, “But when you lose-”

“-if. If I lose-”

His gaze locks with yours and his grin becomes even more predatory, “When you lose,” Bacara repeats, “I get two hours to make you beg for me, and when I win you’ll do whatever I want for a week.”

“Hold on now! How come you get two hours and I only get one?” You demand.

“Because I’m going to spend the first hour with my face buried in your pussy, that’s why.”

Your entire thought process screeches to a halt as your train of thought derails. “...oh.”

“So what do you say, city mouse? Do we have a deal?”

And, really, there’s only one thing you can say to that, “Deal.”

Bacara advances on you again, essentially crowding you, as he walks you through his home and into his bedroom. His eyes a glittering with arousal, but he doesn’t touch you, as much as you can tell that he wants to.

He kicks the bedroom door shut and turns on the lamp so there’s some light in the room, and then he folds his arms and waits.

You gaze at him thoughtfully, a small smile on your lips, “You’re wearing too much. Strip.”

His gaze is hot as it lingers on your face, “Yes ma’am,”

You consider watching him strip for a moment, but instead turn to the bed and start setting up the rope, while pulling out your phone to look up safe ways to tie him up.

“Alright,” You murmur to yourself as you make sure the ropes are secure around the bed frame, and you climb off the bed to focus your attention on him, “Pick a position that’s comfortable for you, Bacara.” You say as you carefully don’t take your eyes off his face.

“Not even gonna steal a peek, kitten?” Bacara asks, as he moves passed you and settles on the bed, with his back pressed against the headboard.

“I lady doesn’t peek, Bacara,” You sniff.

“Oh? Do they tie up their friends.”

“I can leave you know.”

He laughs and grabs your wrist to tug you onto the bed, you tumble against him, your hands settling on his shoulders, as he reaches around you to settle his hand on the back of your neck, “I want you to look, kitten. After all, I need to know if I meet your approval.” You have to shift to get more comfortable, eventually straddling his thigh so you’re not twisted uncomfortably.

You roll your eyes, but slowly drag your gaze down his chest, a nearly silent sigh of delight falling from you when you see that he’s still wearing his dog tags. Bacara chuckles lowly, and you hurriedly continue your visual perusal of the man beneath you.

He’s solid, your Bacara. Oh sure, he has a belly, but you’re pretty sure that he’s solid muscle, like the professional weight lifters you used to know in college. Big, beefy, and could lift you with one arm if he was so inclined.

Absently you trail your fingers down his chest, teasingly skirting around the nipple piercings, and down his stomach, and then your gaze lands on his cock.

Already erect and with precum leaking from the head.

He’s gorgeous.

But that’s not what catches your attention. No. What catches your attention is the golden piercings.

You blink at the piercings dumbly for a moment. “Holy shit Bacara.” You blurt, “Why didn’t you say that you had cock piercings?”

“Not really something that comes up in polite conversations,” He counters with a grin.

“But...If I had know then my-” You cut yourself off before you finish the thought, and you snap your gaze to his face, “Never mind.”

“Oh no, you definitely need to finish that thought, kitten.” Bacara practically purrs, “Come on, your what?”

“Nope. Not going there.” You shift your weight slightly, and reach down to grab his wrist, but Bacara doesn’t let you move it. “Really?”

He smirks, “Tell me, and I’ll let you tie me up.”

“Don’t you automatically lose if you don’t let me even try?” You try to bargain.

His smirk widens, “No, because I saw that look on your face. You want my face in your pussy.”

Damn him for being right.

“Fine,” You drag the word out, “I might have fantasized about you before. Maybe.”

He smirks smugly, “Knew it. Alright, you may continue.”

“I’m pretty sure that I’m supposed to be the one in control right now.” You counter, even as you bring his hand to the headboard and carefully loop the rope around his wrist.

Bacara hums and his still free hand comes up to caress your hip, “Oh, kitten. I need you to understand that I’m letting you do this. But I need you to know that I’m the one in control here, not you.”

Your fingers slip on the rope, “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that for the sake of the challenge.” You finally say once you finish with your knot, “How’s that? Too tight?”

Bacara tugs at the rope experimentally, “Good enough.” He finally says, as he lifts his other hand to the headboard.

You’re a lot faster this time, now that you know what you’re doing, and you sit back on your heels as you look at him. “I was right,” You finally say as you climb off of him so you’re able to peel your own clothes off.

“Bout what?” Bacara asks as he watches you strip with hungry eyes.

“That color does look amazing against your skin.”

He hums his understanding, tilting his head so he’s able to watch you push your shorts and panties down your legs. “I can just about guarantee that it’s going to look much better against yours.”

You set your clothes on a chair and climb on the end of the bed, settling yourself between his feet.

Bacara looks completely relaxed, and you’re beginning to accept that he was right, he is the one in control here, as much as it might seem like you are. “Just gonna sit there and stare at me, kitten?” He drawls.

“I’m thinking.”

“Do you need some direction?” He offers, “Because I can do that.”

“I’m not giving up yet, Bacara.” You counter as you slide up so that you’re better able to reach him, your fingers feather light as you glide them across his thigh.

His muscle twitches under your touch, “Yet, huh.” Bacara says with a small smirk, “Good to know.”

Finally fed up with his comments, you surge up and crash your lips against his. Your hands wander across his chest, lightly flicking his piercings, as you trail your tongue across his lower lip.

You’re almost surprised when he takes control of the kiss.

Almost.

He catches your lower lip between his teeth, and nips you roughly enough that a squeak falls from you. Bacara then soothes the sore spot with a lazy swipe of his tongue, and the moment you part your lips for him, his tongue slides against your own.

He maps out your mouth with a single minded intensity that leaves you moaning, and encourages you to straddle him again. When you break the kiss, you’re slightly breathless, and his gaze is dark as is slides across your face.

“You should give up, kitten.” Bacara purrs.

You shake your head, “I can still win.”

He laughs, “You’re already straddling me, and we haven’t done much more than kissing.”

“That-”

“I’ll make you feel so good, kitten.” He purrs as he tugs his wrist once, causing the knot to unravel. He presses his hand against the small of your back, and pulls you closer, and you shiver when you feel his hard erection pressed against you.

Unthinkingly, you grind against him, the head of his cock pressing deliciously against your clit and a moan fall from your lips as you do so.

His arm hooks tightly around your waist, and he pulls you closer so that he’s able to trail his lips against your throat, “Say you give up, kitten. And I’ll give you exactly what you need.”

Your lips turn down into a small pout.

“We can try this again later,” He promises, very temptingly, “After you’ve had some time to prepare properly.”

You peer at him, and then release a heavy sigh, and reach up to untie his other hand, “This isn’t me giving up.”

“Of course not.” Bacara agrees, suspiciously easily, “But, it is you forfeiting, which means it’s my turn.”

You squeak as he flips you so that you’re under him, smoothly using one hand to pin your hand over your head and tying them together and to the headboard.

Bemused, you tug on the ropes, but there’s no give whatsoever, “How-”

“Practice. I’ll teach you properly for next time.”

“...this game was designed for me to lose from the get go, wasn’t it.”

He grins and leans over you, his lips hovering just over yours, “Good girl, I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

“You’re a dick.”

“Not gonna deny that.” He replies before he kisses you deeply, but quickly.

And then he’s moving down your body, biting marks into the soft skin of your neck and throat, across your collar, and down your chest. You squirm and writhe under his attention, biting your lower lip to keep yourself quiet.

He takes a quick moment to lavish your nipples with attention, before he’s moving again. At this, you’re unable to keep yourself from gasping out his name, and you feel his lips curl up into a smile against your breast.

Bacara litters your stomach and sides with possessive marks and then he leaves a trail of bite marks from your hip to your thighs. By this point, you’re a moaning mess, you don’t care if this means that he wins, you just don’t want him to stop.

And only then, when he’s sure that you’re covered in his marks, and when you’re whining for him, does he spread your legs to make room for himself between your thighs.

“Look at you,” Bacara praises lightly as he drags a single finger between your folds, a pleased smirk crossing his face as your hips twitch towards him, “You’re already wet. Do you have a biting kink, kitten?”

Your face burns at his words, and you stubbornly press your lips together to not say anything.

Bacara clicks his tongue, and his hand lands, heavily, on your outer thigh. It surprises you more than it hurts you, and you blink at him wide eyed, “I asked you a question.”

You know what he wants to hear. Even though you’re so horny that you almost can’t stand it. Even though his large, calloused finger is circling your clit in a way that is kind of driving you insane. You still know what he wants to hear.

What he’s expecting to hear.

Your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips, and you plaster on your most innocent expression, “Did you?” You ask, slightly breathlessly as you clench around nothing from his teasing, “I wasn’t listening.”

Bacara stops. His fingers stop moving, and his hand, which was caressing your thigh and the red mark blooming there, stops moving as well. He searches your face for something, and then a slow smirk crosses his lips.

“Safe word or color?”

Your heart racing with excitement, you breath out, “Color.”

He hums, “What color are you?”

“Green.” You blurt, “Very green.”

For a moment, there’s a glimmer of something warm and soft on his handsome face, before it’s gone. “So, it sounds like you are able to listen.”

“When I want to.”

“Then it sounds like I just need to teach you that you need to listen to me, doesn’t it?”

You feel a thrill of delight, “If you ever said anything worth listening to-” You words get cut off with a ragged moan as he suddenly thrusts a finger into your pussy and curls it, almost instinctively finding the spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.

“I’m going to tell you how this is going to go,” Bacara says, a hint of promise in his voice, “I’m going to give you as many orgasms as I want, you are only allowed to cum when I allow it.” He eases his finger out of your pussy, and licks it clean with an appreciative hum, “And, if you don’t obey me, I’ll have to punish you.”

“Punish?” You ask.

He just smirks, “Do you understand? Answer verbally.”

“I understand,”

“Good girl,” He gives himself a couple of lazy strokes as he examines your splayed out body appreciatively. “I did say that I was going to bury my face in your pussy, didn’t I.” He muses, loud enough that you’re able to hear him, “But I don’t think you’ve earned that.”

That pulls an unhappy noise from your lips, and he chuckles, “Only good girls get to have their pussy eaten, and you haven’t been a good girl.” He releases your legs, letting them fall back to the bed, before he reaches up to check the ropes one more time, and then flips you, making sure that the ropes didn’t twist in such a way to hurt you. “There we go,” Bacara murmurs as he smooths his hand over your ass and then squeezes roughly

You squirm under him, but settle when you feel his hand press against your lower back. He quickly eases a pillow under your hips and adjusts your legs so that you’re spread wide for him.

He doesn’t touch you for a moment, though you can feel his heavy gaze dragging against you body. Just as you start to squirm, a little self conscious about being so exposed, his hands are on you again.

His hands are calloused and heavy on your body, and you’re sure you’re going to have bruises from his hands covering your body, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care as his hands press into you.

And then you don’t care about anything as the blunt head of his cock presses against you. Slowly he eases inch after inch inside you, and you’re squirming and whining before he’s even halfway sheathed.

The piercing feels amazing inside you, and you find yourself clenching around him.

Bacara groans and bites down on the back of your neck, “No cumming, kitten.” He warns as he slowly pushes the rest of the way in. As soon as he’s bottomed out, he presses a light kiss to the mark on the back of your neck.

He doesn’t move for a moment, and then he slowly eases out, until only the head of his cock is inside you. Bacara waits a beat, until you squirm to try and get him to move again, and then he thrusts in hard and fast.

He keeps the rapid pace, his breath hot against your ear, his hand fisted in your hair to keep your head down.

The sensations of his hand in your hair, and low groans in your ear, adding to the amazing feeling of his piercings dragging against your walls and the delicious stretch of his cock, are too much to handle.

And try as you might, you’re not able to keep yourself from cumming with a cry of his name.

You feel him laugh, “That’s punishment 1, kitten.”

“Not my fault-” You gasp, “Feels too good.”

“Oh? What’s that? Harder you said?” Bacara asks, as he adjusts himself slightly, before he leans in and catches your earlobe between his teeth. Before he does exactly as he warned, thrusting hard enough that you release a noise that is something between a moan and a sob of sheer pleasure.

“Good girl,” Bacara purrs, “You’re taking me so well.” He smooths his hand up your spine, “Such a willing little thing,” He coos in your ear, “I’m going to ruin you, kitten.” He catches your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue sliding against yours.

“Please,” You whisper, “Please ruin me.”

For half a moment, Bacara’s hips stutter, and he releases a deep groan. “Oh, princess. Gladly.” He pulls out completely, pulling a disapproving whine from your lips and then he flips you back onto your back, before he thrusts back into you hard and fast. “I’m going to stuff you full of my cum, princess.” He promises, “Over and over and over, until I’m good and done.”

“Cara-” You whine his name as you arch against him as best as you can.

“So, be my good girl and take all of me,” He orders as he leans in and catches your lips in a passionate kiss, “Be my good girl, and I’ll ruin you.” He promises, his gaze dark.

And, really, how can you do anything other than obey him after that promise.

#star wars #tcw #star wars au #commander bacara x reader #bacara x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #18+ fic #nsft

[sociopathicartist]

“vanilla?”

“No.”

“lavender?”

“No!”

“i give up.” Sans tossed his hands up in defeat, falling back onto the couch to sink into.

You rolled your eyes, lighting up a tea light candle you had and setting it on the coffee table. “You only guessed two times. It’s coconut.”

“how the hell was i supposed to guess coconut? we aren’t in hawaii, babe.” He complained, unamused by the scent of your candles.

There had been a power outage about an hour ago due to the storms outside. While you weren’t scared of the storms you did happen to be a bit scared of your entire house being pitch black, so you turned on the flashlight to your phone and started setting out tea light candles everywhere in your house. You saved them up since power outages happened a lot during the stormy summer weather.

As you had been lighting up the kitchen, your boyfriend suddenly appeared. You freaked out and almost whacked him across the skull with the lighter, which he backed up and tried to ease your freak out with a simple ‘ let’s not get things too heated, babe. ‘

Naturally, he was very amused by how you had managed to light up almost every main area in your house with little candles. He kept wandering around your house to see all the lights and would blow one or two out to annoy you, but stopped after that. Now he was just occupying himself with asking random questions while you were putting the candles out, like what their scent was.

“okay okay, you get to be alone with me for the whole week or get one dinner with ryan gosling.” Sans questioned, waving his hand up at the ceiling while he spoke.

You sighed as you placed two more candles on your TV stand. “You already know my answer. You, obviously. Even before dating you, I wasn't appealed much at the thought of dating a man.”

Sans snorted, a small twinge of blue coming up on his face. “awww, really? i guess you’re really into skeletons, you necrophile.”

“Human fetish.”

“maybe. me personally, i would choose ryan gosling.”

You turned around to walk over to him on the couch, setting the lighter down on the coffee table. “You’re a big liar and you know it. Now move or be moved.”

Sans chuckled and sat up, scooting a bit to the side as you wormed your way next to him on the couch. The layout didn’t work at first, and you both exchanged an awkward look before you moved to sit in between his legs, your back resting against his ribs. His arms rested over your chest, his mandible sitting on the top of your head. Comfortable.

“you know, i’m not critiquing your choices here, but you lit up the whole house when we won't be anywhere but the living room and bedroom,” Sans spoke to you, his voice lowered down to an attractively quiet tone which only assisted with how correct his words were.

You shook your head, your hands going to rest over his. Why did he have his mittens on right now? “Nuh-uh. Who said I was taking you up to my bedroom?”

Sans scoffed, but you could tell he was being facetious. “i was meaning to sleep, you perv.”

“Sure you were. And my candles my choices, pal. You showed up out of nowhere and choose to sit here and make fun of me for being scared of the dark.” You paused your complaints, leaning forward a bit to turn your head and look back at him. “Why did you come over here out of nowhere again?”

Sans took one of his hands off your chest, bringing it up to brush some hair out of your face while he spoke to you. “just thought you’d want the company. i know you don’t like the dark, and paps is sleeping anyway.”

You smiled and leaned your face into his hand, a bit glad he was thinking of you. There wasn’t a moment where he wasn’t, but it still made you happy nonetheless. “It was a very nice surprise. I’m glad you showed up to protect me from the hallway demons.”

There was an attempt from Sans to run his hand through your hair while he listened to you, but since he had his mittens on it was just slipping over the top of your head and making your hair all staticky. He found it a bit amusing to do even after you tried batting his hand away.

“you didn’t need to light the candles you know.” He suggested another solution, successfully nagging your attention.

You know him well enough for it to only take 3 seconds to realize what he was getting behind.

“i have something that glows.” He was holding back laughter, partially from his upcoming joke and partially because of your expression.

“Shaddap. You come over to my house and make disgusting jokes. How sick.” You moved your head away from his hand, trying to pat down the static he was causing.

Sans’ hand kept trying to rub on your hair, his mitten charged up with electric static now.

He snickered, both his hands cupping your face to make you look at him. “deez nuts.”

“Out of my house.” You let him hold onto your face, enjoying the little shenanigans he was up to.

He didn’t answer back with a witty pun or joke, instead just pulling you down to rest your head on his chest. “there there. it must be so hard having such a hilarious boyfriend.”

“No.” You wrapped your arms around him in an attempt to snuggle into his embrace.

It was hard to cuddle up to him sometimes because he was always shifting around or letting his hands roam on you until you had to call him out to stop so that you could both go to sleep. Unless he was sleeping or pretending to sleep, he seemed to have a difficult time staying in one place for too long. Sometimes though, you’d catch him after he had an exhausting day and you’d both just hold each other in comfortable silence, not moving an inch or saying a word for hours. Those were some of your favorite days.

“Sans?” You called out his name after a few minutes of quiet.

“yeah, babe?” He answered immediately, one of his hands gently rubbing up and down your back while the other petted your hair.

You thought for a few moments about your question. “How did you first know when you liked me?”

Sans inhaled deeply. He loved asking and answering these silly little romance questions with you, but sometimes it was difficult to find the correct words for an answer.

“i just knew. i looked over to you and the realization hit me. there were no second thoughts or doubts about it.”

You stared at the wall for a few moments, your thumb rubbing small circles on the back of his vertebrae just above the hood on his jacket. Your candles were starting to burn out. You needed to light up new ones in a bit.

You kept your voice quiet to match his, acting as if speaking too loud would break the moment. “Do you remember when it was?”

“oh, yeah.” His smile tugged up a bit on the ends, his genuine smile showing through at the thought of the memory. “you want me to tell you about it so that i can gush over you?”

“Yes, please.”

“okay, uhhh,” He paused before recapping his memory with you. “you were at my house. in my room to be more specific. i was showing you through one of my video games since you hadn’t played it before, but i was kinda off that day.”

It was weird to him to think about because he didn’t remember why he wasn’t feeling well that day, or what video game he was showing you. He just remembered you.

“you somehow noticed, and you asked me what was up. whenever i told you nothing was up except for the ceiling, you told me to stop lying. you said you could tell by the way my voice sounded, and how my smile drooped down just a tad. i don’t even remember if i ended up answering you, but i know i was quiet for a while. nobody had ever uh… ever seen me like that before.”

You listened to him speak. His hands had stopped moving around on you entirely, just resting on the small of your back comfortably. “Yeah?”

“yeah. i don’t know why it was like that, but it was like i was dragged out of the little reality in my head where i was noticed by everyone but not noticed enough to be cared about like that. and the worry in your voice. you just looked like a different person in that moment and from then on. it was like i saw you clearly after looking through fogged glass.”

Sans always had a really good use of his words whenever he chose to use them instead of being silly. This was one of those moments where you were fully convinced that you could listen to him talk for hours.

“I love you.”

“i love you too.”

You weren’t sure if the rush of being able to tell him that you loved him and having him respond with such little hesitation would ever go away. Sans wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to it either.

All your candles had begun to burn out since they were just little tea lights, leaving you and Sans to succumb to a slow progression of darkness.

His voice broke the silence first, as it usually did. He always had lots of things to say to you. “all your candles are burning out, babe. you wanna light up some more? the power probably won't come back on for the rest of the night.”

The power probably wouldn’t come back on for a while, he was right. “Why don’t we just go to bed? It seems like a waste to light everything again when it’s so late at night, and I know you’re tired.”

“up to bed?” His voice took back a joking tone, and you braced yourself for the devious intentions behind his words. “no need for a candle, i know something that glows, hehe.”

“Sans… Don’t say it. It doesn’t get funnier the more that you say it.”

“deez nuts in your face.”

thanks for reading:3 it’s been storming really bad down where i live, so i wanted to write a little drabble for it. uploads might be a bit slow since finals during school r catching up to me, sorry! have a lovely night:)

#undertale #undertale au #undertale alternate universe #sans #sans undertale #sans x reader #classic sans #sans x you #sap #sans headcanons #sans one shot

[bambi-slxt]

🤍𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ~ 𝐩𝐭. 𝐭𝐰𝐨🤍

𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

previously titled Talk Dirty

word count: 1.5k

genres/tropes: romance, dealer!chris, sturniolo au, slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers

teaser: here

pt. one: here

warnings: drug usage, alcohol consumption, guns mentioned and used (non-sexual context), smut, mature themes and topics

notes from bambi: this is a multi-part series, and updates will be sporadic.

Cassandra's POV:

I smacked my hand over my gaping jaw. Oh my god, I took a patron to the bathroom and practically ripped his shirt off. I’m going to lose my job for sure now.

Christopher reached gently for my arm, shushing the apologies that once again began to flood my lips. “Easy,” He closed my hand between both of his and looked me in my teary eyes. “None of that. Your intentions were pure, I’m certain of it.”

I nodded, ripping my gaze away as the tears slipped down my cheeks. “I really fucked this up. I’m so sorry.” I swiped furiously at my traitorous eyes before noticing the…oh FUCK- “Your shirt!” It was soaked. What the fuck is he supposed to wear now?

Christopher sighed, and then many things happened all at once. He took both of my wrists, gathered them into one hand, pulled my arms above my head, and pressed me up against the cold marble tile in one fluid, lightning-quick motion. “Please remain calm.”

As his nose hovered inches above mine, there’s no way he could have missed my heaving chest, darting eyes, and parted lips. The absurdity of the whole situation struck me like an oncoming semi-truck and I let out a most unlady-like snort. His mouth twitched. It’s contagious.

I couldn’t help it–I broke loose into a laugh. He let go of my arms and joined my witch-like cackling with guffaws of his own. My chest began to ache as I swallowed breath after breath just to giggle them back out, and those soon turned akin to a howl of paradoxical laughter.

Christopher braced himself against the countertop, shaking his head with that smile. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.”

“No, I am, I really needed to…yeah.”

He pulled himself onto the counter, long legs whispering over the cold floor even as they hung there. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Christopher gestured to the empty bathroom.

“People will talk,” I replied. Pulling his dripping shirt from the sink, I gave it a once over and hung it over one of the stall doors. In the dim blue light, it looked almost stainless. 

“You’re funny, Miss Cassie.”

“Thank you…Mr. Christopher.” I flashed my eyes to him to see his reaction. A small smile. Not bad.

“What were you guys celebrating? With the champagne?”

Christopher leaned against the mirrored wall above the sinks and counter.

Christopher's POV:

I paused and wondered how much information I wanted to reveal to her. “A good week at work,” I settled on, hoping that would satisfy her. It seemed to. Cassandra nodded and hiked a leg up onto the counter, bending at the knee, twisting at the hip, and somehow contorting herself into–“That can’t be comfortable?”

She snickered. “It is. You can’t do this?”

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what it is I’m looking at.”

“It’s just, like…tucking one leg up under you to sit on, except I’m not sitting on it.”

“Somehow that makes less sense.”

Cassandra giggled again and something moved inside my chest. “Maybe you’re just not as…I don’t know, blessed as me.”

Oh I’m plenty blessed, Miss Cassie. I blinked. What the fuck? Calm down. “I’ll have to take your word for it.” I looked around for a moment. “I don’t suppose I meet the dress code anymore, do I?”

She looked at my shirtlessness and smiled sheepishly. “Negatory.”

“Looks like I’m stuck with you here then.”

Cassandra's POV:

I opened my mouth to respond, but at that moment my walkie tinged in my ear. “Cassandra, you have another party in Room 2!”

“Sorry, my–they need me to–shit, um–”

“Cassandra,” Christopher said quietly, interlocking his arms in front of his chest while another smile graced his features. “It’s okay. Go.”

“I’m sorry. Thank you.”

“It was good to meet you,” he said.

I grinned in spite of myself, turning and making my way out of the bathroom. “You too, Christopher.”

Christopher's POV:

I watched her leave in the mirror reflection. That has to be the most wholesome interaction I’ve had with a stranger in years. 

My phone vibrated and I tugged it out of my pocket, turning the screen towards me.

Matthew: That guy was just another drunk. What do you want security to do with him?

My brow furrowed into lines as I typed my response and pressed Send. I waited a moment for him to read it, and when he did, I considered the job done. Matthew had always been that way–steady, reliable, loyal to a fault. Nicolas carried the hot streak in the family, and probably the most Italian blood of us all. Though the oldest, Nicolas never felt the confidence in leadership that proved necessary to succeed in the line of work we engaged in. Matthew, on the other hand, lacked the social skills. All of us could be prickly, but they knew who took point in the important things. 

I hadn’t lied–we did come out tonight to celebrate. The elimination of competing products and markets is always cause for a party, in my opinion.

The door to the bathroom opened and a woman in a sparkly dress made her way inside. “Oh my,” she said at the sight of me.

“Sorry. Wine spill.” I indicated the button down drying on a stall door. 

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. Her eyes glazed over me, and my pants tightened. “I'm not the one who spilled on you but…” She stepped toward me, her heels clicking in response. “I could make it up to you anyway.”

I glanced at my phone to check the time, and at that moment, her hand traveled up the outside of my thigh.

Matthew can handle himself, I thought, and pulled her body into mine.

Cassandra's POV:

As the days passed, I found myself mulling over the events of my strange first night at the club. Christopher, his brothers and their friends (business associates?), the conversation in the bathroom, the incident where he held me up against the tile–I thought about it all.

A week came and went before I saw Christopher back at the VIP section, though it only took 24 hours for me to hear his name mentioned.

“Do you know what they're gonna do about the door?” my co-worker asked as I waited on the computer to load so I could clock in. “No clue. They said it may have to come out of my check.”

“Um. What?” She scrunched her face. “That’s fucked.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh, tapping my employee number on the screen. “But it is what it is, I guess.”

She shook her head. “Absolutely not. Hold on.”

My eyes widened watching her march to the back office. I'm cooked.

The wink she gave me afterward did little to clear things up. The club lit up with energy shortly after, and in my hurry to carry drinks, I didn't get a chance to ask her how her impromptu meeting with our manager went. Although, as it turned out, I didn't have to–he called me into the office himself.

“Do you remember the name of the man you spoke to before the door shattered?”

“Yes sir,” I said, “Christopher.”

“I see.” He leaned toward his computer screen and seemed to scour the contents displayed on it. “Says here, ‘Please accept our donation of twelve thousand dollars to be used toward the repair of one floor-to-ceiling glass door. Should there be overflow, please tip the remainder to Miss Cassandra, who kept us safe and comfortable. Signed, Christopher Sturniolo at Sturniolo LLC’. Whatever you did,” he said, leaning back in his chair with an air of pride, “Did us a lot of good.”

I smiled warily, unsure what this could mean for me. “Thank you..?”

“I appreciate your work, Cassandra. Keep it up. I’ll have your tip tonight after last call.” He went back to his computer, and I took that as my sign that I was dismissed. Pins and needles throttled through my midsection. How much money did I just get? Is this really happening? All the commotion of the club did little to drown out the torrential downpour of my thoughts, falling like rain–quick and formless upon impact.

After the last round of shots splashed into their weary glasses, I took my weary feet back to the office. 

“Cash or check?” my manager asked.

“Ch-check please,” I stammered. 

After a moment of scribbling, and a half-second to look it over, he handed the pale yellow slip across his desk into my hand. “I’ve got a copy just in case something goes wrong.”

“Thank you sir,” I breathed, holding the enormous sum in hand. “Thank you so much.”

“Don't thank me,” he waved absently, “Thank your Christopher Sturniolo.”

I hurried out of the office without another word, check clutched close to my chest. I couldn’t look at it for hours–ridiculous, I know. But the looking made it real.

Once I arrived home, I locked my door with fumbling hands, strode to my bedroom and tossed my bag on the mattress. Just deposit the damn thing. It’s not gonna bite you for god's sakes.

With an apprehensive sigh, I opened my wallet where I’d stuffed it earlier and out came the yellow slip, equal parts daunting and why am I afraid of a piece of paper?

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thank you for reading!

- bambi <3

#the sturniolos #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic smut #matthew sturniolo fanfic smut #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic smut #christopher sturniolo fanfic smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfic fluff #matthew sturniolo fanfic fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic fluff

[chocor0se]

excerpt from my reverse robins tim-centric au where tim dies and stephanie tries to kill the joker (it doesn’t work out)

Bruce couldn’t help it as he fell on his hands and knees, pain surging through his body. He needed to get to the Joker before he could recover, Tim would want him to focus on the mission.

He could barely move though, the paralyzation drug was still exiting his body. Bruce tried moving his hand so he could reach for his com and ask for backup(begrudgingly), when Spoiler came down from the previously broken skylight of the abandoned warehouse.

“Spoiler,” He said, voice raggedy, “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here.” Steph didn’t answer, her eyes focused on the Joker’s body as he slowly raised himself up. Shit, Bruce had to get to the Joker fast.

Bruce willed himself to his feet as Steph stared down at the Joker’s smiling face, and that’s when he saw what was in her hand. A gun.

“Spoiler, what are you doing?” He was ignored, again.

Steph slowly lifted the gun, preparing to shoot. The Joker grinned,

“Well well well, looks like one of your little bats has a screw loose, just like me!” The Joker could barely move, he was still on his knees and yet he smiled like he was the one in control here. “Well, do it Spoiler. Shoot me.”

Stephanie’s gaze turned violent, “You..you killed him. You killed my best friend,”

The Joker laughed at her rage, “I honestly expected better than the fight he put off, I guess the little bat was never really good at flying was he?”

“Shut up, shut up!” Spoiler yelled at him, “You killed him, so I’m returning the favor!” She released the safety.

“Spoiler!”

Bruce watched helplessly, his body still-though he didn’t know if it was from the drug or the shock-as he saw Steph aim, and fire.

BANG

The shot echoed throughout the building like a crash of thunder. The Joker staggered as he touched the bullet wound, straight through his right thigh. Even from a distance Bruce saw Steph’s shaking hands.

“Ha! Hahahahahah! I guess even you don’t have the guts to do it, kid,” The Joker giggled, “But seriously, what a show! The way you were so determined to kill me, and you don’t even-“

Black Bat appeared behind him suddenly, knocking the Joker out and handcuffing him. Bruce let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Cass walked up to Bruce, putting his arm over her shoulders to help him walk. He looked over to Spoiler, but she was gone.

The two bats looked at each other, then the Joker. The GCPD would take care of him, they had a bat to catch.

It took about an hour and a half, but they found her on a rooftop a few streets away. Barely anyone lived in the area, and even less worked there at night.

Steph was sitting on the ledge, her legs dangling over the roof. Her mask and hood were off, revealing the fragile girl underneath.

“Let me guess,” She said, as they had made their presence on the roof clear, “A lecture on why I have to keep the mask on at all times to protect my identity plus one about why we don’t kill?”

Bruce didn’t respond, he didn’t really know how to.

Cass did.

She walked up and sat on the ledge as well, pulling Steph in for a hug.

“Hugs make everyone feel better.”

“Not me.”

“…”

“..Maybe a little.”

Bruce walked closer to his two girls, placing a hand on Steph’s shoulder.

“I,” Steph started, “I wanted to kill him so bad. I was so ready to shoot him in the head, let him burn in hell. But Tim’s stupid voice kept ringing in my head,” She wiped her eyes with a broken smile on her face, “Bats don’t kill. Killing isn’t the right way to do things. He always followed the rules that he thought were right.”

Steph stood up, shrugging Cass away. She was trying not to cry, but tears kept spilling out of her eyes, “Why couldn’t I do it? He killed my best friend, I should’ve done it. I-I-“

Listen Bruce, I’m saying this because I’m dead now, so you won’t have me to help you with this. Please don’t close yourself off. People need you. Your…our family needs you. Don’t be the cold, emotionless Batman or the violent, angry one.

Be the one who took in Duke Thomas after his parents were jokerized, the one who took in Damian, and Steph and Cass and however more kids you’re gonna gain in the future. Please, Dad. I love you, meeting everyone was the best thing that ever happened to me. Goodbye.

Bruce took off his cowl, interrupting Steph’s sentence. And finally, he let himself cry with her. He saw Steph’s shock as the tears started dripping down his face. Tim’s death had broke him, but he would put himself back together for the ones that had broke alongside him.

He could see Steph’s walls break down, and she started bawling. Her face red as she screamed and cried and all Bruce could do was pull her in for a hug, and that was enough for now.

Cass joined them seconds later, her crying less violent but still noticeable. The three broken bats stayed like that for a while, just themselves and their tears accompanying them.

Later Steph would tell Bruce that she couldn’t be Spoiler anymore.

“I made Spoiler with him,” she would say, “And without him I don’t know if I could do it again. Don’t get me wrong though, I’ll still be a vigilante. Tim wouldn’t want me to quit because of him.”

“Then who will you be?” Bruce would ask her.

“…My favorite color’s purple, that’s why my costume’s purple. His favorite color was red.” She’d take a deep breath before continuing, “I’m going to become the Red Hood.”

Bruce would stay quiet a few seconds before replying, “Alright then. I will support you in whatever you need.”

And that’s how the Red Hood was born.

…

Far, far away, Timothy Drake-Wayne would kill his first person, and he would never be the same again.

#could be interpreted as timsteph #but i probably won’t write it intended that way #this is actually all i’ve written… #tim drake #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #cassandra cain #dc joker #reverse robins #reverse robins au #batfam #writing #fanfiction #robin #batman #red hood stephanie brown

[teddypickerry]

thinking about the missed opportunity that was supposed to be jess’s spinoff show and how we probably would’ve got a really cool love interest (or at least i hope, because no thirty something year old man needs to be stuck on his high school girlfriend of six months).

i have no fucking clue as to where the show would’ve went besides jess and jimmy getting to know eachother. i doubt it would make it past its first season if it did air. BUT nonetheless, i’m talking about it.

a possible love interest (or just character on the show in general) i’d love to see is your typical beachy blonde. i’d love to see some rich girl from venice that jess sees out with her friends or something and automatically assumes the worst. she must be some bitchy blonde with guys all over her… right? until one night he’s strolling on the beach and sees her drunk shoved up against a tree by some guy. jess gets in a fight, blah blah. gets her home and realizes just how empty her huge house is. they slowly start hanging out and despite her lack of knowledge in the literature scene, she’s probably one of the sweetest girls he’s ever met (shit now i really wanna write a fic about this).

i’ve also always felt like jess needs someone exactly like him. so much so that it freaks him the fuck out. HA! i was originally thinking the girl from “she’s all that” but now im iffy. ANYWAYS. when jess is looking through one of the huge bookstores, he sees her sitting on the floor with a book. he sees her around town a lot (typically hanging out with the guys who stole his book and skated off) turns out she works near jimmy’s truck. she’s ridiculously shy and reserved. but she’s not afraid to call someone out. think an artsy rory with balls.

now, would rory come back and ruin jess’s possible relationship? probs. would jess get in his head cause what is he doing moving on from rory? probs. would it even last? who tf knows. BUT NOW IM INTERESTED. BYE!

#fuck now i really wanna write this fic #you guys tell me no #jess mariano #jess mariano fic #teddypickerry #gilmore girls #jess mariano x reader #gilmore girls asks #gilmore girls blurbs #gilmore girls rants #is this too oc?