#could definitely use some work but I just really like the idea of him and/or a group of evil scientists singing this
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fresne999 · 3 days ago
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Murderbot tv - ep5-7, thoughts
Now that I have once again been so blessed as to watch Murderbot episodes 6 & 7 (and a rewatch of 5) a few maundering, meandering thoughts about the divergences and the complementary creatures that the books and the tv show are.
Also some massive digressions, because that is how I roll. 
Which, fair warning, is where I shall start.
William the Blorbos
Youtube served up a video to me about an old blorbos of mine. 
I speak, of course, of William the Marshall, the Good Knight.
youtube
And whose relationship -- err…patronage by -- Eleanor of Aquitaine put his life on the course that it did. 
I mean, in a general sense, WillyM had little in common with MB. What with being a 1200s Norman knight.  While on a routine escort mission, the group was attacked, he risked his life to enable a slightly older (30s to his 20s) woman to escape the ambush, and was himself injured and captured. But psych, that lady was the Queen of England. EllieA being no fool, ransomed his ass and offered him a job in her families' service as a true and parfait knight, which is how the next fifty years of badassery went. 
Don't get me wrong, William totally knew who Eleanor was. He didn't delete his memory or fail to read the packet because he was too busy listening to troubadours, but he was also a random knight and didn't have a lot of reason to think he was going to get ransomed and offered a job. 
Which, well, parallels end because Preservation Alliance isn't medieval Europe, and there was more for William to do. 
But where I'm going with this is that the video got me to thinking that a lot of folks who want to see Mensah and MB's relationship as maternal/child, don't have other models to work with. She's not his mom. She's not his boss. Not really. 
There is a social/human class differential between Mensah and MB. It's that differential that possibly reads to some folks as maternal, but MB is an adult who has been around the tourney circuit a few times. But as a gracious leader worthy of service, that works. 
vs The Prince
I'd already been thinking that in a lot of ways the Corporate Rim is set up as a Machiavellian hellscape where using people isn't just acceptable, it's expected to maintain power. Where deception is a key tool.
Gurathin was a spy. LeBeeBee is a spy/murderer, if by combat-proxy.
Not that LeBeeBee even bothers to have a consistent story. In Ep 6, she slightly changes aspects of her story from Ep 5: who she was indentured to, the length of that indenture, but all in the service of cozying up. She accurately spots Bharadwaj as someone who is open and vulnerable. For LeBeeBee, emotional connection doesn't exist. It's all in the service of millions of credits. Because that's how it is on the Corporate Rim. 
Even her on-going discussions sexualizing MB, who at that point she thinks she's just vaporized, is all in the service of pushing PresAux one way or another.
The Corporate Rim, like our world, is one in which cynicism is often celebrated. Nihilism is the praised response to the socio-political horror of the day. Engagement, well, that's what media is for.
Preservation Alliance is framed as full of naive rubes, because they don't ascribe to that paradigm. 
To be naive is to lack experience, wisdom, or judgement. 
In fiction, as in life, valuing concepts other than cynicism is often presented as naive. But I feel that the show, as an extension on the books, is presenting reaching out to others as a choice.
Bharadwaj isn't necessarily wrong to reach out to LeBeeBee. I mean, it could have gotten her killed. But LeBeeBee's chosing be self-serving gets her killed in this narrative. Because there is always a bigger badder baddie out there. Sometimes a SecUnit. Sometimes a giant worm-creature. 
Trusting LeBeeBee isn't safe, but it was a choice out of a perspective. 
Trusting Gurathin probably wasn't a great idea either, except it was. 
The books definitely give the impression, and the show is expanding on the idea that Preservation Alliance isn't a, "There's only so much room at the table" society, it's a, "Let's make a bigger table." 
It's not naivety for Mensah, having just seen MB grab Gurathin by the throat-hold-release-walk away to ask it to help protect their group. With full understanding that it has the choice not to, but that the compassionately pragmatic choice is to ask for its help. There's a simply lovely visual interplay between Mensah and Gurathin during this whole sequence of events that I missed the first time through. She's talking to MB, making her pitch, glances at Gurathin and the camera follows her gaze to where Gurathin is visibly uncomfortable, and she keeps going. It's not naive to ask for MB's help, despite MB being quite literally a weapon in Corporate Rim terms. 
It's about making choices about how you want to be, and the narrative is putting a lot of energy in first positioning PresAux as these weird hippies, and then refusing to privilege the Corporate Rim point of view as well. 
Chimes
That said, Arada. Sweetie, don't insult the lady with the gun. Don't run at the SecUnit trying to shoot you. 
Lovely. Fierce. Like to see it, but yeah, maybe no.
Also, she is the person who told LeBeeBee that she had a beautiful name. Given the glances that Pin-Lee and Ratti were giving her, I'm wondering if she was giving off, "I'm about to try to ask to add to the contract vibes," that they recognized. Until LeBeeBee was LeBeeBee, and Arada went, "Nope." 
I'm fascinated by the shift from book MB has not, never wants to kill someone in front of Arada, to this is a MB who very much has in fact very much killed someone in front of her. 
In a way, this places front and center who/what MB is for PresAux. 
For Arada, who looks at giant worms going at it and is filled with special interest delight. 
Flutes of Power
I don't have much to say here, but I was also listening to an old episode of TimeTeam, and they made an Anglo Saxon flute, and that thing sounded so much like the instrument Ratthin was playing. 
Kind of annoying sounding, but part of the musical landscape of a different culture. 
Two Sides of the Same Coin
I've seen much digital ink spilled on how Gurathin and MB are very similar, which no argument. 
Gurathin seeing MB as a sort of romantic rival for the favor of the great lady is very Book of Courtly Love of him, but reads to me as Gurathin misreading his own feelings because there aren't a lot of other scripts out there. 
Love is romantic love, except when it isn't. Sometimes it's misreading the gesture of a good friend to attend a lecture because you need a friendly face, or even really misunderstanding one's own emotions out of the powerful emotion of leaving a very bad place.
I suppose it says something about my friend set that the idea that PresAux's entangled romantic backstory makes a lot of sense to me.
But I want to speak of the other side of the coin. Not Janus over there, being Gurathin and MB, but Ratthi. 
Awkward. Seeming like he's gotten by on charm his whole life, but that only goes so far. Certainly better social skills, but not actually being all that good at it.
Reading the room as he comes in on Arada and Pin-Lee, but goes in anyway. If he were actually good at reading a room, he'd have left. Instead, he offers a massage, and ends up getting one. Not because he's trying to manipulate the situation, a la LeBeeBee. He is a golden retriever in human form, but he's also a very particular type of person who needs to connect and isn't quite landing that connection.
So he's always reaching, reaching, reaching. 
He steps back in the softer approach scene, but he also goes over to MB in the shuttle…and is tremendously bad at it. 
He plays murder-die-whatever video game player, but he's a fake/grinder.
Ratthi's been added -- perhaps temporarily -- to Arada & Pin-Lee's contract, but he's not a husband. He isn't connected. 
His whole, let's have a kid blurt, made me think about the water-like pressure in society to ask about co-workers kids. Oddly enough, MB reflects this by parroting its media and asking Arada if she has kids. I mean, MB don't care so it hasn't noticed that she doesn't have seven million kids. 
Pin-Lee and Arada haven't talked about it.
But Ratthi clearly has thought about it. 
That had all the hallmarks of someone who has thought about how he isn't plugged in. How, he's an adult, but not a person who is participating in the project of raising the next generation, which is a thing (even socialist societies it would seem) think one must do. Blady-blady-blah. And it leaks out in the worst way. 
Whereas Mensah…oh, Mensah, how much I want to put your favor on my sleeve and fight in the tourney for your honor.
Or something.
Serious as a Heart Attack
I'm of two minds if Mensah realizes she's having panic attacks or not. It's entirely possible that this is a new stress in the body phenomenon she only started experiencing after Bharadwaj and Arada are almost eaten by a giant worm, on the alien planet she and her team need to explore to help support her world getting necessary resources, and yeah that is just a new level of stress. She's far from her world, her partners, and any sense of normalcy.  
It's also entirely possible that she had panic attacks before coming to the world of worms and no (so far) resources.
Stress is an odd thing. It creates brain fog so it's hard to process input. It raises your blood pressure. Makes your heart beat fast. Gives tension headaches (from that high blood pressure). Makes a person feel like there is a ten pound weight on your chest and you cannot breathe. 
For a brief digress, I worked in a very stressful place for 9 years (8 years ago). At least once a week, I googled for signs of stroke &/or heart attack in women. I was having daily panic attacks, but it was also possible I was having a serious health condition. This is where brain fog comes in.
So seeing Mensah go through this and not know what's happening to her body was profoundly relatable to me. And it would seem tv MB, who has no heart and can't have a heart attack, but can have a panic attack. Who can / has been forced to go into the horrors for all of its life. 
There's something profoundly intimate about sharing the only tool in its toolbox for dealing with anxiety. Breathing the crystal air. 
Really kudos to Noma Dumezweni for conveying panic, anger, attempting to breathe in unison, realization regarding MB, which does serve to calm her all within a few moments. 
Breathing the Crystal Air
When I am stressed, I focus on breathing into my belly or box breathing. This helps shift my body from the sympathetic nervous system (fight or flight) to parasympathetic nervous system (rest & digest). My heart rate goes down as does my blood pressure. 
MB doesn't have a stomach to digest food. It doesn't have a rest and digest mode, or I assume a parasympathetic nervous system. MB doesn't have a heart. 
When I am stressed myself, or helping a friend having a panic attack/anxiety, I focus on my body. In particular the sense of smell, which can elicit emotional reactions.
Given the way MB talks about pheromones, I'm not sure it has a sense of smell. Certainly no pleasant memories to associate with a certain smell.
What MB has, all it has, is its shows, which it has memorized, connects to, and yeah, I would delete a manual too if that's all I had to keep myself from having a panic attack.
MB has exactly one tool and seeing Mensah realize that in real time was beautiful.  
Bitter and Sweet
Bitter and Sweet could just be a party game, but I keep thinking about social relationships in stressful situations. How important it is to connect and hash out difficult things. I do wonder if the show isn't positing Bitter & Sweet not so much as a game, but as a way for people in Preservation Alliance to confront and deal with possible rough edges in relationships. 
First say the sweet. The thing you love. Then get out of the way the bitterness between you that could be a problem while on a survey mission. Then join hands and articulate that "We can talk about this." It's not something that has to be buried or pushed down. We can talk about this. Safely. Without recrimination. It's safe. We can talk about this.
Preservation Alliance is not a culture that values silence. Being quiet. 
Sitting there at that table in a fancy restaurant in the belly of the beast. The Corporate Rim. With everyone around them going, why so loud, ye rubes. 
Whatever.
Present Tense
I find it interesting that Gurathin's emotional connection to that low point in his life is present tense. He's not, "I was a spy. I was considering suicide." It's all present tense. It's living. It's alive. It's right there.
Which makes sense.
He's gone back to the Corporate Rim. Because he's naive, too.
L v B: Paying for children
Debt for children.
Licenses for children. There's a lot of context for that concept in Science Fiction. Folks can only get the licence after they take the class / get certified. Licenses are limited because resources are limited / there is overcrowding.
In a lot of ways, as a science fiction reader I'm set up to expect that Preservation Alliance would be the world that would require a license to have a child. There aren't limitless resources. They do believe in therapy modules and treating people right, and that would include children, and would fit a norm of requiring license in the same way I need a driver's license to drive.
But no. 
Because this is a Corporate hellscape. Licenses because Corporate overlords want folks to pay to create the next generation of workers.
Versus Bharadwaj's the entire society of Preservation Alliance bears the cost of raising a child. Not just having it, but the raising to adulthood.
I always like it when science fiction addresses that this process isn't free. That raising children is a group project. 
Island Chain
We continue to tease out why PrexAux is on planet, and it's such an interesting delicate shift from the books.
In most cases I would expect a book to go more into depth about the mechanisms of a socialist society, but MB aggressively doesn't care. 
In the tv show, it makes sense that we'd get more information about Preservation Alliance because MB is no longer narrating our story. TV is third person omniscient. 
We get little name drops about the Captain who rescued the colonists from the failed colony planet where PresAux ancestors were left to sink/swim/die. We get discussions about how needs are met, but there's also debt to bring in resources.
I continue to like this deepening of why PresAux is out there, because it gives gravitas to why they are bending their principles to use/bring to the world a SecUnit. 
Once one is in the Preservation Alliance, they have reached a base level utopia of the sort that occurs in a world without teleporters and replicators and fabricators. But I think about islanders (I have a different island in mind than you may think) and how they may need resources.
Consider how amazed Bharadwaj was by the medical bay. I mean she was high, but also I don't think they have those resources in Preservation Alliance. 
The Corporate Rim gives nothing for free. 
Whereas in the books, a lot is open to interpretation about Preservation Alliance, because MB doesn't care. We get a festival. Various polycules. There's a side to 1 of the planets in the 3 planet alliance that isn't terraformed.
We're told they barter within systems and credit/money on the station. 
Barter. They barter. 
Mr Shorty Would Like Word 
So in addition to being interested in certain medieval figures, I'm really into bronze age societies, and learning about ancient people's. 
That means when I hear barter, I don't go…ah ha utopia they are beyond money, or even get into what I think credits in Star Trek actually represent given physical things can be replicated, it means I think about how barter systems historically worked. 
Which can be, "thank you doctor for treating my child, have a chicken," but it's also trade goods. 
Or put another way that Tumblrinas may grok, Ea Nasir of the terrible copper lived in a barter system society and was a copper trader.
Copper was a barter good. Processed copper that has had the arsenic etc. taken out is good copper, and unprocessed copper is bad, because then you've got to deal with getting the arsenic out. When you've traded goods for good processed copper and you get the shit with the arsenic still in you get annoyed and write letters. Or send your boy "Mr. Shorty" to "speak" sternly to the copper merchant. Yes, the person receiving copper might have wanted to make some bronze (after they got their tin on), but just as likely they wanted a trade good.
Another common barter/trade good was fabric. So barter makes me think about pre-industrial household engines where women were spinning flax and wool into thread, to weave into different types of fabric on looms that were dedicated to making that kind of fabric. Where women were gathering the items to dye the thread and/or fabric. Where that fabric could then be used to trade for things that you wanted, because you can't make homemade clothes without fabric and fabric takes (in a pre-modern sense) *a lot* of labor. Like a lot alot. 
Preservation Alliance with their home made clothes and their barter system.
At this point, I'm kind of imaging the Preservation Alliance as the Minoans, who probably weren't as utopian as early archeologists want to think, but also appear to have had good diets cross societally given the bones they left behind. I mean, nice place, enough to eat, but there's limited natural resources for say making bronze, and you need bronze or you're not in the Bronze Age, you're just scraping by with flint. 
Preservation Alliance has enough food, but what about therapeutics made in advanced facilities or possible certain kinds of metals or computer chips or whatever? That requires trade.
I think about how the Minoans were able to get value for their trade goods by making really fancy worked leather goods and luxury items, and how that can't work for Preservation Alliance, given how the Corporate Rim prefabricates clothing / goods.  
But I also think about the Minoan bull leapers who went to Egypt. I think about people in present day who immigrate from their homes to work and send money home to their families in less economically advantaged countries. 
Labor is also a thing that is bartered. So, I'm really intrigued by the revelation that the mission to this planet is because Preservation Alliance has debt to the Corporate Rim / Corporations. That the reason they don't immediately pull the ripcord when things get strange is because they need to be there. 
They are Bull Leapers in xenophobic Egypt bringing the copper and tin home. 
For Science
Bharadwaj is right though. It's also for science.
It's Arada getting her passion about biological lifeforms out there when the compatible creatures are going at it.
Sex and death.
Sex. It causes eggs. Which leads to life, which leads to death. To a certain way of thinking.
The Crowd didn't Rejoice
There were a number of ways the show could have handled LeBeeBee's death. They went with realistic shock and horror. They went with SecUnits don't just kill, they can overkill. Like a lot of overkilling. 
MB wears its helmet, has its shield from gaze, and takes no chances. LeBeeBee isn't given even the chance of a last mental impulse to pull a trigger. It's meant to be shocking and by the PresAux reactions, we the audience are given direction on how we're meant to take these events.
This isn't Mortal Combat - kill-die-video game, flawless victory, out with the spinal column. This is meant to be shocking. 
This is Ratthi going, "I'm friends with a SecUnit," and blithely not grokking that MB isn't human. Doesn't want to be human. 
I'm actually inclined to wonder at this point if the reason why MB doesn't have any obvious mods like in the books, even as far as say a Seven of Nine thing on the forehead, is to create that sense of humanity that is skin deep. Where the audience and PresAux go, coded human, but no. 
Mensah slicing that long cut to open up skin and reveal metal mesh. A metal spinal column. Human-ish connective tissue that is probably organic and is probably also synthetic. Because MB is a whole confused being. 
That MB talks about liking killing LeBeeBee (a statement I don't necessarily take at face value) directly after saying that PresAux thought they were getting to know it. 
Or maybe I do.
It fulfilled its function. It had a win. LeBeeBee died. But no Huzzah.
Huzzahs when the worm kills the SecUnit with its face behind the mask. "Stay calm," while shooting. 
That PresAux has been defining MB as human. Look, human face, etc. 
But it's not.
Yes, it doesn't want to be treated as an object, but it's been very clear that it does not want to be seen as a human either. 
I do think that part of the reason that plot arc of leaking fluid/neural tissue in ships is partly there is to further emphasize that MB is cousin to the hovercraft more than it is cousin to us. 
It gets up from back surgery to go repair the craft. It's not human. If isn't there and then it is to shoot LeBeeBee. It's not human. 
Interwoven in this is the Sanctuary Moon romance of the captain and the NavBot. With the captain ordering NavBot to sit down, and being so sure that of course the goal is to be more human.
Gurathin and Medbay
I do wonder that Gurathin didn't take the time while MB was getting patched up to patch up as well. 
Delighted Mensah wasn't dead.
Distracted by tasks.
There wasn't time.
But priority wasn't given. A choice of sorts.
Phallic and Yonic
Okay, on one hand we've got LeBeeBee saying that MB is owned. A thing. If they want to modify it, they can. Transform the walking weapon with guns in its arms. Give it a phallus.
Meanwhile, MB is asking Mensah (Temmy is in the well) to cut open its back in massive yonic imagery that I kind of wanted to hang a Georgia O'Keefe painting and call it a day. 
Except MB prioritizes repairing its back. Becoming whole again. 
Which, okay, I'm really bouncing around here, but I'm going to link to a poem by Rilke about Euridice. 
Here Rilke imagines that in death, Euridice casts aside gender roles and, 
"...She found herself in a resurrected virginity; her sex closed like a young flower at nightfall. And her hands were so weaned from marriage that she suffered from the light god's endlessly still guiding touch as from too great an intimacy…
She was already loosened like long hair and surrendered like the rain and issued like massive provisions. She was already root."
I thought about this imagery MB had its back repaired. Closed. Pulling back from touch. Root as it imagines itself becoming a lump in the natural landscape in it's dream of dying through lack of motion.
But apart. Not truly part of the green.
Not enough media to just walk away and die.
MB is Euridice becoming root, and hacking its own root files.
MB is Orpheus turning back from the perimeter.
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pzos-amiserableidiot · 11 days ago
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Doofenshmirtz Parody: Writing on the Wall
Palaces of silver and gold
Cannot be designed overnight
It's like the saying I've often been told
"No matter the cost, do things right"
You have to be careful, you have to be diligent
Planning and measuring every detail
Creating is drawing, erasing and drawing again
And whether it was for power, fame or control
I only worked hard so the inventions won't fail
But seeing it finished is worth every dollar I spend
Within every device made with pride
The inventor lives on inside
Shining paint, a wire heart
That's what makes a work of art
We build and we ploy
Forging dreams out of alloy
With the hope that our machines don’t fall
That we won't have to see the writing on the wall
The more you work, the higher the stakes
And the bigger the sorrows to drown
'Cause one mistake is all that it takes
For the walls to come crumbling down
You have to ignore them, the echoing voices
That cackle and curse as you toil away
Cover your ears and focus on boxes and lines
And the shadowy figures, they're nothing but shadows
Like ink on a page, they have nothing to say
But maybe, just maybe, they're trying to give me a sign
That in every device made with pride
The inventor remains inside
Peeling paint, a heavy heart
That's what makes a work of art
We scream and we appeal
Forging dreams out of steel
As we try not to look at the scrawl
The message of doom, the writing on the wall
Every day we play this game of chance
Whirling through a desperate dance
Sketching visions in our heads
Just to see them ripped to shreds
This road that we share
Doesn't lead anywhere
But there's nothing an artist can do
When you swing your brush, you have to follow through
Within every device made with pride
The inventor is trapped inside
Bleeding paint, a shattered heart
That's what makes a work of art
I'll fight for control
But the right way takes a toll
And still, at the end of it all
I can't escape my fate
The writing's on the wall
Listen to Will Stetson’s cover of the song Writing On The Wall!!
youtube
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mwphisto · 1 month ago
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LaDs: You have a High Libido
~ inspired by an anon’s ask!
~ all love interests included
Warning, this post contains: smut, 18+ content, mentions of sex, sweat, cum, bodily fluids, you get the idea.
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Xavier
⭐️He is thrilled actually, because so does he
⭐️Don’t let the sleepy tendencies fool you, Xavier is ready to go whenever (and wherever) you are
⭐️You can push him past his limits, even out do him in the horny department, and he’ll still attempt to keep up
“Again?” You’re both breathless, cheeks red and bodies sweaty. The room reeks of sex and sweat, with the comforting mix of your perfume and his cologne. The sheets are damp with your combined fluids, a variety of them for that matter. Sweat, drool, cum… definitely a wash day tomorrow! “Yes, please. I still need you Xavier.” You’ve cum so many times you’ve lost count, poor cunt so puffy that it’s a miracle you can even feel anything down there. Still, it’s aching, throbbing with need, you need him again. “Sure, baby.” And he’s on you, a worn out smile on his lips as he showers your heated skin in wet kisses. You can — and will — go until sunrise
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Rafayel
🎨Rafayel’s libido on a normal day is pretty decent, he’s down whenever you are and that’s… often
🎨It takes him some time to build his stamina… unless it’s ebb day. Lemurian heat cycles are something else.
🎨He breaks before you do, but all it takes is the off hand comment of “I’ll finish myself” and he’s ready to go
“You’re tired, Raf. I’ll just go take care of—“ tired be damned, he’s hauling his sweat slicked body up and pushing you down again. “I won’t stop until you’re satisfied.” His cheeks are a permanent crimson, pupils blown wide. Even if he is exhausted, his cock is still twitching at the sight of your ruined cunt. So much cum, arousal, all just leaking down your thighs. You’ve been going at it for two hours at this point, nonstop, barely a break between each round. Even if you didn’t mean too, you’re slowly training your lover to have a libido as high as yours. “It’s okay, re-really I can—shit!” He stops all complaints by shoving himself inside, one easy, slipper go. “I’m. Not. Stopping. Until you are satisfied, cutie.”
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Zayne
🩺Zayne doesn’t quite know what to do with himself at first. He’s a tad bit overwhelmed by your high libido.
🩺Give him a little time, he’ll get used to it, and slowly realize his libido is pretty high up there too… just takes a couple weeks of separation and he’s ravenous
🩺Zayne controls the situation by edging you both, keeping the game going until you’re both exhausted
“Can’t cum yet, darling. Gotta hold it in.” It’s been an hour… maybe two? Possibly three. You’re not sure, nor do you care. You have Zayne wrapped around your finger… well maybe he had you wrapped around his finger but still. “P-please, Zayne! You’ve ruined it like…shit I can’t remember… seven times? Probably more…” what’s worse than being completely denied is having your orgasm ruined. He’s brought you to the edge, pushed you over, and then stood back and watched it fizzle out. Completely unsatisfying, your poor cunt twitching for more, a real one at that. “You’re doing so good for me though, the reward will be so good if you just…” a gentle motion with his fingers and you’re jerking into him. “…wait.”
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Sylus
🍒He didn’t realize that your… eagerness could rub off on him so easily… or maybe he’s always been this way.
🍒Your high libido is damn near torture, considering you’re in Linkon and he’s in the N109 Zone… you’re always tied up with work, he’s always away for business…
🍒Even then, Sylus does try and make it so your time together isn’t entirely… sex. Doesn’t it always work? No.
“I swear all we do is fuck when we see eachother…” you’re giggling as you say it, laying on top of him, chest to chest. His slowly softening cock is begin to slip out of you, the copious amounts of release following. “Because it is all we do… you’re insatiable.” Sweaty and flushed, but still smug, Sylus is twirling your hair around his fingers. “Hey!” A smack lands on his sweaty shoulder and he’s laughing. “You’re one to talk, mister.” But Sylus isn’t letting you live it down that easily. “You made me this way… nothing but a greedy soul.” And just like that, you can feel him hardening again. He studies your expression, tear stained cheeks and flushed skin. So beautiful, even as your lips part in a little “o” as he fills you up.
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Caleb
🪐You thought your libido was high… till Caleb finally stopped holding his feelings back
🪐He is on cloud nine when he finds out you’re just as horny as he is 24/7
🪐He’ll travel to and from Linkon if it means getting that pussy for the night. You have zero complaints either, other than maybe the fact that you wished he didn’t live so far
“You’re going to miss… miss…. Caleb!” His hips pound into you, every time you attempt to remind him about missing his train back to Skyhaven he just thrusts harder. “Such a weird way to say that I’m fucking you so damn good, I think a thank you is in order.” He’s nearly in your stomach and he has the audacity to be sassy. You give up on trying to remind him, as if you wouldn’t call off work the next day just to keep him tied down to your bed, balls deep like you had been so boldly begging him for over text a few hours earlier. You’re going to get a noise complaint, maybe even a notice from the city since you have your windows open. The room reeked of sex after all, you needed something to clear your fogged up heads.
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miyaz6ki · 4 months ago
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☆ wearing their clothes
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synopsis. seeing s/o wearing their clothes for the first time :) (like shirts/sweatshirts or jackets/coats :pensive:)
the blade has spoken. erm... first draft being posted... i feel a little nervous after changing from reshinless to the user i use everywhere..
pairings. albedo, alhaitham, capitano, childe, wriothesley, diluc, neuvillette, kinich, xiao, dainsleif, wanderer
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albedo felt himself heating up already. the red that crept up his neck was noticeable as you looked up. you were wearing his lab coat, and all cozy in the bed you both share.
"you're.. wearing.. my.." - "oh.. wow."
he had just come back from work and he couldn't wait to cuddle with you in bed, yet it was as if he wouldn't mind conducting another experiment with his new 'assistant' by his side <3
alhaitham when he suddenly walks into the empty home, tired of the work he's done for only archons knows how long he had been working. he just wanted to come home and tell you about all the things he's been- oh.
he was stunned. star struck. fuck. were you really wearing his sweater right now? the grayhead felt himself simply smirk at he adorable sight of you simply sleeping on the couch. a dinner made just for him, along with dessert on the side (ifykyk)
"maybe i'll tell you when i wake up, love."
capitano who simply lets out a chuckle, one out of love. he loves how large his coat looked on you. he handed it to you after going out for a while, asking you to simply hang it beside his desk. yet you had better ideas. and by better ideas? is to wear it of course!
"well what do we have here? you're so adorable my love."
he tucks strands of your hair behind your ear. adoring the way you tried your best not to fall over as you tried to spin. this was enough to keep you warm though. not to mention how he was already carrying you bridal style to bed.
childe laughs, seeing you try on one of his shirts, looking at yourself in the mirror before turning to see him.
baby, you look amazing! how about another spin?
even when you simply scoffed, he loved how you looked right now. fuck, he could feel himself reddening already. he definitely will let you have full access to his wardrobe. just take it all like how you took his heart too.
wriothesley just put his jacket over you to keep you from being wet while watching the melusines play with sigewinne, yet right now he was more focused on how much he admired your figure in his clothes. his jacket.
"what's wrong?" "...nothing. you look amazing today, yk that?"
he chuckled at your behavior, unaware of your own attractiveness as you told them to stop running around the fountain with the wetness of the floor spreading. you couldn't help but ease up and laugh as well.
a certainly crazy day at the court of justice- neuvillette was finally finishing up the last few cases, not to mention how absurd some of the cases were.
not realizing he ended up taking your jacket instead of his home, only realizing it when the melusines mention how different it look from his usual one. oh man. there you were. trying on his coat that just seemed a little too big (or small) on you. gosh were you cute.. what do you mean his ears are red?!
"i.. it looks better on you than me, doesn it?"
dainsleif who was there immediately as soon as the red wine was spilled onto your outfit. quick to spring into acting, he throws his jacket over it just as fast. scolding the person who jealously just oh-so accidentally ruined your outfit tonight purely because they wanted your significant other? oh please he wasn't having any of that!
but by the time his anger went away, he didn't realize how.. alluring you looked.. in something he wore all the time. it definitely suited you better, only noticing after he finally parked the car. he definitely had to give you more of his clothes.
"you.. uh.. i.. well.. you're beautiful. you know, you're welcome to keep that."
diluc's face was turning as red as his hair seeing how you quietly snored, sound asleep in his- no, your shared bed. seeing how closely you held his coat to your chest, as well as the shirt you wore.
"...I don't.. deserve you."
he simply took his boots off, letting his arms snake you close, one of his hands trailing up to your scalp, calmly stroking your head as he feels you smile into his chest. this was life.
kinich who always had an interesting wardrobe, you really just wanted to see how comfy his clothes were if he can swing back and forth that far!
and in which you did, spinning and looking at yourself in the mirror in his clothing. you loved it even more from how it smelled just like him too <3
"someone's having fun aren't they?"
you felt yourself blush out of embarassment of getting caught. but before you could apologize, he already had his lips on yours.
when xiao decides it'd be a good idea to give you a hoodie just to realize you never gave it back. is it just.. yours now?
and to find out the answer? yes! it is! and he finds out in the cutest way possible—by finding you sleeping soundly and wearing it all the same. almost indifferent about it as if it was normal.
"you okay?" "i-i've been looking for this y-you know.."
he only flushed more when you tell him you missed him so much.
finally coming home, wanderer, or scaramouche just wanted to cuddle. no words shared. just to hold you in his arms.
but maybe it was good that didn't happen. because now he was looking at the love of his life, and eating the food they made him. knowing how they made it with the knowledge on how he can't really taste anything. not to mention you were wearing.. that sweatshirt he lent you.
you.. look.. good.
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bloodnight-blaze · 5 months ago
Text
“ who cares, baby? i think i wanna marry you. ”
ft. xavier, zayne, rafayel, and sylus w a gn!reader.
synopsis: you marry the love of your life.
notes: started off as silly thoughts for my friend and then turned into this so. take it. enjoy it.
warnings: not canon to the story of the game, self-indulgent, weddings, sickeningly sweet fluff, they all cry lol, it's short and it's sweet, reader does wear a dress so sorry if that's something that makes you uncomfortable, petnames used: starlight (x), sunshine (z), angel (r), princess (s).
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XAVIER — certainly fantasized about getting married, but it was never something he actually expected to happen. Not until he met you. It wasn't love at first sight, but when you two entered a relationship, he could just see himself marrying you.
When he proposed, he had been so nervous that he barely slept the night before, which is saying something. But you accepted with a bright smile, and the man nearly smothered you to death with a hug. The mere thought of marrying you has him smiling, honestly.
He doesn't care how big or small the wedding is, though when it turns out to be a small wedding he finds he prefers it that way. There's an air of excitement at the wedding, most of the guests being your own friends and family since there wasn't anyone for him to invite.
Xavier knew he was going to cry. There's no denying it, he knew he'd cry at some point during the day because, I mean... he's marrying you. He's the luckiest man alive. He just thought he'd hold strong a little longer, but the tears were falling when you walked down the aisle in your breathtaking dress.
His gaze was drawn to you the entire time. Nothing else mattered but you. The way the fairy lights bathed you in this beautiful golden glow, the way you smiled at him with all the love in the world... it was like you contained galaxies in your eyes.
The vows were short and sweet, and when the officiant says you two can kiss, he was quick to gently cup your face in his hands. He could only hope the kiss he pressed against your lips conveyed the sheer and utter adoration he felt for you.
This was the beginning of a new chapter for the two of you, and while he's sure nothing will change, he can't help but being excited at the idea of being able to refer to you as his spouse.
ㅤ— “ I love you, my starlight. Until every last star dies, I love you. ”
ZAYNE — had always known that he would marry you one day. Ever since you two were kids, he had imagined it. You're the only person he's ever loved, so if he ever got married, it would be to you or no one at all. It was only a matter of time, really.
The actual proposal was nothing big. You two had dinner at his place and the box with the ring rested in the place he knew you'd be able to see it. He hadn't been nervous when he proposed, but he can't deny that his heart was racing when he popped the question.
He'll definitely want the wedding to be small, just a couple of friends and family on each side. His parents were overjoyed to learn about his engagement and made sure to clear their schedule for the day of the wedding, and he had invited a few friends from work as well.
Zayne hadn't really wanted to cry, especially not in front of so many people, but he couldn't stop the tears from blurring his gaze when he saw you walking down the aisle. How could he not cry, when he felt so overwhelmed by his love for you?
It was the first time he saw you in your wedding dress as well, since you had been so adamant at keeping to tradition. You weren't lying when you said you would match your dress to his suit.
The bouquet of flowers in your hands only added to the beauty of... everything about you. So he won't deny that he cried, his gaze never once breaking from you even when the officiant started to speak.
He was able to keep his tears in check for the rest of the ceremony, and once you two were home and no longer wearing your wedding clothes, he found it near impossible to stray from your side for you long. His hand was almost always interlocked with yours, his finger absently brushing against the wedding wing that bound the two of you together.
ㅤ— “ You've always been the love of my life, sunshine. You always will. ”
RAFAYEL — never thought about marriage. It's not something that ever entered his mind, and he avoided attending any weddings just to dodge the inevitable 'so when will we get an invite to your wedding' he'll no doubt be met with. It isn't until you entered his life that he started to give it some thought.
And when he did decide to propose to you, it had been spur of the moment. He bought the ring on a whim months ago, and he kept it in his pocket almost every time you two went out, waiting for the perfect moment. That perfect moment just so happens to be you spending the night at his place, laughing at his smears paint on your face. The question slipped out, and he seemed more shocked than you.
He was adamant on keeping the thing small, even though Thomas wanted to invite a bunch of people once the man found out about the engagement.
The only people Rafayel was willing to invite was Thomas and a couple of crabs he befriended. Sure, your family and friends questioned why they were being seated with crabs, but it's not their wedding, now is it?
Before the wedding starts, he had gone to the bathroom to give himself a lengthy pep talk about how he was not going to cry at all at any point during the wedding. And for a good portion of it, he didn't. When you walked down the aisle wearing a beautiful dress that reminded him of the ocean, he didn't cry. When you guys shared your vows, exchanged rings, and kissed, he didn't cry.
No, Rafayel only cried when the first dance started. When the lights dimmed and you took his hand and pulled him close, he could feel his heart stuttering. You looked at him as if he were the only person in the world, like you never wanted to look away. The feeling of your wedding ring was cool against his skin, and it was impossible to stop the tears at this point.
He spent the entirety of your first dance together with his head buried in your shoulder just so people couldn't see his tears. Only you got to see him like this, because there's no one else he'd rather be vulnerable with.
ㅤ— “ I'd marry you over and over again, angel, until you get sick of me. ”
SYLUS — certainly thought marriage was something he'd never experience, given his lifestyle. What person would be insane enough to marry the leader of Onychinus, let alone date the man? You, apparently, because you became a pivotal part of his life.
He won't propose until he's absolutely certain that marrying him is something you'd be willing to do. Marrying him means really accepting the darker parts that come with being in a relationship with him, and he didn't want to force you into such a commitment. And when he does propose, he can't help the relief he feels when you say yes.
While the wedding isn't necessarily big, a few of his most trusted associates are invited, alongside your family and friends should you invite them. It's a strange mix of people, and a few of your friends will probably pull you to the side after the ceremony to ask what exactly it is that your husband does for a living.
For the most part, Sylus won't cry during the ceremony. Though, once you two start to recite your vows to each other, he does choke up a bit. Any man would be a fool not to tear up at the sight of their spouse professing their love to them. And it doesn't help that you're looking at him with pure and utter devotion in your gaze.
You were okay with who he was. With what he does. You weren't scared off by the darker aspects of his life, and you were vowing to stick by his side through whatever the world threw at you two. Crying only seemed natural. Other than the vows, Sylus stayed composed. Softer, than usual, but overall he kept his usual demeanor.
Truly, he thinks he could die happy now that he's married to you. The ring on his finger was a comfortable weight, and he'd find himself looking at it way more than he'd care to admit.
He spoiled you rotten before you two were married, but trust it'll only get worse now that you're his spouse. Anything you want, he'll get it for you. You deserve the whole world for wanting to spend the rest of your life with him.
ㅤ— “ I'm staring? How can I not stare at the key to my heart, princess? ”
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solxamber · 7 months ago
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Imagine having mc take care of dorm leaders that turned into animals like riddle a hedgehog, leona a lion, Azul a octopus, kalim an otter, vil would definitely be a peacock, idia would be a cat, and lastly malleus a dragon. They would definitely turned into animals due to some spell and I mean imagine seeing a huge dragon outside the ramshackle dorm, it would be really shocking and funny at the same time. 😆
Zoo Tycoon: Housewarden Edition
In which they accidentally turn into animals.
a/n: i started vibrating the minute I saw this because that's such a cute concept and I have no self control so here we go
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Riddle Rosehearts
Riddle turning into a hedgehog was not on your to-do list today. But alas, here you were, holding a furious, tomato-colored hedgehog that refused to be handled by anyone but you.
“Aw, look at his little face!” Ace cooed, leaning in way too close.
Riddle puffed up, his tiny spines bristling in pure indignation. You could practically feel the how dare you emanating from his quivering form.
Deuce, ever the voice of concern, scratched his head. “What do we do now? Can he… even turn back?”
Ace smirked. “Maybe we just keep him like this. He’s a lot cuter when he can’t yell at us.”
Riddle launched himself at Ace’s hand, delivering a swift poke with his needle-sharp snout. Ace yelped, flailing backward dramatically. “Okay, okay! Geez, he’s still scary even like this.”
You cradled Riddle closer to your chest, where he settled down, still glaring daggers at the others. Somehow, he was perfectly content in your hands, even though he practically vibrated with rage whenever anyone else got near.
As the day went on, Riddle’s hedgehog antics only grew.
At lunch, he sat on your lap, sniffing your sandwich like a tiny food inspector. “You want a bite?” you teased, holding out a crumb.
His tiny paw batted it away with a disdainful look. Well, as disdainful as a hedgehog could manage. He turned his head toward the teapot, making his intentions very clear.
“Oh, of course. Tea for the hedgehog,” Ace snorted. “This is getting ridiculous.”
Later, in the library, Riddle climbed onto your textbook, curling up into a spiky ball to block your reading. You tried to nudge him gently. “Riddle, I need to study.”
He uncurled just enough to glare at you, his beady eyes burning with absolute authority. Message received: study time was over.
By nightfall, you were exhausted. Riddle was perched on a pillow next to you, looking surprisingly regal for a tiny woodland creature.
“Alright, Your Majesty,” you said, rubbing your temples. “How do we turn you back? Should we call Professor Crewel? Or maybe Professor Trein?”
Riddle chirped in protest, clearly not a fan of either option.
Deuce had another bright idea. “What if it’s, like, a true love’s kiss thing? Isn’t that how these fairy tale curses usually work?”
You rolled your eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”
But Riddle fixed you with a surprisingly intense hedgehog stare, his little nose twitching.
“Wait, are you… agreeing?” you asked, mildly horrified.
Ace snickered. “Do it. Kiss the hedgehog. For science.”
After much internal debate (and external heckling), you sighed and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Riddle’s tiny forehead.
There was a burst of light, and suddenly, you were nose-to-nose with a very human, very flustered Riddle Rosehearts.
He scrambled backward, covering his face with his hands. “W-well, that was… unexpected.”
“Unexpected?” you echoed. “You asked for it!”
Ace howled with laughter in the background. “So it was true love’s kiss! You two are so gross!”
Riddle glared at him, but his ears were still bright red as he turned to you. “I suppose… I owe you my gratitude. And, um…” He cleared his throat, fidgeting. “Would you—if it’s not too much trouble—consider going out with me?”
You blinked. “Wait, you’re asking me out now?”
Riddle crossed his arms. “You did kiss me. It’s only proper!”
You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Sure, Hedgehog Prince. Let’s go on a date.”
Riddle muttered something about proper decorum, but his small smile said he wasn’t too upset about it.
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona turning into an actual lion wasn’t even the weirdest thing that had happened this week, but it was definitely in the top five.
“C’mon, Prefect.” Ruggie grinned as he all but shoved you into Leona’s room, slamming the door behind you before you could protest. “I got stuff to do, and someone’s gotta deal with him. He only listens to you anyway!”
You turned to find Leona—the lion version—lounging on his bed like the world’s crankiest housecat. His massive paws stretched lazily, his eyes locking onto you with the unmistakable air of finally, someone competent.
“Uh, hi, Leona,” you ventured, waving awkwardly.
He grumbled, a low rumble of approval that shook the floorboards, and flicked his tail in a way that said, Don’t leave.
It became clear very quickly that Lion Leona was just as much of a diva as Human Leona.
First, he refused to eat the steak that Ruggie brought him, pawing at it disdainfully until you had to personally cut it into perfect bite-sized pieces. He made a satisfied grunt after his meal, flopping down at your feet like you were the royal food taster he’d personally hired.
Then, there was the grooming incident.
“Leona, you have something stuck in your mane,” you said, pointing to a suspicious tangle.
He gave you a look that said, And?
Sighing, you grabbed a brush and carefully worked out the knot. To your shock, Leona let out a rumble that sounded suspiciously similar to a purr.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
He blinked slowly, the feline equivalent of a smirk.
Ruggie, ever the opportunist, couldn’t resist stopping by to witness the chaos.
“Wow, Prefect, he’s basically a giant kitten with you around,” Ruggie teased, leaning against the doorframe.
Leona growled, a low warning rumble that sent Ruggie scurrying back. “Okay, okay! Sheesh, no need to get territorial. Have fun babysitting!”
You sighed, scratching behind Leona’s ears. “You’re really not helping my case, y’know.”
Leona just huffed and leaned into your touch, clearly unbothered.
By the end of the day, you were sprawled on the bed next to Leona, who was taking up approximately 80% of the mattress.
“You’re kinda cute like this,” you admitted, running your fingers through his mane. “Not that you’re not cute normally, but… y’know. Less grumpy.”
He gave you a look that somehow conveyed I am never not grumpy.
Feeling bold (and maybe a little delirious from exhaustion), you leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead.
There was a sudden, blinding flash of light, and before you could process what was happening, Leona was back in his human form, lounging beside you with his trademark smirk.
“Well, well,” he drawled, propping himself up on one elbow. “Didn’t know you felt that way, herbivore.”
You spluttered. “I—what—this was true love’s kiss?! That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever—”
He leaned closer, cutting off your rant with a low chuckle. “Guess that means you’re stuck with me now. So… dinner? Or are you gonna keep brushing my hair all night?”
Your brain short-circuited, but you managed a weak, “Dinner sounds good.”
Leona smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “Smart choice.”
From outside, Ruggie’s muffled voice shouted, “Hey, did it work? Can I come back now, or is he still a murder machine?”
Leona groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Sevens, someone muzzle that guy.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into Leona’s side. Maybe being stuck with him wasn’t such a bad deal after all.
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Azul Ashengrotto
To be fair, you weren’t exactly surprised when Jade and Floyd ambushed you outside Mostro Lounge. Their grins alone screamed mischief.
“Shrimpy~,” Floyd sing-songed, grabbing you by the arm. “C’mon, we need your help.”
“Azul’s having a little… situation,” Jade added with a cryptic smile. “And we think you’re the only one who can help.”
Before you could protest, you were unceremoniously dragged into Mostro Lounge, through a hidden door, and deposited in front of a massive aquarium. Inside was—
“Is that an octopus?” you asked, squinting.
The octopus—no, wait, Azul—floated pathetically in the corner, looking as done with life as an eight-legged creature could manage.
“Yep,” Floyd said cheerfully. “Boss turned himself into an octopus. Wouldn’t let anyone near him, though, so…”
Jade handed you a bottle filled with suspiciously glowing liquid. “Breathing potion. You’re going in.”
“Excuse me?!”
Before you could escape, Floyd picked you up like a sack of potatoes and dumped you into the tank.
You flailed briefly, realizing the potion worked—thank Sevens—but also realizing you were now face-to-face with Octopus Azul.
“Uh, hi?” you ventured, swimming awkwardly closer.
Azul didn’t respond, but one of his tentacles twitched and pointedly smacked the glass. You got the impression he was saying Why me?
“It’s not like I asked for this, y’know!” you huffed, crossing your arms. “Your goons threw me in here!”
Azul floated closer, his large, round eyes narrowing as if to say Yes, and they will pay.
It didn’t take long for Azul to warm up to you, mostly because he realized you weren’t leaving.
“Are you sulking?” you teased after his sixth dramatic float to the other side of the tank.
A tentacle flicked water in your direction, splashing you.
“Hey!” You swam closer and poked him on the head. “Don’t be such a baby.”
Azul responded by curling a tentacle around your wrist, pulling you closer.
“Okay, fine, you’re cute,” you muttered, patting his squishy head. “There, happy?”
Azul’s tentacles tightened slightly, and you were 90% sure he was smug about it.
After what felt like hours of tentacle shenanigans (including one terrifying moment where Azul tried to steal your potion bottle), you sighed.
“You’re lucky you’re adorable,” you said, booping his forehead.
Azul blinked at you, his gaze softer than usual. He looked so pitiful and huggable that, without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead.
There was a bright flash, and suddenly you were face-to-face with human Azul, who was sitting awkwardly in the shallow end of the tank, his face as red as a lobster.
“W-What did you just—”
“Oh my Sevens, you’re back!” you interrupted, relief washing over you. “Thank goodness, I thought I’d have to live in here forever!”
Azul cleared his throat, clearly flustered. “I—thank you. For… that.”
“No problem,” you said breezily, though your face felt like it was on fire.
Azul hesitated, fiddling with his glasses. “Would you, ah, perhaps… accompany me to dinner? As a token of gratitude, of course!”
“Sure,” you said, smiling. “But only if you promise to stop turning yourself into an octopus.”
He flushed even deeper, complaining something about “unavoidable circumstances,” but you couldn’t help laughing. Maybe dating an occasionally-octopus Azul wouldn’t be so bad.
From outside the tank, Floyd’s voice rang out: “Aww, Boss finally grew a backbone! Way to go, Shrimpy!”
Azul groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I’m never hearing the end of this.”
You patted his shoulder. “Welcome to my life.”
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Kalim Al-Asim
You really should have known something was wrong when Jamil showed up at your doorstep, eyes bloodshot and twitching slightly.
“I need your help,” he said, and those four words alone should’ve been your cue to lock the door and pretend you weren’t home.
But you didn’t, and that’s how you ended up sitting in Kalim’s opulent room, staring at a very excited otter splashing around in a gold-lined kiddie pool.
“You’re telling me Kalim turned himself into this?” you asked, pointing at the small, slippery creature currently attempting to roll onto his back and failing.
“Yes,” Jamil said, deadpan, rubbing his temples. “And he refuses to let anyone near him. Except apparently you.”
Kalim—the otter—perked up at the sound of your voice, flipping over and waddling toward you. He made a happy chirping sound before flopping dramatically onto your lap, his tiny paws grabbing at your shirt.
“See?” Jamil muttered, folding his arms. “This is why you’re staying here. I can’t deal with this anymore.”
Kalim was, to put it mildly, a handful.
One moment, he was contentedly snuggling in your lap, and the next, he was zooming across the floor, knocking over priceless vases and dragging an entire silk curtain into his pool.
“Uh, Kalim?” you called, watching as he tried to balance a sparkling golden spoon on his nose. “Maybe we don’t need to destroy the room?”
Kalim chirped in protest, clearly having the time of his life. He then waddled over to you, clutching the spoon like it was a treasure, and deposited it in your lap with a proud squeak.
“Well, at least he’s sharing,” you muttered, patting his head.
From the corner, Jamil was silently mouthing “thank you” over and over like a man who had just been freed from a lifetime of torment.
Kalim’s kiddie pool was more like a miniature lagoon, complete with floating toys and what looked suspiciously like a jewel-encrusted raft.
At some point, Kalim decided it would be fun to drag you into the water.
“Hey—wait, no!” you yelped as his surprisingly strong little paws grabbed at your sleeve, pulling you toward the pool. “I’m not getting in there!”
Kalim chirped insistently, his big otter eyes boring into your soul.
“Oh, come on,” you groaned. “Don’t give me that look.”
He gave you the look.
Five minutes later, you were sitting in the pool, soaked and glaring at Jamil, who was clearly struggling not to laugh.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you snapped.
“Immensely,” Jamil said, smirking.
After hours of otter chaos—during which Kalim managed to steal your shoe, splash water in your face, and attempt to juggle three golden coins—you finally sat back with a sigh.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, patting his head as he snuggled against you.
Kalim let out a happy chirp, his little paws clutching your hand. He looked so ridiculously adorable that, without thinking, you leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead.
There was a sudden burst of light, and when you opened your eyes, Kalim was sitting in front of you, back to his usual self—though still dripping wet and grinning ear to ear.
“You kissed me!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up like the sun.
“I—uh—well,” you stammered, your face heating up.
“Does this mean you like me?” he asked, tilting his head with an innocent smile.
Before you could respond, Jamil groaned from the corner. “Sevens, just ask them out already.”
Kalim turned to you, his grin widening. “Will you go out with me?”
You blinked at him, still processing the fact that you had just kissed an otter-turned-human. But then you smiled, nodding.
“Sure, Kalim.”
Kalim cheered, pulling you into a hug that nearly knocked you over. Meanwhile, Jamil sighed in relief, celebrating about finally getting some peace and quiet.
From the doorway, a passing student peeked in, took one look at the drenched mess of a room, and decided it was better not to ask.
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Vil Schoenheit
The day Vil Schoenheit turned into a peacock was the day you realized that your life at NRC was destined to never be normal.
“I don’t know how it happened!” Epel blurted, waving his hands in panic. “One second he was lecturing me about my skincare routine, and the next—poof! Peacock!”
“Of course, he’s a peacock,” you muttered, staring at the magnificent bird perched on the Pomefiore chaise lounge. The peacock in question—Vil—looked at you with a familiar haughty glare, which was impressive considering he now had beady bird eyes.
From the very beginning, Vil made it clear that he refused to be handled by anyone except you.
When Rook tried to approach him with a soothing poem about the beauty of nature, Vil screeched so loudly it sent even the huntsman scrambling.
When Epel tried to shoo him toward the door, Vil flared his tail feathers in a display so intimidating that Epel backed away, muttering, “This is worse than when he makes me wear lip gloss.”
But when you stepped forward, Vil immediately strutted over, his glossy feathers shimmering under the light. He circled you once before settling at your feet, letting out a dignified coo.
“Well, at least someone likes me,” you muttered, kneeling down to pat his head.
Vil preened under your touch, looking every bit the diva he was even in bird form.
Life with peacock Vil was… an adventure.
For one, he refused to eat anything that wasn’t served on fine china.
“Are you serious?” you asked, holding up a bowl of birdseed.
Vil turned his head away with a disdainful chirp, his tail feathers twitching in annoyance.
“Fine,” you groaned, dumping the seed onto a porcelain plate. “Happy now?”
Vil cooed in approval, delicately pecking at the food like it was a Michelin-star meal.
Then there was the incident with the mirror.
You found him perched in front of the Pomefiore vanity, admiring his reflection with an intensity that could only be described as borderline obsessive.
“You’re really leaning into the peacock thing, huh?” you teased.
Vil shot you a look that screamed How dare you, you pleb? before returning to his reflection, fluffing his feathers dramatically.
After a few days of peacock antics—including Vil refusing to let Epel touch his feathers (Glaring at him like he was screaming "He’s going to ruin them!”) and scaring off an unfortunate group of first-years with his aggressive tail display—you decided enough was enough.
“Alright, Vil,” you said, sitting down beside him. “We need to figure out how to fix this.”
Vil cooed softly, nuzzling against your hand.
You stared at him, your heart melting a little. He was undeniably cute in his current form, but you missed the human Vil—the one who could scold you for slouching and deliver a flawless monologue at the drop of a hat.
Without thinking, you leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his feathered head.
There was a blinding flash of light, and suddenly, you were no longer holding a peacock but a very human—and very flustered—Vil Schoenheit.
“You… kissed me,” he said, his cheeks turning an uncharacteristic shade of pink.
“I—uh—well, you were cute?” you offered weakly.
Vil blinked at you, his usual composure slipping as he processed your words. Then, to your surprise, a small smile tugged at his lips.
“Perhaps we should make this official,” he said smoothly, though the faint blush on his face betrayed his nerves. “Would you like to go out with me?”
You stared at him, your brain short-circuiting for a moment. Then, you smiled, nodding.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
Vil’s smile widened, and for the first time since he’d turned back, you saw the confident, radiant Vil you knew and admired.
From the doorway, Rook peeked in, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Ah, the beauty of true love!”
Epel groaned, muttering, “This is the weirdest dorm ever.”
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Idia Shroud
The day you were unceremoniously dragged into Idia’s room by Ortho, you knew something was amiss.
Ortho clasped his hands together as you stumbled inside. "Please take good care of Big Brother!"
“Wait, what?” you started, but Ortho was already zooming out the door, leaving you alone in the darkened chaos that was Idia’s sanctuary.
And there, sitting in the middle of the room on a glowing gaming chair, was a cat.
A very grumpy-looking cat with blue flame-like fur tips and unmistakable, judgmental yellow eyes.
“Idia?” you whispered, staring at the cat.
The cat hissed—its ears flat against its head. Yep, that was definitely Idia.
"Ortho wasn’t joking…" you muttered, inching closer.
Idia-the-cat glared at you, his tail swishing like a disapproving metronome. But as soon as you reached out a cautious hand, he hesitated before begrudgingly letting you scratch behind his ears.
He let out the tiniest, most reluctant purr.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, your grin growing. “You’re so cute like this.”
The purring immediately stopped, and Idia swatted your hand away with a mortified meow that screamed, Don’t push it.
It didn’t take long for you to realize Idia-the-cat was just as much of a shut-in as his human counterpart.
When you tried to offer him some cat toys Ortho had left behind, he ignored them completely—until you dangled a toy shaped like a gaming controller.
Then, he lunged at it with surprising ferocity, claws out and eyes gleaming with an intensity that said, This is serious business.
You had to stop him from knocking over his prized figurines while he chased the toy across the room.
“Idia, stop! That’s a limited edition!” you cried, diving to save a teetering anime girl statue.
Idia froze mid-pounce, his tail twitching guiltily.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you said, setting the figure back on its shelf. “You’re worse than Grim.”
Idia meowed in protest, and you could swear he was rolling his eyes.
After a few hours of babysitting Cat Idia—during which he refused to eat anything but snacks from his secret stash and managed to trap himself inside a VR headset—you were completely exhausted.
You flopped onto his bed, sighing. “Idia, you're my friend, but you’re so much work.”
The cat jumped up beside you, curling into a surprisingly neat ball. His flame-like fur glowed softly in the dim light, and for a moment, he actually looked peaceful.
Unable to resist, you leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his head.
There was a sudden flash of blue light, and you yelped as a very human—and very embarrassed—Idia Shroud appeared beside you.
“W-What just happened?!” he stammered, his face as red as his fiery hair tips.
You blinked at him, your brain struggling to reboot. “Uh… I think true love’s kiss broke the curse?”
Idia froze, his expression cycling between mortified and completely panicked.
“Wait, d-does that mean you… like me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because if you don’t, I-I’m just gonna go dig my own grave now—”
You cut him off with a laugh, your cheeks burning. “Yeah, I like you, you dummy.”
Idia stared at you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Then, after a moment, he managed a small, shy smile.
“I… like you too,” he mumbled, fiddling with a lock of his hair. “So, uh… do you maybe wanna… go out? Like, on a d-date or something?”
Your heart did a little flip. “I’d love that.”
From the doorway, Ortho peeked in, his face lighting up. “Brother, I knew you could do it! This is the best day ever!”
Idia groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Ortho, please!”
But despite his embarrassment, he couldn’t stop the small smile that lingered on his lips.
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Malleus Draconia
The day began like any other—except for the part where a massive dragon blocked the sunrise by parking itself right outside your window.
You blinked blearily, rubbing your eyes. Surely, this was a dream.
Then you heard an enthusiastic voice from below. "Good morning! Do you like your new dragon?"
You leaned out the window to see none other than Lilia Vanrouge, waving up at you with far too much cheer for this absurd situation. Beside him, Sebek was on his knees, his fists clenched, eyes practically bleeding tears of devotion—or frustration. Hard to tell with Sebek.
“Lilia,” you called down, “what the hell is that?” You pointed at the dragon, who was now looking at you with suspiciously familiar glowing green eyes.
“Oh, that’s Malleus!” Lilia replied, as though this was completely normal. “He seems to have had a little… magical mishap.”
“MISTAKE OF FATE, NOT A MISHAP!” Sebek roared, glaring up at you like it was somehow your fault. “AND THE YOUNG MASTER HAS CHOSEN YOU TO TEND TO HIS NOBLE FORM!”
You stared at the dragon—Malleus—again. His enormous tail thudded against the ground in what you could only assume was agreement.
“...You’ve got to be kidding me.”
After some coaxing (read: being dragged out by Sebek while you were still in your pajamas), you found yourself face-to-face with Dragon Malleus.
He lowered his massive head toward you, his glowing eyes narrowing in what you could only describe as smugness. When you hesitated, he huffed, a cloud of warm smoke billowing over you.
“Okay, okay, I get it! You want attention,” you grumbled, reaching up to pat his snout.
The dragon let out a low rumble of approval, curling his tail protectively around you.
Sebek sobbed dramatically in the background. “TO THINK THE YOUNG MASTER TRUSTS YOU ABOVE ALL OTHERS! IT IS BOTH AN HONOR AND A TRAVESTY!”
“Sebek, for the love of the Seven, stop yelling,” you snapped. “I already have a headache.”
Lilia chuckled from his perch on a nearby tree. “Oh, this is delightful. I wonder if I should be worried for you or amused by Malleus’s possessiveness.”
Dragon Malleus growled at Lilia, his tail sweeping protectively in front of you like a giant scaly barrier.
“Noted, noted!” Lilia said with a laugh, holding up his hands.
After a day of being followed around by a giant dragon who wouldn’t let you out of his sight (and growled at anyone who dared approach), you were officially at your wit’s end.
“Malleus,” you said, crossing your arms. “I know you’re stuck like this, but you can’t just… kidnap me for emotional support!”
Malleus blinked at you, his big dragon eyes somehow managing to look both sheepish and stubborn.
You sighed, stepping closer. “You’re kind of cute like this, though,” you admitted, reaching up to scratch his snout. His eyes half-closed in contentment, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
Then, on a whim, you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his scaly cheek.
There was a sudden burst of magic, and you stumbled back as the massive form of the dragon shimmered and shrank. In its place stood a very human—and very flustered—Malleus Draconia.
“Child of Man,” he said, his face uncharacteristically red. “Your… your kiss… it broke the spell.”
You stared at him, your brain buffering. “Wait, true love’s kiss was the answer?!”
Malleus nodded solemnly. “Indeed.”
From behind you, Lilia cackled. “Oh, how romantic! A tale for the ages!”
Sebek, meanwhile, looked like he was about to have a heart attack. “T-T-THE YOUNG MASTER’S TRUE LOVE?! UNBELIEVABLE!”
Malleus stepped closer, his expression softening as he looked down at you. “If this spell has revealed anything, it is that my feelings for you are genuine. Will you allow me to court you properly?”
You blinked, your face heating up. “Uh… yeah. Sure. But maybe next time, we skip the whole ‘giant possessive dragon’ thing?”
Malleus chuckled, taking your hand. “Anything for you, my treasure.”
Sebek fainted on the spot.
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Masterlist
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foldingfittedsheets · 11 months ago
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When deciding who to work for there is a sliding scale of employers that goes from lil mom and pop shops up to corporate monoliths. I have worked at both ends of the spectrum and I can pretty definitively say that tiny businesses are hands down the most insane employers.
The sweet spot is a place that has like 10-20 stores; that’s the best possible work environment. They’ll be polished enough to have protocols that make work structured, but not so bogged down with bureaucracy that nothing can ever get done.
This story is not from that sweet spot. This story is from my time working at Oil and Vinegar. Now, like many little franchise stores, the idea was solid. There was on tap imported olive oil and vinegar and it was really delicious. Top shelf. Unfortunately, each location was like the Wild West because owners varied wildly.
My owner was the human embodiment of Mr. Krabbs. His eyes were just constant dollar signs. Throughout my training he informed me of the price of every single piece of equipment I touched and how much it cost to replace it.
He had cameras set up to watch us, and an app on his phone to access the live feed. He’d call us to ask what we were doing when he’d just checked a camera to make sure we were being honest.
Now, the trouble was he had two locations. His location further south did amazing. It was way more centrally located and got three times the foot traffic. The one I worked in was in the snottiest mall possible in Arizona and consequently the rent was through the roof.
It was not going well for my store. We didn’t get as much traffic, so there was only so much I could do in a day. I could dust, sweep, and wait for customers. I read a lot and was frank when he called to interrogate me. I always asked for additional tasks but he never had any. What could I do to prop up a failing business?
But this man was convinced there was some Secret Reason that the store I was in was doing worse. He crunched numbers, looked at staff, and eventually hit upon the most insane possible solution.
We used too much toilet paper.
We were probably stealing toilet paper! Bleeding him dry one single ply square at a time! How dare we need to use the bathroom?! His south location used half as much toilet paper as we did, we must be thieving little monsters!!!!
Friends. The south location was populated entirely by men. My location had three people on staff who had to sit to pee. It was so blindly transparently the source of the discrepancy but this man was convinced we were making off with toilet paper to bankrupt him.
So he implemented what he believed to be an entirely reasonable response to this base treachery. We were allowed to have one roll of toilet paper. At any given time, one roll was permitted to us. This was so transparently unhinged that we protested but he insisted. If we were low on toilet paper we needed to call him to drop off a roll that he brought from his home. Smiling jovially, he assured us he lived so close by that it would be no problem!
When we needed to call him often for more he started tearing his hair out. What were we using toilet paper for?! Why wasn’t his genius plan to stop our scandalous waste working??!
Finally, the manager, the only man on staff had to pull the owner aside and be like, “Look, man, their bladders are smaller. They need to wipe every time they pee. They need to pee even more on their period. Is this really the hill you want to die on?”
Yes. It was. The manager was fired unrelated reasons and denounced as a traitor. The toilet paper ration lasted until I quit and probably until the store closed six months later.
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pearlymel · 17 days ago
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Frail state of mind
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Sum. What happens when you give caleb aphrodisiac candy instead of normal ones on his birthday? Find out in the next episode...
Warnings. fem reader, mdni, use of aphrodisiacs, unprotected, 2.2k words. Also, happy one year to me writing on this account whaaat. Ily.
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Caleb feels weird.
Or to be exact, his body feels weird, like he's on fire. Oh no, did he develop a fever? Right when you both were going to celebrate his birthday?
His breathing becomes slightly heavier as he looks around, from the ceiling, to the candy drops, to you, then back to the candy drops.
“how did you like the candy? Sour?”
His eyes narrow, and he presses his lips together repeatedly to catch the after taste of the candy.
It was sour, with a slight sweet aftertaste.
He felt like he couldn't even focus properly with how fast his heart was beating. You definitely noticed the way his cheeks have turned from their usual pale shade into a dusty light pink.
For a long, long moment he just stared at you, dumbfounded and unable to do anything else.
"Yeah, right," he finally said, his voice a bit higher than usual. "Is this your idea of a prank?”
So he did caught on, although slower than he usually would.
“Happy birthday?” you smile innocently.
I'm gonna die, is what goes through his head.
"Yeah, some birthday it is," he muttered, letting out a stifled breath as the heat began to pool in his lower abdomen. "And the side effects?"
He was trying his best to keep a cool head, but it was getting increasingly difficult when all he wanted to do was to grab you by the arm and force you to kneel in front of him and—
"Whaaaat?" you purposely avoid his eyes while slowly taking your seat next to him, "what side affects? They're just normal candies, do you not like them?"
Caleb grumbled under his breath, shifting on the couch in an attempt to relieve the growing ache in his pants. You didn't need to be that close to him
With his cheeks flushed and his dark eyes glued to you, he clenched his fist and tried his best to keep his thoughts in check. "You don't understand," he muttered, his voice dropping a bit lower. "It's not regular candy, I can.." Feel something.
You raise an eyebrow, then your eyes catch the real problem, the obvious erection which looked almost painful.
“you think i gave you some sort of aphrodisiac?” you gasp dramatically, but really, you're trying not to laugh. The effects worked almost instantly. “baby, i would never. On your birthday? No way…”
"Uh-huh," he hummed with an arched eyebrow, now having a hard time focusing on something other than you. He was getting hotter and hotter, and you were still so close to him. So close, within reach.
He tried to subtly move back, but the way his shirt was sticking to his skin only made him more irritated. "Then why does it feel like I'm on fire, huh?”
You place your hand on his knee, “maybe i look too hot for you?”
"You're not wrong," he replied between gritted teeth, biting back a moan when you put a hand on his knee.
"...." you stare at him closely, you're not exactly sure how long the side effects were supposed to last. But you were a bit... Worried.
"are you okay?" you finally break the teasing act to feel his neck using the back of your hand, and Caleb groans at the touch, his body automatically leaning into your hand to seek more of the cool comfort it provided.
With a shaky sigh, he managed a soft, "Yeah... 'm alright."
Truth was, he was far from alright. His skin felt like it was on fire, and every little contact sent a jolt of electric heat straight into his cock. He was straining to keep up his self-control, but it was getting harder by the second.
“something else doesn't look alright..” you voice your concern quietly when you eye the erection he's been sporting for a while..
He spreads his legs slightly wider before his gaze follows yours, and he could feel his face turn even hotter as he realized what you were looking at.
He hastily tried to adjust his pants to hide the obvious tent that had formed, but there was no use. (it's not like he wants to hide it. He wants to show you how much he wants you by teasing you more if he could.)
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tried to find his voice. "It's... it's nothing," he lied weakly.
You shook your head, thinking to get him some water without feeling too flustered about the situation, “that won't do, I'll get you some water.”
Water…?
Caleb fidgeted with the hem of his dress shirt, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the fabric. "No. I just… need you, please..." he murmured, the word turning into a pleading whine.
"oh," you blink twice, feeling almost stupid that you were actually supposed to help.
He practically whimpered as you just stood there, and he couldn't take it anymore, it was too much.
He reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you closer until you were sitting in his lap. He then wrapped an arm around your waist, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek.
"Please," he repeated, his voice shaky and desperate. "Touch me. Anywhere. Just... please.”
"easy, big guy." you grin, moving the strands away from his forehead to kiss the empty spot.
Caleb groaned as your lips touched his skin, your lips moves from his forehead, to his nose, then his cheeks.
He tilted his head back, a needy sound escaping his throat as you continued to pepper his face with kisses. He was desperate for more, his body arching upwards in an attempt to get closer to you, while his hands ran over your body, skimming over your dress, desperate for skin-on-skin contact.
Caleb feels his mind going blank when you dart your tongue out to wet his dry lips before taking his mouth into yours messily.
His every thought focused solely on you and the way your body was moving against his. The friction was both a relief and a tease, causing him to moan again, the sound muffled by your mouth on his.
You pull away first, “be a good boy for me, yeah?” you whisper before pressing another peck to his lips.
If caleb wasn't fully hard earlier, then he is now.
You tugged at his belt, taking it off to help him slide his pants off, along with his almost ruined (Calvin Klein) boxers.
Caleb immediately moans shamelessly with his head falling back the minute your thumb rubbed over the sensitive dark red head of his cock. The slow, sensual rubs makes his whole body shiver, and his hips jerks upwards involuntarily.
“a-ah, fuck,” the words slip out in an almost whiny tone, he could almost, almost cum like this. But he wouldn't, not until you cum first, because that would be selfish of him, no?
Plus he liked seeing you come undone first anyway.
Lost in the distraction of teasing him, you don't even notice his shaky hands parting your thighs, it's only when you suddenly feel fingers skimming over your inner thighs until they found the damp fabrics of your panties, is when you shudder in place.
Without any warning, he rubbed two fingers over your clothed clit, his touch firm yet slow, just like how you've been touching him.
“Caleb,” you try closing your thighs together, but to no avail, as his free hand is keeping one of your thighs firmly in place. his eyes are focused down while his thumb hikes up your dress further to reveal his fingers that's been teasing you.
He rubbed over your clothed slit again, “looks like someone is excit—” Caleb's words were cut off by a gasp when your thumb circled around the weeping tip of his cock, smearing the bead of precum around the swollen head.
You could feel your heart beat right in your ears, the touches is not enough, you need him. As much as he needs you.
You finally pull his wrist away, and at first he's confused, but his eyes widen when you slip your panties off, and biting the hem of your dress to reveal more of your pussy and stomach.
Caleb could faint at the absolute goddess in front of him (you), he should be shot right om the spot for even trying something like this with y—
“honey, hurry, I'll make you feel allll better.”
He done. He can already imagine the wedding bells, house, and kids.
Caleb presses the swollen tip of his cock against your slick entrance. His lips are parted shakily as he rubs it along your slit, coating himself in your arousal, marking his cock with your scent.
When he reached the top of your slit, he circled your clit with the tip, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves until you were a squirming mess in his lap.
“y-you—! fuck, feels good—” you pant, your eyes almost half lidded as his hips roll to bump against your clit with each rotation.
While keeping his eyes locked on your face, he slowly pushed forward, sinking his thick cock into your tight, dripping cunt.
"Ohh, fuck yeah..." Caleb moaned long and low as he felt your walls stretch around him, inch by inch, he slid deeper, until he was buried to the hilt.
Caleb's grip tightened on your hips, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard as he matched your rhythm, slamming up into you that sent your back arching into him, his free hands are clutching your dress to keep him in check, also sliding up to give your breasts gentle squeezes.
The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your shared moans and panting breaths.
"Shit, baby, you feel... ungh... fucking incredible," he grunted, his hips snapping up to meet each downward bounce of your hips, and he could feel your walls fluttering and clenching around him, sucking him in deeper.
"Wanna... want you to come on my cock, pips," Caleb demanded, his voice a desperate, needy whine. His thumb found your clit, rubbing hard and fast circles over the sensitive nub. The other hand slid around to grip the globes of your ass, squeezing and kneading the firm flesh.
Caleb’s head falls back when he feels your cunt clamp down around him like a vice, squeezing and milking his throbbing cock. "j-just like that, honey," he whispered, his eyes rolling back from the feeling of you coming undone around him.
With a final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside your spasming cunt, and then he was coming, coming harder than he ever had in his life.
"you’re gonna take it all, yeah, pips? k-keep it in there for Caleb, shit—" Caleb snarled, his hips jerking and stuttering as he emptied himself inside you. His balls pulsed and throbbed as they pumped out spurt after spurt of his spent, filling you to the brim until it leaked out around his pistoning cock.
caleb’s head falls back on your chest as he takes big breaths, his thumbs rubbing circles on your sides. and your arms encircles around his shoulders as you rest your face on top of his head.
“… happy birthday, hope you enjoyed your lil gift… heh,”
“i’m giving the candies to gideon.”
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butyoudidthis4what · 2 months ago
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No Man's Land
Jack Abbot x f!Reader
5.1k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || C.W.: mentions of blood, mentions of guns and shootings, mentions of death/dying/coding, CPR, anxiety about partner's safety, Jack's traumatized, reader's traumatized, mentions of dissociation and compartmentalization, poor description of medical events, potentially incorrect medical descriptions/knowledge, very very light smut, angst, age gap kind of implied with Jack but not explicitly referenced, no use of y/n or related, not proofread, no beta, I think that's all but if I missed any please (nicely) let me know.
Summary: This is my Pitt-Fest-But-Not fic. Development of your relationship through vignettes of the past and conversations between Jack, Dana and Robby. There's a shooting where you work. Jack is at the ED when the dispatch comes in and is terrified when he can't get in touch with you.
A.N.: If my Robby reads like John Carter I'm sorry, except that a little bit I'm not. I feel like I'm struggling with my Jack characterization but can't tell if that's just me hating everything I do. This is my take on one of my fave tropes where reader is in mortal danger. I needed a physical location that could be associated with reader and settled on a courthouse, but what it is reader does there is not described. Probably (definitely?) needs a part two. If you get the nickname, thank you, I feel seen. If you don't I explain it at the end. This is absolutely something I would call him, in part to fuck with people who know his real name. I would love to know if you enjoyed and to hear any thoughts you'd like to share.
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“He has a girlfriend,” Robby smirks at Dana. 
She blinks at him. “I’m sorry, I thought we were talking about Jack Abbot.”
“Oh we fucking are.” Robby stifles his smirk and forces his lips to remain closed and as neutral as possible. 
“You’re shitting me.” Dana’s incredulous look breaks Robby a bit and he starts to laugh, tries to turn it into a cough when both he and Dana look up to find Jack staring at them as he takes his snow dusted beanie off. He gives Robby a ‘really?’ look even though he knew Robby would rat him out to Dana the second Robby had dragged it out of him. 
Dana looks back at Robby. “Who? How did they meet?”
Robby holds up his hands. “You now officially know as much as I do about her.” Dana makes a noise of vague discontent but knows Jack well enough to know Robby is telling the truth. That’s all that’s been revealed. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“It’s not worth it,” you whisper. Jack blinks and looks around, unsure if you’re talking to him. He has no idea who you are, has never seen you before in his life but it appears that you are in fact whispering to him in the middle of this bookstore. 
He raises his eyebrows. “It’s not?”
You shake your head, give him an almost conspiratorial smile. “No, he must have gotten a new ghost writer. It’s really bad in comparison to his other stuff. Save your time and money. I’ll give you a summary right now for free if you’re that curious.”
Jack smiles to himself a little bit as he sets the book back on the shelf. There’s something about you, your smile, the way you just randomly spoke to him. He’s drawn to you. An alarm goes off in some part of his brain telling him to ignore it, ignore you, he could get hurt. He pretends to weigh his options as he turns to face you fully. “How about for a cup of coffee?”
Your brows furrow in confusion for a moment. There’s simply no way this unfairly attractive man is asking to buy you a cup of coffee. “The summary?” You clarify. “That I’d give for free. You want it to cost a cup of coffee instead?” You let out a nervous laugh and some part of his heart aches because you’re so adorable. “I just want to make sure I understand before I potentially make an even bigger fool of myself.” 
“Yep.” He can’t help but laugh a little. “You give me the summary over coffee. Actually, you know what? You’re going to have to give me a recommendation too because now I’m going to have nothing to read.” He clicks his tongue at you. 
“Well,” you laugh out, all breathy as you try to pull yourself together. “You drive a hard bargain but I think I’m willing to accept those terms…” you glance at his name badge, “Dr. Abbot.” You give him a full smile and Jack knows then and there he’s totally fucked in the best of ways. 
“Jack.” He smiles at you as you both begin walking towards the café. “Call me Jack.”
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Everything quiet enough after handoff, Robby walks out with Jack into the morning sun that does little to warm the breeze pulling leaves off the trees. “Any chance you can cover a shift on Thursday night?” Robby is asking, yes, but he knows it’s not really a question, Jack is always willing to work.
“Can’t.” Jack says simply, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.” There’s an expectant silence that hangs between the two as they keep walking.
“Care to elaborate?” Robby finally asks.
“No.” Jack turns and smirks at him. “It’s none of your and Dana’s business.”
“Ha!” Robby laughs. “So it’s her, it’s about her! The ever elusive girlfriend. Will we ever get to meet her? Or does she not want to meet us? Is she real?” Jack stops walking and gives Robby one of his looks. “Holy shit, is it someone here?”
Jack snorts at that. “No it’s not someone here. She’s not even in the medical field.” He sighs, half longing and half resignation of some kind. “She’s honestly dying to meet you guys, especially you and Dana, but I’m trying to protect her from this hellhole. It’s hard with schedules too, to find a time.”
“That’s such fucking bullshit,” Robby laughs. “Are you afraid to truly commit? Think bringing her here will make it too real?” 
It’s a valid question but one that Jack nevertheless resents. “No, actually, if you must fucking know Thursday is our one year anniversary. We have plans. So you’ll have to find someone else to cover. But I’ll bring her around soon,” he laughs through his nose to himself at your stubbornness, “if I don’t she’s liable to just show up one of-”
“A year?” Robby laughs, incredulous. “A fucking year? How the hell did you hide it for three months before I dragged it out of you?”
Jack ignores him. “Also, I’m moving to days. It’s better for us.” He’s so nonchalant about it, just states it like he’s saying the sky is blue, like it’s not going to make Robby’s eyes widen and mouth drop open like it does.
“I don’t,” Robby huffs a laugh, “I don’t even know where to fucking begin.”
“Then don’t.” Jack smirks, starts to walk again while Robby stays frozen, running a hand through his hair. “Go do some actual work.”
“I thought you found comfort in the darkness?” Robby yells after him. 
Jack slows and turns around but keeps walking backwards, one hand holding the strap of his backpack to keep it over his shoulder. He glances down at his phone and the photo of you that is now his wallpaper. He smiles to himself a little, yells back. “Guess I find it somewhere else now.”
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You giggle, honest to god giggle and Jack could lose his damn mind as he nibbles at your collarbone. “You know if my anatomy class had been this fun, I might have become a doctor too.” 
You’re laying on your back in bed as Jack kisses your sweat slicked skin all over as you both come down from your last round. He’s taken to 'teaching you anatomy' like this, identifying different parts of the human body with his mouth.
“Hmm,” Jack hums against you. “I’m glad it wasn’t then. Fuck doctors.” He starts to kiss down your chest. 
“That has become quite the favorite pastime of mine, yes,” you smirk. “Fucking one specific doctor, actually.” 
“Getting fucked by one specific doctor more like it,” he murmurs into your sternum. He kisses laterally, lips hitting your breast and moving towards your nipple. 
“I think we’ve established what those are,” you moan softly as he takes your nipple into his mouth. You let your hands run through his salt and pepper curls that you adore so much. 
“Can never be too thorough.” You giggle at him again and can feel him smile against you. “But fine, you want something new?” You nod, let your nails scratch gently at his scalp. 
“Nipple,” he kisses your nipple and then down your torso to right above your belly button, “to navel is no man’s land.” He continues to lavish kisses on the soft skin of your stomach before looking up at you when you don’t respond. 
“I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not.” You eye him with mock suspicion. 
He laughs and it’s your favorite sound in the whole world, you swear. Well maybe second, only behind hearing him tell you that he loves you. 
“I’m not. Nipple to navel is no man’s land. It’s a real thing. It’s one of the worst places to get shot or stabbed because there’s so many organs that could be hit and the place we’d expect to get hit would depend on whether the person was breathing in or out at the time, whether their lungs were inflated or deflated. And we generally have no way of knowing. It can be difficult to get clear imaging.” He starts kissing lower, down below your belly button, rubbing his stubble along your skin to tease you as he gets lower and lower. “It’s never a good time. Lots of poor outcomes.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s supposed to be his day off and yet Jack finds himself staring at the board and running a hand over his face. “It’s still so fucking weird seeing you here during the day and it not meaning something catastrophic has happened.” 
Jack turns to look at Dana. “I’ve been working days for a month now and it’s my day off.”
“You can go, we’re fine for now,” Robby nods at Jack. “Thanks for the brief assistance brother.”
“No, no,” Dana interjects, “he’s not allowed to leave until we nail down a time to meet his girl.” 
Robby raises his eyebrows and starts to tilt his head and open his mouth to agree with Dana. A dispatch comes through before anyone can say anything else and Dana grabs it, pinning Jack down with her eyes, daring him to leave before discussing meeting you. 
“Saved by the bell,” Jack huffs, taking his stethoscope off and starting to walk away. 
“Shooting at a courthouse,” Dana relays to Robby, “not a mass cas, just a few people, two a little iffy, one they’re already doing CPR on, a few caught in the race to get out. Two dead on the scene.”
It takes a few seconds for Dana’s words to truly register with Jack, but when they do his hearing fades to only a sharp ringing in his ear. This wasn’t happening. He’d been so reticent at the beginning of your relationship, waited so long to give in and define it and hand his heart over to you, terrified he’d lose you because of himself and who he was, his imperfections, his past, his trauma, his PTSD, his baggage, as he thought of it. He feels so stupid now, in the moment, not having worried about how he could lose you from a random act of violence, that in the moments he can’t be there to protect you somebody could come in and rip you from him. Just like that. With the pull of a trigger. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You know, I can confidently say this is the most unique date I’ve ever been on,” you tease Jack. 
“Hey,” he pants, “me teaching you CPR is a great date.” 
“It would be better if you took your shirt off,” you whisper and wink at him before letting your eyes linger on his arm. 
“If I did that you’d be so distracted you’d learn nothing,” he smirks at you, sweat glistening on his skin just a little. Just enough to drive you nearly feral for him. 
 “I think I’ve got the compressions part down, but I may need more help learning the mouth to mouth part.”
He rolls his eyes at you. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You fucking love it,” you shoot back at him, leaning into his space and bumping him with your shoulder. 
He can’t help but kiss you. “Yes,” the word is muffled against your lips, “yes I do.” He gives you a firmer kiss this time before he pulls away. “But really. You should know how to do it, just in case. It will help you feel in control in the moment if the need for it ever arises. You’ll know what to do.”
You bite your lip and smile at him. 
“What?” He eyes you with suspicion. 
You shrug. “Nothing, I just love you so much. Sometimes it overwhelms me, how much I love you.”
He can see it in your eyes, how much you love him, can almost feel it physically squeezing him like a tight hug. He’s really not sure what he ever did to deserve you or your love. “I love you too, Doll.”
“I love you more, Peter.” Your face pulls up into that usual self-satisfied and silly grin you get sometimes when you call him that nickname. It’s a recent thing. You’re calling him it more and more though, it’s becoming a natural way of referring to him. From anyone else he would hate it, hearing it between another couple would make him roll his eyes. But from you? He loves it more than you’ll ever truly know. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack spins around.
“Jack you can still go, we’ve got it covered.” Robby looks at Jack for a minute and then meets Dana’s eyes as she looks to him after taking her own look at Jack. 
“What courthouse?” Jack asks. It’s quiet, controlled and clipped and almost missable in the chaos of the ED. He’s not looking at either of them, staring past them at a wall with a chest heaving more and more by the second as his face grows paler. 
He tries to keep it together. Dana will say the name and it won’t be your courthouse and he’ll go straight to your actual courthouse, grab you, take you home and never let you leave. A perfectly reasonable reaction, he thinks.
“Jack-”
“What fucking courthouse?” It’s louder this time, almost enough to pause the chaos of the ED. 
Jack’s voice drips with what sounds like rage to most of those who hear him but is unmistakably fear to Dana and Robby. 
Neither of them have ever seen Jack like this, this scared, struggling this hard to keep it together, truly raising his voice for anything other than to quiet down an unruly patient. His eyes find Dana’s and they’re glassier than she’s ever seen them, the intensity of his gaze making it painfully clear he’s hanging on every word and the wrong ones will shatter him. 
She swallows and opens her mouth and Jack knows what she’s about to say before she even says it. And she does. The name of your courthouse. 
“I’ll triage.” He says it before Dana has even finished, the words hollow and breathless and commanding all at once. He spins and starts off to the bay doors with nothing more. He obviously knows from the report Dana gave that they won’t need triage. He just needed to get out of there and try to create an excuse to stay in the ambulance bay. He knows Robby won’t let him, that Robby and Dana already know you’re at that courthouse, could be a victim. 
Robby and Dana share another look, So you work at a courthouse. This courthouse. “Fuck,” Dana mutters, “I really hope we don’t end up meeting her today.”
Jack’s hand dives in his pocket as he strides to the ambulance bay. He already knows in his heart that there’s not going to be a text from you saying that you’re okay. He hasn’t felt his phone buzz. He never even kept his phone on him until you. 
Even though he knew he wouldn’t have any messages, waking his phone and seeing none hits him like a freight train all the same, right in the chest. It threatens to bring him to his knees, make him sick, but he can’t. He sets it all aside. If you do come out of one of the ambulances he can hear in the distance you’re going to need him at his best. But what if you’re one of the two people dead at the scene? He has to shove that out of his mind too, can’t give into the complete panic that threatens to consume him. 
Disassociate. Compartmentalize. Do the job. ABC. Assess. Stabilize. Repeat.
His fingers fly across his phone automatically, calling you having become so routine. He prefers it so much to texting, hearing your voice, communicating more directly. “Call me,” he starts, “the second you get this message. Or fucking text me,” his voice breaks, “please. Fucking please.” He hangs up and calls again, knowing he’ll get your voicemail again but trying anyway because it’s all he can do. 
He’s helpless, powerless, he can’t do anything to try and save you and that threatens to swallow him whole. 
Your voicemail recording telling people to leave a message plays again and all Jack can wonder is if this is all he’ll have left of your voice in his life. Your voice on your mailbox, maybe some voicemails you’ve left him, videos, voice memos you’ve sent. All distorted by recording, not your real voice. He can’t remember what your real voice sounds like all of the sudden. What your laugh sounds like, how you sound when you’re sleepy or in the throes of pleasure or telling him you love him. God, did he even tell you he loved you the last time he saw you, when he said goodbye? 
“I need you to call me,” he says into the phone again, pauses. “I love you.” He takes a ragged breath in and speaks through his teeth. “I love you so fucking much, so you have to be okay and you have to fucking call me.”
He sends a series of texts asking you to call him or text him or call the hospital or do anything to let him know you’re okay, asking if you are okay, asking where you are as though you’re going to respond. He already knows you’re in the back of one of those ambulances because of fucking course you are, because he’s not allowed to have anything good in his life apparently. How could he be so stupid to think differently?  
“Hey, we don’t need triage for this. The numbers are controlled.” Robby walks out to stand next to Jack in the ambulance bay. “If you want to stay you can, but you can’t wait out here to see who shows up, you have to-”
“Yeah, yeah, jump on the first patient that pulls up, I know, I got it,” he interrupts Robby. 
There’s a silence as Robby passes him a gown and ties for him before he does the same for Robby. 
“Jack, if she’s in one you cannot-”
“Like fuck I can’t.” It’s just a statement. Cool and collected and a projection of indifference. It scares Robby more than if Jack had yelled. 
“No, actually brother, you can’t. I’m telling you right now. You’re not working on her. We don’t work on family, on significant others, and you would tell me the exact same thing. It’s too risky, you’ll be too clouded.” Robby watches Jack’s jaw clench and roll as he stares out at the street. 
He wants to argue that of course he’ll be clear, he’ll be focusing on saving you, he’ll have never been so clear in his life. But part of him knows that seeing you like that on his trauma table, your blood all over the table and him and his hands might make him freeze.
“Fine.” Jack whispers. “But if she’s,” Jack has to pause and take a shuddery breath. “If she’s gone or really going and it’s inevitable you have to let me in. You have to let me try to save her. You have to let me code her, Michael.”
He can taste the rising bile in his throat just at having to talk about coding you.
The first ambulance pulls up before Robby can respond and Jack’s on it so fast Robby’s surprised Jack doesn’t get smacked in the face by the door opening. 
It’s not you. It’s someone who is very much not you and is clearly one of the iffy ones. 
Disassociate. Compartmentalize. Do the job. ABC. Assess. Stabilize. Repeat.
Jack forces himself to go emotionally numb as he listens to the paramedic rattle off vitals and history, trying so very hard to focus on this, something he can do, even if it’s not for you. By the time they hit trauma one Jack’s fine and in full swing, running it like he would any other trauma. Nobody on the team in the room with him suspects anything is amiss.  
He hates the way he can’t see the other’s who come in, that he has to stay with this patient until they’re stable and can’t go looking for you. He chastises himself for not having brought you here before or at least having you meet Dana and Robby. They don’t even know what you look like, couldn’t identify you.
“Jack!” He glances at Dana who stands at the door as he preps for the chest tube. “What’s her name?”
He yells your name at her, impassive and stoic as he reaches for the scalpel, ignoring the looks everyone throws each other at the slightest tremor in his voice.
“I’ll look for her.” Dana promises. He doesn’t respond. He can’t. He’ll fall apart. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The restaurant you’re at has to be the fanciest place you’ve ever been to. It’s the hottest place in the city and you have no idea how Jack snagged reservations here for dinner to finish out celebrating your one year anniversary. 
The lighting and low hum of other patrons talking to each other and glasses and silverware and plates tinkling is cinematic. You feel like the main character. But then that’s always how Jack makes you feel. 
“I got you something.” He pulls out a wrapped rectangular object. 
You click your tongue and tsk at him. “We said we’d do them at home! I didn’t bring yours!”
“I know. I have something for you at home too.” His eyes sparkle in the flickering candle light, a little smirk pulling up. “I didn’t mean for it to be a double entendre, but both are true.” You snort a laugh at him and take the gift from him. “Open it.” He’s still smiling, eyes still sparkling,  but there’s something there. He’s nervous. It makes you even more curious. 
You carefully unwrap the object until it reveals itself as a hardcover book. That same one Jack had in his hand a year ago and that you told him was bad and gave him a summary of over coffee. 
“Oh, Jack,” you say softly, eyes getting a little watery. It’s so perfect. So sweet and sentimental. The book that brought you together, that gave you each other. It’s almost like a physical representation of the foundation of your relationship in a way. 
“You have to open it,” he instructs you in a whisper.
You raise an eyebrow but do as he says. 
‘Move in with me?’ is written on the blank first page. 
You look between the page and Jack. “Is this?” You look back at the page and then up at him again. “Are you really asking…?”
He nods. “Move in with me. Or move somewhere with me, we can get our own place, it doesn’t have to be my apartment. We basically live together anyway at this point. Let’s just make it official, yeah? Wherever you want, you can decorate however you want. Just as long as it’s our place.”
You bring a hand to your mouth for a second before using your napkin to dab at the inner corners of your eyes to stop the tears from falling and look back at him. 
“You’re a romantic, Jack Abbot,” you hum all dreamily. 
“You better not tell anyone. Can’t have you ruining my street cred.” He smirks, but his expression and the way he fidgets show he’s still anxious. “So?”
You realize then you never actually answered him. Sniffling a little laugh and letting a few tears fall you give him his answer, voice thick and full of emotion. “Yeah, I think I’m willing to accept those terms. I’d love to move in with you… Peter.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He hears you counting to yourself before he sees you. “One, two…”
It’s not loud, just said in a normal voice, softer if anything because of how you’re panting, but Jack is so on edge and so desperate to find you he’d subconsciously been listening closely to his surroundings, military training kicking in. His head snaps to you and he doesn’t even know what to think when he sees you being rolled in on top of a gurney, performing CPR that would rival the quality of his own. 
“Why is she..?” He hears Robby question the paramedic as you roll in. 
“She was performing them just as well as we could and it was better to just scoop and run,” the paramedic explains. “She must have had one hell of an instructor.”
“Peter!” You yell, without looking up, not sure if he’s still here. You’re so used to it by now that the nickname is just what comes out of your mouth as you look for him. He’d texted you to let you know he was going in for a bit.  
Jack could sob and the entire team in the room with him can feel a crushing tension shatter. Maybe he does get a little teary just from the sheer relief. He tells himself it’s sweat in his eyes.
“Yeah Doll?” He yells back, not giving a fuck about everyone hearing him call you Doll, and you calling him Peter, knowing full well he’s going to have so much explaining to do about this entire situation, the confusion in the room palpable. 
“I’m okay!” This time he does laugh to himself. 
“Yeah I’d say so,” he mutters, smiling. He’s still anxious to see you, get his own eyes on you, feel you with his own hands. 
It’s only about thirty more seconds before his patient is stable enough and he can rip his gloves and gown off and start putting fresh gloves on as he walks into the trauma room you’d been wheeled into. Normally he’d yell out for someone to talk to him or ask what they’ve got but not this time. This time he doesn’t even care about who’s on the table, only the person who came off it. Only you. 
You’re standing to the side now, watching Robby and the rest of the team work, impassive as pink tears stream down your face from the dried blood on it. You’re just so fucking overwhelmed by everything and now that you’re not doing CPR everything that’s happened is hitting you at once. 
Jack says your name as he moves to you, needs his hands on you. 
“Are you hurt? Were you hit?” He rushes out. His voice brings you back and you look up at him with wide, terrified eyes. He goes to look you over but you latch onto him, hugging him tightly, shaking a bit. 
“I’m fine, I’m okay, I’m, I’m sorry,” you start to rattle off, fisting at his scrub top and clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. In the moment he might just be. 
He hugs you back just as hard, kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t care who sees right now, all he cares about is you. “It’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m just so fucking glad you’re okay. I thought… I thought you were…” He doesn’t have to finish, you know what he means. “I can’t fucking lose you. I love you way the fuck too much.”
You’ve been so wrapped up in each other neither of you have noticed that Robby’s patient, the one you were doing CPR on, has started to code again. “Abbot, need you here!”
You let him go, nod at him. “Go on,” you whisper, “I’ll be right here. I’m okay. I love you more.” Jack nods at you and walks over, jumping in and assisting Robby.
It’s once you’re out of Jack’s arms, away from his warm body and more grounded in reality that you notice how cold you are, how you’re swaying because he was supporting you far more than you realized, how lightheaded you are, how your abdomen and chest really fucking hurt. You chalk it up to the adrenaline wearing off and being sore from the chest compressions you just did. 
On the other side of the room an instrument tray gets knocked over, metal hitting the floor in a loud clang. It startles you, makes you jump and twist quickly to see what it was, if it was another gun, another shot. You feel something almost tearing, a sharp pain across your abdomen and lower chest, a feeling of sticky warmth against your shirt.
You sway a little, start to realize how much worse the pain is now. It’s bad enough that you can’t even make noise to express the pain. There’s no air in your lungs, you swear. You realize your lightheadedness is now much, much worse, that you’re shivering from how cold you are. Or are you just shaking? You can’t tell. It doesn’t make sense. The room isn’t even that cold. You shouldn’t be so cold. Not unless.
You pull your shirt up slowly and look down and run your hand over your skin and sure enough, there’s a bullet hole seeping blood, about half way between your nipple line and belly button, skin now covered in a dark bruise. 
You cough a little, it’s quiet. It starts feeling like there’s water in your lungs. Like you can’t get any oxygen in even though you’re in a room full of it. The metallic taste in your mouth is what manages to seep into what’s left of your consciousness next. You cough again, into your hand, and feel something wet hit your skin. Blood. 
It hits you. You’re drowning in your own blood. That’s why it feels like you can’t breathe. You’ve been shot. In a bad place, one of the worst places, Jack had told you that night. You get scared, feel your heart pounding. It feels like you’re dying. You don’t want to die, don’t want to leave Jack. You’d just finished moving into your new place together, were going to spend all weekend unpacking and painting and getting furniture where you wanted it. You were going to make your home.
Time. You were supposed to have more time together.
“Hey, Jack,” you slur softly, struggling to keep yourself standing. Luckily he hears you. Your use of his first name and the slur to your voice has him panicking again already. Time slows as he turns around to take you in, eyes going from your face and the blood coating your teeth and trickling from your mouth as you try and smile reassuringly at him, down to your torso where you’re still holding your shirt up just enough for him and everyone else in the room to see the bullet hole and bruising marring your skin. “I think, I think I’m not good, it’s not good.” Your vision tunnels so fast you can just barely see Jack’s expression of sheer abject unadulterated horror and panic as you get out your last words. “Nipples to navel… no man’s land.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter. Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter. Yes, I worked in a bookstore through college.
Part Two is up!
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redr0sewrites · 1 year ago
Text
NNN Hcs With The Hashiras
🥀A/n: the title says it all!! (i didnt include muichiro for obvious reasons)
🥀Cw: smut, dirty talk, praise, degradation, breeding kink (rengoku + sanemi), squirting (mitsuri)
🥀minors dni
🥀Pairing(s): Hashiras(minus muichiro) x reader (seperate)
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Giyuu:
when you first suggested the idea of NNN to giyuu, he was kinda confused
why would you participate in a competition not to have sex? did you just not want to have sex with him?
after some gentle reassurance and explanation however, he agrees surprisingly quickly
not only is giyuu ridiculously patient, he also has incredible self restraint
he would make it to the end of the month, but i definitely think he would have "almost" moments
when the month is over, hes begging you to fuck him
claims that hes waited so long, why should he have to do any work?
the minute it's december first hes waking you up, mewling and grinding on your thigh half-delirious as hes whining in your ear, begging you to take control
teasing him throughout the month will only make him more determined to last longer, if only to inflict the same suffering onto you
giyuu is very, very sensitive and you can use that to your advantage in a variety of ways
he gets really blushy when you tease him, and its only amplified during NNN considering he can't even get himself off
he also has a tough time ignoring it when he gets horny, he just feels like the type to be soooo sensitive and it's torture when he can't even jack off to relieve the painful ache in his pants
Giyuu pinned you down, his chest flush with your back as his cock rubbed against your hole. He was a panting mess, shaking above you as he pushed inside slowly. One of his hands tangled itself in your hair, forcing you to look over your shoulder as he began to thrust into you steadily. Soft moans and whimpers filled the room, accompanied by the sound of skin slapping again skin. You could feel your orgasm building as a coil tightened in your stomach, and Giyuu let out a soft groan, signaling he was close as well. You clenched around him tightly, your release ripping through you as you clawed at the sheets. Above you, Giyuu tossed his head back and whispered your name like a prayer before cumming as well, filling your hole with his dripping seed. "Giyuu- ungh- wha-" you gasped, drool spilling from your lips as he sped up the pace. You had no time to catch your breath, and your hips jerked from overstimulation. "baby, i've waited a month, please?" Giyuu whispered in your ear, eyes blown wide with lust. You knew that you probably weren't going to be getting up anytime soon.
Tengen:
im sorry but he is not making the month
he'd last two weeks at best
you and his wives would probably all team up against him, and this man is unable to restrain himself when it comes to you
quickest way to get tengen to fold? lingerie
just the sight of you in some flashy, lacy undergarments has him practically dragging you to bed
teasing him while wearing lingerie? hes gone.
"fuck the stupid month," he'd grumble, throwing you over his shoulder and slapping your ass for good measure
tengen would be rougher than usual, hes pissed at you for teasing him after all
"hey!" you gasped, squirming in Tengens grip as he practically dragged you inside of the house. You and the other wives had been been training outside when all of a sudden Tengen had snatched you up, throwing you over his shoulder as the other wives followed behind you. Your husband ignored your indignated cries as he brought you to the bedroom and tossed you unceremoniously onto the mattress. Maki, Suma, and Hinatsuru joined you on the mattress, and you turned to look over your shoulder at Tengen. "giving up already?" you giggle, crawling over to the other wives at the head of the bed. Tengen Tengen smirked and slid up to you, pulling your undergarments off in seconds as your head rested in Hinatsuru's lap. Maki and Suma began to grind against eachother to your left as Tengen's breath fanned over your bare skin and thighs while Hinatsuru ran her fingers through your hair. The five of you were in for a long, long night~
Shinobu:
Shinobu is definitely making it, no questions asked
she's patient enough to wait the month, however she will be pissed when you deny her
would totally try to get back at you, Shinobu would wear lingerie under her uniform and flash you when nobody was looking
she would run her hands up and down your thighs during hashira meetings, fingers ghosting so close to where you want her but not quite
she would enter a room and sit on your lap, kissing you senseless until your grinding up against her and then walk away like nothing happened
she's teasing YOU
i don't think theres any way to get her to give in, but at 12:01 on December 1st your waking up to her head between your legs
she would make you work for every orgasm, edging you until your sobbing
"you made me wait for so long, shouldn't i make you wait a little too?"
Shinobu smirked, gently swiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks. She placed a finger on your tongue so you could taste the salty drops, and you let out another needy sob. "Are you getting desperate already, little butterfly?" She cooed, thrusting her fingers deeper inside of you. Another mewl escaped your lips as she fucked you dumb on her fingers, stretching you open and prodding the place inside you that made you see stars. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening, and you whimpered. "Pl-please Nobu, 'm gonna cum, please lemme cum-mgh-" Shinobu smirked at you, smacking your core lightly as you squirmed beneath her. She leaned down to whisper in your ear, caressing your sides slowly. "Shh, c'mon doll, I know you can take it. You made me wait a month to ruin you, didn't you? You can handle waiting a little longer to come~" Your body quaked at her words, soft sobs and pleads filling the air as you begged her to let you cum this time. Shinobu only shook her head, smirking and removing her hand as your orgasm begins to fade.
i went off there for a sec omg
Rengoku:
i think he would make it without too much trouble
i really don't think his sex drive is super high, and hes pretty patient as it is
so yea i def think he'd make it
unleeeesssss you teased him
listen, Rengoku LOOOOVES to please you
if you bat your lashes and play your cards right, he'll fold you in half and fuck you senseless less than a week into november
it would be the roughest, sloppiest sex yall ever have bc once Rengoku is done, hes done
He'll fuck you every day of the damn month just because he wants to, and be prepared bc this man has STAMINA
normally rengoku focuses solely on your pleasure, hes def the service dom type, hoowwweeeeverr, depending on how much you teased him, hes gonna be sm rougher
i also think rengoku would last the entire month just to irritate you because, lets face it, hes much more patient than you
just imagine begging him to fuck you at the end of the month, pleading with him to pay attention to you after he's deprived you of pleasure for so long... how could he say no to you?
the sound of skin slapping against skin and muffled groans filled the room as Rengoku pressed you down into the mattress. Rengoku leaned down, close enough to whisper in your ear, "fuck baby, can i- can i lift your legs up higher?" you nod, head foggy as he tossed your legs over his shoulder. Rengoku adjusted for a second, folding you over and beginning to thrust slowly. Your hips rocked against his as you clawed at the mattress, the new position allowing him to go so much deeper than before. "mhm baby, just like that. gonna make you feel so good after you waited so long, gonna fill you up so nice.."
Mitsuri:
i think Mitsuri would last ab a week before crumbling
She'd be so embarrassed about it, all blushy and shy
you haaave to tease her ab quitting so early, you'll get the most delectable whimpers from her<3
Mitsuri folds from MINIMAL teasing its almost like she wants to lose
once she gives in tho, please pamper her. teasing is okay but PRAISE HER‼️
shes a pillow princess at heart and will def want u to take care of her after u made her wait for sooo long
MITSURI IS SO SENSITIVE, AND ITS DEFINITELY AMPLIFIED AFTER SHE HELD BACK FOR SO LONG
she cries sm more easily during sex after being teased for so long, and it's impossible to NOT overstimulate her (she loves it)
tease her and praise her, overstimulate her and watch as she falls apart~
fat tears streamed down Mitsuri's pink cheeks as you pumped your fingers in and out of her slick heat, mesmerized by the sloppy sound it made. her legs trembled and her lip quivered as she sobbed from the overwhelming onslaught of pleasure, and you leaned up to kiss her on the cheek. "d'worry baby, im gonna make you feel all better," you coo, smiling as she whimpers. your fingers are coated in her slick, and her hips grind down onto your fingers with every thrust. "need you.." she whispers, reaching out to pull you closer. "kiss..?" she whimpers, large, teary eyes staring into yours. You chuckle, unable to deny her. "Of course~ how could i forget?" you kiss her slowly and sensually, running your tongue along her bottom lip and gently grabbing her jaw as you pushed your tongue inside her mouth. Mitsuri whined at the feeling, clenching ariund your fingers as her tongue collided against yours. her chest heaved, perky breasts bobbing as the coil in her stomach tightened. you could tell she was close, and moved the hand holding her face to massage one of her breasts as you deepened the kiss. your fingers curled inside her, pressing against her g spot as your thumb circled her clit. instantly, Mitsuri squealed, gushing around you and squirting onto your hand as she writhed in pleasure. "t-too much!!" she gasped, pulling away from the kiss as a thin trail of spit lingered between your mouths. "was that worth the wait baby?" Mitsuri blushes, nodding profusely.
Obanai:
i genuinely think obanai would last like
a week at most
im sorry but this man worships your every move, and theres NO way he can deny you anything
you tease him once and hes already bending you over, fucking you senseless as he bites harshly into your neck
or hes whining, dragging you on top of him and begging you to fuck him just right, ride him until hes a sweaty, needy mess
sex with Obanai after NNN would definitely be much rougher, he just cant hold himself back
he NEEDS to ravish you
you gasp as Obanai's cock sinks into you, his thick length filling you up as he spreads your legs. one hand rests on your inner thigh, the other entwining your hands together as he presses hasty kisses to your collarbone. your back arches off of the bed as he bites down hard on the sensitive skin, a dark hickey left in its wake. Obanai travels upwards, his teeth grazing your neck and shoulders as he kisses and nips at the exposed skin. his warm breathe flushes against your beck as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by your moans and whines. Obanai pants, his hand moving from your thigh to fondle at your chest. "can't believe you made me wait this long, bunny.." he murmured softly in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. "fuck, i missed this pretty hole..."
Sanemi:
he likes to think could make it the whole month but "doesn't care about a stupid ass challenge"
he cant make it the whole month hes too whipped for you
i think he would either last like. 15 minutes or two weeks theres no in between
Sanemi would either fuck you out of spite immediately after november starts or genuinely try but give up pretty early on and make up some bs excuse ab how he "doesnt even care"
either way, hes not making it 💀
prepare yourself, cuz the sex is gonna be ROUGH
Sanemi totally has a breeding kink, and the thought of NNN definitely ignites a feral need to fill you up- not a drop of his cum is wasted, hes bringing you to at LEAST 4 orgasms, and hes coming at least twice as well. hes also gonna finger fuck his cum back inside you, maybe he'll use a plug too just for the satisfaction of knowing that your filled up to the brim with him...
congrats!! u have a feral boyfriend
"s' too much!" you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as Sanemi fucked into you harshly from behind. his hips snapped against yours as you whimpered, face down in the sheets. Sanemi gave a swift slap to your ass and you sobbed, mewling as he fucked into your weeping hole even harder. "oh yea? shoulda thought of that before tellin' me about this stupid challenge," Sanemi hissed, thrusting deeper into your cervix as you keened. "im- m' close-" you hiccuped, warm, wet tears slid down your face as he looked into your glossy eyes. "oh yea? i thought it was t' much, doll- fuck-" he gasped as you tightened around him, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass was amplified even more as you came with a squeal. you came hard, coating Sanemi's cock and the bed below in your juices as your eyes rolled back into your head. "fuuugnck- doll your so tight- im coming too, don't waste a fucking drop of this- its what you get for makin' me wait.."
Gyomei:
i think Gyomei would make it
honestly i dont think he has a super high sex drive, and as much as he wants to please you, i think he would make it through the month with ease
hell at the end of the month hes praising YOU for lasting so long eithout him (in a genuine way, not in a condescending way ofc <33)
hes pretty chill when it comes to sex, but after NNN Gyomei might be a little rougher
he has STAMINA tho
prepare to be overstimulated bc he is MAKING SURE you are blissed outt af by the end
if your not a whiny mess in subspace then Gyomei's not having it
hes praising you for lasting so long, making you feel so good while bringing you to climax after climax for HOURS
he miiiiight fold if u bEG him but its a small possibility.
Gyomei held you in his lap as you squirmed, fucking yourself on his cock as you buried your face into his neck. "mnghh- forget how big you were.." you whine, grinding your hips sensually against his. Gyomei chuckles, brushing the hair off of your forehead and kissing you gently. "do you remember how many times you've come, little one?" your brow furrowed, your head felt foggy as you tried to remember. one of his hands squeezed your thigh reassuringly, and you whimpered, eyes rolling back slightly as you tightened around his cock. Gyomei hummed, taking in your overstimulated state as he brought you closer to release. "im so proud of you little light, you lasted the entire month," he cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your back as the coil in your stomach tightened. "let me reward you, my precious dove~"
RAHAHAHAHAHAHA ITS DONE ITS DONE ITS FINALLY DONE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HOLY FUCK HOLY SHIT ITS DONE KTS DONE ITS DONE I LOVE LIFE HALLELUJAH AJSHSAJHAJAAAJAA ITS JANUARYYYYY LMFAO
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goatgoesmbe · 4 months ago
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tw : sexual theme, stalking, 141 being a creep
A series : part 2 of Discord shenanigans
AO3
Word count: 2031
rated: E
Poly!141 x f!reader
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The New Member
The server wasn’t meant for public in the first place.
It was just something quick Johnny made just to have a little corner to hang out when they were on leave.
They rarely used it at first, finding no reason to communicate outside of work, they were busy with their own life anyway.
That was, until Johnny started sending pictures of literally anything in his daily life. It started with scenery, dogs he saw during walks, and selfies. Soon enough, Simon joined in with his own blurry pictures, then Kyle’s award-worthy photography, and John who sent the most normal pictures of some nice views worth sharing.
Eventually, interacting through the server became so regular that they started using it when they got back on base too– They never talk about something confidential in it of course, they were still professionals after all.
The gaming session was Kyle’s idea (Well, actually it was Johnny but he couldn’t convince them to play among us), they started playing various FPS games before settling for the popular one.
Kyle played casually, Johnny played competitively (and sucked at it compared to the others), John played it rarely but was pretty decent at it, while Simon was effortlessly good at it (Which he was so smug about).
The members consisted of people they knew from their jobs, so imagine their surprise when there was a notification about a new member.
You.
They welcomed you in a friendly manner, showing no suspicion despite John telling Kyle to do a background check immediately. And oh do they like what they see.
Pretty thing that you are, messy hair, pouty lips, dark bags under your eyes that only made you look more adorable rather than off-putting, like a sleepy panda. You always wore comfortable clothes oversized shirts or hoodies on colder days while your legs were bare, sitting crosslegged in your gaming chair with a big plushie in your lap. Johnny wondered if you wore anything underneath which made them go silent. made them think.
Fuck.
It was illegal and immoral, but really– everything they had ever done was all of those things and more, so what’s a bit of hacking into the webcam of a bonnie thing like you? It was done for their own safety after all, keeping their secrets as members of a highly classified military task force. It was only normal for them to check for any individuals that got into their space. Just in case.
Sure, they could just drop it when they found out that you were just a harmless civilian, but they also learned that you were just a sweet thing.. they immediately took a liking to you, adored you, so of course they had to keep an eye on you because they wanted to make sure you were alright. Keeping a civilians safe was part of their job, right?
You live alone, which made sense as to why you have CCTVs around your place. Smart girl, looking after your security seriously. Adorable.
Was it creepy for them to have access to those CCTVs? They just cared about your safety is all, was it wrong?
Well, they didn’t really care if it was, they were in too deep already, addicted to watching you in your own world, from your pretty face looking adorable as you focused on the game you were playing, the chime of your giggle when Johnny sent something stupid, to the way those innocent eyes showed no suspicion when one of them slipped up.
“Not as bonnie as you ;)” Johnny sent one time.
“You don’t even know what i look like XD”
Fortunately, you were oblivious. But still, they need to be more careful in the future. Johnny had a limp the next day and his body was covered in marks that peeked from the t-shirt he wore. But from how he barely covered them and how he still had that smirk on his face, it looked like he would definitely do it again if it would have John sending Simon to punish him.
Watching you had become a group routine. When they weren’t in the same room, they just hopped on the hidden channel Johnny made just to ping each other whenever you were doing something that would pique their interest.
Kyle enjoyed watching you go about with your routine, waking up at noon, cooking up something simple for yourself before you lock into your PC to do your freelance job then hopped into video games. His favorite was when you did your skincare, hand went down to cup the bulge in his pants as he watched you putting on lotion all over your body. His eyes darkened at the thought of him doing it instead, sliding his hand up your legs, lathering them nicely, and perhaps sneaking an opportunity for a feel of your clothed pussy when he reached your inner thighs.
Johnny likes to watch your reaction whenever you two interact, relishing your flustered expression from his relentless flirting. He wondered if you would also be shy under him, squirming as you tried to hide your face while he took off your clothes. He would click his tongue as he pried your hands off your face and gripped both of your wrists in one hand before pinning them above your head, one knee lodged between your legs to prevent you from closing them.
John’s favorite part of your day was when you were working. Tongue peeking out slightly in concentration, your doe eyes shifted and looked sharper when you were focused. He was there when you were in an online meeting with your employer, even though noone noticed. As he watched you talk, he liked to imagine that you were working for him instead. Talking formally unlike how you usually were when you were talking to them, he imagined you calling him sir like how you called your current boss. The bastard that made you uncomfortable with the way he leered at you, making innuendos while you tried your best to keep the conversation professional. You poor thing, don’t worry, John will teach him a lesson or two about respecting you. And yes, he was a hypocrite since he was lazily pumping his shaft under the desk as he watched you doing your job.
Simon rarely said anything about it, but out of everyone in the server, he was a constant presence with how the view count never went below one. He wasn’t picky, he liked watching you doing anything, even when you were just sleeping, he’d fuck his fist messily at the view of you being so vulnerable and oblivious before shooting his cum all over the screen with your face displayed on it. He was the one who would ping the others to notify them when you were doing something he knew they would be interested in.
Like right now.
It had been a long week, you barely had time to do your hobby. Projects after project that got you awake until two am before a quick wink of rest until you had to wake up again at five. When you were looking forward to doing something fun but then finding yourself too tired to even play your favorite game. And then you’d feel bad for neglecting your hobby as you continued to be enslaved under capitalism.
You were tired, sleep-deprived, stressed, and pent-up. At times like this, you were glad that you worked from home. You couldn’t imagine yourself not snapping at people if you work in an office with coworkers. Couldn’t even find the energy to open the server these past few days since you didn’t want to interact with anyone.
So naturally, they would miss you. Naturally, they were very excited when Simon pinged all of them in the hidden channel.
The light in your room was dimmed, but they could see your figure just fine. Panting on the bed on your back, legs spread wide with your hand between them while your other hand was clutching a pillow which you use to hide your face. 
John growled, fingers twitching as he thought of taking it off you so he could see what kind of expression you were making. Instead, he gripped Kyle’s dick as the younger man rolled his hips with the Captain bottoming out in his ass as they were both settled on the couch.
Johnny pulled away from Simon’s cock with a lewd pop. “She could fit mair than that..” he panted before Simon shoved his dick back in the scot’s mouth, gloved hand gripping at his mohawk.
His words got them zeroed in on your cunt which was stuffed with your fingers deep to your knuckles. Wet squelching noises combined with your needy whines echoed around the rec room from the cheap speakers as the stream was displayed on the wall from the projector. Johnny was right, you could take more than that. And from the way you desperately bucked your hips as you moved your fingers that fast, they could tell that you wanted to take more either.
“Does she not have a fucking toy?” Kyle groaned as he jacked off with the same tempo as your fingers as he continued to move in John’s lap.
“No” Simon responded curtly. He would know, he was the one who always kept an eye on you more than anyone else after all.
He knew you didn’t have a partner and never brought anyone home. You rarely go out and when you do, you’ll be back soon enough. A quick trip to the grocery stores or some shops, as shown by the trackers he put in your phone. Low possibility of you seeking out to anyone. Perhaps it was odd for some people but he wasn’t complaining, because he was only willing to share you with the men he trusted his life with.
You rarely pleasure yourself either, which made a moment like this more special. At first, he expected you to whimper out someone’s name, a crush they didn’t know about perhaps. Fortunately, that never happened. You seem content with yourself like this, eyes closed as you focus on the way you curl your fingers and grind your palm against your clit.
But they could tell you wanted more. They agreed that you deserved more. They could give you more.
Your whole body tensed, a shudder rippled through your body as heat built in waves. Breath hitching as you gasped, soft at first before breaking into a moan, raw and unrestrained. Fingers clutching at your pillow, muscles tightening as pleasure peaked, your back arching instinctively.
A flush spread across your skin, a sheen of sweat caught the light. Eyes fluttered to a close, lips parted, as a final tremor coursed through your body before you melted into the afterglow, breathless and trembling.
Yet, your cunt still clenched around your fingers as you pulled them out, like it didn’t want to let them go, because you still wanted more. You whined, and they groaned at the expression on your face. Unsatisfied, but too tired to do anything about it.
After a moment of gathering your jumbled mind, you got up and headed to the bathroom for a shower. And while they knew it was impossible, they wished you had a camera there too.
As the men chased their own pleasures, they thought to themselves about how they could help. You were physically nowhere near them at the moment, and they didn’t want to scare you by being too upfront in the server. Didn’t want you to know what they had been doing behind your back.
The next day, an onslaught of sex toy ads kept popping up when you turned on your PC. It obviously pissed you off at first (especially with how one appeared when you share your screen during a work meeting), but eventually it made you consider getting one. And if you got a transfer to your bank account in the same amount you spent on it right after, if you received four dildos instead of one, they totally had nothing to do with it. Nope, they totally didn’t send you the exact copies of their cocks.
Next (soon)
A/N: I remember someone saying 'How are you gonna get a guy if you never leave your house' and this is my answer to that also, this series was supposed to be fun silly online friends story, so idk what happened here, I swear the story wrote itself I had nothing to do with it
open taglist : @partiallysame, @niazrzl, @iiriam, @sweetlike-sugarplum, @mordacioust, @boogeysmoth, @little-mini-me-world, @sxnshinebxcky, @lady-red-night-1234, @theycallmevalen, @z-wantstowrite, @c-moon20-12, @glitteryarcadefart, @purple-snowfox, @shylahstarzz, @mestrecadumaverick, @thereofrin, @crappity-craps-crap, @rottensage, @sirbonesly, @shinebright2000, @kittygonap, @savas-q1, @just-pure-trash, @sheep-from-rad, @wolfbc97, @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly, @lucienofthelakes
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orimuraa · 1 month ago
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• I could be the rest of your life or whatever - 西村力 ↳ ┊: handlebars (feat. dua lipa) - jennie
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꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆nishimura riki was known as the school’s bad boy, but somehow, he managed to get his heart stolen by you—the school’s nerdy sunshine ⨾
۶ৎ bad boy!ni-ki x fem nerd!reader┆fluff┆cursing, petnames, one kiss┆wc 952
⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: thank you to the @nodoubtily for requesting this! i love the idea of explaining how they met and how their relationship bloomed ^^ i hope you enjoyed!!
part 1
꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱
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the first time you ever ran into ni-ki was in freshman year. you were all getting used to high school and the new environment. as usual, you were off in the library studying, not having anything better to do in your time.
that’s when he walked in. clad in a black sweatshirt and some grey, baggy jeans, he was so pretty. he gave off a serious “don’t talk to me or i’ll fuck you up” vibe, but you couldn’t help but watch as he navigated his way over to the studying tables where you sat.
you tried to focus on your work—you really tried—but he was too distracting! his pretty moles that scattered his gorgeous face, his duck like lips, and his dark and mysterious eyes that were focused on the paper below him.
you were about to introduce yourself when he stopped you.
“if you’re about to speak, i request that you don’t. i don’t have time for shit like this,” he said curtly, not even sparing a glance.
that made your lips seal with shock. this guy was nothing but a jerk yet for some reason, you wanted to know more about the mysterious pretty guy.
so you did. the next few months were spent with you running around the school to be with him, practically forcing him to be your friend.
at first, he cursed you out for following him, saying he didn’t need a new friend.
“god, piss off! i don’t need a fucking fan club,” he growled, but it didn’t faze you.
you continued to stay right by his side whether he wanted it or not, slowly learning new things about him.
you learned that he had two sisters and that he was actually from japan, making you swoon for him even more.
it wasn’t until one day (the only day in the whole year that you were absent), ni-ki realized that he actually enjoyed your company and relentless nagging.
he had no idea where you were and it worried him that you were in danger. he also missed the way you would appear when his classes finished (despite him never actually showing up to them) and the way you would chat his ear off about certain things.
he kinda just accepted it and let you stay by his side. you two would walk through the halls as you chatted about something that was going on in your life while greeting your fellow classmates. he admired your social ability and it definitely made his heart flutter seeing your adorable smile. you had done something to his heart and for the first time, ni-ki wasn’t scared of the feeling.
so when you showed up the next day, looking exhausted yet still so radiant, ni-ki tried not to make his panic visible.
“where were you?” he mumbled, wanting to stay nonchalant but also not being able to hide his concern.
“sorry…i was sick for the weekend,” you frowned at the tall boy, your voice still not fully recovered.
“don’t apologize. there’s nothing to apologize for. just…i’m glad you’re better,” he said shyly, the tips of his ears getting red.
“thanks,” you smile, choosing not to tease him.
you both walked in your usual way, you chatting his ear off despite your sore throat, but this time, ni-ki actually conversed back. he only chimed in small comments, but they were enough to keep the smile on your face.
you were shocked when you saw that ni-ki was the one waiting for you after class instead of you going to wait for him. he had your favorite drink in hand and the smallest smile on his plump lips, yet you still noticed.
“hi ki,” you smile softly, the nickname slipping out.
“ki? hmm, i like it,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair to which you scowl at. “maybe i’ll have to make a nickname for you..or can i just call you mine?” he smirks slyly, making your heart stop for a second.
“i- you’re crazy!” you shake your head, trying to avoid eye contact. you scurry ahead, trying to get out of the building for some fresh hair, ni-ki smirking with pride as he followed after you.
the breath of fresh air was amazing as you started to feel extremely hot confined in the building with ni-ki. as you stopped in your tracks, your heard ni-ki stop as well.
“better, princess?” he asked, that smug look still on his face. you blushed again, but you didn’t say anything.
“listen, i uhh…i’m not the best with words but i just wanted to say that i think i like you…no- i know i like you. i like everything about you and i didn’t realize i could feel this deeply about someone,” ni-ki says, his voice laced with hesitation and anxiousness.
“then my plan worked!” you laugh. “i’ve been waiting to get close to you all these weeks! i’m glad it worked then,” you smile at him.
“wait- that was your plan the whole time??” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you.
“well…i just wanted to get to know you better,” you say shyly, suddenly feeling embarrassed.
“then can i be your boyfriend?” ni-ki asks, a new found softness in his tone.
“yes, 100 times yes !!” you exclaim, going up on your tippy toes to throw your arms around his neck, hugging him close.
“thank you for giving me a chance baby,” he mumbles in your ear, pressing a soft kiss against your temple.
“well now you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life!” you giggle, nuzzling your face into his neck.
“and i would let you stay by my side forever if it meant you stayed right here, in my arms.”
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˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐉𝐢𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy, @hyukabean, @annybah, @ijustwannareadstuff20, @chaeneu, @17ericas, @firstclassjaylee, @riribelle, @right-person-wrong-time, @cheruphic, @woniefication, @melodiessvy, @soona-huh, @kiwicup, @yuuuraaa
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gf2bellamy · 4 months ago
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I just want to say that I love all of your fics! They are so sweet and cute and 🥰🥰🥰🥰
Can I please request reader meeting Penelope at like a pottery club or art class or cafe or something and the two of them hit it off and become really good friends and reader mentions that her boyfriend is coming to pick her up and just gushes about how sweet he is and how much she loves him. And then Spencer shows up and Penelope is like “oh my god!!!”
coffee — spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing i think a/n: absolutely loved this idea tysm for ur request ! <3
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You took the last sip of your coffee, laughing loudly at the story Penelope had just told you.
“I cannot believe you actually said that,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief, still grinning.
Penelope simply shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Someone had to say it,” she quipped, smirking as she took another sip of her now nearly empty cup.
You had met Penelope purely by accident—a mix-up at the coffee shop when the barista had mistakenly switched your orders. You could have just exchanged cups and gone on with your day, but somehow, the two of you ended up talking. And talking. One thing led to another, and suddenly, you were sitting together at the same table like old friends.
Now, as you noticed her cup was empty too, you felt reluctant to let the moment end.
“We should do this again,” you said, tilting your head at her.
Penelope’s eyes lit up instantly. “Yes. Yes. Most definitely yes,” she nodded enthusiastically, already reaching across the table for your phone before you could even offer it.
“I’m going out tonight with some friends from work,” she explained as she tapped her number into your contacts. “They’re wonderful people, and we’d have so much fun. You should totally come with.”
She handed your phone back, her enthusiasm contagious. You smiled, appreciating the offer, but you shook your head apologetically as you glanced at your screen.
“Can’t,” you said. “My boyfriend’s picking me up and we're grabbing dinner together.”
At that, Penelope’s brows arched with intrigue. “Boyfriend?” she echoed, her smirk returning.
You nodded, feeling warmth creep into your cheeks. “Yeah.”
Her grin widened as she leaned in slightly. “And? Tell me about this mystery man.”
You laughed softly at her curiosity, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well… he’s kind of the sweetest person I know,” you admitted, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Like, the kind of person who remembers all the little things—my favorite snacks, the way I take my coffee, even the books I say I want to read but never get around to.”
Penelope let out a dreamy sigh. “Okay, I love this already. Keep going.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “He’s ridiculously smart, but he doesn’t act like he knows everything. He’s just… thoughtful, in a way that sneaks up on you.” You glanced at your phone again, checking the time. “Like, this morning, he woke me up with pancakes. He burned the edges a little, but he still insisted on making them.”
Penelope gasped dramatically. “Okay, I’m officially obsessed with him. He sounds like a dream.”
You laughed, nodding. “He really is.”
Before Penelope could press for more details, your phone buzzed in your hand. You glanced down at the screen, your heart skipping a beat at the name flashing across it. “That’s him,” you said with a grin, slipping your phone into your pocket.
Penelope’s smirk grew as she crossed her arms. “Well, now I have to meet this perfect man of yours.”
You huffed a small laugh. “Yeah,” you admitted. “He should be outside right about now.” And with that, the two of you stood up, walking out of the coffee shop together.
There he was, Spencer, standing just outside with his back to you, hands casually tucked into his pockets. The sight of him sent a warm flutter through your chest.
“Spencer,” you called softly, excitement bubbling in your voice as you walked toward him, a wide smile spreading across your face.
He turned at the sound of your voice, his own smile instinctive. But then, just as quickly as it appeared, his expression faltered. His shoulders stiffened, his smile slipping away.
Your steps slowed. “What?” you asked, brow furrowing, your arms—once ready to wrap around him, now hanging uselessly at your sides.
His gaze wasn’t on you. It was locked onto Penelope.
The two of them stood there, staring at each other, and the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Spencer wore a shocked and worried expression, while Penelope’s face was a mask of smug satisfaction.
“Uh…” you said, glancing back and forth between them, trying to decipher the sudden tension. “Spencer, this is Penelope. I met her at the coffee shop today. And Penelope, this is Spencer, my boyfriend.” You lightly touched his arm, hoping to draw his attention back to you.
“Oh my god,” Penelope suddenly squealed, her eyes practically glowing with excitement. You turned to her, utterly bewildered.
“Spencer Reid,” she announced dramatically, planting her hands on her hips. “How dare you hide this from me?”
Spencer, whose face had somehow turned even redder, mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch.
Penelope, however, was having none of it. She spun toward you, pointing at him. “This?! This is your boyfriend?”
“…Yes?” you said slowly, the confusion growing.
She gasped, clutching her chest as if she had just heard the most scandalous news. “The Spencer Reid you’ve been gushing about? The one who makes you pancakes and remembers every single detail about you ?”
Your mouth opened slightly as realization dawned. “Wait. You know Spencer?”
“Oh, honey.” Penelope let out an exaggerated sigh. “Know him? I work with him. He is my Spencer.”
You blinked. “Your Spencer?”
Spencer finally let out a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Garcia…”
“Reid,” she shot back with a gleeful grin.
You took a step back, looking between them, still processing. “Wait, you’re Garcia?”
Penelope gasped again, looking mock-offended. “He didn’t tell you my name? I thought we were friends now!”
Spencer rubbed his temple. “I didn’t think—”
“You didn’t think?” she interrupted, feigning shock. “Did you not think I would love her?”
He sighed, defeated.
You, meanwhile, had fully shifted from confusion to amusement, the situation far funnier now that you understood. “In his defense, I only knew you as ‘Garcia.’”
“Well, that changes now!” Penelope declared, looping her arm through yours as if you had been best friends for years. “Come on, we have so much to talk about.”
Spencer sighed again, but there was a small, fond smile pulling at his lips as he watched you two. He was in deep trouble.
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running-with-kn1ves · 1 year ago
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Fitness Trainer
A/N: I blended some french terms of endearment with English don't come for me. But is Antoine really French, or is he feigning this way to get closer to you? (Had a fem idea for this too)
Synopsis: Another day at the gym, your personalized trainer is helping you out a lot more intimately than he would with most clients.
TW: Creep gym trainer, yandere themes, mentions of future stalking/imagined groping, sensual content
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And up... and down, just like that."
The squeeze on your hips kept you stable, even with your fingers shaking, mouth agape as hot breath was sucked in, and out. 
"One more, you can do one more for me."
"I can't..." you huffed, thighs quaking as the barbell on your shoulders made you ache. 
"Yes you can. C'mon sweetheart, we'll do it together."
He gripped the barbell beside where your sweating hands were, chest flush against your back as his feet entrapped the outside of your own. 
“Do it with me now,” He pulled the weight lower, forcing you to squat despite the agony in your ankles and tailbone. “Push through it, baby.”
The sweet name just slipped out, breathy against your ear as his hot exhales slowed compared to your huffs. It almost made you slip.
You could feel the muscles in your wrists shaking, vision going blurry as sweat drips into your eyes. One of his hands leaves the barbell to grip your hip, forcing you back into a standing position as your knees nearly give out. 
You rise slowly back up with the barbell in your hands, nearly groaning in pain at the strain. You finally lift your arms to your chest, finishing the rep with a strained frown as your personal trainer forces the weight off of your arms. His taller stature makes it easy to put the barbell back on the rack in front of you. 
You feel as if you could collapse, an hour and a half of intense training brought upon by your own determination leaving you exhausted and a little discouraged. You thought you could do more, push yourself harder-- but at the end of the day, the amount of reps your body would let you do, was it. You’d crack if you tried to go even further, end up tearing something or worse. 
Your trainer could tell; the way you sweat, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept that hard, strained look with each motion he made you do. 
“I hate to say it, but you’re done for today.” 
You look up at him from your place on the ground, water bottle hanging from your grip as you try to catch your breath. 
Antoine had only worked with you for a couple weeks now, what started as once a week now thrice, if you had the time after work of course. But somehow, he always enticed you to come back. 
His body, which should’ve been motivation, was more or less disheartening-- rippling muscles and bulging quads peeking beneath his tight ‘TRAINER’ black tee and athletic shorts as the perfect ensemble. 
He was so sweet, so encouraging and upsettingly positive. Always filling up your water bottle, saying how he’s always admiring the growth of muscle definition in your back, giving you light touches to show which area of your body that a machine might work out. He even offered post-exercise massages to make sure you didn’t get sore after each session, free of cost as a perk of joining the gym’s ‘premium membership’, an idea he sold you on. That, along with the complementary protein shakes made that were hi “specialty.”
You knew it was his job to hook you in, but who could say no to that sweet meathead’s face? Which is why you were here, on a late saturday afternoon, in this nearly empty gym with him that he convinced you to love. 
You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if he was the one persuading you, offering to use his time off to come in and help train you.
“Feelin’ sore?” Antoine bends down next to you, offering a small towel from his pocket. The twinge of accent in his speech makes him sound funny, dry lips parted as he looks you over. “You went harder than usual today.” 
“Yeah,” You let out after a gulp of water. “Definitely gonna feel this later tonight; ha, maybe I’ll actually take you up on one of those massages.” 
You point with your water bottle, grinning tiredly as Antoine’s eyes seem to shine. He licks his lips to hide a giddy grin. 
“Of course-- definitely, I’d be more than happy to. These hands can work magic you wouldn’t believe.”
Antoine shuffles behind you, pulling at your shoulders to make you sit up straight. 
“Wha- you mean right now? I’m all, sticky.” 
“Now’s the best time, your muscles are just coming down from the effort they’ve exerted. Best to prevent any aches and pains as soon as possible rather than waiting.” 
He begins gentle rubs against the base of your neck; vast, warm fingers grace your collar with a softness you hadn’t expected. Usually when people try to massage your shoulders they’re too harsh, too grippy; but Antoine was rhythmic, pushing into your back with his palms as he made his way down to your shoulder blades. 
“But considering you’ve pushed so hard, I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of days.” Antoine insisted.
“Awe, you want me outa here that badly?” You joked, laying your head forward as Antoine’s fingers made their way to the back of your neck, running pressed thumbs down from your hairline. “I see how it is, prefer your other clients over me.” 
It felt sort of weird, having him massage you so deeply on the gym floor out in the open. But the only person here in the middle of the afternoon was an older woman, paying more attention to her cellphone on the treadmill than anything you two were doing. 
Antoine shook your shoulders. 
“Don’t say that, now!” He leaned his head over next to yours from behind, getting so close your nose almost brushed against his cheek. “It’s not funny; I hope you don’t see me that way.”
“It’s just a joke,” You titter, running your handtowel down the front of your shirt.
“I never understand your jokes.” He sighs, hands moving down to your tailbone. He lifts the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, digging his hands against the soft flesh. 
“Woah, hey,” You turn to look at him, but his head is down, looking at his fingers. 
“I have to get to your hips, you can’t do so many squats without release. And at the rate you were going to day… well, you see what I mean.”
The bottom of your tanktop covers his knuckles as he pulls and kneads the skin of your lower back. 
“O-okay.. I guess..” 
He’s not usually so insistent, but he seems so genuine about it-- and, he’s the trainer, shouldn’t they know best? 
He begins with little strokes to your skin, almost caressing. You grow anxious until his thumbs push deep lines into your flesh. 
“Does that feel a little better, Mon cœur? Less pain?” He asks up close, staring at your heated and perspiring cheeks. 
You’re awed by how good it actually feels, the tension melting away with each push of his knuckles into your skin, and grip of his hands around your waist as each of his thumbs digs into your sides. 
“Yeah… feels a lot better..” 
“You can rest your head on my shoulder, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”
You do as he says, arching your back with your head against his shoulder. He had easier access into your back, working his hands up beneath your shirt to reach your mid abdomen.
The deeper Antoine kneaded, the farther he grew up your back, the more… audible, his groans became. Each dip was another breathy moan into your ear. It was fine at first, just the sounds of his work; and then, it became almost, uncomfortably sensual. 
“Just like that...” He mumbled, giving a deep hum.
With your neck so close, his nose dips against your jaw to sneak a sharp inhale of your scent. It was heightened from your hour of strenuous work, a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 
But you jumped forward before he could nuzzle as deep against you as he wished. 
“Uh! Thanks, I feel a lot better now. Really… got all the kinks out.” 
You clutch your towel, facing your trainer to prevent him from working his “magic fingers” again. 
“Of course. And that’s just a taste, a fully body massage would leave the workout you just completed to drain away, as if it was just a dream.” He wiggles his hands with a sheepish grin, one so simple and sincere your guard fell again.
Sure, guys at the gym could be creeps, but he was your trainer, eyes kind and a little foreignly clueless, who only wanted to see you thrive; he’d never try something with you, his client. 
“Yeah, maybe next time. But now, I need to shower and get this stink off of me.” You bring yourself to your feet, all wobbly and achy-galore. Even with Antoine’s work on your shoulders, you can feel your back beginning to seize up. It’s gonna be hard to bend down for a while. 
Offering a hand to Antoine still on the rubbery gym floor, he takes it with a slight ease. He doesn’t use the weight in his hand to get up, knowing he’d just drag you back down to the floor if he did. 
“Thanks again-- I mean, I know it’s your job but--” 
“Don’t thank me; it’s always a treat to have you here, my cherie. I’d train you for free, you know!” 
You laugh, flattered at the idea. If you were a bit more forward, you’d ask him for that little perk. Hey, paying for his service certainly wasn’t cheap!
Making your way to the bathroom, you thank your lucky stars the hard part’s over. Too bad you can’t look at Antoine’s pretty face anymore, though. 
Antoine on the other hand, follows your stumbling body with his eyes, watching as you disappear behind the water fountain and bathroom door. 
His eyes jut back and forth between the machines and front door for witnesses, seeing none before snatching up your forgotten towel. How’d you never notice they didn’t just give these things out? 
He’d brought the cute handkerchief from home, wanting to appear the most of a gentleman. And, in the hopes that you’d use it every and anywhere. 
Oh, he thrived off that scent, pushing the white damp cloth heavy against his nose. It smelled even more potent of you, moreso than the few inches away of sniffs he usually got. 
His tongue just barely brushed against it, writhing in ecstasy from how it still held the stickiness of your sweat. You didn’t know how intoxicating it was to him, watching each bead of sweat leave your neck, the dip of your back when he got the chance to help hold that barbell with you… it was almost maddening, how strictly he had to restrain himself from lapping at your hot skin and running his hands beneath your gymwear. 
 No, he had to save this for later. What would his manager think if he saw him acting so ferally? 
Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Such as, taking out the bathroom trash, a simple excuse to slide his manager for the opportunity to watch you shower. 
Who knew working here would have such great advantages in getting close to you. 
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somnoir · 6 months ago
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Gotham's newest Crime Lord - Part 1
Prompt: Dan kills the joker and unintentionally becomes a crime lord
Dan didn't mean to become a Crime Lord. It wasn't his fault that the Joker was fragile and easily killable with one punch to the head. He didn't know that the seemingly immortal clown was easily killed once the impact practically snapped his neck. So yes, Dan didn't mean for this shit to happen. Not when all he wanted to do was go to college, make sure Danny and Elle weren't attracting trouble back in Gotham academy.
It wasn't his fault that the crazy bastard thought it was a good idea to nab his siblings and try to use them for ransom. It's not his fault that his first instinct was to introduce his first to that pennywise knock-off. It'd not his fault that this city was haunted by vengeful ghosts that wanted to tear that motherfucker to shreds.
They were supposed to lay low after the mess with their parents and their name changes.
But nooooo!
They had to have an absolute hatred for clowns and now he's somehow made himself a crime lord. Why the fuck were the Joker's goons so fucking stupid?! They either tried to kill Dan for killing their boss or they tried to fall under him and make him their new leader. It was like a fucking cult in his eyes. Seriously, what the absolute fuck was going on with this shitty city?
It's not like he could call Jazz and say "Hi sis! I killed a crazy clown and I'm now the boss of his weird goons. I also might end up on the local vigilante's hitlist."
Yeah, no. He's not doing that.
But this might not be so bad... Not really. Being their boss could be treated as a source of income if he utilized the Joker's shit properly. I mean, he couldn't always rely on the fruitloops money, not when Vlad could turn traitor and use the money against them. He needed to find a way to support his siblings, one way or another.
And Clockwork did say to get a hobby. If not mass genocide then he could resort to carefully planned crime. Yes. This could work. He'll make it fucking work for the sake of his siblings.
Besides, if he was a crime lord—in motherfucking Gotham—he doubts that the GIW will even try to fuck around in a city where a ghost controlled some part of the criminal underworld.
Oh... Oh, he was gonna fucking do this.
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(Clockwork watched as his most troublesome child shifts from world ender to crime lord. At least it was an upgrade from mass genocide.)
Nightwing didn't particularly know what to make of this mess. There were rumors of a new crime lord, of a new rogue.
One day, Joker's body was dropped into the harbor and found by the workers, all confused and scared as to why the Clown Prince of crime was dead in the water. It was humiliating in the Joker's standards, to be discarded like trash into the sea rather than have his body displayed for everyone to gawk at. The clown would have adored being glorified but whoever the hell killed him knew this and fucked the guy up bad.
His head snapped and his corpse tossed out like leftovers.
Jason had laughed, outright celebrated and Crime Alley was as festive as it ever was with the Red Hood blasting music through the streets and partying like there was no tomorrow. All of Gotham was celebrating, parading through the streets with pinatas that looked like the Joker. Harley would drop down from whatever roof she was on and swing her bat at the pinata, spilling red candy as everyone cheered and laughed. It was morbidly glorious.
But the festivities didn't erase the fact that someone had killed the Joker and knew what to do to disrespect him in the worst ways possible. It wasn't long until Joker's old lackeys were rallying to someone—a new boss. It wasn't odd for goons without bosses to move on to find different jobs, but for all of Joker's old minions to work for the same person? This was definitely the guy who killed the Joker.
No name, no appearance, nothing. Just quiet activity with organising his new goons to do strange errands. Stuff that didn't point them in the direction of criminal activity.
"You got anything?" Dick murmurs as Tim slouches over the batcomputer, watching as his younger brother sneered at the screen.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." He snaps, "All footage of this new rogue is immediately corrupted."
Babs hums, "And it's not like it's altered after it's been taken. The distortion happens live. They either have some tech on them or they're a meta who can avoid cameras." She adds, taking a leisure sip of the tea Alfred kindly offered them. "Whoever this is doesn't leave a trace aside from this shitty footage."
Tim groans, "I officially hate this guy!" He almost tosses his mug out of anger, shaking his head.
"Does Jason have any info on this one?"
And like the fucking menace he was, Jason pops up without another word. "He goes by Wraith." No one was startled, just sparing him a glance before nodding.
"That's it?"
"The goonions adore him." Jason shrugs, "Guy's been quick. Dealing with shit like Black Mask and other trafficking operations. Some of the kids he's saved wear clothes that have this specific symbol on them. It's a good tactic mind you. Tells people to fuck off and don't come anywhere near the kid or else he'll sic whatever bullshit he has in someone."
Dick narrowed his eyes, "Is it effective?"
"Hell yeah! One of the kids got kidnapped just last week. I went to save the poor thing but he walked out of that warehouse while the kidnappers were bleeding and sobbing." Jason once again grins, "Little Tommy threatened me if I try to arrest Wraith."
"So more anti-heri than villain. Good enough, at least." Dick sighed, shaking his head as he narrowed his eyes on the screen. More distorted footage.
"Thanks for the info, little wing."
"Just updatin' you guys. Heard some rumors that Harley's on the hunt for Wraith to thank him."
Great...
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It's been a solid two months since the death of the Joker. Batman and the rest of his birds were increasingly wary of the Wraith and his two new associates that went by Phantom and Specter. No footage on the three could ever be recovered, making them all assume this was the work of a meta.
Most of them weren't sure if this guy was a threat or not. Red Hood, on the other hand, had a fairly positive opinion on the guy who's been hanging traffickers by their legs and immediately staking their claim on the kid to keep them safe.
The new crime lord was slowly dismantling the criminal underworld and building it back up to their design.
"FUCKING HELL!" Dick glared at the screen again, "That's Wraith's doing, isn't it? No way did the Riddler blow up that building."
"Wraith's only been dealing with traffickers so far. Why would he do this?" Steph murmurs, staring at the recording of a building that had suddenly went off. Numerous were dead, some barely survived.
"That's the motherfucker's symbol." Dick pointed to the glowing green symbol that looked liked a fire with some obscure letter they couldn't really make out. (Was it a D or a P?)
"Okay... Why would Wraith blow up a building and kill everyone?" Jason immediately asked, seeming to be defensive of the man. "He doesn't just kill people, Dick."
"Even so..." Bruce grunts, clearly displeased with the bloodshed. All that death...
"We're going after him." Bruce announced, "I'm not putting of the Wraith investigation anymore."
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Dan stared at the pictures of the bodies, pudding out smoke without a cigarette in sight. His new minions—they preferred the term goons—were clearly apprehensive and continued to observe their new boss's expressions. This explosion had been his first act of pure and utter violence, a massacre of sorts.
He glances at Danny who melted out of the shadows, startling his goons.
"Can't say I'm not upset but I get why you did that shit." He begrudgingly admits, sitting across Dan. Phantom was a reluctant associate to his new organization of crime—ish.
"They weren't just trafficking kids, squirt. Pimping them, killing them and selling their organs, hosting matches and making meta kids fight to the fucking death." Dan clicked his tongue, "No redemption in that, Phantom."
"I get it, alright!" Danny snapped, "But the you've gotten the direct attention of the Bats now. They're gonna come for us, Wraith."
"Boss?" One of the goons—Dan remembers him as Jeremy Nelson. One guy just trying to support himself and his kid, trying to keep his sweet little daughter in school with as much money as he could get. Dan remembers giving the man a raise and a jacket with their family's symbol stitched into it—one for little Marigold.
"I'll deal with it. For now, you guys spread the word on that shit. I don't want anyone thinking I killed a bunch of kids." Dan growled, "My reputation can burn for all care, but like hell am I letting people think I hurt kids."
With Jeremy leading the other goons, he nodded and hurried out of the office to spread a word. The former Joker goons had taken a liking to their new boss, preferring his ways rather than their dead one.
"Jazz won't like this, y'know." Danny sighs, "I'm not gonna tell her. Never. But she'll find out, one way or another."
Dan frowns, "You think I don't know? It's Jazz, Danny."
"Yeah, yeah. I just didn't expect you to be like this. Crime Lord and everything."
Dan snorts, "I was the world ender, brat. This is mild compared to what I've done."
"Yeah, sure."
He shook his head, "You've got your own problems, brat. The Observants are still fussin' about you being king, your majesty."
An identical scowl looks back at Dan, and he's reminded that this kid is him. An alternate version of himself and yet they were brothers now. "I know. You killing the Joker fucked some stuff up. Apparently, the motherfucker was cursed to hell."
"Meaning?"
"He's got a lifetime of people in his shadow. Vengefu souls that want him dead." Danny huffs, "Had to deal with the paperwork cause everyone's wantin' a taste of him. I'm workin' on letting Walker release him so his victims can execute his soul."
"Cruel, little king."
"I'll give you his file. Bastard deserves to have his soul destroyed." Danny viciously grins. And once again, best reminded that this twerp is him. They were one and the same, different as well.
"Alright, alright. Fuck off now. We've still got some bats and birds to deal with." Dan immediately showed him away, noting Danny's eye roll.
"Better prepare a birdcage then."
Part 2 | Masterlist
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gurugirl · 1 year ago
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Sex Tutor
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Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2
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