#And now she's facing the consequences of her own fucking actions

[0last-ditch-effort0]

I know I'm supposed to be good and gracious and kind but yaknow what? Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish ableists would develop disabilities-chronic fatigue and pain and migraines and the rest of it- and I wanna give em a lick of what they gave me. How does it feel, to be told your best isn't good enough? That you're not trying hard enough? You can break your back and it'll never be enough to please me. Get a taste of your own fucking medicine

[sweetnans]

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K.

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

Trope: Enemies/friends to lovers.

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

Pt.2 Pt.3 ♡

m.list

Blame it on the ovulation process. You couldn't believe that you ended up making out (drunkly) and fucking the one and only Bakugo Katsuki.

Bakugo was a total pain in the ass back in UA high school, and after the big battle, when the doctor told him to cooperate after his heart injury and surgery, he changed for better. Well... better is a word to describe it.

He had the looks, he had the attitude, and now, in College UA, he found a way to get the chicks at his feet. Who knew he would be good at flirting and getting the female attention, putting aside his obnoxious and loud behavior?

In the other part, you knew better, but damn, now you felt bad, betrayed by your own hormones, doing the walk of shame to your room.

Bakugo Katsuki was a fucking legend in college, the major fuckboy, hoping from chick to chick and jeez that broke all your standards about boys, how did you even end up in his room?

Oh, that was a good question that you could answer. Fucking cosmopolitans made by Denki and Jirou, they wrecked all your senses and because the planets were aligned you ended ip tearing up all his clothes along with him grabbing every part of your body while eating your mouth. He was a good kisser though.

You slid your keys on the lock of your room door. Jirou was there in her bed, laying with Denki who was sound asleep.

"Girl," she sat in seconds at the sight of you, patting Denki's arm to wake him up.

"Don't," you told her, completely defeated. "I just wanna cry"

You couldn't stop the tears streaming down your face.

For you, giving Bakugo your body and an intimate moment wasn't something to be happy for. He wasn't in your to-do list compared to other girls that you knew were dying for a peak of him.

You believed in love, in the vulnerability that it brought alongside the happiness and the sappiness. You wanted to be loved and not be used. For you, Bakugo wasn't a trophy, he was a mistake.

"Just let it go." Jirou hugged you tightly. "Did he do something to you?"

"No, no," you cried in her shoulder, feeling her arms around your body and Denki cli ging in your back. "He was a complete gentleman,"

You hated yourself for reacting like that. The man gave you all of his stamina pounding himself into you, and he was almost romantic about it. You were a fool, not like you were catching feeling upon the act, not at all. You just didn't want to be one more of his long ass list.

You had a single rule. Don't sleep with people you don't have feelings for. You knew that for some people, it was easy not to get attached but for you, even if you didn't feel anything like sentimental after the act you ended up craving the affection and the tenderness that came up with a relationship.

You've slept with boyfriends in the past and you did good with friends with benefits because at least there was a friendship to cling on, in this case, you only knew Bakugo by name and because Denki, your bestfriend's and roommate's boyfriend hangout occasionally with his group.

"I'll avoid him," you told your friends. "And everything's going to be fine"

You dried your tears and excused yourself, gathering your belongings to go and take a shower. You could still feel his scent in your skin.

Walking to the common woman bathroom, you tried to block the memories in your mind, and it worked until you opened the door.

"Hey," the pink girl greeted while putting on make-up in front of the mirror. "Oh my god, I know you, you are the girl from the party last night, right?"

Mina Ashido, one of Bakugo closest friend.

"Yeah," you tried to smile, but you failed. God wasn't on your side today.

"Are you okay?" She asked worried.

What could have given you away? Oh, your swollen and red eyes for sure.

"Yeah, I'm just hungover." You tried to laugh her worry away, and when Jirou asked about the encounter, you told her that you wanted to believe that it worked. But you never fooled anyone.

"Me too" she said giggling.

Thank god she didn't push it.

"I'm going to shower, so see you later...?" You said, and it sounded like a plan, but you just wanted to be nice with her.

"Oh, before you go, do you have any tampons? My period just came early this month. I think it's a reaction after drinking a huge amount last night"

Hormones, you knew about that.

Shit, period? Did he wear any condoms? I mean, you had your anti-babies method and all, but what about STD?

"Hello? Calling from earth, " Mina waved his hand in front of your face and you regained consciousness.

"Shit, yeah, sorry, here." You led her your last tampon from your bag.

"Thank you so much," Mina said, grabbing all her things into her purse. "I will see you around"

That encounter only made things worse. Albeit you wanted to avoid the bastard you needed to find him to have the most embarrassing talk of all.

You knew Bakugo's sexual life like the palm of your hand. The rumors on campus spread like the Black Death in medieval Europe. You prayed that your name wouldn't appear on those rumors.

It was easy finding him among his friends, the red-headed enormous cinnamon roll, the tall one with the tape quirk, and, of course, Mina.

You approached slowly and tensed. The first one on seeing you was Mina, who was happy to see you again after you gave her your last tampon. She waved his hand in your direction, and you smiled at her, trying to dissipate your nerves.

The time has come.

"Hey, uhm, I need to talk to you." You twisted your hands nervously after patting his shoulder to gain his attention. He turned around, and when caught that it was you in front of him, he just glared at you from above, the sun at his back making you squint your eyes a little. "In private," you said to complete your previous sentence.

He wasn't even giving you the time of the day before he was almost laughing at your face.

"Sorry, princess, I don't do rebounds." he solidly huffed at you with a side smile and all.

Mina was the first one to scold him while his friends just whined at his behavior.

That damn motherfucker son of a bitch bastard.

Your face passed from being the normal shade of your foundation and skin to a different shade of red. How could he be such a cunt about it?

But you had your mouth, too.

"Oh no, don't worry, I haven't seen a dick as small as yours, and you think I want to repeat that shit show? Oh, please. I just wanted to check if you have any STD I have to be aware of"

You lied about his dick at least. The only truth was that you didn't want to repeat the act.

The boys that were hanging out with him turned around to hide the giggling mess they were, while Bakugo only grunted in response, clenching his fist beside his stiff body.

"Why? Is there a problem down there? Is it itching or falling off?" He squinted his eyes at you, trying vehemently to put you down with his words. You denied moving your head like you didn't care at all about his attitude. "I don't have any STD. You should have seen it yourself when you were sucking me off"

Well, that was something a few people around heard. Scratch the "Don't be part of the rumor" from the list.

"Yeah, I should've had, but I forgot to bring my magnifying glass with me, that's completely on me, not your fault that you weren't blessed with something as big as your fucking ego"

The hushed screams of his friends were the beat you needed to turn around and leave him hanging. He had a piercing mouth, and you were almost trembling from the exchange of words, and yet, you didn't have the answer that you expected. Was he clean or not? Bakugo was a trustworthy man? Jeez, what a fucker.

Again, for the second time of the day you made your own walk of shame to your room.

"And, what did he say?" Jirou was waiting for you while she gathered all her belongings (and Denki's) to her side of the room.

"He said he doesn't have STD but I don't know if I should trust him...the scene was pretty intense." You sat in your bed, and she looked at you incredulously.

"Intense, how?" She quirked a brow, and you just shrugged before telling her everything.

"You did what!?" Denki stomped through the door. He was obviously listening behind the door like an old woman.

You hid your face in between your hands, internally screaming exhausted because of your poor decisions. Why did you leave the party with him of all people?

"He just nipped under my skin, and I had to defend myself, that's all," you tried to excuse yourself.

"You know that encounter is going to be the gossip of the week, right?" Jirou tapped your head gaining your attention. "You can't run of it"

"Jeez, I know"

All the situation was escalating from bad to worse real quick.

"Okay, fine, let's chill for a sec," Denki interrupted. "I'll find out about Kacchan medical records and I'll let you know, don't worry about it"

That's a good friend.

"Yeah, Denki can take care of that while you..."

"While I what?" You took your face off your hands.

"You know the rumor is going to spread before monday, right? You have to talk to Aizawa before he knows all of it in the worst way"

Shit. You had completely forgotten about the man who was kind enough to take you under his wing and be your guardian.

This was about to get good.

Let me know if you like it

taglist: @kiridagremiln @aefillor @screechingfangirlaf @chuugarettes @gold24fish @dreamcastgirl99 @andyetshewrote @budibbly @candiiee @linkfromskywardsword @galaneiaeris @fantasynerd05 @big-denki-energy @3thr3al @marsbars09 @whatswrong7 @scaranthropy

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[azsazz]

Over Ice

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: I think we could really have fun with the different courts and Illyrian values on a thematic basis but ALSO if the reader is in something very artsy and hasn’t really been into sports and then she’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!! She decides to wear Cass’ jersey to make him mad and when he finally gets a hold of her after the game: *cue innocent shrug* he asked me to!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3032

Notes: While I work on a plot for an azzy hockey x figure skater au, please enjoy a rhys hockey au 🤪

This was originally an Az idea but I thought it fit better for Rhys bby so here we are. I feel like I've forgotten how to write and this is shit (dont judge me im going thru smthin rn)

_________________________________________

A giant FU stares up at you.

Well, actually, it’s only an F, but it may as well be the former with the way it’s circled in thick, red ink.

Three. Fucking. Times.

Tears sting the back of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. It never feels good, failing, and even if you’d gotten a C+ like you hoped, you would’ve still beaten yourself up over the grade because plain and simple: that’s who you are.

Two months ago, at the beginning of the semester, psychology had seemed like a breeze. The lectures were easy to listen to and intriguing, and you had no trouble following along with the professors’ slideshows as you took detailed notes of everything on the screen. Your assigned readings were completed in a similar state, though they weren’t graded but included important information you’d find on the tests.

Somewhere along the line, your grade slipped, and you don’t remember if it had been between studying for Biology or reveling in your newfound freedom away from your parents, partying and enjoying a true college experience with your roommates.

Whatever happened, the repercussions are hitting you right in the face, the taunting letter you have never seen before on any of your assignments throughout all your years of learning.

If your parents saw this, they would bring the entire house down with their scolding.

It’s not like you didn’t try. You studied, even if the word is a loose term for what material you used. Things started piling up this month, with it being a new semester and all. You didn’t schedule out the time to focus on psychology when the classes you were really interested in—Introduction to Nutrition and Kinesiology—took first and second place for your attention. Plus, with the number of social events your best friends—who are also conveniently your roommates—invited you too, it was almost impossible to say no. Friends are a vital part of the college experience and you were in desperate need of some fun after having spent the summer lounging at home with your parents.

You found a psych support group that met at the library once a week to study together. It wasn’t anything like you thought it would be, a bunch of clueless students with grades similar to yours. All they seemed to want to do with your precious time was bitch and moan about the professor instead of actually trying to conquer the areas of study for the upcoming test.

And now the consequences of your actions have made themselves known.

Grumbling, you shove the test into your binder before shutting it with a snap that does nothing to ease your frustration. A few students still trail from the room, though most bolted right after being released. Some linger at the bottom of the lecture hall where the professor sits, answering their questions.

You have about a million-and-one of your own but you’re too worked up about your grade to go down there and hash it out with Mr. Hybern. His peppery colored hair is perfectly coiffed on this terrible day, his beard trimmed close to his jowls. His gleaming, golden skin makes you think that maybe he’d spent his weekend grading tests out in the sun, and you have half a mind to stomp your way down the stairs and demand a second review of your test.

It wouldn’t solve your irritation, and it would certainly be embarrassing if in fact your F is correct.

Placing your binder, notebook, and pens back into your bag, you zip it, sling it over your shoulder, and make your way to the exit, holding your chin high because if there’s one thing you’re not going to do, is cry over your terrible, awful grade in public.

The waterworks will just have to wait until you’re locked in your private bedroom in your shared dorm.

There is good news. It’s Friday, which means you can snag the pint of your favorite ice cream that your roommates won’t dare touch because ‘no ice cream that’s worth it should have fruit in it, that’s like asking for a steak on your spaghetti.’ You have no idea what Mor—one of your roommates—was on about when she brought up the awful comparison, and in reply all you’d done is scooped out a chunk of cherries embedded into the creamy, pink goodness and stuffed it into your mouth.

With it being the weekend, you can also wallow well into the night without having to worry about hiding your puffy eyes in the morning. You’ll have all day tomorrow to figure out a plan of action, once you allow yourself the time to properly grieve and process…and maybe have a drink or two.

You shoulder through the heavy lecture hall door with your head down, hiding the red stain to your cheeks. So, maybe you’re not going to hold you head high as you trail back to your dorm, but you will not cry.

The door swings open and you barely catch the noise of surprise before you’re barreling into something that’s akin to a brick wall. Your breath leaves your body in a whoosh and your balance slips out from under you, arms flailing as you fall.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it never comes.

Slowly, mortified because you know exactly what’s cushioned your fall, you peek your eyes open, carefully meeting a sapphire gaze that surely would take your breath away should you have any left.

This close, you can see the perfection of his angular features: a long, straight nose, high cheekbones under the dusting of pink that caresses his own face. His lashes are dark as charcoal, the same color of his hair that looks as soft as silk.

Whatever it is that has you entranced by his beauty, the sentiment seems to be mutual. Those bright eyes trace across your features, carefully drinking you in. You don’t know if you’re thankful that your face is already as red as the marker on your test or if you want him to see the way your cheeks go molten.

There’s a warmth against your hips that you don’t notice until he speaks, his hands that have a solid grip around you, keeping you steady to his chest. His whispered breath brushes across your lips. “By all means,” he teases softly, “Take your time.”

“Oh, my Gods, I am so sorry,” you squeak, rolling off his chest. You can hear his chuckling as you scramble to climb to your feet, but your knees are so weak at the sight—and touch—of the most handsome man you’ve ever seen lifting gracefully to his feet, holding a hand down to help you up.

You try not to notice just how big his hand is in yours, and for the second time today, you fail.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says, displaying an easy grin that makes your heart stutter in your chest. The door opens with a loud click and the both of you startle. His hand comes down warmly on your spine, ushering you out of the way of the student that’s beaming grin falters into apology at the idea of almost running you down, already on the phone with someone and gushing over their test result.

It’s hard to reign in your glare.

The student’s conversation seems to jolt the man out of his stupor. He blinks, shaking his head as if to rid him of a spell you might have cast on him, or maybe he’s testing to see if he has a concussion from the fall.

When he returns his attention to you, it takes everything in your power not to melt into a puddle beneath that gaze.

“Is Mr. H still passing out tests?” he asks, and you swallow the sourness that accompanies the name of your professor. You and he are not on good terms right now, not that this boy knows that.

“Yeah,” you answer, remembering you saw him sitting on his throne (desk chair) with his loyal citizens (students) kissing his feet (talking through their tests). “I think so.” Then, because you’re pretty sure you would remember a face like his if he were in your lecture, you ask, “Are you in this class?”

“No,” he answers with a scoff that tells you he breezed by this class. “I took Psych 101 freshman year, but I have Professor Hybern again for Cognitive Psychology and I need to turn in my paper early.”

Turning in a paper early? What is he, some kind of genius?

“Oh,” you answer lamely, “Cool.”

His answering grin cracks open the casing of the butterflies you didn’t know were living in your stomach, taking off in a flurry of emotion.

He shrugs like he couldn’t really care less about any of it, but to you, the fact that he’s managed to pass Psych 101 at all is an impressive feat, though you don’t know why he’d sign up for even more torture. “Sure. Look, I’ve got to run, but are you sure you’re okay?”

It’s nice of him to ask if you’re okay when he’s the one who had his back painted to the floor only moments ago. “Yeah, I’m fine, but I should be the one asking you that. Are you okay?”

His laughter is rich and warm, and you want to melt into it. Before you have the chance to make even more a fool of yourself in front of this handsome stranger, he answers. “I’ve been checked harder, darling. You have a nice day now.”

“Thanks, you too,” your words trail off as he catches the door on its next outswing, ducking inside without waiting for your response.

Jeeze, he must really be in a rush, then.

It’s when you exit the doors to the psychology building that you curse yourself. You should’ve gotten his number, his name at least. You could’ve invited him over for something more distracting and yummier than the ice cream you’d planned on demolishing.

At least you have something better to think about tonight than your test.

With a heavy sigh, you allow your backpack to fall off your shoulder. Now that you’ve arrived back to your dorm, you’re suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever.

The walk home from class had been nice, your time spent thinking about the boy you’d run into. The broadness of his shoulders you didn’t seem to notice until he turned away, stretching wide beneath his tight t-shirt. The bulge of his biceps beneath said t-shirt, flexing as he pulled the door open for himself. The shape of his ass in those snug jeans.

The sight of that is what had your eyes nearly popping from your head. What’s he doing that gives him such a bubblicious ass? Squats? Lunges? You can do those. You choose not to, but if there’s a guarantee that you’d have an ass like that, you’d start right this second.

Tucking your lip into your mouth in concentration, you plant your hands on your hips, making your way to the refrigerator that your ice cream is housed in, lunging your way there.

It’s not that far, the communal space in your shared dorm is small, but your heartrate is elevated by the time you’re two lunges away from your prize: your ice cream.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Mother!” You shout as the voice of your roommate breaks your concentration. Your knees wobble and your thighs shake, unable to hold you up from the burst of exertion you used. You clearly need to get into the gym more, another thing to add to your already busy schedule. “You scared me!”

Mor rolls her chocolate-brown eyes, sliding into one of the stools at your counter. It’s not built for it, the laminate countertop doesn’t hang over the island far enough for your legs to fit, but you and your roommates thought they were cute, nonetheless. You can suffer having to hunch over your knees to reach your cereal bowls in the mornings in favor of having more space for company to sit.

When you haul yourself off the ground, you take in your roommate. She’s wearing some kind of jersey, one you’ve never even seen in her wardrobe before, and you probably spend more time in there than her because she has every item of clothing you could ever imagine. The top she’s wearing now totally clashes with everything that screams Mor: silk scarves, tight bodice tops, leather pants, and what she has on now isn’t even red, a color that’s a staple in her closet.

“Well, if you were paying attention,” she scolds playfully, flipping open the compact in her hand, checking her makeup in the tiny mirror. She makes a few faces that would make you chuckle if you didn’t notice how she looks like she’s ready to go out, and that means she’s going to try to drag you with. “You would’ve heard me walk into the room. I am wearing heels, you know.”

Of course you know. Mor doesn’t do sneakers, only when it’s five in the morning and the sun is still sleeping, the perfect time for working out where nobody will catch her. Maybe I should join her, you think, mind wandering back to that boy’s butt.

“Why are your cheeks all red?” She asks, planting her palms on the counter and leaning towards you, eyes narrowed in inquisition.

“Nothing,” you wave her off, reaching for the door to the freezer. It’s the last thing between you and the cherry chunk ice cream calling your name.

Before you can open it more than an inch, it slams closed, Mor’s sharp, bright red fingernails splayed out to stop you.

Damnit, how does she move so silently?

“What do you think you’re doing?” You question each other at the same time, biting back your smiles at the mistake.

She answers first. “Why do you look like you’re about to get the ice cream, put your pajamas on, and wallow in bed all night?”

“Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” you cross your arms over your chest defiantly. “So, if you’ll excuse me…” You trail off, hoping she’ll step away and leave you to your peace.

She doesn’t. That’s not Mor.

“I had a rough day!”

“You say that every day,” she whines, stomping her heel-clad foot. “Don’t you even want to know what I’m inviting you to tonight?”

“From the look of your clothes, no, I don’t want to know what you’re doing tonight, Mor, and no, I don’t want to join you, either.”

Your roommate scrunches her nose, tipping it towards the ceiling. “I’ll have you know that this outfit is cute.”

“Yeah, if the definition of cute changed to ‘not pleasing or appealing to look at.’”

“You take that back,” Mor shouts, full naming you.

As your lips part in apology, because that was rude of you, your other roommate pads out of her room. Her reading glasses are perched up on her nose, blue eyes round and wide, and it always looks like she’s looking around the room in wonder. She has a blanket thrown over her shoulders and looks every bit of cozy you wish you were.

“Gwyn,” you sigh in relief at the sight of her. “Please, help.”

“I already said no,” she offers you a sympathetic wince. “I don’t think there’s any getting you out of the hockey game, sorry babe.”

Now it’s your jaw that falls to the floor. No, it falls through the floor and about five more floors down, hitting the lobby with a crack that echoes through the building.

You whirl on Mor. “Hockey game? Since when have you been interested in hockey?”

“Since my cousin got named team captain this year,” she says smugly, and you don’t know why she’s acting vain, it just means that he’s captain of the douchebags now, even you know that. Mor turns, showing off the back of her jersey. The number one stands out like a beacon, and you brush her blonde hair over her shoulder to read the smaller patches spelling out what is in fact, her family name.

Cunningham.

“Think of all the parties we’ll get into,” she says over her shoulder, and she does have a point there. The athletes at your college are a group of students that you don’t ever interact with, nor do you care. Mor is all about connections though, and if she wants to go to the hockey game, then it looks like you’re going with her.

You wonder what excuse Gwyn used to get out of it. She looks mighty comfy right now, slinking over the plop down on the couch and turn on a movie.

“Why do we have to go to the game? Can’t we just go to the parties?” You ask, grasping for anything to get out of this. You don’t want to go sit in the cold arena and watch a bunch of guys wearing full-body padding slide up and down the ice. Why couldn’t her cousin have been on the baseball team? They have nice, tight uniforms.

“Because,” Mor emphasizes with a glare, spinning to face you once more to give you the full effect of her irritation. “I’m a good cousin, and if we don’t attend the games, we’re going to be blacklisted from the parties,” she grumbles, the fight leaving her a little bit. “I’ve already argued about it with Rhys, I don’t want to have to argue with you too.”

It’s with your sigh that Mor brightens. “Fine. I’ll come with you, but I’m not going to be happy about it. And don’t expect me to cheer.”

Her squeal pierces the sound barrier. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

Mor grabs your hand, dragging you towards the empty single room that’s left in your dorm. She uses it as an extension of her closet until someone else gets placed with you. So far, you’ve been lucky, living here since freshman year, just the three of you. “Great! I got you a shirt!”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

[prael]

pas de deux - IVE An Yujin (ft. Jang Wonyoung)

Part 1 of folie à deux.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

18+ An Yujin (and Jang Wonyoung) x Male Reader smut

Masterlist Word Count: 7,727

folie à deux - folly (madness) of two pas de deux - a dance for two

It's survival—that's how you mask it.

It's the hard reality you tell yourself to justify being the pseudo-servant to these two girls, just to make the year as easy as possible so you can graduate. Playing their games. Never questioning their words or actions. The house of cards they've built is fragile but they keep it in check.

Somehow, you're one of the cards, one wall of the house. You've only been in the school a month. The fresh-faced transfer who fell into the grasp of the two girls who practically run the place. You can't deny it has its benefits. Like every one of Yujin and Wonyoung's friends, no one ever questions anything and you would never run the risk of falling into the bad books of school bullies.

Oh, and you also get to fuck Wonyoung senseless.

Luckily, the walls of the library are thick, everyone else is in class and the library door is locked. Or someone would have heard the squirming Wonyoung moaning expletives by now.

"Harder." Her nails threaten to pierce the skin. Claws gripped to your forearm. Her words are sharper still, cutting through the air with the same lethality as her looks. "Stop, stop, stop. Hand, there. Circles, remember. And go fucking harder will you?" You position as instructed, how you know she likes it. There's no room for creative freedom here—it's Wonyoung's way or it's no way.

But, god. She knows exactly how to break you—just enough that when she puts you back together, your mismatched pieces slot perfectly into her shape, allowing her to completely mould and manipulate you at her will, at her whim. And oh, does she love when you let her.

"That's it, there. Yes!" Wonyoung presses the heel of her foot into the small of your back, pushing you further in, urging you closer and deeper, drawing a hoarse groan from her throat. She's sprawled flat on the desk, on the second floor of the library. You're looking over the balcony, down at the empty room. It's almost monotonous, it happens at the same time every week. Hidden in the same top corner of the same library, at the same time on the same day. You've got her legs spread and your cock in her cunt.

Your fingers are digging into her thighs, pinning her hips to the desk. You don't falter once, going exactly as fast, exactly as hard, and exactly as deep as she likes it. Her movements are in tune with yours. Familiarity. Wonyoung's perfectly groomed eyebrows are furrowed, heart-shaped lips pursed, eyes scrunched shut.

"You're close, right? I can feel it..." Your words come out ragged and laboured. This isn't supposed to feel good for you, you aren't supposed to have an opinion. It's her own fantasy—an excuse for her to let herself get fucked like a little whore without question or consequence—your body's just along for the ride. You're not an actor in the scene, not a participant. You are the means to an end; a character-prop. Something to be used by the main character. To further her plot.

She responds with a shaky mewl that turns into a string of frantic cries, her slender, legs locking around you.

It ends how it always ends.

She cums. Hard.

You don't. Too messy, she says. You can't cum inside, you can't cum on her and you can't just cum on the library desk. Too risky and unhygienic. It's almost cute watching her try to cover up her gasp and squeal as she rides her high, biting down onto her soft sleeve, probably tearing through a layer of fabric with her pearly whites.

That's just how it is with Wonyoung.

***

"There you are!" Yujin is by your side and snaking her arm around yours, holding you just above the elbow and leaning against you. "Where's Wony?"

"Probably halfway down the highway by now, her boyfriend picked her up fifteen minutes ago," you explain as if it's the most normal thing in the world that Wonyoung hopped off your cock and into her boyfriend's car in the space of ten minutes. But that’s the life she lives—you live.

"You can take me straight home then, let's go." Yujin smiles up at you with her signature grin and those half-moon eyes. If Wonyoung were the definition of danger, Yujin was still just that, but wrapped up in cotton wool and given to a puppy. Her playful expression could melt even the hardest heart, and yet, thanks to her money, she too could get away with just about anything.

At least Yujin made your life easier. There was a little more give and take in your friendship—unlike with Wonyoung.

Still, you wonder exactly how the two of them do it. The whole school around their little fingers. The teachers—they overlook Wonyoung's little indiscretions as soon as the excuses leave her pretty little mouth, so convincing is her act. And then there's Yujin, she—

"You bitch!" In sync, you and Yujin look away from each other and towards the two young ladies holding each other by handfuls of hair. You don't know either of them, but they are blocking the way to your car.

"What's going on here?" asks Yujin, speaking louder than normal to ensure that her voice breaks through the constant bickering. The voices quieten and the hands release their grips, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

The pair turn to you both as they both speak at the same time. "This whore took my earrings!" One points at the other.

"Yeah? These are my earrings. How dense can you be?" one fires back, clearly pissed off, making exaggerated hand gestures for emphasis.

"Bitch, they belong to me! Stop taking things that aren’t yours, you slut! This is you and Jisun’s boyfriend all over again!"

"Ladies, please," Yujin says calmly, in just those two words she captivates attention. "You girls are friends, right?" She doesn’t give time for a response. "Well, if you're really friends, you'll sit and talk about this instead of pulling each other's hair. And if I'm being totally honest, those earrings don't exactly look worth the effort."

They lower their fists slowly, looking a little less angry now and more embarrassed to be told off. You half expect a little, "yes, mother" and an apology from them.

"Great!" Yujin says after some silence. She tugs gently on your arm, strutting between the two girls with you in tow. They stand and watch as you pass by. You only get a step or two past them before Yujin stops.

She turns to face the girls, still staring wide-eyed at the two of you. "Actually, aren't you girls forgetting something? You owe us both an apology."

The two exchange glances, looking surprised by the statement. "Wh-what for?" one asks, eyes darting nervously between you and her friend, who seems equally puzzled.

"For being in our way." The pair look around and suddenly notice the small crowd around you, phones pulled out, cameras glaring. They pale almost immediately. And you can see that they know this only ends one way. Because no one says no to Yujin.

The girls nervously get down on their knees and bow their heads. "I-I'm sorry!"

"We're sorry!"

"Excuse us!"

"Please forgive us!" They're flustered, apologizing to you and Yujin as though their lives depend on it. It feels like forever has passed when Yujin finally laughs and turns away.

"Have a lovely evening, ladies," she says in a tone sweeter than sugar, leaving the girls kneeling and guiding you again towards your car.

For all intents and purposes, these two girls are fucking crazy.

Delusional.

folie à deux

***

"You will stay and eat. I insist." It's ever so clear where she gets it from. Just like his daughter, Yujin's father simply would not take "no" for an answer. You know that really, you have no choice but the lock the car and follow Yujin up the steps into her house.

"Make sure our guest is comfortable." He glances at the maid to signal her. You notice a flinch, though only passing—the girl is nervous. No one can relax when they're in the presence of an Ahn. After his instruction, he walks into the door without another word.

You make the climb Yujin had not two minutes earlier, up the stairs and into the front door of the house, through the door left open, which the maid closes behind you.

The mansion's interior is exactly what you expect—luxurious, opulent and vast. But where you thought there might be a hint of the gaudy and tacky, there is only tasteful, expensive decorating, the finest of furniture, and grandeur befitting the family who owns it. As always, there's not a thing out of place.

Yujin's at the top of the stairs. She has already swapped out her formal blouse for a comfortable t-shirt, but she still wears the pleated skirt she did before, sitting just above the knee. "Couldn't escape father then? I think he likes you."

"He doesn't show it if he does." You shrug.

"He didn't wave you away without a word. That means he likes you." Yujin speaks as she walks down the stairs towards you. Off somewhere to your right, you hear the busywork of the kitchen, preparing the food he insisted you eat. "It's funny because I can't think why..."

She mocks you in the way she always does, with a grin on her face.

"It must be my wit, charm, personality, and incredible looks," you tell her with a wry smile.

"Huh... I didn't know my dad was gay."

"Shame he's not really my type." It's your turn to grin now.

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, that's an understatement. I know your type."

"Maybe you do," you say while climbing the stairs to meet her at the top.

She stares you down for a moment and you wait for her latest quip. She eventually looks over your shoulder, down the stairs to the maid. Yujin informs her, "We will eat in the upstairs lounge."

***

"And Gaeul, did you hear?" Yujin can barely contain her excitement as she slams her chopsticks on the table. The conversation had been flowing for a while now, mostly from Yujin as she fills you in with all the recent gossip on people you barely know.

"Which one is she again?" This one you already know, but you always enjoy the way she describes and introduces her friends. It’s so often so unserious.

"Kim Gaeul, the one in my dance class." Yujin pauses. Her eyes roll. "You know the one. Short hair, even shorter skirt. Cute smile, even cuter ass?"

That would probably narrow it down.

"Okay, but what about her?"

"Well you know that guy she's dating? The German guy?" The love lives of Yujin's friends are a bit of a blur. The more you hear about them, the less sense it all makes. "He proposed!"

"They are that serious?"

"Very! I guess it was love at first sight. Gaeul certainly saw something she liked."

"They're still young. It's a big commitment."

"But, if you want something, you should take it," Yujin affirms.

"Just like a criminal," you joke.

Yujin giggles. Something is charming about Yujin's laughter. There's an innocence and lightheartedness to her that brings you a sense of tranquillity. Suddenly, a weight rests on your shoulder. A chin nestles into the side of your neck. Warm, moist air fills your ear, "Maybe you could learn a thing or two. Life's too short to wait around and hesitate."

The weight and air vanish, and suddenly you feel cold. Yujin's French perfume lingers in your nose. "And it's good for her right, she must be getting fucked a lot." Yujin continues as normal as though the moment never happened. She picks up a piece of meat between her chopsticks, taking care not to get the sauce all over her. She brings it closer to her lips, smiling ever so slyly the whole way.

Yujin takes a drink before she continues, “and so Rei said to her that…”

She continues onto rest of the story and the many more after which you don’t really pay attention to, the moment before still lingering on your mind.

***

"As delicious as always." The two of you had spent at least an hour in the upstairs lounge, eating as you talked, catching up with events, and then talking about nothing in particular.

The maid bows at your compliment before taking away the tray of leftovers and leaving the room.

Yujin lay her arms over her chest as she leans back into the couch. Her eyes roll as her head falls to the side, staring over at the bookcase behind you.

"I hate reading." You can hear her disgust in her tone. "Dull, pointless, useless, boring..."

Yujin stops, eyes fixed upon you. Her eyebrows pull together with curiosity. "But you must love it, right?"

"There are worse hobbies."

She gives a thin-lipped grin, unconvinced. Yujin tilts her head to the other said, hair thrown over her head to settle on the other side, "do you, though? Because you and Wonyoung spend a lot of time in the library."

She knows. Of course she knows.

"Just studying." You smile weakly and give an awkward laugh, running your hand through your hair. 

"Wonyoung doesn't study." She says that flatly, cutting the air. Yujin may well be the only person in the school who dares to question the actions of her best friend. She has no interest in playing along with the lie.

You sit in silence. Any excuse would only be an insult to her intelligence.

"You're lucky really," she muses, her fingers absentmindedly tugging at the frilled edge of her skirt. Yujin makes a conscious effort to cross her long legs, exposing the small expanse of creamy flesh where the skin between the hem and knee socks met.

"Why is that?" you ask, with eyes fixed firmly on the tantalising flesh.

"Every other guy in school would kill for an hour alone with Wonyoung." Yujin purred.

"A bit drastic. They want what any young, single man would want."

"Hmm, those poor things are a second away from cumming in their pants just being in the same room as her."

Yujin gave a delightful, innocent-girl smile, contrasting with her crass language. She wore her angel-like grin with a devil's look. "Not you though. Which is exactly why she wants you."

"Why?" Your eyes flicker to the floor, away from Yujin. The thoughts circle.

"Like I said: they're far too eager for her to respect them, but not you. No." She spoke clearly, firmly. "The way you stare at her, it's almost as if you don't care that much for her."

"Not sure I understand. She is a friend, I care." you admit.

"But you don't beg it like the other boys do. She must find that attractive about you, not being desperate, but still willing." Her legs uncross slowly, tortuously so, pulling her legs apart ever so slightly. She smooths the crease of the pleats over her thighs.

You sense a chance to turn the wind and sail the conversation in Yujin's direction. "What about you? The one boy from art class seems really desperate to get close to you."

The vaguest flash of surprise came across her eyes, as if you'd interrupted her. The shock passes.

"Ah. Him." She rolls her eyes, puffing her cheeks as she does. A disgusted grimace mars her angelic expression.

"He's into you." Who isn't?

"I can tell. Not my type." She waves dismissively, having no need for your words. "I can," she pauses over her words, "take care of myself."

A creeping heat climbs your spine. "Really?" Your question sounds more curious than teasing, though your tone carries more than a hint of amusement.

Her slender shoulders shrug ever so casually. "Of course I can. Everyone needs a little," she purrs the next word, "dissipation."

It is the wording more than anything that draws a pensive mood. Yujin said it casually enough, with her fingers absentmindedly pressing up and down her exposed leg, almost as if the mere thought of it was enough to excite her. Her gaze glazes over at some unseen memory, and she gives a knowing smirk before her thoughts snap back to the real world.

"Yujin, I—"

She cuts you off, "there are so many, too many, horny boys in the world, but so few are dependable." The hand tracing her thigh edges just a centimetre further upwards, folding the pleat under the touch. "it was nice to have you here for dinner, but I have something I need to do."

"Are you expecting me to go so that you can...?"

The smile spreads from ear-to-ear across her face. "I'm not saying anything. But you know where the door is." She rises from her seat, a perfectly poised princess, and moves gracefully towards the door. Her body swaying under her baggy shirt and flowing skirt.

She doesn't give you time for a reply.

You're left alone with only the dying embers of her expensive perfume.

***

Class finished early and you're waiting. As you always did when you finished before the girls.

However, this time is different. You haven’t seen Yujin all day and aren’t sure how to act when you do. Not after what you saw yesterday. You lean back against your locker, streams of people passing by. Most ignore you, or the few that acknowledge you pay only a glance or two before continuing.

"Hey, Gaeul," you call to the one girl you recognise passing by, "have you seen Yujin?"

"Bro, she left already." You don't know when she started calling you bro. Maybe she always had. Could be part of her friendly nature. Gaeul is about as easygoing as they come.

"Is something wrong with her?"

"Nah." A gap appears in the crowd and you move to join her, heading out of the building. "You know how it is. If she wants to leave five minutes early, no one will stop her."

Another student cuts between the two of you, forcing you towards another group that blocks your way. You spin away to avoid them, manoeuvring through like a speeding car on the highway, catching up with the on-rushing Gaeul.

"And she didn't say anything?" you ask when finally back by her side. Gaeul's looking at her phone—probably reading a text from her husband-to-be.

"Hm?" Gaeul throws a glance out of courtesy. "No." she mutters before replying to the text.

"Nothing?"

Gaeul opens the door to the outside and you follow her through. She's striding like a girl with places to be, so you have to half-jog to get back by her side.

"Oh! Yujin did tell me to tell you something, actually. She said, tell him to act like a criminal. Whatever that means."

Act like a criminal.

"Thanks Gaeul," you speak quickly, diverting towards your car.

"Bro! What does it mean?" Gaeul calls after you but you don't wait around to answer.

***

The maid is there to greet you when you knock on the door of Yujin's house. Apparently, Yujin is waiting for you upstairs, and after letting you into the Ahn house for the second time in as many days, the maid disappears again into the background, leaving you to explore.

You see, yesterday ended almost unceremoniously. You stayed for dinner, you ate, talked, laughed. And then you left.

Except, it wasn't actually that simple. After Yujin left the room, you held around for a minute, finishing your drink. The ice-cold one in the fancy tumbler. Taking in the room around, as for all the time you had spent in there, you were more focused on Yujin than the exquisite decor. You admired it for all it's worth and savoured your drink until you decided that you shouldn't overstay your welcome.

It should have been simple. Walk to your car, get in, and go home.

Until you walked down the corridor and found a door ajar with the smallest of gaps. You leant gently against the frame, peering in just enough to give you a view of the bed.

On the bed was the girl you expected to find. On the bed was Ahn Yujin.

The curtains were closed, but enough sunlight managed to peak through. Light bounced off the soft skin. Each breath sent her chest swelling. You followed every rise and fall with hungry eyes.

With the afternoon sun kissing her flesh, highlighting the curve of her shoulder and collarbone, she looked even more heavenly. She wore her short hair wild, swept back and almost messy. And that's all she wore.

Her clothes discarded. A crumpled heap just beside the bed. And yet, there was a strangely intimate beauty in their chaos. As if she had just stumbled out of them in some urgent and carnal heat.

Her entire being had been shaped into perfection, carved from a block of ivory, her delicate fingers, smooth legs, slender shoulders and bare chest roseand fell with the soft inhales of breathing.

It was not the Yujin you knew; there was no hint of her elegance and poise. Here only lustful indulgence. A reckless hedonism that wanted no secrets to be kept or questions to be unanswered. Her body lay free of the bounds that normalcy imposes, inviting you to admire what she kept concealed, every precious curve and secret corner of her immaculate skin, every beautiful mark and blemish, that, in itself, was a testament to the humanity that lies just under the surface of such sublime beauty.

There was no doll, nor porcelain queen. No statue of stone or plaster. Instead, she was living, breathing, moving and feeling. Each touch was electricity. And her eyes said it all.

There was woman—in its rawest form.

And you had stood. You had stared. For as long as you dared. Until you tried to tear yourself away. You could not deny your perverted mind that moment of indulgence. And indulge you did, right up until the fear of being caught overcame you.

It should have been so simple. Walk to your car, get in, and go home.

For the last twenty-four hours, the image plagued your mind. You were consumed with her. With the idea of her. Of what she had done, of what could have been had you dared enter her room. And the guilt alongside it.

And now you're here, a day later, walking back to the scene of your crime. The door is ajar again, a few feet ahead. You push lightly, gently, inch by inch. Your breath held and the anticipation thick, clouding your mind and filling every thought, not of anything other than what you might see behind that door.

And then it comes into view. The bed and the disappointment.

A bed perfectly made, and decidedly empty.

You realise your folly—thinking, hoping, expecting the same sordid sight as before.

"I was wondering if you'd turn up." Her voice comes from behind you and her tone is low, hushed, and seductive. Every word tingles down the spine. Her fragrance arrives a beat ahead of the girl herself. "Did you get my message?"

"Yeah, about being a criminal," you answer as innocently as you can manage, still recovering from the shock.

"Exactly. As criminals, we take, without question, what we desire," Yujin whispers the last few words in your ear, a heavy, breathy tone that takes any resolve left in you and melts it before it's even fully formed. Her scent surrounds you. It overwhelms you.

"Yesterday, what you saw me do," she begins, her fingers reaching for your arm, gliding gently and purposefully, drawing slow patterns with a single nail, "you had the decency to resist temptation, but I don't want that." Her fingers grip your forearm tightly.

"It doesn't matter why you resisted. All I know is that you watched me... touch myself, pleasure myself. Do I turn you on?" She knew damn well the effect she was having.

You answer her question with another question. "Yujin, what are you playing at?"

"You're smart. Don't you know how this goes?" She steps, smooths around the shape of you, and into your field of vision. "Don’t you know why you’re here?" 

She raises her arms slowly, making a show of her body. With all the possible casualness, she smooths her hands up her sides, slowly, passing her stomach and onto her chest, and gently caressing. A shirt clings to her slim frame. The thin fabric is practically see-through, clinging to every delicious curve. The bottom few inches lifting, revealing flesh and the lines of lace trim on her matching her cream panties.

"I can't fight it, Yujin." Your hands find their way to the curves of her waist. She wriggles under the touch, happy to have the reaction she desires.

"Fight what?" She smirks, clearly amused by your confession and how easily you give in to her. Her hands roll gently across her breasts.

"The alarm in my head saying it’s a bad idea."

"Don’t fight it. Because I'm really, really hot," she whispers as pulls her top up her body. It rolls over her head and flops to the floor and you marvel, breathless and hungry, at the expanse of silky skin and feminine curves.

Her hands stroke at your crotch and she laughs softly. "Hard already?"

Her fingers curl and squeeze around the outline. She gives an approving smirk at the way it twitches under her touch, even as she mocks its hardness. "For me, huh?"

You nod, and she smirks. You move your hands up her body, but just as you begin; she twists free and walks towards her bed.

"Go, stand." Yujin points at the centre of her bedroom, towards the foot of her bed.

The carpet beneath you is soft, and you're barefoot. Walking. Watching. Eyes never leaving Yujin. Her bare thighs, defined, slender and soft. The curves, so gentle, and her accentuated hips. Her round, shapely behind, cradled so perfectly in tight-fitting panties. You have barely reached your position when she looks at you from over her shoulder and wiggles her panties slowly down her legs and leaves them on the floor.

She's crawling on the bed. You can't move—you barely manage to breathe. Each breath burns your throat. You're motionless, speechless, hypnotised in awe at Yujin. As requested (perhaps ordered) you remain. Watching from afar. Yujin seats herself on her bed with delicacy, her knees pressed together.

"I have to be honest with you," she confesses. "I'm not going to fuck you. But you can help me. If you're willing, that is."

"Anything" is your reflex response. You're powerless. She has you in the palm of her hand, and the growing ache in your groin, which was eager to be free of the confines of your pants, only affirms your thoughts.

"Are you sure?" Her head tilted to the side, teasing you with naivete. Yujin laid a single, slender finger on her lip and pulled it down suggestively. "If you come over here," Yujin insisted, her free hand parting her knees and patting the bed between her thighs, "then we could help each other."

There's a flurry of activity. You pull off your shirt and leave your trousers behind. Now you're kneeling across from her.

"Watch me. Just watch." Her voice is softer now, sultry, as her fingers ghost down the column of her neck, along her collarbones and then tracing the curve of her breasts, with the lightest grazes against her nipples. Her eyes fall closed as she carries on tracing feathery touches on her torso.

To be here now is all you could have wanted, really. If anything is happening beyond the sound of her shortening breaths and soft hums and her hand snaking between her legs, it's beyond your awareness. Yujin is shifting in front of you, wiggling and squirming; biting at her lip until it reddens and fills; gasping at the gentle caress of fingertips sliding slick against the smooth lips between her legs.

"No touching, just look." As if to drive the point home, her gaze holds on you for a moment, her lips curling into the sweetest smile. As a reward for your patience, her eyes grow warm and welcoming. Her legs spread wider, and Yujin hums. Her touch builds slowly, making small circles. There's no sign of urgency to her actions, none of the frustration that Wonyoung showed when waiting for her release. But Yujin isn't simply touching; it isn't about release. She's revelling.

Her breasts move with her heavy breaths. Her body trembles; her legs shake. She leans back slowly, taking support from her elbow, exposing herself wholly to you, with her head pressing back into her pillow, her hair sprawling in a mess and her pink lips slightly agape as her mouth shapes sounds that die as quickly as they're born.

"Yujin, I..." You lean forward onto your knees, placing an arm by her hip and another by her shoulder. You're hovering over her. Watching the display before you in stunned silence.

She grabs a handful of her tit, squeezing and moaning. "Keep talking," she breathes, her lips still quivering.

"I want you so bad."

She presses harder and slides her finger a little lower, dipping inside her cunt. Her other hand goes to your arm, then strokes over your bicep up to your neck. "You can do better than that." She whispers, wrapping her hand around your nape.

"How could I not want you?" Your knees are between her legs, you lower yourself closer without breaking her rule. You do not touch. "Not when you smell so enticing. Or sound so delightful. Or look so stunning."

Her mouth opens, panting breaths and half-uttered sighs fill the air. "And?"

Strands of hair fall over her face, you bring a hand up and hover it near to them, seeking her approval. Her eyes dart to your hand and consider it for a moment before giving the gentlest of approving nods. Your hand brushes the strands to the side. Her cheeks are bright and rosy, her skin damp, moist with perspiration, though still like silk to touch, you discover as you run a finger down her cheek.

"And when you look at me... with that smile. You have such a cute smile, like right now, that innocent—"

"Shut the fuck up and kiss me."

You oblige. Yujin rises to meet you. And you take her in a hungry kiss. She falls back against her pillow. You slide a hand around her thigh, gently holding it against yours. The sensation of skin on skin is electric.

"M-more. Give me more." Yujin demands, and you give her thigh a squeeze in agreement. Your hand moves to her ass, giving the swell an approving touch, caressing the skin, and kneading ever so slowly.

You watch her, in the dimness between kisses, studying her delicate expressions and tiny reactions and all the while you enjoy the feeling of her pliant flesh beneath you.

This goes on and on. The kissing. The touching. The moments of separation. When Yujin pauses and lays her head down, catching her breath. A few heartbeats pass, she opens her eyes and watches you. Languidly, she smiles and beckons you to lean closer, to hold her again and taste her sweet lips once more.

The dim, orange sunlight of early evening has long since faded. A soft, blue light envelops her bedroom. As the minutes passed and the two of you enjoyed each other's touch, Yujin never stopped. Never stopped her hand buried between her thighs. And this time your kiss broke by the jolt of her head, thrown back into the pillow. Her neck is at full stretch and her lips agape.

No moans come from her mouth. Instead, her breath hitches and holds. She freezes like this, under the moonlight piercing between the curtains. Reflecting from her skin. An image of pure beauty. Unadulterated pleasure.

Her eyes remain shut, but a beaming smile grows.

Finally, she sighs deeply and lets out her last shuddering, shaky breaths. She rises again and searches your eyes with her half-open ones and smiles once more.

"That was perfect," she murmurs, satisfied, as she lolls back into the pillow and rubs her hand—the hand covered with her cum—over her heaving, sweat-slicked chest.

You can only admire as she rubs her hand over her tits, smearing them with a mixture of cum and sweat. And when she's done, she lets her hand fall beside her head, the other resting on your shoulder.

"What are you thinking?" Her question came slowly, her speech still languid.

"How amazing you are."

Yujin smirks before stretching, arching her back from the bed, thrusting her tits at you. "You've probably thought that a lot." She's hot, and she knows it. "Anything else? With me here like this?"

"Your body is better than I imagined. Perfect."

Yujin brings a hand up to cup her tit, as if offering them up for you. "Glad you think so." The next word was a demand, "Taste."

Her chin tilts down and her gaze lifts. Her eyes watch curiously as your head dives to her chest. The most overpowering thing is the smell. The combination of her rich perfume and the scent of sex.

"That's it. Let me guide you." Yujin reaches round, holds the back of your head, and pushes your lips on her nipple. She giggles as you suck greedily, nibbling at her and lavishing her flesh in sloppy adoration. Yujin's skin glows a hue you'd never seen before. And tastes a taste so sickly sweet that you swear is so addicting that as a second becomes a minute, your tongue would never tire.

"Good." Her voice is soft and doting, but her breath catches for a brief instant as you roll your tongue over the swollen peak, drawing a tighter grip on your head. Her hands bury into your hair, her nails against the scalp. She pulls at you, guiding your tongue across her chest.

Yujin whines. And for all the sounds that you've heard today, there is none so sweet, nor one that cuts so deep as when she pulls you away. "God, I feel so sexy now."

Yujin lets her leg rub up to yours. Gyrating gently and grinding your thigh with hers, she works herself closer. Then her legs curl, capturing you and holding you. Yujin raises up so her face is millimetres away, whispering into your lips, "You don't even know what a turn-on you are right now."

She guides your hand with her own, down between her thighs. And she rubs your fingers up against her slippery opening. "Feel that? That's for you, and I can't wait any longer." Her eyes fall closed and her forehead rests against yours.

"I want to fuck you, Yujin."

"We aren't going to fuck." She punctuates each word separately but speaks without anger. Her tone is honey. It's dripping with lust despite the coldness of the words. "But I am going to let you cum now."

Her hand leaves your own, leaving your fingers pressed against her cunt. Both her hands now. Both against your body, rubbing at your chest and working their way down. Yujin's got a devilish, vapid expression. An insufferable confidence.

"And maybe this is selfish, but," Yujin grins wickedly as her hand takes a fistful of cock. "I'm also going to get off to watching you blow a load."

Her thumb, smeared in her arousal, rolls and drags. It's a wicked gesture that plays you like a marionette. Yujin draws her wet thumb up your length. The pressure and tension are enough to bring your breath hitching.

"It'll be huge." You lean into the feeling and whisper hotly. The heat building between the two of you is dizzying. She wraps her fingers around the base of your cock and squeezes firmly, jerking her hand up to the head.

"Good." The word escapes her parted lips as she takes the first full stroke. And then she doesn't stop. Her fingers tighten and the movement is repeated, finding a quick rhythm that you follow along to.

"Touch me," Yujin orders again. She looks down between your bodies, the tangle of arms, where she strokes your cock rhythmically. Using her other hand on your wrist to push you into her. Two fingers. That's what you give, gently stroking down along her cunt. Two fingers inside and curling up slowly inside her. Your hand pressing against her cunt, palm rocking against her clit. "Keep doing that."

You follow along. Obeying her directions and fulfilling her commands, making short little motions between her legs. You've watched her cum once and know exactly how to bring her there again. You push further, probing deeper, massaging the hot slickness. And you must be doing it right. Her grip on your wrist slackens and her body collapses back into the silk.

Finally, she fully focuses on you. Her hands work your cock. Up, down. Smooth, measured, fluid strokes. Unsurprisingly, she's perfect, each action purposeful, coordinated, and calculated. You know from the tension already winding, growing tighter and tighter, that it's a race you're destined to lose.

Yujin sighs heavily. Her lips remain open but her eyes grow serious. Head propped by the pillow, she's watching her handiwork. Watching the first drops of cum leak out and she palms them, taking them into her grip, making it messier as she continues to pump. Her eyes lift to watch your face as it distorts, and as you let out a groan.

"Are you close yet?" Her hand tightens. Faster. Rougher. Her fingers graze your sensitive cock, your body convulses and the involuntary reaction is a knee-jerk buck of your hips into the warmth of her hand. And her laugh follows. Delightfully warm, innocent, genuine. It fills the room and pierces through any self-conscious embarrassment. "Guess so, huh? Come on, cum. Just for me." Her thumb drags over your cock's head.

Your hands still moving, and Yujin's body beginning to quiver. With her orgasm fast approaching, she's determined to make you finish first. Her other hand has a hold on your balls, encouraging them to let loose.

Your lungs hurt from the shallow gasps and a sick knot forms in the pit of your stomach. A tingling buzzing and a throbbing that overcomes everything, wiping the thoughts from your mind. Only her eyes. Yujin's warm, hazel, angelic eyes are what remains. They stare with determination, urging you on.

She knows. You know. You can't hold it anymore. Your body isn't yours anymore, it responds to Yujin, and when she grins, you have no power. Yujin's in control, the only words in your mind. "Cum. Cum all over."

"Ugh, fuck..." is all the warning that you can manage. Her grin widens into a malicious smile and her hand becomes a vice. You can barely breathe; a dull buzzing rings in your ears. Your vision is a blur. All-consuming pleasure blinds. You buck into her hand and feel the thick ropes of cum leave. Firing onto her toned stomach. On to her tits. Wherever her hand directs you.

"Wow, really came hard," Yujin grins teasingly at her messy hands.

Breathing is easier now, and the rush, though it fades, lingers still in every inch of you. And as feeling comes back, as your mind clears, you realise your own hand never stopped. You're still mindlessly fucking her with your fingers. Still making Yujin writhe and moan. She's so warm. Wet.

"Fu-ck. Ke-eep doing... that." Her legs pull at you, forcing your body on top of hers. You respond in your movements, curling your fingers into her and slamming them harder. Your palm hits her cunt every time with a slap.

She's got a hand on her tit, squeezing the cum-covered mounds, her hand sliding around in the sticky mess. It's spreading—the mess, all over her tits—and she's using it for pleasure. It glistens in the soft blue moonlight, catching your eyes.

"I-m..." Yujin starts, then gasping a sharp intake of breath, then more noises, stunted. This goes on until, finally, she takes one slow, heavy, deep breath, filling her chest and holding it there. Her eyes are glassy as if she's not looking through them. And she's still gripping your sensitive cock, hand covered in cum. You groan softly as her hand rubs the last few drops out.

She cums again. She tried to warn you, but this time she's nothing but moans. Erupting from her. Rough. Deep. Coming from within. She gushes. Wetness coats your fingers. Her cunt overflows and runs out onto your hand. A mess of her cum on you, a mess of your cum on her. You watch her breathing as the final few gasps leave her, slowly returning to a steady, even rhythm.

Yujin is breathless. "W-wow..."

You kiss her cheek gently. Your body finds its place beside hers. "Fuck me, Yujin," you exhale.

Yujin's breathing is slow and even, a smile beaming, radiating that warm glow that is her. She takes a deep breath in, then lets it out again.

"No." There's not an iota of sympathy.

You let out an audible sigh, but Yujin holds her finger up. "No sex tonight," she corrects herself, before pushing on your shoulder, rolling you over until she sits atop you.

Her lithe, cum-covered body presses down upon you. Her hips against your spent dick. She leans back, straightening her torso. She barely weighs a thing. Her body is as light as a feather. Yujin gives an innocent look, smiling but avoiding the eyes, but after a moment her smile turns coy, even teasing. She runs a hand over her body and pulls it away, strings of sticky cum stretching from her fingers to her stomach.

"I need a shower." She runs her eyes over your body. "We need a shower."

"Or we can continue..." you speak as you run a hand up her thigh.

Yujin moans in response, and she closes her eyes at the contact. A tremble wracks her for a moment, until her eyes snap open. "No." She pulls back and pushes off you. "Come. Let's shower."

She's standing beside the bed, and you admire her. "You look gorgeous." The words float in the air, and Yujin lets a soft, barely visible blush form. She takes it well; you would've thought she'd dismiss the words, but she smiles warmly.

"Come on." Her finger beckons you.

You follow and don't take your eyes off her. And why should you? Her body is so enchanting, swaying her hips from side to side in her lustful saunter. Her ass and shoulders roll in sync perfectly.

***

Hot water and steam. One runs down your body and the other fills the air. Not thick enough to block your sight but still veiling everything in a white, blurry mist, just enough to muffle the sound, enough to add something in the background.

"Mm..." Yujin murmurs as you rub her back. A luxurious bar of soap. You lather your hands and work it across her body. Underneath her arms. You guide your slippery hands to her sides, lifting and moving with them as they run along her stomach. You tickle gently above her hip bones, smiling at her small reaction—how her hips roll away instinctively.

"So, what happens now?" you ask. Yujin had been completely quiet during the shower. But you can't help but think that you need to address what just happened, what could happen.

"Well, I could bend over right now, right?" Her voice is bubbly, still in a post-orgasmic high.

You chuckle. "But you won't."

"But I won't," Yujin confirms. "I haven't decided yet."

"That's ominous."

Yujin closes her eyes. "Not like I'm the only girl who you're fooling around with."

"So you want it to be exclusive?"

"No." Yujin takes the soap and turns to face you, rubbing it over your chest.

"You're a hot guy, with a nice cock," Yujin's eyelids fall half-closed and her lips spread to show her tongue running over the corner of her mouth, and with the faintest shrug, and adds: "We both know I could have my way with you anytime I want."

Yujin moves past you towards the jet of running hot water. She bows her head under it and lets it rinse off the foam. The suds flow down her body. The streams turn to rivers. Bouncing, trickling, coursing between her supple breasts, down her narrow waist, over her toned stomach, then along her long legs. She takes a second longer than necessary, basking in the spray and enjoying the sensation, and the visual she knows she creates for you.

She reaches out and pulls you under, body against body. She brings her mouth to your ear. "But no one can find out. That would cause you a lot of problems." Her hands grip you tightly as if to emphasise the seriousness. And while her tone remains jovial, there is an underlying sternness.

"What do you mean? What would happen?"

"The position my dad is in, we can't afford to have this come out. He would have you out of the school and out of my life in an instant." Her voice lowers, almost a growl, but there's amusement in it. Her smile widens as she looks you in the eye. "But that won't happen, will it? We'll make sure of that."

"No, won't happen."

"And while we're on the topic..." Yujin grabs at your crotch, stunning you. "If you're gonna keep fucking Wonyoung, you might want to do a better job of hiding that. It'll end the same way."

"Y-you don't mind if I fuck Wonyoung?"

"Please, I encourage it." Yujin wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and pulls you in closer. You move your arms to hold her back. Skin on skin. Her breaths are hot, and steamy. She whispers the next few words, drawing out every syllable, each sound heavy with meaning.

"I..." You lose what words you want to say, flustered by her open, unexpected, and totally cool, reaction.

"Why would I? It's hot as fuck." Her lips brush over your cheeks, ghosting over the skin with a soft, supple touch. "And I know she won't fuck as good as I will."

NEXT PART HERE

[unclewaynemunson]

"What. The. Fuck."

Over years of living in a trailer park, Eddie has seen his fair share of weird shit. But this right here? This surpasses everything.

Wayne is sitting on the couch in the living room, with an actual baby in his lap and a completely deadpan expression on his face like this is something that happens every day.

"Hey, Ed. Meet Sasha Munson."

"Sasha Munson?" Eddie repeats, hoping that saying the name out loud will make this whole thing less surreal. It doesn't, so he automatically switches right into disbelieving panic mode instead. "Sasha Munson?! What the fuck? She isn't mine, I promise, it's literally impossible, someone must've - Wait, hold on - Is she yours? Aren't you like fifty years too old to knock someone up? What the fuck did you do? Who's the mother? What were you thinking, man, we can't take care of a -"

"Eddie, sit down."

"No, I'm not sitting down, this is ridiculous, what the fucking fuck, we can't -"

"She ain't mine and she ain't yours."

"What the-" It takes a few seconds before Wayne's words sink in. Then, Eddie freezes mid-sentence, giving his brain a second or two to catch up to what Wayne just said.

"Wait, what?" he asks.

He gives the sleeping baby a distrustful look. It's small - too small to be a human, if you asks Eddie. It scares him a little bit.

"Then whose is she?"

"I told ya to sit down, Ed."

And Wayne's voice is so strict and serious that Eddie can only obey.

"Your dad was here earlier."

Those few words are enough to tell Eddie exactly what happened. He immediately feels sick to his stomach. He wants to cover his ears, or walk out of the trailer and never come back. But instead, he keeps sitting, frozen in his chair, and listens to what Wayne tells him.

"Sasha is his daughter. He had this girlfriend, Melody, 'bout a year ago. She's much younger than him, is all I know 'bout her. I think they were kinda serious at the time. But Clyde went and messed it up, of course. Cheated on her. She dumped him. Then showed up again a few weeks later all sobered up and told him she was pregnant. Far as I know, things went okay for a while after that. But she caved right after she gave birth. It took a toll on her, Clyde said. So she needed the drugs again. He left her; he didn't see a way to help her and he was worried 'bout Sasha's safety. So he took Sasha with him and brought her to me. Said he couldn't take care of a baby and that was that."

It is a story eerily similar to what Wayne told Eddie about his own early years, whenever he'd ask him questions about his parents.

Eddie looks at the tiny human in Wayne's arms. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is just slightly agape. She's wrapped in a blanket that has a soft shade of pink, with tiny elephants printed across it.

"He never learns, does he?" Eddie remarks with a sigh.

"He doesn't," Wayne affirms in a soft voice, shaking his head. "But you know what, if these are the consequences of his actions..." He first looks up at Eddie, then down at the baby in his lap again. "I can't even be too mad at him for it."

"Jesus Christ, what a mess."

"Don't think too badly of him, Ed," Wayne says. "He wanted to help them. Both of 'em. But he didn't know how. He did what he thought was gonna be best for Sasha. Just like he did with you. He ain't evil. Just a coward who makes bad decisions."

Eddie swallows thickly.

"We'll make it work," Wayne says with certainty in his voice. "It'll be tight, but we'll survive. We did it before, we can do it again."

Eddie nods.

"You wanna hold her?"

He shifts uneasily. She seems so fragile. He doesn't know a single thing about babies; he is his father's son, after all, not Wayne's, no matter how much he wishes he were.

"C'mon, Ed, she's your sister."

It's only now that Eddie notices how well it fits, Wayne with a baby in his arms. Like he was made to be a father. Like Sasha belongs there. There aren't any pictures of Eddie as a baby, as far as he knows, but he imagines it must've looked somewhat like this scene: the exact same couch, a different blanket, and a younger version of Wayne. One with less wrinkles and more hair; less worn-out by the sorrows Eddie has given him over the years. It's simple for Wayne, in a way it isn't for Eddie's father, and in a way that Eddie fears it won't be for him. To hold her gently and let her sleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat. To sit with her quietly and do nothing else. To give love and patience without expecting anything in return.

Eddie rises from his chair and sits down next to Wayne on the couch. He utters a shaky breath, trying not to show his nerves, and wipes his sweaty hands over his jeans before holding out his arms.

“Just like that,” says Wayne softly while he places Sasha in Eddie's arms.

She's warm and has that specific newborn baby scent clinging around her. She's heavier than Eddie expected. She stirs a little bit and makes a tiny sound, but then she continues her peaceful sleep. He studies her: her closed eyes, her tiny nose, the way her head rolls around helplessly if he doesn't support her steadily enough; the hand that's hanging out of the blanket, with minuscule but fully developed fingers that grab around nothing. He listens to the steady sound of her breathing and imagines the tiny lungs inside her body working on pure instinct to keep her alive. His sister.

He looks up and finds Wayne staring at the two of them with tears in his eyes. He only catches Eddie's gaze for a fraction of a second, then he looks away, to the window on his right side.

“You're wrong, you know,” Eddie says.

Wayne turns his head back to him.

“Bout what?”

“She isn't his. Neither am I.” He looks up from the girl in his hands to meet Wayne's eyes. “We're both yours. He didn't do jackshit for us, just dropped us here with you and ran away. You're the one who raised me, Uncle Wayne, and that makes me yours way more than his. And Sasha? We're both gonna be here for her, every step of the way. We're gonna change her diapers and feed her milk - I don't really know anything else about babies, but we're gonna do all of that, together. We're gonna see her grow up and become a person. She's ours.”

Wayne produces a noise that sounds somewhat like a choked-off sob. He puts an arm around Eddie and drags him closer towards him. He doesn't say anything, but Eddie didn't expect him to. He understands.

[aphrmoosun]

MASTERLIST

Fandoms. POTA, KOTPOTA, HOTD, GOT, ETC.

[Kingdom of the] planet of the apes

NOMAE.

No words. [Two-shot]

Apes and humans lived in peace for more than half a century, the war only brought internal conflicts between the sides and although peace was the later consequence, they finally lived together and peacefully.

But it was still not well seen that humans and apes had relationships, each one lived in their area, both separated by borders and policies.

Noa son of the leader of the eagle clan. And Mae daughter of an important senator. Ape and human had set their eyes on each other, unable to ignore the other’s presence when they saw each other. The tension between the two ends in a nighttime escapade with consequences for the future.

Noa and the beast. [One-shot]

Noa is the new leader of the clan, his responsibility was to his own. But an Echo enters their lives and they decide to kill her due to the ancient writings that defined her as dangerous. But when Noa has her in front of him, his world changes completely…

You & Me. [Fanfic]

“Mae embarks on a mission to try to shed a ray of light on humanity in the face of the apes. Regardless of who stood in her way, she had to carry out this mission.

But although her mind constantly grappled with good and evil, her heart always leaned towards a certain ape who seemed not to be indifferent to her.

Attachment, sympathy, empathy, affection, or even love. These were not emotions she had learned to give to her enemy, but he always stood in her way and through his actions once again showed her that Noa was far from being classified as an enemy.

To a certain extent, she had to choose between her humanity and those feelings that interfered with her mission.”

House of the dragon

HELAEGON.

An heir. [One shot]

Aegon and Helaena have just lost their first son, the heir and after days of trying to breathe or eat to continue their lives, Helaena starts having those dreams again now seeing a new baby body in her arms. But how could they have another son if they haven't spoken for days.

HELAEMOND.

The Shadow of Passion. [Fanfic]

Helaena accidentally overhears a conversation between her two brothers right after her engagement to Aegon is announced and decides it's time to teach them a lesson. One that she would learn through a forbidden book called "The Shadow of Passion" and with which she would take practical classes with her younger brother.

His Queen and Goddess. [One-shot X Aegon]

Aemond takes everything that belongs to Aegon when he becomes King Regent, including Queen Helaena Targaryen. As revenge, Aemond fucks the queen in front of the king and in a position that Aegon had previously mocked him for in a brothel. However, the queen would always see the good side of the king, and he would eventually join them in the only way he could, with his mouth.

King Regent and the Queen [one shot]

Aemond had taken his brother's place, before the court as king regent, and he stood before his now throne, where he received the visit of the queen, the only one he needed to take as king now.

JACELAENA.

The Green Queen. [Fanfic]

Helaena returns to a point in her life where she can change everything she had lived, questioning whether to leave behind the bad but also the good she had experienced. Alongside her, she finds allies she didn't think she had, but most importantly, an old feeling is reborn between her and her nephew Jacaerys.

Puedes encontrar también los fanfics en español en mis perfiles.

AO3 | Wattpad 

[ja3yun]

how would jaeyun but especially sunghoon react to finding out she sold her soul to let him stay with her??

sunghoon would be furious, like absolutely livid! not one part of him would understand why on earth you would do that for him considering he is, at the end of the day, a demon. He's still processing his newfound humanity so he would be fighting his demon and pushing it down because he knows heeseung will play with you and make you do things you'll regret

jaeyun would overhear you and hoon having an argument about it and thus, he would find out about everything; the brothers, his past, how he was meant to be your guardian angel. I think because he is so pure at heart, he would be upset but he would know exactly why your heart lead you to dp what you did, though he would feel anger for the first time so he might not know how to process it. Unlike Sunghoon's anger being directed at you and Heeseung, his would be directed at the situation because he wished he could have protected you.

i wrote a little something to describe the scene!

“You did what?” Sunghoon’s voice bounces between your bedroom walls as you place your phone into your tote bag.

Honestly, you hadn’t meant for Sunghoon to find out that you had made the deal with Heeseung, at least not this way.

Heeseung had called you, angry that you still haven’t come to the mansion after asking you multiple times. You will be the first to admit that selling yourself to him seemed like a great idea at the time, and even as you’re looking into Sunghoon’s eyes now you don’t regret it. However, you’re scared to face the consequences of your action, aka, meet Heeseung again.

What if he made you do something inhumane like kill an innocent person or rob a bank? What if he wanted to see you so he could take you on his bed and ruin you. One of those seems like a better option than the other, but your guilty conscience either as a murder or adulterer wouldn’t let you live happily.

Screaming down the phone, Heeseung could be heard through the speaker and unluckily, Sunghoon was standing right behind you as Heeseung exclaimed “I own you, so of you don’t come here right now i’ll tear that soul from your pretty little meat suit and give you to lucifer as a play pet.”

So now, as you gather your things for the long journey, Sunghoon stands between you and the door.

“Y/N, tell me I didn’t hear that right,” Sunghoon pleads, the red from his fury subsiding slightly.

“Look, I did what I had to do okay?” you say with a sigh, knowing you have had this conversation in your head numerous times so you’re bored of explaining it.

Sunghoon hasn’t had the conversation though, so he’s riled up. “What could be so important?”

You bite your lip, looking down at your feet, not wishing to tell him the truth.

It doesn’t take long before Sunghoon pieces two and two together and his anger is mixed with disbelief. “What the fuck, Y/N?! You told me you asked Soonyeol!”

If his face could go red it would, the demon that sits deep within him is crawling to the surface, his tone low and pupils dissolved behind black. Not once have you witnessed him so livid, it would terrify you if you hadn’t stood toe-to-toe with Beelzebub a few months ago.

Shrugging the tote on your shoulder, you shake your head, “Don’t start, okay? What’s done is done.”

“Y/N-”

“Look at how happy you’ve been, Hoon. You’ve never been better and that to me is worth anything. If you asked me tomorrow to do it again for you or Jaeyun, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

The confession that leaves your lips is true, any person could see and hear it, yet, Sunghoon can’t believe it because to him, the notion is preposterous.

“Baby girl, you don’t know what Heeseung is capable of,” he strains, thinking about the rumours that pass the lips of his brothers from the underworld. You’re a tough girl, he understands that, but you aren’t fully aware of what you’ve done, the danger you have put yourself in.

There’s only one way to stop you from going out that door.

“I’ll tell Jaeyun everything.”

Halting your movements, you look at him with panicked eyes, “You wouldn’t…”

You have tried so desperately to keep Jaeyun in the dark about everything, to still keep that beautiful mind of his pure from anything evil. There’s good reason as to why Jongseong has never told him about his brothers being demons and himself a guardian angel. His heart is so beautiful that knowing anything about his past or the others could jeopardize that.

“You really want to tell him that his best friend is a demon and his girlfriend sold her soul to Heeseung, who by the way, just happens to be a Prince of Hell?” you say exasperated, your arms crossing defiantly over your chest.

“Prince of Hell?”

You and Sunghoon freeze as you hear Jaeyun’s voice drift melodically between you. Both of you slowly turn to him, eyes wide to mirror his.

The silence is so loud you feel sick with the base of it, your ears thumping as your heart picks up its pace. You are more scared of the inevitable conversation that will come from this than you are of Heeseung.

“What are you talking about, Y/N?...Sunghoon?”

And from there you have to tell him everything, offering him a reassuring hand on his thigh as he sits on the bed, listening to you and Sunghoon explain his past, his brothers, what happened with Heeseung, you divulge everything.

Jaeyun doesn’t speak for a long time, processing the lie he has been living in. This will surely change the way he looks at you all, but right now there’s only one thing he’s worried about.

You

“You sold your soul?” he asks timidly, hoping the lighter he says it, the less weight the words carry.

Nodding, you clasp his hand in yours, slotting your fingers between his as you cling to him.

A scoff rings front beside you, Sunghoon making his distaste for the situation all too evident. “You see why she’s a fucking idiot?”

“Don’t say that Sunghoon,” Jaeyun jumps to your defence, jaw tightening as he watches you be insulted, “She did this because she knew you would be happier here. Instead of bashing her, how about you thank her?”Jaeyun seethes a new side to him you didn’t know he possessed.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, frustrated because of course, he will choose your viewpoint every single time. “If she goes back there, Heeseung will play her like a fucking fiddle.”

“We can protect her,” he argues back, voice raising.

“With what? The power of friendship? Are you as stupid as she is?”

“Enough!” you shout, silencing your boys before things get heated. You know they come from good intentions but this is a situation you have gotten yourself into. You must reap what you sow.

With a heavy breath, you close your eyes and gather yourself. Determined that if this is the last time you see them, it won't end in an arguement. “I promise you, I will be fine.”

Sunghoon shakes his head, storming out of the tension filled space, swinging the bedroom door open with powerful force. Ypu glance at Jaeyun who is staring back at you, not bothering with his brother's antics.

That is until he crashes back in and throws a jacket in his direction, startling him to attention.

“You aren’t going alone, we’re coming with you. End of discussion.” Sunghoon hisses out, holding in his anger. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t fucking touch you, he will never lay a finger on you as long as i'm here."

It’s a bit late for that.

[rimunagenius]

Only Angel — K.M

❝ words : 1.5k ❞

❝ warnings : RPF!! , suggestive , body worship , jealous!Kate , fwb theme ❞ (dk if i forgot anything, if i did lmk!)

❝ rimunagenius speaks : sorry this took a literal fortnite to complete LMAO (pls idek if this good :// )…anyways i have summer school bc o my fuck ass chem teacher soooo lowk might take a while to put other stuff out but i’ll try i promise!! ❞

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

I saw this angel

I really saw an angel

Kate noticed you on the baseline at every single one of your home games. Your black and gold cheer uniform fitting you insanely perfect. Your short skirt and your form fitting top. You looked so pretty, so beautiful, so angelic, you were truly a distraction sometimes. The way you moved hypnotizing her whenever she wasn't focused on her team. 

Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see

That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me

I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth

And there's nothing I can do about it

It took about five months of dancing around the physical attraction you both had towards the other before making what was happening between you two something. You both had amazing futures set out for you, establishing yourselves in your sports. You were on track to become a professional cheerleader, NFL cheerteams already inviting you to camps. 

Kate was optimistic that she'd become a prospect in the upcoming draft. Deciding to continue to put all he focus into basketball. So why on earth were you both suddenly trying to pursue something that could be nuclear to your careers. 

Kate had been buried between your legs for the better part of an hour. "Oh my god, Kate. I love you." The initial shock in the declaration immediately set a new tone in the atmosphere that you two had spent months building up. 

Her lips paused the attack on you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips, now accepting the consequences of your own actions. "Im sorry, what?" There was no denying the cultivation of feelings you two began to nurse. There was no point in lying to herself that she didn't feel the same way. 

"Forget it, just please, don't stop." You squirmed under her gaze. Now growing increasingly uncomfortable with the look she seemed to be giving you, and now uncomfortable with the abrupt confession. 

"You know that I can't just drop basketball." She sighed, her forefingers pinching the bridge of her nose. The frustration that immediately began to build within your chest, at her action of dismissing your confession. 

"Alright, whatever. Forget about it, didn't mean it anyways." You sighed heavily, suggestively spreading your legs, signalling her to continue, foregoing any act of bashfullness and self preservation you had to give. 

"No, because we had this conversation. I need to focus on basketball right now. Not to sound rude but you're not in the picture yet. I'm pretty sure I'm not even in the picture for you're life right now." The short tone she took with you was something almost foreign. 

You didn't like the tone, rolling your eyes at her. Suddenly the small smirk you grew accustomed to in this scene, inching it's way onto her face. So over the awkwardness but totally enthralled by the way she manages to manipulate the situation to make  it seem less harsh than it really is, annoys you. She’s so good at making you forget about why you were mad at her when she has that look on her face. Chuckling softly, looking away to your left, you grabbed her blonde hair at the back of her head and shoved her head back down where you both were needing. 

The slight aggression and dominance you took elicited a gravel moan from the depths of her throat. The reverberation could be felt everywhere. You guys just couldn't help but feel the way you felt for each other. 

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door

I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor

Couldn't you take home to mother in a skirt that short

But I think that's what I like about it

Kate didn't know what it was but the feeling brewing in her chest from the sight of you with another girl had her on a whole new level. You guys never put a label on what it was between the both of you. You guys just had a common ground.

Thats why she didn't know why she was pounding the living shit our of your door at two in the morning. Team outing at a local bar in Iowa City, invite extended to you from your mutual friends, turned into you leaving with another girl. She was your friend, deciding you were tired of your shoes, opting to go home and drink your own beer without people bothering you and asking if you two were single. Seemed like the most optimal solution. Until you realized that the pounding on your door signaled you forgot to tell Kate. 

Kate had felt the anger and anxiety build up in her the longer her fist repeatedly connected with the wooden door of your apartment. The dread of finding another girl in the apartment where she thought only you two seemed to find yourself in more often then not was unsettling. Mainly because she thought this was going somewhere but you just called it casual. She had you. 

"Jesus Christ, Kate. It's two in the morning, what the fuck are you doing?" You looked at her perplexed, the cold breeze hitting you from the hallway. You wrapped your arms around yourself, the crop top and the short sleep shorts you made yourself comfortable in now suddenly sounding like the worst idea. 

"Who did you leave with?" Is she fucking serious right now? You looked at her like she had suddenly grown two more heads. 

"Are you serious? That's why you came banging on my door at two in the fucking morning? Because you wanted to know who I left the bar with?" The animosity in your voice growing as she continued to keep the straight face she had since you opened the door, but moved on her feet in anticipation. 

"Yeah. Was she a friend or...?" You genuinely laughed at the way she was acting. Two nights ago you had confessed that you loved her accidentally, but truthfully, and all she could say was you weren't what she envisioned herself with in the future. Atleast not yet. So you both decided to continue doing what you have been for the last two months. 

"Like you care?" You scoffed, walking away from the door, letting her in. She closed the door behind her, kicking her shoes off, and hanging her jacket up on the hook next to yours. You walked through the whole apartment, knowing she’d follow. She did. You didn't say a single thing but just look at her while she saw no girl had been in your apartment. 

"She was my friend, Kate. She was in one of my classes and we came here for and she only stayed for like twenty minutes before she walked to her floor." You now stood in the middle of your room, a room Kate had been all too familiar with. 

"That's it?" Kate's brows raised, her body inching closer to yours. 

"Yes. I'm not easy you know." You rolled her eyes, unintentionally getting a rise out of Kate. For some reason she seemed to like when you had an attitude with her. "Don't even think about it, Kate." You looked at her, the knowing gaze her eyes held that your eyes were trained to remember. 

"Why not? You’re always easy for me." Her voice dropping and becoming faint as she slowly reached one hand to your waist. She knew you’d let her have her way. You always did. You were just equally as dirty and needy for Kate as she was for you. She couldn’t take you anywhere…she loved it. She got to have you in private any way she wanted.

"You're seriously asking that after you just stormed into my apartment thinking I was sleeping with another woman when that wasn't the deal we made. The lack of boundaries you seem to have." You sighed as her other hand connected with your waist, pulling you into her chest while her lips started their attack on your neck. 

"Mhm." She hummed softly, planting an open mouthed kiss right below your ear. 

"Kate, are you serious?" You were genuinely shocked that she just forewent her previous accusation against you, and suddenly thinks she'll get lucky tonight. It was slowly working, dammit.

"Why are you still talking, baby?" Her hands on your waist slipped underneath the hem of your crop top, her cold, ringclad fingers, slowly traveling the familiar path that brought her so much pleasure. Her eyes now looking into yours, she smiled before looking at your lips. 

Who were you to resist her when she looked this good? You probably should have but there was no going back after you connected your lips. It didn't take more than two seconds to have her slowly backing you up against the side of your bed, making you fall onto your back. 

You inched your way towards the headboard, you resting neatly on the pillows as you watched her discard her shirt. She got onto the bed, working her way from you bare legs, all the way up your stomach. The way she crawled slowly above you, ravishing you before she intended to tear you apart was so sultry and almost cinematic that you couldn't even breathe. 

Later on, the talk needed to be had. You both would have to unanimously decide to commit to one another. There was nothing casual about the way her lips traveled to every part of your body, with small chants of appraisal leaving her lips, ghosting your skin with goosebumps in their wake...nothing casual about it. 

"You're like an actual angel, baby. Can't get enough of you." Her lips barely articulated the words that she desperately needed to get off her chest, as they tried to kiss you everywhere all at once. You almost didn't catch it when she kissed up the apex of your thighs, mumbling 'mine' over and over again. 

In her eyes, you were literally an angel, needing to be worshipped.

She's an angel

My only angel

[spacerockfloater]

“Ha! Alicent finally understands what patriarchy is! She supported a misogynistic system and now she’s facing the consequences of her actions! She made her bed, now she has to lie in it! She really thought the leopards wouldn’t eat her face!”

Except that Alicent:

was one of the first victims of patriarchy in this show so she very much always understood how fucked up it is.

was the only one to advocate for her friend’s right to rule even when Rhaenyra’s own father doubted his decision to make her his heir.

was the only person to suggest that Driftmark should pass on to Baela.

did not go to war against Rhaenyra because she thought women couldn’t rule. She did it because she wanted to protect her family after her former friend got her father fired, took her son’s eye, demanded he be tortured despite being her kid brother and because she genuinely believed that Aegon II becoming king was her husband’s dying wish.

This is the “hypocrisy” bullshit all over again and I just have to say that those who genuinely believe such analyses are illiterate.

[sweetnans]

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K. (pt.6)

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 -> Pt.7 ♡

m.list

Bakugo was kinda fun to be around with. He actually made you laugh and not because of his faces every time you blurted the most unhinged question for him. He made you laugh verbally, with his own words, and the sentence wasn't one full of hate and despise. He was, without wanting it, fun.

For you, it fell like a truce, and the thought of being friends with him didn't scare you anymore. The second thoughts and plans of getting rid of him just by ignoring him disappeared along with the security that he was going to try something with you. He didn't.

You felt lightweight. Like a feather being carried with the breeze. Or that was Denki told you when you tried to verbalize what you felt. There was no weight on your shoulders anymore trying to dodge every bullet Bakugo threw at you just by being himself. You were walking on eggshells, and now it felt amazing that you weren't feeling distraught by just thinking of bumping into him in the hallways.

Somehow, that relieved your anxiety of having an upcoming date with Todoroki. You were planning on what to wear very calmly with Jirou's help and fantasizing how it would be.

You've made your peace.

Back in your real life, outside the mess of your head, you had to complete your homework and study for midterms. So you were genuinely happy that you could accomplish that without feeling so rachet about yourself.

"Is college more difficult than school?" Eri asked while you two were both doing your school/college chores in Aizawa's apartment.

"I don't know. I think you have to find a steady pace and find a good method to study, and everything should be fine. " You hummed your response, and she squinted at you. "What?"

"But you're like a genius, that doesn't count"

Eri had entered the age where she hated school. The rebellious phase for every teenager. She was still a cute girl who didn't give Aizawa any problem, but that didn't mean that it was easy trying to get her to do her homework.

"Well, you have brains too," you shrugged. "I know you don't like to do this stuff but at least we can spend some time together, like old times"

You loved her with your entire soul, and she welcomed you with open arms when Aizawa introduced you two. You both treated each other like sisters.

"Yeah, I think you're right." She smiled and directed her eyes to her assigment. "You've been kinda missing lately"

"It's been messy, not going to lie about it," you continued your writing while she was fidgeting with her pen.

"A boy, right?" She raised her eyebrow and smirked.

"What?" You dropped your pencil and looked at her nervously. You knew that Eri was very prone to hearing things without meaning it, and that was because Aizawa and Hizashi usually forgot that she's around when they speak things about college.

"I heard Aizawa talking to...I can't remember actually who, but he said something about a guy named Bakugo. I think I remember him, a loudly blonde guy with a grumpy face"

The thing about you two is that you always shared secrets. She constantly overheard things and never stuttered on telling or asking you whatever the topic was.

You constantly forgot how she was there before you. Like you were the older and you acted like an older sister for her but it was really weird that she, when she was little, used to be around them most of the time. You knew the war provoked that the grown-ups had to take their time to fix the world, so they asked students to babysit her. Mirio, one of the oldest, always stayed around. Even now, he made sure to have time to take her out. They went to amusement parks together, to the movies, to the arcade. Mirio had a busy life as a hero but never forgot his roots.

"Uhm, I don't know exactly what you heard, but it's just a friendship, nothing romantic, I swear." You were afraid that she had heard something about the one night stand you had with him, but you knew that even if Aizawa was oblivious about Eri eavesdropping, he would never share that piece of information with anyone.

"I don't mind. Your last boyfriend was a jackass so the set bar is pretty low." She said, waving her hand mindlessly.

With the teen years and rebellious age, as you can tell, she became savage.

"Accurately rude," you stated. "Anyways, just so you know and because I love you, I'm having a date this friday with the son of Endeavor"

The way she looked at you like you were joking made you cackle. You nodded, reaffirming your sentence, and she denied not believing you.

"The guy with the mismatched eyes?" You moved your head up and down, and she put both of her hands in her mouth. "He is cute"

"I know!" You giggled while she quickly closed her books.

"I need to know everything"

Aizawa scolded both of you for not finishing your chores before dinner but it was totally worth it.

...

On the other hand, Bakugo was still reminiscing the moment you appeared in his room the day before. His bento, clean and empty, was forgotten in his desk while he could still pictured you spinning in his chair.

The moment he watched you disappear, running after Todoroki was a decisive point in his mind. He only knew two emotions when it came to you, utterly giddy feelings that he didn't know he had, and that made him feel in constant denial and the second one, rage. Those feelings evolved in things more complicated. Rage evolved in stubbornness, prideful and insecurity. Why wasn't he good enough?

But then, you turned the things in your favor again, and he felt, aside from happy, vulnerable. Was that the only thing it took to have him back? A few 'I'm sorry' and a bag of cookies? If it was anyone, he would close the door at their nose, but it was you, and he couldn't help feeling the sincerity in your actions.

"What do you think about her?" Bakugo asked Denki, who was very busy trying to win a race in Mario Kart against Sero.

They were hanging in his room. After all, it was the only place available for stuff them all without annoying anyone. Sero and Denki were challenging themselves on Mario Kart, Kirishima was reading a sports magazine, and Mina was painting her nails.

"She is my best friend. I mean, aside from Jirou, " he answered, calculating a drift and avoiding a banana peel.

"Isn't she your girlfriend?" Sero chimed in, stumbling in the banana peel that Denki avoided before. "Oh man," he whined, seeing how toad twirled many times.

Mina started talking about you, how you seemed very nice but a little shy and how she was pretending to invite you for a drink or five. Bakugo's friend knew how he was, so he didn't mind asking about you with all of them there.

"Yep, but she's also my best friend. Anyway, forget about Jirou. " he turned the conversation about you again. "She's a very good friend, loyal. She's very attached to her past, but I don't blame her. She stays in between Jirou and me, like she's goofy funny and likes to throw silly jokes, but unlike me, she can ground herself very quickly, she doesn't need a Jirou to stay put. She's always supportive, and I'm really happy to have her"

Denki meant every word he said. He was very fond of you because you were so easy to be with. You didn't judge him for his lack of intellectual (academically) it was actually the opposite. Every time he felt down, you were the first one cheering him up and highlighting some other qualities he had.

"That's very manly bro" Kirishima threw both of his thumbs up with a big smile plastered on his face, completely forgetting he had a magazine on his hands.

"I really hope that you talk about me like that too, bunch of assholes!" Mina mumbled.

"Nah, we mostly talk about your lack of reasoning when you decide to wear animal print. That's so last decade!" Sero joked.

"You son of a bitch!" Mina yelled throwing him a pillow who ended up being one of the many reasons he lost in the race. "Haha, you deserved that loser." She stuck her tongue out, and Sero mimicked her.

"Please don't tear up my fucking room" Bakugo scolded them and they returned to their activities.

"Also, about Mina saying she's shy, she's not... she's chaotic in a way that no one expects her to be. You always see her so composed, but she's an entire other person once she's in his comfort zone. " Denki laughed at a memory that came back to his mind from one of the nights you two went out.

The last sentence of Denki had him motivated. He didn't need an excuse when it came to you, but he was eager and stubborn, and he needed to see with his own eyes that hidden part of you.

He knew exactly what he had to do.

...

You made your way back to your room when the sun was far from down. Eri and you turned the study session into a pancake dinner day. Save to say that Aizawa's white roof would never be white again unless he put all his soul to clean the stains of the batter away.

Rubbing your eyes because of the lack of sleep, you entered your building and walking like a zombie to your floor. You were happy to be alone. Jirou sent you a message that she would be staying at Denki's room for the night and you could never be happier. You were tired in a way that was draining your soul. Midterms were coming like a wave ready to crash adding the past event in your life that wreck the normality of it. But now, you had studied all the afternoon, you sure would have a good night of sleep and the Bakugo topic was more than solved.

Everything was making sense again. Oh and don't forget your upcoming date.

You let yourself breathe again and expand the capacity of your lungs like you were inhaling oxygen for the first time. It felt actually nice, it was like rebooting yourself just by doing so mundane like breathing.

"About time"

Nevermind.

Bakugo stood beside your room door looking hot as ever. He was wearing a black hoodie with his cap on, a matching jogger in his lower part.

"What are you doing here?" you whispered. It was late and there wasn't a soul around.

"I was running and decided to check on you" he shrugged when you stood in front of him squinting your eyes in disbelief. "Fine, there's one lie and one truth in that sentence"

You crossed your arms on top of your chest and he couldn't help eyeing your neckline.

"The truth is that I was running" he smirked and you rolled your eyes trying to hide your smile. Damn bastard. "Are we going to talk here? on the hallway?"

Taking the keys out of your pocket you reached to put them inside the lock, turning the knob after. Switching the lights, you dropped your bag in your desk and sat in your bed exhaling and laying yourself on top of the duvet.

"Did you bring food?" you asked to say something. Your stomach was full of pancakes but the thought of his cooking had you almost drooling.

"Nah, I have a proposal for you and if you say yes maybe and just maybe I'll reward you with a dish"

A proposal? You pushed your body up ready to read him. Was he joking? Maybe it was just like when he asked you to be friends or maybe it was something worse, like breaking his promise. You knew that accepting his friendship would have its perks, like the possibility of him trying to get under your pants. You were making mental jumps because of it. You knew very well the men like him, cocky, unreachable with superiority complex.

"It's not what you think" he huffed annoyed. "I'm not going to start an argument because of your lack of trust"

If you thought that you could read him, you were wrong and the worst part is that he could do that to you instead. Were you that transparent?

"I'm listening" you said trying to maintain your face neutral.

The vibe in the room changed, there wasn't that fun and easy-going atmosphere anymore. You were expecting the most mischievous proposal but instead, you were surprised when he opened his mouth.

"My mom is hosting a party and she's making me go with a plus one. I invited everyone but they all have plans. If I show up by myself she's going to be the death of me for the entire night" he murmured loud enough for you to hear. It seemed that just by saying that he was losing at least half of his pride.

"So you want me to go with you..." you stated the obvious.

"You're my last resource, don't let the invitation get over your head" he said breaking eye contact with you and rumaging through your stuff.

"Oh you do know how to make a girl feel special" you said sarcastically.

Laying down, you went back to your positions now, instead of just resting, thinking. The truth was that after imagining the worst case scenario you couldn't come with an excuse good enough to said no to him.

"What's the dress code?" you asked watching at your roof. You heard how he was picking every stuff from your desk as well as you did with his stuff on his room.

"Don't worry about it, I have something for you to wear" he answered nonchalantly

Of course he has. You said under your breath in exasperation. Now you were actually caged. There was no opportunity of saying no.

"Fine" you hummed in response.

Bakugo felt like his heart was about to explode. When he asked Denki about you and came with that idea he was expecting that you would be hard to crack. He had at least three different forms of convincing you to go to the party with him. He didn't use one.

"I'm going to pick you up tomorrow at six, be ready by that. I'll send the dress first thing in the morning"

He was finding hard to keep his neutral facade with you, like he wasn't excited about it.

"Tomorrow!?" you exclaimed standing in a quick movement. "Are you fucking with me?"

The look on your face was between a bottle of water in the middle of the dessert and a loudly clown in a silent room. He didn't know that he needed to see you in distress until now and he was quite amused at your panicked state.

"Yeah it's nothing just a stupid party with a lot of people" he rolled his eyes acting bored.

It didn't sound like nothing to you. You knew Bakugo's parents were important in the fashion industry and now he was dropping a bomb like it wasn't going about to explode in your face.

He grabbed the knob of your door and twisted it until the door was open in front of him.

"Don't you worry, it's not like there will be the most important people of Japan" he paused and then a wicked smile appeared on his face. "Oh shit, yeah there will"

He left you dumbfounded and alone with the train of thoughts that appeared right after he closed the door. And you thought you will be having a nice night of sleep? The world was messing with you again.

In his room, hanging in the doors of his closet, Bakugo had the stunning dress he had picked that afternoon after he kicked out all of his friend out of his room. A red satin long dress with an opening in the right leg. He didn't know if you had matching shoes but he make sure of that when the assitant of the shop handed him the dress. Lacy high heels he knew you would love.

Everyone knew that Bakugo was a smart man, and being in the industry for years without wanting it made him learn things unconsciously like what size people were only by looking at them. He was sure that the dress and the shoes would fit you and, of course, make you way more gorgeous than you already were.

Your night was summed up in pacing all night. You walked through your room, you rearranged your desk three times, you even changed your bed sheets a week earlier trying to succumb the anxiety rising up from the pit of your stomach.

Well, what's done is done. You already said yes and there was no enough amount of excuse that would prevent you from going.

You've never attended a nice party before. You looked up Bakugo's parents on the internet and the sight of them smiling in a picture wearing haute couture made you shrink in your position in bed. You thought about biting your nails but then a reasonable thought appeared on your mind, there was no way that you would go to that party and meet those people with your nails all bitten.

Finally, the sun was up in the sky and you made it through the night sleeping the vast amount of four hours. You felt fresh like a rotten veggie rusting in the back of the fridge.

Just as he said, a few little knocks on your door startled you right after you opened your eyes.

"Why is Bakugo sending you this?" Denki raised his left brow while raising the dress covered in a gray bag.

No hello, no how are you's, straight to the damn point.

"Uhm, where's Jirou?" If you were going to explain yourself you'll rather doing it just once.

"She went to the bathroom, she's coming tho, what's going on?" He took a step inside of the room and left the dress on top of your dresser removing the wrinkles with his hands.

"Here I am! I took a piss almost standing with a feet inside the stall and the other outside the bathroom, what the hell is going on!?"

Curious Jirou was your absolute favorite when you weren't involved in the thing she wanted to know because you were almost sure that she was just a few seconds away of grabbing your bedside table's lamp to hold it above your eyes to interrogate you.

"Bakugo invited me to this thing of his parents because no one was able to go with him, not a big deal" you waved your hand at them like it was actually nothing when you were boiling on the inside.

"Not big deal??" She exclaimed. "I took a peak of that dress and girl, that didn't seem like not a big deal" she quoted you in the air and you walked to the dress to pry inside.

The way both of your hands rose to clap your mouth shut proved Jirou right.

A red satin dress whose fabric and lacy straps screamed money and luxury to you laid flat and still in your hand-me-down duvet.

"It also came with these" Denki appeared above your shoulder with a pair of strappy heels.

You shook your head several times in disapproval. No. When Bakugo said that he had a dress, you never expected for him to casually lend you a, you could guess, a few pairs of zero dress. And heels that would match its glamor and price.

"What are you doing?" Jirou asked Denki in a hum.

"Looking at the price of this thing" He scanned the dress with his phone and shook his head and then he scanned the heels. "The dress is nowhere to be found but the heels, oh my god, don't even touch that"

"Don't be ridiculous, I don't think is that exp-" Jirou's eyes widen, and you could swear that they were about to pop out of their sockets. "Don't touch them? More like, don't breathe near them!"

"Dial his number Denki. I need to talk to him now. " You rushed to your friend while he was taking his phone out of his jacket.

"Put him on speaker," Jirou commented side eyeing you.

After a few rings, the sound of static and him clearing his throat startled the three of you.

"If something happened to that dress I swear to god-" Bakugo gruff voice echoed in your room.

"It's not that! When you said a party, I thought you meant like a casual party, almost as a jeans and top party, not a champagne toast, chandeliers and limousines party" you freaked out.

"Oh, so you liked the dress," he said, and you could practically see the smirk plastered on his face.

"There's no way I'm going to use that. The shoes cost more than my whole tuition!"

"I don't see the problem. Besides, you're not that clumsy to tear them up in just one night. I assure you nothing is going to happen, I'm going to pick you up, help you walk, and stay by your side, taking care that no one put a damn finger on it, if that is your concern"

In his own room, he was trying to keep it cool while the mere possibility of you bailing it out made his leg tremble under his desk. This was his shot. He had accepted the weird feelings he had toward you, and now he needed to taste the waters to see if there was any chance for him.

"I'm picking you up at six. Don't be late, " he hung up.

He wouldn't give you the opportunity to leave him hanging.

Classes were slower than usual. Fortunately, you had most of them with Jirou, so if you thought that she would drop the incident of the morning, you thought wrong.

"I don't know what's on his mind, but the bright side is that you have the chance to wear a nice dress for once without having to sell your soul to the devil" she said while scribbling some notes. You raised your brow at her, and she gasped. "He's not the devil"

"Since when are you a Bakugo defender?" You asked, leaning on your head on your open hand.

"I'm not his defender is just he's just behaving like a normal human being, acting like a friend, and don't forget he ate that crap the other day, for me that's like the ultimate act of love" she exaggerated.

"I wouldn't go that far," you rolled your eyes at her. "I'm with you on that, except for the latter, but I still think that he has hidden intentions." Jirou titled her head in confusion. "He's used to getting everything he wants, and normally he does, and when I appeared and opened my mouth, everything went downhill for him"

"So you think that he's only using you? For revenge? I don't think he's that wicked. " Jirou bit the tip of his pen giving it a profound thought.

"I don't know"

And for once in your life, you didn't want to know.

The same afternoon, you were at your room with your makeup and hair done. Jirou helped you to look like a decent person, and she also helped you put on your dress without leaving any stains.

"I swear to god, this is gorgeous," she exclaimed.

You admired yourself in the mirror. The fabrics traced the shape of your body in a way that almost made you faint. Growing up in an orphanage, you never had the opportunity of dressing nice. This was the first time that you actually felt like a princess.

Three knocks on the door echoed in the room. You looked at the clock, and you still had a whole fifteen minutes before Bakugo's arrival. Maybe something happened, you wouldn't have the chance to know because you didn't have his number.

You hurried to pick up some jewelry, a pair of golden earrings with a matching necklace that lay on your desk.

"Sensei?" Jirou asked and gave a step back to let Aizawa enter the room. Aizawa looked for you, and when he caught the glimpse of you dressed to the ninens, he was utterly confused.

"What's going on?" He asked slowly.

"I'm going to a party," you said, clicking the earrings to your lobes. You had a few more piercings, so you decided to look for new ones to combine.

"With Bakugo," Jirou chimed in giggling at your death stare.

"What?" Aizawa turned from Jirou to you.

"He asked me to be his plus one to one of his parent's events, no biggie," you said, clasping the back of your necklace while the two of them were talking with glances. "It's not what you are thinking"

"What am I thinking?" He pretended not having understood.

"It's not meet the parents, I swear, I'll just go, eat some boujee shit and look pretty" you shrugged.

Aizawa nodded in acknowledgment and then smiled a bit.

"You do look pretty," he said like a proud dad. "You should send a picture to Eri"

"Why don't I take the picture of the two of you?" Jirou said, excited. "You didn't have any proms, right? This could be the replacement of family photos"

You wouldn't lie. The mere idea of it made you excited, too. You had your best friend and your father figure with you in a moment you never thought you would ever have.

"Fine, but I want you out before Bakugo arrives, I don't want the: bring her in one piece show"

"Oh, don't worry, I'm going to have a serious talk with that boy," he joked.

Or that's what you thought.

Bakugo was ready to pick you thirty minutes before the time he set, so now, he had thirty minutes to pace in his room with his tux on and a lot of thoughts running through his mind.

The palms of his hands were sweating, and he restricted himself to apply more perfume on his collar. He didn't want to provoke you a headache, but he didn't want to smell like caramel either.

He went straight to his car, and although your building was almost in front of his building, he waited in the car, blasting loud music to keep his nerves on the line.

When the clock marked six pm, he made sure to lock his car and, with big steps, made his way to your building, playing with the keys on his fingers he stepped into the elevator and clicked the third floor.

The door of your room opened at the second knock, and Denki's girlfriend was the one on the other side of the wood.

"Are you ready?" She smiled widely, and Bakugo felt the emotions running in his stomach.

"Don't make a fuzz over it"

You appeared in slow motion. Well, that's how he recalls it. He was absolutely right about the dress and the heels. He felt his mouth drying just at the sight of you in front of him. Your makeup was subtle but remarked the main factions of your face. Your eyes were stunning and sparkling, and your mouth highlighted with a subtle shadow of light brown lipstick and gloss on top.

"You -" he stuttered. He cursed himself on his mind for acting like a teenager. "You look beautiful"

You smiled at him, and your cheeks went red in an instant but this time it wasn't for shame, it was purely because of his compliment.

"Let's go," he offered his arm, and you happily clung to it. You needed the balance.

"Have fun!" Jirou screamed from the door when you two walked away from her.

The ride in the car was nice. The spring breeze made you shiver a few times, but he was quick enough to pull the windows up. You thanked him in your mind.

On the other hand, Bakugo was sweating like a pig. He knew he needed to look at the road, but he was so mesmerized by your beauty that he couldn't help staring at you, giving you subtle glances.

He didn't want the ride to be silent, but he didn't know what to say without giving away too much or making a shame of himself.

He was a nervous wreck.

The two of you arrived at the venue with the sun setting on your backs. You had your arm locked on Bakugo's to maintain stability in your heels. With the heels on, he was only half of a head taller than you, so know you could actually see his eyes without killing your neck in the process.

The thematic of the party was classic and luxurious. You weren't wrong about the chandeliers and the champagne because the first thing you saw above your head was an enormous chandelier hanging from the roof, which was very far from the ground and about the champagne, after your mouth almost fell from his junction at the sight of the warm light, a waiter dressed in black waved his tray with multiples flute cups urging you to take one.

Bakugo was kind enough to take two of them and nodded at the waiter, who continued to offer them to the other guests.

Man, you needed at least three of them to just adjust yourself to the atmosphere.

"D'you like it?" He asked, offering the beverage.

"I mean, yeah, it's amazing, and I can't even begin to think the work your parents had to put on this, but I feel like an ant in a shark tank"

He smirked at your comparison.

"You look good," he assured you.

Before you could say anything a tug in your shoulder made you both turn around.

"Who's this?"

The femenine image of Bakugo was in front of you, looking at you with awe and sparkling eyes.

"I thought I'll have enough time to sneak out before bumping into you, mom." he rolled his eyes, and his mom didn't waste time smacking his shoulder with her hand.

"Don't talk to me like that, Katsuki. I'm your goddamn mother, " she flicked his son's forehead and then, like nothing happened, returned to you. "Who are you, darling?"

"She's my friend," Bakugo said before you could open your mouth. He looked constipated like he was trying so hard that you didn't talk.

"Hi, Mrs Bakugo, I'm very pleased to meet you," you said after giving her your name.

"Katsuki, I thought you'll bring your friends, this is a nice surprise." she was genuinely excited. "Are you his girlfriend or his girl-friend?" she waved her arms, stating the comparison with a playful wink that made you blush.

"She's just my friend," Bakugo answered, annoyed. "Where's dad?"

"Oh, he's over there sweeping away the candy table, I swear that man loves too much those little macaroons," she smiled at the sight of her husband. "Anyway, enjoy the party, I hope to see you again, darling," she squeezed your shoulder in her way out.

"She's cool," you said once she was out of sight.

Bakugo snorted and shook his head.

"That's because she doesn't scream at you, c'mon, let me introduce you to my dad" he grabbed your hand this time pulling you through the crowd and you didn't know how to feel about the sudden interaction.

Bakugo's dad was visibly the opposite of his mom. He was quiet, very calm and nice. He asked you about college and about your quirk. The three of you talked about random topics for almost half an hour, and you could tell that Bakugo was more relaxed around his dad than with his mom.

The party began after a speech from both of Bakugo's parents talking about the fashion industry and his own company. The start of it, the challenges they went through in the way of what was today and everything. They thanked their employees, which you found very modest of them, in the best sense of the word.

Then everyone was in their world talking to each other and laughing at the memories they shared. You and Bakugo were leaning in the bar table, asking for something else than champagne. Your tongue wasn't used to refined alcohol.

"Is it always like this?" You asked watching everyone from afar.

"Yeah, the best part is that they only do this twice a year, I need to use the bathroom. Can you stay here and wait for the drinks?" You nodded and gave him a small smile that he gave back.

In his absence, you took the time to look at your phone and replied to Jirou's text since it was just one text you needed to reply to. You started scrolling through the apps and watching stories from your friends. Mina's story appeared just after you accepted on being her friend.

The image of her and Bakugo's friend appeared in an instant. They were hanging together and playing cards in a bar while drinking beer. You felt the champagne in your stomach twirl and made you nauseous.

Why did they tell Bakugo that they were busy?

You were thinking about telling him or not when he appeared and looked above your shoulder.

"What are you doing?" He asked, raising his brow at you.

He didn't give you the time to hide the evidence, so he was very stunned when he watched his friend's story.

"I'm so sorry they lied to you," you said sadly.

His reaction took you by surprise. He wasn't sad or angry. Instead, he was stoic, he standed there thinking and looking at the abyss shuffling the options in his mind.

"It's okay, I didn't invite them," he shrugged and sat on the bar stool, taking the glass of something in his hand.

The look on your face was epic.

"What? But you told me-" you were dumbfounded.

"I know what I told you," he interrupted. "I just didn't want you to say no and I really wanted you to come"

The last time someone was so eager to spend time with you was when you were in charge of the twins, and the couple who adopted them wanted to be by their side all the time.

"Why?" You said confused by his actions.

"I wanted to know you better, like friends do." he wasn't even looking at you, focused completely on sipping from his glass. Yours was in front of you when you realized that it was a Cosmopolitan that you haven't ordered. He remembered.

"Well, I don't know what to say"

"It's okay if you're mad" he mumbled under his breath. He didn't want you to be mad.

"Mad? I'm flattered. I mean, yesterday I was the last option, and now I'm the only option you had in mind since the beginning, " you said toying with your fingers.

You didn't like any sort of lies, but you could understand why he did that. You weren't very open with anyone but your friends so it was very difficult to reach you sometimes. At least he was trying.

"So, do you like to dance, or am I just going to use this dress like a mannequin?" You said batting your long lashes at him.

"Your wishes are my commands, ma'am," he offered his hand, and you took it without hesitating.

"Oh my god, you're so damn cocky"

Your cheeky tone made butterflies erupt in Bakugo's body. That shithead of Kaminari was right. You were absolutely fun to have around.

After a few dances and a lot of drinking, at least for your part, because Bakugo had to drive you back, you were a giant mess. You felt the heat in your body and your feet staring to swell because of the dances. Bakugo was a great dancer, he knew how to sway and how twirl you without leaving you on the ground. You made fun of him multiple times and he took advantage of your state giving you the false sensation that after a spin he would actually drop you.

"I'm a mess right now," you stated the obvious. The drink was way over your head, and it made your legs feel lightweight.

"Yeah, you've stomped in my feet three times," he grinned grabbing you firmly by your waist.

"I'm sorry," you pouted. "I needed to make sure you weren't feeling so confident about your dancing skills. What a bummer! Do you really have to be good at everything? It's exhausting, Bakugo"

The way he laughed at you made you feel whole. He was genuinely laughing, heading back and relaxed shoulder. The whole starting pack of finding you funny.

"Katsuki," he returned to his normal state.

"What?" you asked. Your mind was working slowler than usual.

"You can call me Katsuki after you crushed my feet and almost teared off my arm when you thought you were falling, I think we are okay with first name basis"

Your emotions were in a state of haze. You could blame the alcohol in your veins, but you could also blame the stunning man in front of you, glancing your figure and never letting go of your skin.

He looked as hypnotized as you, but he was more in his right mind to make a subtle move.

Leaning and entering in your space, he took a loose lock of your hair with his fingers and carefully placed it behind your ear, taking the moment to hang in there for a while.

You gulped at the feeling of having him so close.

"I think we should dance one last time before we go," he whispered in your ear.

The slow music played through the speakers. Katsuki grabbed your hand, who was tiny against his big one. He placed the other hand in your waist while yours stayed in his shoulder. The intense look you were sharing gave you enough time to look at his eyes and memorize them. In the warm and fainty light, they looked brighter than other occasions, or maybe it was just because you now were taking your time to really look at them.

Katsuki felt the same way, he sweep your entire face with his eyes while guiding your dance. Your big eyes looked at him like he was the only thing in the world, the tip of your nose little red just as well as your cheeks and your lips, slightly apart and puffy, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

Would you let him? Kiss you?

He wanted to ask, but he was afraid. Bakugo Katsuki was afraid of asking a girl to please let him kiss her?

At that point, he didn't mind begging you to let him taste the sweet of your lips. He was dealing with his own devils inside of his brain. He promised you that his only intention was to be your friend, and now, after a splendid day, his own instincts were about fuck everything up or make it better.

Without even noticing, he started to lean towards you, and you were leaning as well to meet him in the middle. When he realized you were halfway to stamp your lips on his. Your eyes fluttered in between staying open and closed and he sucked his air because it was about to happen.

Ride or die, he thought.

You were inches away from each other when abruptly you shrinked in your position and your eyes snapped open in pain.

Your ankle sabotaged you.

After a little fuzz about it, where the two of you decided to forget the previous situation, you were situated in Katsuki's front seat with the help of his dad and a waiter. Your ankle was getting bigger and bigger and Katsuki couldn't stop looking at it.

"We have to go to emergencies," he stated.

You waved him off, rolling your eyes and internally screaming because of the pain. Damn high heels, you would never use them again.

"It's okay, I'll go to recovery girl tomorrow morning, and she'll do something about it"

That was the main plan. Katsuki felt stupid because with the preoccupation of you in any sort of pain, he forgot that you had all the possibilities with Aizawa being your guardian.

Once you reached your building, he made sure of leaving you safely and tucked in your bed. He even wanted to carry you bridal style to your room, but you adamantly opposed the possibility of being the main gossip of the week.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you tomorrow?" He asked for what it seemed the tenth time. Jirou, who was at his back, had a finger lifted for every time he asked that.

"It's okay, Jirou can take me, right?" You said calmly.

"Sure," she faked innocence, hiding his hands behind his back.

"Here, my number." he took your phone from his jacket and put his number on your contacts. "Text me tomorrow, or you'll have me here all day"

God forbid.

"Fine," you smirked. "I had a good time, thank you"

He tucked his hands on his pant's pockets and nodded in agreement.

When the door closed, Jirou watched you with her eyes wide open in amusement.

"I know, don't say anything," you curled up to touch your ankle and see it closely. "This look nasty"

"Girl," she stated, not believing a thing she had just seen.

...

You didn't sleep a wink from the pain. Jirou stayed all night with you icing your entire feet to deflate it, but it didn't work.

The sun was getting up in the sky, and the both of you were tired and sitting in your bed with your backs against the wall.

"Thank god the only class I have today is skippable," she said, yawning.

"Mine is not skippable but I'll make it skippable" you said changing the ice pack to your other hand. "I'll talk to Aizawa"

"Did you asked why he was here yesterday?"

You've forgotten about that.

"No" you shook your head. "I didn't even give it a thought"

She hummed in response and the two of you fell in a comfort silence where you took the chance to close your eyes a little.

"Don't you think you are playing two teams?" Jirou asked while taking the ice pack from your hand and icing your ankle herself.

Her voice startled you less than his ask.

"No," you hissed when she hit a sensitive spot. "I mean, Bakugo invited me to that thing, I said yes, we danced...very close and intimate I'm not going to lie about it and then I sprinted my ankle and now I'm here, what's that of two teams"

"You are practically panicking because of your ankle, I know you have a date with Todoroki, but maybe this is a sign." She said reading your mind.

Todoroki had crossed your mind just once and it was when you started to think in your classes and how you'll go to them in one foot.

"I can't leave him hanging." You said. "Besides, Bakugo invited me as his friend. He asked me to be his friend not a week ago, there no reason to not go to my date tomorrow"

"Fair point," she nodded. "Aren't you betraying yourself with this? Like in that blubbering mess you were last night, you explicitly told me that you felt your stomach doing a flip every time he pressed his hand on your waist"

You blamed the pain and the alcohol.

"If I don't remember, that means it didn't happen." You grinned at her, and she bumped her shoulder at you playfully

Oh, but you did remember, and it brought you mixed feelings that you didn't know how to deal with. With the sun rays of the morning stepping in your room through your curtains you couldn't help but think how fucked you were.

(Not proofread yet)

End note: I know I made you wait, but the waiting had its purpose. My winter break is over :( and since I've been updating on Wednesdays, I needed to re-schedule this to Fridays. For the wait, this chapter is longer and involves more scenarios and the "date" that I know you didn't see it coming. Bakugo surpassed Todoroki without knowing it! Devil works hard but Bakugo wanting reader works harder.

A penny for your thoughts about this (not really but express yourself)

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[mrsshabana]

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

ꔫ‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, pregnancy, age difference, angst, fluff, modern au ꔫ‧₊ Note 5k words. This is the last chapter for this fic, but I still have lots of things that I want to write for this au so be on the lookout for oneshots in the future. Thank you for all of your support for this series ♡ ✧:･ﾟ→ Part one ✧:･ﾟ→ Part two

“Fuck fuck fuck! What do I do? Her mom is gonna kill me if she figures out I’m dating her daughter! And then Y/N is gonna kill me for telling her mom!” Gyutaro thinks to himself as he begins to panic.

“Ahem,” your mother clears her throat and repeats her question, “Who the hell are you, sir?”

“Er um… Gyutaro?” he says as if he’s not sure what his own name is. 

“Gyutaro?!” her eyes widen.

“Shit… does she already know who I am? I thought Y/N didn’t tell her…” he thinks again. 

“Y/N! Come here!” she yells inside the house, then she turns back to Gyutaro and opens the door, “Come in, Gyutaro.”

“Um… th-thanks,” he stutters as he nervously steps inside, not sure whether your mother is angry with him or not. 

“Yeah, mom? What’s wro-” you stop mid-sentence as you come into the dining room and see your boyfriend standing there. 

“Y/N,” your mom says sternly, “This man just told me that his name is Gyutaro.”

You blush, “Um yeah… this is Gyutaro.”

“You failed to tell me that your boyfriend was a grown ass man,” she scowls and walks into the kitchen.

“Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you! I was scared of how you’d react,” you plea as you follow her into the kitchen.

Gyutaro just stands awkwardly in your dining room, wishing that he could shrink and hide somewhere. His palms begin to sweat as he thinks about the consequences of his actions. Is your mother going to make you break up with him? 

The thought makes his heart ache. Is he going to lose his sister and his girlfriend on the same day? 

Your mom comes back into the dining room holding a teapot and some cups, “Gyutaro, come sit and make yourself comfortable,” she says as she pours a cup of tea for him. 

“Y-Yes ma’am,” he mutters and sits at the table.

You aren’t sure what to do or say to make things better, but you sit beside Gyutaro and give him a reassuring look in an attempt to comfort him. In response, he looks at you with a guilty look in his eyes as if he’s apologizing. 

“Gyutaro,” your mom says calmly as she sits across from him at the table, “I have three questions for you.”

“Y-yes?” he gulps.

“Do you have a job?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Do you have a criminal record?”

“No ma’am.”

“Do you pay your taxes?” 

“Of course!” he answers enthusiastically.

“Alright. Now Y/N, I have three questions for you,” she diverts her attention to you now, “Does Gyutaro make you happy?”

“Y-Yes! He makes me very happy…” you blush. 

“Does he behave like a gentleman?”

“Yes, always,” your cheeks redden.

“Do you love him?”

“I-I do,” you mutter, feeling shy about admitting this in front of your mom. 

“Alright, then I approve of him. Even though he’s a bit older than you, he seems like a decent man,” she states as she looks over at Gyutaro’s flustered face, “Welcome to the family, Gyutaro.”

“Th-Thank you Miss L/N!” he lets out a sigh of relief, finally feeling in the clear that your mom approves of your relationship. 

“See mom! I told you he was a good boyfriend!” You jump up and give him a big hug, genuinely feeling so happy that your mom accepts your relationship. It was something you were really worried about, especially since your mom has always been very protective of you. Honestly, you're quite surprised she’s so cool about the age difference between you and your boyfriend. 

“I honestly thought you’d be mad,” you laugh nervously, hoping you aren’t jinxing it. 

She sighs and sips her tea, “You know dear, your father was the same age as me. And he left me when I was pregnant with you. He was young and immature. Age means nothing,” she shakes her head, “I rather you date an older man that pays his taxes and takes care of you than a man your age that only cares about himself.”

Gyutaro smiles, finally feeling like someone accepts him and doesn’t judge him. He sees where you get it from now. 

“And that’s why your father is in prison for tax evasion…” she mumbles under her breath, only Gyutaro hears what she says. 

“Aw mom… I promise you Gyutaro is nothing like dad,” you say, looking a bit somber as you take a sip of your tea. 

“I can already tell,” she smiles, “Well, you two can go have your fun. Just be home by ten.”

“Are we going on a date, Gyu?”

“Oh uh no… actually I came over for something else,” he swallows dryly, “Um… I told Ume about us.”

Immediately from the look on his face you can tell things didn’t go well. “Oh… Did she take it really hard?”

“Yeah,” he nods, choking up a bit, “She called me disgusting… then she slapped me and left,” he touches his cheek, still red from her hand. 

“She what?!” you gasp, totally shocked that Ume would get physical with her brother. You aren’t sure what words to say, it seems like nothing would be able to fix this. The one person who has been with him his entire life, the person he dedicates all of his hard work to doesn’t accept his relationship. It’s a really hard pill to swallow, and he’s still struggling to even think about it. 

The surprise meeting with your mother distracted him momentarily, but all of those raw feelings from his argument with Ume are flowing back now and he feels his eyes begin to well up with tears. 

“Ume is his sister, right?” Your mother whispers to you.

“Yeah,” you nod. 

“I see,” she puts her hand on Gyutaro’s shoulder, feeling lots of sympathy for him, “Gyutaro listen, your sister didn’t mean it and I think you know that. The two people that she’s closest to started dating and she’s probably feeling left out. Like you two will get closer without her and leave her. She’s just scared and said whatever she could to try to hurt your relationship. Just give her time, I promise she’ll come around.”

Your mom smiles softly, offering Gyutaro that motherly care he grew up without.

“Th-thanks,” he sniffles, trying to hold back his tears, “I know you’re right. It just hurt when she said those things, but I know she still loves me… and I still love her too. I just hope she comes home soon…”

“Maybe try calling her tomorrow if she doesn’t come home by then,” you suggest as you rub his back.

Gyutaro nods, feeling better after having talked to the both of you. 

Of course, it hurt like a ton of bricks crushing his balls, but he knows the pain is only temporary. Soon enough his sister will come back and he’s going to make sure she doesn’t feel left out. 

The thing is, even after a couple of days Ume doesn’t return home. Nor does she answer Gyutaro’s phone calls. 

Every day you receive worried texts and calls from Gyutaro asking if you’ve seen his sister. You haven’t heard anything from her, and to be honest you think it’s kinda messed up that she’s ignoring her brother like this. Sure they had a pretty big argument but she knows he cares about her, and she knows he’s losing his shit worrying about her right now. 

Seeing your boyfriend so torn up over it is making you really upset, and you’ve had enough of it. 

Ume has been ditching class for a couple of days, but she finally shows up. Coming into the room completely ignoring you, taking her seat at the opposite side of the lecture hall. Even though you hate confrontation you know you can’t just let her walk away after class ends, so you stop her as she’s leaving the lecture hall. 

“Ume! Hey wait up!” you shout as you follow her out of the room. 

“I have nothing to say to you,” she turns her nose up.

“Please talk to me,” you finally catch up to her, “I just want to talk, Gyutaro told me what happened.”

“Of course he did,” she scoffs, “Because you two are so buddy-buddy now. How about you just move in with him and take my spot in the house? I bet you’d like that, huh?”

“What? No! I’m not trying to take him away from you!”

“What else am I supposed to think?! You were my best friend and then I find out you’ve been hooking up with my brother behind my back! You’re a shady bitch!”

“It’s not like that! I was never “hooking up” with him!” You plea, “We just started dating like any other couple, I don’t see why you have to say it like that.”

“So what is it then? If you weren’t just hooking up with him what were you doing then? Do you want his money or something? Want him to be your sugar daddy?” she makes a disgusted face.

“No! You don’t get it! Just because Gyutaro’s older than me doesn’t mean I’m using him for this or that. I just like him because he’s a good guy,” you say, trying to get your point across without yelling at her, “Why can’t you just accept that I like him for who he is?”

Ume’s frown begins to soften and her eyes dart from side to side as if she’s thinking about something. She’s beginning to realize how selfish it was of her to think that someone couldn’t love her brother for who he is. Gyutaro came to the realization that he was unlovable long ago, and his beliefs rubbed off on his sister. But now she’s starting to see how wrong that is, she should have been his biggest cheerleader regardless of how glum things seemed. 

Sure Gyutaro isn’t the most attractive guy, nor is he the most charming, but she knows her brother more than anyone. And she can think of a thousands reasons why someone would fall in love with him. 

“I’m sorry Y/N,” she says, “You’re right. My brother is super slay, and I shouldn’t have been surprised you liked him. You’re the only girl to get close to him, so I guess it makes sense.”

You smile, finally feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. 

“It’s alright, I know it came as a surprise to you,” you lean forward and hug her, “But I’m honestly just happy to have my friend back.”

“Me too,” she says with a smile.

After you reconcile with Ume, Gyutaro comes to pick you up from campus as the two of you had planned a date for tonight at his place. But when he pulls up to the curb and sees you with Ume he immediately parks his car and gets out.

“Ume!” he shouts as he runs towards you, “Where the hell have you been?!”

“Calm down brother,” she acts nonchalant about being missing for three days, “I was staying with a friend.”

“You had me worried sick,” his voice cracks as he tears up. Feeling a mixture of anger and relief.

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a tight hug, “I-I’ve been a brat lately. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did when you told me about Y/N… and I should never have hit you either. I’m really sorry, brother…”

“It’s alright, sis,” immediately Gyutaro’s attitude changes and he has a smile on his face, “You are a brat, but I love you anyways,”

For the first time in your relationship, Gyutaro actually feels normal. Knowing that he has the approval of his sister, he no longer feels so much shame about being older than you. He can confidently walk out in public with you now and hold your hand without giving a fuck. Someone stares at you weirdly? Well, fuck them! Gyutaro is with his girl and he couldn’t care less about anyone else’s opinion about it. He’s happy and you’re happy. That’s all that matters to him. 

The three of you go back to Gyutaro’s house and watch a movie together. The plan was for you and Gyutaro to have a stay-at-home date together, but you decided it’d be best to include Ume too so she doesn’t feel left out. It went well despite the fact that Ume decided to sit in between you and Gyutaro. 

After the movie ends Gyutaro asks you a question as he cleans up some popcorn that fell between the couch cushions, “So uh… did you want to stay the night?”

“Not with me!” Ume butts in, “She has your cooties now!”

“Ume! Shut it!” Gyutaro blushes, “Cooties don’t exist, don’t be so childish.”

“I was just kidding, brother,” she rolls her eyes, “Y/N just stay in my brother's room. Just promise you guys won’t be too loud.”

“H-Hey!! It ain’t like that!!” he shouts with a completely red face as Ume is already walking back towards her bedroom. He knows she’s just teasing him but he still feels very shy when it comes to this kind of thing. Especially since the two of you have only spent one night in the same bed, and both of you vividly remember what took place then.

“It’s ok Gyu,” you chuckle, your cheeks already pink from Ume’s earlier statement, “Let’s just get ready for bed, ok?” 

“Ok…” he grumbles as he finishes cleaning up his sister’s mess. 

Following Gyutaro to his room, you can’t help but think about what might happen tonight. Will you have sex with him again? How will it go? Maybe you’ll try a different position or maybe even oral this time. Your heartbeat quickens as you think about all of the possibilities. 

Little do you know, he’s thinking about the exact same thing. He wants to be intimate with you again so badly. And for the first time instead of feeling awkward and insecure, he feels confident about initiating sex with you.

“I’m going to run a bath for us,” he says after he closes the bedroom door behind you and walks into the bathroom that’s connected to his room. 

“O-Ok,” you stutter as your face heats up. Did he say he’s going to run a bath for us? Meaning he wants to take a bath with you?

As you hear the water running in the bathroom you decide to take off your clothes, only leaving your undergarments. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you take a deep breath and try to calm your thoughts. If you do end up having sex with him tonight, you want to be relaxed so you can enjoy the moment. 

But even though Gyutaro seemed cool and collected he’s freaking out on the inside. And that shows when he comes back into the room to see you in nothing but panties and a bra. Immediately the cool guy act crumbles and he’s staring at you like this is the first time he’s seen a naked woman. 

“U-um Y/N?” he stutters. 

“Is the bath ready?” you sit up to meet his flustered gaze. 

“Yeah,” he nods, tenderly taking your hand and leading you to his pristine bathroom. The first thing you notice is how clean and neat it is compared to Ume’s. 

Gyutaro avoids eye contact with you as he begins removing his clothes. First to go is his shirt, revealing his muscled torso and the large tattoo on his arm. He hesitates when taking off his pants, already feeling himself getting hard. 

“Fuck…” he mutters to himself. Not wanting to make this awkward by just flaunting his hard-on. So he faces away from you and quickly steps into the tub, covering himself with his hand just to be safe. 

To be honest, he got in so quickly that you didn’t even really notice. You do feel a bit shy removing your own clothes though, this will be the first time he’s seen you nude in a fully lit room. 

And your boyfriend can tell just how nervous you are so he doesn’t stare. Only reaching out a hand to help you get into the tub when you’re ready. 

The water is warm and soothing, the surface covered by cherry scented bubbles - which he strategically put in there so you wouldn’t be able to see how achingly hard he is. 

Leaning back with a content sigh, Gyutaro opens his arms to you, “C’mere.”

With a blush you come to your boyfriend and lay your head on his chest, snuggling up to him under the warm water. Surely by now you can feel it, so maybe the bubbles were a waste of time. But that’s ok because Gyutaro isn’t even worried about that anymore, he’s too focused on how lucky he is to be having this moment with you right now. 

“This is nice, Gyu,” you hum as you trail your hand up and down his chest, “I like being alone with you like this.”

“Me too,” he whispers while trying not to moan from your touch. “You-you look really beautiful by the way…” His gaze drifts down to see your curves peeking out from beneath the water. 

He can’t deny it anymore, how badly he wants to have sex with you right now. Ever since you did it the first time it’s constantly been on his mind. But not for the reason you may think. He loved it so much because he felt so loved. It was the first time in his life that he felt so intimately close to someone. That kind of love and closeness is something he’s craved for his entire thirty-five years of life. 

And after today, all of the confidence he gained from finally having his sister’s acceptance, he’s feeling less ashamed of himself. His girl loves him, so why shouldn’t he show her how much he wants her? There’s nothing to be afraid of. 

Mustering all of the confidence he has, Gyutaro gently caresses your cheek - moving a strand of hair away from your face and looking into your eyes. Immediately you feel your knees go weak and your thighs rub together with need. 

He pulls you closer and presses his lips against yours, initiating a heated kiss. 

You can’t help but completely melt into him, allowing him to guide you fully on top of him. Now you’re definitely able to feel his erection as it presses between your legs. But it’s no surprise, you could tell he wanted you by the way he looked at you before he kissed you. 

Beneath the water he maneuvers his hands, one cupping your breast and the other squeezing your thigh. Enjoying the slippery softness of your soapy skin under his touch. Moving his kiss down to your neck, he nibbles and sucks on your delicate skin. 

“Ah, Gyu,” you whimper and hold onto his shoulders. 

He can’t help but smirk, pride building up within him that he’s able to make you melt like this. “M’gonna make love to you,” he whispers into your ear as he moves forward, pushing you to lay on your back as he moves your legs to hang over his shoulders. 

Looking up at him, you feel like your body has become jelly. He looks so sexy as he hovers above you, from the way his long damp hair sticks to his forehead and neck to the way the water droplets cling to his abs and biceps. Not to mention the patch of hair that trails up to his belly button. It all makes you feel butterflies and you can’t help but spread your legs for him. 

Tightly gripping your thighs, he leans forward and whispers, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll go slow,” and gently moves his hips forward - gradually sliding into you, splitting you apart on his length. 

You gasp and squirm beneath him, your body sweats as you are not only surrounded by the warm water but also by his hot body on top of you. 

Once fully inside, he slowly thrusts into you just as he had promised. Making sure to pay close attention to your reaction to make sure you're comfortable. 

And you’re more than comfortable. If anything you’re too comfortable. The fact that he isn’t vigorously ramming into you as if he intends to put a baby in you is unbearable. So you grab his hips and forcefully plunge him into you, “Fuck me harder Gyu!” You pant, desperately trying to guide him to a faster pace. 

His eyes widen and his cheeks turn pink, but he doesn’t need to be told twice. With your permission, he grabs your hips and violently thrusts into you - so hard that the water in the tub spills over the edge. But neither of you care, too lost in pleasure to even notice. 

“Ahh, I wish you could put a baby in me, Gyu!” you moan, not fully realizing what you’re saying. But your statement sparks something within him and triggers a kink he didn’t even know he had. 

“Fuck… I wanna put a baby in you so bad,” he grunts, “gonna stuff you full.”

The thought of getting you pregnant makes Gyutaro absolutely feral. A family is something he’s always wanted, so just the mere idea of you carrying his baby drives him to fuck you even harder. Determined to get as deep as possible, ensuring that his seed fills you nice and full. 

With that thought in mind, he picks you up and holds you close to his body while he stands on his knees. Holding onto your hips as he pounds into you, the sound of wet skin slapping fills the room along with water splattering onto the tile floor. 

Meanwhile, you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on tightly while he fucks you silly. Saliva dripping down your chin and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, moaning and gasping as your boyfriend continuously forces the air out of your lungs. Your entire body begins to tingle, you know you’re getting close. And he knows it too by the way your walls are tightening around him. 

That’s the only warning he gets before you’re cumming all over him. Your body shaking as his strong arms hold you up. 

However, his orgasm hits him out of nowhere, as soon as he feels your orgasm hit you it pushes him over the edge as well. He didn’t want to cum just yet but you feel so good that he can’t help it. His cock twitches as it fills you to the brim with his sticky seed. The warmth spreading inside of you comforts you as your sensitive body lies in his arms. 

Gyutaro pants as he holds you there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Then he gently lowers himself back into the tub, holding you and softly kissing you as you remain in his arms. 

Now that his orgasm has ended, he knows it was all just talk. That he can’t actually get you pregnant since you’re on birth control. But he can tell that a part of what you said was true and not only because it was in the heat of the moment. And it was true for him too. He really would like to get you pregnant and start a family one day. 

“Don’t worry my love,” he whispers, “One day we will start a family together, I promise.” 

You can’t help but smile and snuggle closer to him - hoping that one day you really will get to start a family with him. 

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

And it won’t be long until Gyutaro makes you an official Shabana.

Because a year later he proposes to you. 

After you graduated and moved in with him he knew that he had to make you his wife. So it wasn’t long until he couldn’t wait any longer and just asked. The two of you were on a weekend trip to the beach when he proposed. Nothing too fancy, but it was nice and romantic. He hadn’t planned to propose that weekend either, he had been carrying the ring around in his pocket for weeks. But when he saw how beautiful you looked as you walked beside him on the shore, he knew he had to make you his wife as soon as possible. 

You had the wedding four months after the proposal. It was a small ceremony with close family and friends, but it was absolutely perfect. 

Ever since then your life has felt like a dream. 

Gyutaro got a promotion so now he doesn’t have to work overtime as often and there’s no pressure for you to work a full-time job if you don’t want to. Ume moved into an apartment in the city so now it’s just you and Gyutaro living in his house.  He’s even taken up doing some renovations in the kitchen and the spare bedroom too. 

It’s strange how your life changed so quickly after you met Gyutaro. You went from a college student living with your mom to being married and living with your husband in your own house all in the span of a year and a half. 

This isn’t the life you had envisioned yourself having after college, but you wouldn’t change a single thing. It’s perfect, and it’s only going to get better from here. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Gyutaro shouts as he comes into the house, “Sorry I’m late. I wanted to pick us up something from the bakery-” he stops when he looks around and sees you’re nowhere in sight. 

He peeks into the kitchen, “Where the hell is she?” next he checks the garden. “Y/N?” no, not there either. 

Usually, when he gets home from work you’re in the kitchen preparing dinner or sometimes outside in the garden. Sometimes you go out with your friends but you usually tell him first. He’s not mad though, he just assumes you went out and forgot to tell him. 

“Oh well, I’ll text her and see what she wants for dinner tonight,” he says to himself as he takes off his tie. His mind is lost in thought as he thinks about what he wants to make tonight, he’s thinking one of your favorites. 

As he contemplates dinner, he walks into the bedroom to see you sitting on the bed. Immediately he can tell that something is wrong. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” he walks over to you and puts his hand on your shoulder, “What’s that in your hand?” He asks as he notices you’re clutching something in your hands, hiding it from his view. 

“Gyu… I-I have to tell you something…” you mutter. 

“Babe, you’re scaring me… whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise I won’t be mad,” he says in a caring manner, trying to comfort you. 

Your thoughts are spiraling, not sure whether he will be happy or angered by what you say. But you know that it’s something he needs to know. 

However, you can’t even muster the words. So you just hand him the object you had clutched in your palms. 

The room is filled with silence as he closely observes the object, “You… you’re pregnant?”

“Y-yeah, I’m pregnant,” you nod and look up at him, anxious to see his reaction. And it isn’t at all what you had expected. 

There are tears pouring from his eyes as he clutches the positive pregnancy test. All of his walls start crumbling down and he lets it all out, sobbing uncontrollably. 

“Gyutaro?” you gasp, starting to panic. 

Before you can reach out to him he lunges forward and embraces you, tightly wrapping his arms around you. “We-we’re gonna have a baby!” he sobs, “I can’t believe it.”

“Aw honey, so… you’re happy?”

“Of course I’m happy! Th-this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me!” he says between sobs.

It seems you were worried for nothing. You knew Gyutaro always wanted children but you didn’t know if he wanted them now especially since you haven’t been married for very long. Gyutaro has always been nothing but loving and supportive towards you, so of course he was overjoyed at the news.

Your husband drops to his knees and presses his forehead against your stomach, “This is everything I’ve ever wanted…”

“Aw Gyu…” you smile and kiss the top of his head, “You’re going to be a great father.”

Hearing those words makes his tears flow even more. “I-I had no idea you were pregnant...”

“It was bound to happen,” you chuckle causing him to chuckle too.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right haha,” he stands and gives you another tight hug. 

The news was shocking to him, but he couldn’t be that surprised. Ever since you got married you’ve been having unprotected sex so it’s no surprise that it happened so soon. However, even though he’s married to a beautiful woman there was still a part of him that told him he was too old to have a family. Too old to have a child of his own. And too old to make a woman like you happy. 

But now he’s finally starting to realize that none of it was true. 

And he does deserve this. Marriage, children, and most importantly you. 

“I love you, Y/N… thank you for making all of my dreams come true.”

Taglist: @gyusimp @kyu-kitsune @idontevenknowlsjsbsbdj @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @chibi-absol @sterzin @cherrysxuya @angelicsaiko @misskaorii @matsukaah @dawn-rays-dingo @hoshigafuru @gloomysel @tergyri @404starlight @irondreamerface @zoroisminty @edenminx @multisstuff @that1lxnlybxch @emberlovesthemoon @blurpleuni-squid @boggiesho @nekee-lilac02

[oniraki]

Choices have consequences

Pairing : Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female Reader , Simon "Ghost" Riley x female Reader

Contents: Pregnancy , Unplanned Pregnancy, Infertility, Swearing, mentions of abortion (did I forget something? Let me know)

A/N : it's just a thought I came up with. Not sure if I shall continue or make a series out of it. Let me know.

Summary : Johnny fucked up. Knocked you up. Not able or willing to face the consequences of his actions, Simon reaches out for you to clean up his Sergeants mess.

"You did what?"

Simon, who was nursing his glass of whiskey up until now, nearly choked on the golden fluid, coughing violently. Something must've been wrong with his ears, or maybe he picked up part of a conversation that was held on another table in this room.

"Steamin Jesus, you heard me the first time LT!" Johnny bellowed. Noticing the stares of other people in the pub, caused by his commotion, he sighed but continued in a hushed tone. "I knocked her up.."

"Fucking hell MacTavish.."

Simon knew, that this was bound to happen. They all had different coping mechanism for the horrors they've experienced. He's seen Johnny with plenty pretty doves. Knowing, that he was desperate to not be alone at night. As if that would keep the night terrors away..

Up until now, Simon was sure, that Johnny would be cautious. Sure he talked about getting married one day and having loads of kids with the Missus but certainly not now. Certainly not like this.

Maybe he should've known better than to deem his Sargeant capable of using contraception.

"You sure it's yours?"

"Wish I wasn't but yeah.. the lass isn't one for screwing around between Missions"

Simon glued his gaze to Johnny whose own eyes were fixated on his pint. Her being in the military as well wouldn't make things easier.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"... Tried talking to her, asked her to..."

The last part of Johnny's sentence was incomprehensible for Simon. But he still noticed the guilt in his companions eyes.

"Johnny.." his voice was like roaring thunder, a warning.

"Shit.. I know! But I was in shock and panicked!" The sergeant tried to defend himself. "It seemed like.. a good solution, wouldn't ruin her career. Thought it would be best for both of us."

"Guess she doesn't think so, eh?"

Johnny hunched his shoulders even more, head hanging low. "I can't have a bairn. It wasn't supposed to go like this.. no strings attached. Fucking hell.." His right hand was shaking as he ruffled his Mohawk in a futile attempt to calm himself.

Right now Soap was a mess, a mess Simon felt responsible for. Not in a sense of causing it, but he had to remove it before their next deployment. They couldn't afford Johnny to be so distracted and with his thoughts on a woman instead of the mission.

Simon had to make sure that he had Johnny's six, like Johnny always had Simon's. Even if it would require him to talk to you.

It was for the team's sake. His family, that always came first.

If he had only known what he was in for.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for letting my dog correct (nip) my niece to prove a point and refusing to punish him?

I own an ex-K9 called Biggles. Biggles is impeccably trained, a total gentleman when you're not being an asshole to him, but also has no time for your bullshit. He'll tolerate a lot more hassle from the younger kids in our family, but if they're allowed to persist in bullying him, he will correct them, just like he would the adults of the family.

Mostly Biggles will just push them over and walk away. Its his way of saying to leave him alone. Sometimes he'll bark loudly, a kind of 'fuck off now' bark. At the very extreme, he'll give them a tiny little warning nip on the arm or hand.

(Biggles has only ever nip corrected kids twice in all the years I've had him. Once when my cousin thought it was 'cute' to dump her toddler right on top of Biggles and let him rip at his fur and try to bite at his face, and once when my nephew was having a tantrum, Biggles tried to snuggle up to him to soothe him and my nephew hit him in the face.)

I firmly believe in learning how your pet communicates and respecting their reasonable boundaries. To me, if you're yanking on a dog's tail and ignoring everyone warning you to stop and you get a nip to the back of the hand for it, that's a valid consequence of your actions and you've just learned to respect the dog enough not to try pulling its tail out of its spine.

(This likely seems unfathomable to a lot of you, but I must clarify that Biggles isn't some hyper-reactive aggressive, dangerous dog like my sister thinks. He will more than happily play around with the little ones, faux wrestle with them, let them paw all over him and fuss at him, ect. He loves children, they're his babies. He does not love being in pain, and if the person causing it will not respect him or me enough to listen to my warnings, I believe they earn it when he warns them too.)

Anyway. Like you might've guessed, yanking on his tail was what my niece was doing at the beer-and-barbeque this weekend. I told her not to. My parents told her not to. Even my sister half-assedly suggested 'maybe Biggles wants to play a different game.' Biggles got up and moved away from her twice and she followed him both times to 'keep playing.'

My entire family knows how Biggles works. I warned my sister Biggles wouldn't tolerate what was happening. My sister told me I shouldn't own such a dangerous, unpredictable dog and he should be put down if he can't handle some 'rough love from a kid.'

(This was not rough love. This was my niece literally ripping at his tail thinking his pain responses were funny.)

I didn't want to cause a scene or subject Biggles to further harassment so I decided just once I'd cave and take Biggles inside so he could get some peace and I could enjoy my burnt ends without my sister squealing in my ear about being cruel to her child by telling her off.

Unfortunately, Biggles' patience ran out before I could make my way over. My niece yanked at his tail again, hard enough that it actually jolted him on the grass, and Biggles whipped around and nipped at her hand. I got to see her hand afterward and there was just a little red mark, no blood or broken skin. He'd just pinched her a little.

My niece screamed bloody murder like he'd taken her hand off and my sister screamed bloody murder about my 'vicious animal.' It devolved into a massive family-wide argument against my sister because my entire family knows its just basic respect and kindness not to cause an animal pain deliberately, and that its my sister's fault for not listening to anyone when we all told her and my niece not to hurt Biggles.

My sister stormed off and has since been blowing up the entire family demanding that Biggles be put down. She's threatened to call the cops, animal control, you name it. None of us are worried about that. There wasn't even a proper mark left on her hand and Biggles will pass any behavioral test with flying colors, but my sister is giving everyone grief and is refusing to attend any family events if Biggles will be there.

My dad is firmly on my side, but my mom is imploring me to just fake apologise to get some peace back. When I recounted the story to my colleague this morning, he said she got what she earned, but also why would I bring Biggles to an event I knew a disrespectful little shit of a kid was at?

I don't feel like an asshole in terms of allowing my dog to establish his boundaries. In my and my family's opinion pets are their own entities and should be treated with belonging and respect when part of a family. Its also just common sense not to cause an animal pain for the fun of it.

However, I'm also very aware that getting nipped by a dog, especially at such a young age, can be catastrophic. My niece could be terrified of dogs for the rest of her life, and while I don't feel guilty she got corrected, I do feel somewhat guilty that I didn't intervene sooner and have possibly set her up for failure in the future. And I do feel like an asshole for letting it get to that point, but it did all happen pretty quickly.

All things considered I do love my niece, she's family, she just gets away with murder because my sister thinks being a little girl is an automatic pass to do whatever you want without consequence.

I've probably painted Biggles out in a real bad light here, but I can assure you that in general Biggles is the perfect family dog. He's loving, playful, he tries to share his kibble with everyone at dinner, he helped us teach my uncle's puppy tricks and how to behave and potty outside ect.

So I guess I'm really asking am I the asshole in this situation, as the one responsible for Biggles?

What are these acronyms?

[shotmrmiller]

i can‘t find this anywhere but possibly anal…? like you‘re fucking and he unexpectedly does it.

you got it.

1.5k words

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x AFAB! Reader

TW: explicit smut, p in v then anal. MDNI 18+ ty

Holding on to the back of his shirt, you bite the inside of your cheek nervously. Now you've done it. You'd been wanting to see just how much of your bratty behavior Simon would tolerate before he snapped— and what better time to test that limit than on a night out with your friends?

Dressed in a little black number that left your back completely exposed and cat eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man, you set out with purpose. You knew he'd be at the bar. Somehow, you'd always see him in the corner of your eye when out at a bar. Maybe it was a complete coincidence, or maybe Simon was keeping an eye on what's his— who knows? All you know is that that's what you're banking on.

Separating from your friends, there's an impish smile on your gloss-covered lips as you let strangers buy you drinks. You force a laugh out at a terrible joke that some nobody says when you feel a burning gaze at the back of your head, sending a prickling sensation curling up your spine. Hook.

The stranger tells another weak joke and you cover your mouth as you laugh, putting your hand on his forearm. Line.

You lean forward, a complete invasion of personal space, with a sultry smile and glittering eyes. The stranger picks up on your mood and lowers his head to get closer to yours. Sinker.

"I'm very sorry for what's about to happen," you murmur.

Before he can even process what you've just said, he's grabbed by his hair and flung to the ground, away from you. You wince at the sound his body makes on impact.

Simon stands with his broad back towards you, looking down at the poor victim of your choice. Lowering down to his haunches, he gives the stranger a real good look at his skull balaclava and grinds out, "That cat there," as he nods in your direction, "is taken."

The man is shaking as he stammers out, "I swear I didn't know! She didn't say anything about—"

Simon cuts him off with a flick of his hand.

"If I catch you anywhere near her again, you'll be digging out your own grave."

With an erratic nod, he drags himself backward, away from the both of you. Standing up, Simon turns to you with an inscrutable look. You just look back up at him doe eyes.

In a sudden movement, he takes his jacket off, wrapping it around your waist, before he picks you up like a sack of rice— tattooed forearm across the back of your now-covered thighs, and storms towards the exit. He opens his truck door and drops you on the leather passenger seat before grabbing your face with an almost painful grip, forcing you to look at him.

"Actions have consequences, pet."

He steps away and slams the door closed.

--

Simon all but drags you into your flat and straight to the bedroom.

"What was that little show today, eh?", he says as he takes off the balaclava before turning to look at you.

"I'm not sure what—" and Simon cuts you off.

"The only time you get to act stupid is when I'm fucking you stupid."

You squeeze your thighs together at his words.

"On the bed then." You turn around and reach up around your neck to undo the strings of your dress when you're pushed harshly, ending up on all fours on the mattress. Pulling your dress over your hips, he slaps one arse cheek before soothing the sting.

"I said on the bed," giving you another sharp slap.

"Do I not give you enough attention?" He strikes the other cheek, then lowers his hand to cup your clothed pussy.

"Do I not give this greedy cunt exactly what it wants?" He slaps it and you whimper— the pained pleasure makes you wet.

"It's clear you need a reminder of who you belong to." He spanks your arse with both hands for a final time before grabbing your ankle and yanking you to the floor.

"On your knees."

Your reaction is visceral and you're kneeling with your mouth open, tongue sticking out and hands clasped behind your back.

"Atta girl," he purred.

Unbuckling his belt, he takes his erection out. A solid 8 inches, deliciously thick and heavy, curved upwards, your mouth waters at the sight. Shuffling closer, you look up at Simon for permission. He nods and you take him in your mouth, tongue stroking the vein on the underside of his cock. You bob your head a couple of times before he stops you with a grip on your hair.

"Say you're sorry," as he pushes your head, and you choke around his manhood.

He reiterates. "Say you're sorry or I don't fuck you. I'm more than happy to shoot my cum down your pretty throat."

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting between your mouth and the tip of his cock.

"M'sorry, Si. I was just," and you give him a cheshire grin, "limit testing."

Simon tsks twice before releasing an exasperated sigh.

"And here I thought you were ready to behave." He pauses to scratch his jaw then firmly grips your upper arm to pick you up and bend you over on the bed once more.

"If you're not going to submit, then I'll just have to fuck you into it."

Pulling the gusset of your knickers to the side, he presses into you. Closing your eyes at the stretch, he gives you just one second for your walls to acclimate before he sets a furious pace. Every thrust punches the air from your lungs and the little grunts Simon lets out tightens the coil in your stomach— making you drip onto the back of your thighs and the front of his. How were you so close already?

Switching up his rhythm, once every few thrusts Simon stops and grinds deep into you— pressing firmly against the entrance of your womb— and it aches. You whine at the discomfort, and he taunts, "What?" and presses his hips flush against your arse, pushing his cock into the depths only he can ever reach, "Is this not what you wanted?" and then he spits into your other hole before pressing his thumb inside slowly, to the knuckle. That almost pushed you over the edge and you're wailing— you feel so full.

"I'm just showing you who," press, "you" press, "belong" press, "to." and with that last grind, you shatter around him. Gummy walls tight around his cock, he continues to fuck you through your orgasm as he pants out, "Like that, baby. Just like that." Not having come down from your high, your mind is so gone that you don't feel when he pulls out before slipping his suddenly lubed-up length into your other hole without warning. Luckily it had been slightly stretched out from him taking you there a couple of days ago, but it still burns at the intrusion, and you hiss loudly.

"Deep breath, baby. Ah— fuck me. You're so tight, you're just about strangling my cock."

He pulls back, watching the ring of muscle pull back with him, and lets out a loud groan at the sight before pushing back in.

"Christ, sweet girl. You're sucking me right in."

He smacks your arse again, leaving behind sticky residue from the lube.

"All of your holes are for me to use as I please, aren't they, pet?" and you can't help but nod dumbly. He could ask you anything and you'd comply right now— he feels incredible inside of you, filling you to the brim.

It felt like he was thrusting into you for hours until he snarled, and with one large hand, pushed your chest flat against the mattress and pinned you down. Hammering into you. Truly fucking you. You're powerless under the weight of his body, feeling sweat drip onto your back. His thrusts send a jolt of pain up your spine from the sheer force of them, and it couldn't be more perfect.

After a dozen thrusts, you squeeze your walls and feel him swell, and with a sensual, loud, moan— he stills. His cock twitches inside of you, coating your insides with his come.

He finally moves, pulling out and you both hiss. Your limbs are heavy with fatigue, unable to move, so Simon grabs you by the shoulder to flip you around and face him. Your half-lidded eyes take in his appearance. Leaning over you, his forehead is dotted with sweat, dripping off his chin, and landing on your collarbone. Cheeks mottled pink and quick, ragged breaths leave his slightly open mouth. His eyes though— they're clear, staring right at you, adoring. He lowers his head and purposefully bumps your nose with his before slanting his mouth over yours, kissing you languid and soft. It's moments like this that are your favorite. He fucks you like he hates you but is so delicate with the aftercare that it makes your eyes sting with tears.

With one last kiss, he slowly gets you in a seated position before putting one arm under your knees and the other behind your back— carrying you to the bathroom.

"Let's get you in the bath, love. I'll make us some tea."

A/N: Do NOT do what was done here. If it's goin in the backdoor, you absolutely use a condom. It is not safe. UTI's are painful and it's almost a guarantee that it'll happen if not protected. And you should NEVER just full thrust into someone’s back door hole. Because you can and probably will causing tearing there. It can happen. Genuinely be safe between you and your partner.

[tallulah477]

Front Row Seat

Part 2 of Private Show

Kinktober Day 25: Caught Masterbating

Pairing: Lo'ak x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Lo’ak, Masterbating, Caught masterbating, Mutual masterbation, Oral (female receiving), Cumming untouched (kinda . . . Lo’ak cums from the smallest of touches), Size Difference, Dom reader, Sub Lo’ak, Slight edging/orgasm delay, Lo’ak being so gone for reader it’s actually embarrassing, He’s such a simp and so in love, Obsessive behavior, Brief mention of panic / panic attack, One mention of dismemberment

A/N: Honestly, idk how this got so long lol

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: Lo'ak's been avoiding you ever since the incident. But you're looking for him, and you want your own private show . . . with a front row seat.

Translations:

Tewng - Loincloth

Tsahìk - Spiritual Leader

Iknimaya - Na'vi Rite of Passage

Olo’eyktan - Clan Leader

Swoasey - Kava bowl (constructed from seed pods, used for drinking intoxicating beverages), handsized

Yawne - Beloved

Lo’ak feels like his heart is going to pound right out of his chest.

He can feel the panic setting in as he paces the length of the hut. He can’t believe that happened. How could he be so stupid? 

You saw him. 

You saw him - you know what he’s been doing. Know how he’s been creeping on you, watching you through your window at night when you’re supposed to be alone. Know that he’s seen you dance in your room, twirling around as the music moves through you, naked and carefree as the day you were born.

You know that he’s seen you touch yourself . . . and has touched himself to the sight in return.

His hands fly up to cover his face, the cool skin of his hands doing nothing to calm the fire blazing on his cheeks as he groans in distress.

Neteyam looks over at him from where he’s kneeling and carving some new arrows for his bow, hairless brows furrowed in worry. “Are you okay?”

Lo’ak groans again, muffled by the hard press of his palms before he rips his hands away. “No, bro. I’m not okay. I’m so far from okay,”

“What did you do?”

“Fucked up,” Lo’ak grunts and crosses his arms across his chest, just to do something with them. “I fucked up bad.”

Neteyam just continues to look at him, waiting for him to continue with a slight arch of his brow. 

“So, I watch y/n through her window at night sometimes . . .”

“Oh, Great Mother,”

“Shut up! I know,” Lo’ak snaps, hands flying back up to cover his face. “I know. But she caught me. She caught me, bro! What the fuck do I do?”

There’s a pause of silence before Neteyam bursts out laughing, earning a frustrated hiss from Lo’ak and two solid middle fingers.

“You’re not fucking helping,” Lo’ak growls.

“How am I supposed to help you?” Neteyam asks, still trying to stifle his mirth. “You’re fucked, brother. You messed up and now you’re going to have to reap the consequences of your actions.”

“She’s going to kill me! She’s already looking for me. I heard her asking Kiri if she knew where I was,”

Neteyam shrugs. “Just get it over with. Apologize to her. Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think,”

Lo’ak bites his lip, pressure building in his chest as he thinks of all the ways this could go so bad. 

What if you told Kiri what he did? Neteyam can laugh it off because he’s got his own little obsession going on with another Na’vi girl, so he understands the desperate need to constantly see her and be around her. Kiri, on the other hand - she’s a girl. She wouldn’t understand. She’d feel violated, angry at a fellow female being objectified and put in a compromising position. She’d never look at him the same way. 

Or what if you told his dad? Jake would be so upset with him. He would be even more of a disappointment to his father than he already is.

“Can you just,” Lo’ak grits out through clenched teeth. “Can you just help me?” 

“Maybe you can just say you were out for a walk and thought you heard something?” Neteyam tries, going back to his carving. “You just wanted to make sure everything was okay, right? No harm done. Sounds believable,”

“I was, uh- touching myself . . . when she caught me,”

“Yeah, but that window is higher up, right? So she only saw your face?”

Lo’ak grimaces, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Yeah, but– I left my tewng there though,”

Neteyam stops his carving and stares at Lo’ak, deadpan expression covering his face. “You can’t be helped,”

Lo’ak avoids you as best as he can, but it’s hard. 

You’re everywhere all of a sudden. Helping his grandmother in the Tsahìk’s tent, assisting the cooks with skinning and cutting the various meats and fruits for the communal last meal, even offering to watch Tuk a couple of times (which gave Lo’ak the scare of his life when he was about to enter his family’s tent only to hear your sweet voice giggle from inside it).

He’s trying his best to stay away, purposefully taking the long way around where he knows you’ll be just to avoid you seeing him. He avoids dinner a few times, feigning illness. And when he is at dinner, he makes sure to stay close to his family who he’s hopeful can act as a buffer between him and the knife you’re sure to use when you try to dismember him. 

But he can’t stay away for long. The constant need to be around you is too much. He needs to see you, to hear your beautiful voice and experience the way the world is just brighter, happier, better when you’re around. Before he was able to just exist in your presence, never really the center of your attention, but sometimes he was blessed enough to have your eyes locked on his for a few seconds, blunt teeth grinning up at him as your plump lips wrapped around the words ‘Hi, Lo’ak,”. 

And it was enough - enough interaction for him to be able to go back to his family’s hut, slide the privacy curtain shut in his alcove and shove his hand in his tewng, thinking about your pretty smile and your soft voice saying his name as he fists his cock like an animal. Your words, a never ending mantra of Hi, Lo’ak, echoing in his ears as he ruts into his hand faster, whining and moaning as he fucks his fist, his own whimpers of ‘fuck’ and ‘hi’ filling the alcove as he prays to Eywa that no one else is home to hear his shame. 

He can’t not be around you. He needs you, needs you like he needs air in his lungs to breathe. So, this whole avoiding you thing? It’s not working for him. He can’t go on like this - can’t keep creeping around his own village, hiding behind huts and trees, and trying to move stealthily among his fellow clan members in hopes that you won’t see him. He wants you to see him - wants your beautiful, shining eyes looking up at him. He wants to stare back into their depths as you tell him those three words he longs to hear, and have them actually be the meaning he hopes for and not just ‘I see you . . . looking at me through my window’.

He makes it about a week before things hit the fan. 

Tonight is night for celebration - three new members of the clan have been reborn, joining the rank of Warriors and becoming one of The People after successfully completing their iknimaya. The celebration is grand, music and dancing fill the center of the village as the clan celebrates the success of their young members. As the son of the Olo’eyktan and a fellow warrior himself, Lo’ak is required to attend. 

He knows you see him. He’s already impossible to miss, standing next to his father who is wearing his feathered, ceremonial attire - but for the first time that week, you’re not actively trying to get to him. Instead, it’s almost like you’re back in your room, by yourself, and unknowingly giving him a private dance just for him. 

Lo’ak watches you from across the fire as you dance in the flickering orange glow of the flames. Your small body moves in time with the beat of the song, hips swaying as you copy the movements of the Na’vi around you, and Lo’ak can’t help the way his heart pounds at the sight of you dancing to the traditional songs of his people. 

His mouth goes dry as the song turns you to the side and raises your arms up high over your head, granting him the sight of the entire length of your body all stretched out and on display. You're dressed in traditional Omatikaya clothes, the band of the tewng wrapped low around your hips, the extra length of the string dragging almost hypnotically across your thigh with each movement. Kiri must have helped you with the top, the beadwork into carefully draped feathering looks similar to hers, and the feathers fall perfectly over your just barely concealed breasts. 

Lo’ak’s eyes follow the tempting swell at the side of your chest, down the soft looking skin of your ribs and onto the seductive swing of your hips. And he wants. Wants so badly to kneel in front of you, grab your swaying hips in his big hands and drag you closer so he can feel the movement under his fingertips. But then your body turns to the other side and his eyes fall to the piece of fabric you have tucked under the band of your tewng. A very familiar piece of blue fabric - and a feeling of horror washes over him as he realizes you have his lost tewng nestled tightly against your hip. 

His eyes snap back to your face and he chokes on air when he finds you staring back, your own eyes, even hidden behind the glass of your mask, are intense and piercing in the flickering glow of the fire as you stare him down, never breaking your dance. Lo’ak shuffles back, accidentally bumping into Neteyam in his haste to get away from your unrelenting gaze, and Neteyam hisses as his swoasey is jostled, spilling a good bit of its contents on the ground and his feet. 

“What the fu–”

“Sorry! Shit, I’m–” Lo’ak stutters, eyes flickering between Neteyam’s irritated glare and your smirking figure. “Sorry, bro. I gotta go,”

He doesn’t give Neteyam a chance to answer before he’s turning and making a beeline for his family’s hut with his tail tucked between his legs. 

He makes it to the hut in record time, throwing open the thick front flaps and crossing the main living area with only a few long strides. He enters his alcove, scrubbing his hands over his face with a loud groan. Fuck! What is he supposed to do? You have his tewng - you were looking right at him, you wanted him to know you had it. He should be terrified, should be on his knees begging you for forgiveness, to have mercy on him and keep quiet about his transgressions and promise that he will leave you alone forever. 

But instead, his body feels hot, panic somehow ebbing away into desire. There has to be something wrong with his brain, this is not a normal reaction to the situation - but his body disagrees as he starts to harden in his tewng. 

You looked so beautiful dancing in front of the fire, like a goddess sent to him by Eywa herself. The way you looked in Na’vi clothing, the small, barely there traditional clothing of his people hanging onto your body like the worst kind of temptation. The band of the tewng hanging low on your hips, the curve of your ass peeking out from the back flap of material. That’s wrong, his brain says. Tewngs shouldn’t have a cover in the back like that. Traditional tewngs only have the front cover, so you should remove yours - if only to be correct in your Na’vi wear and bare your perfect ass for him to see instead of just the tease of it. 

He’s seen you in less, of course - but he’s never seen you bare so much skin purposefully before. His hands leave his face, balling into fists at his sides for a moment as he grinds his teeth together before he turns and snaps the privacy curtain shut to his alcove. His fingers work at the knots on his tewng, pulling it off and throwing it across the room as he lies down on his sleeping mat. 

Lo’ak’s hand slides down his stomach, breathing already labored as he wraps his hand around his cock. His eyes slip shut as he starts to stroke, visions of you immediately manifesting behind his dark lids. Images of you, on your knees, crawling towards him as he strokes himself - desire darkening your eyes as you watch him with hooded lids as you crawl closer. He whines as he watches you get closer and closer, focusing on your gorgeous face as you bite your lip, how the woven armband adorned with pretty purple beads hugs your bicep, and how your thighs and ass moves seductively with each forward movement just perfect enough to put him in a trance. 

The vision of you stops just in front of him, kneeling up and pulling his lost tewng from underneath your band. It must be so warm, having been pressed against your hip the entire celebration - warmed up with your body heat, pressed against your soft skin and covered in your scent. 

“This yours?” You say, slowly dragging the blue material across the top of your thighs, and Lo’ak moans, stroking himself faster as he watches you tease your skin with his tewng. 

You slide the material over your belly, letting it tickle your skin as you trail it up your ribs. “How many times have you cum in this very loincloth while thinking about me, hm?” You say, sliding the material higher until part of it disappears under the feathers of your top, nudging the bottom of your breast. “Lo’ak?” 

He groans, feet planting on the ground as his hips start to kick up, fucking into his fist. His breath catches in his throat when you drop his tewng and lean over him, arms on either side of his head, maskless face just inches away from his - lips just a breath away from his own. “Lo’ak,”

“Hah-y/n,” He moans, and he wants you to kiss him, wants this to be real so badly so you can kiss him. Just a little more . . . c'mon, just a little more.

“Lo’ak!”

His eyes snap open at the call, the very real call that’s coming from the entrance of his alcove and panic claws inside his throat at the sight of you just standing there, eyebrows raised in surprise, one hand still holding open the privacy curtain. 

It takes his brain a few seconds to catch up with reality, but when it does he hisses out a curse, scrambling into a seated position, hands desperately trying to cover himself despite the whole eyefull you’re also still recovering from. You recover faster than he does though, and you step into the room, letting the curtain fall closed again behind you.

“I brought you this,” You say, pulling the extra blue tewng from your hip and tossing it towards Lo’ak. He makes no attempt to catch it, hands still trying to cover his unaffected, throbbing erection, and the material flutters to the ground at his side. “You left it at the lab when you . . . you know.”

Your eyes rake over his naked form and your hands find a place on your hips. “You seemed like you were having a lot of fun. Who were you thinking about?”

The knowing tone of your voice makes the tips of Lo’ak’s ears burn as they press against his head. 

“You thinking about me, Lo’ak?”

The sound he lets out doesn’t have a meaning - just a short, stifled sound of embarrassment as he tries to force out something. Anything. But the only thing he can manage is a way to quiet and stuttered version of “S-sorry,”

You smirk at his apology, pretty lips curling into a wicked grin as you hum noncommittally. He watches with wide eyes as you saunter around his room, peeking in his personal areas as if you had a right to be there, before you turn and lean back against the wall in front of him.

“Don’t be sorry,” You say, arms crossing over your chest. “Be even,”

Lo’ak’s brows scrunch up, his ears flickering slightly in confusion. “W-what?”

“Be. Even.” You repeat. “You got a private show who knows how many times. Now I want one, with my own front row seat. It’s only fair,”

Lo’ak’s head is spinning. You can’t possibly be saying what he thinks you're saying. You want him to . . . touch himself? With you watching?

“What’s wrong, Lo?” You ask, your voice mocking as you pout at him. “You get off on watching, but not being watched?”

“I just– I-I don’t,”

“Hey,” You interrupt, expression switching from teasing to sincere in a second. “Just relax, okay? Just keep doing what you were doing. Show off for me a little,”

Lo’ak’s breathing is shaky as he steels himself, slowly lowering himself to lie back on the mat. One of his hands moves to uncover himself, balling into a nervous fist against his sternum. His other hand wraps around his cock again, long fingers encircling the thick, hard length as his eyes stay glued to your watching form. 

Your eyes watch hungrily as he gives himself an uncertain stroke, the pretty lavender tip of his cock disappearing under his fist before reappearing again as he holds himself at the base. Your back slides down the wall as you lower yourself to the floor, your legs crossed in front of you as you lean forward for a closer look. 

“Keep going,”

Your demand comes out firm, soft voice caressing his eardrums as the demand goes straight to his cock. His eyes stay locked on your face as he strokes himself again and again, a needy whine threatening to burst from his throat as he watches you watch him. He wishes you could get rid of the mask so he can see your face more clearly, but even slightly obstructed with the glass of the mask, he can see the desire written all over it. 

You desire him. You desire him? The knowledge takes the air from his lungs as he fists his cock faster. He pulls away for a moment so he can spit in his hand and he watches as your eyes follow the movement when he wraps his wet fingers around his cock again, smearing the wetness along the heated skin. 

“Yeah, baby. Get it all wet for me,” Your hands make their way to your top, fingers playing with the feathers there. “You want a little more motivation?”

Lo’ak’s hand pauses on his cock as he watches in awe as you push some of the feathers of your top to the side, perfect round breasts suddenly on display for his eager eyes. It’s a beautiful sight - the look of your perky tits framed by colorful feathers, a few rogue feathers hanging between the valley of your breasts. 

“Ah, ah,” You tisk. “I didn’t say stop.”

He gulps as he starts up his pace again, his fist twisting over the sensitive tip on each upstroke. His quiet moans and groans are like music to your ears, and you wish he would be louder so your human ears can pick up on them better. You want the sounds of his pleasure to fill up the room. You bet he would be so vocal if he would just let himself go.

“Don’t hide your noises,” You tell him. “They’re so pretty, Lo. Be louder for me. They make me so wet,” 

His responding whimper is significantly louder and more desperate as he watches you spread your thighs. You flip the front flap of your tewng over your thigh to keep it out of the way and pull the privacy cover to the side. Lo’ak’s mouth waters at the sight. You weren’t lying - you are wet. He can see the way your folds glisten even from across the small room. 

“Y/n,” He moans, and his cock throbs in his grip. 

“You like what you see, yawne?” 

The use of the Na’vi term of endearment makes his heart pound, and his stomach tightens as he feels the telltale signs of his orgasm approaching. Your fingers dip down into your wetness, sliding along your dripping slit before dipping inside and circling your clit. You’re so wet already that Lo’ak’s able to pick up on the squelching sounds your juices make, ears twitching as your fingers rub against the pulsing nub. Slowly, you run your fingers back down your slit, circling your entrance before pushing inside.

Lo’ak bites out a curse as the squelching sounds get louder, and he spits in his palm again to add it to the mess of precum on his cock just to make it extra wet so he can imagine it’s your pretty cunt he’s thrusting into and not his fist. His hips jerk, trying to fuck his hand faster, and the pressure in his belly is building and building, threatening to snap at any second as he watches you fuck yourself with your fingers, enraptured. 

“You close, Lo’ak?” You ask, breathy.

“Mhm,” He moans. “So close. Going to cum,”

At his admission, you pull your fingers out, curling a wet finger at him in a come-hither motion. “Nuh-uh, not yet. Come here,”

He whines at your words, his body mourning the loss of stimulation as he pauses his hand on his cock. He doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want to stop, but can’t find it in himself to disobey your order. What if you make him stop completely? What if this was just a huge game of payback and you don’t let him cum at all?

You raise your eyebrow at his hesitance, voice low and seductive as you say, “Don’t you wanna taste me first?”

He should be embarrassed by how quickly he rips his hand away and scrambles onto his hands and knees as he gapes at you, desperate. “Please! Y/n, please,”

“Come here,” You say again, and this time, Lo’ak doesn’t hesitate. 

He crawls across the room and is in front of you in a second, and you stand up from the floor as he settles on his heels in front of you. In this position, the size difference is stark. Even sitting back on his heels, he still towers over you. His breathing is heavy as he stares down at you, amber eyes swallowed up by the bottomless pits of his pupils. 

“You can touch me,” You whisper, and he feels something snap inside him.

He leans down, pressing hot kisses against the side of your neck. You hum at the feeling of his lips on your skin. His warm tongue slides against your skin, savoring the taste of you on his taste buds as he licks across your collarbone and, oh, Great Mother, you taste so much better than he’d ever imagined. He breaks contact just for a moment to skip over the places that your top is still covering, mouth latching onto the top of your breast as he bites down lightly on the supple skin, canines digging into the round flesh as you gasp, and then soothing the marks with a gentle kiss. 

“Lo’ak,” You say, your small hand caressing his jaw and angling his face up towards yours. “That’s not where I meant.”

He groans, stealing a quick kiss at your nipple just to feel it before he hauls you up high against the wall. He has you spread out in front of him, one tip-toed foot planted on his thigh for balance while your other leg is thrown over his shoulder. His hands shake from where they’re gripping on to your thigh and calf, nervous excitement ripping through him as he breathes in the smell of your arousal. You look like a goddess above him, a creation so beautiful that sometimes he wonders if he’s actually crazy and he just made you up in his head. But you’re here, above him, spread out for him like the most mouthwatering feast - and he wants to devour you. 

One of your hands cradles the side of his head, sweeping the stray braids away from in front of his eyes, while the other adjusts your tewng and pulls the privacy cover to the side again. Immediately, he digs in - tongue lapping at your soaked folds like a man starved. You taste so sweet, like the most delicious treat, and Lo’ak’s eyes roll back into his head as he greedily gulps down your juices. His tongue flicks against your clit before he wraps his lips around the swollen bud, sucking harshly and returning your high pitched moans with a groan of his own.

“Yes, yes,” You cry. “Feels so good, Lo! So good,”

Your hand moves from the side of his face to fist into the loose braids at the back of his head, beads clanking together as you twist them around your fingers, holding his head against your core as if he would ever dare pull away. His cock throbs, needy and forgotten as it hangs between his thighs. He can feel how precum drips from its tip, beading up on the head before it becomes too much and runs down the underside of his cock. 

The hand on your calf wraps around his aching length instead, stroking quick and rough as he digs his face into your pussy. But all too soon you’re pulling his head away, grip firm on his braids as he’s reluctantly pulled away from your core, and he whines in dismay when you maneuver yourself back down to the floor.

“Relax,” You giggle, laughing at his forlorn expression. “I’ll give it back. Lie down,” You press your hand to his shoulder, guiding him to lay back on the floor as you kneel next to his head. “Keep being a good boy for me, okay?”

He nods frantically, eager to continue to please you. He’ll always be a good boy for you, the best boy. He’d do anything for you if you let him. 

His breathing hitches when you toss your leg over him, thighs straddling his head, puffy pussy just a breath away from his face. His hands grip the tops of your thighs, pressing you down on him as his mouth impatiently latches back onto your core. Your own hands press against his flat stomach, balancing yourself on his body as you gaze out at the long expanse of toned muscled before you. 

Lo’ak’s cock is hard and thick against his belly, precum oozing from the pretty lavender tip and into a puddle just below his belly button. You watch as it jumps occasionally, the line of precum connecting his cock to his stomach even as it lifts up slightly just to settle back down on his stomach. 

You lean forward more, arm reaching out with fingers outstretched and Lo’ak whimpers loudly against your pussy when your fingers make contact with his neglected cock, the vibrations sending shivers through your body as you moan in response. 

“You’re so big, Lo’ak,” You say, hips rocking on his face while your fingers trail lightly over the sticky, swollen head. It twitches against your fingers. “You’d stretch me out so good.”

He whines against your cunt, long fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as his feet plant themselves on the ground. His hips kick up, desperately trying to get more of your touch on his aching cock - but you stay teasing, just the brush of gentle fingertips as they trail up and down the heated length. 

His tongue works against you faster, more and more desperate the more your tiny fingers tease his cock. He can feel the build up of his orgasm rapidly approaching again, and he twists his hips frantically as he wordlessly pleads against your cunt for you to touch him properly. He wants your tiny hand to wrap around his cock like he’s always dreamed about, wants to feel how your fingers can’t even wrap around him completely because you're so small.

But you don’t - instead your fingers make their way back up to the head, rubbing firm circles against the sensitive frenulum, and Lo’ak’s entire body tenses as his orgasm rips through him, rope after rope of release shooting onto his stomach as he cries against your folds. 

You don’t give him anytime to recover, and he’s still shaking through the aftershocks when you hump faster against his face, using his mouth as your own personal toy as you chase after your own orgasm. Your back arches when it hits, thighs clamping down on either side of his head as you ride it out on his tongue, and he must have died at some point during this encounter - he must be dead, because the only way to describe how perfect this is, how amazing you taste when you cum - only this kind of euphoria can be found in whatever release of energy that Eywa promises at the end of life. 

When your orgasm is over, you slowly lift off of Lo’ak’s face and settle down next to him on the floor. He’s still shivering and shaking as you both lay there. He’s exhausted, but his eyes stay open despite how much they want to close and sleep now. He doesn’t want to lose a second of this. What if he falls asleep and this was all just a dream?

But then you look over at him, beautiful and fucked out looking in your afterglow, and a wicked grin stretches across your face. “That was fun. You should come visit me at the lab again. But this time, come through the door this time, yeah?”

**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @chaoticfaelle @nilsavatar @fandomhoe101 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx

[angel-of-the-moons]

Doppelgänger

Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Angst, self-image issues, mentions of childhood trauma, addiction, our mans has had it rough as fuck™

A/N: Brought on by this post from @tarjapearce and the comments i made (I'm sorry i am a ho for some angst sometimes) I'm merging ATSV stuff with comic stuffs because NO WAY IS HIS MOVIE DESIGN LIKE THAT ON PURPOSE WITHOUT IT POSSIBLY COMING UP IN FUTURE MOVIES ASDFGHJKL

Taglist: @tojishugetiddies

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

You came home and it was quiet. Quiet and dark; and already you knew something was up. You left Miguel sleeping so you could attend to some meetings and paperwork at your office, and pick up a few groceries.

Miguel had been acting strange the past few days. You'd asked him if it had something to do with work and he simply shrugged the question aside, like it was a small chip on one of his broad shoulders.

You'd asked him what was bothering him again, and he simply stared at the carpet, muttering something you didn't quite catch, and he went straight to bed.

You were so worried you'd even texted Gabriel on your walk home:

Hey, Gabe...

Heyyyy! If it ain't my favorite brother's girlfriend!

You couldn't help but roll your eyes with a soft snort. You only have one brother, Gabe.

No no, chica, I meant that you're my favorite of any girlfriends he's ever had. 😂

Gabe that sounds a little... Bad. 😬

Does it? Woops! Anyways, what's up? My big dumb, brick-house brother do something to make you mad?

No, Gabe... He's acting weird. Has been for the past few days, and he won't open up to me. I'm worried.

You could see the chat bubble pop up over and over again with '...' signifying that he was in the process of texting. With how many times it popped up and went away you were expecting a bible scripture's length of a text wall.

But what you got instead made your heart sink.

He saw our mom. She... She brought up Tyler.

Oh, god. You knew that Miguel and Conchata had a rocky relationship. Miguel had told you why. It was so bad, even just recalling everything, that you felt Miguel's pain like it was your own.

You also knew that Miguel's biological father, Tyler Stone, was the one that manipulated him, that used him, got him addicted to Rapture and almost killed him...

But it wasn't even the real dose of Rapture. It was simulated. Just another manipulation tactic. It was overhearing that conversation that Miguel found out the truth of his heritage, and you could tell that nugget of knowledge permanently chipped his sense of identity.

Even moreso when he confessed to you about Gabriela--

Your phone pinged.

They fought. It was... It was ugly. I... I didn't know about Tyler. God, chica, I didn't know. Dad was...

You felt your heart flop, knowing poor Gabriel was shielded by Miguel for so long so he didn't have to suffer like he did at the hands of their gaslighting and manipulative mother, his sadistic sperm donor... Miguel wanted nothing more than to protect Gabriel from that pain.

Your fingers flew fast on the little keyboard, a few spelling errors here and there;

God, Gabri im sory you had to fidn out that way

I know. It figures Miguel would have told you, before me, tho. He loves you.

He loves you too, Gabri. God, more than you know. He loves you.

I know. He was trying to keep me safe and out of Mom's drama.

No offense, Gabri, but if I ever see that woman I'm rearranging her face with a shovel.

OMG. I mean... After the things she said to Miggy, I... Kind of want her to at least feel consequences of her actions, y'know?

Oh, she will. Don't worry. Thanks for telling me this, Gabri.

Go cuddle my big brother and tell him I love him, k? Let me know how he's doing.

OMW home now, I'll text you when he's feeling better.

KK, see ya.

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Yeah. You knew for sure Miguel was still heartbroken when you came home after that.

You put the groceries away, a somber expression on your face as a million thoughts went through your head.

God, of course Conchata had to come see Gabriel at the same time Miguel was there. You wouldn't be surprised if either she could have tabs kept on him, just to... to try and lord her power over him somehow, like he was still that scared little boy, holding onto his baby brother, being his shield and buffer from their parents' fights.

That bitch had to have had a hand in Tyler using him the way that he did, that she had to have known about--

Your mind was knocked away from those dark thoughts when you heard glass shatter.

You dropped the bag of apples onto the ground, the fruits tumbling out and rolling across the floor as you made a mad dash to your bedroom.

Noting Miguel wasn't in there, you turned to the adjoining bathroom door, seeing faint light come down from below, small wafts of steam rolling out.

"Miguel?" You frantically called out, knocking on the door and leaning your ear against the smooth metal.

You could hear shuffling and the tinkling of glass shards, as well as the shower running; but no verbal reply.

You knocked on the door again, hurried and a little too hard, your fingers hovering over the control panel.

Before you could push a button, the door slid open.

Miguel was in nothing but a pair of boxers, leaning over your bathroom sink, his hands gripping the marble countertops, threatening to crack the material. Beads of water rolled down his muscular, tanned skin; droplets of water dripped from the ends of his thick, wavy chocolate locks, the natural curls more apparent thanks to the water.

That's when you noticed it. Your bathroom mirror, shattered into a hundred pieces, scattering the counter, floor, and in the sink.

Bright, scarlet droplets were on the floor, steadily building into small puddle from his right hand, his knuckles split, shards of the reflective material sticking out of it.

"I'll pay for it." His voice croaked out, unable to lift his eyes to meet your horrified gaze. "I just--"

"Oh, god! Miggy!" You breathed, reaching out, taking a step towards him, only to wince and hiss when the pieces of broken mirror stabbed the soft, delicate soles of your feet.

You gritted your teeth as the glass crunched, but you grabbed Miguel.

Instantly it was like a switch flipped inside of him, Miguel's head snapped up and he looked down at you, seeing the bloody footprints you now left on your tile.

He looked terrified at what he was seeing. How you just ignored the shards in your body in favor of frantically digging around one of the cabinets for your first aid kit.

"Bebita... I..." Miguel choked out.

When you found it, you killed the shower and stepped into the glass once again, pulling him into your room, and onto your bed, your feet leaving bloody prints as you walked, like macabre rose petals being left in your wake. Miguel had a large enough stride that he was careful to avoid getting any in his feet, but the smell of your blood permeated the air, it made him sick to his stomach. Not with disgust.

With guilt.

Of course, you checked him over first, plucking out the shards of glass from his knuckles and cleaning the cuts out with wound wash, ignoring the blood welling up onto the tile floor of your bedroom from.

You carefully roll his hand as you try to wrap the gauze around his knuckles. "Miggy, can you hold your--"

"I'm sorry." He interrupts.

You looked up at him, and only then do you see his face. Framed in his wet curls, his face was shadowed and haunted, his eyes dark and as tumultuous in a maelstrom of anxiety and fear.

You bring your hand to his cheek, caressing one of his sharp cheekbones with your thumb. "Baby, it's okay. It's just a mirror, I can--"

He shook his head, as if your touch to his face burned him like a hot iron.

He leaned over, grabbing your legs and pulling your feet into his lap so he can assess the damage, and return the favor of cleaning and dressing them.

"You're hurt because of me." He whispered sadly, dabbing the blood away.

"I'm hurt because of the glass, honey." You tell him gently, letting him apply the "honey" to the cuts in your feet, sealing them.

His massive hands encapsulated your ankles, his thumbs rubbing small circles as the rough pads caressed your skin. Like you were made of the delicate gossamer of a butterfly's wing.

He sits like that, not meeting your eyes. And god, did that hurt you so badly. You knew how important eye contact was with Miguel, he almost always went out of his way to keep eye contact when he was conversing with someone. Having him avoid your eyes... hurt.

Because you knew he was hurting.

"Miggy." You breathed. "Talk to me."

You move your feet from his lap and scoot closer to him, moving your face until he locked eyes with you again, and you could see the pain and the tears fill his own as he looked at you; his full, pouty lips trembling in an effort to hold his emotions at bay.

His shoulders dropped low, and Miguel leans forward until he was practically bent in half, clinging to you, burying his face in your chest as he fisted your shirt in his hands.

You rubbed his shoulder with one hand, biting your lip as he softly cried into your blouse, your other hand combing through his messy wet hair.

You stayed like that, for what felt like hours. You weren't sure how long it was exactly, with the blackout curtains drawn and the lights off. The only light that dimly illuminated the room was from your bathroom, and the open door.

He finally calmed enough to speak, to explain why he shattered the mirror.

"...I look like him." Miguel said, his heart in his voice, his soul stripped down and naked with raw pain.

"Mig--"

"God, I look like him. That... that cabrón." He hissed, tugging your shirt in his fists.

"I look like that bastard that... that made me into this." The self-contempt in his voice broke your heart.

You kiss the top of his head, murmuring against him. "No, you don't, baby."

"Yes, I do!" He snapped, pulling himself away from you and throwing himself to his feet. He paced like an angry tiger in a cage, waiting to swat at whatever keeper dared enter his enclosure. He didn't notice that he was stepping into the sticky, dried blood trails you left.

"I have his--his face. His fucking face--" He said, gripping his hair in his hands, tugging as he started to hyperventilate. "My fucking nose, my fucking cheeks, my fucking lips--they're all him! I'm not allowed to be me, every time I look in the mirror I see him! I can't ever get away from him! He's a part of me, he always will be! I fucking look like him!"

You get to your feet, ignoring the throbbing in your soles as you dared to reach out, to touch the pacing tiger.

Your hands smooth up his back, gently, softly; then back down until they wrapped around his mid-section.

You feel him, how tense he is, how his muscles flex at your touch almost like he's bracing himself for some kind of blow that simply will never come from you.

You rest your cheek against his back, feeling how hot his skin was burning.

"Baby. You don't look like him. You aren't him, and you never will be." You whisper.

You plant kisses wherever you could reach, not letting him go, feeling his body shake with each shuddering breath as your soft lips made contact.

"More importantly, Tyler will never be you."

"I--"

You cut him off. "Listen to me... Did Tyler figure out multi-dimensional travel, build a strike force of super-powered people from across the multiverse? Does Tyler, almost every day, work to keep dozens--no, hundreds--of universes safe from monsters?"

He didn't answer.

"And did Tyler Stone protect your baby brother from your mother all these years?"

No answer.

"You are Miguel-goddamn-O'Hara." You tell him. "I love you, with trauma, quirks and all. I love your little scritch-scratches you make, the way your bottom lip pokes out when you pout, your crooked teeth when you smile. I love your ridiculously large body, I love how you hug me. I love the little snores you make when you fall asleep at your desk, how you crinkle your nose when you're about to sneeze.."

You feel his hands slowly rise to touch your arms where they're almost-locked around his larger frame.

"I love how sweet and gentle you are. I love hearing you curse to yourself when you shock yourself with your soldering gun... I love listening to you bicker with Lyla, or complain about one of the other Spiders bugging you." You place more kisses after each sentence; hoping each one plants a seed of love beneath his skin, to bloom into a garden that he can admire and love, not hate for the very skin he was born with out of illegitimacy and infidelity.

"Tyler Stone is not you. He never will be. He will never be as good as you." You sigh against his skin, feeling the goosebumps form in the cold of your room, now that the adrenaline of his anxiety was beginning to fade, and his body became aware of the water that was slowly drying and cooling his skin.

"I love you, Miguel O'Hara. You and no-one else. Don't ever think for a second that you don't have your own identity because of your genes."

He slowly turns in your grasp, looking down at you with raw, unclothed emotion as his hand touches your cheek.

"You're more than that. You're you, and I wouldn't have you any other way." You say, your tone set and jaw tight; every word you spoke carrying a hefty weight of seriousness and honesty.

He smiles, almost sadly as you feel the rough pads of his thumb against your cheek, the little talon there poking you but not breaking the skin.

"...I..." He said, his voice stiff as he swallows the lump in his throat.

"I really will pay for your mirror, you know."

You grin up at him and turn your face so you can kiss the palm of his hand.

"I know you will, Miggy."

"But I am curious... I felt like you were going to keep going with the affirmations." He said, raising an eyebrow slowly.

"Well, the last one..."

"The last one?" Miguel tilted his head down at you quizzically.

You grin at him again, your teeth showing and eyes creasing as you barely manage to reach around him, swatting his ass playfully.

"I also love the fact you have the nicest ass I've ever seen on a man."

He couldn't contain the snort that came out of him, and he reached up to cover his whole face with his other hand.

"Mierda..."

You giggle as you step around him, giving a playful swat to his ass once again as you walk by.

"C'mon, Miguel O'Hara. You got a broken mirror to clean up."

His shoulders lifted as he watched you, his eyes softer than you've ever seen as he smiled.

Yeah. You were right.

He was Miguel O'Hara.

And he was certainly going to pay you back for the smacks to his ass.