#and oh god it was so fucking hard to read

[prosypepper]

cw: smut, screaming, unprotected p in v, toji being..himself. 18+ mdni!

toji fushiguro likes to make his girls scream.

usually it’s no trouble—he’s pretty experienced in the bedroom, obviously. he’s got a record of thirty-two seconds he set a while ago, as terrible as it sounds.

but you—his pretty new girlfriend—are giving him some trouble.

it’s been almost an hour. he’d done everything—oral, different positions, even that thing with his fingers that’s sure to make someone scream. yet you’re quiet, clinging onto his neck, only sounds falling from your lips are small gasps and itty bitty moans.

for your first time together, toji wanted to take things slow— but it’s not good enough. so, toji switches it up yet again.

he manhandles you to flip over, shoving a pillow under you—something he’d read a while ago and had yet to try out. his hands push your knees into your chest, keeping you open, before sliding his cock back in painfully slow.

you don’t complain or make any noise again, you just rest your hands on his big shoulders and hold on. then toji begins—sliding all the way out and shoving his length right back in.

that elicits the first loud moan you’d given him. if he didn’t know any better, toji would’ve thought he’d been doing a bad job this whole time.

and he thrusts again, slow, yet hard, punctuating each thrust with a sharp stop. you go quiet again, closing your eyes and focusing on the sensation of him—and he hits it.

“oh fuck.”

your voice comes out trembling, a little whiny, yet nothing close to a scream. toji picks up his pace, thrusts still calculated and mean. he hits your g-spot so accurately and aggressive, the sensation bubbling up inside you quickly.

toji sees it, heightened senses be damned, his eyes locking onto your expression. you’re biting your lip, squeezing your eyes shut, digging your nails into his shoulder. you’re like a balloon about to pop, pumped too full you can’t help what comes out of your mouth.

“fuck! fuck you!” you scream, eyes shooting open wide when toji penetrates your g-spot again, rudely.

“aw, that ain’t nice, baby,” toji coos, knowing you don’t mean any harm in your yelling.

you’re just overwhelmed by pleasure, he gets it—toji knows he’s good. he can feel your thighs trembling, your cunt spasming around him every time he hits that sacred spot so deep inside you.

“oh my god—ugh—shit!” curse after curse falls from your lips, only causing toji’s grin to get wider and wider. your moans aren’t pretty in any sense—each noise is ugly and visceral and raw.

toji is eating it up.

“let it out,” he rasps with a laugh, angling his hips to pound even harder into your tight walls.

your fist clenches together and you bang the side of it on toji’s hard bicep. he doesn’t stop, not even after all your exclamations and yelling, because he knows you don’t want him to.

toji doesn’t want to, either—he won’t be satisfied until you lose your voice.

[heartyluv]

I've finished binge reading you Caleb fics, and oh my god. My faves are definitely the camboy!caleb series, MAKES ME THINK THAT what if their next content is that his wife made him consume aphrodisiac chocolates? I'M SO SORRY IF IT IS FILTHY but yk, what if 👀

Note: Babe….you’re a genius. I’ve been thinking about how I should do this and there was only one correct answer: SUBBY CALEB!!!! I feel like I go to a different place when I write Camboy!Caleb, too LOLL And please, nothing is too filthy around here. I LOVE IT!!! I hope you enjoy, luv. 🫶🏽

Creds to @/anitalenia for the divider!!

Rating: Explicit - !!Minors DO NOT Interact!!

Word Count: 2,800

Warnings: Smut, Caleb is so needy, he unknowingly consumes the aphrodisiac (but he’s okay with it because it’s from you duhhh), you’re kinda dominating him, HE’S EATING THAT 🐱, the sex is being LIVE-STREAMED!!!

NeedyCamboy!Caleb/Reader

You sat down at your desk, getting the camera and your monitors ready to start live-streaming a game your audience has been enjoying watching you play. Even though where you and Caleb post your content is a site meant for everything related to sex, you were graced with a collective of people who loved you and your husband as people, just as much as they loved to see you two fuck.

The grin on your face was hard to contain as you clicked the bright red start button, and the number of viewers spiked rapidly. Dozens turned to hundreds and hundreds became a few thousand. The comments were flying as the people greeted you.

iluv2cum: OMG YES YOU’RE PLAYING TODAY

deepspacegirlie4Life: where’s caleb??

ima$lutandi0wnit: you look so gooddd

“Hey, guys,” you waved before adjusting your headphones. You bit your bottom lip, seeing the number of questions increase as everyone became curious about what has you smiling so hard.

“So, I did a little something…” The chat raved with anticipation. You leaned in to whisper, your mouth close to the microphone. “I gave Caleb an aphrodisiac.”

Covering your mouth with your hands, the giddiness that coursed through you was so hard to contain. They demanded the story and it was only because he was in the shower that you could deliver.

“He came home from the gym—Caleb loves chocolate, by the way. But, he came home, and I showed him the box of cute little chocolates. Immediately, he popped one in his mouth.” You threw your hands up in the air dramatically, making yourself laugh as you thought about how you were mid explanation and he plucked one in between in his lips. “I didn’t even have the chance to tell him anything about it. Most I got to say was a lie and that was that it’s supposed to help him focus. His ass is greedy.”

You let them know that you warned him to only have the one for reasons so stupid you couldn’t say without laughing at yourself. Then, you took the time to see what people were saying. Many were asking if it worked or if you two planned on recording a video for it.

“I’m not sure, honestly,” you shrug. “He ate it, went to get cleaned up, and has been in the bathroom for like twenty minutes now. It takes thirty for it to kick in, I think. As for a video, I didn’t even think about it. But it’s a whole box, so maybe we can use it in the future,” you wiggle your eyebrows mischievously.

“But enough chit-chat. Let’s get into it!”

While you were interacting with fans and enjoying yourself, Caleb was having an experience that for him, has come out of absolutely nowhere. Now, he’s used to being horny and desperate. Because of the job he does and the person he gets to do it with, those feelings weren’t foreign. Honestly, they didn’t even need to be provoked. If he thought about or is around you, his cock is just as ready as he is.

But that’s the thing. He wasn’t around you and he wasn’t thinking about you in this moment. What he was thinking as he dried himself off and got dressed, was the new aircraft he was going to put together once he finished. He couldn’t understand why his cock was hard and aching, but it wasn’t like it threw him off or anything. As a man, there were times where his dick had a mind of its own, so he figured this was one of those instances.

Caleb tried to shake it off, not wanting to interrupt your streaming because he knew how important your game was to you and felt that he could wait until you finished if the urge to come was still there.

She said those chocolates help with focusing. Maybe I could eat another one, he thought to himself as he opened the box once he walked into the kitchen. What was supposed to be one became two and two became three. Your poor husband didn’t know it yet, but he was fucked.

The throbbing in his dick only grew when he sat at the dining table. He couldn’t focus. It was impossible to when all he craved was to fuck your brains out. He’s been there for almost forty minutes, yet he’s barely touched the small blocks that were scattered across the wooden surface.

“I can’t fucking do this,” he grumbled to himself, a soft groan falling past his lips when he palmed his cock through his sweats. His sensitivity had even increased. He didn’t know what the fuck was causing this, but he couldn’t wait anymore.

He walked to your shared bedroom where your setup was, opening the door to see your pretty face laughing with everyone. You must be taking a break since the game is minimized and the only thing on the screen is you.

“Oh, hey babe,” you beamed. “Come, come, they wanna see you.” You gestured for him to get closer. One thing about your man—he doesn’t beat around the bush and he wasn’t about to do it now. While he didn’t want to pull you away from what you were doing, he needed something—anything.

Caleb walked toward you and the bulge in his pants was something impossible to miss. You pressed your lips together to suppress your amusement, but it was swiped off immediately because your husband spun your chair to face him, sunk to his knees before you, and threw your legs over his shoulders. You yelped, eyes wide as you looked between him and your screen to your left.

“Caleb!” you giggle in surprise. “Wait! I’m live—oh, fuck..” His pressed a kiss onto your panty clad pussy, pressing his nose deep between your lips and inhaling your scent like it would calm the raging desire in his chest. It only fueled it.

He was so hard that it was hurting and the fact that he instinctively knew he could get off if he ate you out, was blowing his mind. His tongue licked a long stripe up your clothed slit, using your whimpers as his indicator that you wanted more. All that teasing shit was off the table for him. He needed to come and only you were able to help him do that.

You being live only became his driving force.

The camera captured how your chest rose and fell with bated breath while your hand nestled itself into Caleb’s hair as his mouth made itself at home between your thighs. Your large diamond ring shined in the frame, showing everyone who you belong to. Impatiently, he pulled back just enough to slide the thin material down your legs, throwing them to land somewhere unimportant while he indulged himself in his saving grace.

All while he feasted on you for thousands to see, he felt how his leaking cock was only dirtying his once fresh clothes. He uttered not one word as he took your clit into his mouth, as he stuck his tongue inside your tight hole—not even when he spit on your pussy and smeared it across his canvas as he painted the perfect picture.

You moaned prettily for him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as the wet sounds of your slick and his saliva came together to curate something so beautifully erotic.

“Baby,” you whined, bucking your hips. “I’m gonna come…Hold on—”

He wasn’t waiting. Not only because he needed you to come but by some miracle, he was close himself. Caleb was a man who needed stimulation in order to finish, but he was so close as all he did was cater to your wet cunt. Whatever was going on with him, eating you out was what was about to make him come in his pants.

The chat was flying. But you nor him knew that because you were so focused on each other. You hadn’t even noticed that the 3,000 views you had jumped to almost 10,000. What made it even more crazy? People had to pay to be able to view anything on your page and being able to participate in livestreams was an extra fee. What was happening was being shared and people were so eager to see that they were paying you two for it.

At the same time that you tensed, your orgasm crashing into you and making your grip tighten in his fluffy locks, his hips stuttered as they humped against nothing but the material of his underwear for friction. You cried out, chanting his name over and over as he hummed into your sensitive flesh from contentment after having some kind of relief. Cum now made his cock sticky and yours made his face wet.

But he was still hard.

When he looked up at you, his face was soaked and lips were flushed. You smiled lazily at him as he stood, your core clenching when you saw the wet spot that formed at the front of his pants.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he panted, pulling his shirt off and tugging his pants down next. He made you stand, pulling your shirt off and got you both naked to all the people watching. “But I need you to fuck me, baby.”

It’s a different type of buzz for him to ask you to be the one to fuck him. Of course you’ll do it. But, you’re shocked that one piece of chocolate did this to him.

“It was the chocolate,” you grinned as he kissed you neck. He froze.

“The chocolate?” he questioned again and you nodded. “I ate like three more!”

“What! Why?!” you exclaimed in laughter, but his hard dick that was still needing some help, found this everything but funny. It was angry and only your sweet pussy could calm it.

“I can’t even talk,” he shook his head, curious about what was in that small treat but not enough to wait any longer. “If I don’t fuck you in the next few seconds, my dick is gonna fall off.”

You huff out a laugh. “Get on the bed,” you cooed, kissing his hard chest.

“I guess you guys are getting your video,” you teased, turning to grab your small camcorder off its holder. “I’m not posting it either, so I hope you’re recording it, you freaks.”

You tsked as you approached him and climbed into the bed to get on top of your husband. The camera catches his tall and hard body splayed out so perfectly in the bed, making you feel nothing but lust and pride that all of this was yours. Your thighs rest on either side of his hips as his cockhead brushed against your slit, making your body titter with delight.

“My naughty husband ate more than he was supposed to,” you mockingly frowned. “Now he needs me to make it all better, doesn’t he?”

He nodded, gripping your hips tightly as if you ground him—and you do. His hips jerks with the desire to be inside you already.

“Please…I wanna come, I need to..” he begs. You hold the camera in one hand, using your other to swipe a thumb across his wet lip. Slowly, you slide it inside his mouth and your pussy squeezes around nothing when he gently sucks on the digit.

“You’re so good,” you praise, your voice low and raspy. “Pretty boy…” He looks up at you with so much love, appreciation, and need.

You gently rock your hips, sliding your puffy lips back and forth around his length. “Put your dick inside me, Caleb,” you demand breathlessly, your body overwhelmed with need. While you haven’t eaten the chocolate, with the way you’re feeling, you wouldn’t be surprised if this is exactly what he’s experiencing.

You raise yourself to help him and angle the camera so that it captures the view and the sound of how he slides inside your walls like a hot knife going through butter—With ease. Already familiar with the territory, you don’t need to take a minute to become familiarized when his thick cock takes up all the space inside your velvet walls

“That’s it…” he breathes, his hand snaking up your body to grab your tits. “You’re so fucking tight…I need you to move…” he pleads.

“Yeah?” you taunt, unable to mask your own bliss despite how much you’re poking fun at him. “I can feel you twitching, baby. Let me feel how desperate you are, hm?”

Your hips rise and fall just enough, and you grind your hips to give your clit the attention she craves. Behind you on the computer, your views have doubled and the amount of love, adoration, and money you’re getting is something that could be put in a fucking history book.

“Use me,” you pant, unable to hold the camera anymore. You haphazardly position it on a nearby pillow, and you don’t even care if it’s perfect. All it needs to do is let everyone see how good you make each other feel.

Caleb doesn’t need to be told twice. He holds you in his hands as he slams into you from below, your nipples grazing against his firm chest as you take his cock with the intensity he’s delivering. As your gummy walls suffocate his dick, all that matters in this moment is the needy man beneath you.

His face shows nothing but undeniable satisfaction—All the way from his hooded gaze as he watches his cock be lathered in your juices, to his lips that he can’t stop licking and gnawing on, and the glorious sounds that he makes.

Tears prickle in your husband’s eyes from how intoxicating everything feels and you lean down to kiss them away before they can fall. You don’t care for chocolate much, but on his lips, it becomes a delicacy. He accepts the kiss like it’s his lifeline, eager to feel your soft lips move with his.

“You feel so good,” he whimpers against your mouth, his cheeks burning with love and bliss. Your walls suck him in, holding him so snuggly like you were made to keep him safe. “Just a little more, baby.. Please don’t stop…”

Your back arches when he holds you close, his strong hand pressing your head down and close to him as your foreheads press together. Yours and his breath push and pull as he ruts into you, the intimacy so mind-numbing.

Neither of you can alert the other when both of you come so hard that it makes you cry out each other’s name. Your pussy wraps around him like it never wants to let go, squeezing him with everything you have as his thick ropes of sticky cum paint your insides.

He groans deliciously, putting so much pressure on your hips to keep you close that you know it’ll bruise. Yours thighs twitch as he stays seated inside you.

You keep grinding to ride out the high, only adding to the overstimulation. Once you can’t take it anymore, you stop your movements entirely.

“You okay?” you ask him breathlessly, swiping his damp hair away from his forehead.

He nods. “Thanks to you.” He takes a moment. “Or maybe not. You gave me an aphrodisiac?”

You smile, resting yourself on top of him as he wraps his arms around you. It brings you peace as you hear his heartbeat with your ear to his chest. “You were only supposed to take one, in my defense.”

“You said they helped you focus!” he chuckled.

“I didn’t want to give it away!”

A brief moment passes before you announce the camera. “You know we’re still on live, right?”

“I do.”

“You gonna turn it off?”

“We should.”

Silence.

“But you might want to go again.”

“But I might want to go again,” you say your sentences at the same time.

“You’re doing the work this time.” You turn your head to look into his eyes, love glistening in your irises.

“Not so commanding now, huh?” he raises an eyebrow in challenge.

“Not at all. Your horny ass wore me out.”

You feel him stir to life again inside of you, making you turn to the camera. “I might just end it. You guys shouldn’t get all the good stuff.”

You can’t read the chat, but they’re begging you to keep it on.

bang4bang: PLEASE DON’T END IT

cumminroundthemountain: did anyone else just have the most intense orgasm of their life..?

itsfreaknation: i’ll literally pay double. triple.

polywoly: is your wife looking for a relationship?

c0ckluva: i volunteer to join next time..

No matter what’s being said, none of it is important when Caleb flips you like you’re as light as a feather, his cock still nestled in your cunt when he puts you on your back.

All you know is that the chocolate has now become your partner-in-crime and your worst enemy, but you couldn’t be more excited.

Tags 🏷️: @honeymoonfleur @obeythebutler

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Tengen Uzui + Wives NSFW Profile

Yandere! Tengen Uzui x fem! reader, ft. all three wives

Tw: mentions of non-con, kidnapping, honestly this whole thing reads like one giant weird orgy, voyeurism, forced voyeurism, public sex, I don’t feel like I really captured his character but oh well, mentions of anal (f recieving), toys, all four of them are yandere bc I don't believe in splitting them up, sex dolls, mentions of cum eating, don't use lotion gifted to you by the Uzuis, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 14K

HABITS: 

Uzui’s sex life is extremely active, even before you step into his heart. Having three wives, he’s no stranger to the sweaty, writhing mess of sex, finding himself tangled with all three women on a nearly nightly basis. He’s just a passionate man, and finds that sex is a good medium to express his desire and love for his wives. And even on the nights when he’s too exhausted to join in on the fun, he’s more than happy to watch Suma, Hinatsuru, and Makio go at it in front of him, palming at his cock over his pants and watching like a hawk as they kiss and touch one another, moans ringing through the air and the musky scent of sex filling the room.

And once you walk into his life, this trait not only stays but grows stronger. He becomes so consumed by the thought of having you naked and moaning in his arms that it gets him salivating, gulping and feeling his knees go weak like some pathetic little schoolboy.

He’s constantly plagued by thoughts involving you, and a good portion of them involve you in rather lewd, provocative positions – he’ll be imagining what your tits look like as he idly gropes at Makio’s, biting his lip as he thinks of what color your nipples must be, how small or large, what shape your breasts are, how they fall or sit against your sternum, how sensitive they are and whether a few sucks and pinches is enough to get you bucking your hips and moaning.

(And all the while, Makio’s imagining the same thing – she’s picturing kissing you, pressing her naked chest against yours, hard nipples brushing against yours and making her whine, her hands coming down to force Tengen to squeeze harder, more insistently, more like how she fantasizes you would.)

He’ll be chatting with you, his stare much too intense and standing too close to your body, all the while daydreaming about how your voice changes when you’re in the throes of pleasure – does it get higher? Whinier, gaspier, every thrust of his hips drawing out a new moan that he wants to be loud enough to be heard by absolutely everyone in the near vicinity? Or perhaps you get lower, sounds starting deep in your chest and sounding serene as they fall from you, sounds that make him only tongue at you deeper, snap his hips against you faster, just trying even harder.

It’s not long before he begins craving you sexually, and so it’s also not long before he begins acting on those urges, humoring his rather explicit and depraved fantasies of you.

And so, when Tengen feels that same familiar, impossible-to-ignore aching when he sees you, his pants growing tight and his face feeling hot because fuck you’re so damn sexy it’s almost infuriating, he knows exactly what to do to quell it.

That is, fucking you is what his body is really craving, but his three lovely wives are more than capable of satisfying him, more than willing to indulge in the fantasy and let hands wander their skin all the with the idea of you in mind. And more often than not they’re suffering the same sort of sexual frustration, fingers twitching and biting lips because god, they want you so badly it’s almost painful.

And so, one of two things will happen.

The first – and more common – option is to simply fuck each other. All four are peeling off clothing, hands eagerly squeezing and fondling, mouths insistent and leaving each inch of skin wet with spit. It’s messy and loud and so very hot – sweat’s dripping from foreheads and gathering at temples, tongues eagerly lapping it up and moans filling the air. It’s truly carnal – a writhing mass of bodies, cum, and slick.

And while they’re touching each other, more often than not each is fantasizing about you – imagining the pretty pair of tits they’re sucking at and squeezing are yours. Imagining it’s your lips they’re kissing, your tongue they’re sucking on, your teeth they’re running their tongue against. Imagining it’s your ass they’re grinding against, your cheeks they’re groping, your asshole they’re thumbing at and cheekily kissing. They’re imagining it’s your pussy they’re spitting onto, your pretty folds they’re rubbing against your own, your hole that’s stretching so wonderfully to take a finger, two, four, a cock, anything and everything they give it.

You’re at the forefront of their fantasies, and they’re moaning your name allowed, each deeply engrossed in their own fantasy world of how you’re touching them, how they’re touching you, and how they’re making you absolutely dumb with pleasure.

That’s the more common option, yes, but it’s rather limiting – it feels best when all four are present, emotions feeling more intense because here they are fantasizing about you, their missing fifth person, and it feels wrong enough with one person not there. And so, when Tengen’s away on a mission or a wife or two is away in town or visiting friends, the others must compensate, their arousal insistent and needy and frantic to hump at something in replacement for you.

And so, the second common way for them to deal with their horniness before stealing you away is to take a turn with the rather pathetic stand-in they use for you. Tengen’s income is ample enough to finance the most recent development in large-scale sex toys – that is, the rather morbid life-sized doll they’d purchased surely isn’t an exact replica of you, but it gets the job done.

It’s a soft coating with padding inside that makes the doll decently malleable, not soft and squishy as they’re sure you are, but enough to have a decent amount of give when the fake tits are squeezed or the ass is slapped. It’s not complete – just a torso and a faceless head, with holes on the mouth and between the legs. It’s crude, vulgar, even, but on nights when they want a little individual, private fantasy session, it’s a better alternative. The doll sits in a particular closet, and is available on a first-come, first-serve basis.

And so, when Tengen arrives home one night after a particularly tiring mission, he’s quick to survey the Estate’s occupants. Hinatsuru had sent him a letter earlier in the day explaining that the three of them were taking a small journey to a neighboring village to gather some new herbs and supplies, and that they’d likely need to spend the night and return in the morning.

Tengen had of course been dismayed, but he’d stopped by your apartment on the return home and had caught a glimpse of you exiting your steaming bathtub perched outside your window, and had been absolutely insatiable since. The mental imagery of water droplets sliding down the curves of your figure had made him lick his lips so many times they were beginning to feel cracked, his uniform pants so tight that he audibly sighed in relief once he stepped out of them.

With no one else in the house, he’d briefly washed up, the cold water against his face waking him up, then wandered to the small, nondescript closet in the center of the Estate. Carrying the doll back to the large bathroom, Tengen shivers in anticipation. The metal image of you naked and wet is too much to forget, and so as he turns on the steaming water and let the bathtub fill, he slipped off the rest of his uniform.

Running a hand through his now tousled hair, Tengen grins, a thumb reaching out to cup at the doll’s – your – chin. My pretty girl, he coos, leaning in to press a kiss against the open lips, tongue coming out to lick and toy with the interior of the mouth hole, his eyes squeezing closed as he kisses harder, deeper, more fervently. He’s groaning all the while, a hand coming to lay at the doll’s waist, fingers pressing harshly against the material and feeling the way it divots under him, mind racing at how soft and squishy you’d be – surely much more than this stupid doll.

It’s not long before the tub is adequately full, and he stops the water flow. Settling into the warm water, he’s quick to grab the doll, laying it so that the back is pressed against his bare chest. He spends a long while simply talking to it – calling it your name, pressing wet, hot kisses against the neck, letting his hands come up to splay against the stomach, then creep a little higher to cup at the breasts. They’re not like yours – not the correct size or shape, but it’s a close enough substitute. And as his cock presses harder and harder against the doll’s ass, Tengen can no longer ignore the insistent throbbing.

He’ll chuckle against the neck, pressing one last hot kiss against the area and moving to take the ear between his teeth.

Bend over for me, he’ll groan, suddenly moving the doll so that its front is pressed against the lip of the tub, ass sticking out and the hole between its legs accessible. Tengen licks his lips, settled on his knees so that his groin perfectly aligns with the doll’s rear.

So pretty, he’ll murmur, running a thumb down the doll’s spine, imagining the way you’d get shy and bashful and tell him to not say such embarrassing things! He’s quick to lean over the doll, close enough to feel the ass flush with his cock, his nipples brushing against the doll’s arched back.

Tell me you want me. One hand comes down to knead and grope at the doll’s ass cheek, grabbing as much of the material as he can, closing his eyes and once again imagining how you’d be so much better. He imagines the way you’d respond, how you’d breath out his name, telling him that you need him, and that’s enough to send his hand to grab at his base, smacking himself lightly against the doll, smirking against the material as he imagines the way you’d squirm at his teasing.

Take it, baby, take me. And with that he’s pushing inside, hissing slightly at the squeeze, bicep flexing as he holds himself steady against the rim of the tub. The doll feels nice, but he’s sure you’d be much tighter, much wetter, sucking him in and offering so much resistance each and every time he pulls back. With a low groan and brings his hips back, precum smearing along the insides of the hole, but Tengen can only shakily sigh.

He starts a moderate pace, his thrusts as deep as he can make them, hips rolling and subconsciously aiming to the spot he knows you’d like. He’s talking constantly – praising the you of his fantasies, groaning out your name, breathily muttering small yes’s under his breath. The sloshing sound of the cooling tub water is background to the way his breathing gets slightly heavier, his cheeks getting more flushed, his muscles visibly flexing and tensing as his thrusts slowly get more instant, his hips picking up the pace.

Fuck, so good he’s groaning, a free hand coming down to smack at the ass of the doll, hand lingering to once again grope. His eyes are still tightly closed, trying to immerse himself in the fantasy of you – imagining your sounds as he fucks you dumb, the visual of your back arched before him, the sight of your ass bouncing and jiggling with the force of his hips. You’re just too damn sexy – his orgasm’s approaching much too fast, balls sporadically clenching and tightening, his breathing starting to get unsteady as the pleasure begins to mount.

A hand comes down to vigorously rub at where the doll’s clit would be, tight, fast circles pressed against he material as he buries his face against the doll’s shoulder, his voice tight as he groans out come f’me please god – I’m coming, ngh take it take it take it –

He lets out a low, deep groan as ropes of cum spurt from his tip, filling the doll, his shallow thrusts making a lewd, wet squelching noise. He’s still breathing heavily as he rides out the last bits of his high, sweat dripping from his brow and now cold water lapping at his thighs. He leans back, thumbs pressing against the doll’s back, eyes fixated on the sight of his cock buried inside of it, bits of cum having leaked out and leaving a white ring against the base of his cock.

He smiles, licking his lips, and reaches down to give his balls a good, gentle squeeze, hissing and curling his toes but determined to give this doll every last drop – after all, if it’s supposed to be you, he wants it to be as realistic as possible, to give you everything he has to offer. He’ll stay like that for a while, simply catching his breath and letting himself daydream about the aftercare with you; having you wrapped in his arms, the rest of his wives piled into the large bed with you, all tangled together and sleeping soundly, nude bodies pressed up against one another. The thought brings a smile to his face, and as he slowly pulls out, globs of cum dripping into the water below, he can only sigh.

It’s a quick job to clean up, washing out the interior of the doll and his own body, every trace of blood, sweat, and dirt from his mission going down the drain. The doll gets put back into the closet and he retreats to his bed, situating one of his wives’ pillows as a stand-in for your body, clutching it tightly against his chest and allowing himself to drift off into sleep.

And, when Suma returns the next day and finds herself feeling a bit antsy after having passed an intimates shop on the journey home, she’s quick to snag the doll, retreating to a private room to strip and perch herself on the doll’s face.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

 Your ass

Tengen finds every part of your body absolutely enticing. He finds you to be physical perfection, loving your every curve, blemish, roll, anything and everything in between. He likes all of you, but he has a soft spot for your ass.

There’s just something about it that drives him absolutely wild. He’s not picky about the way it looks, either – curvy, flat, squishy, firm, it doesn’t matter. His hands naturally gravitate towards it, absent-mindedly reaching down and simply settling there, letting his fingers idly press against the doughy fat and listen to the way you gasp. And frankly, it’s not even purposeful most of the time – it’s completely a habit, something he does without even thinking, something that his body truly just wants to do.

When he’s got you splayed over him, he’ll position you so that you’re laying on his chest, one leg propped up and over his, a hand securely sitting on the curve of your ass, absent-mindedly rubbing circles with his thumb.

And during sex it’s certainly no different – he’s a big fan of perching you over his face while you suck and lick at his cock, each of his hands finding home on your ass cheeks, kneading the fat and spreading them apart to allow him better access. He likes positions where your ass is visible and within touching distance, finding that he especially loves doggy and sitting you on his lap. He loves to watch the way the fat jiggles and ricochets as he fucks you, his thrusts getting faster and getting encouraged by the sight, loving the way the fat ripples and shakes, his mouth literally watering at the sight.

He’s truly fascinated by your ass, as well – it’s often that he’ll grab a fistful of cheek in each hand and pull them apart, getting a prime view of the pert, tight little hole that you always shy away from, the sight enough to leave him grinning, a thumb immediately coming up to lightly press and feel the way your body jerks slightly. He’s careful every time he plays with your asshole, though – always making sure to only very slowly work his finger inside and with ample lube, keeping his thumb shallow and slowly thrusting in and out. He likes the taboo of it, and while he won’t force you, he does harbor the fantasy of one day fucking you in the ass – if only to claim a hole of yours as his own, confident that even if you’ve laid with another man, it’s unlikely that you’ve ever done that.

(The thought of another man fucking you does, however, make him bristle with jealousy and anger. He doesn’t see you as some sort of pure, untouched angel, but he’s decidedly displeased by the notion that another man has touched you, has fucked you, has filled up your precious womb with their filthy, disgusting cum.)

He’s just truly a fan, finding that the area is simultaneously both sexy and endearing, and he’ll often reach out and land a firm smack against your ass as you pass by him in the Estate, his laugh ringing in your ears as he grins, pulling you in for a much too deep kiss and inhaling deeply by your ear. You’re just so damn pretty, after all.

Hinatsuru’s favorite part of you is your lips. There’s something about the shape of them that she absolutely adores – she similarly doesn’t care too much about the shape or thickness, finding that the softness and the fact that they’re yours are more than enough to make her happy. She’s always staring at them, fingers absent-mindedly tracing the shape against her thigh, closing her eyes and seeing them behind her eyelids. And you can feel that reverence when she kisses you – she’s gentle, even if the duration of the kiss and her wandering hands lead to you realize just how truly eager she is when she has you nude in front of her. She’ll slip a finger past them occasionally, sucking in a sharp breath at the way you suck and lick at them, your lips puckered and oh so pretty, her movements rushed as she suddenly grasps the back of your head, spreading her legs and pulling you closer to her cunt, frantic to feel those lips against her.

Makio’s favorite part of you is your thighs. She’s not exaggerating when she’d say that she’d die happy between them – they’re simply so soft and warm and squishy, the absolute perfect place to rest her head. When she’s cuddling you, she’ll maneuver you so that your legs are caging in her head, the plush surrounding her and simultaneously making her drowsy and aroused. She’s always pressing trails of kisses against the area, leaving soft little bites against the pillowy skin, groaning and muttering praises in a voice so low that the vibrations make you shiver. She’s grabbing fistfuls and kneading the skin, her hand sitting idly there both during the daytime and when she’s got you naked and moaning below her. She’ll perch herself on your thigh, dragging and grinding her cunt against the expanse of skin, grasping onto you so hard it’s nearly bruising as she chases her orgasm against your skin, her expressions and the noises she’s making almost too intimate, something about the sight feeling too personal for you to be viewing.

Suma’s favorite part of you is your voice. In bed, she’s very responsive to praise. She loves to be told what she’s doing well, how good she feels, all sorts of things that highlight how good she’s doing, how much you love her, how much you’re enjoying her touch. And so, Suma grows an absolute adoration and borderline kink for your voice. She loves the way you speak – the timber and tone, the way the letters roll off your tongue and how pleasing the sound is to her ears. And of course, when you say her name it only serves to make her shiver, goosebumps erupting across her whole body because oh, say it again, oh god please say it again she needs it… She loves to hear you moan and cry out in bed, too, finding that each and every sound you make it worthy of savoring, slick gushing from her with each whine and moan because don’t you just sound absolutely heavenly moaning and clenching around her fingers?

His mouth

In general, Tengen is a giver. He’s a firm believer in reciprocation in the bedroom, and one of his absolute favorite things to do between the sheets is to eat both you and his wives out. There’s something so naughty and lovely about it – the level of trust and intimacy is unmatched, and once your sexual relationship with the Uzuis officially begins, he will absolutely be using his mouth on you.

And he’s talented, too – he has incredible stamina, and would gladly spend hours between your legs if you’d let him. He’s able to angle his tongue just so, getting the correct pacing and movements to leave your toes curling and your hair tangling through his silver locks. He’s diligent, too – he’ll learn your body quickly, needing only a single time to find exactly what you like, and he’s always always looking at you, too. The eye contact is never broken, always watching to see how you’re responding to certain movements and techniques, adjusting to get you to make that face he loves.

(The one where your mouth is open into a little ‘o’ shape, eyebrows pinched in, eyes squeezed shut – the one that makes his cock absolutely throb, desperation tainting his movements because he will make you come, dammit.)

He loves the way you respond to his mouth; how you get so shy and nervous when he forces you to sit on his face, how you get so bashful when he tells you to spread your legs. And really, that’s where a lot of his love for eating you out comes from – you’re easy to tease, and the way you react to his words and actions leave him feeling giddy, your attention and acknowledgement of him making his chest puff out in pride because oh, this feels good.

So expect lots and lots and lots of teasing from him – biting playfully at the inside of your thighs, pressing feather light kisses against your skin, breathing over your clit and pressing his tongue against everything except where you need it.

He’ll push a finger against your entrance, pressing just enough to let the pad of his finger slip inside but not enough to give you any sort of real pleasure. Just enough to get you moaning and writhing, enough to get you begging for him in that sultry voice with that look that makes him throw all caution to the wind and absolutely destroy you.

He’ll edge you, bringing you so close to your high that you can almost taste it, your breathing getting ragged and your hips starting to shake, only to pull back and press kisses against the juncture of your leg and pelvis, chuckling when you whine, loving the way your body calls out to him and only him.

And even after he’s given in and let you come, he’s not stopping – oh no, not when you’re all sensitive and gasping him name, his tongue only picking up the pace as you writhe and whine, the oversensitivity starting to drive you mad.

And he loves the way you taste, too – the tangy, earthy taste, the way you taste so natural and raw and feminine. It’s to the point where he’ll tell you to go full days without bathing, only to pounce on you at night, pinning you down and rubbing his nose against the thin cloth of your panties, groaning and grinning at you, making some terribly embarrassing comment about how good you smell and how you taste even better.

So while he settles between your legs and brings you to orgasm after orgasm for your enjoyment and pleasure, a lot of it is self-serving. He wants you to feel good of course, but he wants you to know that he can make you feel good. He wants you to associate him with pleasure, to see him lick his lips and start shifting in your seat, to think of him as entirely capable at providing you pleasure and satisfaction. He doesn’t doubt his sexual prowess, but there’s something inexplicably satisfying about watching you fall apart all because of him and the way his tongue can work you.

The wives have different opinions, of course: Hinatsuru loves her hair. The way you pull and tug at it when she’s got her fingers curling and thrusting inside of you drives her mad, the twinge of pain mixing with pleasure clouding her mind and pushing her to go faster, to press even harder against the spot that makes your toes curl. You’re just so pretty and fuck the way you pull her hair has her near moaning, her own panties growing wetter with each tug.

Makio’s a big fan of own pussy, loving the way it feels to have you touching and pleasuring her. Of course, she enjoys touching you, but if she’s being entirely truthful, nothing beats the way you mouth at her, how you kiss and lick and suck at her, the feeling of you against her cunt leaving her breathless and desperate for more. She loves to sit on your face and grind against you, using your face as a sort of toy for her pleasure, the physical action feeling so dirty and possessive, as if she’s claiming you as her own. It’s the stuff of wet dreams – something that happens to her very often, courtesy of her fantasies surrounding you.

And finally, Suma’s favorite part of her body are her own breasts. She’s naturally very sensitive, her nipples easily hardening up and staying a bright, rosy pink color, and any time she’s got you naked in front of her, she’s always grabbing your hands and guiding them towards her chest, sighing and keening your name as you grope and knead at her. Roll her nipples between your forefinger and thumb, fit as much as you can in palm and squeeze, even slip her nipple against your tongue. She wants you to suckle, really, to lick and suck and tug for as long as you’re willing, her thighs rubbing together and little whines slipping from her because oh, if you keep this up she might just come from that alone.

DRIVE:

Between the constant flow of missions and having three sets of loving, eager arms to return home to, Tengen frankly doesn’t have time nor reason to feel sexually frustrated. His libido is naturally quite high, finding that sex is the perfect space to blow off some steam and also enjoy himself. He loves his wives dearly, and their sex lives are very active – which is why once their feelings for you form, they only fall into their beds more, hands wandering with new fervor, moans and fantasies increasing because oh, isn’t five the perfect number?

As a collective, all four of their libidos increase drastically once you step into their lives, and they’re not afraid to show this to one another. It’s extremely common for one of them to bring up a particular fantasy they’d been pondering on or harboring, the admission sometimes casual and nonchalant, other times stuttered out with red cheeks and twiddling thumbs. It’s become common place, really, for all four to share particular fantasies with one another, and often at inopportune times – not even necessarily in bed together.

Tengen will be off on a mission as the three wives sit down to lunch, making small talk and shoveling rice into their mouths, only for Makio to clear her throat and set down her bowl. The other two cock a brow but her their full attention, Hinatsuru even putting her own bowl down as well.

I’ve been thinking, Makio starts, fingers clutching at the material of her kimono, that perhaps she would enjoy a bit of spanking. It’s said as a statement, but she’ll look around the table, almost nervous at the reception of her thought – one that’d been plaguing her for nights, now, after having seen the way you yelped and stared at the ground when Tengen playfully smacked Suma’s ass earlier in the week. You’d been visibly uncomfortable, clearly unsure of what to say or do as Tengen teased Suma and the other two laughed along, but Makio is sure she’d seen some signs that deep under the façade of discomfort you’d perhaps been amused yourself, perhaps even a hair jealous…

After explaining that to the two raptly awaiting faces at the table, it’s Hinatsuru who first speaks up. She’ll softly smile, fingers tapping against the wooden table’s surface.

You may be right, she starts, and Suma audibly squeals at the idea. But of course, the only way to find out is to try it, and I don’t know that I advise Lord Tengen to be the first attempt.

Makio shakes her head rapidly, and Suma barks out no! It should be me! I’m much gentler, and she’d like it best from me and –

Makio cuts her off, snapping out where’d you get that from? Obviously it should be someone weaker than Lord Tengen but it was my idea so I should be the first one! Besides, you know I’ve been talking about how soft and pretty her ass must be for the last few weeks –

She’s also quickly cut off by Hinatsuru, who claps her hands together and laughs lightly. We must all try.

Suma and Makio grumble, the latter crossing her arms. Hinatsuru’s eye twinkles as she continues, but really, have you considered the other way around? That maybe she would like to spank us?

Chaos erupts at the table as Suma squeals once more, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands grabbing at the front of her kimono, fantasies of you bending her over and smacking at her while cooing her name running rampant through her mind. Makio’s cheeks turn an even brighter shade of red at the idea, shifting in her seat and clearing her throat, the mental imagery of her perched atop your face, grinding and swaying her hips as you grope and smack at her ass making her feel a bit hot under the collar. Hinatsuru, too, isn’t unfazed – she’s licking her lips, already thinking of how you’d be so gentle and nervous at first, a hesitant little smack against her that would only serve to make her moan lightly, her own hand coming and clutching at yours to guide you through it again, to help you hit it just right…

Tengen returns that night and is immediately bombarded with the idea, all three wives gushing at just how erotic and naughty the proposition is, and he can only boom with laughter, a hand already tugging at the front of his uniform trousers as he grins and tells them well, we should start practicing now – wouldn’t want to disappoint her, now would we?

And this behavior certainly doesn’t go away once they’ve permanently relocated you to the Sound Estate – no, if anything it increases. Because now that you’re with them constantly, their fantasies and libidos only increase. You’re just too damn pretty – they’re constantly staring at you, leaning in and inhaling your scent, fingers idly playing with your hands and hair and clothing, their attention always on you you you.

That said, you’re unlikely to be forced into anything directly sexual with them – certainly not with Tengen, who respects your clear discomfort when he lets his hands wander, instead choosing to only pull you into a rather intimate, wet kiss and whispering against your lips that you could be much happier if you’d let us pleasure you, you know.

Hinatsuru, too, is unlikely to force you into any sexual contact – instead she’ll just stare, constantly, her breathing getting slightly heavier and biting her lip but not making any motion to touch you or force you to touch her.

Makio, too, sees semblances of boundaries there, and will only force you to touch her in ways that aren’t explicitly sexual, but still feel strangely erotic. (She’ll make you brush her hair, massage her shoulders, help her to shave her legs, and absolutely insist that she returns the favor. Everything is long, drawn-out, and she’s always looking at you with baited breath, as if she thinks she can goad you into wanting something more, as if she thinks she can seduce you into wanting her.)

The only one who really toes the line, however, is Suma. It’s not out of some desire to make you suffer or to make you uncomfortable, but rather that her impatience and lust for you is simply so strong that she full-heartedly believes that you want her, too. She loves Tengen, Hinatsuru, and Makio, and she’s sure that if you just gave them all a chance you’d enjoy sex with them, too. She’s always detailing to you about the latest things they’ve done and tried, grabbing your hand and placing it on her breast as she describes a new technique Tengen has been using, something about flicking his tongue in particular ways against her nipples that she absolutely swears is amazing. It’s uncomfortable and it’ll leave you shying away and grimacing, but it’s only at the command of one of the others that she’ll stop, whining and pouting because she was so close to getting her to join us!

So while you’ll never be forced into actual sex, the four do have a rather nasty habit of getting you involved in their sex life – that is, it’s not hard for Tengen to get his hands on the newest, latest sex toys. His penchant is decent as a Hashira, and he’s got the input of all three wives on which models would feel the best, what the curvature and functions and textures should be to maximize your pleasure.

And so, any time the four of them are home, they’ll position you in one of the chairs at the end of the futon and mattress, a new toy in hand as they eagerly pile onto the bed. You’re expected to use the toy as you watch – thrusting in and out, angling it in time with Tengen’s thrusts and moving fingers, your own pinching and rubbing at your clit with the same speed, intensity, and mannerisms as all three women. They want your legs spread against the chair, wide and open so that they can see everything, and they’ll have you stripped down to nothing, your bare cunt and tits exposed for their viewing pleasure.

And they’ll put on an absolute show for you – clothes come peeling off, each person taking turns to sensually and seductively peel back the layers as the others touch and grope at new, exposed skin. They’ll moan and pant, Hinatsuru’s small gasps pairing with Makio’s throaty moans and Tengen’s gravely curses, while Suma’s higher-pitched whines fill the background. It’s contsant motion – Tengen’s always the first to undress, carefully folding his uniform and giving himself a few languid, tight strokes, making eye contact with you the whole time as Makio presses kisses against his neck, Suma licks at a nipple, and Hinatsuru takes over his hand, keeping the pace steady.

Suma will be next, eagerly rushing out of her kimono and slipping out of the lacy undergarments she sports, flinging her panties in your general direction and giggling when they land at your feet, the wetness of them palpable against your skin.

Hinatsuru goes next, Makio taking extra care to pull down the front of her kimono and let her chest fall out, a hand each groping and kneading at her breasts, pinching her nipples and looking at you all the while.

Makio goes last, slipping out of her clothing and spreading her legs widely, Tengen swiping a finger through her folds and licking off her slick, making a loud pop noise as he pulls them from his mouth. Each time will bring some new arrangement, the events never exactly the same, but one common arrangement is for each of them to kiss for a few minutes, continuing to grope and play with each other while loud, wet, slurping noises fill the bedroom air, until finally Tengen pulls away from Suma with a groan, settling down onto his back and grinning.

Jealous? He’ll ask you, grabbing at Hinatsuru by the hips and pulling her down to hover over his face, hot breath brushing against her cunt and making her bite her lip. Tengen will send you one last look, his voice clipped as he tells you to watch closely and don’t stop touching yourself, and then suddenly he’s pulling Hinatsuru all the way down, leaving not a hair of space between he tongue and her. She’s immediately humming and softly gasping, one hand tangling into his hair while the other grabs at Suma, pushing her onto her back and pulling her hips closer.

It’s typically at this point that you start to squirm, watching as she immediately dives between Suma’s legs, fingers slipping inside her and curling as her tongue works in circles, Suma’s hands coming up to clutch at the pillow under her head and toy with her breast.

Meanwhile, Makio’s settling over Tengen, pale fingers wrapping around his cock and lining him up against her, sinking down and letting her eyes roll to the back of her head with a simultaneous groan from Tengen, only partially muffled by Hinatsuru’s thighs. It’s vulgar, really, watching the way Makio starts bouncing, breasts rhythmically slapping against her ribcage as she moans, all the while keeping eye contact with you.

It’s loud – the wet, clickly noises and all the moaning and groaning, and the room is suddenly much too hot and humid. And what makes it all worse is how they’re all looking at you – stealing glances or blatantly staring, and oh god is that your name they’re moaning out?

Suma’s whining, looking at you through half-lidded eyes and slurring it together with yes yes yes, even while she pulls at Hinatsuru’s hair. Makio, too, is babbling out all sort of praise, telling Tengen he’s so – fuck, so big Lord Tengen, oh god you have to feel this too followed by your name over and over and over, like some sort of mantra.

It’s too intimate and it feels so much like something you shouldn’t be looking at or witnessing, but the moment you stop thrusting the dildo or playing with yourself, Suma’s shakily reaching out and smacking at your knee, her face contorted into something between a pout and a gasp as she tells you n-no! Don’t stop, don’t stop!

It’ll last much too long, some twenty minutes of writhing bodies, and at some point it devolves into them complimenting you, telling you that you feel good or that you’re so pretty or that they want to fuck you so bad, god please just let us!

It’s too much, but it’s only once you’ve finally orgasmed that it’ll all stop. The moment they see your body tensing up, your breathing getting more labored, your thighs shaking they’ll all freeze, watching you with rapt attention, even a bit of drool dripping along Tengen’s chin. They’re watching your face as your high hits you, listening and shivering at the sounds you make, your own pleasure often forcing their own orgasms to hit.

(Particularly for Tengen – cum’s flooding Makio without any warning, his balls twitching underneath her and cum dripping down and smearing along the insides of her thighs, too much for her to keep inside.)

Once you’re finished they’ll let you leave, hoping that watching them was largely responsible for your orgasm, and once you’ve slid the shoji door shut they’ll start up again, your used dildo eagerly being grabbed and thrown into the mix, the moans and whines of your name still audible long after you’ve retreated to the other end of the Estate.

It’s overwhelming, really, and so very intimate in a way that makes your skin crawl, but try as you might to ignore it, eventually you’ll grow to be curious, to wonder if Hinatsuru’s fingers and Tengen’s tongue can really be that incredible. And the moment you make any move whatsoever towards joining them?

Well, the frenzy to touch you, taste you, feel you, fuck you is almost too much, almost enough to make you back away again, but they won’t let you. Not when you so clearly want it – want them.

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Cumplay

Particularly for Tengen, this is true – he’s not terribly possessive as far as yanderes go, but there’s still something undeniably pleasing to him about the idea of marking you as his. He likes the idea of making it abundantly clear that you are his woman, just as you are Hinatsuru’s, Makio’s, and Suma’s woman. He wants both you and other people to understand that you are permanently claimed, and what better way to do that than through sex, where it’s both intimate and pleasurable?

And so, you’ll notice very quickly that Tengen has a penchant for finishing either inside of you or on you. And actually, his preference is often on you rather than inside. He loves to fill you, of course, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when he pushes himself as far inside of you as he physically can, a gasp tearing its way through him as cum absolutely floods you, the warmth and pressure of it inside of you making you squirm.

It’s erotic, thrilling, so very natural, but it doesn’t quite satisfy the possessive edge that Tengen feels. It’s good because he feels that he’s claiming you in the most carnal way possible, but it’s still not enough – and so, the next time Tengen fucks you, he’s pulling out at the last minute, hand moving so quickly as he strokes himself that it’s genuinely a blur, before rope upon rope of hot, runny cum is landing against your pussy, dripping down and following the curves and dips of your folds, winding up with your entire cunt absolutely covered in his seed.

It’s messy and dirty and it makes Tengen practically salivate, the sight enough to make him hard again, cock bright red and pain bleeding into pleasure because oh fuck, he wants to cover you in even more. There’s something about the sight of his cum on your skin that just feels so very right, dare he say even flashy – it’s a pride thing, and he’s not picky about where on your body he finishes.

 He’ll cover your cunt in rope after rope of cum, two thumbs spreading your lips wide so he can see your clenching hole, groaning lowly as he thumbs a bit of the cum against it, smirking when you clench so hard that some of it slips inside you.

He’ll smack your ass and mercilessly squeeze as he fists his cock over you, finishing against your pretty skin and staring down at the sight, loving the way you whimper slightly as he makes comments about how you look so fuckin’ good, baby, do you like being covered in me?

He’ll have you on your knees in front of him, your fingers wrapped around him as he tells you to open wide, painting your tongue white and giving himself an extra squeeze after just for good measure, just to make sure he gets every last drop onto your awaiting tongue.

He’ll finish on your chest, cum smearing across your nipples, moving forward to lick it off and flick and pinch at them, something like a strangled groan sounding from his throat because the taste of him on your skin is intoxicating in ways he can’t even describe.

And of course this kink doesn’t just extend to only you and him – oh no, the other wives are often involved, as well. He’ll bend you over and fuck you full, hips not stopping their movements until you’re shaking and a whining mess, cum trickling out and making a wet schluck schluck noise. He’ll slowly pull out with a hiss, sending a quick, payful smack to your ass, only to be immediately replaced by Makio, who eagerly grabs a handful of cheek in each hand, spreading them and groping as her tongue dips inside you, greedily sucking at and licking up every last glob of cum she can, paying no mind to the way you squirm and writhe at the overstimulation. Suma will be gagging around his length, pretty tears welling in her eyes and her jaw starting to ache at the stretch, only to have Tengen finish on her collarbone and breasts. Suma will giggle, giving his tip a quick kiss, then whine out your name, practically manhandling you as she makes you lick her clean, her gasps and moans as your tongue circles her areolas and sucks at her nipples ringing in your ears. And once you’re done, Tengen will expect you to clean him up, too – he’s still hard, still a deep, swollen pink color, and he’ll watch with a smile as you obediently lick up every last bit, leaving him clean and ready for the next orgasm.

And really, the kink isn’t even just limited to the bedroom – no, he’s more than happy to incorporate his cum in your day-to-day life, too. Even before he’s stolen you away to warm the Uzui bed at the Sound Estate, he’s idly fantasizing about you interacting with his seed. He’s not a complete creep, though, and so he’ll bar himself from acting on some of the more depraved, disgusting fantasies he’s harboring.

He’s daydreaming about snatching that pretty bowl of noodles you prepare for yourself nearly every night for dinner and jerking himself so fast that he can’t even breath, the off-white creamy texture seamlessly blending into the broth of the noodles, tip bright red and his breath unsteady because oh god, you’d look so dirty and sexy and risqué eating this and he wants to see it more than anything in the world. He won’t, obviously, but it doesn’t stop him from thinking about to an almost maniacal degree, instead making Makio settle between his legs and lick and suckle at him until he’s shooting blanks, all the while murmuring your name.

No, he’s not some depraved monster that would forcefully feed you his cum, no matter how raunchy and enticing the idea may be. Instead, he’s much more refined – that is, only a true pervert would trick you into ingesting his seed without your permission. Instead, Tengen finds other methods to get you to interact with his cum – ways that feel less invasive, less directly disturbing.

That is, it seems like a sweet gesture when you arrive home to find a pretty, decorative bottle of lotion waiting outside your front door one afternoon. It’s delicate packaging, a pretty bamboo with all sorts of flowers painted onto the wood, a small note attached claiming to be from the Uzuis. There’s a bit of writing from each of them – each filled with all sorts of proclamations of you being beautiful, of your skin being so soft and pretty that they felt you needed to have a good, high-quality, all-natural moisturizer to upkeep that level of perfection. And oh, isn’t that a funny coincidence! The wives have just recently gotten into the hobby of lotion making, learning all about the herbs and medicinal treatments that can be imparted into it.

Just ignore the slightly bitter smell to it, and the way that it’s awfully runny for a lotion, and the way that the discoloration seems a little too intense. It’s a home-made gift, after all, and one that each member worked very, very hard to make for you – hours of work, really, all with you at the forefront of their minds.  

So really, it’s a possessive thing, yes, but Tengen just likes the idea of the intimacy and lewdness that seeing the way you look all covered in his seed provides him – rather flashy, he might even say.

Voyeurism

While Tengen loves joining in on the fun, of course, there’s something very, very appealing about the idea of watching you get fucked. He’s got three very capable wives who’re all just as eager to get their hands on you, panties already soaked the moment their skin touches yours, and so why wouldn’t he want to see them go to work and leave you a moaning, disheveled mess?

There’s something erotic about being a bystander – he likes the idea of simply watching, of being a fly on the wall. This way he can see every angle that he can’t when it’s him hovering over you or guiding your hips to ride him harder and faster. And you’re damn pretty like this – he can see everything in real time, eyes glancing between your face, your pussy, your ass, your chest, and everywhere else he can greedily take in so fast that it’s almost dizzying, too desperate to take everything in to focus on any one thing.

It’s almost a kink for cucking, frankly, with how often he suggests it and the level that he enjoys it. Of course, you’re his woman, his wife, his cute little cunt that he gets to fuck and leave dripping with his cum, but you’re also his wives’. He’s not jealous when their hands settle on your skin, and so it’s very often that he’ll settle back into the corner of the room, sitting in a chair with his legs spread wide, one hand behind his head and the other idly cupping his balls, staring with rapt attention as Suma impatiently undresses you, Hinatsuru and Makio groping at every newly exposed inch of skin in a frenzy, wet kissing and sucking noises filling the room.

His expression remains neutral for most of the ordeal, too concentrated on watching and taking in every detail, all the while his fist slowly wraps around his base, pulling up and down, squeezing harshly and thumb playing with the tip as the scene unfolds in front of him.

And the wives are more than eager to put on a good show – there’s all sorts of dirty talk, each woman telling you exactly what they want to do with you. And frankly, the level of detail is crude – Makio’s telling you that she wants to taste that cunt of yours, want to make you squirt all over my face while Suma’s complimenting you in that awed, too-excited voice of hers that your tits are so pretty, can I touch them? Can I squeeze them and suck on your nipples until you come?

Even Hinatsuru exaggerates ever so slightly to entertain Tengen and fluster you, her voice ever-calm as she nips at your earlobe and tells you to get on your hands and knees so I can fuck you, love.

And they’re always so painfully honest that it makes you squirm in embarrassment and also discomfort. It’s flattering, in some far-off, fucked-up way, but the phrasing is too vulgar, too frequent, and too fervent to really let you enjoy and flatter yourself with it, because can you really be that flattered when you simply moan their name and their orgasm hits them like a fucking truck?

The whole thing is narrated as it’s happening, too, each wife talking about how good you feel and how pretty you look riding their strap, how sexy you look when you’re sitting on their face, how adorable you are when they keep rubbing and sucking at your clit long after you’ve finished. Their voices are breathy, uneven and choppy, pleasure tinging their words and often borderline unintelligible as they trail off into a moan or start begging you for more more more.

It’s uncomfortable, yes, but the moaned pleas and verbalized fantasies play into the experience, and though all three are doing it mostly to please Tengen initially, he starts fading away the longer they have you in bed with them. Their attention shifts entirely to you, almost forgetting about each others’ presence as they focus on touching you, making you touch them, making you come for them, them coming for you. It’s as if they’re in an entirely different world – one that Tengen absolutely loves to see, because if there’s anything that makes him happier and hornier it’s to see all three of the women he’s madly, deeply in love with absolutely losing their fucking minds over the fourth woman he’s so painfully obsessed with.

It’s arousing and leaves him on the edge of his seat, biting his lip and spitting into his palm again and again, the friction with how fast he’s moving his hand demanding more and more lubrication. And all the while Tengen’s still pumping himself, his stare uninterrupted despite the rather violent pace he’s set for himself. His thighs are tensing and his abs clench as he watching, but he wills himself to not finish until you do, to hold off his orgasm so he can come with you, even if he’s not the one touching you and bringing you there.

And when he feels that you’re getting closer, he’ll stand up from the chair, fist still diligently working his cock, taking occasional breaks to delay his orgasm as he fondles and gropes at his balls, only to inch closer to the four of you. He’s still staring, silent, but he gets closer and closer until he’s climbing onto the futon as well, getting onto his hands and knees, eyes still trained entirely on you. He’s keeping his fist stationary now and instead moving his hips to thrust into it, hissing through his teeth as he watches the way wives play with you, thrusting their fingers and dildos in and out again, matching his own thrusts to the same pace so it feels like he’s the one fucking you.

It’s just so dirty and sinful, and when he finally watches as you cry out and gush around Hinatsuru’s fingers, he can only throatily groan, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he shuffles forward like a crazed man, getting so close to you that he’s straddling over your laying form, tugging and jerking at himself so harshly only mere centimeters from your face.

And then suddenly he’s coming, a slew of curses falling from his lips as spurt after spurt sprays from his engorged, swollen tip and lands in streams on your face, the sight only making him grit his teeth, a second orgasm hot on his heels because you just look too fucking good. He’s breathing heavily after that, staring down at you with wide eyes and an open mouth, but once he’s had his fill he’ll simply lean forward and lightly smack your cheek with his cock, licking his lips and telling you in a strained tone to keep going, I want to see you come at least three more times.

So really, he’s note entirely uninvolved in the sex – simply watching until the time is right, wanting to time your orgasms together so that you feel connected and bound together. He thinks it’s sweet, really, but as Makio and Suma both lean down to eagerly lap up the rivulets of cum steadily dripping down and from your chin, it’s hard to find it endearing – not when Hinatsuru is already mouthing at your cunt again and not when you can physically feel the way Tengen is staring at you, already rock hard again and filling the room with the wet clicking sound of his strokes.

How very sweet.

Orgasm Control

As a general rule, Tengen is a fucking tease in bed.

There’s something captivating about the way you respond to his touch that drives him absolutely insane – he loves that a single brush of his fingers against your sensitive skin gets you gasping softly, his ego soaring because god, is he that good to you? He loves that a fleeting, teasing kiss against the inside of your thighs or the sensitive skin of your neck makes you whimper slightly, your eyes all big and doe-like and so very, very precious. He loves that a simple smack of his cock against your clit leaves you shuddering, the wet plop noise leaving a sticky, translucent line connecting his tip to your skin, everything so wet and messy and dirty.

He just loves the way that your body responds to him, even if your mind is slower to accept the pleasure and sexual gratification that he’s so eager to provide you with. And so, Tengen takes this and runs with it – that is, he’s never actively aiming to hurt you, but he has no problem teasing and making you beg for the orgasm he’s so confident he can give you.

And really, he should be confident – he’s got more experience than he knows what to do with, considering how sexually active he, Hinatsuru, Suma, and Makio are even before you step into their lives. That coupled with his extreme, borderline fanatical dedication to learning your every expression and sound in bed leaves Tengen as a sort of glorified sex-god, capable of bringing your body to the brink over and over and over, without even breaking a sweat.

And so, you’ll notice very early into your sexual relationship with him that he has a tendency to treat your body like a toy of sorts; fascination written across his face as he sinks his fingers into you, curling and rubbing against the sweet spot that makes your toes curl, eyes bright and wide as he stares down at you. He’s moving his thumb to rub circles against your sensitive clit, your legs shaking because fuck, how does he know exactly what pace and angle you like it?

(The answer, of course, is the stalking and long, explicit conversations with his wives about what specifically they like and what they think you’d like, too. They’re all eager to become experts at fingering you – taking turns practicing on one another, testing out different paces and angles, new techniques with their tongues and even brushing a finger over clenching assholes, anything and everything they can think of that you’d possibly like.)

He’ll be so attentive that it’s almost uncomfortable, the attention and awe in his eyes making you feel too exposed and vulnerable, but then all too suddenly you feel the telltale signs of your orgasm, squirming and shaking as he keeps working his fingers in and out and curling and grinding and oh, fuck fuck fuck-

But then the feeling is suddenly gone, the pleasure plateauing and plummeting, something akin to a whine falling from your lips because that possibly the lead-up to the strongest orgasm of your life. And Tengen will only laugh, licking off every bit of your slick from his fingers only to playfully smack your thigh, a grin settling on his face as he tells you that you shouldn’t just expect to get it – you have to earn it. Can you do that for me? Show me that you want me to fingerfuck you into an orgasm.

And he’s deadly serious – he'll make you straddle him, his pelvis wide and your hips stretching to accommodate, your cunt pressed so wantonly against his clothed cock, the fabric getting wet as he looks at you expectantly, that same cocky look on his face.

Well?

He’ll lean back, arms crossed behind his head as he watches you, shame eating away at you as you slowly move and grind, the pleasure good but nothing like what you’d experienced mere moments before. He’ll let you slowly grind for a while, finding the sight of you completely nude, wantonly using him to be very, very enticing, but eventually he’ll decide he’s made you suffer enough. A thumb will come down to rub at your clit, the moan you let out making his chest swell and his cock throb sharply underneath you – enough for you to feel it distinctly.

You’re awfully cute, he’ll start, only to suddenly have you on your back before you can blink, his lips hot on your and his tongue already running along your teeth, pressing deeper and deeper into your mouth, trying to taste and touch as much as he can. He’ll pull back with an exaggerated, lewd pwop sound, licking a long, wet strip along the seam of your lips. You’re cute now, but how ‘bout you show me just how fucking good you look when you’re creaming on my fingers?

And then he’s manhandling your legs apart, lips suddenly attached to your clit as he slips two fingers inside, resuming his pace and making your back arch up and off the futon. Red eyes watch with rapt attention as you slowly unravel, your cries getting louder and your hips threatening to buck, only weighed down by a heavy palm against your navel.

You’re so pretty, he thinks, and as you gasp out a slurred ‘m coming, he finds himself shallowly humping at the ground underneath him, hips scooping and gyrating as he watches the way your mouth opens in that pretty ‘o’ shape, your eyes squeezing tightly shut and your hands grasping for purchase, for anything to ground you as he works you through the pleasure. He’s keeping the same pace, tongue still drawing tight, purposeful circles with a bit of suction throughout the process, and even as your cries die out slightly, chest still heaving and your gaze falling onto him, crazed and half-lidded, the moans turning into whines.

Too much, fuck Tengen ‘s too much- He’ll cut off your rambling with a sharp smack against the fat of your breast, effectively shutting you up as he keeps up the pace, the oversensitivity driving you mad. It’s overwhelming, but even as you beg and try to wiggle out of his grasp Tengen won’t let up, instead buckling down and pressing onto your clit harder, slipping a third finger inside and pressing down on your navel even harder, watching the way your eyes cross and your stomach clenches.

He’ll easily pull three or four orgasms from you every time the two of you get intimate, often in quick succession, if only because the sight of you overstimulated and fucked out of your mind leaves him salivating, cock so hard it physically hurts because god, you look good like this.

It’s heaven, and he’ll often enlist the help of his wives to get you as dumb and overstimulated as possible, hands grabbing at every inch of your body and mouths leaving every part of you wet and sticky. It satisfies the protective urges he feels towards you to some degree, loving the way that you become so dependent on his touch to reach your high, the way you clutch onto him and keep chanting his name stroking his ego so heavily that it’s nearly enough to make him reach his own orgasm, too. He wants to see your muscles twitching weakly, your chest heaving, the pretty black eye makeup Suma had begged to put on your earlier trickling down your cheeks and making you look so messy and unhinged and hot.

You’re just so, so very endearing, and while he’ll always curl you into his arms, pressing your cheek against his chest and peppering too-long, too-wet kisses against your hairline and the crown of your head afterwards, Tengen’s goal each and every time he’s between your legs is to absolutely ruin you.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Clothed Sex

In general Tengen finds your body to be absolute perfection. He’s an appreciator of the female form in every way – finding women of all shapes and sizes beautiful, salivating over his own three wives like a dog in heat every time a sliver of skin is exposed or the urge takes him. And so, this naturally extends to you as well – he’s very, very sexually attracted to you, and enjoys the skin-to-skin intimacy that sex can bring.

However, while he loves to have the five of you completely nude, completely bare to one another and completely exposed in every possible way, he’s also a fan of rather unorthodox sexual ideas. And so, the prospect of clothed sex is something that happens to pass through his mind one day after walking by a red-light district shop, with illustrations sitting in the windows for purchase. It’s a small thought and one that merely makes him stop and ponder the image for a while, hand at his chin and his head tilted, but when he returns home from that mission he’s eager to try the fantasy out.

It’s not difficult to convince his wives, all three of them jumping at the chance to try something so erotic and oddly dirty, and it’s only natural that they encourage you to participate, too. At first, he only keeps a few items of clothing on just to test out the waters – he’s only wrapped in a loose, casual haori with his signature headband on. Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru are all in various states of undress, keeping panties or a light overdress on, the fabric sheer enough to see the general outline of their breasts and the curve of their asses through the material.

But you – oh, well, as attractive as the idea of clothed sex where you’re also clothed is, all four of them had agreed that they simply can’t bear to not have complete access to your body. They can’t not be able to see and look at every inch of you, your soft skin available to kiss and touch and grope at, your curves bouncing and jiggling and the ricochet of hips slapping against yours completely visible to the eye. And so, the first few times it’s not too noticeable – the feeling of cotton against your skin is a little odd as you sink down on Tengen’s cock or kitten lick at Suma’s clit, but it’s not too uncomfortable.

And with every time they get a little bolder, keeping more and more clothing on until all four of them are fully dressed, all while you’re completely nude. It’s a strange feeling – you’ll feel exposed, too exposed, completely vulnerable while they’re all dressed in uniform and kimonos, skin hidden behind fabric.

But they absolutely love the sight – you’re truly the star of the show this way, and they’re quick to coax you into touching them through and around the clothing. Makio’s encouraging you to reach into the top of her kimono and pull both breasts out, the soft, pale skin hanging out of the fabric, nipples already rock hard and hyper sensitive when she pulls you closer and guides your lips to suck on one.

Suma’s giggling and blushing furiously when she has you grind against her ass, your hand slipping up to squeeze and grope the fat through her clothing, her own grinding getting faster and harder, pushing back against you so strongly that you have to brace yourself on something nearby.

Hinatsuru’s only sighing and smiling when she has you dive underneath her kimono, gently pushing her panties to the side as you kiss and lick at her, her thighs moving to tighten around your head and lock you in place.

And Tengen can only smile and lick his lips when you dig under the waistband of his uniform pants, shivering lightly when you grasp at his cock and slowly stroke him, your movements clumsy under the fabric and only making him leak more precum because oh, aren’t you so very precious?

It's humiliating, really, the power imbalance more than apparent, but they absolutely adore it. You’re just so very tempting, and they’re more than happy to sink their teeth in and take a bite out of you.

Toys

It's a given, really, considering that the Uzuis were already rather sexually active before their infatuation with you form, but they are certainly no strangers to incorporating toys into the bedroom. It’s practicality more than anything else – four people is a lot, and it’s not uncommon for one of them to simply sit back and watch, masturbating with the aid of a toy as they watch their spouses go at it.

And so, as a new member of the ‘relationship’, they’ll be more than happy to extend this philosophy to you, too. And you’ll have absolutely anything your heart desires – every dildo under the sun, all sorts of shapes and materials and sizes.

(With the stark exception that you are not allowed to have one that is comparable to Tengen’s size or larger, simply because he wants his cock to be the ultimate for you, to be the one that fills you the best, the most complete, the one you crave most.)

You’ll have access to any sort of special pillow designed to be ridden, any sort of clitoral toy, anything and everything. And all four of them are eager to use them on you – to press the small, textured sheet against your clit and rub in circles and listen to you gasp. They’re happy to spread your legs as wide as you can stretch, cunt uncomfortably on display as they sink the dildo inside of you, the others watching with rapt attention mere inches away as you look away and moan, the attention and the adoration in their eyes nearly suffocating.

They’ll even attach the nipple clamps to your poor, sensitive tits, Hinatsuru’s eye glinting with some sort of sadistic glee as you wince slightly and grind against Tengen’s crotch, the pain strangely arousing under her gaze.

And of course, the wives will absolutely be using their straps on you – they’ve got the nicest harnesses on the market, with dildos made out of glass and flexible materials, all sorts of dimensions that they’re eager to try out on you. Each woman has her own favorite, too, of course – the one that she prefers to be fucked with, and so of course that’s the one she’ll use on you.

(It’s intimate, in their heads, and it’s often that they’ll share toys with you without washing them first, loving the idea that their slick and cum is inside you, loving that they’re almost one with you now.)

Hinatsuru’s is long, with a ramrod straight length that always leaves you clutching onto the sheets and squeezing your eyes shut with how it just never seems to end. Makio’s favorite is a little shorter but much wider, the girth enough to leave you wincing slightly in pain because it stretches you out nearly to your limit. Suma’s is more modest on the length and birth, but it’s got this absolutely insane curve upwards that brushes along your g-spot over and over and over again, leaving you arching your back and clawing at anything you can find because it’s just too good.

But be careful, because while Tengen loves to watch the shows you put on with all three of them, it’s his cock that you must crave the most at the end of the day – he wants to see all the exaggerated reactions, the gasps and screams of his name, the way your cunt sucks him in again and again and again as if you just can’t get enough of him.

And of course, you’re more than welcome to use toys on him, too – he generally doesn’t like imitations for pussies, so any sort of pocket-pussy like toy he’ll typically only use to humor you. Rather, he’s a big fan of cockrings and anything else that can act as a sort of restriction. Put a chastity cage of sorts on him and he’s breathing heavily, trying to resist the urge to just rip it off and open with his inhuman strength. He wants you to tease him, to leave him leaking so much precum that it’s pathetic, to have him on the edge of losing his mind before you finally, finally give him the release and pleasure he’s so desperate for.

The Uzuis really just like the myriad possibilities and options that toys bring them – and whether you like it or not, you’ll like it, too. They’ll make sure of it.

BIGGEST FANTASY:

Tying hand in hand with his voyeuristic tendencies, Tengen just can’t shake the idea of being intimate with you in a public place. He’s never really tried it too much simply out of fear for the ramifications it could have on his career, but the idea is significantly less easier to simply swallow down when it comes to you, where the marginal sense of propriety he feels flies out the window.

There’s something about the idea of claiming you in a public place that just really, really gets him hot under the collar, a light shade of pink covering the bridge of his nose because oh, isn’t that just so naughty and dirty? It’s a kink for the risk of getting caught, more than anything – the idea that people could hear or see, that the both of you have to stay quiet or else everyone around you will know exactly what he’s doing under that pretty kimono of yours.

It’s an enjoyment for the taboo, and a way to quell his possessiveness all while he gets to see you squirm as he makes you an absolute mess on his fingers.

And so, while it may be logistically difficult to swing if only because the Uzuis seriously limit your time in the public eye and away from the Sound Estate, Tengen could be very easily convinced to take you somewhere semi-public, to let his hand sneak between your legs and listen to the way you struggle to stay quiet and composed while he curls his fingers against the exact spot that has you seeing stars.

He’s a tease in every sense, and to see you struggle to maintain your composure because of him is arousing in a way that truly makes him breath heavier, his hands restlessly clenching and unclenching, his toes curling and his cock aching because god, you’d look so fucking cute all hot and bothered and embarrassed at getting caught.

               The theater is really quite pretty – carved wood and ornate painting against the grain, all sorts of details and skill that you’d noticed when you’d first entered. The light had been on then, the some twenty people also in the theater excitedly chattering away in preparation for the play about to begin. Tengen had led you inside, your hand tightly clasped in his own and his large body purposefully angled to shield you from any curious eyes and promptly placed you both in seats at the very far back corner of the theater. There was no one else in this row – the closest appeared to be a young couple two rows ahead of you, closer to the bulk of people near the front.

               Tengen had been awfully cryptic about the whole thing on the way there – only telling you that you’d be seeing something new tonight, and that he had a special plan on how to make it extra fun for you. The sense of foreboding was still sitting heavily in your chest, but the excitement at being in town and out of the Estate for a while was difficult to quell.

               It’s not long before the lamps are blown out and the play begins, the actors swarming the stage and reciting their lines in a way that leaves you mesmerized. The plot is something stupid, really, but you can’t find it in yourself to care – it’s too captivating.

               Wet, warm lips press against the side of your neck without warning, the sudden sensation making you jump and slightly yelp, Tengen’s chuckle and the hand that places itself over your mouth cutting off any sound. He trails kisses up and behind your ear, then down along your jaw, finally finishing at your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth before huskily whispering, “You look ravishing.”

               Unsure how to respond, you just swallow, trying to ignore his ministrations and instead focus on the play. You’re acutely aware of the people in front of you, suddenly understanding why Tengen chose such an isolated seat.

               He groans against your skin. “Promise me you won’t make a sound if I move my hand, yeah?”

               You nod, mortified at the idea of letting anyone know what he’s doing to you in such a public place. He grins, exhaling slowly.

               Large hands find their way to cup at your clothed breasts, expertly finding your nipples and deftly rolling them between thumb and forefinger. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the small sighs at the pleasure, but Tengen only pinches harder, the pads of his fingers coming up to squeeze and knead at the rest. “Shh, you wouldn’t want anyone to know what we’re doing, would you?”

               You shake your head but he chooses that exact moment to slither a hand down and tightly cup your cunt, thumb pressing right against your clit. You gasp and let out a choked sound, only for Tengen to rush forward and silence you with a kiss, his thumb continuing to rub slow, lazy circles against your sensitive skin. He pulls back with your bottom lip carefully caught between his teeth, eyes sparkling as he comments, “Seems like you do want people to know. How unlike you – you’re not normally this bratty.”

               His lips move down to settle against your collarbone, tongue slipping out to lick and suck at patches of skin. You’d surely be left with bruises tomorrow, hickies decorating the entire expanse of your chest.

               “Tengen-!” Your scold is cut off by your own shuddering gasp as a finger slips underneath your kimono and presses hotly against your entrance, teasing and prodding through the thin material of your panties. You’re clutching at the arm rests of the chair now, thighs closing around his hand and not seeming to faze him at all. He’s moved down to sucking and kissing against your breasts now, over the fabric but still letting his saliva pool against the material. Wet spots form as he moves along, surely visible with the light-colored fabric of your kimono.

               Lips curve around and suckle at a nipple through the material as he slips his finger to the side of your panties, whistling very quietly. “For someone who seems so opposed, you’re awfully wet. Care to explain?”

               Your face feels hot, embarrassment creeping up your spine as you yet again glance towards the crowd of people in front of you. No one’s looked back or noticed yet, but you can’t help but wonder when someone inevitably will.

               “This is so – so wrong! We’re in public, you can’t-“ You start, but a teasing, rather sharp bite at your nipple has you shutting up.

               “We can. And we will.”

               It’s all he says before he’s getting out of his seat and quickly kneeling in front of you, throwing your kimono up and over his head as he quickly settles against your pussy. Teeth grab at the hem of your panties and pull down, fingers quickly coming up to rip the material in half and leave you squirming. Nervously you look around again, but the tearing noise happened to coincide with a loud yell in the play, and no one seems to have noticed.

               “Tengen!” You whisper sharply, one hand coming down to rest on his head as he throws your thighs over his shoulders. With nothing separating him, Tengen dives forward, pressing his nose against your entrance and deeply inhaling, audible to you even through the muffling fabric.

               You don’t have time to react, though, as he immediately starts licking and sucking, the lewd noises filling and ringing in your ears as your eyes flutter closed, his precise movements and the aim of his tongue leaving your legs feeling weak. He sets a steady, moderate pace, his fingers slipping inside to curl and press against you. Your toes curl and your thighs clench around his head but it doesn’t seem to bother him, his free hand moving to clutch at the fat of your thigh as he moans against you.

               It’s overwhelming and it’s not long before you’re right on the edge, one hand grasping at his hair through your kimono and the other tightly locked over your mouth to stop any moans from escaping. Your eyes are squeezed shut, the play entirely forgotten as you focus on not making any noise, but when Tenge suddenly speeds up the pace of his fingers to bully them directly against your spot, you can’t stop yourself.

               You arch up out of the seat, thighs clenched so tightly around his head that for a moment you fear he’ll suffocate, slick gushing into his open mouth as your orgasm wrecks you. You’re trying to stay quiet but the chair is creaking under you and a few moans slip out, and it’s only when your eyes flutter open and the last pangs of pleasure wrack through your body that you notice the way a man roughly your age stares at you in shock from a few rows ahead, clearly aware of what just happened. You tremble, embarrassment eating you alive, but Tengen merely presses a kiss against your quivering thigh and returns to his seat, licking his licks and sucking each finger clean. The man quickly turns around, shoulders stiff and clearly uncomfortable in his chair, but Tengen merely reaches over and squeezes your hand, sending you a half-smirk, half-smile.

               The rest of the play finishes painfully slowly, and once the lamps are relit you’re immediately glancing over at the man and looking away quickly when you catch eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Tengen follows your gaze and his eyes narrow for a moment, before he clears his throat and pulls you into a searing, heated kiss, much too loud and much too wet to be considered polite. A hand settles against your hair, pulling you deeper and keeping you trapped as he has his way with you.

               The boy quickly walks away, practically scurrying out of the theater, and it’s only after the rest of the patrons leave that Tengen pulls back, eyes staying closed for a few moments.

               He swallows, the taste of you heavy on his tongue. Grabbing your hand, he pushes it against the very prominent erection straining against his trousers. “Next time, I think you should return the favor.”

[rottingbedpost]

CHAPTER 1 - Can We Be Friends?

Tags - Idol/Canon! Yoongi x 8th Member/Idol/Fem! Reader, Friends/Band Mates to Lovers, Forbidden Love, 8th Member Au

Summary - Can Yoongi & Reader figure things out after their first kiss? And what will happen when rumors spark about two certain idols at an ISAC broadcast?

Word Count - 8k

Chapter Warnings - Fluff, Angst, Pov switch, Two idiots who think the other idiot hates them, reader is lowkey a perv for Yoongi, kissing, cursing, mentions of fucking, bad attempt at humor

<previous chapter . masterlist

A/N - Thank you for the support on the prelude! Hopefully, this will hold up! I want to preface that this was HARD to write for whatever reason. I have too many paths to choose from for this fic, as it’s the start. So much was cut and saved for later, or possibly to be thrown out. But it is starting to put itself together. Enjoy!

Can We Be Friends?

– – –

January 11th, 2016 - 9:00 PM

When you came into the studio, it was… mostly empty. Minus one person. The one you kissed two weeks ago.

You knocked on the wall softly, letting him know you were there. Resting into the door frame. He turned in his chair to face you. Weird. You were only fifteen minutes late. Did the rest already finish so soon? And if so, why is he still here?

“Where is everyone?” You asked. You were supposed to all meet up in the studio, at least that's what Namjoon had texted you. A last-minute session.

“Oh… It’s just us… The guys all got caught up. They weren’t available.” You could tell by the look on his face that he was holding something back. Unlike with the rest of the guys, it always felt so plainfully obvious when he lied to you. He talks more, overexplains himself. You usually found it cute, especially when all the guys just went along with it and believed him. But right now you just want to know what he is keeping from you.

“Oh.” You took the chair next to his. Crossing your arms over your chest and biting your lip awkwardly. You feel like a child being punished. You miss it being normal to be alone.

He is hardly looking at you.

Damn this is awkward. How are we going to get anything done anymore? It used to be natural, we worked so well together. Your heart has always raced around him, it used to be okay, but now it feels like a punishable offence. As if he can hear the drumming in your chest and he hates it, he wants to turn the volume down.

“Doll… Can we talk?” That stupid name, how has he always got away with calling you that? It only makes you want him more. Maybe he will kiss you again? Please. 

Oh god. “Uh yeah… about what?” No, we can’t talk about that, please. I don’t want to hear that you hate me and that I ruined everything. I ruined our friendship. I kissed you.

“I think you know.” No. No. No. Don’t say that I kissed you, don’t tell me we should keep things professional. Fuck, what have I done.

“Oh, that?” Play it cool. Play it cool. You can already feel the water wanting to overflow, filling up your body until it reaches your eyes. You can’t let it fill up. Can’t let it out. You cry so damn easy these days. What is he doing to you?

“Yeah, That.” He breathed harshly out his nose at your relaxed attitude towards the whole thing. You wondered why you couldn’t let down the wall and ask him if he felt what you felt that night, more than alcohol, more than an amazing friendship. 

Do it. Tell him how you feel.

You can’t.

You nod, pursing your lips. Unblinking, keeping the tears from being pushed out. He is waiting for you to start, trying to read your face. 

Looking at you.

You won’t let him, not this time. You don’t want him to know that you want more, that it was probably you who kissed him. Maybe you got things mixed up in your head, and it was your thumb on his chin, not the other way around. After all, you are the one with the crush, not him. Right? But what if he does? And his hair, you remember your hands in his hair, right?

“I am sorry.”

Maybe he does? Maybe he is thinking about the same thing right now? Wait, sorry?

“What?”  No, I don’t want you to be sorry, just say you don’t regret this. You don’t regret it and you want to do it again.

“I am sorry I kissed you.”    No.

“What do you mean you are sorry?” Sorry you didn’t do it sooner? He did it? No, I did it.

“I just think I drank too much that night. I know we are just friends, and I don’t want anything to change. So, I am sorry. I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I regret it, I hope you will forgive me…” 

He regrets it…

Just friends. Fuck. What am I thinking? Of course, he doesn’t feel the same. I feel like such an idiot. What are you supposed to say? Ruin it. Ruin our friendship. Tear it apart and kiss me again.

“It’s okay… I don’t want our friendship to change either.” 

Why can’t you just tell him. Tell him you like him more than what you already are.

And finally, he looks up meeting your eyes. His eyes. He looks like a lost puppy. You might melt. Has he been hurting this much? He must have thought you hated it. Please don’t think that. 

“Really?” No, not really. I want it to change.

“Yes. I miss my best friend.” That is true, you miss having him as a friend, but after this, how could you keep pushing away your feelings? You need? Want? 

You need more.

“I miss mine too.” He flashes you that smile. That damn smile.

– – – 

February, 2016 - 9:00 AM

The whole friends thing came back to you both fairly easily. After you both talked, you spent hours working on music together, treating things like they were normal. But there is something missing, hope? Possibly? Maybe that piece you held deep in your heart, that thought that eventually you and Yoongi could be together somehow. 

But for now, you are just going to stay friends. It is the right thing to do. You aren’t allowed to date anyway. Right? That had never been a serious issue for you all, the music was your life, no time for dating. So you weren’t given the ‘don’t date’ talk very often. 

You step out of the van and into the open garage of the arena. It is a bit noisy, many other groups arriving simultaneously. The cool wind breathes down your neck, making the hair on your back stand straight and your cheeks flush. Jimin hops out behind you, poking you in the side. “Ready to lose?” You chuckle. You knew he was right. You suck at sports. Dance has been continuously easier for you than any other sport, it is far more freeing. You hated working out, only doing it because you had to, but you could spend the whole day dancing. Of course, pretty much everyone in this industry has a similar ability. Since the world is used to seeing you dance, you are forced to do these olympics for entertainment instead. 

The ISAC broadcast.

“Always!” You elbow him in the side. 

“Just don’t be a sore loser, it will give us a bad look.” You grin again. 

You get that bad habit from your family. Growing up with grandparents throwing cards & uncles screaming at refs. You aren’t as bad as them, only being caught throwing a complete tantrum at losing a minimal amount of time in life. But you still get grumpy when you lose, and you have lost games to Jimin enough for him to have seen a card or two slam across the table or a board flip in his direction, even on the rarest occasion your tears.

“I promise I will be on my best behavior.”

You smile and walk with him into the building. Wind moving your hair to one side. 

“Hopefully, I will get to meet up with the girls today!” You pronounce cheerfully. Thinking about your friends whom you haven’t seen in months. 

You have passed by at other events, but the ISAC broadcast will give you more time alone with each other. Your thoughts beg the question of whether you could tell them about your secret kiss. Ultimately, deciding it is safer not to share. They are amazing friends, and you wish you could talk with them about it. They even know about your crush, but you can never fully know who to trust in an industry like this, especially who could be lurking around the corner. If you ever do tell them, it would be in a better place, and longer after the dust had settled.

Speaking of your ‘just friend’, Yoongi has maintained quite the distance this past week. You worry about him. Hoping he isn’t struggling.

You know he goes through a lot.

Even though you have decided to make things normal, they aren’t fully straightened out. You used to be more comfortable together. Now, when one of you gets too close, the other pulls away. You don’t spend as much alone time together either. Always finding ways to keep another person there, or an excuse to leave just a little bit earlier than before.

Not that it bothers you, you are both doing it, preventing your proximity, even though you both laugh and joke together, your skinship has completely dissapated.

It makes you worry what will happen if you are alone for too long again. Would being too close make you try something? Of course, you want nothing more than to breathe his air again. Since the kiss, he has only become more attractive to you. Even after agreeing that you are just friends. 

How does he feel? 

Jimin tugs at your arm, smiling. “Come on, we need to hurry if you are going to have your little girl talk!”

– – – – – 

January 10th, 2016 - 12:00 PM

Everyone in the studio could taste the awkwardness in the air, breathe it in. Not that they couldn’t feel it in the dorms as well. The wedge placed between two best friends who wouldn’t dare look each other's way. 

‘I’m so sorry, doll… ‘

The tension is worrying the guys. You wondered if any of the guys had talked to him about it yet. Namjoon tried to talk to you when he returned from his holiday, wondering why Yoongi had come back before he did. He had shown up the next morning with enough leftovers for the two of you, shocked and almost upset, seeming like he wasn’t expecting Yoongi. 

What he especially wasn’t expecting was the strange way the two of you looked in opposite corners of the room. It was like two puppies hoping their owner doesn’t ask who knocked over the trash can.

“Hobi, can you run that again?” Yoongi spoke, upholding his cool attitude.

It wasn’t completely unlike him. Being standoffish for a few days. You were similar in that regard. You understood the days when it was hard to smile, hard to find the energy needed to goof off. But this time was different. This was lasting longer than normal, and everyone was wondering why. Minus you, the obvious, it was your fault. 

In the past two weeks, you have found the solution. You kissed him, and now he is uncomfortable. You being to blame is the only thing you could wrap your mind around. Yoongi did a kind thing for a friend, that’s all, a friend. You let your stupid crush get in the way of things. You were supposed to love him as a friend and push the rest away.

“Yeah, but play it from the start this time.”

You watch between Jimin & Taehyung as the track starts. Yoongi was sitting in front of the equipment in a desk chair while you and the others leaned back into the couch behind him. 

With his back facing you, you couldn’t help but drift your focus to the back of his head. You can’t decide whether you should thank your stylist or kill her for that choice of color. The damn green suits him too well. It might as well have grown out of his head that color. And that color, the color half a month ago you had tangled in your hands, as messy and soft as ever. You want that again.

You didn’t notice at all that Hobi had already come out of the isolation booth and plopped into the empty spot on the other side of Jimin. 

Also failing to notice that the man whose hair you were so fondly thinking about had rotated his chair and caught you staring.

“Alright, You’re up!” Yoongi spoke, bluntly. You practically choked. Had you just been checking him out so blatantly, in front of everyone? Not that it mattered, he had already turned away from you, making you miss the soft shade of pink his cheeks had turned.

Thankfully, it seemed like he was the only one who caught you, minus the ever-vigilant Kim Taehyung, who turned his head towards you, mumbling under his breath. “What is wrong with the two of you?” Knowing that on any other day your staring would have been made into a joke, but the air between you had made things different.

You pretended not to hear him. Getting up and going over to the isolation booth without anyone bringing attention to the time it took you to get up. You thought about how, on a normal day, the boys would have poked fun at you for the whole interaction. Not today, no, not in the past few weeks, worried to shed light on whatever the hell was going on.

“We just need some ad-libs over Hobi and Jungkook's parts.”

You nod in reply. Not that he would see, he had hardly looked at you since. Nevermind. Just get through the song.

Your ad-libs go well, minus a few laughs after you sang something off-key. You asked him not to put that in, in a joking manner. He just nodded, lips pressed in a flat line. Only lightly chuckling when the rest of the guys poked fun at your mistake. Was he going to be cold to you forever? 

The least he could do was pretend things were normal. At least you were trying.

After you wrapped up, you sat back down in-between Jimin and Taehyung with your arms crossed. Jungkook laughed at you, mimicking your voice crack for the third time, and making the rest of the room laugh.

He can laugh at you, but he can’t talk to you. I guess this is how it’s going to be. 

– – – –

February, 2016 - 10:00 AM

You love meeting up with your friends. It was always hard to make friends outside of your group, but you were lucky enough to have ran into these two enough at awards shows and other events to become close. You love the gossip sessions like this a lot too. Taehyung and Jimin will make you tell them everything when you get home. Jungkook will pretend to be annoyed by the conversation, but get mad at the older boys for interrupting the stories.

“I heard she got kicked out for blackmailing another idol in the company…”

“Really? Not surprising honestly.”

Nayeon always knew what was going on with other idols. She probably has the most friends out of the four of you, always knowing who is with who and whatever drama is unfolding. 

“OH!!! I almost forgot!!” She squealed, looking right at you. 

“You are gonna loooove hearing this one!” She giggles covering her mouth with her hand.

“Me?” You ask, raising a brow. You have no idea what you could be so interested in? Perhaps someone likes you? But she knows you have a fat crush on your best friend and wouldn’t care for dating someone else.

“Yes you,” Nayeon leaned in to whisper. “I have a direct source that someone is trying to steal your man.” 

Hana gasped. “OMG WHO!” 

You furrow your brows. What on earth is she talking about? “My man?”

Hana elbows you. “Yoongi, duh.”

Yoongi? Steal?

“You guys do know we aren’t together, right?”

“Oh, hush, he is yours in our book. Anyway, you know that soloist Mia?” Always a flare for the dramatics.

Mia? Doesn’t ring any bells? “No.”

“Bright orange hair?”

Her? “Yeah, I've seen her around.”

“Ok, so I was backstage at the January showcase eavesdropping on her and some girls from CLC talking about who they like and she said and I quote ‘I am really into Yoongi Oppa’ Oppa!!! She called him Oppa! My jaw literally hit the floor when I heard it.”

“What The Fuck.” Hana replies.

You don’t want to be that girl that is jealous just from another girl liking the guy you like, but you have to admit this is sort of pissing you off. You don’t even know this girl, how could she know him enough to feel ok calling him that?

“Seriously?” You ask, keeping your cool. It isn’t really that big of a deal, right?

“Yes seriously! I was so mad I swear! I couldn’t believe it!”

You can’t believe it either. The two can see the plain pout on your face you forgot to hold back. Who was this girl? 

“Are you ok? I didn’t mean to upset you?” The two look at you worried. Nayeon's hand reaching to hold your arm comfortingly. “She stands no chance, don’t think too much about it?”

You nod. “I’m sorry, I just got in my head for a sec.”

Does he know her? You shouldn’t think about it. He has no time to date anyway.

– – – – – 

January 10th, 2016 - 4:00 PM

After recording, you all split up into groups. Yoongi and Namjoon stayed in the studio to work, Jimin, Hobi, Jungkook, and Jin went to practice dances, leaving only you and Tae to go back to the dorms. It was Tae’s idea. He knew you wrote better in the comfort of your own home and said he would clean up the house and make dinner for everyone. So you both went.

You sigh and slump onto the floor, opening up your notebook to work on some lyrics. The random page you opened happened to be about your sister, Nora. Not just her, but the day you left. But you don’t want to think about it, or write about it, not with everything that’s going on right now. Maybe you could write about that instead?

You turn a new page and start writing.

‘Why did we kiss?’ 

God. Can’t think of anything interesting to write right now.

“What are you writing about?”

You look up at the man leaning against a wall with a broom in his hand. “What?”

“Yoongi? Possibly?” You furrow your brows while he keeps his face dead serious.

“What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about. And don’t think the rest of us haven’t noticed.”

“Haven’t noticed what?” You are barely whispering, looking away. Oh God, they noticed. You knew they could tell something was off, but you thought you had played it off somewhat okay, not enough for him to confront you like this. You thought they would let it slide, and maybe Yoongi would eventually just forgive you quietly and chalk it up to a drunk night. 

“Since Christmas. You and Yoongi have been completely off. He was going to be the last one home, and it seemed like he was the first. What was he doing at home? And what the hell happened?” 

“He was just worried about me being alone, he bought some food, came over, and I don’t know?”

“And you don’t know?” He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. What are you supposed to tell him? You have liked Yoongi for five years, got drunk once, and totally made out with him? Jeopardising your friendship and both of your jobs, no, everyone's jobs?

“Look, he just came home and we had some drinks, and watched a movie. That’s it. Okay?”

“Oh. My. God. YOU FUCKED MIN YOONGI!!!”

“WOAH WHAT? NO I DID NOT!”

“Don’t you dare play dumb again! I know what drinking and watching a movie is code for! I cannot believe you lost your virginity to Min Fucking Yoongi!”

You cannot believe the conclusions this man has jumped to, not to mention that he looks horrified.

“First of all, I am not a virgin, and second of all me and Yoongi did not have sex, we just-” You cut yourself off, should you even tell him?

“YOU JUST!! So you must have done something?!?” His eyes were wide, waiting for you to tell him what was going on. 

You don’t know at what point your emotions had taken the better of you, but you felt the tears start. Maybe this is what happens when you are forced to let out five years of emotions that you had planned to keep locked away forever.

“Are you okay?” His voice dropped, now in a comforting tone as he rushed towards you, leaving the broom behind.

“We kissed, I kissed him, or he kissed me. I’m not really sure.” You mumble.

“Oh…” he wrapped his arms around you, sighing a bit awkwardly. You weren’t one to cry, at least not in front of anyone. Usually, your tears came easily when you were alone, but today, they wanted to be heard by someone other than the dark and your shirt sleeve.

His hand grasped up and down your back, letting you cry into his chest. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened after?”

You sniffle a bit before answering, “Not much. He just said sorry, then… said we should go to bed…”

He nods and takes a breath, not sure how to respond. So, for a while, you just cry. It felt good to be comforted, to be held when you cry instead of taking it alone. 

Once the tears calmed down somewhat, and your breathing steadied, he pulled back slightly to make eye contact. Giving you a half smile. “Did you tell him?”

“Tell him what?” You look up at him, confused.

“That you like him?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You think I don’t know you like him? I think Jungkook and the man himself are the only ones who haven’t picked up on it.” 

You frown. Clearly, you haven’t been keeping this secret as locked away as you believed.

As if he could read your mind, he answered, “Don’t worry, you aren’t like totally obvious, it’s just that, you two have always been so close, and the way you look at him. I mean, sometimes you do check him out a bit too…”

You sigh, he was obviously thinking of today in the studio when you fantasized about his hair for who knows how long. “So, everyone knows?”

“Yeah, I think that’s why we haven’t brought it up. I tried talking to Namjoon, but he told me to just let it be. That’s why I wanted us to come home, I thought we could talk…”

“Thank you, Tae.” He smiled a bit bigger and patted your back.

“So, let's talk.” 

You sigh. “I mean… where do I start?” 

“If it’s easier… You could talk about the smaller stuff? How was it?” He pokes you in the side and raises his eyebrows suggestively. 

“I mean… It was… I don’t know?”

“Fireworks?”

“Fireworks.”

He turned to sit beside you and face the window, both of you now looking out of it together. 

“Wow… I felt fireworks once…” He smirked, making you laugh.

“So Jung Hoseok is a good kisser?” 

He started cracking up at your joke, you did too. This was nice.

“So he just… said sorry? And nothing else? Like you really haven't talked after so long?”

“No, we haven’t talked about it at all.” You sigh, watching a bird land on the edge of the tiny balcony outside, resting your head on your friend's shoulder, leaning into him.

He nods, not sure what to say. “You know you can always talk to me if you need it.”

“I know…” You see him check his watch. The others will be home in the next hour, so he needs to start dinner. “Do you want me to help cook?”

“Only if you are up to it?” Tae smiles, standing up and reaching out his hand to help you up.

You nod and get up with him. Spending the next hour finally having a calm time with one of your brothers, not hiding anything, or feeling a lie looming over you.

– – – – 

February 2016 - 2:00 PM

You huff, wiping the sweat off your forehead with your sleeve, having just come second to last in your race. Fuck, you are getting angry. You know you are more mature than this, but it’s the third time you have lost a different match today, and it is starting to get to you. 

You know you just need some time alone to cool down. So you leave the crowded arena to use the restroom as an empty space.

You wonder where Yoongi had been all day. He was hardly there to watch you lose. Usually, he would have been with the boys, laughing and watching you pout, knowing you are holding back your frustrations. But he has been practically missing all day. You try to push past it and stop at the canteen to get a half-frozen bottle of water.

It will be good to cool yourself off. You hold the plastic bottle in your hand and crush it, breaking apart the ice into a slush before taking a long sip. You sigh, tilting your head back and patting off more sweat. You are so sick of losing, you don’t know if you will make it through your last sport. Archery. 

You had been training for it, just like everyone else. It was one of your better skills, which will make your inevitable loss even more excruciating. That was always what got you the most pissed off. Losing at something you worked hard for and aren’t terrible at. But having seen half the other girls today, they are undeniably better.

Maybe it’s the self-doubt, that is what brings your loss. 

You choose to ignore that thought and continue on your search for someplace quiet. The restrooms behind the green room ought to do. You only need a few minutes to catch hold of yourself.

You exhale and push the quiet green room doors open. It’s mostly empty, a few staff are chatting in the corner. You bow and greet them, then move along towards the back hall.

That’s when you hear it. The age-old sound that makes you roll your eyes. 

Lips smacking against each other. Some of these damn idols can’t keep their paws to themselves. You understand, of course, you may have better self-control, being used to living with a bunch of guys, you don’t feel the urge to get laid every time you are at events like this. But you still get it, and you’re sure if you didn’t have a big fat crush on your group member, you would be just as… well, horny.

The tiny hidden halls were always make-out point at these types of events. You were used to it and typically chose to keep your head down and make your way down the hall, minding your own business. You just needed to take your break from the world and move along, best to stay away from anyone's relationship drama.

You keep quiet as you turn your heel into the hallway. Freezing immediately in your place.

“Ugh… Yoongi…” 

You had just seen a fucking ghost. No three. Christmas present, past, and future. All at once.

You stand there, wide-eyed in horror.

“Be quiet doll…”

Doll… He called her doll…

Min Yoongi, your best friend? Coworker? Band-mate? The boy you like? Pressing some bitch against the wall. Calling her his name for you?

No, not any bitch. Mia. The one who called him oppa in a room full of people.

How could she? How could she get what she wanted so easily? How could he move along so quickly? Or had he already been this guy? The guy who makes out with random girls in the hallway. And how come no one had let you know?

Two months ago, those were your hands in his hair, and now… Holy shit.

The sweating water bottle slides out of your hands and onto the floor as you turn on your heels, darting out of the hall. You need to get out of here. You have to get out of here. You need to be far far far far far away.

You dart past the staff in the room, earning confused looks as you scamper into the hall, tears already falling down your cheeks.

“Ow!”

You just smashed into something, no, someone.

“Wait, stop!”

You feel a familiar hand at your waist, stopping you from pushing past. 

Taehyung.

– – – – –

January 10th, 2016 - 6:30 PM

You punch Jungkook's arm at the table.

You feel lighter, having your secret not only bearing the weight on your shoulders, you wonder if Yoongi has told anyone. It is so much easier to be a bit more like yourself after letting some of it out. The whole group has a bit more positive energy because of it.

“I was just saying that I personally don’t have the issue of my voice cracking during recording, but we can’t all be the golden maknae!” He smirked.

“Whatever, Kookie! You shouldn’t make fun of someone who has watched you pick your nose this persistently!”

He hits you back. “You are such a liar! I have never done that! Jin Hyung! Get this girl in check!”

“That grin on your face says otherwise, Jeon Jungkook!” You giggle.

It feels so good to have a smiling moment with your group. Even if Yoongi still won’t look you in the eye.

Jin snorts. “We should call him digging-for-gold maknae!!”

“Hyung!!”

You look towards the other side of the table as the conversation continues. He is smirking.

Not some sort of smug look, but in laughter. 

Oh fuck. He was looking at you. His eyes, you haven’t made eye contact with him in what, two weeks now?

And suddenly his grin was gone, and his head was down, focusing back on his plate. He is acting like a child. Why can’t we let this be normal? Or even better, do it again. No. You can’t do it again. You know that you shouldn’t entertain this thought in your mind.

You shouldn’t be thinking about your hands tangling with his hair in front of everyone like this. Or his thumb on your chin, the way he breathed on your lips for a second as you pulled apart. Stop.

You thought it was magical. Were you really that terrible of a kisser? You had never had any complaints before. 

And if it was just the alcohol, why can’t he look at you anymore? 

You are staring. You only notice when, between everyone's conversation, Namjoon gives you a knowing look. As if he is some sort of cartoon character looking between two people with one eyebrow raised. 

What is he thinking right now? He probably thinks the same as Taehyung did. Maybe he knows you are ruining the group in your thoughts, tearing it to shreds, reaching across the table, grabbing him by the collar, and kissing him. You need to control your thoughts.

You shake your head at him and try to put your focus back on the conversation surrounding you.

Hoseok shook his head. “Can we talk about something less gross while we are eating? Hyung, you shouldn’t encourage this!”

“Yah! You don’t tell me what I can and can’t encourage!”

Jungkook erupted into laughter. “Yeah! You don’t tell him what he can and can’t encourage!”

You chuckled, shaking your head and taking another bite. With food in your mouth, speaking. “Weren’t you just arguing?”

“How would you know? You are too busy staring at Yoongi hyung anyway.”

Your eyes widen, and the table goes silent. Taehyung elbows Jungkook in the side for mentioning it. You didn’t think anyone would call it out like this. Oh God. This is it, how are you getting around this?

Yoongi just sat there staring into his plate, lips pursed and face getting a bit red. Fuck. He is totally embarrassed by you. You really did ruin everything with this kiss. He is so sick of you, you are sure of it.

You sit there, jaw agape, at a complete loss for words. What are you going to tell everyone?

“Is everyone done eating?” Namjoon picks up Jungkook's plate. “Come help me with the dishes.”

Your savior. Taehyung nods and starts helping collect the plates. You see Yoongi get up and go to his and Jin’s room. 

You nod, letting Namjoon save you, even though you know he is going to make you talk. What are you even supposed to tell him? You had a few drinks and kissed your shared best friend. Taehyung didn’t take it too poorly, but how can you tell two people in one day? You are already out of tears for the day. Besides, what does Yoongi want you to share? You haven’t spoken since Christmas. Is he comfortable with the guys knowing what happened? You know Taehyung wouldn’t tell a soul, but Namjoon would want to fix it, want to get it sorted out.

Jungkook scoffed. “I was still eating?” He mumbled. Making Jin, who was just playing around with him, shoot him a stern look.

You helped collect dishes and walked away from the table, into the kitchen. The silence from outside the kitchen was slowly replaced with a whispering scolding of Jungkook, and eventually a quiet show on the TV. 

You stood at the sink next to Namjoon. 

“You are going to have to tell me what is going on at some point. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“This whole thing is really weird. Don’t think we haven’t noticed. And don’t think I won’t be talking to Yoongi either.”

“I know…”

What are you supposed to say? It is so much harder to tell Joon. He is the one who has to handle the outcome. And you aren’t sure you can handle two confessions in one day. You don’t even know who was the kisser and who was kissed. You just know how it felt. How his hand was molded by some god to fit perfectly when holding your wrist. Which only makes your mind wonder how it would feel everywhere else.

‘Fuck… “

“What?” 

“I’m so sorry, doll…’

Tae walked into the room, knocking on the wall slightly to warn of his entrance. 

You exhale, keeping your face down. 

“Look… I don’t know what to tell you, Joon, just… Can you let it get sorted out on its own? I promise to tell you… Once we get it figured out.” 

Namjoon breathes out his nose and looks away, like he is thinking about something he can’t share. Taehyung comes behind you, putting his arm around your shoulder comfortingly, giving a half smile.

“Just… Please come to me, before anything else happens…”

Anything else? Does he know? The look in his eyes… I think he knows.

– – – – 

January 11th, 2016 - 7:00 PM

POV - Min Yoongi

“She didn’t tell me.”

“She didn’t tell you how she was feeling?” Yoongi sighed, hunched forward, elbows on his knees, looking at the computer next to the sound board.

“No, she didn’t tell me you kissed, just acted like she would figure it out on her own, she definitely told Tae though. I can try to ask him what she said, but really, you should just talk to each other…”

Namjoon was no help at all. How can you just talk to her, you have gratuitously fucked everything up. All over a stupid crush. Not stupid, but you can’t like her. All because you were emotional. After the fight with your parents, you couldn’t be alone. You are such a jerk for that. She is the only girl in the dorms, and you made her uncomfortable. You used her. You weren’t supposed to kiss her. FUCK. It just happened, and now Namjoon is never gonna get off your back for it. You shouldn’t have told him.

“I don’t think she is going to talk to anyone else about it, or start the conversation herself. You know how she is.”

Yeah, I know how she is. I can’t believe I fucked this up so much. I shouldn’t have come over that night. I just missed her. I needed her after that fight. I am a fucking idiot. I shouldn’t have assumed she felt the same way. But her eyes, the way she looked at me, I must have been hallucinating.

“What am I supposed to say to her, Joon?”

“That is between you and her. You just have to figure this out. If you keep acting like this, it’s going to hurt the group.”

I don’t want to do this. I don’t know what to say to her. Why can’t I just read her mind? Not that I would want to know her thoughts anyway. She probably hates me now. I just ruined a five-year friendship over my stupid feelings. She’ll be uncomfortable around me now. I was supposed to keep her from that. I was supposed to be her friend. A good friend.

June 12th, 2013 

The night before the first showcase.

“I can’t do it, Yoongi,” You whisper.

“You have to do it, doll. You worked so hard, we all did. It’s just nerves,” He rubbed your back gently. “You can’t quit now.”

He sat at the edge of your bed next to you as you shook. Stage fright had always been a problem for you, but you had to make music; it was all you knew. Bang PD wouldn’t let you be a producer. ‘You are so talented. Everyone will want to see you dance to your songs.’

“Please don’t make me do this.” You pleaded as if he had any control over it.

“You know you have to do it. It will be okay, I’ll be on stage with you the whole time, all of us will.” 

You nod, trying to let his words sink in. You knew you had no choice.

“Come on. It’s almost midnight, you have to rest for tomorrow. Lay down.”

You listen and feel him lie down behind you in the twin bed. Chest pressed to your back, holding you. “Go to sleep. I’ll be right here. I promise”

Your shaking started to lessen as you drifted off with his warm breath on the side of your neck. 

He didn’t sleep for hours after you. He stayed up watching you breathe peacefully, finally. After over an hour of him trying to ease your anxiety. He never wanted you to feel like that again, and if you did, he promised it would never be his fault, and he would always fix it for you, no matter what it took. 

The next day, you were incredible on stage, and he made sure to tell you about it, everything great you did. And he did it again, and again, every time you performed. 

January 11th, 2016

“We should get back to work, but really, talk to her.”

“Yeah”

“When we’re done, I’ll text her to come to the studio. Then you talk. Alright?”

“Alright.”

Now to figure out what to say. I will make things normal again. 

I will get you back.

– – – – – 

 February, 2016

You glide your tongue across the back of your teeth, pressing hard. Sharply inhaling through your nose as you pull out your first arrow. Your lips were pressed in a tight scowl. 

You look angry. You are angry.

When you get to your last event after being consoled by Taehyung, you realized your opponent was none other than that orange haired bitch. She had tried to greet you warmly. Claiming to be a friend of Yoongis. Oh, friend, is that what they call it now? When someone shoves their tongue down your throat and their knee between your thighs? That's what you wanted to say. But instead, you told her it was nice to meet her. You didn’t do a good job of acting, though, based on the frown she gave back. 

You place the arrow onto the rest and adjust your stance. Feet open and shoulder width apart. You are up first. 

Inhale. Exhale.

Push. Push. Push. Click. You pushed as far as you could. You squint, aiming.

Relax. And let go. 

5 points

FUCKKKKKK How are you going to win this? You spent the whole day planning your loss, preparing for it. And now, you have to win. You feel like she has taken something from you. Something you don’t have–yet. Maybe. 

But she can’t have this. She doesn’t get to win twice. 

Her turn. You don’t look at her, you can’t. You rest your eyes on her target, waiting. 

7 points.

Fuck. She is already ahead. Four arrows to go. Deep breaths, you have to do this. 

Draw. Anchor. Aim. Release.

8 points. 13 total.

Holy shit? Could you win? Really win?

When Mia prepares for her next shot is when you see him. He is looking right at you. Does he know what you saw? Why isn’t he looking at her? She is with him? Isn’t she? Shouldn’t he want to watch her, but he isn’t. He is watching you, not watching, he is telling you something. What are his eyes saying? It’s like he misses you? But aren’t you normal? What is he missing?

6 points. 13 total.

You weren’t even paying attention. You won’t keep the tie. You can’t. 

He doesn’t break the eye contact, you have too. It was too intense, and it’s your turn.

You pull your third arrow from the basket and shake your shoulders, trying to brush off whatever that was and focus on your win. Besides, he probably just got done finger fucking this bitch. You just imagined his gaze, it’s easier that way.

Focus. Just get close enough, just enough she won’t beat it.

You bring your arms up to eye level and get ready to aim. 

Adjust. Aim. Release.

7 points. 20 total.

Ok, it isn’t terrible, hers might be lower. 

This time, you watch her. Her hair is pulled back, so is yours. She has this smile. A smile that knows something you don’t, what could it be? She looks good at this, too good at this. And not pretentious about it either. Like she knows what she has to do to win. 

You wince as she aims, like she knows what she is doing.

8 points. 21 total.

She is in the lead. No no no. You look up at the boys. They are watching you with anticipation. Like they know you will lose. Please prove them wrong, please.

You think you might cry again. But you can’t. You prepare yourself. 

Anchor. Aim. 

But you ruin it. You look up. You look at him. He is looking back.

5 points. 25 total.

You didn’t notice until they said it on the intercom. He held your eyes with his, not letting go.

One tear falls.

You wipe it off before anyone catches it, breaking away from his gaze. He caught it.

You look over to Mia. She smiles at you shyly, like she is trying to be supportive. Then she looks away, face serious, inhaling sharply and lifting her arms. She doesn’t look down when she shuffles her feet into place the way you do, the corner of her face lifting before she lets go.

Her second to last arrow. 9 points. 30 total.

You can’t do it. The anger is starting to seep through. She can’t have this. It isn’t fair. One more arrow. You will win. You are going to win. You don’t look at them this time. It got in your head. You shake it all off once again. You can do this.

You remove the last arrow. Breathing meditatively. Stance. Check. Hook the arrow. You run through each step more comprehensively in your mind this time. Until finally you do it. You let go.

9 points.

Nine fucking points.

34 total.

You can still win. There is still a chance. She just has to fumble it, just once.

You look over at her. She doesn’t seem worried. In fact, she seems sorry, as if you have already lost. It is making the heat rise to your ears. Every bone in your body is willing her to lose. Please lose.

You choose to focus on her target again. Unable to look at her, holding your breath. Please please please lose.

4 points. 34 total.

A tie.

She fumbled and you got a tie.

How? She should’ve won. You knew it, deep down. But this was it. Whatever higher power that was out there was giving you a second chance, your begging worked. A tie. You let go of the breath.

You get one shot. One extra shot.

When you look at her her brows are furrowed. She knew she should have won too, and yet here you both were. Maybe you were meant to win. Maybe you would have one victory today.

When she looks at you her appearance changes, that smile again. Is she playing with you? Teasing you with the possibility of a win? No. She made a mistake, she can do it again. 

The tie breaker excites everyone in the room. It is entertaining, right? Tie breakers? You figure as much. 

But her face, like she knows she can beat you, and your group, they are still planning your loss. But you can do it, you can win. 

You shake out your wrists as they bring out the tie breaking arrows and clean off the targets. Her eyes are on you. The heat hasn’t gone away. Even if you do win, she still has what you want. What does it matter? But you have to try. It may be immature, but you have to get something over her. He called her doll… you need this.

You can feel everyone's eyes, especially hers, as you prepare yourself. Breathe. You try to cool yourself off but the blood rushing through you is what is pushing you to focus, pushing you to do this right. 

Aim.

Release.

9 points. 

9 points. 

Holy shit? Why isn’t this making you feel more calm? You look over at Mia. She isn’t fazed. Why? She has to get a bullseye to win? That should faze her, make her nervous. But she isn’t. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t matter to her? She doesn’t need to win the way you do. Does she know she is holding him over your head? Or does it really not even matter to her if she wins or not? Because she is winning either way. 

You look up at him again, but his gaze isn’t on you. It’s on her. Making you gulp.

You can feel the tears. No, not again. You can’t keep crying about everything. You are on camera, there are a thousand people here, don’t cry. You can feel them, you know everyone can see it. Suck it up, you have to stop. You are crying and you may have just won this. Stop crying, hold it in, you won so stop crying, please stop crying.

Bullseye.

– – – – – 

Series Masterlist . Next Chapter>

© rottingbedpost  do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

A/N - Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Feel free to ask or reply to be added to the series Taglist! I am trying to be very canon because it’s an excuse to watch old BTS content. I am super excited to write the next part!! I’d love to hear any theories. I also hope this didn’t upset ya’ll 😜Also, if you reply to this or repost, thank you so much! I guarantee that whatever you say will inspire me to continue & is truly so cherished!!

TAGLIST: @benyhime

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Don't Worry About Her (Eddie Brock x Reader)

Summary: They always say, when a guy tells you not to worry about his girl best friend, you probably should. Izzy's wild and free-spirited nature has always contrasted with her best friend Eddie's quest for stability. Now that Eddie is engaged, he never expected Izzy to complicate things for both of them.

TW: Smut, creampie, lots of making out, teasing, Awkward family encounters, Explicit Words, Cheating, Minors DNI.

Word count: just dont count. it's ending. don't. okay it's around 9k but hold on.

A/N: okay. There's a lot going on. So before u guys get sick of reading this long ass chapter, let me just say thank u for staying with EZZY til the end. That's it. See A/N in the end bc 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Oh also, smut's going to be the first thing that'd hit you.

No pressure tag 💕 @jelly-rei @potter-solomons @feveredvisions @tickettride @rach5ive @lovebydaylite @dreamygirli3

Divider from @/plum98

Previous Part

Part 9 - Grilling Knightmares

"Are you still watching?"

The two are occupied again.

While the tub of Izzy’s self-proclaimed life-changing popcorn had been emptied long before she had found herself on her elbows and knees spread apart on her bed with Eddie holding her and snapping his hips from behind, lost again in the gravity of each other.

"Oh god, Eddie... that's it. That's it." her voice muffled since her face was buried against the pillow. "Don't stop! Don't fucking stop!"

Her back arched, feeling her stomach coil from Eddie thrusting inside her velvety walls from behind. "Not stopping, baby... Gonna blow soon, yeah?" he huffed.

They were just watching, coincidentally, "Friends" and as soon as they finished the popcorn, Izzy bit her lip and purposely stretched like a cat infront of Eddie. He did not need to be told anything, just spanked that naughty ass hard, pulled down her pajama shorts, spit on his palm, pumped his cock with it and slammed right into her.

"Mm-hmm... Cum inside me, big guy." she mumbled, gripping on her sheets.

Eddie turned his head sideways, staring at their reflection in her vanity mirror, her tits bouncing along his rhythm. Fuck, she was so hot. He just wants her all to himself and fuck her in all the ways imaginable. He slowed down his thrusts while watching their image in her mirror. Him fucking her from behind with no sense of remorse. Another sound came from his palms landing on her ass, leaving a clear red mark on her skin. A fucking slap again, causing her to moan.

"What's that baby? You like it when I fill you up, don't you?" he cooed, rubbing his palm gently from the area he mercilessly hit.

"I do..." she cried. "I really do, Eddie..."

He bit his lip and groaned when he heard his name from her mouth like a sinful wail, his cock twitching inside her. He gripped on her ass, parting it slightly as he looked at his glistening cock, throbbing and veiny, sliding in and out of her slick walls. Hitting her spot repeatedly, her walls clenched around him tighter, making Eddie shut his eyes and tilting his head back in pleasure. He was edging out.

"god you feel so fucking good baby.."

Just when he thought it couldn't get any better, Izzy tossed her hair, arched her back a little more, lifting her ass, and craned her neck just enough for her sultry eyes to meet his. Those dark eyes he'd never tire of drowning in. Ones that held him captive with any emotions it conveyed.

"Damn, Iz..." he groaned, leaning down capture her lips deeply, his tongue flicking across her lower lip, parting her mouth slightly. His palms rested against her sheets, the muscle in his knees tightening as it kept him stable, while his cock was still drilling in and out of her. She kissed him back, moaning in between as she gets close to her orgasm. His big and muscular figure towered over her while his lips trailed kisses on her back, his fingers playing with her nipples.

"So fucking tight, baby..." he groaned, shoving inside her deeper, making her gasp and grind him from behind. Her body quivered when she reached her orgasm, coating his cock with hers and burying her face into the pillow while screaming his name.

Eddie gulped. Reaching his as well while still driving inside from behind, grunting like a lusted animal. He slapped her ass again, making her whimper. "Please, Eddie.."

"Mmm.. you ready?" he asked, and she nodded.

Eddie felt it welling in his groin, deep within his balls, as he continued to thrust in and out, slowly, but then he rammed it one last time deep into her pussy, his balls throbbed and pulsed. He letting out a guttural moan and gripped her body, and she cried out loudly one more time until his hot cum exploded inside her, rope by rope.

"Fuck yes... yeah, baby..." he whispered, jerking his hip and thrusting all of it inside her before finally sliding onto her back, both panting. He kissed her shoulders, then the back of her ears, and whispered, "you're perfect, Iz. So fucking perfect."

She was far from that, and Izzy knew it. She was a mess. Emotionally wrecked, mentally unstable, and even physically—a cum dripping mess. Still in their post-sex haze, they naturally settled themselves sitting up her bed when his phone vibrated.

And again.

The messages from Anne were relentless and he hasn't looked at a single one ever since. He turned on his phone's Do Not Disturb mode, refusing to talk to anyone other than the people within the four walls of this mansion. Aside from the more frequent vibration of his phone caused by his fiancé, what truly caught his attention wasn’t that.

It was Izzy’s silence.

Sure, she chuckled at his joke when he poked fun at her magical popcorn before they started watching, but he could tell it was half-hearted. She would usually have a snappy comeback, but tonight she hadn't. He watched her shift beside him, bringing her blanket to her chest, her breath had been heavier since she stepped inside the house after grabbing her snack, and again now when their moment had collapsed.

That wasn’t normal. Eddie was not about to let it slide.

“What’s wrong? Popcorn’s lost its touch?”

Izzy shook her head, sighing deeply before finally speaking. “Anne was here earlier.”

Oh.

Eddie couldn't find his jokes now. It was serious. He sank deeper into the mattress, already knowing where this was going.

“She asked about us.”

“You told her."

She nodded. “I told her.”

After months of going behind his fiancé's back, he knew it was only about time that Anne knew. Eddie shut his eyes briefly, sighing deeply, rubbing a tired hand over his face. Finally realizing the reason why his phone was buzzing a lot more tonight, and why Izzy's mood was off. He's got a lot of things going inside his mind right now yet he's unable to find the right words to say so he let the silence stretch between them.

She did not have any words to say to him either, other than the fact that she felt guilty again. Not because she slept with Eddie for the hundredth time—no, that's already out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Eddie quickly glanced at her weirdly. This was rare. What he meant by that was he did not even know this woman knew how to say "sorry" or even had that word in her personal dictionary. Even during their biggest fight, she doesn't know how to accept she was wrong.

“I said it because... I couldn’t stand the thought of you going home to get hurt again. I acted on impulse, and maybe I shouldn’t have. I should’ve let you decide that for yourself.”

He saw her fingers curled into the sheets, unable to look at him, evidently looking guilty. “If you want to go home, talk to Anne and fix things, I won’t stop you. I shouldn’t have said it. It should’ve come from you.”

Eddie watched her closely, his gaze softening. Then, he took her hand, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles.

“Stop that,” he said quietly. "You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I do. I think I just ruined your engagement. I truly am sorry, Brock.”

Eddie didn’t let go of her hand, and with full conviction, he said:

“Well, I’m not sorry.”

Izzy stared at him, processing and trying to understand what he meant. He knew what it felt spending almost all your life regretting, fixing, and making things right even if it wasn't necesary. That meant ensuring she didn’t have to be either.

He looked at her and gave her a warm smile, then squeezing her hand, bracing himself into something inevitable.

They were still tangled in sheets, half-covered, and the TV was idly asking if they were still there on the screen. It was not the scenario he had in mind when he imagined this happening since they were in college. Eddie got tired of waiting and imagining this moment and he was determined to let it out of his chest.

Izzy was not stupid and she could already feel it settling in her stomach when Eddie straightened his body, fully turning to her.

"I used to think it was just protective instincts," he started with a stupid smile on his face. "You know, us growing up together. Watching your back, making sure you didn’t get yourself into too much trouble even though I always ended up cleaning your messes anyway."

Izzy snorted softly but didn’t interrupt.

"But then… it wasn’t just that." His fingers hovered over the sheet, absentmindedly tugging on it as his attempt to ground himself. "It became more than just making sure you didn’t end up at a random police station after doing something reckless. It became me needing to see you and talk to you every day. My whole damn day felt off if I didn’t."

Eddie inhaled, glancing at her, he looked so utterly unguarded that it nearly knocked the wind out of her. His eyes were sparkling, his smile was automatically blending along with his words, and his voice was raw.

"You know how your eyes do that thing?" he said, gesturing vaguely to his own eyes. "They turn into crescents when you smile? I swear, Iz. You could ruin my whole week, but if I see that smile, hell, it makes everything better. And don’t even get me started on your laugh—"

Izzy felt her cheeks burn, her heart hammering in her chest like some little flustered high school girl getting asked to prom by her crush. Oh god. He was really doing this.

Eddie chuckled at her silence, shaking his head. "You’re the funny one, Knight. But I swear to God, I feel a stupid amount of accomplishment whenever I make you laugh. Like, it’s better than getting a great scoop for the next Brock Report episode."

Her mind was swirling with so many colliding thoughts and she couldn’t take it anymore. Her ears were hot. She huffed, covering her face briefly before pulling her hands down, leveling him with a look.

"Brock, are you really doing this?"

He grinned and nodded. He expected her to attempt to deflect.

"Yes, Knight, I’m doing this."

Izzy exhaled in amusement and defeat, waving a hand in surrender. "Fine," she murmured, trying and failing to hide her smile. "Go on, Brock."

He did not need to be told twice and neither of them had to pretend anymore.

Eddie let out a breath, running a hand through his hair, pacing himself through the truth settling between them. Izzy was still sitted beside him, fingers grasping the sheets in her chest.

“I don’t know if I’ve got a bad case of Stockholm syndrome or something,” Eddie teased, glancing at her, “because you drive me insane.”

She chuckled, thinking to herself what a dumbass this man was right now.

“But whenever you leave, it’s like I can’t breathe.” Eddie exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “All I do is just wait for the day you come back and yell at me again over something petty, or get me to run to you during the most ridiculous hours."

He paused, meeting her gaze. "But I wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

Izzy raised a brow, but smiling like she knew it. She knew she loved all of those things and just waited a long time to hear this.

"Fucking hell, baby, I never knew I could love, hate, and want the same person at the same time."

She snickered, shaking her head. “Wow, thanks.”

Eddie laughed softly at that, then, without hesitation, he cupped her face, thumb grazing her cheek, refusing to break the moment now that he's about to say it.

"I know exactly what kind of person you are," he murmured while his eyes searched hers. "And I love every goddamn bit of it."

"You never stick around long," Eddie continued, his fingers lingering and holding her firmly to grounding her in place. He wanted her to soak every word coming out of his lips. He wanted to see how she takes it all in. "You’re the same dove I’ve loved then and now. And maybe I’m tempted to lock the doors, throw out the keys somewhere you won’t find just to keep you to myself, but I wouldn’t do that."

His grip softened, thumb brushing against her jaw, his tongue briefly running through his bottom lip to dampen it, preparing for his next words.

"Because a dove knows where its home is." he said calmly and his eyes are filled with nothing but adoration. "And I know you’ll always come back to me."

Damn right she will.

She raised a brow, lips curling slightly, challenging him. "So you think I’m that predictable?"

Eddie chuckled, shaking his head.

"Baby, you’re a freaking tornado. By all means, no way in hell predictable." he answered with his confident and crooked smile. "But I’ve been managing the eye of it since we were kids."

"And I don’t mind doing that for the rest of my life because—"

Thump.

“I love you,” he breathed. “Chaos included.”

Finally.

Eddie Brock has said the magic words.

Izzy didn’t respond with words.

Instead, she leaned in, letting go of the blanket around her chest as her fingers threaded into his hair and kissed him deeply. He returned each kisses with the same passion, if not more, his arms circling around her waist, pulling her closer.

Because there was no way he was letting her go.

When she finally pulled back, lips barely inches from his, she murmured, “I thought you’d never say that.” followed by her signature teasing smirk, “So what, you finally found your balls?”

Eddie scoffed, shaking his head, eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Izzy’s smirk widened as she leaned in again, pressing another slow kiss against his lips, whispering against it, “I know, big guy.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. “You said it twice.”

Indeed he did. It felt so damn liberating. Eddie sighed, realizing yet again, he had actually lost the verbal sparring match with his best friend and he did not mind.

Sunday morning.

The day of the annual Knight Family Barbecue. Izzy's parents have always hosted this in their backyard. It started when her dad was still in the military, often deployed to other parts of the world. So whenever he was home, at least once a year, they'd gather the family around to catch up, strengthen their bond, and introduce little Isobel to other members of the family. When she became friends with little Eddie in elementary school, she insisted inviting her shy friend over until, eventually, it became a thing.

He was officially a part of it. Her relatives knew Eddie well and he knew them; they were practically a package deal, from her cousin's wedding, one of her aunt's golden anniversaries, grandparent's funeral, Eddie was Izzy's plus one.

The smell of both burning charcoal, and marinated meats are mixing with the voices of the old couple arguing whether they would set up an extra table or not. Eddie loved it. He liked the rhythm of setting up tables under Mrs. Knight’s meticulous instructions, whether the table linings matched her precious plates. He liked tossing charcoal into the hot grill pit beside Mr. Knight who was mentoring him about the precise heat control to cook the meat while ignoring how much steak juice splattered onto his shirt. Eddie was figuratively flying in and out of the mansion to the backyard.

This was the Knight family in its element and if you've come this far, you should know who is in the thick of it.

The honorary son himself.

As tradition dictated, Eddie Brock was the one doing all the damn work.

The only person missing? Isobel Knight herself.

Yup.

The so-called darling only child of the mansion, the one who thrived on disorder, the one who picked a fight with her dad yesterday at the grocery store about the difference between short ribs and baby back ribs was still asleep, dead to the world upstairs, blissfully unaware of the hurricane of preparations happening just outside her room.

Without fail, this system happens and Eddie knew exactly how this was going to go.

Soon, relatives would arrive. Aunts, uncles, cousins who are both old and young would start filling up the backyard, some screaming greetings over the fence, others immediately launching into discussions about who's brought the better dish.

And the woman he just confessed his love to last night was going to wake up to all of it.

He adjusted a tray of marinated ribs for grilling. Eddie was starting to pity himself after doing all the grunt work. "Your daughter’s still sleeping, you know," he muttered to Mr. Knight.

Her dad barely looked up, flipping a steak like Eddie hadn’t just given him damning evidence of his only child’s complete lack of responsibility.

"As she should," he said simply.

Eddie stared at him, with tongs snipping on his hand, completely unimpressed with his answer. "You’d think royalty would need to contribute at some point."

Mr. Knight smirked, shifting the meat again. "And yet, you contribute for her every year."

"I’m starting to think I was tricked into this decades ago."

The older man just hummed, clearly amused but offering nothing in the way of sympathy. Not expecting his beloved daughter to even lift a finger. Izzy would help indoors, but knowing how pissy her daughter is under the scorching sun, he knew he'd just waste his breath in scolding her. The stubborness within Isobel came from someone afterall.

Mrs. Knight passed by, setting another tray of side dishes down on the serving table before shooting Eddie a knowing glance. "Why don’t you go wake her up?"

Eddie huffed, shaking his head. "Oh, I will."

Because if he had been working all morning, Izzy was not getting away with another two hours of beauty sleep and shameless avoidance.

Not today.

Eddie stomped up the stairs with zero plans of tolerating Izzy's slacking while he spent the whole morning covered in charcoal and grease. He didn’t even knock nor ease the door open like a civilized person. Just shoved it open with his shoulder, standing in the doorway like he had just come back from war while the house princess slept peacefully in her bed.

She groaned immediately, rolling over, burying her face into her pillow.

"Get up."

"No."

"Izzy."

Izzy flopped onto her back, cracking one eye open to peer at him looking like he was a stray dog that had wandered into her bedroom, seeing him standing beside her bed, just staring back at her looking completely done.

"You smell like ten hours of labor," she muttered with her voice thick.

"And you smell like luxury and privilege."

Izzy huffed, turning onto her side, tucking the blanket closer. "Tragic. We could never work."

Eddie did not dignify that with a response and yanked her blanket away, making her gasp, feeling offended considering she was naked under those sheets.

"Eddie!"

"The barbecue starts in two hours. Your parents are downstairs. I’m sweating through layers of grueling, unpaid labor, and you’ve done nothing but sleep."

Barely awake, Izzy sat up, running a hand through her disheveled hair, sighing like this was the greatest injustice she had ever suffered. "You love doing all that," she muttered, not even apologizing.

"That is not the point," he shot back. "You’re stalling."

"You gonna do something about it?" Izzy smirked and leaned back against the head board.

Oh Isobel. Today is not the day to press on Eddie. Without any warning, he grabbed her ankle and yanked her forward off the bed, making her yell at him in outrage.

"Brock, stop!"

Eddie did not stop and dragged her halfway to the edge of the bed.

"You should’ve gotten up when I said," he muttered, hoisting her off the mattress easily, and dragged her towards her closet.

Fucking hell. This would be hot in another circumstance.

Izzy flopped against him, fully refusing to put in any effort now. This man was insane. He's gotten so comfortable just flicking her anywhere.

"You’re carrying me like a sack of flour."

"You deserve it."

"I hope my parents disown you."

Eddie sighed, finally dumping her onto her feet, pushing her toward the closet, done with this fight.

"Get dressed, princess."

Izzy groaned, but finally moved to grab a shirt. He thought that his job was done so Eddie turned toward the door while shaking his head. He was already halfway to the door when Izzy’s voice stopped him.

"You know," she mused, grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "I mean, you could leave now. But then I wouldn’t be able to kiss you."

Eddie froze, his entire brain short-circuiting immediately much to her entertainment seeing the way his shoulders tensed and his fingers twitched slightly against hers. See? Puppy dog knows his treats.

"Look at you," she teased, tilting her head again, voice sounding overly sweet and innocent in the most dangerous way possible. "I think you want me to kiss you." Leaning in and testing him.

"All you gotta do," she whispered, squeezing his wrist, "is shower."

No one was as efficient as Eddie Brock was.

Since Izzy was that insufferable, he did what any man in his position would do: he walked straight into her bathroom, turned on the shower, and let the water run hot. She barely had time to react before he was pulling his shirt off, tossing it onto her desk chair and removed his shoes.

Her eyes widened slightly. "What are you doing?"

Eddie turned toward her, unbothered, undoing the button on his jeans and pulling it down, revealing his boxers. "Showering."

"Now?"

"Well, you did say you’d kiss me after." Now removing his boxers showing his dick and bush in full view. She gulped down and did her best to put on a straight face.

"I said I could."

Eddie tossed them aside, completely ignoring that response and stepped into the bathroom. He even had the audacity to flash her an evil grin before completely stepping inside and closing the door shut.

Last night, he admitted to her that he loved her. Izzy can't stop smiling like a fool while listening to Eddie humming a song insider her shower while she got dressed as well. She glanced over his phone placed on her bedside table, tapping it lightly to check: 15 missed calls, 22 messages, all from Anne. She let it be. Maybe he was not ready to face the reality of his life for now.

Izzy barely had time to register the sound of the bathroom door opening before Eddie stepped out, damp and smug, towel slung loosely around his waist like he had no concern whatsoever about the current circumstances.

She had been pretending not to care nor notice him the moment she heard the faucet squeak closed until Eddie moved too fast towards her, barely even had time to shove him away before his arms were wrapped around her waist, tackling her down on her bed. The water droplets coming out of his hair were hitting her face. She gasped, laughing despite herself, pushing against his chest.

"Eddie, you're wet."

"Ahh. My baby's observant." he said as his arms locked tighter around her waist.

"You’re gonna get me soaked." She attempted to wiggle herself out of his arms.

"I’m okay with that."

Izzy groaned, throwing her head back, but before she could get another word in, he pressed his lips against her neck, lingering just long enough to make her really regret her own existence. She tensed, breath hitching, fingers curling against his shoulders.

Eddie laughed softly, lips ghosting against her jaw now. "Oh, so now you’re quiet?"

She was trying so hard to summon even an ounce of resistance because she was getting turned on again. His hands felt on her waist, the way his voice had dropped slightly, the way his hair was still damp, and HE KNEW what he was doing to her. He leaned in again, lips brushing the corner of her mouth.

"I did shower," he murmured.

Thank god, I had my birth control shot. Izzy thought.

She pressed her lips against his, arms circling around his neck and he sighed against her mouth, melting into their kiss. It lingered for a while, slowly and deliberately with him letting Izzy settle the pace. Her fingers grazed against the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

Eddie smiled against her mouth, barely, tilting his head slightly to ease into the kiss, keeping it steady and unrushed. He could feel her heart hammering in the way he's pressing against her. She slid her arms tighter around him, finally giving in completely and he took that cue immediately, his knees spreading her thighs and hitching up her sun dress.

Izzy huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head slightly, breaking the kiss just enough to murmur against his lips. "You’re way too smug right now."

He nudged her nose with his, gaze flickering between her lips and her eyes. "You haven’t pulled away yet." Leaning in again to press another kiss behind her ears to test the waters even more.

Then he heard a clank of silverware downstairs...

Eddie had one job when he came up here. One simple mission which he completely forgot: Wake Izzy up. Drag her downstairs. Get her to contribute to the barbecue instead of sleeping until noon like the most spoiled child in existence. He was not supposed to be sucked in her bed, fresh out of a shower, arms still wrapped around her waist, and actively contemplating terrible decisions.

"You know," she murmured, fingers tracing slow patterns against his shoulders, "I think I’m officially awake now."

"That was the goal." He answered, trying to reset his brain.

"Yeah, but now I feel energized."

"That’s great, Knight. Time to put that energy to use downstairs."

She dismantled the towel wrapping around his waist and threw if on the floor. With her gaze still fixed on his, she sensually licked her palm and slid her wet hand to grip around his already hard cock, pumping it slowly.

"There are plenty of ways to put this energy to use." she purred, still working him out underneath.

Eddie closed his eyes, feeling how good she was in giving him a hand job as he silently prayed for strength. He opened them again and immediately regretted that choice. Seeing her biting her lips, and raising her brows like asking for confirmation if they're going to do it or not.

He weighed his options like a man at war. Her parents are waiting for him to go back downstairs to help. Izzy saw his restraint and contemplation.

"Wow," she said, tapping her fingers against his chest. "You really have to fight it, big guy?" her thumb drawing circles on the tip of his cock, leaking with his pre cum.

Eddie groaned, dropping his head against her shoulder for a second, fully aware of his own weakness. She brushed her fingers up into his hair, knowing very well that it was a way of getting him to submit to her.

"Come on, big guy. Fuck me. Fuck me hard."

God. He wanted to. His hips were automatically bucking towards her entrance but he stopped. Eddie shook his head, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her grip away from his cock. Pushing himself up from her, and walking towards her closet, with his cock still hard and aching.

Her eyes were wide. What did just happen?

"The fuck was that?!" She yelled.

Eddie did not flinch and pretended he didn't hear anything as he slipped on his fresh clothes. Ignoring the whining woman on the bed.

"Baby let's get you downstairs before I make a terrible decision." he muttered in defeat, adjusting his stance in discomfort around his pants as he reached his hand out to Izzy.

"You owe me one, Brock." she grabbed his hand, pulling herself up from bed and rolled her eyes at him.

It was worse than he thought.

Worse than the blue balls he painstakingly shook off...

The second the cars pull up infront of the mansion's driveway, Izzy's little cousins bolted through the main door and tackled Eddie to the ground, climbing onto him like human jungle gym, screaming his name, demanding attention. He took it in stride, tossing one over his shoulder playfully while another clung to his arm, laughing through the overwhelming energy of it all.

Wrangling the gremlins were added to his list of responsibilities that day.

The backyard was now filled with family members. One table designated for Mrs. Knight and the infamous aunties, talking about everything they set their eyes on. The uncles gathered near the cooler, exchanging beers, Mr. Knight laughing at something one of them said.

Izzy finally emerged, after getting ready, slipping beside Eddie and helped him out with the kids. They worked together instinctively because they had been doing this for years. Eddie watched her unapologetically play roughly with one of the kids, looking like he's always been that helplessly in love with her, completely forgetting he's still, technically, engaged.

That was when the murmurs started.

Nothing escapes the sharp eyes of the aunties. They wondered why a young woman like Izzy who was vibrant, beautiful, and charming had not yet settled down whereas Eddie, her best friend, is already to be married to Anne. When the perfect opportunity arrived aka when Eddie had found himself taking over the grill once again and momentarily separated from their rowdy niece, the aunties hovered like seasoned interrogators.

(Face card reference for Izzy's Aunts)

The meat wasn't the only thing getting grilled today.

"Leave my sweet boy alone." Mrs. Knight hummed towards the aunties from her seat on the table as if she was expecting the vultures to feast on the carcass that is Eddie Brock.

He looked up and found three pairs of pair of eyes sizing him up which he found so uncomfortable so lifted a piece of cooked meat using his tongs from the grill.

"Uh... would you like some stea—"

Aunt Samantha, the oldest sister of Mr. Knight, who refused to have kids of her own, touched his biceps and said, "Where is Isobel? Why isn't she helping you?"

Eddie looked around and saw that the little cousins were back to bothering their respective dads, and Izzy slipped somewhere again. Probably evading her responsibilities once more. He was internally screaming at her again for leaving him alone to deal with her dad's sisters.

"Oh please. That girl has been making Eddie do all the work." Aunt Claire scoffed, taking a sip of her martini, and continued, "I'd say you even the score, Eddie. Make her do all the dishes later."

The youngest one, Aunt Beth, with her usual no bullshit tone said, "It's not like Brock here was forced to do all that. He's been willingly suffering for her for years."

Eddie would take police interrogations and public scrunity over this any day. He was suffering and his Knight was nowhere to be found. It feels like Izzy's three split personalities has morphed into their own beings.

"The problem," Samantha began, dragging her fingers lightly down Eddie’s bicep as if that were part of the discussion, making the young man shiver inwardly, "is that you’ve ruined our dear Izzy for other men."

"Excuse me?" Eddie blinked, genuinely thrown off.

Claire sighed dramatically, swishing her drink. "It’s true. That girl hardly entertains suitors these days. And why? Because you set the bar too high, Brock."

Eddie glanced toward the house instinctively, as if Izzy was going to magically appear and take over this conversation.

Surprise surprise. She didn’t.

Beth’s gaze remained unflinching. "So tell us, Brock. What exactly did you do to our niece to make her so unimpressed by every other man?"

Eddie did not have a proper answer to that. Instead, he did what any smart man would do: he focused on the fire, flipping a steak with just enough force to pretend he wasn’t feeling the weight of their words.

"You ladies really like stirring the pot, huh?" he muttered nervously, shaking his head.

"We don’t just stir, darling. We set the whole damn kitchen on fire." Aunt Sam said.

"I'd hate to be the guy to compete with you, Eddie." The ever-competitive Aunt Claire pointed out.

Beth raised an eyebrow, watching how the young man was painfully tensed at the conversation. "They're fucking." she blatantly said without any reservations.

Every single person within earshot, all of them, including the two other aunties, Mrs. Knight, and Eddie snapped their heads towards her with their jaws slack.

"Beth!" Mrs. Knight hissed, putting her drink down at the table.

"What? It's obvious. They're having a good fuck. Right, loverboy?" Aunt beth smirked, tipping her beer bottle to cheers.

Suddenly, Eddie just wants to be buried alive right then and there considering how he just felt his soul left his body. He would happily dig up his own grave. "We're not—" he scrambled for an answer, but Claire was already waving her hands towards her sister in exasperation.

"Beth, we don’t just say those things out loud!"

Samantha, thoroughly entertained, raised her brows and tightened her grip on Eddie's arms. "I mean, she’s not wrong. That's the great thing about youth." Turning her face to look at the young man, "It's alright, honey. Fuck our niece's brains out as you please. Fuck her real good." And winked at him.

Oh dear god.

He's heard of the word fuck too much today and he doesn't expect it to come from Izzy's aunts.

When he had a moment to compose himself, he finally found his voice, throwing his tongs onto the table beside the grill. "Okay. No. That’s not what’s happening."

"I didn't peg you for a liar, Brock." Beth scoffed, not buying it.

Mrs. Knight was equally mortified as her honorary son was. She stood up from the table, walked towards the grill, taking the tongs from her son's hand and gestures him to go away and save himself.

"Sweetheart, go inside before you pass out from all this grilling." she said, trying to diffuse what's left of the situation.

Eddie sighed in relief, and muttered a quick 'thank you' before beelined straight to the kitchen. He had to gulp down a cold glass of water after that uncomfortable (understatement of the year) conversation. What the hell was that? He thought as he leaned against the kitchen counter, letting out an exhausted sigh.

He looked up when he heard footsteps coming towards the kitchen. It was Izzy. In a fresh set of clothes, and hair pulled up in a messy ponytail. She paused the moment she set her eyes on him. "Here I thought I was in hell having to scrub off some gremlin puke off me." she said, eyeing him. "You look worse. What happened?"

"Your aunts."

Eddie did not need to explain more. Izzy was caught up and laughed. He narrowed his gaze at her, annoyed as to why she's laughing at his sufferings and said, "They think I’ve set the bar so high that you refuse to settle for anyone else," he muttered, rubbing his face. "And then Beth decided to announce to the entire family that we’re screwing."

She stared at him.

Then she burst out laughing.

A full, unrestrained, gleeful laugh that Eddie could only hear whenever he suffers like her own personal entertainment. He glared at her with his arms crossed but it only made her laugh harder.

"You—" Izzy gasped, trying yet failing to recover, "you got grilled by the aunties and Beth just said that?"

"Without a doubt she did."

"And what did you do?" Izzy wiped at her eyes all watery from laughing.

"What do you think I did?" He huffed, gesturing vaguely toward the backyard. "Your mom saved me before I could die on the spot."

She looked at him at horror now. Their dirty little secret was slowly getting exposed to the people around them. Her mind was already working on possible pre-emptive strike or retaliation to troubleshoot this mess. They strategized in the kitchen like people going back to the war zone at the backyard. Her plan was simple, Eddie should settle down and eat at their own table, while Izzy brings out the big guns—her dad.

Eddie watched the scene unfold while he tries to focus on scooping the sides on his plate, and instinctly, one for Izzy as well as he watched her strut past her aunties with that signature smirk of hers, one that practically screamed 'watch this'.

"Oh what is she going to do now?" Aunt Claire said while the three of them squinted their eyes at Izzy. Her mom, on the other hand, just shook her head, already knowing what's going to happen.

Settling down their curated plates on the table, Eddie witnessed the moment she reached her dad, she had leaned in, whispered something conspiratorial into his ear, and just like that, the old man’s grip on his beer tightened. She even paused and pulled back to pout at her dad like she suffered so much in life. He can't believe her dad was even buying this. Not long after, Mr. Knight got up from the uncle's table and walked towards his sister's. His daughter, on the other hand, looked smug sitting down beside him.

He was just about to ask Izzy what did she do until he heard her dad scolding his sisters about talking nonsense and leaving his daughter alone. Again, Eddie barely had time to process the absurdity of it all when he saw Izzy happy munching on a cob of corn from his plate, feeling smug that her aunties wouldn't bother her anytime soon.

While being lectured by Mr. Knight, Samantha rolled her eyes, Claire kept justifying their grilling, and Beth was having a stare down with Izzy like she was saying she knew she was right and they could pretend all they want.

Unable to question the head of the family's final verdict, the aunties had no choice but to obey. Izzy's dad wasn’t having any of it. "I don’t wanna hear another damn word about my kid’s business," he declared, his tone final. "You women have better things to talk about."

Eddie, still stunned by the efficiency of Izzy’s maneuver, slowly turned his head toward her. "You just—" Eddie gestured vaguely toward her father, who had successfully shut down the grilling session. "That's cheating, Knight."

Izzy shrugged, already halfway through the ribs on her plate and licking some sauce off her thumb. "It’s called strategy, Brock. As if they didn't expect what's coming. You should know."

Yeah. He should've known.

That's how Eddie survived this year's chaotic barbecue.

-

After the Knightmares had gone home, Eddie was left to do all the grunt work again. Izzy may be just inside the vicinity of the mansion but she does escape a lot. Mrs. Knight was carefully placing back her treasured pieces of plates to its designated closet while Mr. Knight was already snoring his usual armchair in the living room. Eddie finally found her outside, leaning against the porch railing, a cigar between her fingers.

He paused, watching her for a beat, before stepping up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to the back of her head.

"You smoking now?" he muttered against her hair, eyebrows furrowing as she blew a slow stream of smoke to the side.

She tilted her head, giving him a lazy grin. "Beth gave it to me before she left. Told me it was the best vice there is."

Eddie pressed his chin against her shoulder, watching the way the smoke curled into the air. "And?"

"I don’t think so."

She turned in his hold, facing him now. He glanced over his shoulder instinctively, scanning the doorway, checking for any sign of movement inside the house. They had managed to evade scrutiny for now, but after the day they had? He wasn’t ready to risk another round of grilling.

"You ever tried anything else?" he asked, studying her. "Any vices I don’t know about?"

Izzy hummed, exhaling the last of the smoke, flicking the cigar onto the steps before pressing closer against him.

"I don’t need another one," she murmured, a slow smile curling at the edges of her lips as he raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain. She reached up, brushing her fingers along his jaw. "I’ve already got the best one," she whispered.

"You."

And then she kissed him.

Eddie barely had time to process it before his hands found their place on her waist, pulling her closer, the weight of the day dissolving into the press of her lips. He didn’t know how long they stood there, wrapped up in each other, only that time had slowed enough to make it impossible to care.

Izzy’s hands had found their way into his hair, pulling him closer, demanding for more. He had one arm curled around her waist, the other braced against the railing, keeping her stable. Her lips tasted like beer and faint cigar smoke, but she, herself, was intoxicating enough.

He thought about the years he spent pretending this was just another fleeting moment for them.

He also thought about every line they had drawn between them including every excuse, dismissal, and half-hearted attempt to pretend this didn’t mean something. All of that felt like it had been obliterated the second her lips touched his.

Right now, all he knew was that the woman he loved was in his arms, pulled close against him, her hands in his hair, both of them melting into each other.

Then it slipped from her mouth.

Between kisses and breaths, she said,

"Hmm.. I love you.."

It felt like a giant boulder had crushed them. Both of them halted in their kiss, their lips still brushing against each other, his hands tightening instinctively on her waist. Izzy stilled too, eyes fluttering open just slightly, because she hadn’t even meant to say it, but her damn feelings were all over the place and she can barely hold it together.

She didn’t move away. Instead, she lingered, staring at him through half-lidded eyes. His eyes slowly creased with a smirk forming in his lips. Izzy knew he was about to be a pompous ass any second now.

"You wanna say that again, Knight?"

She deadpanned him. "No. That's all you get."

He stole a quick peck, caging her. "Come on baby." Another kiss on her cheek. "Say it again." Then another one on her other cheek. "I said it twice."

Izzy squinted at him, pretending to look bored, but Eddie saw the way her lips twitched and how she was trying way too hard not to smile. Because she definitely loves the hell out of him.

"You're not going to budge? Fine. I'll kiss you again until I hear it." Eddie grinned, leaning into her and capturing her lips once more for a deep kiss. Izzy let out a muffled laugh against his lips, shaking her head, thinking about how silly they both are.

If this was going to be her everyday, she would die happily with crows feet on the outer corner of her eyes.

"Fine.. mmm.. i love you, Eddie." she muttered between kisses, but she wasn’t stopping him.

He smirked against her mouth. "Good girl."

Izzy groaned dramatically, tilting her head back completely annoyed at his answer, only for Eddie to take full advantage and pepper another kiss along her jaw and neck. They seem to forgot that they were on a public space. On the Mansion's front porch which was accessible to anyone still awake. Oh they did forget until...

GASP.

They both quickly turned to see her mom standing a feet away from them. Her hands covering her mouth, eyes wide in shock. Her daughter was wrapped around the arms of her supposed 'son' and his lips were on her neck. This was definitely NOT a sibling dynamic.

But Eddie was on cloud nine. He didn't care. Fully drunk on Izzy's magical words. He turned casually, arms still wrapped around her daughter and with zero shame in his expression, and said,

"Oh, hey, Mrs. Knight! Your daughter just confessed that she loves me."

Izzy jerked her head toward him immediately, horrified.

"You IDIOT!" she hissed, smacking his arm.

Boy, Eddie did not care since he was still riding the high of what had just happened, failing to recognize that he had just signed his own death warrant.

Mrs. Knight pointed at them both voice sharp. "Inside! Now!"

And they both straightened up and walked inside the living room where the even bigger gun was snoring. While walking inside, Eddie chuckled and said, "Guess the secret’s out, huh?"

Izzy glared at him, fully ready to strangle him, before groaning as she dragged a hand down her face. She wasn't planning on coming out to her parents today. She could barely process her own feelings.

For a good five minutes, they sat there. In a couch near the armchair where her dad was peacefully sleeping. Her mom paced in front of them, her mind boggled with all the questions and the fact that her sister-in-laws were right. Sensing the tension, Eddie the menace, has decided to speak up first.

"Mrs. Knight," he started, attempting to charm the older woman, "before you say anything—"

"Oh, I’m gonna say a lot, Eddie Brock," she snapped. She was on full name basis now. "Starting with how long has this been going on?!"

Her daughter groaned, throwing her back to sink on the couch, rubbing her temples like she was about to endure the worst lecture of her life while covering her face with a throw pillow. She refuses to meet her mom's eyes.

While Eddie was enjoying every second of it.

"Depends on what you mean by ‘this.’ If you mean the actual confession, that happened, oh, about five minutes ago."

Making Izzy smack his head using the throw pillow she's been using to shield her face.

Mrs. Knight was not amused, and narrowed her eyes on them. "And before that?"

Izzy was silently praying to every known god that Eddie would be smart enough to lie. Please let him have functioning brain just for this second. Please God. Please.

"Oh, years."

"EDDIE!" Izzy yelled and launched the pillow at his face.

Oh my. Beth was right.

"You mean to tell me," her mom muttered, voice dangerously calm, "that I have been living with this under my roof?"

"If it helps, Mrs. Knight, you’ve been an excellent mother-in-law this whole time."

The older woman was too stunned to speak, just looking at them like they had the audacity to be this calm. Meanwhile, Isobel just wanted to throw herself out of the window when her dad stirred on his chair, awakened by the noise around him.

Good fucking luck, Eddie Brock.

He was still alive. But it was 2AM and Eddie Brock was driving back to his apartment using Mr. Knight's pick up truck.

The old man's terms were simple. He is not about to stay there and continue their affair, not until he settles everything with Anne because the former military man refuses to have his one and only beloved daughter become a professional mistress. By all means, he had to do it right.

And that also means, properly ending things with his Anne. The woman he also loved.

Eddie halted the truck on his usual parking space just infront of their apartment building. He looked up the windows and saw that the lights were off. She was probably asleep. It was the third night since she invited Carl over, and the place has never felt more distant to his heart. He lived here for years, yet for some reason, it felt like it wasn't his home anymore.

Before he drove there, he finally checked her messages. Anne sent a lot. From guilty, longing, begging, to disbelief, anger, disgust, curses, all range of emotions he would considered as valid. He did cheat on her. That was a piece of history he could never change. Until he saw her last message that she sent a couple of hours before he came back to their apartment—Anne sent his father away and wanting him to come home so they could talk. Properly.

He used his keys to enter their shared space. It was clean, though some of his father's empty beer bottles have been evidently piled around the trash bin, it did not look like Anne messed up the place. His legs moved to check their bedroom, there she was just as he predicted, sleeping.

Choosing her, stopping his affair with his best friend, and just proceeding with his life like nothing happened was surely the easy way out.

But easy does not necessarily mean happy.

He could've married her in a couple of months since all wedding preparations have been settled and paid for. The invitations were already sent months ago. Catering, flowers, cake, his tuxedo, her wedding dress, the wedding rings—all are ready to go. Stable and convenient. Eddie imagined it all happening and in every scenario, it ends up with him being miserable and longing for the same person he'd always wanted his entire life.

"Annie." He brushed his hands softly along her arms, waking her up.

Her eyes squinted, seeing his blurry figure at first. Blinking a few more times later, she realized her fiancé was there. In the flesh. Standing beside their bed.

"You're home." she faintly called out, smiling.

"No, Annie." he gently shook his head, returning the faint smile. "I'm here to make things right... and apologize."

Eddie did love her. He made that clear when they started talking like proper adults in their dining table over a cup of coffee. Neither of them would be sleeping anytime soon anyway and this conversation has been long overdue. Anne was a smart woman. A lawyer.

She already knew she lost this case.

Still, that did not stop her from asking all the questions that has been running through her mind. Was the problem her? Was it something she did that pushed him to cheat? Was he ever truly there? And he answered that straight up. He did not try to defend himself nor justify what he did.

"I love her, Annie. The biggest mistake I have ever done was not to fight for it. Dragged you into this mess when I knew she was still lingering somewhere in my mind." Eddie said, not looking at her. "I know what I did what unforgivable. I don't expect anything from you. I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry I hurt you."

Anne knew that for the first time in months, Eddie Brock was being honest with her. But that does not change the fact that her heart is shattered into pieces she had no idea how to rebuild. She was made a fool by the man she loved and she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with.

Honesty was the least that he could do for ruining everything between them.

She made sure he knew how deeply it hurt her. How she sleeps every night dreaming that things were finally okay between them. How she dreams of marrying him and waking up with a sharp stabbing pain in her chest. How she dreamt that the reality she was in was just a nightmare she just woke up in.

How the existence of Isobel Knight had put her intro shreds.

"Do you know what’s worse than catching you in a lie, Eddie?" she muttered coldly. "Whenever I close my eyes, I will always remember how you lived in it. I would remember how you stood next to me every day like you weren’t thinking about someone else the second I looked away."

Anne finally stood.

"Tell me honestly," she muttered, crossing her arms, standing right in front of him, "was it ever going to be me, Eddie?"

Eddie looked up to her with his jaw tight, his pulse thrumming at her question. She shook her head and scoffed, watching him fail to answer immediately.

"Give me the truth, Eddie. Everything is broken anyway."

He exhaled hard, swallowed, and said,

"No."

Anne nodded in defeat, pursing her lips as she held back her tears but failed anyway. She cried. And that was the moment Eddie felt every ounce of her heartbreak, because for all the time he had spent pretending, for all the months of carefully balancing the lie, it all came down to this.

It was done.

"That’s all I needed to hear." she said, wiping her tears away.

When Eddie left that night, Izzy had a long talk with her parents. It was not your typical "who's the lucky man our daughter had chosen?" conversation since they knew the guy she loved.

For the hundredth time, they raised him.

Skipping all the getting to know part and whether or not they liked the man, and straight to "Are you serious?" , "Have you two lost your goddamn minds?!" , "When are you planning to tell us?" , "Did you realize that he was in a committed relationship before you started another one of your madness, Isobel?!".

Her parents rarely yelled nor scolded her despite the well-known fact that she's an instigator. They brushed it off sometimes as her being bored as an only child, or being raised too comfortably that's why she had to seek out trouble. However, this wasn't a mere prank on someone like egging their windshields or wrapping their house in toilet paper... Their daughter whom they loved so much was a mistress. What Izzy did not realize until then was how it broke both of her parent's heart to know she did such an awful thing.

And Izzy apologized. Climbed on her parent's bed and hugged the both of them, sobbing her heart out. Not just play pouting to get her way, but a genuine cry. Feeling sorry for disappointing them because of her choices, but she made it clear that she truly loves Eddie. She loved him so much and hoped that they would see past what they did, stating that more than anyone else, she only needed their approval.

Of course, Mr. Knight was the first one to say yes. He only wanted his little girl to be happy, and Eddie makes her more than just that. Her mom followed, saying she was honestly starting to worry when her aunties expressed how her daughter can barely maintain a guy. As any mothers would think, she worried that when the time comes that they are no longer in this world, she'd have no one.

Despite her mom's initial reaction, she was relieved that Eddie would always take care of her daughter.

Izzy's parents saw them grow up together, cry together, fight each other, study, play, laugh, make jokes, be each other's confidante, and love each other in a way that's pure and burning brightly.

Not long after, they heard the familiar hum of her dad's truck from the driveway as he pulled up in front of the mansion. Eddie killed the engine, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he stepped out of the truck. All of his things were stuffed at the back. His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, but there was a quiet determination in the way he stepped forward.

The front door creaked open before he even had the chance to be near it. Izzy ran from her parents' room and stepped out, her messy hair tied back with exhaustion evident under her eyes but it was nothing to the breathless relief that washed over her face when she saw him a few steps down.

“Hey, Knight,” he said. “Can I crash here tonight? If you’ll take me.”

This dumbass.

She just let out an incredulous laugh, tears forming in her eyes as she shook her head. Then, without warning, she bolted down the steps toward him in her bare feet.

“Idiot,” she murmured through a chuckle as she threw herself into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist like they had countless times before. Eddie stumbled slightly but caught her with ease, his arms anchoring her against him, naturally kissing her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and the familiar warmth of her body against his felt like home.

Eddie Brock.

Izzy cupped his face with her hands, her thumbs brushing the rough stubble on his jaw. She looked at him like he was the only person in the world. Then, she leaned in and kissed him deeply. Eddie responded instantly, his hand lifted her up higher as he held her closer.

This was it.

They're not just best friends anymore.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads pressed together, Izzy couldn’t help the mischievous smile that curved her lips. “Sorry, Brock. The house is full tonight.”

Eddie arched an eyebrow, his smile mirroring hers. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because,” she said, her voice dropping to a playful whisper as she leaned in, “some idiot just happened to finally use his brain, and he’ll be staying there.”

He let out a surprised laugh, his grin spreading wide as he shook his head. “Sounds like a pain in the ass.”

“Oh, buddy. You have no idea,” Izzy teased and kissed him again.

Unbeknownst to them, her parents stood by their bedroom window upstairs, watching the scene unfold. Her dad muttered something about not wanting to see that, while her mom swatted his arm, a knowing smile on her face. “Let them be,” she whispered. “It’s been a long time coming.”

A/N: YOU STILL THERE? YOU HAPPY NOW? 😭 cuz I am and idk if its bc they finally said it after fucking 100x or its because the next chapter wraps it all up. 😭 my messages are open for questions and everything under the sun. I seriously don't want to let go of them but every beginning has its end. Can't make a slow burn material with regards to the fucking but emotionally, it was a very very long ride. 😂 Let's see our babies in a short 3-part (here we go again with the false promises, then it becomes more 🙈) prequel (or bits of sequel) of DWAH soon! 😩❤️ my heart is so full. THANK YOU ALL!

[lesbians4connorrhodes]

I just read the homelander fic…holy moly that was scrumptious— but will there be a sequel or Mayhaps a prequel from the elevator? 👀

anon.. your wish is my command ;))

want to know what happened in that elevator? here you go.

OG work can be found here! 1.5k words. warning for smut, typical NSFW-ness. public sex, homelander eating pussy like a champ. enjoy.

take a bite

You know you’re in trouble.

Oh, definitely. 

It all started in some team meeting for The Seven. You’ve barely been on the team for three weeks, god, you haven’t even debuted yet, and you’re already running your mouth. You’d simply suggested about adding more diversity to the team, to which you were met with silence. Not even A-train or Queen Maeve backed you up. And in a desperate attempt to save yourself, you resorted to using your powers– on Homelander. It was simple; just altered his thoughts to agree with you. Whilst it had worked, and the look on his face had been priceless as he realised what was happening, it hadn’t gone exactly to plan. The lashing out you had received minutes after was.. rough.

And now you’re here, stuck in an elevator with none other than Homelander himself. Every now and then, you glance at him out of the corner of your eye– he’s like a god, carved from marble, made from only the finest materials. It's hard to keep your eyes off him. 

You can’t read what’s on his mind, at least, not right now, so you instead stay quiet, focusing on the doors in front of you, hoping that they will open and spit you out. 

They never do.

Before you can say anything, Homelander’s pressing the emergency stop button, trapping you in there with him. Panic begins to set in, and all you can think about is how you’re going to die in here.

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask, turning to face him. His expression is unchanging, as stoic as ever. Reading his thoughts, or even altering them, doesn’t seem like a good idea now. 

“We’re going to talk.” He simply replies, as if that explains everything.

You can barely breathe. “You stopped the elevator?” 

“Well, I can’t risk opening the doors and letting you disappear off into the night, can I?” He’s a little too pleased with himself. Proud that he’s caught you. Practically gloating.

For a second, you do it. You can’t help yourself. Whether it’s out of fear you’re going to die, or.. whatever, you alter his thoughts. You hate me.

However, Homelander smirks and leans in, just close enough for you to feel his breath. “No, I don’t.”

You’re going to die right here in a metal box. With your dignity in ruins and the man of your dumb, desperate daydreams giving you that look.

But you don’t stop him.

“Your abilities are.. interesting,” He muses. A gloved hand makes its way up to your face, cupping your cheek. “It wouldn’t be surprising if you’re constantly changing my mind for me. There’s been requests from the higher-ups that I get rid of you, but I’ve been looking for excuses just to be near you.”

It feels like your heart might burst from your chest, the way it beats so fast, leave you a mess on the floor of the elevator.

“I’ve bought every shampoo that America offers, hoping to find the one you use,” He confesses, almost hubristic, almost proud. “Because you smell so fucking good. It’s been driving me crazy.”

“Homelander..” You trail off. You don’t know what to make of this confession.

“God, you make me feel special, seen. Not like the way the public sees me,” He moves in closer, your faces inches apart. His eyes are scanning yours, looking for something, anything, to tell him you feel the same way. “All those meetings..”

And then his mouth is on yours.

Hot. Messy. Desperate.

You gasp into it, and he swallows it whole, groaning as he presses harder, hands sliding down to your thighs as he grabs one and hitches it up around his waist. You cling to his shoulders, lips parted as he positions himself between your legs, guiding you up until your ass is perched on the elevator’s handrail bar.

“Tell me,” Homelander demands, his grip on you so tight that you could snap in half. “Tell me this is what you want.” When you don’t answer, he slams your head back against the wall, 

“I– I want you.”

“That’s fucking right.” He pulls away from your neck, smiling hungrily. His hand slides along your thigh, fingertips brushing the curves of you waist, the edges of your Supe-suit. Thank the gods that they gave you something that can only be considered swimwear. His mouth is soon back on your skin, kissing your collarbones, his breath hot against you. His hands settle on your knees, then slowly, he spreads them.

“Homelan–” Your voice is barely more than a whisper, a tremble of anticipation and disbelief.

He doesn’t answer your pleas. He drops to his knees.

In the elevator. In the fucking elevator.

You almost orgasm on the spot, his lips swollen and slick with saliva, pupils blown, the slight smudge of your lipstick on his chin. His hands slide up the back of your calves, kneading into the flesh like he’s savouring the shape of you. 

Your hands clench to the railing behind you, clutching tight.

“You have no idea,” He groans. “How long I’ve thought about destroying you.”

His eyes flicker up to yours, dark with something dangerous. Devotion, desire, something molten and drowning. His mouth moves higher.

Another kiss– wait. No. Homelander’s teeth sink into your flesh, as if he were biting a peach, and you bite your lip, stifling a cry. He does it again, slow and lingering, and before you can actually cry this time, his fingers swiftly rip your suit wide open, exposing you to him.

You can hear him chuckle lowly– you’re not wearing any underwear. His nose brushing against you, his hands keep your legs spread, despite the urge to close them.

“Fucking classy,” Homelander muses as you whimper. “Just another slut, aren’t you?”

He’s relentless. You can’t hold back the cry this time, one hair grabbing his perfectly styled hair, entangled as his tongue licks you with precision, with hunger, with something close to worship. He’s devouring you as if he’s a starved animal, desperate for your carcass. Slow circles, then quick flicks, his mouth dragging across your clit with a maddening rhythm. You writhe against the rail, your leg still wrapped around his shoulder, the other trembling against the elevator wall.

“Oh– god–” Your words are becoming incoherent. As if your brain is being fucked stupid– you can hear his own words in the back of your mind, taunting, teasing. He groans against you, the vibration shooting straight through your core. One of his arms snakes around your thigh, pinning you in place. You’re trapped; there’s no way to escape him.

His tongue slides down, dipping into you, then back up, his mouth latching onto your clit with a filthy, wet sound that makes your spine arch. You’re unravelling fast, and you don’t know how long you can hold on for.

Homelander’s mouth is merciless, barely giving you a chance to plead. At this point, you may as well plead for your life. His hold on your thighs is unrelenting, the bruises already showing, mouth working you like a man possessed.

As you let out another moan, you’ve given up on holding them back, Homelander’s hand flies blindly at the switchboard on the wall, fist crashing against it until it hits the emergency button. Fuck. Guess this is coming to an end then.

However, he doesn’t let up. He groans softly with wicked glee, his mouth still very much between your legs. The sound vibrates against the most sinful part of you. Mouth and hands working with infuriating, diabolical precision, like he’d just taken the button as a challenge.

You feel like you’ve been dipped in ice. Any minute now, the doors could open, and everyone will see you, a shivering, whining mess, with Homelander buried between your legs. It’s shameful, you realise, as another wave of pleasure threatens to knock the air from your lungs. You’re barely holding it together, every nerve ending aflame, skin flushed, thighs shaking.

You don’t really want your teammates, and other coworkers, to see you like this, but there’s no way in hell you can’t get through to Homelander right now. This was his plan all along– break you down, destroy you, just to embarrass you. All because or a simple stunt you pulled.

And then you shatter.

It hits hard, hot and blinding. You can’t help but to cry out, like a wounded animal, thighs clamping tight around his head as he groans against you, mouth not stopping for a second, drawing it out, milking every twitch, every whimper. You feel like you can’t breathe, let alone moan, your hands flying to steady yourself just as the elevator dings cheerily and the doors slid open.

Thankfully, there’s nobody standing there, ready to reprimand you for such lewd behaviour– you’d be the one to get yelled at, not Homelander, the most powerful (and feared) man in the world. As you recover, your senses returning, you realise you’re in front of the meeting room. 

“I think we need to discuss your behaviour further, don’t you agree?” He mutters into your ear, low and gravelly.

You nod quickly and wordlessly.

Homelander guides you with all the smugness of a man who has no regrets into the meeting room, the desk as bare as ever, his hand just a little too low on your back to be innocent. The doors slide shut behind you.

gif cred; @/ladyalatariel

divider cred; @/cafekitsune

[cemetary-shifts]

"i hate marc spector" okay? should we all clap? throw a party??? invite jeremy slater?????

[egophiliac]

A-anime?

you know, sometimes I forget that Twst is actually an isekai that starts with the protagonist getting run over by an inexplicable horse-drawn carriage. and every time I'm reminded is a delight because that's AMAZING.

also. look. okay. there's a lot of very fun stuff in the trailer but I am obsessed with that Crowley surprised pikachu face. me when I spend all my keys and gems literally hours before they announce overblot SSRs and drop the anime trailer:

[vaguely-concerned]

thinking about not only the specific people lucanis pulls in to represent the 'locks' in his psyche, but the storytelling that happens in the structure/order of them. the underlying ideas are presented something like:

the lucanis who went into the ossuary never came back out again; he died down there (the boy caterina raised is gone forever) -> you're putting yourself in danger doing this (by being close to me), you should leave because I can't bear it if you get hurt because of me -> it doesn't matter even if we do try this, it won't work anyway (again because of me) ('you know what he's like, you can open the door but he won't walk through it' :'( oofie doofie) -> what if the real secret is that there was never anything but the monster in here from the beginning. you should leave, there was never anything here worth saving in the first place. (implicitly: what if I deserved what happened, all along.)

it runs pretty cleanly from outward-oriented attachment anxiety ('caterina won't even want me back like this, she won't recognize me (the same way I no longer recognize myself)) and gradually deeper inwards until we reach self-image and self worth. or you know, the harrowing basic lack of it lol.

"careful -- they'll know we're not right," spite says in one of their first scenes... but clearly, some very deep part of lucanis has feared or suspected for much longer than that that there's something inherently not right at the core of him, way before any demon entered the picture. and the voice he gives those lines to is the person who should know him better than anyone in the world, who he has loved more than anyone in the world -- and who deliberately chose to hurt him so horrifically anyway. 'It's better if I'm just a monster and deserved what happened than it is to allow for the idea that the brother I love doesn't really exist and maybe never did'. it's better if he's fundamentally flawed in some way that needed fixing to help him survive, and that's why caterina chose to hurt him again and again -- out of love. (this one I think he might have a very sad wakeup call on one day if he ever ends up with the responsibility and care of a child of his own in some way and realizes just how alien the idea of ever intentionally hurting them for any reason is to him. oh buddy. also interesting that he keeps caterina as the outermost lock -- there IS a distance he keeps there that he hasn't with illario. he doesn't resent her 'anymore' he says, but he also keeps her carefully further away from his deepest self.)

as far as I could tell the only note in the mind prison that's fully hidden and needs to be uncovered is the sad painful helpless stupid little truth that even after all this, even knowing what happened... he still loves his brother. is there anything illario could ever do that would make lucanis completely stop loving him, do you think? sometimes the trouble with unconditional love is that it is, well. unconditional, even when some terms and conditions probably would have been in order haha.

that's the pattern you see there again and again; he would rather destroy and abandon and imprison himself at every turn than let go of love, even when it's just scraps, even when there's only ever enough of it to hurt him. it's only when rook shows up and as it were takes his hand and walks along with him that he can entertain the idea of changing the story of what walking out the door might mean in the end.

[teddybeartoji]

i cleaned my room i changed my sheets i took a shower i am a normal human person now everybody cheers

[saintvainglorious]

Fics I Enjoyed in January - DC Comics Fic Rec List Part 2

I am still neck-deep in DC fandom this month and the fics have been so so good. Unlike last time, I am too tired to write mini summaries/reviews, so I'm going to feature my favorite quote from each fic instead.

My first DC Comics fic rec list is here!

Floor Plans by @oh-mother-of-darkness (Teen & Up, 1k, 2016) “I really didn’t want to die,” he finished. “I was kind of hoping if I laid here long enough, I would remember what that felt like.”

Losing two brothers in six months takes an emotional toll.

almost right by @bitimdrake (Teen & Up, 3k, 2020) He desperately wishes that he didn’t know what Dick’s cheekbone feels like under a gauntleted fist.

Bruce sucks in a breath, hand raising to fix the cowl. Dick flinches back.

but more with love by @danishsweethearts (Teen & Up, 3k, 2022) Dick wakes up one morning, groggy from a dream that he thinks might’ve been about the circus and also about his favourite car and also about how lonely he is, and realizes that he can’t remember what his mother’s voice sounds like anymore.

O Robin, Robin, wherefore art thou Robin?

The Mechanics of a Hug by @sohotthateveryonedied (General Audiences, 4k, 2017) “You know… that crushing sense of depression? Like,” Dick chews his lip. “It’s. A physical weight. Makes it hard to breathe?” “Yeah,” Tim says, soft. He smiles, wryly. “I sort of hoped you didn’t, though.”

“So,” Tim ventures. “It's… what, a cuddle pollen?” Bruce just shrugs. “Something like that.”

No Pain, All Gain by @sohotthateveryonedied (General Audiences, 1k, 2020) Tim’s eyes go even wider. “You stole my organs?” “Technically,” Jason chimes in, “the doctors stole your organs. We just gave them permission.”

Bruce checks Tim’s IV. “Are you in any pain? Do you need more morphine?” Tim’s pupils are so wide that only the faintest ring of blue can be seen. He watches Bruce the way a five-year-old watches cartoons. “I’m all good, B-dog. All Gucci, like we cool teens say." His words are slurred almost beyond recognition, but Tim doesn’t seem to notice or care. "I could fight Superman right now.”

The Wind Sits in the Shoulder of Your Sail by @birdchildsnest (Teen & Up, 7k, 2020) “Oh my god. Bruce. I can’t even tell if you’re serious. When everybody finally eats the rich—they’re going to eat you first.”

At least, back then, Tim had barely been a teenager. He could almost forgive his own volatility. And he’d been smart enough (scared enough?) not to tell Jack that he didn’t need him. What was his excuse now? Bruce was his dad (at least, in the legal sense), but (surprise, surprise) it turned out that Tim wasn’t any better at being a son. Or Tim and Bruce still have some things to sort through after the adoption.

I Left My Conscience On Your Front Doorstep by @dustorange (Teen & Up, 21k, 2022) He doesn’t want to be loved if being loved is like this.

"I think I'm leaving," Dick whispers. "I think I'm not coming back."

bad boys bad boys (whatcha gonna do) ♫ by @drakefeathers (Teen & Up, 20k, 2014) "They live their lives thinking they can charge through the city with the right to hurt and kill and destroy as many lives as they want. And they do it all without a shred of remorse." “But—” Damian begins, brow furrowed in confusion. “Isn’t that like you?”

a Jason and Damian as Batman and Robin AU!! featuring a bunch of graffiti, a rival dynamic duo, and Cat Jason (a cat named Jason).

The Biggest Mistake by @oh-mother-of-darkness (General Audiences, 1k, 2016) “I could ground him anyway, if it would make you feel better.” “He only said it because I called him ‘a garbage can so ineffective it actually became garbage.’”

"You know what really needs to be addressed? Bruce's truly terrible treatment of Damian." -Me, on a daily basis

been a number and a name by @wynterstars (Teen & Up, 35k, 2023) “Turns out if you just say ‘spacetime’ until people’s eyes glaze over they don’t really question anything you say. Also, somehow nobody expects me to be able to actually do enough math to explain it.”

On a field trip, Robin has a close encounter with the newest super in Metropolis, only to discover the hard way that Superboy secretly works for Lex Luthor. They agree to work together on a plan to free Superboy from Luthor’s hold, but Robin isn’t sure how far he can trust him—and his developing feelings only make things more complicated.

clean it like you mean it by @wynterstars (Teen & Up, 70k, 2024) "Wait, ugh, you're not my dead dad, right? If I'm getting a dying vision of my dead dad I want a do-over because he suuuuucked."

When Gotham's crooks have to scrub down their lairs, who do they call? Jason Todd, Gotham's first and only underworld crime scene cleaning specialist. He's spent his life dodging the Bat, but after a chance encounter he saves Robin's life. Tim Drake finds himself drawn to the conflicted rogue, and soon Jason becomes Robin's street informant. But they can only stay on opposite sides of the law for so long before something breaks.

3:16 by @wufflesvetinari (Teen & Up, 70k (WIP), 2023) “Try to decouple one thing from the other. I’m proud of you, but ice cream isn’t my grand statement about whether you’ve been good or bad today. Good things are good. Happiness is precious. Sometimes you just want caramel chocolate chip.”

The knife pushes thin along Dick’s carotid artery, cupping the indent between neck and jawline—forcing him to angle his chin. The metal is warm, pulled with execution speed from under Damian’s pillow. “Okay,” Dick says quietly, tracking the intricacies of his own heartbeat—counting the space between breaths. “Guess I did need a shave.” (With faltering steps, Dick and Damian become Batman and Robin.)

wolf-king of rome by @mysterycitrus (Not Rated, 25k, 2024) “You go after Joker, but you don’t kill him, because it’s not about the Joker dying, it’s about Bruce breaking his code for you. It’s about Bruce loving you enough to change himself for the worse. It’s about your idea of grieving.”

Jason doesn’t fear Dick Grayson. Fear itself has changed shape for him, since his return from the Pit - it tastes of dirt in his mouth, of drowning, of fire and blood and laughter, more than a tangible face. Still, he’d be stupid not to be cautious. Dick liked playing on an uneven field, and would do anything to keep him off balance, so he just had to stay focused. That’s the nature of the armistice, both waiting for the other to make a move. It’s like balancing on the head of a pin.

Declensions by @dustorange (Teen & Up, 13k, 2018) “Do not tell them your name. Do as I did to survive. I lied. I have always lied. Make one up. Do not let them have you. Say your name is…is…is…Richard Grayson. Or something. They are going to steal you; do not give them anything to steal.”

“My father,” Dick says, “worked the rope. It cut him. His hands were never clean.”

Passiontide by @bigdvmnhero (Teen & Up, 5k, 2025) Despite its faults, the day had tried to be good. He felt young, like someone's son.

On the 96th day Bruce didn't call, Dick remembered their old game. Three things he knew: 1) In three months, it would be Dick's death anniversary; 2) Bruce was still missing his check-ins; 3) Here Dick was, persisting. Imagine the things I'd survive, Dick thought distantly, if I loved Bruce less. Or: Agent 37 and his various crises of faith, on Day 277 at Spyral, Day 150, and Day -0.

the time you won your town the race by @silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 4k (WIP), 2022) Tim. Tim is Dick’s. Death sharpens, clarifies these things. Who will receive the body, decide on the funeral, receive condolences, make all the decisions that matter. No one has questioned it, not even Tim’s friends. There’s a terrible clarity about death. If Dick said, let’s burn everything he owned, Alfred would do it.

He doesn’t know exactly what Tim would say. But he knows what Tim would do. Tim dies. Dick doesn’t take death for an answer. A Red Robin 12 AU.

door, opening by @cowboysorceror (Mature, 70k (WIP), 2024) Dick, with the keys to every locked door Jason has ever tried to open, tucked inside the cradle of his skull; all of that, snuffed out like a candle.

It’s barely audible, but he knows what he heard. A short, four-note whistle, chirping down – E, C#, then jumping up to A, F#, a little trill on the finish. He waits a moment, head turned slightly towards the dim shapes of storage containers between him and the ramp, eyes straining against the blackness. Long, stretching seconds. There it is again. His gloved hand, prickling with cold, closes into a fist. It’s a wood thrush. A small North American songbird that doesn’t sing at night, doesn’t live in the city. He knows what it means. It means hold, steady, not yet. It means wait for me, I’m behind you.

[inseparabiles]

#highkey envy everybody in the tags#who gets asks like 'please write piss kink yesterday'#where the fuck are you getting your freaks from#high society life has made me so prim and proper#got my pinky up when I drink my fucking tea

would you like write smut like that? is that why you haven't because you don't get asks like that and you would if you did? asking for a friend

It's genuinely. Like don't get me wrong we do like writing our genfic, we do love our all of that that we're doing anyway and people seem to like reading, but it's like

I guess it's been oddly branding? And I don't know if it's that people now take that brand as a "well you wouldn't do this thing and asking it of you would be weird and I'm going to respect your implicit boundaries by not doing it" or if it's more like "we, the audience that you have, want this specific thing that you're already writing and when you part from it it's HIGHKEY WEIRD and OFFPUTTING" or a mix of both but

would we like to get the kind of unhinged requests that we're seeing all over the tags? Get slapped in the face with an ask that's just so out there? Write explicit for the sake of explicit without having to find a better excuse for it? Yes. God. Yes. We would.

[mamawasatesttube]

i need to get a copy of the robin '93 omnibus (you know. the giant hardcover brick) so that i can start beating people with it whenever they bring up fanon tim near me

[just-null]

i have come here to personally thank you for giving me more than i asked for 🙏🏻 i am utterly grateful like IDJFKDKKFODOD 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ it made me so happy the last doodle has my heart he is so cute i will eat him

also there is a DROUGHT out there for us noritoshi fans like im living on CRUMBS its insane and omg dont even talk to me abt how it feels like to be a kashimo and ino lover (altho they are getting a bit more love now) my nori is still underrated :/ sooo hence im asking ur hand in friendship and in exchange i promise to share my hcs with you abt nori my sweet lil meow meow we're in this together 💪🏻💪🏻

also since its October, do you think he likes horror movies? i feel like he can withstand gory movies but its the jumpscares that get him and he wont tell u he's scared when u watch one with jumpscares owkfkdkd imagine him hiding his face against ur shoulder or something 😭😭😭 (i used to do that with my dad when we watched horror movies and i used to be like im not scared😤😤 when he asked if i was lmfao thats where this hc stemmed from)

N. NORITOSHI HIDING IN YOUR SHOULDER OR SUPPRESSING HIS REACTIONS TO THE JUMPSCARES....... WAS IT AN INVOLUNTARY REACTION TO USE YOU TO HIDE??????? WAS IT BUILT UP TRUST????? DID HE GROW USED TO HOLDING ONTO YOU WHEN HE GETS SURPRISED BECAUSE HE WANTS TO MAKE SURE HE HAS HIS VALUABLES SAFE????????? WAS IT A MOMENT WHERE HIS MIND JUST INSTINCTIVELY GRABBED THE FIRST THING HE WANTED TO PROTECT/BE PROTECTED BY???????? OH MY FUCK.

he's probably used to gore and gritty stuff like that since he sees it often being a jujutsu sorcerer and all. not to mention his technique is literally blood. maybe he's desensitized to gore films, the most you'll get from him is a disgusted scowl.

BUT DID YOU SEE HOW QUICK HIS EYE OPENED WHEN HANAMI SHOWED UP BEHIND HIM. YOURE SO FUCKING FR ABT JUMPSCARES. Noritoshi is that guy who wouldn't scream or yelp but gasp really loudly and jump out of his skin.

i feel like they get him most in horror because of the music building up anticipation. if its one of those fake outs where the jumpscare comes a bit after, he's fucked UP. It makes him instantly miffed, as he tries to regain his composure. He swears he's not usually like this, it got him by surprise is all..!

Noritoshi is the type that'd only watch a horror movie if the story is rich and complex. He's the type of guy to like open endings that make you think.. if it's a guilty pleasure movie where all the protags make stupid decisions, he gets annoyed right off the bat.

He's groaning and complaining about how imbecile the characters are, but would still watch it with you because you personally invited him. If he's lucky you could fall asleep on his shoulder or [insert movie cliche here] how could he pass that up? But Noritoshi wouldn't be able to focus on you if he gets twice as annoyed because its a bad movie + jumpscares. it still startles him, but the movie is so terrible, he's embarrassed it got him, especially in front of you!!!

if you get involved and you tell him to quiet down, Noritoshi would shift his focus towards you. like that awkward guy who thinks he's being smooth and lowkey about how he cuddles up next to you. He wants to be the tough guy who's shoulder you can hide in, and he is!! just not.. with jumpscares.......

[miharuhebinata]

you guys really weren't kidding about how fucking good lake mungo is

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

Someone liked my Bi!Wyatt Logan manifesto from eons ago and y'know what I was very sexy and intelligent for that one. but also. *glances at Eddie Diaz* I DON'T HAVE A TYPE I DON'T HAVE A TYPE I DON'T HAVE A TYPE!!!!