#I digressed from the subject at hand

[professional-nutria-enjoyer]

woah ok just found out about james somerton faking his suicide and posting hole on his "secret" alt account and i think it might be some sort of dark kink he has. Its the only explanation i can find of why he keeps doing this type of shit

[nanaslutt]

hello, i hope youre good !

may you please write one day about y/n sending hot pics for satoru ?

sorry if I spoke something wrong, english isnt my first language :] take ur time and have a good day ! 💞

Your english is perfect ml, please enjoy! <3

Contains: fem reader, established relationship, sending nudes, phone sex, mutual masturbation, he talks you through it, praise, DIRTY TALK

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"I don't know Shoko.. I've never sent him anything like this before." You groaned into your pillow, your voice through the phone coming out muffled on her end. "But you want to right?" She pushed, making you raise your head up from the sheets and sigh, "I doooo." You huffed out begrudgingly. "Great! Problem solved, the pictures you sent me were hot, but not too revealing, so you can send him something like that for starters." She replied, making you blush at her compliment.

You had recently bought a new set when you went out with Shoko for a girl's day. You had practically ripped the bag in half when you got home so you could get it on your body faster. Once you had on the garment you were posing left and right, making sure to take some sensual pictures for yourself later. Your boyfriend; Satoru; had texted you in the midst of your shenanigans, telling you how he was on his lunch break, making an idea pop into your head.

You wanted to show your man how good you looked, but thinking about sending Satoru; or anyone for that matter; nudes? That made you a little nervous. You quickly dialed up Shoko, she always knew just what to say, she was your hypewoman after all. After a quick convo she had successsfully pushed you in the direction you truly wanted; that being sending your boyfriend risque pictures while he was at work.

"Let me know how it goes, see ya." Shoko's voice echoed through the phone speaker before the tone indicating the call had ended rang through the room. You took a deep breath and rotated yourself on your bed, flopping your back against the pillows, still dressed in the pretty set, while you scrolled through the pictures you had taken-- trying to pick your favorites.

You settled on three for starters, it was an easy pick, only taking you a couple minutes to assess the best ones for Satoru. The first one you were on your side, body laid across the floor sensually as your arm rested on your hip, giving the viewer's eyes full access to your body. In the second picture, you were on your knees, you had placed your phone on the ground and set it to a timer so you could lean forward, making your thighs crease at the top, as you used to squeeze your breasts together.

The last photo was your favorite. You were sat on the floor, your legs folded and spread, the sheerness of the panties leaving little to the imagination in the lighting, while your hand once again rested against your tit, pushing and groping it in your hand while the other took a picture in the mirror, your phone covering most of you face save for a sliver of a smile that peeked out the side of the phone.

Your heart was racing, you knew Satoru would like the pictures, and you're pretty sure he would find you attractive in a trash bag, but you digressed, opening the chat to your lover.

Satoru <3: finally on lunch, yaga brought donuts today!

The picture attached was of the white-haired man laying back in his chair as he held his shirt up over his stomach to reveal his somehow still toned, but bloated tummy, an empty donut box in the background. Something told you that the donuts might've been for the kids, but Yaga should've known that bringing sweets around Satoru without anything for him was a recipe for disaster.

You laughed to yourself as you shook your head before responding. The two of you bantered back and forth about the subject for a while before he asked you what you were up to right now, which gave you the perfect excuse to send him the pictures. After sending an ominous 'you wanna see?' text, you clicked on the three gold medal winning pictures and sent them his way. You bit your lip between your teeth as you watched the blue bar at the top of the screen slowly slide across it, indicating it was sending.

Seconds before the pictures had been successfully sent, Satoru had started typing back his own response, which made you nervous because it meant he was in the chat and would see the photos sooner. Which is what you wanted, yes, but it didn't make it any less nerve-wracking.

When the little ‘delivered’ popped up underneath your pictures, quickly followed by a ‘read’ you held your breath. The three dots that indicated his typing stopped, then started, then stopped again. Uncertainty filled your body, did he not like the pictures? Was he mad you sent them while he was working?

You were snapped out of your stupor when your phone started vibrating in your hand, Satoru’s contact picture and name lighting up the phone as it rang. You quickly answered his call, readying yourself to apologize for being out of line, but before you could do so you heard a loud drawn out groan resonate from the speaker.

“You’re such a tease.” He pouted on the other side of the line, “I only have 5 minutes left on my lunch break and you just made me so fucking hard.” He groaned, making you sigh in relief as you registered his words. “I’m sorry Satoru, I felt pretty and wanted you to see,” you faux apologized, biting your lip as you looked around your room.

“And you do look so fucking pretty baby, that’s the problem.” He sighed, spinning himself around in his chair while he stared down at his erect cock that was tenting up his pants. He looked over at the large clock on his wall, which he mainly used for decoration, before sighing into the receiver. "Thank you, Satoru," You blushed. "I was going to send them when you texted me that you were on your lunch but our conversation wasn't really.. in that mood" You explained.

You heard his signature laugh from the other end, "Baby, I don't care if I just told you the school got attacked by a hoard of curses, if you have sexy pictures to show me you better not keep them from me." You rolled your eyes, you both knew he was exaggerating and you would never do such a thing, but his words made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside still. "Sorry Satoru, is it too late to tell you that I took more than the ones I sent you?" You giggled, biting your lip when you heard him groan in response.

"Fuckk, please send me those pictures baby~" He wined, reaching over to his wireless headphones as he popped onto into his ear so he could still hear you while he oggled your pictures, he wouldn't want anyone to hear this conversation after all. You were one step ahead of them, the delivered notification once again popped up on your screen as you sent him three more pictures, all more risque than the last.

In one your back was arched in the mirror, showing off the pretty decoration on the back of the panties. Another, you completely abandoned the bra of the set, leaving the panties on as you covered your nipples with your fingers, and one of the same vein of you holding the phone over your body while you lay on the bed, your arm squishing your tits in the bra together while it cupped over your panty-less cunt.

"Oh you're trying to kill me, look at that fucking arch." He groaned, covering his mouth with his hand as he took in the photos. "Baby you look so cute in that last one." He complimented, making you blush and giggle as you whispered out your thanks to him. He looked over to the clock once more, it was a couple minutes over the time he was supposed to be back and teaching the kids, but he figured if he was already late, what was a couple more minutes?

"Answer that," Satoru instructed, referring to the FaceTime request that popped up on your phone from him. You accepted it quickly, pulling your phone from your ear as you slid the green button over, smiling fondly when his flushed face popped into view. "You're so handsome, Satoru." You complimented, feeling your stomach start to tie itself in knots with how debauched he looked from just looking at the pictures you sent him, he was so clearly aroused.

"Oh shit, you still have it on?" He said, biting his lip as he set his phone down on the desk in front of him, giving you a full veiw of his body as he leaned back once more and startaed rubbing himself over his slacks. "Satoru what are you doing?" You asked with a laugh, surely it had been longer than five minutes now, he needed to get back to teaching. "Shh baby, they wont miss me for a couple more minutes ill make it quick." You imediately picked up on what he was insinuating.

"Look at how hard I am baby, I can't go out there looking like this." He wined, tipping his head to the side against his chair as he looked at you with a pout. "You're gonna take care of me too right?" You asked, giggling before you set up your own phone on your bed, using some pillows to stabilize it. The white-haired man scoffed before he started unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out, "Can't believe you just asked me that." He said, semi-faux offense plastering itself on his face, "Was there ever a time I've left you unsatisfied?" He asked, slapping his cock against his free hand when it was finally unobstructed from his too-tight pants.

You sat back on your heels and started massaging your tits in your hands, making the warmth in your stomach grow as you pretended to think, looking around the room as you hummed. "Oh, so you already forgot how I made you cum in under a minute before work yesterday morning?" He said confidently, beginning to stroke himself as he watched you push your covered tits together. "I barely have to touch you and you're a squirming mess, dont play with me." He huffed out a laugh, bringing his other hand down to massage his balls in his hand, really giving you a show.

"But you're not here right now, Satoru." You retorted, sliding one of your hands down your body slowly, making your way down to your cunt. "Maybe not, but just my words are making you all wet, huh?" He asked knowingly, pulling his lip between his teeth as he watched you tease yourself. You nodded, making him coo at you as you finally made it to your cunt as you started to rub small circles over your clit.

"Get comfortable for me baby, keep the set on." He instructed. You lay back against the pillows and spread your legs. The crotch of the panties had a little patch over your entrance that he couldn't see through, but every other part of the fabric was almost completely sheer, except for the fact that your wetness was seeping through them little by little and making them see through the more you teased yourself.

"Play with your nipples while you rub yourself baby." He groaned, trying to keep his voice relatively quiet as he was in his office. "This is so dirty." You giggled, following his instructions. You rubbed small circles against your panty-clad clit while you pinched your nipple through the fabric of the unpadded bra.

The two of you have tried many things sexually throughout the entirety of your relationship together, but somehow, have never thought of getting off together over the phone. When Satoru was gone on missions the two of you would send dirty messages back and forth, saying how bad you missed each other, but nothing to this extent. This was opening a whole new world for the both of you, and it would be something you would definitely do again.

"Good fucking girl. Goddd, what I wouldn't give to bend you over right now and fuck you into the bed." He groaned, his strokes picking up pace while he watched your body jerk and twitch under your ministrations. "Yeah?" You encouraged, rubbing yourself faster and harder as your cunt clenched around nothing, aching for him to fill you up.

"Yes baby, want you to fuck yourself back on my cock too, wanna watch your little pussy swallow up my dick." He continued, rambling as the wet strokes on his dick emanated louder through the room. "Pull your panties aside and touch yourself, gotta see your pretty pussy." He grit through his teeth, as he tried to keep his eyes from rolling back in his had. You did as told, pulling the fabric aside you exposed your twitching clit and pulsing hole, a string of your arousal that connected to the panties failed to excape his eyes, making Satoru's cock twitch.

"Touch yourself, baby, pretend it's me touching you." He groaned, letting his jaw drop as he watched your fingers come in contact with the little bud, beginning to rub quick circles against it, just like he always does. "L-like this Toru?" You asked, needing him to praise you right now. "Just like that baby, doing so good for me, so fucking perfect." He groaned, shaking his head back and forth as he watched your smaller fingers work yourself through your orgasm.

"Shit, wanna feel your cunt squeezing me so bad, can see her twitching." He whined, making you blush in embarrassment at how exposed you were. Satoru's leg started bouncing against the floor at how fast he was working himself up. "P-please, fuck me Toru', fuck me-" You whimpered, getting lost in the sensation as you tipped your head back against the pillows and dropped your other hand down to the opening of your pussy, slowly sliding them inside your walls and starting up a blissful pace as you curled them up towards your sweet spot.

"Yes fuck your pussy for me, baby, yesyesyes." The man rambled, his back beginning to arch off the chair with how close he was. The squelching emitting from your cunt was going to send him over the edge, he so desperately wanted to pull your inadequate fingers out and lick them clean before he replaced them with his own. "Faster baby, cmon, get yourself there." He begged, slowing his strokes against his cock to let you get closer to your orgasm so the two of you could cum together. "I-I'm fuck S-satoru- Right there- right there-" You moaned, losing yourself in your fantasy as you fucked your fingers harder and deeper into yourself.

"Yeah? Right there? You like when I fuck you right there?" He slurred, clenching his teeth together as he picked up his pace once more, beginning to fuck his hips up into his hand. "Yes Toru- G-gonna- gonna cum-" You wined, your voice raising in pitch as you dropped your chin down to the screen in front of you, watching the show he was so kindly putting on for you as the sight pushed you over the edge.

"M-me too- Gonna fill you up cutie- fucking- take it-" Satoru groaned, hot ropes of cum spurting from his dick as his torso curled in slightly, his abs clenching and body jerking with the force of his orgasm. He watched intently as you snapped your legs shut around your hand, he saw the muscles in your forearm moving, praising you for working yourself through it as wave after wave of your high crashed over you. "Good girl, good fucking girl." He praised, slowing his strokes on his cock as he worked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

"S-shit" Your body relaxed against the sheets once more, your legs staying shut as you relished in the friction your closed thighs brought to your cunt as you came down from your orgasm. You heard your boyfriend giggle, dropping your knees down to the side you looked down at the screen and noticed that he was wiping his cock clean and tucking himself back into his pants. "Whew, 3 minutes, and I didn't even touch you." He praised himself, making you laugh and roll your eyes at him as you sat up to grab your phone in your hand and lay it against the side of the bed with you as you laid down.

"You could say the same for me too you know." you retorted, making him smirk. "Yeah, you could, made me make a huge fucking mess." He giggled, staring at you lovingly through the phone. "You look beautiful." He said, making hearts practically form in your eyes as you thanked him. "Clean yourself up before you fall asleep, I'll be home soon, okay?" He said, raising his eyebrows at you as he waited for your answer before he ended the call.

"Okay Satoru, hurry please." You added the two of you said your goodbyes, he blew you an animated-looking kiss before he hung up the call. You sighed, dropping your hand against the sheets as you smiled to yourself, you couldn't wait for him to get home.

After giving yourself a couple more seconds to lie there, you sat up, heading his words as you started to get yourself cleaned up. You paused in your ministrations when your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up as Satoru's name popped up on the screen. You decided to check his message before you left for the bathroom, your jaw dropped and your body tensed when you opened his message.

There was a picture of Satoru's impressive-sized softening cock that rested on his hand, his length and hand alike covered in his cum with a message attached. When did he even have time to take that picture?

Satoru <3: Keep the set on till I get home please~

[morganbritton132]

You probably get this all the time, and I don't know why I only thought about this now, but I'm suddenly fascinated by the idea of a government employee who knows about the Upside Down that has been tasked with keeping an eye on Eddie's TikTok page and just constantly being so frustrated

I never get this but I have thought about it at length!!! Lol.

I just picture one overworked and underpaid agent being tasked with the whole *hand waving* Hawkins Situation.

There used to a time when the Hawkins Project was a coveted position given to the best agents with the highest clearance, but now… Now all the gates to the other world have been closed. There’s been no activity in three decades. Brenner’s dead. The Russians defuncted their projects. The girl – Eleven or Jane, or whatever – hasn’t blown anything up since the nineties.

The Hawkins job is a babysitting job with CIA-level clearance, and it’s just… it was supposed to be a cakewalk but. There’s just… there are so many of them.

And for a while, they were spread all over the country.

One of them is a US Senator now and she called the head of the FBI ‘a bitch’ and ‘a coward’ on a hot mic last week, and maybe.

Maybe for the sake of national security and their own sanity, maybe this agent pulled a few strings and dotted a few more I’s than they’re authorized to just to get Lucas Sinclair, Maxine Mayfield-Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, Nancy Wheeler, and Robin Buckley back in Chicago.

Maybe they did that. There’s no paper trail, but maybe they did.

It’s easier to keep track of a ‘party’ of people if most of them are in the same state.

This Party – as they fondly call themselves – barely qualified as a threat anymore. They are barely a concern at this point. Only a few of them are considered dangerous enough to require anything more than the occasional check-in. Those people being Jane Hopper, James ‘Jim’ Hopper, Nancy Wheeler, Murray Bauman, and – much to this agent’s annoyance – Edward Munson.

Eddie wouldn’t be a cause for concern if he wasn’t so goddamn loud. He is in no way a threat to national security but the CIA doesn’t love when people allude to a defuncted Cold War project that resulted in an inter-dimensional serial killer murdering a bunch of small town high school students.

This agent does not believe that Eddie Munson knows what an NDA is or that he signed one.

It is one thing to write songs about demon bats and hell spilling into small town Americana or to make your album cover resemble the charred remains of Henry Creel’s disfigured body (‘yeah’ the agent thinks, ‘you’re not that slick, Munson’) but it is something else to announce to your millions of TikTok followers that you got rabies in a hell dimension.

This agent does not have enough pull to persuade Congress to outright ban TikTok and actually thinks that a TikTok ban would be an overreach of government control, but damn if it would not have made their life easier. Though they fear that Munson would just go to YouTube and the idea of longer content makes them shiver.

And by the way, this agent expected better from Steven Harrington!

This agent liked Steve! He was one of their favorites!!

Steve didn’t make waves. He lived a quiet life, paid his taxes, and barely had a social media presence. He was an absolute dream to be monitoring until Eddie downloaded that cursed clock app.

Steve was never viewed on the same threat level as Jane Hopper or Murray Bauman, but he was a closely monitored subject due to his long-term injuries and his time spent in the alternate dimension and the Russian bunker under Starcourt Mall. Despite close monitoring, there is no note in his file of any digression until Eddie started shoving Tiktok in his face.

This agent sits in their office at the CIA’s Chicago location.

In the basement, at the end of a long dusty corridor, beneath a buzzing fluorescent light, they get a notification on their computer. It’s from Tiktok, and this agent breathes in slowly. They rub at the forming headache between their brows and names it Eddie Munson.

They click the notification, waits a second for the shitty wifi to bring them to the app, and watches as Steve Harrington says, “Technically we’re time travelers.”

And they sigh.

[projectionistwrites]

FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 1

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Steven Grant x afab!psychologist!reader (8.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, intense overstimulation, non-ejaculatory orgasm, cumplay, cum eating, praise kink, dirty talk, use of the stoplight system) NOTES: steven is my baby. he deserves the world. i hope i did his character justice. DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

← previous part | next part →

CASE STUDY: STEVEN GRANT

ROLE IN SYSTEM: Caretaker / Internal Self-Helper

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Preoccupied

CHARACTERISTICS: timid, introverted, sensitive, unassertive; inferiority complex; the epitome of a people pleaser.

SPLIT FROM HOST: assumedly a result of simultaneous emotional and physical abuse from mother.

TRAUMA RESPONSE: alter likely emerged as a way to maintain the childhood innocence of the host; a personification of the word 'hope'.

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: shy, reserved, submissive, responsive, doting; views relationship as transactional (i.e. his only value is derived from what he can provide to a partner, whether that be physically, fiscally, materially, or emotionally); incredibly receptive to praise and validation.

Silence.

It filled the room and weighed heavy in the air—only interrupted by the buzzing of the filter in Gus’ fish tank near the center of the apartment.

You swallowed.

Why did it have to be Steven first?

You knew why. You’d made the decision deliberately, carefully—Steven was the softest, most vulnerable and hesitant. The most emotionally mature, but also the most emotionally fragile. Sensitive, caring, empathetic, loving—he really, truly cared. That’s why he had to go first. This was more than just an excuse to have sex with you—this was intimacy, passion, a closeness he so desperately craved. And you knew, deep down, he’d be comparing himself to his other alters. Envying their confidence, their forwardness, their unapologetic sexual prowess. Steven had always felt inferior—you needed to prove to him that that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

But still. As much as you cared for him, as much as you were looking forward to getting to know him physically, in that moment, you desperately wished for a hint of Marc’s initiative, or even a sliver of Jake’s assertiveness.

Steven was sat on the couch, hunched over, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Nervous energy pulsed from his body in waves—his clear stress wasn’t doing anything to help with your own trepidation.

You shuffled beside him, crossing one leg over the other at the ankles. You drew in a breath.

“Do you... do we need to go over anything again?”

He flinched at your intrusion on the silence—without sparing you a glance, he offered a brief shake of his head.

“Well, I think we should go over it one more time, just in case. So. Today is—is about you. Whatever you say goes. Obviously, I have my limits, but, I mean, I really don’t see that being much of a problem with any of you—except maybe Jake...”

You digressed, but the mention of his alters clearly ruffled Steven’s feathers, even if he hid it well. You continued.

“And—and you’ll be fronting the whole time. No co-consciousness, or interruption from the others. Right?”

Steven nodded again, more firmly this time.

“Okay. And lastly—well, I’ve thought about it, and—and I think we should be fine without condoms.”

That got Steven’s attention. His head turned to you, eyes wide with bewilderment.

“What?”

You looked away abashedly, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I just—I’ve got the implant, and well—Marc gave me documentation confirming that you’re negative for any STI’s, which—so am I. So I figure—unless you’re gonna be having sex with anyone else in the time this experiment is being conducted, then—then I think we should be fine... for now.”

“You told us we had to be abstinent in the week between each experimental window.”

You laughed at this, amused at the incredulity in his voice.

“Oh, so you were planning on seeing someone else in between, then?”

His face flushed with alarm as he attempted to backtrack.

“Wha—no! No, I didn’t mean—you just—you said we should refrain from doin’ anything, as in—anything. So I just—”

“Relax, Steven, I’m just teasing you.”

You giggled, reaching to grip his bicep reassuringly. Your fingers making contact with his body seemed to jostle him—he stared down at the place your fingers wrapped around his arm, electricity crackling from your fingers and lighting a fire in his belly. He swallowed.

His sudden attention to your presence grounded you back into reality as well. You felt the taut muscles of his bicep flex beneath your hand, the parting of Steven’s lips and fluttering of his lashes making your breath stumble.

When he looked up at you, finally, his eyes were dark—lustful, desirous. Still, there was a sense of restraint within him, his diffidence preventing him from moving unto you further. You realized that you would likely have to make the first move.

“Steven.”

You spoke softly, drawing him in.

“Are you—do you feel ready?”

For a moment, he looked terrified, like a deer caught in headlights. He glanced away from you for a moment, trying to reason with himself, to will the anxiety away. You squeezed his arm.

“You don’t have to do this, Steven, really. It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“I want this.”

“But Steven, really, it’s alright—”

“No, you don’ understand—I really, really want this.”

His words were breathy, but certain, the desire in his tone undeniable. You felt your breath hitch at his confession, and before either of you had time to worry about it anymore, you closed the gap between you, pushing yourself up against his side and tilting your head so your lips met his. He whined into your mouth, his initial hesitance wearing off and making way for his insatiable hunger for your touch, your taste, you.

His hands reached to grip the back of your head, fingers threading in your hair as he pulled you closer, forcing your lips to meld against his deeply. You leaned into him, allowing yourself to shift into his lap, your thighs straddling his. As you settled your weight onto him, he audibly groaned as your core pressed against the hardening tent in his pants. Your hands traveled up his chest and along his shoulders as your tongue explored his mouth. He fought back with equal fervor, and you could sense that there was a hint of desperation in him—as if he was finally acting upon the months worth of repressed sexual tension between the two of you.

You pulled away with a gasp, coming up for air as you lifted your chin slightly, away from the chase of his lips. Instead, they began a sloppy assault on your throat, mouthing and teething at the supple flesh of your neck and down into your collarbone. You let out a breathy moan as Steven lavished your skin with attention, quickly gaining the confidence to suck a mark into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You keened.

“God, Steven.”

The sound of his name falling from your lips was heaven. He pulled you back down for another searing kiss, and you offered an experimental nip to the swell of his bottom lip. He groaned.

“Christ, you’re a minx.”

His voice was throaty, gravelly, and you giggled at his comment as he pressed kisses to the corners of your mouth and the surrounding flesh of your cheeks.

“Should we... do you want to move to the bed?”

You asked quietly, and the man stiffened, clearly enticed by the proposal.

“Yes. Gods, yes.”

You regretfully pulled yourself from his lap and he followed immediately after, reaching for your hand as you guided him back towards his bed. It was neatly made, the corners tucked in and the blankets pressed. For some reason, it made you want to cry. You’d been at his flat plenty of times before, but never had you once seen his bed made up so tidy. He did that for you.

As you reached the end of the bed, you hesitated. You had taken the lead, carefully easing Steven into the interaction, but now, you needed to see what he wanted. You looked to him.

“What—where do you want me?”

He swore he almost blacked out at the sheer compliance that your tone offered. He had to squeeze his eyes shut tight in an effort to slow the rapidly building arousal in his groin—you hadn’t even fucking touched him yet.

“Would you—could you just lay down f’me, love?”

You smiled at him gratefully, offering a small nod at you followed his careful instruction. You shuffled up towards the head of the bed, turning to lie flat on your back with your head propped against the pillows. You looked at Steven expectantly—he was just watching you, fists slowly clenching and unclenching at his sides. Christ, you were a sight to beheld.

Cautiously, Steven lowered onto his hands and knees and crawled up towards you, allowing himself to hover over your body with his own, his waist slotting between the parting of your legs. He rested on his elbows, forearms framing your head as he gazed down at you. The sheer reverence and devotion in his eyes was almost too much to bear.

“Bloody hell, you’re gorgeous.”

He mumbled, fingers moving to stroke your hairline, tracing the curvatures of your face. You smiled softly before tilting your head upwards to close the small space that remained between you. These kisses were softer—slow, gentle, repeated slides of his lips against yours. It made you feel lightheaded.

You reached for the hem of his jumper.

“I—can I?”

You questioned against his lips, and he nodded slowly, sitting upright to help you pull the top up and over his head. He flung it to the side carefully, and you spread your hands out against the warmth of his torso, the ring finger on your left hand just barely brushing his right nipple. He hissed as the feeling of your cold hands pressed into his abdomen, but at the same time, the sensation was intoxicating. You let your fingers slide up towards his chest, skating across both of his hardened nipples before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back to you. He happily obliged, malleable under your touch, but you could feel his fingers twitching as if desperate to touch you. You pushed him back slowly, reaching to take off your own shirt.

“Wait.”

Steven panicked, and you froze, a flash of hurt cresting your face. But he just smiled gently.

“Can—let me.”

He offered, and you laid back, letting his fingers skim the flesh of your stomach as he gripped the hem and pulled the fabric away from you. You sat up briefly to allow him to pull it completely off, revealing your simple white lace bra beneath it. You watched him drink you in, completely infatuated. His hands skated up your sides, over the curve of your hip and across your ribs, but they halted before they reached any further. You nodded in encouragement.

“It’s okay, Steven. You can touch me.”

A whimper escaped his mouth as he slowly reached up the palm at your breast, still contained in the cup of your bra. He could feel the peak of your nipple through the fabric as he massaged the flesh carefully, kneading and squeezing. The sigh you let out spurred him on, and he reached behind you towards the clasp, eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a warm smile and nod, and his fingers worked to unclip the material beneath you. After a few brief seconds of his fumbling, his brows furrowed in frustration.

“What the—bollocks, why’s it so bloody hard to undo?”

Your saccharine giggle melted his annoyance as you offered him assistance, reaching behind you to unlatch the hooks. When it was finally unclasped, the cups loosening their hold on your breasts, he let out a shaky breath, gripping the straps and watching them glide down your arms until you were topless beneath him.

His movements were slow, deliberate, as he watched your body react to his touch. Tracing beneath the swell of your left breast, dancing across the valley between them, repeating the movement on the right side. Goosebumps trailed in his wake as he stared, utterly entranced at the softness of your skin and the rhythm of your breathing.

His eyes met yours once more, and stayed there as he slowly leaned down and pulled your right nipple into his mouth. You mewled at the action, back arching just slightly as his other hand came to cup your other tit, massaging it gently as he sucked at your flesh. He switched sides, lavishing your other nipple with equal attention, and even offering an experimental nip to the swollen bud, earning a cry from you—a mix between a sharp pain, quickly soothed with the swipe of his tongue.

You hardly noticed when his lips began pressing kisses lower across your chest, your breasts, across the expanse of your stomach, until his lips were skating over your navel, just above the button of your jeans. His dark eyes found yours, and he offered you a silent question, to which you immediately nodded. His trembling fingers reached to undo the button—with which he had much more success than your bra—and pulled the zipper down. As he slowly coaxed the fabric away from your skin, he pressed two hot kisses against each of your hip bones before pulling the pants completely off and discarding them nearby.

His hands roamed the newly exposed skin of your thighs, fingers creating divots in the soft flesh with his firm grip. He leaned down and pressed his lips against your calf, sliding them upwards until he reached your inner thigh. You whimpered at his proximity to where you needed him most, but he evaded you by switching to mirror the same path on your other side. Your toes curled in frustration.

“Steven.”

You huffed, head thrown back, and his head popped upwards, eyes wide with concern.

“Stop teasing.”

His gaze softened, and you felt his lips press right above your pubic bone, where the waistband of your panties was settled.

“Sorry, m’love, I couldn’t help it. I’ll make it better, I promise.”

His fingers gripped the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down your legs, successfully leaving you completely bare beneath him. You had half the mind to feel insecure at the exposure, but when you caught sight of the look on Steven's face, his eyes transfixed on the sopping folds of your cunt, any hesitance was thrown out the window.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He whispered, letting the pointer finger on his left hand just barely graze between your pussy lips to gather some of your wetness, causing your hips to jolt. He let out a short ‘ha’ sound at your reaction to his touch.

“Is this—s’this all f’me?”

He looked at you again, lips parted and eyes hooded. You nodded vigorously.

“Yes, Steven, yes—all for you.”

He rewarded you with a groan, his finger offering another, firmer swipe through your folds, easily sliding through with the slick of your arousal. The tip of his finger caught on the hood of your clit and your hips jumped again. Instead of removing his finger, he slid it back downwards, slowly circling the entrance of your pussy with careful ministrations. Before you could even ask, he pushed his middle finger deep inside you, curling forward, and almost instantly, the pad of his digit nudged at the most sensitive part of you. You cried out at the abrupt sensation, hips unconsciously grinding down against his hand. He smiled wickedly.

“Ah—there you are.”

He mumbled to himself, repeating the motion once more to ensure he had located the spot where your sensitivity peaked. Again, your body followed the movement of his hand, and he easily added a second finger, slowly beginning to pump them in and out of you, all while continuing the well-received come-hither motion. You squeezed your eyes shut, core muscles clenched as pleasure spread from your cunt upwards, and then his thumb found your clit and you were reeling.

“Oh, fuck, Steven, shit—oh God, I can’t, m’gonna—”

His free hand came up to stroke your hair tenderly, eyes peeling away from where they were watching where his fingers sank into you to ogle at the face you'd make as you climaxed.

“That’s it, love. Doin’ so well. C’mon, give it to me.”

Your orgasm reached its peak, toes curling and back arching as you let out a salacious, pornographic moan, thrusting in time with Steven’s diligent fingers as he coaxed every last drop of pleasure from your dripping folds. Your skin buzzed with sensitivity as the waves of stimulation rippled through you—your breathing was labored when you came down from your high, sinking back into the mattress and grounding yourself back in reality.

Steven pressed a kiss to your lips, which you accepted gratefully, although your energy was significantly less than his—he didn’t seem to mind. He pulled away, just barely, noses brushing together in a moment of intimacy. You felt dizzy.

“So good, Steven—make me feel so good.”

You rambled, hot breath fanning across his face. He glowed at your praise, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. Even after your first orgasm, your hunger for him was nowhere near sated. Your walls were clenching around nothing, desperate for the hot drag of his cock inside of you.

Something resembling a whimper came from the back of your throat, and Steven’s eyes found yours, softening.

“I know, darling, I know. S’alright, I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”

Your fingers trailed down his stomach and covertly ghosted over the skin right atop the waistband of his jeans. Fuck, he still had his jeans on?

You reached for the button, and Steven took the hint, pulling them off of himself rather ungracefully and tossing them to the side. He was left in just his boxers, and when your hand stroked over the hard outline of his cock within them, he hissed, almost as if he were in pain. He recoiled from your touch just slightly, and you felt brief concern at the reaction. He squinted one eye open at you, wincing.

“Careful, please, love, I—don’t want this to end too quickly.”

“Whatever you want, Steven, I’m yours.”

You breathed, fingers caressing the side of his face and beneath his jawline. He grunted at your words, still fighting to maintain control of his body. It only served to turn you on more. When your fingers once more reached for the band of his boxers, he interrupted you with a kiss.

“Patience, love, s’alright.”

"Want you so bad."

You cried against his mouth, absolutely desperate, and you felt the stutter of his exhale as he pulled away.

“I know, I know, but I—Gods, ’m sorry, but I just have to taste you.”

You barely had time to process his words before his head was between your thighs, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the inner flesh between them. Your eyes fluttered closed just as he licked a long, experimental stripe between your folds, making you jerk up towards him involuntarily.

Your cunt was puffy and swollen from your previous orgasm, but Steven wasted no time diving in. He let the tip of his tongue dance around your bundle of nerves, suckling it into his mouth and humming at the taste. The vibrations traveled all the way through you, and you moaned, head thrown back in ecstasy. You tried to force your legs from caging him in, but when he noticed the strain in your muscles, he tucked his arms beneath your thighs and let your knees rest on his strong shoulders, allowing him an even better angle with which to pleasure you.

He changed course, tongue now prodding at your entrance, pushing in and out carefully and slowly. At the feeling of your walls clenching, Steven jostled just slightly, the bridge of his nose rubbing against your clit just right. You cried out, fingers flying to fist at his dark curls, pulling him back in against you.

“Fuck, do that again, Steven, please.”

Steven wasn’t one to deny you of what you wanted. He obliged, repeating the motion, his tongue penetrating you rhythmically and his nose pressed against your clit in a way that had you seeing stars. You thighs tightened around his head, and you felt more than you heard the groan that it pulled from him. You were suddenly teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

“God, Steven, gonna make me cum, don’t stop, please—”

Steven maintained his pace, smart enough to know not to speed up or slow down or change up his rhythm at all as your toes curled. You briefly opened your eyes, and the sight in front of you toppled you over the cliff—Steven’s dark eyes staring up at you, the lower half of his face buried in your cunt, his hips rutting up against the mattress unconsciously as he watched you come undone. You practically sobbed as the shockwaves overwhelmed you, your thighs squeezing Steven’s head and holding him in place as you tugged at his hair. He happily lapped up your arousal, the taste of you lingering on his tongue when he finally pulled away after you had stopped squirming.

You tasted yourself on his lips when he kissed you, and the sight of your slick coating his chin and smeared across his cheeks was one of the most attractive things you’d ever seen. You smiled at him with hooded eyes, still coming down from your high.

“Please, will you fuck me now, Steven?”

You pleaded, and Steven groaned, pressing his still-covered cock against the heat of your pussy.

“Oh, yes, please, can I?”

He asked for confirmation, because of course he did, he’s Steven, and you nodded feverishly, watching with lustful eyes as he pulled his boxers down, his length finally released from the confines of the fabric. It stood at full height, long and big but not too thick, and you practically felt yourself drooling at the sight. His head was flushed a deep reddish purple, sheened with precum that had accumulated there. There was a prominent vein that ran up the underside of his shaft, and all you wanted to do was run your tongue along it. Steven caught you staring and grimaced, moaning lowly.

“Christ, darling, you keep lookin’ at me like that and ’m not gonna be able to last.”

His hand reached down and gave a few strokes to his cock, pumping it as he moved in towards you. He leaned down over you once again, eyes finding yours, and you felt the tip rub up and down your folds a few times. Steven’s lips were parted in pleasure, his breathing ragged. You felt the head of his cock barely breach the entrance of your pussy.

“Is this—are you sure?”

He asked you one final time, fingers reaching to stroke your hair. Instead of answering, you pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, and slowly, slowly, he pushed into you.

The groan that escaped him was hellish, sinful, practically animalistic as he sheathed himself within you, pushing in to the hilt until he was buried completely in the warmth of your walls. Your eyes never left his face, absolutely living for his expressions of pleasure—his pinched brows, parted lips, heavy breaths. His eyes were squeezed shut as he held himself there for a moment, offering you time to get settled. You didn’t need time. He had opened you up plenty, and your wet channel practically swallowed him with need.

“Alright?”

He breathed, checking to see if you were experiencing any discomfort. You nodded at him and offered a roll of your hips upward, your clit rubbing up against his pubic bone deliciously. He whimpered, pulling his cock out just enough before rocking back into you. You mewled, pressing your face into his shoulder as he repeated the motion, pulling out a bit more each time as he gained confidence and momentum. Soon, he was thrusting into you steadily, each move punctuated by barely audible ‘uh, uh, uh’ sounds from his lips as he lost himself in the feeling of you.

“Yes, Steven, fuck. Fucking me so well, such a good boy.”

That awoke something in him, and his pace faltered just barely, hips stuttering as he let out a high-pitched whine.

“Shit, shit, don’t—you can’t just—I’m not gonna last, Y/N, fuck.”

The look on his face was pained, sweat sheened on his forehead from how hard he was restraining himself. You wanted—you needed to see him fall apart.

“Want you to cum for me, Steven.”

You hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, and he whimpered, shaking his head as he continued pounding into you.

“No, please, not yet, want—want you to cum on my cock.”

He sounded desperate, frantic, but you could feel within yourself that you weren’t going to get there soon, and he couldn’t hold out much longer. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him into you as you cradled his face in your hands, forcing his eyes on yours.

“Need you to cum, Steven, please—please, please, need you to cum for me—”

You clenched your muscles, walls clamping down on him, and with a sharp cry of your name, his cum spilled deep inside you, cock fully nested in your cunt as his spend coated your walls and filled you with warmth. His hips kept thrusting into you, almost of their own volition, forcing his seed deeper and deeper into you as he grunted with each move, face contorted in a look of sheer bliss.

Your hands were stroking his back, fingers tracings patterns on the soft skin as he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in the crook on your neck, his cock still sheathed within you.

“Good boy.”

You whispered repeatedly, lips pressed to his temple as he caught his breath and tried to slow the rapid thumping of his heart.

“Such a good boy.”

He let out a sigh, nose pressed into the side of your neck as he closed his eyes, allowing himself a few moments to sit in the moment and really feel it. The softness of your body beneath him, the comforting swirl of your fingers on his back, the quiet hum of praise eliciting from your lips. He wanted to live in this moment forever.

You shifted, just slightly, from beneath him, and he immediately jumped into action. He pressed a chaste peck to your lips before pulling out of you slowly, taking a second to appreciate the view of his cum leaking out of you before he made his way to the bathroom, grabbing a warm wet washcloth to clean you up. When he came back, he just had his boxers on, but the toned taupe of his skin still made you blush. His eyes regarded you warmly, reverently, as he wiped away both of your combined arousals from your folds, touch gentle and careful. When he was done, he reached onto the floor to grab his jumper, sitting back up and offering it to you. You smiled graciously, holding your arms in the air like an expectant child as Steven slipped it over your head, pulling your arms through and straightening it down over your body.

God, you looked good in his clothes.

He crawled beside you, nestling in next to you, body curling to fit the curvature of your side. His head found its place in the crook of your neck, the smell of your skin sweet, and he hummed in contentment, relaxing into you. You smiled softly, reaching up to stroke his hair.

“Is... Is this what you’d normally do after sex?”

You asked carefully, hesitantly, afraid to lose the intimacy of the moment. Steven bristled at your words, just slightly, before he sank further into your embrace.

“I mean... in what little experience I have, yeah, I’d say so.”

He offered, voice laced with grogginess, his eyelids drooping. You giggled quietly at his sudden exhaustion, finding the sight quite endearing.

“So you want me to stay, then?”

He lifted his head at your question, worry reflecting in his big brown eyes.

“Did—do you not want to?”

He asked hurriedly, preparing himself for your rejection, but you shook your head defensively.

“No, no! I’m just—this is about you, and what you want out of sex. Do you... I mean, would you expect me to spend the night?”

Steven’s stare was reminiscent of a puppy as he looked up at you, seeming almost lost. Hesitantly, he nodded his head, confirming that he wanted you to stay with him. You smiled softly, pressing a kiss atop his forehead.

“Great—then I’ll stay.”

He relaxed back into you, eyes closing almost immediately, his breaths slowing. After a few minutes, you’d assumed he’d fallen asleep, but then his voice called out softly in the silence.

“M’sorry, by the way.”

Your brows furrowed.

“Sorry? For—for what?”

A long sigh. He buried his face further into your shoulder, hiding himself.

“I didn’t get to—I mean, you weren’t able to—I wanted you to, you know—before me.”

Oh.

His innocent avoidance of vulgarity melted your heart, as it was obviously something he struggled to speak about regularly. You pulled your head back, turning to face him, and he lifted his eyes, cheek smushed against your collarbone. You smiled at him, a hand coming to stroke his cheek.

“Don’t be sorry, Steven. It was perfect.”

You assured, and although he would normally never believe it, something in your eyes was genuine. His lips turned upward at the corners.

“Yeah?”

He asked, excited at the prospect of your validation, and you laughed shortly, smiling wide.

“Yeah.”

With that, Steven let his body meld against yours, finally allowing himself to relax completely and relish in the feeling of being so close to you.

Your mind was already racing with ideas for tomorrow’s trial.

POINTS OF CONTENTION:

- being open to unconditional care without obligation of reciprocation

- feeling adequate and worthy of affections

- accepting praise and compliments without denial or doubt

TREATMENT: - receive without giving - deserving of everything and anything (should not have guilt over being pleasured) - high praise and validation

Twelve hours, that was the deal. You needed at least twelve hours apart before you could begin the second phase of research. Partially to record the data you needed and begin developing a profile, but mostly because you knew that both the boys and you would need time to recuperate before going at it again.

Especially Steven.

Standing outside his apartment door, you were somehow more nervous this time around than you were yesterday. You’d spent the night with him, wrapped in each other’s arms, and you’d left early that morning, promising to return in the evening after the appropriate time had elapsed. You’d showered, eaten, relaxed, but mostly, you’d planned. The key to this study, you’d realized, wasn’t actually the sex at all—it was about challenging the alters, exploiting their vulnerabilities. Exposure therapy.

Sexual interactions are intimate. They are reflective of some of our deep-rooted, unconscious desires, and are significantly related to events that occurred in our childhood that shaped our attachments styles. Certain sexual preferences, turn-ons, fetishes, and kinks, are indicative of different cognitive dispositions. You were trying to figure the boys out—using what they wanted to get to what they needed.

You had predicted Steven’s diagnosis from the start.

When the door to his flat swung inward, his eyes were crinkled at the corners from his smile. He looked soft—rosy pink cheeks, mussed brunette curls, baggy sweats—almost as if he’d just woken up. You returned his grin, slipping past him and into the threshold of his flat.

The door slammed shut behind him, and you turned to him, surprised to be met with a slow, deep, passionate kiss, his lips lingering on yours for just a moment before he pulled away.

You blinked.

“Wow.”

You whispered, slightly reeling. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. Steven looked down sheepishly.

“Oh, goodness, I don’t—m’sorry, love, I wasn’t really thinking, I just—missed you, s’all.”

He confessed, rubbing at the back of his neck bashfully. His words pulled at your heartstrings and you walked into him, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your chin on his chest so you were looking up at him.

“No, don’t be sorry, just—took me by surprise.”

You smiled.

“Hell of a welcome, though.”

He smiled, letting out a nervous breath.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, tilting your head upwards to capture his mouth with your own again. He hummed against you, one hand coming to cup the side of your face and the other pulling you in closer by your waist. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip, and you immediately submitted, parting your lips to grant him full access. He started walking backwards towards the couch, but you pulled away to stop him.

“Bed.”

You whispered, your fuck-me eyes almost making him feel faint. He nodded obediently, kissing you again, and changed direction, guiding you to the other side of the flat. The back of Steven’s calves collided with the mattress and he fell backwards into a sitting position onto the bed, but you stayed standing between his parted legs.

“What’re you doin’, love?”

He asked, laughing almost nervously. You just smirked down at him, leaning over to capture his lips once more. You hands were on his shoulders, traveling down his back and around his neck. His found your hips, fingers digging into the flesh there as you continued your passionate making out. Finally, you pulled away, but stayed close, nose still brushing his. His eyes were closed.

“Steven.”

You whispered, and he hummed in acknowledgement, an expression of contentment on his face.

“Are you ready?”

His eyes fluttered open, his gaze focusing in on you. Your lip was pulled between your teeth, as if contemplating something.

“Ready? For... for what, exactly?”

You leaned a bit away from him, standing up to your full height. You looked down at him, stroking his hair comfortingly as you addressed him.

“We’re—I’m gonna try something, okay? But I need you to know that you can stop me at any time. Do you know the stoplight system?”

His big brown eyes looked up at you, and he shook his head.

“It’s a technique for safe words. So if I’m doing something and you want me to stop, you say red. If you need me to slow down, you say yellow, and if you’re doing okay and want me to keep going, you say...”

“Green.”

He finished for you, slightly breathless with anticipation. You nodded down at him proudly.

“Yeah, you’ve got it, good boy.”

You heard the way his breath caught in his throat at your praise, and you pressed a soft, quick kiss to his lips.

“So—are you ready?”

The way he looked at you—eyes filled with such wonder, such reverence, such infatuation—filled you with so much pride and confidence. God, you wanted to ruin this man.

“Gods, love, you’re makin’ me a bit nervous.”

He admitted sheepishly, but his breathing stuttered as you slowly lowered yourself to your knees in between his legs, placing one hand on each thigh and coaxing them farther apart. He was watching you intently.

“Don’t be nervous, sweetheart, it’s okay. But remember—you just tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

He slowly nodded, waiting earnestly for your next move. You reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it off of him and tossing it to the side. His pants followed shortly thereafter, leaving him only in his boxers. You could see just how hard he already was for you—excitement bubbled in your stomach.

He reached for your shirt, but you tutted at him condescendingly, gently guiding his hands away from you.

“No, sweetheart—this is about you.”

You whispered, returning to your position on your knees in between his legs. He was leaning back, his arms stretched out behind him as he held himself up, watching you. Your fingers were stroking at the skin of his upper thigh, where the leg of his boxers ended. Slowly, your fingers passed over his bulge with a barely-there touch, and he hissed at the ticklish sensation, the muscles of his thighs rippling with strain.

While his head was tilted back and his eyes were closed, you took advantage of his temporary distraction and leaned forward to place opened-mouth kisses on his cock through his boxers. The warm heat from your breath passed over him and he groaned, watching as you finally reached up to remove the final barrier between you.

He shifted his hips up to help, and you pulled his boxers down his legs and off of him completely—now, he was completely naked before you, and you were fully clothed.

Perfect.

You settled back in between his legs, fingers slowly creeping up his inner thigh and towards his weeping length. You looked up at him through your lashes, where he was waiting with bated breath.

“Listen to me—you’re gonna cum whenever you want to, whenever you’re ready, okay, Steven?”

He whimpered in response as your fingers skirted around his base. When he didn’t verbally answer, you stopped.

“Okay, Steven?”

“Yes, yeah, alright, yeah.”

He nodded frantically, acknowledging your instruction, and you rewarded him with a grin.

“Good boy.”

Your fingers finally wrapped around the base of his cock and he sighed, groaning as he watched you lean forward and allow a string of spit to dribble through your lips and down onto his awaiting length. You coated your hand with the slickness and started a slow, steady pace, pumping him with a slight twist of your wrist. He whimpered, particularly sensitive when your thumb stroked at the sensitive head at the end of your long up-and-down strokes.

“Shit, Y/N, oh, Gods...”

He whined, his hips slowly starting to react to your pace by thrusting upward into your fist.

“There you go, Steven, doing so well.”

You praised, speeding up the pace of your hand a bit. His lip was pulled between his teeth, as if focusing intently, and you let your other hand come up to cup at his heavy balls. This earned a low groan from him, his hips jolting with each twist of your wrist.

“Shit, shit, you’ve got to slow down, or else—oh, fuck—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I wanna see you let go. It’s okay.”

You whispered sweetly, maintaining your speed but tightening your grip just slightly. The muscles in his abdomen were visibly straining, and you could tell he was close.

“Come on, sweet boy. Cum for me.”

He let out a breathy whine, and you could feel the tightening of his balls as his stomach clenched.

“Oh, fuck, I’m cumming, Y/N, oh, mmmmh—”

You kept pumping him as thick spurts of white spilled from his tip, dripping down the sides of his pretty cock as he throbbed beneath your touch. You allowed his spend to drip over your fingers and knuckles as you continued stroking him, pace slowing just slightly, but not entirely.

His head was thrown back, still reeling with aftershocks, and—fuck.

He jolted when he felt the hot sting of your lips, tongue swirling over the head of his cock, cum still dripping over your hands as your wrist twisted around the base. He cried out, hips thrusting upwards, his legs spasming involuntarily as you began bobbing your head up and down repeatedly, eyes on his face as you watched his face scrunch up in pain.

“Oh, Gods, fuck, fuck, what are you—oh, Gods, s’too much, I can’t, stop, please—”

His hands were fisting at the blankets atop his bed, trying his best not to bury his fingers in your hair as you pulled off of him with a gasp, but your hand kept going.

“You gotta use your words, sweet boy.”

You reminded with a sympathetic tone.

“If you want me to stop, use your words.”

You leaned forward to clean up his release from the sides of his cock, tongue gliding at the same speed as your hand. He was hissing through his teeth, legs still kicking every once in awhile with overstimulation. He wasn’t responding, so maybe you should stop, maybe—

“Fuck, fuck—green! Green, I’m—it’s green.”

He cried, and you wrapped your lips back on his cock, starting to bounce your head once more. The cries that were escaping him were delicious—pathetic whines and whimpers, begging incomprehensibly as you tried to keep his cock hard beneath your touch. It was working, because you could see his abdomen clenching again, and each of his panted breaths was paired with a short grunt.

“Oh, fuck, I don’t—oh, gods, it’s—m’gonna cum again, oh, shit, oooh—”

You pushed down on his cock as far as you could take him, and the second he hit the back of your throat, he felt his orgasm rock through him. His legs curled around your back instinctually, holding you in place as his hips thrusted into your mouth. This was different, though, this—his muscles were contracting, balls tightening, but it wasn’t accompanied by his cum down your throat. You gagged on him and he practically yelped, one hand finally reaching up to grab at your hair. He pulled you off of him, and you gasped for air. Your face was red and there was spit smeared across your cheeks and down your chin. When you looked up at Steven, his eyes were red and there were tears in his eyes. Your hand was still on his cock, pumping slowly. His legs were still twitching.

You stood up, finally releasing him, and he collapsed backwards onto the bed, arms eagle-spread on either side of him, panting. But then he heard the sound of clothes hitting the floor, and when he looked up at you, you were undressing.

He stared at you incredulously, and you smirked at him, discarding your pants and panties simultaneously, leaving you completely bare. You approached the bed again, swinging your leg across Steven's waist to straddle him. You held yourself up just a bit so you were hovering over his cock.

“What, you think we’re done already?”

You teased, sinking down to rub your dripping folds over his still half-hard length. His hips jumped at the feeling.

“No, no, I can’t, not—”

He whimpered, and you leaned forward to shush him, giving him a quick kiss. His bottom lip quivered.

“Such a good boy, Steven—you can give me one more.”

You nodded encouragingly, and he whined, his head pressing back into the mattress with frustration. Your hand reached to stroke at his chest.

“Words, Steven. Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

You offered, suddenly serious, and he took a few deep breaths, tears trailing down his cheeks. When he opened them again, he looked wrecked, but he met your gaze.

“Green.”

It was barely a whisper, but you heard it. You reached down to wrap your fingers around his slick length once more, stroking him to coax him back to full height. He was still mostly hard, as his second orgasm had occurred in the midst of his refractory period, so fairly soon, his tip was prodding at your awaiting entrance and you stifled a mewl.

“There we go, sweet boy. You ready?”

His brows were pinched, but he nodded, and you slowly, carefully sank down on him, burying him into you all the way to the hilt. He was crying now, sitting upright to wrap his arms around you and hold you close against him as you gave him a moment to adjust. His face was pressed into your shoulder.

“Doing so, so well, for me, Steven. Just give me one more, okay? Whenever you want, whenever you’re ready, give it to me.”

You encouraged, lips pressed against his ear, and you slowly lifted up your hips, sinking back down onto him as he whined into you.

“Oooh—oooh—”

“Shh, shh—I know, sweetheart, I know.”

You cooed, cupping the back of his head with one hand as you continued to roll your hips, grinding back and forth against his lap. You were entirely focused on Steven and helping him reach his peak, but still, the way the tip of his cock prodded at something deep inside you was addictive.

“Such a big cock, Steven, fills me up so good.”

He was panting, you could feel his thighs trembling beneath you as you bounced on him, picking up your speed.

“Being such a good boy. Can you give me one more, huh? Think you can?”

He was sobbing, hips jolting every time your weight came to settle back down onto his balls, skin sticky with sweat as you held him close to you.

“Oh, please, please, please, I’m so close, oh fuck—please, I can’t—”

You bounced on him harder, feeling the ripple of tension in his shoulder blades as his body was wracked with sobs.

“Oh, yes, gonna cum, gonna cum, Y/N, gonna—oh, oh, oh fuck, fuck, fuck fuck—”

His teeth sank into the flesh of your shoulder as his cock pulsed within you, and you granted him the kindness of stopping the roll of your hips so he could thrust into you, his seed painting your walls and filling you with warmth. You could feel the hot, wet tears from his eyes against the skin of your shoulder, and you held him close to you, cradling his head against you and rocking him gently.

“Good boy, Steven, so proud of you. Did so, so well for me. My sweet, sweet boy.”

You peppered kisses to the crown of his head, burying your face in his curls as he clung to you desperately, and you stayed there until you felt the drumming of his heart slow and his breathing even out. You slowly, carefully peeled yourself away from him, his softened and sensitive cock slipping out of you as you shakily got to your feet. He whined at the loss of contact, reaching for you, but you shushed him.

“I’ll be right back, okay?”

You followed his lead from yesterday, cleaning yourself up in the bathroom before bringing a damp rag to wipe away the arousal that was drying against his thighs. He hissed at your touch, but you gently cleaned him up, returning to the bathroom again. You considered slipping his jumper on, but for some reason, you felt the need to be as close to Steven as possible. You’d pushed him to his limit, and you wanted to be there for him in every sense of the word.

When you came back to the bed, you gestured for him to crawl up towards the pillows. He obliged, albeit a bit shakily, and you pulled the covers back for him as he curled up beneath them. You joined him immediately after, fitting your body to the curve of his back and wrapping your arms around his warm abdomen. You pressed a few gentle kisses against the back of his neck, the top of his spine, across his shoulders. He hummed in response.

“You feel okay?”

You asked quietly, words muffled in his skin. He scooted away so he could turn to face you. His eyes were red, but there was a glimmer of calmness in them—the high-strung Steven looked truly relaxed.

“Feel floaty.”

You laughed at his drawled words, hands reaching up to cradle his face in your hands. Your thumbs stroked against each of his cheeks gently, soothing.

“You really did so well, Steven. Thank you.”

Your eyes were soft, and you saw the way his lips quirked at the corners at your approval.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to—I mean, if you’d still like to—”

You sent him a glare, and he immediately silenced himself, gaze casting downward and away from you.

“No. This was about you, Steven, about you feeling good and that’s it. It was perfect. I loved it.”

His eyes brightened.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You assured, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. He sighed, shutting his eyes briefly as a warm, fuzzy feeling overtook him.

“S’just—wish I’d gotten the chance to—”

“Next time, Steven, okay?”

You regarded him carefully, tone gentle. His brows furrowed.

“But—my turn’s done. S’just—Marc and Jake, and then—”

“Next time.”

You reiterated, and when your words finally sank in, the smile that lit up his face was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him, embracing you tightly like he never wanted to let go.

TAGS: @kezibear143 @gingermous

[andy-wm]

Jikook - The Fan Service Professionals

These two are such pros when it comes to fan service, they even practice behind the scenes. Dedication with a capital D! Even during the height of Covid, when there were no performances on the horizon, they were diligently keeping up the charade.

The newly released Bangtan Bomb of the BE Skit recording is a great example...

It is 2020, JK's birthday, and the Billboard #1 win for Dynamite has just been announced. Five of the guys file into a recording studio and sit down. Namjoon leaves an obvious gap next to Jimin.

JK arrives a few minutes later and takes his place... next to Jimin.

The group discusses the fact that the Billboard win was announced on JK's birthday and that he clearly needs no more gifts. What happens next is interesting...

JK tells them he received the best gift of his life and Jimin speaks for the first time since JK entered the room, jumping in to say "We're recording Skit, right?"

I've never seen anyone change the subject with such haste as this. In fact i might go so far as to say the way Jimin interrupted was ...almost rude! (But not really rude, because.. .he's Jimin)

But I digress...

The producer tells Jimin they're already recording and Jimin glances furtively at the microphone to confirm. Yes, the red light is on, it is indeed recording.

He laughs and slaps his thigh. Something must be really funny because he continues to laugh behind his hand, which is SUCH a tell for when he's embarrassed.

Long after everyone else has moved on, Jimin is still smiling to himself.

Maybe it's because JK just announced to the world that he got the best birthday gift OF HIS LIFE.

But he didn't specify what it was. He didn't say it was the Billboard win. And it looks like that birthday gift went on all night because the boy is clearly exhausted.

Anyway, moving on...

They start practicing their "fan service routine" at this point:

Without a word being exchanged between them, Jimin stands up and gives JK space to change his position. He then sits down next to JK and adopts the exact same position, with folded legs. Tick the box for mirroring behaviour

The next part of routine is connecting through touch - you know - how genuine couples touch each other as a way of checking in? Yeah like that. (Somehow I see caressing a person with your knuckles as more intimate than using your palm, but maybe that's just me)

And then there's a different type of touch - that body contact that comes with intimacy and familiarity. When you're a new couple this type of thigh touch can be very titilating but when you've been together for a while it's more comforting than sexy (although there's definitely an element of sexy too). At this point they are barely interacting, aside from Jimin's arm draped over JK's thigh and his fingers resting casually on JK's shin like it's his own personal armrest... he's certainly covering all the bases on that leg.

uuummm... okay, well played Jikook...

10/10 fan service here I guess.

Anything else that might have happened in this 'practice session' was lost on the cutting room floor, but one thing is for certain... neither Jimin nor JK got a wink of sleep on the night of JK's birthday.

Some may say it's because of the BB #1 win but I don't see any of the other guys in such a state of disarray as these two.

One thing that is obvious though:

Whatever the two of them were celebrating, they went at it all night long.

*cue Barry White*

[savnofilter]

On to Better Things | k. bakugo

      Pro Hero!DILF!Katsuki Bakugo x [FEM] Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, angst, strangers to lovers.

sfw — toxic & abusive relationship, toxic baby daddy, mentions postpartum, mental health, arguing, mentions of legal proceedings, counseling, drama, cultural family expectations, love bombing, manipulation, a man being a hypocrite, reader low-key needs a new circle of people around them but that's neither here nor there, reader loves their daughter to pieces </3, reader's daughter is a hand full but we stan!, reader spaces out a lot, "our kids are best friends but we never met before and so happen to be single" trope.

nsfw — sexual content, pro hero!bakugo sorry not sorry lmao, bakugo got rizz, fingering, cunnilingus, groping, praise kink, reader has multiple orgasms (2, hinted 4), reader is a bit shy as it's been awhile and feels nervous, vocal queen reader, clothed sex, protected sex, comforting!bakugo, non-established relationship.

COUNT: 11.4k words (45 mins.)

READ MORE: masterlist + [students | bakugo]

A/N: whooph the warnings… imo, it's nothing too serious, but yk i gotta put the warnings up!! it's not graphic, but it does talk ab the stuff listed. i didnt know how else to craft a toxic ex-baby daddy type of situation, and it divulged into this 😭 also use yalls brains with the sfw & nsfw discernment for the warnings… ofc i do not take lightly about what's written, so dont twist it any other way and the heavier subjects being under sfw. i digress!! ive been wanting to write this request for a while and finally got around to it. unfortunately, i alr want to rewrite. :') despite that, i actually kinda really liked this one so i hope yall fw it too. 🫶🏽 thank you, anon!

"Mommy!" Your daughter, Niyuki, calls out to you as she runs into your arms.

She had recently turned 6 years old and still loves the end of the day on Fridays where she could run into your arms, and recount everything about what she had learned that week. Niyuki is pretty much a chatterbox and you weren't too sure where she got it from considering that even your… ex wasn't quite the talkative one either. As you grew to love this quality about her, you found it endearing. Phone calls with her were always a delight and that was how she had persuaded (begged) you to let her go to the park despite having other plans for the day.

You had promised on Monday that she would be able to go to the park in addition to ending her day Friday night off with having a sleepover with her best friend. Niyuki, being an excitable kid, wanted to go straight from school to the park so she wouldn't waste any more time than she already had.

"Hi, Niyuki!" You beam back, a loving smile on your face as you pepper her face in kisses, and hold her cheeks as she tries to shy away with her boundless amounts of giggles. "How was your da-"

"Great -- Mommy you promised we could go to the park today!" Niyuki lightly pushes away from you, a slight whine to her voice as she attempts to get away from your onslaught of affection.

"We can still go, I can't greet my little angel first before I do that?" You poke her cheek as you stand up straight and hold your hand out for her to hold. "Tell me about your day, pumpkin."

There was a skip in her step as she recounted her day to you. When Niyuki gets started, she never stops. She talked about the first moment her feet reached the school grounds, to before school had started, then she talked about her first few classes, after that what she did during lunch and how much fun she had at recess, the "drama" (very unserious but nevertheless cute) that happened before classes resumed and so on. Niyuki is also the animated type and could often run out of breath when she talks. She would use her hands and voice inflictions just to convey what she was speaking about. Sometimes, you even had to remind her to slow down and that time was going nowhere when talking with you.

It was moments like this when you could take in the rambunctiousness and appreciate your lovable daughter. You two only seemed to have special moments like these—well, at least you thought they were special—because of the separation between you and your toxic ex.

Before you two had split your relationship had been decent. Despite that though, you were incredibly in love with him, but the same wasn't reciprocated in a way that emotionally gave back. He'd make excuses as to why he wasn't open to you, his reasoning that he "loved differently" and that if you really loved him you would believe him. So you did. Over, and over, and over again. Hoping that the days where he showed up like in the beginning would become more frequent, but your willingness to stay was how he knew he could toy with you.

He had been your first when you had finally agreed to be an item when you were in your early twenties and it took a long time to finally separate from him when things got bad. In addition to dealing with the conflicting feelings of your then-boyfriend, your friends who only wanted the best for you, and your close family members, you also had to deal with yourself. Nights and days spent venting and breaking down about the man had become so common that your friends' concerns grew. You had so many negative thoughts at that time and you were naive to truly believe that there was a happy ending to overcome this predicament. That his way of loving could change for both of you. His manipulative questions would often linger in your head if you left him, and who were you to argue? When arguments would start to come up again almost weekly, it always ended up with you an emotional mess while he "proved" to you that he was the only one who could handle you.

When your ex noticed you started to pull away, he suddenly had an interest in starting a family. Late nights where you two would lay in bed after making up, he'd share his daydreams about you mothering his children, how beautiful and perfect you'd be to fit in his little world.

Family this, family that. Family values, family roles, family life. You two had been friends since you both were in high school, and it only made sense that you two were dating now and getting married soon. Hell, he even made you question what would your family think if you were "running around" instead of being faithful to him. Imagine the embarrassment to your family if you threw all of that away and weren't able to find someone else like him?

People talk, people notice. Many of the older women noted how great you two looked together, and he was well off with a great future that could support you both. Neither did it help that you changed your once passionate future for being a pro-hero to a different career that was deemed less reliable than your previous choice. It was in your best interest that you stayed with him to avoid the awful gossip in town.

When you haven't been in a situation like yours with an inconsiderate lover, it's hard to understand why you stayed as long as you did. Consequently from being his friend for so long and dating him for years meant he knew the sort of things to target your psyche. To reinforce the pressures you had of making your family look good, mixed with the hidden fears of the burden of following the footsteps of your successful siblings as well.

It was a lot to take in and it wasn't long before you gave in. You just wanted him to be who he was again. The stress only grew older with you and the more time that passed had a looming connotation that the older you got the more undesirable and unfit you are to find another relationship. Even past that, you gave so many years to him. You were a virgin when you two had met, and he had already been around. He knew how to kiss you right, he memorized your soft spots and remembered the best ways to make you come undone. He'd expertly sweet talk you after each session, and on days when you were feeling down he would be the first person to show up, usually bearing gifts of some sort coupled with affection. You couldn't understand what had changed. Why did he decide to start treating you like this? You were vulnerable and scared, and nothing like the familiar could ease the fabricated feeling of comfort.

You thought that having his child would finally fix things but you were so wrong. So very, very wrong. After your first semester in the pregnancy, you had heard talk about people seeing your supposed boyfriend—the father of the child you were soon to birth—with other women. Of course, you didn't believe it, and you refused to listen when your friends tried to tell you. In this stage, you were mostly shut in, as this was taught to be the best preparation for giving birth. You couldn't fathom the fact he would stoop so low. He had his low moments, but not like this. He would never.

He had disconnected you from everyone who had truly cared for you and even convinced your family that you were safe and protected with him. It wasn't until one evening when he had the gall to meet one of his mistresses outside of your house is when you realized it was all true, but it was all too late.

You were an emotional wreck for days. You had hit your lowest and it didn't help that your delivery date was getting closer every day that passed. You'd weep to yourself when you were sure he wasn't around and soon enough the house that you had (forced) yourself to love had once again become a prison. A night when you were tired of the pain is when you decided to reach out to your friends and family again. It was a shameless plea for help and you didn't care how desperate you looked and you wanted out. At first, your parents weren't supportive of the fact that you wanted to leave the man but you didn't care. You wanted to leave everything behind and not give this horrible chapter in your life a look back ever again. With enough talking and white lies, you were able to make a workaround to at least get back up on your feet after your delivery.

The delivery of your daughter, Niyuki, was thankfully a smooth one. Not at all enjoyable but very few complications came along the way when the time came. You had made a deal with your parents that you would stay with them so you could comfortably recover from the delivery whilst being able to safely be under their vision when your ex and his in-laws would come over. Your friends started to visit when you were healing more and had even convinced you to go out with them which you hadn't done for over a year. You were utterly scared as you had missed such a large chunk of socialization that even you didn't think you could do it. But once the night started, you didn't want to go back.

One night out became two, then three, four, five, and so on. The time you were home lessened and it didn't help that your friends were more than willing to let you take refuge at their homes. It wasn't like you were going crazy but the high that you got from drinking and even sometimes having flings became addicting and it felt satisfactory in the way you felt autonomy over your body once again.

You'd ignore the calls from your parents and family including your in-laws, especially any communication from your ex. You had ghosted the situation. The most emotionally taxing period of your life was now being forcefully ignored. You'd spend your time if not partying, then out clubbing. Even when you weren't out on benders, you'd stay up all night and indulge in the fact you were being taken care of by friends. And while you deeply appreciated their hospitality, it was also a double-edged sword. You had dropped out of college, you were no longer reliable and the flings and high feelings were no longer distracting you from the fact that you had some serious issues to deal with.

It got to a point where you'd lay in whoever's spare room and drown in thoughts about the situation you were in. A year before then, you had been stuck with your ex, and somehow a year and a half later you had no idea what that situation was like in that home.

Anxiety and suffocating emotions would swallow you often as the memories of your toxic and abusive ex would soon follow the baby girl you had given birth to. Niyuki. You'd remember her smile, the way she giggled, and how active she was. Although you had only spent about a few months or so with her, you'd remember her bright smile. You'd remember the way her eyes shone when she looked at new things or heard new words—how her face always lit up when she heard your voice, felt your presence, or saw your face. The emptiness without her would eat at you and it was time to forcefully welcome a new cycle of you falling into a depression once again.

At this point, you had lost your job, didn't have any urge to pick up any new hobbies or skills and you'd lay in bed all day. Going out until early mornings trying to ignore the fact that you weren't happy in your current state no longer worked anymore. It was a draining process to get back up but you were willing to give your life a go again. You started looking for jobs that hopefully had good pay and were willing to hire someone with this big of a time gap in their resume. While still couch hopping, you still had places to stay so fortunately you didn't need to worry about that.

When you eventually came around to wanting to be in Niyuki's life again, it was too late. Of course, when you had finally decided to start to better yourself and the suffocating feeling of postpartum had slowly dwindled over time, he was there to make sure that you couldn't take control back of your life. Your ex had found out why you had been gone for so long and eventually had things filed so that he would have sole custody. It seemed as though no matter what you did, he was always ten steps ahead of you. And this time you knew that your support from your family was even less than before.

He had swindled the courts and your families to the point that he painted you as a deadbeat and to the courts, it didn't seem as though there was any evidence to contradict that. Eventually, as you went through counseling and legal support were you able to at least gain visitation, an absence of early childhood not being any signs or indicators that you were unfit to see your own daughter.

It was humiliating settling back into your life and getting back up on your feet. Your parents demanded that you would stay with them as a reassurance that you were serious about getting your shit together and you didn't want to argue. Although with their calloused nature sometimes, they did take care of you well. You couldn't tell what they were thinking but they treated you as gently as they could. Even your family members would come and help out from time to time and it made your recovery better. As stated by the courts, as long as the grandparents (either your parents or in-laws) were there to supervise, a social worker, or the dreaded last option, your ex, was there you would be able to spend time with your daughter.

Months would pass and soon years would follow. When you had shown no signs of negligence or malice occurring in your visits, the judge allowed that you didn't need supervision. Your ex protested but it went unheard. Plus your willingness to get your life together showed your dedication so it was a blessing that you were able to get back to a somewhat decent and regular life despite what has happened. Of course the label that had been placed on you wasn't fully gone, but you were at least able to see your own daughter again.

Which is why you deeply cherish moments like this. After inspections at your apartment, the courts approved that your daughter has now been allowed to stay a few days at your place, and this weekend she was scheduled to stay with you. She would get dropped off by him on Thursdays after school, but you limited the talk to only what was important. Usually, on the first day you get her for the week, you do something with her that she's been wanting to do. As much as you wanted to do it right away, you did make sure her homework was done (she would do it at school just so she could spend more time with you though). Despite her determination, you would still check her work and teach her the things she got wrong much to her dismay. You'd make sure you're on time to drop her off to her evening classes and still wake up early to cook her breakfast every Friday morning. Then you'd drop her off and then pick her up at the end of the day seeing as she had no evening classes on weekends.

"We're here, we're here!" Niyuki cheered, the sweet but mischievous smile never leaving her face when around you.

"It's so pretty out! Wanna get some ice cream, Niyuki?"

"Yes, please!"

After you park your car you hop out and help her out of her seat, holding out your hand for her to take as she knows the routine already. Niyuki admires the familiar park although she has been to numerous times. The way she gazes at everything looks as though this is her first time seeing the place, and this kind of wonder behind her eyes isn't unique to this particular place. No matter how many times she has been somewhere or seen something, her eyes always shine with curiosity and wonder. You can't help but watch her with a faint smile, never wanting to forget what her face looks like ever again.

"Which ice cream do you want, Niyuki?" You ask once you two reach the truck, an assortment of colorful ice cream pictures is decorated on the side of the vehicle.

"Hmm…." Niyuki thoughtfully hums. She raises her free hand to comically tap on her chin as she thinks, the gesture urging a laugh from both you and the ice cream salesman. "Can I have the one with the," She leans closer and points to it, "SpongeBob with the bubblegum, please!"

You think to yourself as you settle for something that's to your tastes, relaying your order to him and searching for your wallet to pay for the cold, sweet treats.

You look over at the man and he nods before leaving to the back, "Coming right up."

In no time at all you two are grabbing ice cream and heading to the playscape. Today was a bit hotter than what you were both expecting so you made a challenge that whoever was able to eat their ice cream without being messy gets to go to bed late tonight. You knew you'd win but it was still amusing to challenge her as her bright spirit came along with a competitive one.

In the midst of you two finishing up your ice cream, a younger but familiar voice calls out to your daughter. You look around confused before spotting a younger girl running towards Niyuki and then engulfing her in a bear hug.

"Mizuki!" Your daughter squeals as they both tightly embrace, her popsicle long forgotten now.

"I didn't know you were coming to the park today!" Mizuki said as she pulled away, still holding onto her best friend. Their bond started from the mere fact that their names sounded similar.

"Yeah, my mommy brought me!" Niyuki pulls away to pull at your dress.

"My dad brought me as a surprise, so I guess it's okay we didn't know!"

The two of them were pretty endearing you couldn't lie. They had been to the same Pre-K together before attending elementary together.

So far you had only met her mother and she was pretty kind. You only knew so much about her though and to your knowledge, she is happily engaged at this point. You two would talk often when the two played, often sharing play dates when it was your turn to have Niyuki on the weekends. That's how Niyuki and Mizuki were able to twin, have sleepovers, etc. While having other friends at school, those two were joined at the hip.

That's why you were utterly confused to hear about her father.

You knew nothing about him except for the fact that he and Mizuki's mother mutually decided that things just weren't working out. It's not like she knew much about your ex either. It seemed as though the separation of parents helped bond the two kids, but you felt saddened at how completely different the two situations were. You sometimes worried if Niyuki was embarrassed by this knowing it wasn't always easy at school due to the teasing.

"Mizuki!" A deeper voice calls out to the young girl. With the young girl's name being called, she turns around and excitedly waves him over. You pause in your tracks as you take him in.

Ashy blonde hair that resembles an explosion sits at the top of his head smothered in appearance by his hat, while his eyes are also covered by a pair of what appeared to be designer sunglasses. He sported a relaxed fit, a gray tank top with a light mesh patterned throw-over that did nothing but tease the muscles underneath the cloth, the colors on it being black and white. The look is finished off with black baggy pants and some boots. You could tell he was attractive even without the cover-up. As you finish up the assessment of your daughter's friend's (hot) dad, it occurs to you the fact that he had sunglasses on doesn't hide the fact that you were totally just checking him out.

"Mizuki, I told you to stop running off like that." He grabs the young girl and gives her a playful nuggy.

"Sorry Daddy!" Mizuki giggles and slips away from him and runs to hide behind you instead, your daughter following. They both peek from behind you, and you have no other choice but to introduce yourself.

"Hi, you're Mizuki's dad, I'm guessing? I'm Y/N, Niyuki's mom." You smile warmly.

He nods at your assumption, his expression still the same as before. "Katsuki, it's great to finally meet the mother of this other troublemaker's friend." He playfully steps in Mizuki's direction and she immediately runs to your other side, giggling.

Something about him was eerily familiar. You couldn't place your finger on it, but you simply chalked it up to the fact you have probably seen him in passing at a few of their birthday parties or so. But something about that didn't feel right… Either way, you ignore it. It wasn't a bad feeling but the fact you couldn't place your finger on it would later down the road bug you. You decide to ask instead.

"Have I seen you—"

"Daddy, can we go to Niyuki's house to watch movies now?" Mizuki cuts you off in the middle of your question, undoubtedly earning a glare from her father.

"Mizuki, what'd I tell you about interrupting people when they talk?" Bakugo lifts his sunglasses this time, his gaze revealing he was solely looking at her.

She pouts using you as a shield once again before tugging on your clothes. "Sorry oba-san…" Mizuki says with one of the deadliest puppy faces you've ever seen. There was no doubt she was one of the cutest 6-year-olds you have ever seen. How could you be annoyed with a look like that?

"It's okay, Mizuki. What were you asking?" You ask them and turn better, bending down a bit to be at both of the girl's levels.

"Can we please watch movies in Niyuki's playroom? Pleeaaseeee?" Mizuki asks and your daughter steps up to beg as well.

"Please, Mommy!! We'll be good too!" Niyuki reasons.

"I'm not sure, ladies…" You trail off as you consider that maybe Katsuki himself probably planned out for the afternoon and didn't want to forcefully make him commit to an impromptu earlier playdate.

"It's alright." Katsuki pipes up and you three look back at him. He lightly shrugs and answers as if he could read your mind, "We were going to play it by ear for the rest of the day anyways."

The two children couldn't quite comprehend the second bit of what he said, but they did understand that it was a yes from what he said in the beginning. They gleefully look at you and start tugging and hugging at you.

"Please, Mommmyyy!" Niyuki pleads, now joining in on giving you a hard to disapprove of puppy look as well.

You lightly laugh and nod your head, finally pulling them in for a proper hug and then giving them a tickle to fend off their offensive stance. "Okay, okay! We can do the movie night! But I want you two to at least spend an hour or so here before agreeing to let you two be cooped up inside for the night."

"Okay!" They exclaim in unison. The moment they break free of your grasp is when they run to the playscape. You sigh as you stand up and give Katsuki a soft smile before properly sitting down on one of the benches. He's close second to following your lead, you both now watching as the two girls play with each other as well as other kids. It seemed most parents decided today was a great day to let their kids out. Mostly because it would tire them out for the night which was a plus.

"I wasn't expecting Niyuki's mother to be so beautiful," Katsuki randomly says, cutting the silence. You look at him with a surprised look on your face, a blush starting to rise on your complexion.

"I could say the same for Mizuki's father." You bashfully laugh and un-subconsciously move to adjust your clothes. Admittedly you were not as designer dressed as he was, nor were you in your best fit. One thing to notice other than his attractiveness is that he has impeccable style. Something that shocked you a little since men in their 20s (especially with kids) don't seem to care too much these days. It wouldn't shock you if he had some sort of unconventional job.

He turns to you when you respond, a teasing smirk now dawning on his face. You don't miss the look-over he gives you and you're sure that he wasn't trying to hide it either. "You know they'll be all tired before they reach halfway through the first movie…"

"That is true…" You play into his words as you look forward instead. You feel your heart start to race when he rests his arm on the back of the bench behind you. You could feel the warmth of his skin through the cloth and welcome it. The weather was too hot but his touch was something you were starting to get curious about. "I guess that'll just leave us two to relax then."

"I could help you with that, I'm a pro at saving people."

You hum at his words, "You're a chivalrous man, that's uncommon these days," a teasing smile to rival him now finds its way on your face. "What else are you good at, Katsuki?"

"I'm also really good with my hands." Katsuki humors you, his hand shifting near your shoulder where his arm lay. "Pretty strong too."

"Ah, so those muscles aren't just for show?" Feeling bold, you reach to rest your hand on his thigh, his muscles immediately flexing under your touch.

He leans in closer to whisper in your ear as he answers, his hand now resting lightly on your shoulder. "I gotta make sure I'm always in shape to save beautiful women like you."

A buzzing near your touch catches you off guard as you try to not completely fold at his words. A catchy ringtone soon follows the buzzing and it's now apparent that what you were feeling was his phone. He pulls away with a huff and pulls out his phone, excusing himself as he answers it.

You exhale a breath you didn't realize you were holding in as he leaves. You can't remember the last time you had talked to a male, much less flirted. Most of your days surrounded working and finishing up school as you wanted nothing but the best for your kid. You didn't go out often anymore, and if you did, you only stuck around with your friends. You couldn't complain but feeling so affected like this was starting to make you feel nervous, almost like when you had got back out into the dating world the first time. You tried not to think about those thoughts.

Now, you were back to watching the girls again and they seemed to be having a blast. The day's heat didn't phase them at all and they played to their heart's content. It seemed as though they were playing cops & robbers with the other kids, and honestly, you didn't care what they were doing as long as they were being safe. The good thing about the friendship between the two was that they always looked out for each other; never mind the fact that their circumstances brought them closer together.

Even with how hard you've been trying to do this mother thing, inescapable thoughts always plagued your mind. Mainly about the fact if your daughter truly wanted to stay with you. This whole arrangement of only getting to see your child three days a week has been going on for about a year and some change now. You know that it'd be too early for her to get "tired" of you, but you can't help the fear of her getting sick of you. One thing was for certain is that you definitely are not as well off as her father although you did make sure to pick up extra shifts when you wanted to get her something real nice.

However, your moment of contemplation comes to an end when two girls come barreling towards you, their approaching giggles making you snap out of your thoughts.

"Mommy!"

"Yes?" Your eyes refocus and you smile softly at the two girls, their wild energy showing how much they truly were out there on the playground having fun.

"Can we have some ice cream please!" Mizuki asks, tugging your arm.

"Please, please, please, PLEASEEE!" Niyuki begs.

You gape a bit overwhelmed at the two young energies, trying to reason with yourself as Niyuki had already gotten ice cream prior. You were sure her best friend did as you knew that both her parents loved to spoil her—even before you had an introduction to Katsuki. It was a hot day and you didn't seem to mind, you were getting pretty hot as well…

"... Okay, but that's the last before we head home! When you finish, that's enough park time."

Your answer is to their standards as they both shower you with affection to thank you for caving into their cuteness. You roll your eyes but the smile doesn’t disappear as you keep an eye on them as they wander to the truck.

"Sorry 'bout that," The new but familiar voice calls out as he walks up to you. "Important business and shit."

Your brows raise at the casual curse and laugh a little, folding your arms as you look up at him. "No problem, but I did tell them that we will be leaving as soon as they finish their ice cream." You inform, nodding your head towards their direction as you keep an eye out for them.

"Great timing, I was about to talk to you about that."

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

The two girls were happier than ever riding together back to your apartment. They sang along to their favorite songs, played I Spy, and talked about all sorts of things you expect from children. It's easier to tune them out when you're around them long enough.

Their excitement continued when you got to your home. As soon as you reached your unit the two beelined to the kitchen after dropping their shoes and bags at the door. And yes, you guessed it, they had matching pairs too. Niyuki knew to go to the kitchen first thing though as she knew you would make something in the meantime before the movie started.

"You two know the rules! Stay near the island to avoid getting bit by sharks!" You called out to them as you fixed up the entryway. You listen out to hear them, still hearing them squeal and toy around in there. You slip off your shoes, adding them to the rest of the shoes before lazily pulling on your house slippers. "The sharks are coming in five… four… three…!" Your warning does the trick as by the time you reach the kitchen they're both sitting in their respective seats and both looking mischievous and peeking at you behind their hands. You make a show of surveying the room as if you can't see where they are and the girls are now "safe" for following your directions. "It seems as though the sharks are clear!"

They celebrate the win, now eager to watch you work your magic.

You three had a fun time as you tried your best to make sure they were safe (the entire time you were internally panicking to make sure everything was okay). Niyuki liked watching you cook and you were more than happy to help her learn as well as do some hands-on stuff. It was only natural that her best friend would follow suit in her curiosity. Niyuki's sole enjoyment of watching you cook is what encourages you to do it more often and get better at it too.

Now there was an assortment of snacks aside from their main meal. It was true that you spoiled her a wee bit when she was with you, but you couldn't help it. Niyuki was your everything and when times were needed you were able to say no.

Once you set up their bowls with their food, the doorbell rings. You figured it was the man who would make another appearance for the night.

"Alright girls, bring your food to the room." You command and watch them leave before making it out into the hallway, finally answering the door when they are both in the designated room. "Katsuki!" You smile and open the door wider.

The blonde-haired male grins at you and holds up the childishly bright bags for Mizuki. "Sorry for taking so long. This should be everything." You nod and reach for it, his actions making you pause as he pulls it a bit towards him as if to hold it from you. "Is it alright if I see Mizuki before I leave?"

You feel your skin flush in embarrassment, hastily stepping to the side and opening the door more to let him in. "I-I am so sorry! Of course, you can," You close the door and lock it behind him when he finally steps in and gets his shoes off. He doesn't need much introduction when two heads pop out from the doorway of the playroom, one squealing in excitement as she runs up to her father to hug him.

"Daddy you're here!" Mizuki exclaims and pulls him in the direction of the room. "Come look at Niyuki's playroom!"

"I'm not sure--"

"No, no it's okay! Let me clean up the kitchen in the meantime." You smile as the three make their way to the room.

Sticking to your word, you waste no time cleaning up. You have a slight hum as you move around the kitchen, appreciating how well today has gone so far. You even met your daughter's best friend, hot dad… who would've thunk? You bite your lip to suppress a giggle that threatens to escape you, a giddy smile still on your face. Gosh, when was the last time you ever found someone attractive? It felt like forever since you've been focusing on parenting, school, and not to mention having a job.

You think about how well the man dressed and how good he smelled. You had to hand it to him, he was really put together and you could see why Mizuki's mother let him in the first place. He didn't seem too bad personality-wise either. Katsuki was the right amount of cheeky and arrogant that was the complete opposite of your ex. It didn't help that his well-defined muscles and physique showed with his great fashion taste. Luckily for you though, Katsuki felt the same way about you.

When he had first seen you, there was no mistaking in the way he immediately found you attractive. Dressed in your form-fitting sundress surely accentuates everything about your womanly body. The way the cloth hung to your mounds and all the beautiful parts of your limbs. But unlike you, he was able to hide how much he was checking you out. Except while indoors he no longer needed sunglasses and he was sure you were feeling the same way about him.

Katsuki's eyes are trained on your butt as you flawlessly move around, the color of your dress perfectly folding around the two globes of your ass as you move. He leans against the doorway once he finally looks up at the back of your head, crossing his arms. "Hey," Katsuki's voice calls out to you. You whip your head around to look at him, eyes enraptured with how attractive the young man is. "Sorry for the weird behavior earlier at the park…"

"It's okay! Really. Stuff comes up sometimes, glad that you were able to get it settled." You turn off the sink and dry your hands, turning to face him as you place the towel on the island in front of you. You don't miss the way his eyes drag down to check out your body.

"The girls will probably knock before they even finish halfway through the movie," Katsuki predicts, his eyes predatory when he looks up at you. "could make it up to you while they're busy."

You shy as you two make proper eye contact. "How could you possibly make it up to me?" You bat your lashes at him, a faint blush heating your skin at the implications of his offer.

An attractive grin spreads across his lips as he pushes off your doorway. "I could show you but it's better if we do it somewhere private."

It takes everything in you to hide the chill that runs up your spine at how he easily toyed with ideas without being so vulgar with it. As if your body is moving on its own, you walk towards him and flash a smile that has equal parts of mischief and seduction.

"I'm interested."

As soon as that door closes behind you two, there is no denying the tension that fills the room. His lips are soft and hot against yours and the feeling has your body tingling. His heavy and calloused hands are tight on your hips as he pulls you closer to his chest, your hands placing themselves on his biceps to try and steady yourself against him. Katsuki hums in satisfaction, tasting your sweet lip gloss on his mouth, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip to ask for more. You willingly comply and open your mouth although timid about the experience.

You were feeling fresh in the kitchen but now that you two were getting down to it, you were starting to feel shy again. Up until now, it had practically been years since you dated a man, much less kissed or hooked up with one. There was no denying that you were attracted to this man but your mind was starting to cloud with doubts that you wish would just go away. You try to ignore it erstwhile you feel his strong hands slip down to grab your rump through the beloved sundress you wore today.

You softly groan in the kiss as he pulls away, eyes with innocent determination to see this through. His eyes are hot on you and it takes everything in you not to look away. He walks you to your bed, instantly getting on top of you once he has you adjusted to his liking. In a hurry, you move to untie one of the straps on your shoulder, his heavy hand stopping you as he leans into your ear to convey his true thoughts

"'Gonna fuck you in this dress, princess," Katsuki smirks down at you when he pulls away and stands up properly. He tugs you towards the edge of the bed so that your legs hang off the edge, his hands on your hips. He leans down to give your lips a chaste kiss before spreading your legs and kneeling between them. Katsuki's hands softly grip your ankles, the tips of his fingers disappearing at the hem of your dress. His hands slowly drag the fabric up, his hot lips that were once on yours now kissing their way up on your left leg as took his time exposing his skin. "Keep looking at me, baby." Katsuki directs when you lose eye contact with him as he finally meets your inner thigh, his teeth giving the plush skin a teasing bite. You softly whimper, the apparent wet spot on your panties deepening.

He groans at your scent and slightly pulls away to look at your cunt, his hands now placed on the back of your thighs and pressing it to your body. He takes his knuckle to rub up against your labia, adding more pressure once he reaches the top of your cunt to play with your clit. You wantonly moan as he continues to rub at your clit, the fabric of your panties creating a friction that was heavenly but frustrating you greatly. You needed to feel his fingers on you and this wasn't cutting it.

"Katsuki," You breathe out, hips bucking into his handling. He simply hums at you calling out his name, his rubbing slowing down as his gaze now has a teasing glint to it. "N-Need more, please, Katsuki," There's a whimper in your voice, only barely hinting at the desperation that this man can stir inside you.

"More've what?" Katsuki grins at how flushed your expression is, your face dreamy as ever.

"Fingers, need them." You manage to prop yourself up on your elbow as the other reaches down to tug at the panties on your hip. Katsuki snickers at your impatience, his thumb pulling aside your panties to expose your soaked cunt to him. He gives you one last kiss on your inner thigh before he wordlessly dives in.

Katsuki applies his tongue flat against your cunt and gives you a long stripe up until it reaches your clit, just like what he had done with his knuckle moments ago. A breathless moan escapes your lips as he starts to swirl his tongue against the erect bud, his textured and wet muscle taking pride in its work. He closes his mouth around your cunt, leaning more to taste more of the slick that your cunny produces. The vibrations of him moaning from the taste makes you shiver, this feeling of having your cunt licked like this felt so familiar but foreign at the same time. His eyes stay glued to you as he pleasures you, finding everything you do so damn attractive to look at.

Lapping a bit more he pulls away and spits on your cunt using his fingers to lube you up more. He wraps one of his arms around your thigh and holds it to his shoulder, holding you in place as he finally inserts two thick fingers into your cunt. Soon enough, his mouth is back into your count, the tip of his tongue playing with the sensitive bud at the top of your pussy.

The sounds grow increasingly more obscene as he shamelessly laps at your cunt and works his fingers into you. His digits curl to find your g-spot, softly teasing the spot and eliciting more volume from you. You quickly try to hold back how loud you are, walls clenching around his fingers at how good it feels. You bite your lip and suppress a loud groan from slipping out, hips attempting to pull back with no use. Katsuki keeps you locked in close to him and ups the ante by using the tips of your fingers to continue to stroke at the sensitive spot of your g-spot. His tongue now applies more pressure to your clit to bring you further.

"'Suki--" You call out, your hand coming down to grip and tug at his hair. Shivers rack through your body as a long and drawn-out orgasm hits you, his movements aiding to help you bring you down from it. He pulls his fingers out and presses his tongue flat against your cunt to clean up the mess between your legs. You move your hips back in protest and he loosens his grip to let you do so.

You watch with bated breath as he starts to unbuckle his pants, your eyes glued to what is soon to be revealed. Katsuki's movements to get his garment removed are so fluid that you almost miss it when he pulls the condom out from his back pocket. He tears open the soft foil with his teeth and applies the slippery protection onto his hard cock. You instinctively open your legs when he draws closer, a soft mewl leaving your lips when he aligns his tip to your opening.

"You good?" Katsuki softly asks, his other hand holding your thigh open, thumb rubbing your thigh as he awaits your answer. You nod your head and grind your hips against his tip, hand coming up to pull him closer to you as you answer.

"Give it to me, Katsuki."

The man grins at your plea and lays you on your side, choosing to slowly sink himself into you from your approval. The obscene moan you let out gets covered up by Katsuki's lips finding itself upon yours again, happily taking in your willful noises. At first, he takes long and drawn thrusts, trying to accommodate his size for your comfort. This position allows no remorse and you already knew what you were in for when he put you in it. When you two separate from the kiss, his lips are quick to find your neck, his hands now respectively on your ass and thigh to hold you in place. Amid a deeper thrust, he gives an equally rough bite, the force making you moan. You relax your leg more to allow him to hold you better, him taking your actions as the go-ahead to pick finally pick up the pace.

You feel as though you are on cloud nine with his wet kisses and teasing bites covering your neck, his thrusts and handling furthering your ecstasy. His skin smacks against yours as he starts to get rougher with his thrusts, hands gripping you tighter too. You grip at the sheets below you and tilt your head back, mouth agape as you so desperately try to keep up with him. He gives your ass a spank when he feels your pussy clench around him, an animalistic growl coming from him as he repeats this. He pulls away from your half-covered chest and glares at the top of your dress, now getting annoyed at the article of clothing.

Katsuki doesn't slow his hips for a second as he more than easily rips open the top of your dress and earns a discontent whine from you that gets forgotten when he presses a bit deeper into your cunt. His lips press themselves to your newly exposed skin, his tongue happily taking in one of your nipples to suckle and nibble on. There's no mistaking that he's having free reign in the marks on your skin but you're too wrapped on how everything feels to care. An expletive leaves your mouth in a string of whispers when he angles his hips to hit your g-spot, prompting you to reach down and rub your clit for more stimulation.

"Fuck," Katsuki cusses under his breath as he leans up to watch you take his cock, nails digging into your skin and enjoying the way your pussy envelopes his cock. Not to mention the hot visual of you playing with yourself furthering his contentment. He lifts your leg a bit under your knee and quickens his pace. He watches with hungry eyes as your tits bounce at the force, a pretty face to match and his marks all over your body's skin. He groans as his thrusts start to feel heavier, his orgasm impending. He nearly loses it when you grind back against him to chase your release.

There was an air of innocence that surrounded you but everything you did said otherwise. Katsuki simply couldn't get enough of you and he simply didn't want to. Fuck, he wasn't expecting his daughter's best friend mom to be super hot and sweet.

"C-Cunming…!" You mewl, brows scrunch in concentration as you finish off on his cock. His swift thrusts help in coaxing it out of you, slick dripping from your cunt and messy-ing up your inner thighs. He swoops down to give you an open kiss, tongue pressed against yours haughtily as he follows your climax with his own after a few more pumps.

After a few lazy and exchanged kisses he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting you two. You laugh a little as you wipe the remnants away. "That's the best I've had in a long time." You jokingly cut the silence, a chuckle from him following.

"Could say the same." He softly grunts, pulling out from you, and gently places your legs down. He effortlessly picks you up and rests you further on the bed where your legs can find refuge on the plush mattress. "You okay, need me to get anything?"

The first question confuses you. To your recollection, you had never been asked that before. Not after sex when the deed has already been done and the willing participant has already had their fill. A pang of displaced emotions starts to wrack up inside you, a nervous laugh coming from you when you realize that you spaced out trying to conceptualize what you had just been innocently asked.

"Y-Yeah, I'm good! Thanks for asking," You smile sweetly and the cute expression earns a pat on the cheek from him. Shamelessly, the gesture shot a jolt of arousal straight to your core.

"You got a bathroom around here?"

Following Katsuki's departure leaves you in silence. There was a feeling of dissonance that you couldn't really place your finger on and the fact it was all coming together was undoubtedly giving you the worst post-nut clarity ever. You didn't regret having sex Katsuki, that wasn't the case, but how not sleazy he was certainly opened up your eyes. The male decency that you have been robbed of for so long was finally starting to settle and you didn't like the feeling one bit. Tears start to burn in your eyes and you desperately try to wipe them away the longer you sit in your thoughts.

Fortunately for you though, the doorbell sounds repeatedly which slowly brings you back to the present. Your once feelings of despair and disgust are now turning into annoyance. You take your time slinking out of your bed, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and huff at how disheveled you looked. The dress that you've been dying to wear was now torn and stretched, the condition bringing a pout to your face.

You undress fully and grab one of your robes to cover yourself up with, the piece is a bit scandalous but covering you well. You quietly make your way down the hall to not wake up the two girls (if they were awake they definitely would've interrupted you and Katsuki) and finally make it to the door. You peer into the peephole and softly gasp at the person behind the door. The doorbell starts to buzz loudly again and you angrily fumble to unlock your door, it now also occurs to you that the noise could be disturbing the two young girls' sleep.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" You greet your ex with much-deserved hostility.

Shindo simply rolls his eyes at your annoyance and crosses his arms as if it were your fault for his impatience. "I called and texted you multiple times. I'm here to pick up Niyuki."

You openly scoff at his demand, standing taller at his attempt at showing his dominance. You mirror his actions and cross your arms too.

"She's staying with me for the weekend. Why are you here?"

Your ex mockingly scoffs at you questioning him, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer.

"I need to explain why I want my daughter to be with me? You know, the parent who never neglected her once in her entire life." Shindo looks you up and down, openly grimacing at how fucked out you look. "You can't even control yourself, you have no shame, do you?"

As much as you try to keep up the strong facade, there is no denying the tightening in your chest. You don't want to admit it but his words hurt you deeply. His toxic words were starting to feel all too familiar and your body was starting to shut down.

"The agreement was that she would stay the weekend with me. Niyuki's having a sleepover with her friend, there's no point of you coming here."

"Do you think I fucking care about a "sleepover" when her mother is busy being a tramp when she's distracted?" He shamelessly accuses and shifts his expression to one of fake pity and concern. "Do you think you deserve her, hm? I mean look at you, running around and can't even stay committed to us even when I've tried."

"Watch how you fuckin' talk to her, asshole."

A voice filled with just as much disdain comes from behind you, the sheer amount of aggression battling Shindo's. You immediately turn to look at him, mind moving faster than your body in your shocked state.

"I'm sorry, who the fuck are you exactly?" Shindo tilts his head and reaches out to push the door further to reveal who the man is. He freezes when a blonde and spiked hair catches his eyes first, his mockery of emotions from earlier now turning into real anger and a hint of fear. "Bakugo-?!"

Katsuki grabs the edge of the door and pulls it open wider to allow him more space to pass, making sure not to harm you as he gets between you and your toxic ex. "You wanna repeat that, dickhead?" He fists up his shirt and backs him away from the door. "Is that how a hero treats a woman, eh?"

Shindo curses under his breath, fighting against him. The mach attitudes between the two start to boil over as it's obvious that they have met prior. When it escalates to more than words, you start getting a bit fearful. A more aggressive push from Katsuki prompts you to call out for them to stop. One thing about your ex is that he hated being out matched and there was no denying that Katsuki seemed like the type of guy to beat that out of him. It wasn't until their exchange seemed to elevate in volume and another light next door turned on. You plead for them to stop again, your hand lightly tugging at Katsuki's arm although knowing your touch wouldn't be able to do shit against a muscled man like him. Eventually they do stop on Katsuki's accord, both breathing heavily as they stare down at each other. Your ex aggressively scoffs and shoves Katsuki away from him as he looks between you two, gathering himself.

"Have fun with the little gold digger, Dynamight," Shindo says lowly and bumps shoulders with Katsuki as he leaves.

A heavy silence is left in his wake between you and Katsuki. You tiredly rub your face and breathe out a sigh, the exhale soon turning into a dry sob. Katsuki fidgets awkwardly before reaching out to you and pulling you close, letting you rest your forehead on his chest.

"Fuck, he stresses me out," You mumble against his tank, wiping away your tears. "I'm sorry you had to witness that…"

"Hey, he's fuckin' douchebag, alright? Who gives a fuck what he thinks." Katsuki pills away a bit to cup your chin and forces you to look up at him, the gesture warming your cheeks. "Let's get you cleaned up and you can rant about whatever the fuck you want, it's getting cold." He holds the collar of your robe and gives it a playful tug. You softly nod your head then lead him inside.

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

It had only been two days since you had first met and slept with Katsuki and the smile on your face never seemed to disappear.

Thinking about the man easily brought butterflies to your chest, memories of you two keeping you on cloud nine. After you two had gone back inside Friday night, he had comforted you in many ways. It felt silly to say it—that the foreign feeling you were getting in your chest only had one name: a crush. Not full-blown but enough that every time you thought about your Friday night—past the awful interaction with your ex-boyfriend—was one of the best times you have ever enjoyed yourself with a man.

Katsuki did listen to you. He cleaned you up, cuddled you, kissed you throughout, and eventually you two even two more rounds. Never had you felt so comfortable, so… domestic. It was evident that your bright attitude was something your daughter noticed too.

"Mommy?" Niyuki calls out from the doorway, successfully gaining your attention.

You press the small bento box you were prepping Mizuki to take home closed, a smile on your face as you welcome your daughter to make her way to you. "What's up, munchkin?"

"I have to tell you something," She tugs at your pajama pants, a look far from playful or childish in her eyes. You feel your heart sink a bit at how serious she is, bending down to get face level with her.

"Niyuki? What's wrong?" You hold her arms and pull her closer to you, trying to keep contact with her as she avoids looking at you.

"I don't want to go to Pa's this week, I want to stay with you."

You're taken back from her confession, unsure of how to process it. "What do you mean, 'Yuki? Don't you want to see daddy-?"

"No, I want to stay with you," Niyuki regains her courage to look up at you, establishing how much she truly feels. "I heard you guys last night. I want to stay with you more. Daddy's house isn't nice, I don't like it there anymore."

"Niyuki, I…" You shamefully look away at the fact she bore witness to that awful exchange last night. You felt awful that she had seen it, much less found out how dysfunctional your relationship is. You pull her in for a hug and nuzzle her hair and she is more than willing to take in your embrace. "I am so sorry you had to see that, baby. Mommy will see what she can do about how you feel being at Daddy's house, okay?" You hold her cheeks in your palms and she nods her head in agreement.

She places a kiss on your cheek and swiftly leaves the kitchen as if the exchange didn't happen, leaving you by yourself in the kitchen. You stare off into the distance at the exchange, not sure what to think or do with yourself. It wasn't until you felt a wet sensation coating your cheeks that you realized you were crying.

Faintly down the hall, you could hear Niyuki nagging at her best friend and the two giggling and playing around as children do. You sit down on the floor and rest against one of the cupboards as your doubts start to ease themselves, everything in your life turning around so fast that it's hard to grasp.

You had thought for the longest time that Niyuki was simply putting up with you. It is no lie Shindo has more resources than you. The money, house, toys, etc. he has everything you don't. He didn't need to work the extra shifts to make sure she had presents for special occasions, he could easily buy the things she needed and wanted. You thought the only things that could make a child satisfied were the things they could see, touch, and have. You didn't think the small things counted, not when you're an adult where a random Friday could have easily been one of her favorite days in her childhood.

You don't bother wiping the tears from your face as you try to pull yourself together, snot and everything clouding your nasal passage. Oddly you felt numb, like the joy you were feeling was foreign. Nothing felt real but you knew you couldn't stay sitting on your kitchen floor silently crying as you desperately tried to register what the hell your body was going through at the moment. You weakly pull yourself up using the counter to grab a paper towel from the dispenser on the counter and obnoxiously blow your nose into it. You mumble a few cuss words under your breath as you attempt to freshen up as you try coming down from the emotional rollercoaster of this weekend. As much as you wanted time to process this, doing it in a home with a kid who could barge in at any minute was hard. Especially when there are two.

The doorbell rings and you glance at the time on the stove. It was a bit early for Mizuki's mother to pick her up, but you decided you'd just invite her in until the child was ready to leave.

You lazily walk over to the door and peer into the peephole to double-check, your face twisting into an expression of shock as you pull open the door and wordlessly confront the person on the other side.

"... Do you normally answer the door looking a mess?" Katsuki teases, giving you a look over and lingering at the places he seems to like.

You jokingly nudge him and roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you stand a bit taller, feeling your heartbeat pound against your chest. "Haha, very funny." You sniffle and wipe your cheek, the gesture not going unnoticed.

"Did something happen? Did that prick come over and harass you again?" Katsuki grows angrier at the idea, his expression souring.

"No, no, it wasn't that." You quickly ease his concerns and this time remind yourself to look around to make sure there aren't any extra ears before stepping out and closing the door behind you. "This morning, Niyuki told me she wants to stay with me, not just on the weekends." You look up at him finally, your lips immediately curling into a soft smile once you're able to say it out loud.

He grins and pulls you in for a hug, giving you a squeeze when you wrap your arms around his shoulder and squeal. He rocks you back and forth before pulling away while maintaining his hold on your waist. "This shit feels unreal, you know?" You lightly laugh as you look up at him, a radiant smile on your face.

"Her mother is amazing, of course she'd want to stay with you." Katsuki gives your hip a squeeze with his free hand, the action pulling your attention to the solid object digging into your side, the feeling making you look down at his hand.

"Oh," Katsuki steps back and holds up a slim, medium box that had a ribbon tied around it, holding it up for you. "Here."

"For me?"

"Who else, dumbass?"

You snort at his bluntness and shoot him a playful glare as you open the gift. It takes you a few seconds to realize what it is, a gasp following your surprise at the expensive dress, and start to close it back up. "Oh my god, I-I can't have this!"

"Why not? You'll look perfect in it." Katsuki pulls you closer with his hand that was still on your hip, his other landing on your abandoned one. "Pretty girls deserve pretty things."

You playfully push him away and look at the box again before looking up at him. "Seriously, for me?"

"Yes." Katsuki holds your chin up and softly rubs your bottom lip under the pad of his thumb. "And you better get used to it, I'll be buying you a lot of those."

"Why?" You laugh, leaning into him and tilting your head up to challenge him.

"'Cuz I'll be tearing a lot more stuff off of that pretty body of yours," He leans closer to brush his lips against yours with a smirk on his face, "Plus, I need an excuse to see you again."

He seals his promise with a kiss, hands coming up to hold your waist as he presses himself against you.

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

It had been a few months since you and Katsuki had officially started dating. Your mood significantly has changed for the better and made it a lot easier to adjust to having your daughter now finally staying with you instead of her father.

It was hard being able to advocate for yourself but the verdict was in favor since the child should be able to choose where to stay. It did help the fact that your new boyfriend, who you had learned and realized is a top pro-hero in the country, just so happened to bring the best kind of reputation to the courts.

As adults do, you did talk to Mizuki's mother before deciding to fully go through with dating the man. Ultimately it is true that she can't decide what you two do, but you owed it to her for being such a good friend to you and didn't want to step over any toes. She was more than happy to give her blessing and practically threw him over to you, more than happy to let things rest since she is soon to be married anyway.

There was nothing that could prepare you for this turn of events and every day it was easier to wake up feeling happy and blessed. Currently, you just got your culinary degree so that also means one less stress and burden off of your shoulders and another venture soon on the horizon: a head chef.

You just adjusted your graduation gown and looked around for your family, your face immediately lighting up seeing them not too far from where the graduates are exiting. It took almost everything in you not to run in excitement when you were finally able to make it towards them.

"Congratulations, honey!" Your parents are first to engulf you in a hug, the rest of the group close behind. You chuckle as two smaller bodies take your legs, none other than Niyuki and Mizuki claiming each side.

"Congratulations, Mommy!" Niyuki grins up at you.

"Thank you, Niyuki." You lean down to kiss her on the forehead and do the same for Mizuki.

"Do I get a kiss too?"

You look up at the inquisitor, a grin sprouting out on your face as you stand back up. "Of course."

He pulls you in and gives you a kiss, the action getting a mix of responses to the show of affection. Katsuki presents to you a beautifully arranged bouquet along with a promise that there were a lot more gifts back at his place.

Most days in the past you prayed for times like this, but now you were happy you didn't have to anymore.

    all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter or copy this work.

[illumnis]

for love in trouble. ― for someone who relied much on their logic, often times, they avoided the subject of love. love to him was simply, too much of the unknown, too much of what he wasn't good at; his feelings.

pairing: various x gn!reader

warnings: errrr emotionally constipated boys, mushy gushy euwey guwey feelings :), unedited!!!

note: err i'll make a haikyuu mlist later maybe

it's love, they say. they- as in his closest confident who was nothing more than unreliable. or rather, in his words, piteously romantic.

if he is valentine; his confidant is proteus- when he loved, he was all consumed. but he digressed; after all, he didn't want to think of his friend. he wanted to think of you- er, your effect on him he means...

if it were true that he loves you, then he believes it counterproductive.

a paradox how he hates the way his heart put in the work to double its beat when you were around, but he loves your presence; believes it a gift. a paradox how he hates the way his carefully thought out sentences turn a puddle in his hands when he was around you, but how he loves your twinkling eyes that wait patiently for him to collect himself; he believes you are truly an angel, his blessing from the gods for ever single good thing he has done in his life (which, to him doesn't seem like enough to be deserving of your life).

ever since he has had the ability to grasp onto a coherent conscience or reason and logic, he believed himself nothing special; someone who was simply born to achieve merely out of ambition. but compared to you, someone who, he believes was born from divinity to grace the earth with their love and knowledge; he suddenly thinks he's the piteous one.

that, or, maybe he's giving you too much credit. while you are nothing short of beautiful in every factor possible, from the way you smile all the way down to the beat your heart sang, you are beautiful. a taste of dismay lingered on his tongue like the bitterness of cough medicine when he thought of anyone else who may see you the same.

of course, as unreliable as his version of proteus was, he still confided. much to his chagrin, he was told he was being jealous even without substance.

of course, there was nothing he could argue to that point; for there was nothing he could use to defend himself. after all, he had spilled his guts out only to be told the truth.

his confidant only laughs at his silent irritation.

"y'know... i actually ran into them earlier. they asked about you actually."

whether his ever so pesky confidant mentioned you because he knew exactly which buttons to press or simply just telling him a truth he knew that he would cherish silently (or perhaps both, which does not seem like a reach), he can't help the fact that his mind drifts back to you.

despite the truth- the fact that he does, find himself extremely head-over-heels for you- being a hard pill to swallow, he takes a deep breath. courage builds up in his throat, and he swallows it without much more fight. if it meant that both your hearts would beat the same song around each others' presence, he'd face even the highest of hurdles, even if the first step was coming to terms with his confusing feelings.

― men who prefer facts over feelings, but when it comes to you, the two seem to bleed together: alhaitham, sakusa, nanami, kuroo, yaku, xiao, kita, megumi, gojo, diluc, wanderer.

navi. mlist.

[yaekiss]

#Mailroom Open!　──　hey my darling <3 letter delivery for kaeya and i’d love to have a yandere w/nsfw reply back! any petnames are good with me, i promise <3 letter below the pink!

“To my dearest, Kaeya,

It’s almost shameful how you have me wrapped around my finger. There’s only so much a man can do when you fill my mind, and even in work, I can’t help but imagine what you’d be doing, how you’d let me shower you with all the affection such a jewel like yourself deserves. A day spent without you feels sacrilegious nowadays with how you’ve carved your place into it.

How are you faring back in Mondstadt? It must be a chore with so little to do without me there with you, but I know the wine will always be sweet and the flowers always in their lively beauty (though it can’t compare to yours, I’m sure.) I hope you’ve kept an eye on Diluc: you know how he works himself, so have him take it easy every now and then. He runs the tavern you love so much, after all.

I can’t see you soon enough. May the gods bless me so that I can be back home sooner than I know.

— Your love”

( in a box containing the letter, there’s a bottle of regional wine intricately wrapped with a gold bow, alongside a bouquet and a lace choker. you know i had to do it <3 )

꩜ Letter Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Subby! Kaeya, no gendered terms for reader, Kaeya calls you "my heart", mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood, unhealthy and obsessive relationship from Kaeya, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: Phew! He sure replied fast, it's almost as if he knew you were sending a letter to him! :3c Anyways, I wonder what he replied with? ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!

In return, Kaeya sends back a box as well, no bigger than the envelope stuck to the top of it. The deep royal blue envelope’s material is glossy and pearlescent, holding it under the moonlight produces a faint shimmer, one that reminds you of his eye.

Upon opening the letter, your senses are greeted by the waft of Kaeya’s perfume, the same one you gifted to him months back when you returned to Mondstadt from yet another arduous work trip. Eyes scanning over the contents of his reply, the words are written in outstanding but legible cursive, impressive penmanship (tsk, always a showoff). His love letter reads:

“Addressed to my one and only,

Much thanks for the presents, my heart. You truly know my tastes, the wine was magnificent and went down smooth, almost impeccable. The only thing that could improve it was if you were there as well. I do so dreadfully miss you too, I find myself sighing whenever I reach out for your hand only to remember you’re away in Fontaine for work. Are you sure I can’t convince you to leave your job? I could take care of you, you’d never find yourself needing anything, other than me, of course.

I digress. Back to the subject at hand, Mondstadt is, well, the same as always. Nothing much to report about. My days are immensely duller without you around, obviously. Diluc’s still not much fun to be around but I suppose he’s been well, so no need for you to… (There’s some words scribbled out here with a squiggly doodled arrow pointing to it, saying “Ignore this! :)”) fret over him at all.

It’s just that… I can’t bear to be away from you, my heart. You say I have you wrapped around my finger but it seems to be the opposite. Since you entered my life, it was as if you were Orpheus: coming to rescue me, but unlike the tragedy, I won’t lose you, and you won’t lose me. Not even the gods above could keep me from you. Not one moment does my mind stray from the thought of you and how I need you close by and the way I can’t bear to… (The words are scribbled out again, this time it’s messier, shaky lines uncharacteristic of his usual neat strokes. Another squiggly arrow points to the dark mass of ink, saying “Ignore this too! :)”)

All I want to say is, we are much closer than you might think, my heart. I’ll keep this short, I’d hate for you to bore of me.

Counting down the days till we truly meet again,

- Kaeya Alberich -

P.S. I have a picture in the box reserved for your eyes only, enjoy ♡”

Removing the lid of the box, a vial on a gold chain catches your eye, it glistens, almost as if beckoning you to wear it immediately. Its contents are a deep red and swishing it around reveals how it clings to the sides of the bottle. Not wine then. There’s a tag hanging from a ribbon tied around the clasp, in Kaeya’s signature handwriting it reads, “So I’ll always be around my heart.” Flipping it around, there’s 2 reddish-brown thumbprints on the back, stamped so that it looks like a heart. 

After putting the accessory on, you move on to pull out a smooth card stock from the bottom of the box. How scandalous. The cavalry captain is shown, knees tucked under him on the bed as he’s clad in lacy white lingerie, hands on the sheets in front of him as his arms push his tits up to accentuate them. A white garter belt wraps around his thigh and fuck, the tip of his cock is peeking out of the sheer ivory fabric, precum already drooling from his slit. The bouquet you gifted him is in the shot as well but what really draws your attention are the dribbles of wine cascading from down his lips to his chest, staining some of the white lace a deep crimson. To top it all off, he’s wearing the lace choker you sent him, how obedient!

However, the more you look at the photograph, the more off putting the atmosphere becomes. The background looks suspiciously like the rooms of the hotel you’re currently staying at. The lighting is the same hue. The furniture matches up too. Everything is strikingly similar, right down to the carpeting. Squinting, you can just about make out the room number on the keys captured in the shot.

It’s the room next door.

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[artist-issues]

Yeah, again, you can tell that the creators of Wish wanted certain moments to be impactful and to hit as hard as any other animated Disney movie’s moments did. But they didn’t. Because there was no convincing build-up for the moments to peak on.

You can tell which moments they are.

When Asha and the King sing “At All Costs” - If you listen to the song on its own, and you have no context (which is to say, you make up the context on your own) it is moving. Because it’s a pretty-enough song with vaguely passionate lyrics, once you assign meaning to them. But the movie doesn’t build up why this song should be an impactful declaration for either Asha or Magnifico. We already knew that Magnifico made it his job to “protect” the wishes (which are the subject of the song.) Asha, on the other hand, has only just been introduced to us, and we know she “cares too much,” so we already knew she’d protect people’s wishes. The song isn’t giving us a deeper understanding of them, or a more interesting angle to look at their motivations.

But, that’s not really the problem. The problem is that the wishes are the subject of the song. And that whole concept, of wishes being tangible objects that hold the most important and beautiful part of people’s hearts, but when they’re tangible, they remove that part from the person, is bad. It’s not good to try and build a story of stolen-treasures on.

Because that’s how they’re treated. Like treasures that the king is hoarding, after manipulating the people of Rosas into giving them up. And you know what? That’s a terrible thing to sing a protective love song to.

Just think about it this way: the story is about a King who takes everyone’s favorite keepsakes (family jewels, ornaments, old photos) and promises to protect them, but in actuality…for some reason…the moment they hand the keepsakes over, they forget whatever made the keepsake important to them. And then the King and a young woman sing a heartfelt song to the photographs and old brooches about how they will love and protect the photographs and old brooches.

Do you see why this song is pretty but not impactful in the story? They shouldn’t be singing to the wishes. Even Magnifico. They should be singing to the people. The movie plays it as if that is what they’re doing—singing a heartfelt promise of protection to a person, or a people. But that’s not what they’re doing, and do you know why?

Because the people have forgotten their wishes.

By definition, the actual human beings in Rosas cannot care (believably) about the bubbles in King Magnifico’s tower. They can only vaguely care about the chance of being happier than they are now, someday, if the wish they don’t even remember is granted. And what a terrible lesson, never mind plot point.

Anyway.

I digress. The point is, for a personally-worded, vow-of-protection-song to hit the audience meaningfully, it needed to matter to the person receiving the vow. But there is no person receiving the vow. Because of the narrative and lazy concept, only Asha and Magnifico care this much about the wishes. Because the people who made them have forgotten them. (More on this when I talk about Asha’s mom.)

When Sabino’s wish is not granted - This is supposed to be like a “Tiana’s restaurant gets taken away from her when she’s outbid” moment. The character is crushed when the thing they wanted and really believed they would finally get is taken away.

Doesn’t work in Wish, though. Because of a few things, but the main two are:

The audience has no reason to believe this means so much to Sabino because he hasn’t been shown really longing for his wish to come true.

This movie avoids any vulnerable emotion in facial expressions.

When Tiana loses her chance to have her wish come true, it is also unfair—she was already promised the property, but the brokers accepted a larger offer anyway, and it’s implied to be because of racism. Similarly, everyone acts like Sabino is entitled to (“promised”) having his wish come true because he’s so old and it’s his birthday. Plus we, the audience, know that Magnifico isn’t rejecting his wish for good reasons, and that Sabino’s wish is unselfish. So it’s meant to feel unfair and sad when he doesn’t get it, but it’s not. Not like it felt with Tiana.

Not only does the lazy concept of wishes and forgetting them once they’re tangible hamstring all of this—but the fact that Sabino has had nothing but a handful of sparse lines (ones like “we don’t know for sure that I’ll get my wish granted”) to convince us that he really cares about this hamstrings it, too.

When Tiana loses her restaurant property, it’s only about 24 minutes into The Princess and the Frog, and we have already had:

1 - A song about how hard she’s worked for it. 2 - An opening scene where her relationship with her father connects the restaurant to a deeper, more personal meaning for her.

3 - Several scenes where she is shown doing drastic things to get enough money for it; her drawer full of tip money; the two jobs she works with only a minute’s sleep in between; her friends asking her to come dancing but reiterating the fact that she often loses time for fun and their good feeling toward her because “all she does is work.”

4 - We are also shown that people don’t believe she’ll get it. The cook at her job mocks her for her wish, which makes it all the more important to the audience that she gets it—to prove the jerks wrong.

Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the restaurant is directly tied to Tiana’s character flaw AND her strengths, at the same time, so that it’s killing two birds with one stone—we’re shown who Tiana is, and we’re convinced to empathize with her when something sad happens to her.

Sabino has zero of those things going for him. No character details or set pieces to hint to us that he wants the wish to be granted so badly—no speeches about what it means to him—no memories tied to how he began to wish for this thing—because there can’t be. Because he’s spent 82 years not wishing. Because he’s lived the majority of his life totally forgetting what he wanted. You couldn’t logically show any evidence that he wanted it that much, then, could you?

So Sabino can’t be shown caring too much about not getting his wish. Therefore the audience doesn’t care either. We’re shown a glimpse of his sad face, and Asha’s sad face, and then told, “now feel sad!” But the work wasn’t put in to make it happen.

They cut their legs out from under themselves.

Now you could say, “well it wasn’t really about Sabino’s disappointment, it was about Asha’s disappointment.”

Yeah, but that doesn’t really hold up either. I’ll explain how in the next moment-that-should’ve-made-us-feel-something failure:

When Asha’s family doesn’t believe her - This scene is very clearly supposed to be like the one where Mulan has an argument with her family about her father going to war, and knowing her place, and he yells at her and she runs out distraught.

You definitely feel for Mulan and care about how she’s feeling in this scene—you might even cringe at the part where her dad yells at her. Part of that is because the scene is so well-done—there’s the buildup of tension as the camera cuts between each family member quietly drinking their tea, refusing to talk about the day’s devastating events. Then Mulan bursts out by slamming her teacup down and starting the yelling, herself, in outrage. Her dad stays quiet and steady like he has the whole movie up till now, so then when he stands up and shouts at her, about the exact thing she has been so upset over since the Matchmaker’s, the audience really feels the impact.

You don’t feel the same way about Asha, and it’s not just because her family argument scene wasn’t done as well—it’s also not just because, as you can see above, the movie keeps tiptoeing away from emotional vulnerability in the way the characters look.

It’s mostly because there’s been no impactful buildup to this scene. Again.

When Mulan has an argument with her father, you know what it means to her to have him yell at her about doing what’s right in her own place—you’ve had the whole first few scenes of the movie to convince you of it.

Mulan is upset because she wants to find her place and she loves her father very much. But she does not, ever, say the words “I love my father so much.” She doesn’t even outright say things like that before the argument. She doesn’t say to the Matchmaker, “Won’t you please give me another chance? My father has been praying about this for weeks, and I can’t bear to disappoint him. My father is a great man; he fought for the Emperor and was wounded in the wars; for his sake, can’t you help me?”

Asha does. Asha says to King Magnifico (but really, to us, the audience) “My grandfather’s wish! It’s beautiful.” And “Your Highness, couldn’t you grant his wish?” And to her friends, and to her mother, and to her grandfather himself—over and over she just reminds us with flat, “okay-we-get-it” dialogue and exposition of what she wants.

Whereas Mulan shows us. She convinces us. She runs up to her father, in the very first scene, and we’re shown that even though she has trouble remembering what she’s supposed to say to the matchmaker—even though she has trouble remembering what time it is and getting her other chores done—with this one part of her life, her father, she can remember exactly what the doctor said about how much tea he needs to drink. And she is prepared for her own clumsiness to make sure he gets it.

And even after she doesn’t get what she wants, and is shown to be so ashamed she can’t even look at him (because that’s how much she loves him and cares what he thinks) the only thing that makes her feel better is when he carefully compares her to a late-blooming flower and basically promises that he believes in her, anyway. We know how much Mulan cares about her father because we’ve been convinced by the way the movie artfully and carefully shows it.

We also know that she cares about knowing her place, specifically because of her family’s wishes for her. So all of this combines to prove to us that having her father shout at her about knowing his place and why he’s going to die willingly is a devastating thing for her. Enough for her to run out of the house sobbing and cling to a pillar as if she can’t hold herself up.

But when Asha runs out of the house (barely sobbing, just kind of breathing fast, because there’s no vulnerability in this movie) and stumbles up to a tree in the same way, we don’t really believe something so devastating has happened to her.

Everything happened too fast. She just kept saying she cares about Sabino’s wish coming true, and that she loves him. When he explodes at her (and really out-of-nowhere asks if she wants to “break his heart”) it’s the first time he’s shown any kind of intense emotion, either toward her, or about his wish.

There is no build-up. So it just feels awkward, and kind of like a high school production where one of the kids hasn’t even been trying to act, but in one scene, he suddenly starts yelling because that’s what his character is supposed to do. And it’s just cringe because you haven’t seen that level of energy, happy or sad, good or bad, at all up until now.

And that’s a problem because it leads right into Asha’s “This Wish” song, which is supposed to be like her “Mulan riding off to war” moment. But it’s not set up well by the emotions tied to the family argument, or the emotions tied to the conflict with the King, so you don’t really care.

Moving on to the next emotional-moment failure:

When King Magnifico threatens Queen Amaya - I don’t have much to say about this one; I think you’re getting the point. When there’s nothing but bland words and one-liners spoken to convince us that the characters are thinking and feeling how they’re thinking and feeling, moments like this one just feel boring and forced. And try-hard.

Like, the lighting? The music? Fine. Good. When he points his new magic wand at her threateningly, and clearly appears ready to betray her? All that stuff is fine. It just hasn't been built up to, so it doesn’t hit.

It’s like, “that’s it?” He just says one line about, “Are you betraying me?” And she pours forth a bunch of lines like “no I’ve always believed in you and in Rosas.” And then he’s basically like “okay, I’m convinced, moving on” which of course is him already knowing that she’s betrayed him and already having a plan to trap Asha…but still. From Queen Amaya’s point of view, there’s nothing emotional here.

We’re supposed to believe they’re madly in love and that she trusts him wholeheartedly, so that when he falls to dark magic and she chooses to side with Asha it’s this big moment. But it happens so fast.

There’s no moment where Queen Amaya grieves her husband. There’s no real sense of loss, or even of impactful betrayal. The voice actress delivers every line like she’s trying and failing to feel what the character feels as she reads the lines to a 5 year-old who needs every concept spoon-fed to them.

And King Magnifico drops her like a bag of dirt instantly. No sense of loss from him, either. He’s not even condescending to her, like, for example, Mayor Lionheart was to Dawn Bellwhether in Zootopia. Or like Jafar was to Iago. All of those things would’ve made their quick severing of bonds to each other make more sense.

But we’re not shown that Queen Amaya has sensed any darkness building in her husband over the years, and is just now realizing that this is the last straw and maybe he was never the man she thought he was. She treats him like she adores him (blandly) for the whole first half of the movie. No hint of doubt. Even when he goes for the forbidden book the first time, she easily convinced him not to and then wandered away like “well, took care of that.”

When Asha’s mother loses her wish - The biggest problem with this moment is still lack of buildup, and that is because the tangible-wish forgetfulness thing is stupid as we’ve established. We don’t believe she feels grief, even when she says she does, because we don’t know this woman at all. We don’t know what she wants, or how badly she wants it—we certainly don’t feel that she’s been missing her wish.

But the other offenses are worth mentioning. When Asha’s mother’s wish is broken by Magnifico, she just…gasps. And her father-in-law says her name, and Asha yells something typical like “no!” She looks a little weak in the knees, like maybe she can’t walk for a second, so the 100 year-old man supports her.

But the cameras spend no time on how this is affecting her. The shots of the family escape in the immediate aftermath of this world-shattering thing don’t let us see Asha’s mother’s face. Not that her facial expression is that devastated, anyway. It’s just “typical sadness” expression. There’s a shot where they’re going from the house to the stolen horses and if I remember correctly, Asha’s mother has her back to the camera the whole time; I was looking at her because I was like “something devastating just happened; this is the most interesting part of the scene.” But there was nothing to see.

They could’ve had her visually turn grey. They could’ve had her go mute, stare off into space, suddenly become scarily unreachable. They could’ve had her weeping uncontrollably. They could’ve just had her go catatonic—after all, we’re supposed to believe that even the chance of having “the most beautiful part of her” returned to her heart was just destroyed. Wouldn’t that logically make a person…cold? Calloused? Unfeeling? Uncaring? But no. She’s as just keen to express concern for Asha and apologize for being wrong about Magnifico and urge Asha to keep believing in herself, passionately, as she would’ve been before. No big deal, just lost the most beautiful part of myself forever.

Doesn’t help that we never knew what the mom’s wish even was, so even we can’t miss it.

So when she gets her wish back at the end, and she’s like, “come home.” It’s just…cringey.

When Asha convinces the crowd to wish for Magnifico’s defeat - The idea of the movie is that “the power of the stars is in you because we all came from stardust, so keep wishing and working toward it even when it’s hard.” So this moment is supposed to be impactful.

But it isn’t. Because that kind of thing isn’t impactful. They literally sing a song, glow, and Magnifico is defeated. Even if we were supposed to believe Star was dead, and this is bringing him back like Tinkerbell coming back to life, it’s still not impactful. Because one, it happens way too fast. And no character really emotes about it, like Peter did when he thought Tink was dead.

Two, that hasn’t been the point of the whole movie; the main character never had trouble believing that she was powerful enough to enact change. She barely doubted her own wish. If they wanted us to be excited that she could win based on the stardust in her heart, and in the kingdom’s hearts, alone, then they should’ve given us several scenes where it’s like “Asha is relying too much on Star’s power.”

But no, doubt and disbelief and reliance were never character flaws of hers for this moment to overcome. She doesn’t really have any character flaws, let’s be honest.

Even if you want to say “well sure, Asha didn’t doubt her own power, but the kingdom did! Otherwise, why would it’s citizens have put so much reliance on King Magnifico?” Okay, that’s nice, but 1) that is never solidly or impactfully alluded to in the story, beyond jokes about how handsome they think the king is and the literal plot point of trusting him with their wishes. And 2) having a whole kingdom of background characters believe something false and then get their minds changed in a split second is not nearly as impactful as having the main character’s mind changed first—and then she passes that knowledge on to them.

Like Judy Hopps learning to try to understand Nick, then encouraging all of Zootopia to try and understand each other. Like literally any good story where a whole kingdom needs to realize something.

Also it is never a good idea to defeat your villain just by singing about how you want to defeat your villain. Nobody should have to tell Disney that. They wrote the book on this.

But this movie was made by a company that no longer knows itself.

I could say more, like about the moment where Asha supposedly is at her lowest, or the part where Star “leaves,” or when her friends work together, or the “Knowing What I Know Now” song, but it’s all the same problems.

[ineffably-smote]

Macbeth, David Tennant - A very subjective, spoiler and emotion filled review

Just walking out of seing Macbeth at the Donmar and I have Feelings. Unsurprisingly, I primarily went to see it because David Tennant was in it. I love the play, big fan of Shakespeare but the trip to London was most certainly motivated by a very specific actor. Hence the highly subjective review. Fortunately, I also happen to quite like Macbeth. We studied it at school, and it holds a special place in my heart (back then, Hamlet was my favourite Shakespeare play but honestly, after tonight, I’m not so sure anymore. Anyway, I digress). It was my first time actually seeing an actor I’m a fan of in real life, so obviously the entire time my brain was just going oh my god that’s David Tennant oh my god that’s David Tennant like I actually could not comprehend it. The man I’ve spent hours staring at on a little screen is suddenly real, and right there. So yeah, that took me a hot second.

(Excuse the piss poor image quality, I took this with shaky hands without looking or bothering to focus the cam)

The Staging

Still starstruck and a bit dazed, one thing really really stood out to me: the staging. It was so, so good. I knew it was going to be minimal from the pictures I had seen, and it was, but it was also so insanely real. There were barely any decorations, and half the cast and the musicians were hidden behind a glass screen doing background noises and gestures. From where I was sitting I could not see them much, but could definitely hear them which added to the overall atmosphere. The stage was also really tiny, and the play benefitted incredibly from it. All the action was happening in one tight space that had been put to use incredibly well, particularly the banquet scene but I’ll come back to that because it deserves its own paragraph.

The way they chose to do the soliloquies was so fitting - all the actors start to move in slow motion - everyone else slowing down and just the characters speaking moving was so good, it made sense.

The Headphones

I’m a bit mixed about the headphones. They were amazing for the vibes, we could hear whispers and they really heightened some of the emotional speeches in the play - because when someone is struggling with guilt and trauma it makes sense for them to be mumbling rather than yelling. So that was really great. However, especially in the scenes where the actors where yelling/ loud I preferred to take them off a bit cause it felt more real that way. I’m so used to hearing actors voice on recordings, it does hit different when you can hear them for real. But, as I said, personal preference and that’s what’s nice, you can take them on and off as much as you want.

Famous Speeches

There were three speeches I was quite interested to see how they were going to be adapted - scorpions and dagger for Macbeth, and out damned spot for Lady Macbeth. These are classic, everyone knows the words, the plot but they managed to make it feel real in a new and touching way. I think here the headphones were quite helpful because they allowed the actors to actually whisper parts of those lines. They were so subtle, so embedded in the text they felt so natural which imbued them with all their power. I saw in a review Cush Jumbo’s out damned spot speech be described as “haunting”, and I wholeheartedly agree.

The Macbeths

I didn’t like Macbeth, the character, very much when I first learnt about him. His actions didn’t make sense to me, I couldn’t quite comprehend in my 21st century little brain how he went from I’m super loyal to the King to I will freely murder children for shits and giggles. But now, now I understand. It makes sense, it’s believable. And that’s a mix of the acting choices and teh overall setting. Like the opening scene, instead of presenting Macbeth as a glorious hero, he is presented to us as a traumatised hero. He spends the first few minutes washing the blood of his clothes, haunted by noises from the battlefield. And that sets the themes quite nicely, not ambition, as Tennant specified in an interview, but guilt and trauma. There are so many ways to interpret Shakespeare, that’s the beauty of it, and I think this version of Macbeth just resonated more with me (maybe because ambition I don’t quite understand but guilt I am intimately familiar with? Or maybe because it was David Tennant? I don’t know, probably a bit of both). Tennant delivers a convincing Macbeth. Yes, you can see his ambitions play out, but also his fears, his guilt, and that makes him into a complex three dimensional character that you want to understand.

And I absolutely loved this version of Lady Macbeth. Not just a powerful woman who bullies her husband into become an evil murderer (because again, here we can see traces of that in Macbeth from the start), but an ambition woman in love, with her husband, with power, and not quite healed from the trauma of loosing her child. Again another review said she is more of an enabler than a manipulator and I quite liked that description.

My Favourite Scenes

God the banquet scene. The one with the ghost of Banquo. An absolute masterpiece. I did not expect that scene to hit that hard. It was raw, it was powerful and even if Tennant was facing away from where I was sitting, even without seeing his face I could feel the emotion, the whole audience could. In a video essay on Tennant, @davidtennantgenderenvy highlighted how in almost every role he played, there is it is the classic Tennant breakdown moment, and breakdown moment it was. Not with tears, not as expressive as he sometime is but just enough for a King trying to hold it together but fear and guilt breaking through. I was absolutely overwhelmed and it was beautiful. The set up for the scene was amazing too - there were ceilidh, celebrations, I adored the contrast between these fast pasted scenes and guilt ridden whispers of the couple. And the way everyone sat down around the stage and suddenly it looked like a banquet table ? Just perfect.

Another really cool moment, less on the emotional side but more on the visuals was when Macbeth goes to get the second prophecy from the witches. Almost the whole cast is there, running around, moving, almost dancing and it gives the whole thing a mystical atmosphere. There’s smoke, Macbeth falls, is carried up high Jesus style, cowers, rises, it’s so busy and insane all the while there are whispers and whispers in the headphones - it manages perfectly to feel like a mystical moment.

Descent Into Madness & other cool things

For Macbeth, having the kid running around scene after scene, haunting him, and then scene where he kills him - GOD it’s powerful. Lady Macbeth’s descent into madness was so well characterised, I also loved the glass on the background that locked away some of the cast. Just wild. The actor that played Malcom actor was also really cool, and Macduff and Ross, big fan of all of them.

Overall I am overwhelmed with emotions. Tennant is truly one of my favourite actors - from Good Omens to Staged, Jessica Jones, even Harry Potter but also Mad to be Normal, Nativty, There She Goes, Around the World in 80 days, Doctor Who (god I’ve started a list, never start lists cause you’ll forget people) and so, so many more, I was truly beside myself with excitement and expectations for tonight. And it did not disappoint. I do not want to leave the theatre and I pray they release a recording of this because I want it imprinted on my soul.

(Side note: I don’t know how to use tumblr very well, for some reason whenever I try to reply to ppl it posts from my other blog? Anyway @raquel-and-sergio is in fact me)

[crushmeeren]

Fem Reader/Simon Petrikov — Fionna & Cake Version

Warnings; slight cursing, sometimes Simon struggles getting hard, blowjobs, vaginal sex, squirting, mention of masturbating

Note; I wrote this for my Simon girlies 😭—also I’m just unhinged, I needed to write this so badly okay. just please enjoy this brain food about sweet Simon and his struggles being older and getting hard. I really do hope this reaches the people searching for it. 🫶🏻

••••

When you started sleeping with Simon, you already knew that he was older than you, quite a bit older in fact. Not that it’s an issue—especially since you find older men unbearably attractive anyways. You think it may have to do with the fact that the age difference can be such a taboo subject, but you digress.

Let’s be honest, Simon is so, well—pretty, for lack of a better word. It never fails to drive you up the wall. So when you did start fucking—it was a pure fantasy come true moment for you.

It’s just—you’ve started to notice something intriguing. At first, it was just a fleeting thought. Now, you’ve realized that when you do get to be naked and tangled in Simon’s sheets—those times are often sporadic, spaced out, inconsistent.

Which is of course okay, you wouldn’t ever pressure him to do more than he wanted. You just —you can’t help but wish he wanted to have sex more often. Selfish, you know. But surprisingly enough—the old man has a damn filthy deep stroke! Hell, Simon’s the only one who’s ever made you cum enough to squirt.

All that being said, you do feel a little guilty, because you know your sexual appetite is sky high. You’ve been told so on more than one occasion and you’ve generally come to terms with it. You’re more than happy to take care of yourself when needed.

But after awhile of this mouth watering, mind numbing sex, you become aware that Simon seems to only want to roll around in the sheets with you once per meet up. Again, nothing wrong with that, but the seed of mild curiosity as to why he doesn’t want to do more has been planted in your mind.

The first time this new concept rattles around in your brain, it’s more of an absent thought. Really just a casual observation. It’s during one evening in which Simon’s able to direct you away from the train of thought that leads to a second round so easily it’s creepy.

You only remember later when you’ve gone back home, close to passing out for the night. Charming bastard.

Truthfully it only starts to consume and rot your brain after you start spending the night in his bed more often than not. Instead of going home like you were before. The heavy palm of realization smacks you across the cheek when you’re staying the night with Simon one night over the weekend.

You’re both lying comfortably in Simon’s bed. Soft blankets covering you up to your shoulders as you lay on your side, watching your pretty companion. He’s propped up by a couple pillows against the headboard, reading part of his book in the gentle glow of his bedside lamp.

The man looks relaxed. Salt & pepper hair starting to curl slightly at the ends due to previous activities causing him to sweat. His cheeks are still a barely there rosy pink. He’s also only in briefs at this point, chest bare. The sight causes desire to spark heavily in your belly once again & you can’t help your next moves.

Failing in an attempt to be sneaky, you stretch languidly, reaching over to gently rest a hand on his bare belly. The pads of your fingers moving to tickle the soft expanse of skin over his ribs, causing him to shiver.

You see Simon chew his bottom lip as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. He’s white knuckling the edges of his book as you continue to teasingly trail your fingers over his sensitive flesh.

“Are you alright lovely?” Simon’s soft voice dances in your ears. He’s looking down at you directly now, absently adjusting his glasses. You answer with an affirmative hum, dragging your fingers up the middle of his sternum.

You swallow a breathy sigh as you notice his nipples get hard from your feathery touch. Simon looks like he can’t help the way his eyes flutter shut momentarily.

“M’alright Si, how about you?” You murmur, brushing a thumb over his perky nipple. Simon gasps softly at the touch, squirming and the lusty action causes your pussy to clench. The familiar delicious, low burn of arousal licking at your lower belly. Fuck, this wasn’t your intention, but now you want to ride Simon until he’s whimpering and drooling.

“I’m well sweetheart, but don’t you think it’s time to sleep?” He coos, letting his open book rest in his lap. He runs the backs of his knuckles over your cheek lovingly. It does not stop you from pouting.

“Siiiiii,” you whine, slightly confused, but pulling your hand back to your chest. He’s not wrong, it is late & you are tired. But now you’ve worked yourself up, the thought of sex very tantalizing.

“I know what you want silly girl, it’s late though. How about we try in the morning?” Simon soothes, setting his book and glasses on his bedside table. Effectively shutting down the possibility of a second round.

“Fine,” you huff, pushing out your lower lip at him. “But I definitely am jumping your bones in the morning.” Simon laughs, the sound overwhelmingly sweet, and turns off the bedside lamp.

“Deal sweetheart,” he breathes, lying on his side to face you. Pushing at your shoulder to turn you around so he can spoon you. You oblige, letting him pull you back into his chest, snuggling under the covers.

You feel Simon’s plush lips brush over your the nape of your neck in a kiss, bidding you goodnight. You let your entire back side press up against his front, getting comfortable, soaking up his body heat. As you drift off, you realize that Simon wasn’t even the least bit hard from your teasing.

••••

It’s early when you start to stir. You crack an eye open, able to make out vague shapes in Simon’s room. Rays from the rising sun starting to peak through the blinds, casting small shadows all around.

Simon’s arm flexes around your waist and you can feel the warmth of his slow, rhythmic breathing ghosting over the back of your neck. It makes a shiver rumble down your spine.

Your thoughts are jumbled at best, arm tingling under the pillow you’ve been resting your head on. Too warm, too cozy, you think. You’re covered completely with a fuzzy blanket, Simon’s toasty, naked chest radiates warmth through your shirt to your skin. It feels like you’re cocooned in a blanket just taken out of the dryer.

You’re falling prey to the cozy atmosphere, letting it lull you back to sleep when Simon’s hand slowly slips under your large T-shirt, smoothing over your hip before resting on your stomach.

It’s innocent at first, but then his nails start to scratch soothingly back & forth over your lower belly. Each pass he teases downwards. Getting closer & closer to the patch of curly hair that sits above your clit.

You’re unsure if he’s being intentional or not, but your brain has shaken off some of the groggy feeling at this point. The sensual sensation of Simon’s fingers give your pussy its own heartbeat. You rub your thighs together in frustration.

“Si,” you whisper, voice saturated with sleep. Simon only makes a soft, sleepy noise in return. His breathing hasn’t changed, you assume he’s still asleep. You wiggle in place, entire body flushing hotly underneath the blanket as his fingers continue to torture you.

Your stomach clenches involuntarily when he barely brushes the skin connected to the top of your curly patch of hair. Heat smolders low & sweet in your lower belly, you’re getting extremely turned on. Clit throbbing painfully.

Yet Simon doesn’t move his hand any lower. Almost as if it’s meant to be a comforting gesture instead of a sexual one. Briefly, the thought of pushing his hand lower occurs to you.

You desperately want the older man to play with your clit. For Simon to rub slow, sweet circles into your perky bud until your blood feels like it’s been replaced with a warm, syrupy heat. Except he’s not budging & you’re going to cry if you don’t get some relief.

“Simon,” you whine quietly, flipping around in his hold until your face to face. He doesn’t open his eyes yet, answering with a questioning hum, settling his warm palm on the flushed skin near your hip bone.

“You’re teasing me,” you breathe, rolling the man onto his back with a firm push to his shoulder. He goes easily with your touch. Instantly, you’re straddling his hips, blanket now pooling around his thighs. You’re wide awake as you take in Simon’s adorable, sleepy appearance. Dark hair splayed around his head.

“No, m’not,” Simon rasps, voice thick with sleep. His eyebrows are scrunched cutely, half lidded eyes staring up at you. The older man was clearly dead asleep.

“Yes you are,” you hiss playfully, leaning down to trail kisses up his neck and over his jaw. He sinks his nails into the tops of your thighs. A heady pulse of arousal shoots to your pussy as he grips you tightly.

“Nnngh! Sugar,” Simon whimpers, tilting his head. He sounds too sweet and you’re worried your pussy may be leaving sticky kisses on his pelvis from how wet you’re getting.

“You’re acting clueless, but I know it was on purpose, Si,” you murmur softly, pressing the words into his skin, lowering your mouth and sucking on the skin over his adams apple.

“I-oh gods, it wasn’t on purpose,” Simon chokes on a moan, arching his back slightly, base of his skull digging into the pillow.

“I don’t believe you,” you whisper in his ear, smoothing your hands up his chest & pinching at his perky nipples. Simon jerks violently underneath you, crying out. Your blood sings in response. You need his thick cock inside you now—or you might die.

You shift your hips backwards, fully intending on grinding your ass over his cock, but then Simon’s hands are gripping your waist frantically.

“Sugar—wait!” He gasps, trying to hold you still. You’re already grinding yourself down onto him as he speaks. Shocked, you feel that he’s, at best, only half hard. Stilling in his grip you glance back at his face. From what you can see, his cheeks are turning pink and he looks away from you shyly.

“You okay Si? Do you need me to stop?” You prod, feeling concerned you’ve done something he didn’t want. His gaze snaps back to your face, eyes wide. He shakes his head desperately.

“No! No, don’t stop lovely, I really am enjoying myself,” he pauses to worry his bottom lip, urging you closer to him with a soft squeeze to your hips. “You know that I’m quite older than you, right my dear?” Once both your hands are planted on the mattress by his head, Simon gingerly places his palm on your cheek to cradle it.

“I know Si,” you sigh happily, leaning into his touch.

“It’s a bit embarrassing, but…sometimes it’s a bit harder for me to get it up, even if I’m extremely turned on,” Simon admits, voice low & sultry. He rubs a thumb over your cheekbone. Your arousal burns with a vengeance.

“That’s not embarrassing baby, I..kind of think it’s hot I’ll have to do a bit more to get your cock hard,” you mumble, cheeks sweltering as you tilt your head to kiss his palm. Your belly warms, twisting harshly with arousal and shame.

Simon gasps softly in your mouth when you take it upon yourself to lean down, firmly kissing his velvety lips. He feels fucking amazing. You move together so smoothly, letting Simon swallow your sinful moans as his tongue pushes into your mouth.

Simon lets both his hands frame your neck, thumb pressing into the hollow of your throat. You whine as your tongues play together, Simon licking behind your teeth and suddenly you can’t take it anymore. You break apart slightly to breathe, chest heaving.

“M’gonna suck your cock Si,” you whisper breathily against his lips. Simon chokes on a breath. Determined, you start kissing down his chest. Pillowy soft lips brushing over his nipples before continuing downwards.

Simon squeaks from the attention to his nipples, fisting the sheets under him. You easily snake your way between his thighs, fingers hooked in the waistband of his briefs.

“Oh! A-are you sure my love?” Simon moans, feeling you kiss the sensitive skin directly above his waistband. You just hum, sliding his briefs down, purposely letting his half hard cock catch on the stretchy band. He sucks in air through his teeth as soon as his cock is free.

You almost drool over the way his cute dick slaps softly against his pelvis. Your pussy aches as you pull his underwear off all the way. Taking the chance, you also peel off the shirt you were wearing, tossing it to the floor. Simon flushes to his chest, staring at your tits.

“Your cock looks so cute like this Simon,” you croon, getting back onto your belly. The older man whines, titling his head down to watch you place chaste kisses on his shaft. The silky, warm skin feeling so good on your lips. You’re so turned on right now it almost pisses you off.

Making sure Simon’s cock stays straight the way you want, you nudge your thumb right up under the crown of his head—keeping his cock stretched slightly, pinned to his pelvis. Lazily, you place several kisses, letting his cock guide you down to his balls— where you lick the puckered skin of each one.

Simon yelps as you suck one in to your mouth, laving your tongue over it. The older man’s nails dig into the back of your skull, making your scalp tingle down to your neck.

“Please lovely, please, don’t tease,” Simon mewls, feeling you release his ball with a wet pop. His dick twitches a little under your thumb when you stare up at him with a wolfish grin. He’s a little harder now.

“So needy Si,” you tease, moving your hands to his thighs, swallowing down his entire semi hard cock in one go. Simon wails, hips jerking up as you teasingly pull your mouth back up his cock, sucking harshly.

You moan around him, starting a brain melting pace for him as you suck on his cock. Flicking your tongue over the head with each pass. Your eyes flutter shut, taking a second to appreciate the way he tastes.

Simon is panting harshly above you, whimpering and moaning. The delicious noises he’s letting out are making you want to squeeze your legs together for any type of relief.

Ignoring your own arousal for now, you keep up your pace for a couple minutes, feeling Simon writhing in your grip. He’s only a tad bit harder now but you don’t let that stop you. Your jaw aches, but you eagerly move a hand to his balls, kneading them between your fingers.

That..seems to do the trick. If only because the noise Simon produces sounds as if it was wrenched from his chest. You bob your head a few more times & suddenly he’s rock hard in your mouth. Cock hitting the back of your throat consistently as he rolls his hips to meet your movements.

Simon’s going insane—wiggling, whining like you’re torturing him. Back arching, trying to fuck your mouth. You would giggle if your mouth wasn’t full.

“Princess,” he gasps, pushing at your forehead. “Enough, please. I want to be inside you,” Simon moans, voice breaking at the end of his sentence. It’s like music to your ears and internally you pat yourself on the back for being able to get him hard.

Your lips pop off his cock with an obscene sound, watching it slap wetly against his lower belly. You could drool seeing how full and heavy his cock is. It glistens from your saliva. Pretty dick twitching under your gaze.

Urgently, you crawl out from between Simon’s legs flopping down on your stomach next to him. You turn your head to see his expression. His face is flushed, he turns his head to stare back at you, mouth open as he pants.

“Fuck me from behind Si, please??” You purr, desperately getting onto your knees and pushing your ass into the air. Letting your cheek squish on the mattress, the soft sheets warming underneath your skin. Simon groans as if he’s in pain. He vanishes in a flash, crawling around to get behind you.

You wait, knowing your pussy is drooling for him, clit swollen and throbbing—just wanting Simon to fuck the shit out of you.

“There’s no way I could say no sugar,” Simon croons. You almost could cry in relief, gripping the blanket below, fabric bunching in your fingers when Simon trails the pad of his thumb through your slick folds, thumb slippery where it circles your clit.

“Si don’t, please, I don’t need anything else—just fuck me,” you beg, wiggling your hips on his pelvis.

“Hush princess, you know I’ll give you what you want,” Simon teases. As he speaks, the tip of his cock parts your folds, slowly pushing his tip inside, stretching your pussy just the way you like—the anticipation of being filled is killing you.

A high pitched moan is ripped from your throat as he bottoms out in one smooth thrust. The pure pleasure of it rushes up your spine to your brain, pussy clenching around Simon as he carves out a space for his cock.

“Si, baby, you feel s’good,” you slur, nuzzling your face against the mattress. Nails dig into your fleshy hips as Simon moans lowly in his throat at your praise.

You’re absolutely not prepared for the immediate rough, fast pace that Simon sets. You howl his name as he starts yanking you back into his thrusts, pussy stretching to fit his cock repeatedly.

You’re in heaven, Simon’s actually fucking you. Usually he starts slower, building up to it—not this time. You’re absolutely loving it, having to muffle your near screams into the mattress as Simon perfectly hits your g-spot over and over. Each thrust sending waves of warm tingles shooting to the tips of your toes.

“Is—ah fuck, is this what you wanted sugar?” Simon grunts, unable to hold in his sweet moans.

“Yes! Fuck Simon!” You cry out, voice edging into a sob. He almost growls under his breath, the lewd sound of his pelvis smacking wetly against your ass, echoing through the room. Simon rests a dainty hand on your tailbone, guiding your ass back into his movements.

The sensual action forcing the familiar knot of an impending orgasm start to tighten up in your lower belly. Simon’s fucking you perfectly. You’re clawing at the sheets, pushing your ass back into his movements and it’s over.

Your heart is in your throat, pussy fluttering, and you don’t even have time to warn Simon before you’re cumming so hard your vision gets blurry. Entire body tensing up, warm waves of pleasure rushing through your limbs. No sounds escaping you as you’re worked through your orgasm relentlessly.

“Oh! Sugar, you’re cumming already? That’s such a good girl, give me another one, pretty please princess?” Simon breathes, asking sweetly. Completely opposite to the way he’s railing you. The man’s trying to rearrange your guts.

You nod against the mattress, chest sticky with sweat. Melting just a tad, your limbs become even more bendable as the overwhelming high of your orgasm fades to low buzzing pleasure. Simon sees the opportunity and takes it, pressing both hands into your lower back, forcing your spine into a deeper arch.

You inhale sharply. The new angle allowing Simon to press his cock even harsher against your sweet spot. He’s merciless and you know you’re re gonna squirt this time when you cum.

“Si, oh fuck, oh my god, m’gonna squirt!” Your lower belly tenses up, pleasure swirly hotly in your gut. There’s a pressure on your bladder intensifying to a sharp peak.

“Really? Oh sugar, I love it when you squirt, please do it for me,” Simon encourages eagerly, pressing harder on your sweat slick back.

“Simonnn,” you sob, dragging out the last syllable of his name. The older man gets his wish, because it only takes a handful of thrusts until you’re cumming again, toes curling so tight you think you may get a cramp. Hot liquid gushes from your pussy, showering the sheets below and decorating parts of Simon’s thighs.

“Princess, oh, oh my—,” Simon cuts off with a throaty groan, pushing his cock in all the way to the root, draping over your back as he starts to cum. You’re just starting to return to earth as you feel his cock twitch, filling you with sticky, warm cum.

You feel gooey, exhausted & overheated as Simon leans his weight on you. You push your knees out from under you so you both collapse to the mattress, letting out an oof as you land. Wincing, you feel the mess you made chilly against your thighs.

“Si, get off—you’re heavy,” you huff. Simon laughs, letting his soft cock slip out of you as he rolls off and onto his back. You stretch, sighing happily as the two of you lay in silence, soaking in the after sex glow for a few minutes. Simon’s voice cuts through the air.

“So, you really don’t mind about my, uh, issue,” he asks shyly, shifting to see your face. You gaze up at him adoringly, turning onto your side.

“I definitely don’t mind, I told you, I think it’s kind of hot. Makes me feel like I earned a reward,” you giggle, searching for his hand and lacing your fingers together.

“Mm, you’ll definitely have to spend the night more often. Maybe we could even consider becoming something…more than causal lovers,” Simon murmurs, squeezing your hand in return.

“I’d love that,” you whisper, chest blossoming with warmth. Simon grins sheepishly at you in return. Eventually, you two do get up, changing the sheets, before falling back asleep for the rest of the morning—looking forward to the sweet promise of the future.

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (VIII) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The beginning of sixth year proves to be quite eventful. Y/N manages a new nickname and solution for the Black brothers.

Part VII / Part IX / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: HPB begins! I always find myself accidentally using gendering terms like miss/mistress/master so I have to be extra conscious about it when I'm editing.

Your sixth year at Hogwarts kicked off with a suspiciously smooth start. Rather, it was quite an unexpected beginning to the year with Professor Slughorn taking over Professor Snape’s post as the Potions teacher. It felt strange to no longer feel tense going into the Potions classroom, but you would be lying through your teeth by saying that the quality of instruction improved. Regretfully, it felt like the opposite.

Professor Slughorn had a penchant for talking in roundabout ways and digressing to the point of incomprehensibility–at least Snape was clear and short with his words (though you suspected that the tightness of his robe collars limited the amount of words he could speak everyday). 

The shock of such changes barely had time to wean away before you were mind-boggled by another, rather larger, surprise. Harry, whose performance had always been teetering the edge between passable and dreadful in Potions, was suddenly topping the grades in your year for the class. 

Improving was a great development (perhaps even expected, now that Snape was gone), but improving fast enough to overtake Hermione in the class was outright suspicious. You weren’t going to prod Harry, having already witnessed Hermione’s scathing looks towards the boy’s cauldron and Ron’s clueless pleas for help. 

Besides, you would be a hypocrite to scrutinize the boy, having your own secrets that you held onto tightly. If it wasn’t corrupting your friend or interfering with his well being, you’d leave the issue be (even if you did suspect academic dishonesty). 

However, your sentiment towards the subject seemed irrelevant at the moment as you grew increasingly irritated with the concoction in front of you. 

‘Reg, how in Merlin’s name is Harry doing this? I swear that this thing in front of me resembles more of a sludge than a potion.’ 

‘Patience, little bird. Are you certain you followed the instructions exactly?’ 

‘If this is a jab about me being illiterate, I will obliterate you.’ Your thoughts had somehow managed to convey your frustration, coming out a bit snarky. 

‘I’d bet my left arm on the likelihood of that never happening, but no, it wasn’t a tease. You will be fine, Slughorn is a lenient grader.’ 

Your shoulders sag in exhaustion at Regulus’ words, the aching between your shoulder blades intensifying with the action. Deciding to abandon the failed mixture, you slowly inch towards Harry, making a show of looking at his potion. 

“I have to hand it to you, Harry. At this rate, you are definitely getting an O on your Potions N.E.W.T next year.” Your words are met with a wide grin, and his eyes briefly dart to his textbook, hand moving to shift it from your line of sight.

The subtlety of an ogre, this one. 

Continuing to stir his potion, he hums appreciatively, “Thanks, but it’s really nothing. I’m just relieved that Professor Snape is teaching a different subject this year. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to take Potions at the N.E.W.T level.” 

“Ah, right, this class is a prerequisite for the Auror training program. Well, if only Professor Snape could see you now, he’d drop from shock, I’m sure.” You smile lightly at the thought, eyes gazing around Harry’s workbench. 

An explosion sounds from behind the two of you, no doubt originating from Seamus’ table, but you both pay no mind to it. Slughorn rushes past you, no doubt making sure that Seamus hasn’t blown himself up, and it’s enough to have you trudging back to your boiling mixture. 

No use in blowing up your own cauldron and having Slughorn fuss around. 

In the time that you spent away from it, your potion managed to thin out a bit more and morph into a color that better resembled the correct shade. Honestly, you were just comparing yours to Harry’s and hoping for the best. 

Watching the mixture swirl for a bit longer, you decide to occupy yourself by reaching out into the mind link. 

‘Reggie.’

‘Hm?’

‘My potion is almost done and I’m bored.’ 

‘Oh? Are N.E.W.T-level classes not challenging enough for you, little bird?’ 

‘Merlin knows I’m suffering, I’m just adept at hiding my crippling anxiety over it all. Not all of us can be as impressive as you, Crowface.’ Your last remark is tinged with playfulness, and you duck your head down to hide the growing smile on your face. You’d have no chance of being invited to the famed Slug Club if Slughorn took you for a lunatic. 

Regulus’ confusion rings through the mind link, and it takes him a few delayed pauses before his voice chimes out again, ‘Crowface? My nickname for you is actually pleasant, and this is what I get in return? It’s hardly fair.’ 

‘Think of it as less of an insult and more as a term of endearment. Crows are intelligent birds, and you’re pretty much the smartest person I know.’ 

If you could see the look on his face at the moment, you have no doubt it’d be a look of bewilderment, eyebrows drawn together and lips parted ever so slightly in a frown. 

‘My very first nickname, and it makes me sound like a plague doctor.’ Regulus’ words come out mumbled, getting across his feelings of dismay without giving you the satisfaction of hearing  him sulk. 

Choosing to ignore the faint grumbling coming from him, you pour your potion into a vial, fairly satisfied that it almost mirrored Harry’s. It was passable enough in Slughorn’s eyes, and you can only imagine Snape’s offended sneer in your head at the mess that’s befallen the Potions curriculum. 

After Slughorn praises Harry for his potion, leaving everyone to watch on in a mix of confusion and awe, you’re all swiftly dismissed. You could cry from relief as you leave the classroom, the fresh air cooling your lungs and relieving your migraine. Seriously, if you didn’t die from a potions accident by the end of the year, you’d surely suffocate to death from all the smoke in the class. 

Stretching your arms over your head, you sense your friends catching up to you, a giddy Harry practically skipping beside you. Peeking over to him, your eyes can’t help but dart down to the book tucked against his side, bouncing on his hip with every step. 

“Bloody hell, mate. Do you think I should owl Charlie for help?” Ron’s face is twisted in a grimace as he stares off into the distance in worry, no doubt imagining a back-up career plan. 

Quirking an eyebrow, you turn to him with crossed arms, “Charlie? Why not Percy? Didn’t he get O’s on all of his N.E.W.T’s?” 

You were quite impressed with your friends and the number of N.E.W.T-level subjects they were qualified to take, but nothing compared to the nightmare that was Percy Weasley as you remember Ron telling you that he took 12 N.E.W.T classes during his time at Hogwarts. The absolute headache he probably had for two years straight was shudder-inducing.

Ron shakes his head in dejection, gripping the strap of his bag, “No chance. He still hasn’t made up with Mum and the lot, and he’s too busy with his fancy new job.” 

“Still? Helga, it’s been over a year now hasn’t it?” Your exclamation is met with a grim nod from the ginger, while Hermione hums at the news, seemingly unsurprised by the family’s continued rift. 

“He sent you that letter last year though, didn’t he?” Harry’s words are meant to be comforting, but comes out with a bitter sniffle, the  joy from his successful potion seeming to dampen. 

“Oh? The letter where he told Ron that he should cut ties with you because you’re bad news and I’m the wrong sort and all that?” Your playful tone has Harry groaning, clearly realizing just how sore he still was over the older boy’s words. Honestly, you could care less about Percy's opinions, not feeling the need to impress someone who was chumming up to Fudge and his circle.

Shooting Harry a quick amused smile, you wave quickly to the trio as you all part ways: Hermione heading to Charms, Ron to Transfiguration, and Harry to Defense.

‘Off to Runes now, little bird?’ 

Patting your pocket, your chest grows warm and you don’t attempt to suppress the smile that flowers over your face as you hear Regulus’ voice. 

‘Sure am. Afterwards, I’m heading to the library to try and read up more about soul hexes. Kreacher did a great job in picking out a selection.’ Over the summer, you were able to get through nine hefty books, and it only took countless all-nighters and daily pleads to Merlin to end your suffering. 

You brought the last few books you had left to read with you to Hogwarts, and you were absolutely resolute on spending any available second you had on researching. None of the books you got through so far had any hexes that caused familiar symptoms, though you did end up finding some rather horrifying mutilation spells and diagrams of which body parts were useful for sacrifices. 

Fascinating information, really. You now knew you could use a severed foot to cast blood curses. 

Despite how morbidly engrossing your research turned out to be, you were itching to quickly figure out a solution. There was no doubt that prolonging Sirius’ curse would only bring severe consequences, and the Order needed him–Harry needed him, especially with Voldemort’s forces creeping in. 

As if Mother Magic was smiling down on you, your work came to fruition not even a week later. More precisely, it was exactly 3 days later when the answer slapped you in the face with a turn of a page.  

It was nearing curfew and you were sitting in an abandoned corner of the library, your stack of books glamoured to look like Runes textbooks. You had left Regulus back in your dorm, and you were definitely feeling his absence as your reading droned on. As you were progressing through a particularly worn book, one of the curses had you jolting up in your seat. 

Anima Involutus 

A soul curse which allows the caster to chain down the soul and magic of their victims through transmutation of hatred and anger. This curse may only be casted by a caster with a depraved soul or by a high-tier dark mage. The effects of the curse on the caster range from madness, seizures, paranoia, and death. 

Victims of the curse experience violent constrictions of muscles, effectively stopping the heart temporarily while their soul begins to become entangled by the chains of the caster’s malice. The victim will enter into a comatose state until the caster’s hatred grows strong enough to snuff out the chained soul, effectively rendering the victim into a shell of who they used to be. 

Protections: It is recommended that high-tier dark mages put in place charms of protection to mitigate potential side effects–

You highly doubted that Bellatrix was a high-tier dark mage, much less that she actually had the sense to put in place protections for herself. The witch was mad, so she probably couldn’t even feel the effects of the curse. 

Running your finger further down the page, your attention is grabbed by an elaborate explanation on how to reverse the curse. 

In order to lift the curse, the caster must intentionally retract the chains– yeah, that’s unlikely– or a ritual must be performed. 

The ritual must be performed in the presence of a wizard or witch of greater magical power than the caster. The ritual circle may be composed of any healing and reversal runes, however, complex runes will be higher in effectivity. 

Deciding to cut your reading short, you shoot up from your chair, sloppily beginning to shove your belongings into your bag. You needed to get this information to Dumbledore as soon as possible, anxiety filling your nerves at the thought of Sirius’ soul being snuffed out. 

Practically bolting out of the library, you nearly miss the blank look being shot at you by Draco, his frame towering over a nearby table. Harry had confided in you about his worries over the Malfoy heir, growing suspicious that the platinum blonde was now sporting the death eater insignia. 

But why was he watching you of all people? You just hoped he wasn’t actually a junior death eater, he was still a minor after all.

You didn’t want to dwell on it, feeling pity bloom in the pit of your stomach. Draco had constantly sent jibes at your friend group over the years, but he was a product of his upbringing and you had a feeling he was capable of change. In a way, you saw Regulus in him.  

Slowing down in your tracks, you look over your shoulder at the boy, sending him a hesitant nod, and what you hoped was a reassuring smile. He looks surprised by your cordiality, but the expression disappears just as quickly as it appeared, and he turns on his heel sharply. 

Sighing and trying to move on from the strange interaction, you continue to make your way to Dumbledore’s office, speeding around the people milling around the corridors. 

As you quickly pace up the stairs to Dumbledore’s office, you reach out to your mind link with Regulus, ‘Crowface, I figured it out. It’s some soul curse that binds the victim’s soul.’

You feel Regulus’ magic briefly entangle around yours as he reaches into the mind link almost immediately, ‘Will he be okay?’ 

‘I think so, I’m heading to Dumbledore right now so he can perform the ritual to reverse it.’ 

‘Thank you, little bird. I’m glad…’ 

You wait for him to finish his words, but he falls into silence, so you decide not to push him, letting him figure out his own thoughts. Redirecting your focus to the objective, you catch your breath as you reach the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore’s office. 

“Pepper Imps.” 

You didn’t question the strange password, just grateful that Dumbledore was keeping you updated with his passwords in case you made a breakthrough. Though, for future reference, his pattern of having sweets as a password would help you immensely if you ever wanted to break into his office. 

The gargoyle turns 90 degrees to the side and the adjacent wall rumbles before partially retracting to reveal another staircase. Quickly springing up the stairs, you’re soon met with the sight of a pacing Dumbledore, an exhausted Remus sitting just ways off from the restless headmaster. 

“Headmaster, Professor Lupin!” Both men snap their heads in your direction at your intrusion, quickly straightening up. 

“Y/N, I’m hardly your professor anymore, just call me Remus.” You smile softly at the tired man, appreciating his uncanny ability to make any situation comfortable.

“No can do, sir. But, I come bearing good news. After many hours of research, I managed to figure out the curse that Sirius was afflicted with. It’s reversible, but you need to perform the ritual, headmaster, or at least, you need to witness it.” As you quickly explain the situation to them, you dig around in your bag for the book, quickly flipping through the pages and practically shoving the information into their faces. 

When both men are finished reading, they share an approving glance before facing your anticipating figure. 

“Well done. We will need to get started right away. Remus, why don’t you take Y/N with you and have the floor secured. I will deliver the news to Harry and join you right away.” Dumbledore barely gets his words out before his body is moving towards the exit. 

Startled at the news, you step towards the fleeing Headmaster, “Wait, sir. What do you mean? I don’t believe I’ll be of much help.” 

Dumbledore twirls around and flashes a congenial smile, his eyes twinkling like they always did when he seemed to be reveling in a particular good thought, “On the contrary, you are the key to the success of this ritual. Now, no need to worry about curfew, I will personally escort you to your dorms later.”

Without another word, Dumbledore is practically flying down the stairs, leaving you to bask in confusion with Remus. Looking at the man, you find that he is already looking at you with a proud glint in his eyes. 

“He’ll be okay.” Your words are more to reassure yourself than anything, but Remus seems to agree, putting a firm hand on your shoulder and squeezing softly. 

“Yes, nothing has ever stopped Sirius, he’s always been stubborn like that.” 

The older man’s words have you grinning briefly, before you’re occupied by thoughts of what’s to come.

The events that unfold in the following hour are hard to recall, your brain defaulting to autopilot, the world seemingly pushed back in a glassy blur. You do remember making your way out of the floo network, joined by a hopeful Dumbledore only minutes later. 

As the two men crowd around the book to read through the ritual in detail, you are instructed to begin drawing up the rune circle as a few healers prepare Sirius for the process. At first, you’re unsure about why you were given such an important task, but Remus’ reply shuts you up immediately, “Professor Babbling sings your praises, I don’t doubt you will finish with the highest Runes marks in Hogwarts history.”

The flattery was exaggerated, but it doesn’t stop you from wanting to preen a little, even accidentally sending a pleased pulse of magic into your mental link with Regulus. Luckily, the boy knows better than to try and reach out to you amidst your concentration. 

As you finish off the last few runes, you sit back on your heels to admire your work. The intricate markings were splayed in a neat, wide circle in the middle of the room, the lines of each rune character seeming to swim and dance in your vision. Magic was amazing–either that or you were getting sleepy. 

Remus and Dumbledore step onto opposite sides of the circle, a healer levitating a pale, clammy Sirius into the middle. Looking up at the men for guidance, Dumbledore gestures for you to stand in between them, near Sirius’ head. 

“Okay, Y/N, we just need your help with the rudimentary aspects. The incantation is liberabo animam, the movement is a small ‘S’ shape.” Remus’ words come out soft, and he doesn’t look at you all the while, his eyes locked on his unconscious friend. 

Nodding quickly, you pull out your wand and steady yourself, practicing the movement once before signaling that you were ready. Confidently casting the spell, you have little time to ponder if you were successful before you’re overwhelmed by Remus’ magic. 

His magic was unlike yours and Regulus’--where you were cold, Regulus warm– Remus’ magic was like a blooming petrichor in the lungs. The blanket of magic surrounding your body shed away as Remus continued to perform the ritual, a sudden chill entangling itself with the magic you felt before. 

It felt like your magic. 

But it wasn’t. 

Where yours was like an ocean breeze, this magic was like the first touch of winter. 

This second coat of magic…was this Sirius’ magic? 

With wide eyes, you watch as the rune circle beats rhythmically and glows. Sirius’ muscles begin to twitch sporadically and you dart your gaze to Dumbledore worriedly, but he seems nonchalant so you bite down your concern. 

The man was taking his role of being a witness too literally–seriously, he looked like he could go for a butterbeer. 

Moments pass and everything is ripped away at once–the magic, the glow, Remus’ voice–it goes completely silent. Your heart skips in anxiousness as you watch Sirius’ unmoving body in anticipation. 

Suddenly, a groan resonates around the room. 

“Urgh…wha’ hap’en’m” Sirius’ voice comes out scratchy, and he’s slurring his words to an almost incomprehensible degree, but you laugh in relief at the noise. 

Suddenly feeling weak in the knees, you drop down and make eye contact with Sirius, who’s managed to tear his eyes open and was currently gazing up at you tiredly. Clearly his throat furiously, a low silence ensues before he grins, seeming to collect himself. 

“Hey, kid. You look like shit.” 

Rolling your eyes at the man, you barely have the energy to reply, “The pot calling the kettle black.” 

Sirius chuckles at your words before quipping back, “Last I checked, I’m Lord Black, so the pot calling the Black a kettle.” 

Glad to see he was still the same. 

“Remus, did the book say anything about possible brain damage?” Your words send Sirius into a fit of laughter and you’re worried for a second that he’s going to cough up a lung. 

Remus shoots you an amused look before he’s hauling his friend up in a tight hug. Smiling at the scene, you only tear your gaze away when you feel a hand fall onto your shoulder. Looking up, you see Dumbledore smiling at you, gesturing to the exit with a tilt of his head. 

Time to head back then. 

Standing up on shaky legs, you pocket your wand and say your goodbyes to the men, promising to come visit with Harry sometime soon. As soon as you’re out of the room, you excitedly tap into your mind link with Regulus. 

‘It worked, Reg. He’s okay.’ 

‘That’s fantastic…I’m glad. How are you holding up? Are you okay?’ Ever the worrywart.

‘I’ll be fine, just a bit tired. Don’t worry about me, Crowface.’

‘Hard not to, you always seem to find yourself in the face of danger.’ You swear you could hear a sigh coming from him, and you fight off the grin threatening to appear on your face. 

‘Just the perks of being friends with the Boy Who Lived’ Smiling lightly, you hear Reggie huff at the reminder, still caught up on the fact that you were probably sitting snuggly at Number Two of Voldemort’s hit list. 

“I presume something good happened?” Dumbledore’s voice has you pulling away from the link, staring at the man who regarded you happily. His eyes seemed to cut through you like a laser and your skin prickled at the intensity of them, carefully tearing your gaze away. 

You just hoped he wouldn’t push you to divulge about your Crow over tea and biscuits. 

Nodding at the question, you quickly turn to face the floo network, stepping inside as you answer, “I guess you could say that. See you in a moment, sir.” 

You grin widely and throw down the powder, enunciating your words carefully so as to not land somewhere unsavory (Harry’s cautionary tale of ending up diagonally instead of in Diagon Alley never quite leaving your head). 

As you feel yourself being tugged away, you hear Dumbledore laugh good heartedly, and the sound echoes around you as you are hauled back to Hogwarts. 

Merlin, you were going to sleep like a log tonight. 

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txoru @surelysherly @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @urgurlfave @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger

[oxygenbefore1775]

thinking about Zeke's blond lashes

➳wc: 0,6k

➳a/n: im not sure if other culture have this but where i grew up you can make a wish if you blow away one of your lashes that fell on your face (although normally you would have to guess on which side of the face the lash has landed and only if you guess right your wish will have a chance of coming true but i digress); this is my comfort written piece if you wish to have it (cuz everything is not daijobu at the moment and this is my coping mechanism)

“Unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath when you noticed a cup of coffee in Zeke's hands — the very same one he chose to leave your embrace for not so long ago. “Do you not want to sleep tonight?”

The unamused tone contrasted sharply with your eagerness to welcome him back into the cradle of your touch as you wrapped your arms around him as soon as he settled back onto the couch. Fortunately, he spared you from teasing despite your inconsistent display of affection.

“You hush,” he shot back, a facade barely concealing the smile on his lips once again. “I’ve had so much of it on the missions that this small amount wouldn’t do anything to me. It takes much more than a single cup before it has any effect.” 

The sound of his voice beckoned your reciprocation. The unspoken tension that once filled the air dissipated with the onset of the night, as if the last remnants of it had died. Why would that be, you mused to yourself, even though the answer didn't require much pondering. 

He would leave come morning.

A dreadful thought — almost worry-inducing — you had to admit to yourself as your mind sought refuge in the relish of his fleeting proximity. Even more so as you lifted your head off his shoulder, your gaze finding its place on his features, solemn and bathed in the moonlight. How silly. To mourn the presence of someone not subject to change. He’d never return — return to you — with a wound forever marring his perfect form. Well, perhaps his eyes were the only thing worthy of languishing in your heart. That forever impermanent look to them was something that you wished to remember.

It was then that you noticed. 

You hesitated but spoke nonetheless. “Stay still.”

He heeded, though a brief flinch betrayed his obedient front when he felt your finger brush under his eye. A frown etched into his glabella as he discovered the reason for your unbidden touch — an eyelash, as golden as his hair. Almost imperceptible against his fair skin. The only reason you noticed it, your morbid urge to revel in the sight of his face aside, was the way it caught the moonlight.

His eyes, evidently, remained oblivious to the unexplainable burst of joy this revelation caused you as he reached out his hand to brush the lash off your fingertip. Quickly, you withdrew your hand, determined to prevent this atrocity from taking place.

“No,” your voice barely above a whisper. “You have to make a wish then blow it away. Then it’ll come true.”

With that, you brought your hand to his lips. In the dimness of the room, you exchanged glances — yours full of anticipation, his devoid of the same sense of wonder that captivated you. It was a rare occurrence for you to closely observe the glimpses of emotion flashing behind his blue eyes. In less than a second, the ice in his gaze melted away as he relented, deciding to entertain your sentiment.

You felt his cool breath on your finger tip as he blew the lash away all the while not breaking off eye contact. And just like that, the golden glint was no more. It melted into the darkness of the room. 

“So, what did you wish for?” you inquired with more curiosity than taunt, resting your chin on his shoulder once more.

His gaze returned to mindless observation of the interior. “Not telling you,” he took a sip, adding weight to his refusal. For the briefest of moments, you saw him purse his lips, as if readjusting, before he spoke again. “Or else it wouldn’t come true.”

[daisymylove]

Right, so, I'm an acotar hater with all my heart 😍 and don't care for the other sjm books in the least.In fact, it came as no surprise at all that she's a zionist, considering that her beloved ruler not only hoards copious amounts of wealth while his people is segregated, most of them living in poverty, and the marginalized /brown folks being portrayed as inferior, backward brutes and arseholes unworthy of their precious city and time.Did I mention that over half of his people hates him? Fantastic leader 😍👏🏻☺️🥰😘

Anyway I found out recently that there's a crossover between the series, got the context about what nesta did and went to read the extra chapter online to see bat lord's hissy fit first-hand.

Bryce's mom is low key shitty btw, my own mom is far from perfect, but even if she did want to obliterate me, she would never stand by and let some random fucker say that, let alone bad mouth me to said random fucker.Its odd that she seems to stand up more for a boy that she has known for weeks and a woman she just met than her own kid, also I would file for fucking divorce on the spot if my husband had decided to be complicit on a sexist joke about me and our daughter with aforementioned fucker, but I digress

What I did like about her tho was how she handed lavender eyes' ass to him.Someone has to since apparently feyre has been lobotomized and those cult members of the ic murdered Nesta's fighting spirit

And tbh I feel so bad for her, she seems so subdued for nesta's standarts. I wanted to reach for her hand and tell her that 1 if her husband loves counterfeit Batman so much he can go gag on his cock all day, she'll find something better in no time and 2 she'll do it sooner rather than later bc her sister and her are coming with me.If feyrug wants to bring the devilspawn along its fine too

The thing is the average acotar fan is pretty much Sjms trained dog.They'll go along with everything the narrative says, no reading comprehension skills whatsoever.But apparently all characters from CC who have met Rice bowl dislike him and like Nesta, so I am now wondering if she's not planning to reveal later on that Batfae was the villain all along and completely fried Feyre's brain.Again, I don't expect much from a zionist, but its undeniable that it doesn't add up, to the point that I'm wondering if it's the sake person writing the books.I would like someone who actually read the Cc books I would rather lick a McDonald's slider than subject myself to that togive their opinions

[mimisempai]

You are enough

Summary

Aziraphale wants to surprise his lover by bringing him his daily dose of coffee at the flower shop and is surprised to find the store closed. With Muriel's help, he learns more about the scars of Crowley's past and may be able to help him heal.

Notes

Our bookseller and our florist learn to know each other a little better...

On Ao3

Rating G -  1901 words

Aziraphale put on his jacket, hung the small "Closed" sign on his door, and left the bookshop to cross the street to Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death. He had decided not to open, at least for the morning, and instead to supply a certain florist with caffeine.

With his hand on the door of the coffee shop, he stopped and noticed that the flower shop was not open. There was no stall of fresh plants and flowers, and there seemed to be no movement inside.

Instinctively, he shot a questioning look at Nina through the window, pointing to the flower shop, but Nina shook her head and shrugged.

Aziraphale walked up to the shop and saw a small sign on the door, "Closed for today."

Surprise turned to slight concern, as his lover hadn't mentioned it at all, even though they'd spent the evening together the day before. Aziraphale dared to knock lightly on the door.

"He's not in."

He looked up in the direction of the voice and saw Muriel leaning out of the window as they added, "I'll be right down."

A few seconds later, Crowley's adopted sibling had opened the door and invited the bookseller into the shop.

Aziraphale, now genuinely concerned, immediately asked, "Is he all right? Where is he?"

Muriel put a hand on his arm and said quietly, "Calm down. I'll answer your questions right away, but first I need to explain something to you."

Aziraphale nodded and Muriel continued, "I know Crowley told you about his childhood and his history. The major lasting consequence for him is not the fear of abandonment, although that is one - I speak from experience - no, the major lasting consequence for him is the feeling of inadequacy. I'm not going to go into the details of how he was abandoned, because that's his story to tell, but you should know that this is his deepest wound. And when that scar opens up, he's in what we refer to as one of his bad days. He isolates himself and usually doesn't talk to anybody. Not even me."

Aziraphale, very sad for Crowley, asked them, "And is there any way I can support him, anything I can do?"

Muriel gave him a long, silent look before replying, "Maybe it will be different with you, so I'll tell you where I think he is. For as long as I can remember, don't ask me why, that's for him to tell, Crowley has found solace in ducks."

She couldn't help smiling at the stunned look on the bookseller's face and added, "You heard me, Crowley has a passion for ducks. He's inexhaustible on the subject. But I digress. I was saying that he finds solace in them, and that's probably why he's in Saint James Park. There's a particular spot not far from the pond with a bench near the Blue Bridge, and that's usually where you'll find him."

Aziraphale nodded and said eagerly, "I'll go there."

Muriel held him back and said gently, "We haven't really had time to talk since you and Crowley... well, you know what I mean. But I wanted to tell you..."

Aziraphale interrupted, "I promise I won't hurt him."

Muriel shook their head and replied, "Oh, that? I'm sure of that, right from the start. I was going to say, don't let him push you away. Be patient."

Aziraphale nodded and said softly, "I promise," then turned to leave when they stopped him by tugging at his sleeve and the next second held him close and said in a whisper, "Thank you."

Aziraphale, unaccustomed to this kind of display of affection, patted Muriel awkwardly on the back, then Muriel stepped back and chuckled slightly before saying, "You and Crowley really are alike.

Just under half an hour later, Aziraphale arrived at Saint James Park, and thanks to Muriel's directions, it didn't take him long to find the spot in question, pleased to see that they had been right.

Crowley was indeed sitting on the bench across from the pond, and unfortunately, even from a distance, Aziraphale could see that it was indeed a bad day.

He continued on his way and sat down next to the florist without saying anything.

Crowley immediately whispered, "Aziraphale, I know it was Muriel who told you where to find me, but I'm sure they also told you that I want to be alone."

Aziraphale nodded and replied quietly, "I know they told me, but I won't say anything and I won't make a sound, so it's like you're alone."

Then he leaned back comfortably and looked straight ahead without saying anything more. 

After a few seconds of silence, Crowley huffed and muttered, "Suit yourself..."

Aziraphale watched the people pass by, saying nothing, not moving, when suddenly Crowley muttered, "Don't give them bread, you idiot. Ducks shouldn't eat bread."

Then he stood up, and Aziraphale saw him walk over to a man at the water's edge who seemed to be throwing breadcrumbs to the ducks swarming around. Amused, he watched as Crowley scolded the poor man, showing him a small bag in his hand. The other man walked away with an exasperated look under Crowley's murderous gaze. Then Aziraphale saw the florist turn toward the water, crouch down, and start throwing things at the ducks, but he couldn't tell what it was from where he sat.

After a few moments, Crowley returned and sat down on the bench again, this time a little closer to Aziraphale, who still said nothing and waited patiently.

Suddenly, he felt Crowley's hand on his, resting between them on the bench. Aziraphale still said nothing, simply returning his hand under Crowley's, whose fingers were almost desperately intertwined with his own.

"I told you I lived in an orphanage, but what I didn't tell you was how I got there. I warn you, it's worthy of Dickens." He gave a self-deprecating chuckle and continued, "I was purely and simply dumped at the gates of the orphanage on what seemed like the day I was born. With only a chain bracelet on my wrist, engraved with Anthony's name."

"Is your name Anthony?"

"Yes, but since that's the name my parents who abandoned me gave me, I don't like to wear it."

Aziraphale frowned and asked, "Then why Crowley?"

Crowley replied, "It was the name of the gardener who took me under his wing, and since he was the closest thing I had to a father, I chose that name, which in fact became my given name. Only Muriel sometimes calls me Anthony to tease me or when they're angry."

Crowley sighed and continued, "Anyway, the reason I'm here today is because sometimes I wake up in the morning and wonder why. What did I or didn't I have that made my parents decide to leave me. Why did they do that? Why did my mother decide to bring me into the world and just abandon me without giving me a chance to show her who I could be? Wasn't I enough as a baby, as a son?"

Aziraphale squeezed Crowley's hand in his, inwardly devastated for him, for his pain, and replied softly, "Of course you were. Of course you are. There was and is nothing wrong with you. Believe me, I know a thing or two about feeling inadequate when it comes to my family. Aside from my mother, the rest of my family, including my father, made it clear that I would never be enough. And then I left and realized that the problem wasn't me. I don't have to prove anything. You don't have to prove anything. I'm sure if I ask Muriel, they'll go on and on about why they love you as much as I l-"

Aziraphale paused, aware of what he had almost confessed. Not that he wasn't absolutely sure of the nature of his feelings for the florist, but now was not the time for such a confession as he was trying to comfort him.

Which didn't stop him from seeing in Crowley's eyes that the florist hadn't missed his almost slip of the tongue.

Aziraphale coughed, then continued, "I have no doubt that this wound will never go away, but when the scar opens, think of the people you have around you now who love and appreciate you for what you are, for who you are."

He squeezed Crowley's hand a little tighter in his own, giving the florist time to think about his words.

After a few minutes, Crowley nodded and turned to him, asking with a small smile on his lips, "Are you an angel?"

Aziraphale could not suppress a small laugh before replying, "I can assure you, no, I am not."

Crowley insisted, "But you work miracles, because for the first time in a long time, I don't feel like moping around all day."

Aziraphale said gently, "It's not a miracle, but I'm very happy for you. How about brunch at the Ritz to celebrate?"

"The Ritz?! Wait, don't tell me this has something to do with your... rich family?"

Aziraphale shook his head and replied in a proud little tone, "Well, no, to the boss I'm just Mr. Fell, bookseller, and incidentally he's the only person I agreed to sell two books to, so in payment, instead of the outrageous sum he offered me, I asked him for a table for life at the Ritz."

Crowley first made round eyes, then burst out laughing, much to the delight of Aziraphale, who considered it another small victory.

"Shall we go to the Ritz?"

Aziraphale replied, "Only if you're driving. I came by taxi."

Crowley stood and exclaimed, "Deal."

Still holding Aziraphale's hand, he started to move forward when Aziraphale stopped him, "Wait, I want to know something. What did you feed the ducks?"

Crowley proudly pulled the bag from his pocket and shook it in front of Aziraphale, who saw small green grains dancing inside.

"This is what you feed the ducks. Frozen peas. They love it, and it's good for them."

Aziraphale couldn't resist and, standing on tiptoe, he planted a light kiss on the lips of the florist, who, as they walked away, asked, "What was that for?"

Aziraphale casually replied, "Because you're so sweet!"

"Aziraphale!"

Only a chuckle came back to Crowley as they walked toward the Bentley.

**********

Aziraphale moaned as he closed his eyes around the last spoonful of chocolate cake before exclaiming, "Scrumptious!"

When he opened his eyes, he saw Crowley, chin resting on his hand, watching him with a small smile on his lips.

"What's the matter? Do I have something on my face?"

Crowley shook his head and, without breaking his smile, said softly, "I think I found something as comforting as feeding the ducks."

Aziraphale asked in a confused tone, "What?" 

"Watching you eat. You enjoy it so much, it's fascinating."

Aziraphale wiped his mouth, unable to hide the slight blush in his cheeks at Crowley's compliment, and the florist then took his hand, pressing a lingering kiss to the palm before saying softly, "Thank you...angel."

Blushing even more, Aziraphale replied, "You're welcome."

As they gazed at each other in silence, ducks and desserts were forgotten, and all that remained was the fragile feeling that passed between them at that moment.

It didn't have a name yet, but it was there, and that was all that mattered.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

The florist and the booksellers series : here

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

[moonshynecybin]

https://www.tumblr.com/moonshynecybin/741446960125509632 'The scans of his bones that sit in his email, twisted out of shape and healed sloppily. His relationship to Valentino, the same.'

this is embarrassing but i DID have to stare at the quote for several minutes before i figured out EYE wrote it.... this is sweet thank youuuu <3... um i also do wanna talk about that excellent post from @frogsonabike as well bc it makes me crazyyyy.... bear with me.

so yeah! marc's docuseries is one of those interesting little exercises in self-mythologizing that is well. maybe is not the most objective way to frame his sporting story but is CERTAINLY revealing concerning what matters to MARC. like he the one producing this, he's the subject of the documentary, and a big part of the structure of the show is literally marc sitting down and giving feedback about the edit straight to camera (CONTROL FREAK.) truly. there are scenes in this show of marc straight up saying hmmm i like this but i want to make sure we include x y and zeee so people can see how normal and happy i am :) because thats something normal people do. and so the whole project is very much in his hands and shaped by how he wants himself to be perceived... like the narrative arc of the whole thing is SUPPOSSED to be focused on him getting surgery and coming back from injury -- its a straightforward sports story that lets us get to know marc a little more and sets up his (hopeful) return to health/competition. a normal if somewhat micromanaged sports documentary.

BUT marc is crazy. crucially we must never forget that marc is crazy. crucially. so instead theres this HUGE diversion in the middle of our three act play just to talk about valentino for a full fucking episode. because of course there is. and marc's all like. i know we have to talk about valentino frowny face. but my man you literally do not under any circumstances have to derail your hagiographic feel-good comeback story to talk about your ex of seven years. he is retired lol. like truly i think it all ties into how traumatizing the breakup was, ESPECIALLY the way his personal narrative got kind of removed from his control during the whole deal... like forgive me if im wrong here but dani and jorge dont make any other appearances in this thing. marc had to make that call specifically for this lol. it wasnt just i GUESS i'll talk about valentino its wait a minute lemme call the other aliens they need to be here to back me up. actually dani being there is so funny but i digress. like i think marc desperately wanted to tip a lil of the balance of the scales here and saw his chance.... which is so interesting to meeee like he can say as time passes i love him less and less but it clearly still matters to him!!!!! otherwise he wouldnt have said SHIT. and then he dropped it on their birthday lol. crazy ex-girlfriend behavior.