#and he's starting to become Not Okay with just Being Fine and there's a lot of unfinished guilt and unhealed wounds to go with that

[missycolorful]

I'm on the fence about a lot of the "glass child" discussion because where I agree with some points that are made and enjoy the in depth analysis, I've come to severely disagree with others. Mostly because the internet is the internet, and the nuanced discussion has lost that nuance.

The reason this whole thing blew up (though it's been a concern for a while, certainly) was when Phil explained why he felt he needed to save Tallulah first before Chayanne. And you could tell Philza was trending cautious waters with his wording - he never wanted to say "oh, Chayanne's a chad, he'll get over it." With his wording, he recognized that neither were necessarily fine, but he still felt it necessary to prioritize one over the other because of one of his kid's big issues: Tallulah has abandonment issues. Maybe they're not as bad now since the "official adoption," but it certainly shouldn't be disregarded. But Phil remembers how much Tallulah hates being left alone, and wanted to make sure she wasn't in that situation long. Phil knew at the of the day, that Chayanne had no severe abandonment issues (that we are aware of), hence him saying he'd be okay "a bit longer." The prioritization is still there, and the Death family still has much to talk about, but the fandom's reactions felt a bit too... harsh, a bit too severe. They'd make it sound like Phil didn't consider Chayanne's feelings at all or that he thought Chayanne was totally going to be 100% okay with being alone forever and ever. When there's more to it than that, and ultimately, Phil was stuck making a decision in a lose-lose situation, and he knew that.

But a lot of people seem to focus solely on this moment, and let it epitomize the entirety of the Death Family's relationship and struggles. When, if anything, there's additional moments from yesterday's stream alone that I think show some slow growth in Philza's parenting when it comes to him being overprotective of Tallulah and him expecting a protector/warrior out of Chayanne.

Because if Phil really thought Chayanne was a ruthless warrior who can handle anything and be fine and get over it, he'd have let Chayanne immediately join them in their journey of saving Richarlyson. Like "If we've got Chayanne with us, nothing can hold us back" or something. But he didn't. He wanted both of his children to stay back, to stay safe. But his kids insisted on joining, even if just for emotional support. And if Phil really was completely stuck in his old ways, he'd say the old "Chayanne protect your sister" when the mobs starting showing up, or hell, even before that. But that never once happens. Both of his kids fight, and he trusted that they could both handle themselves since they insisted on coming along, though you can see him check on both of his kids once or twice during the fight. If this becomes a persistent thing, it shows great growth in Phil's character when it comes to being overprotective of his daughter and having his son prioritize her safety above all else. It's become more of "keep an eye on each other," which is definitely the preferrable kind of thinking!

And again, I emphasize that singular moments should not be the sole focus of these discussion. Rather, the overall actions throughout should be talked about. And honestly, Phil made sure that a lot of his focus was divided between both of his children throughout yesterday. When Chayanne decided to stay behind while the others went to the beach event to keep an eye on an AFK Tubbo, Phil decided to "hang about with you, kid, it's alright," even when Tallulah was long gone. Like, he wasn't going to let his kid sit alone like that waiting! Or when he got the llama plushie during the treasure hunt, I'd honestly have expected him to immediately give it to Tallulah because animals=Tallulah, I guess. But he asked them both which of them would have liked it more, a genuine attempt to make sure neither felt left out in receiving the gift. Yes, these, too, are small moments, but if we wanna have a discussion about these relationships, all these moments should at least be considered, not just the negatives.

And to me, the kind of consensus to make in these scenarios is that the situation at hand is... complicated. Like, Phil's parenting is flawed, I'd be a fool to say otherwise. All parenting is inherently flawed, that's basic psychology or... just how humans work. However, through his faults, he tries everything he is able to to do best by these kids. So, with all these moments and more, it never sat right with me to say Phil neglects Chayanne. I can almost see the case for "emotional neglect" a bit more, but even then, I find some fault in that thinking. Yes, qPhil is neurodivergent af, so he doesn't get emotional context clues and needs these discussion to be upfront in his face (which I already went into depth here regarding the relationship these two have). Put simply, any "emotional neglect" Chayanne feels isn't necessarily from Phil prioritizing Tallulah, but more so where Tallulah is more open with her feelings which makes it easier for Phil to talk to her about them, Chayanne has rarely ever been someone who opens up about feelings, and when you couple that with Phil's lack of emotional intelligence, these issues clash. However, it's important to note that a while ago, Chayanne had an open dialogue with Philza about Tubbo's death and how it affected him, and Phil was responsive to it. It'd be one thing if he told Chay to get over it, but no, he was very honest and kind to Chayanne during their talk. And afterward, Phil suggested for Chayanne that, if he ever needs to talk, to have them sit at the pier outside of their house. He extended an offering to Chayanne for emotional discussions. It was a great way for both of these people who are terrible at talking about their emotions to come together and talk. It highlights how Phil is very much okay with talking to Chayanne on an emotional level, and he has, and he will continue to be. They're just... both bad at it, sadly.

Finally, I think it's important to clarify what a glass child actually is, and if it fits the current narrative. A glass child is a child who is overlooked when their sibling is facing some sort of disability that makes the parent give the sibling their full attention, and often has the glass child help out a lot. Initially, Tallulah very much needed extra care due to her "asthma" and the fact she wasn't a great fighter who could protect herself. Hence why Phil and Chayanne were so overprotective of her and put a lot of focus on her. And for the longest time, Chayanne was okay with it, because she needed that help to survive on this hellish island. It's just that over time, things changed. These characters changed.

So it's not really like that for Tallulah now, is it? Her asthma is no longer as bad (it still happens, though!), and she's gained a lot of fighting experience over time. She can hold her own in a fight. And Phil no longer keeps that much of a paranoid eye on her; i.e. again, yesterday's stream where, even when they were fighting end monsters, he never shouted for her to get away or for Chayanne to protect her. In the early days, if Tallulah was even allowed to join, he'd have her stand back and ask Chayanne to keep an eye on her. But that doesn't happen here.

So nowadays? No, I don't think Chayanne could be considered a glass child. Because those disabilities aren't as much of a hindrance for Tallulah as they used to, and Phil isn't as paranoid about them as before. I think the effects are still there, in a way, but it doesn't fit where the characters currently stand. Ultimately, I think there are several reasons as to why things are as they are even if Chayanne may not be a glass child in the present. The big one being that Phil's not entirely adapted to the changes his children have gone through.

Especially after Purgatory, his children have gone through a lot and changed in the process; Tallulah became more independent, and Chayanne kind of being tired of being a warrior and needing more emotional support. And since he wasn't there to witness that change and only saw the aftermath, I think it's a struggle for him to come to terms with them. However, that doesn't mean he's entirely set in old ways. He's trained Tallulah on PVP, and again, he's allowed her to participate in fights without being super worried. And as I mentioned, he has extended a branch for Chayanne to be more open with his feelings. These are just starts, certainly, but it means that Phil is open to adapting and helping both of his kids in any way they need. He just has to figure out what they need.

And let me be clear: I'm not disregarding the flaws in q!Phil's parenting. They exist, and Chayanne really needs to have an open discussion about how his emotional needs haven't quite been met as of recent, and Phil needs to be more open to have emotional discussions with Chayanne, even if to them, that's like pulling teeth. There's changes and improvements that need to be made. However, in talking about the negatives, it just seems like people think that's all there is. No, these flaws in Phil's parenting doesn't make him a bad parent. Because there are plenty of positives, plenty of decent growth here. There's love and respect and everything in this family. q!Phil is genuinely doing his best in a very difficult scenario: living on an island that is set on killing the eggs, and being a parent of two while basically being a single parent all while struggling with your own traumas. that's going to come with obstacles, it's inevitable, but what's also inevitable is how this family will work through them, and come out of this better than before.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Mansion walks

This is mostly just a ramble post, but I keep imagining, because it's getting warmer, that Slender has made the executive decision to start going on mansion walks with everybody. He thought that it would be better if everyone started getting out and getting fresh air more, despite complaints that they get outside enough as it is, so now every day they go on walks together as a group. Some of them handle this much better than others, but they're surviving.

BEN handles it the worst. He goes in his physical form, and while BEN does actually like getting out and walking around, he cannot handle the heat at all, so he's panting and sweaty and uncomfortable by the time they get back, and he just wants to collapse and not go out anymore. However, he still goes because as much as he won't admit it, it's fun being out there with everyone, joking around and talking while they walk. 

Jason also can't stand it. He has a visceral hatred for bugs so he doesn't like just wandering around the woods in general, but it also causes his hair to get all frizzy from the humidity, and he doesn't want to get dirty or gross at all so he spends most of the walks focusing on avoiding any mud or dirt or nature in general because he would much rather be back in the mansion in his clean, sterile environment and away from all of the grossness of the woods. He argues they should all just go to a park or something that is more open and spacious, but Slender always reminds him that it's just easier and faster to walk through the woods, rather than trying to get everyone to a park.

Jeff, Toby, and Natalie handle it the best. Jeff has always loved the outdoors since he was a kid, constantly running around outside to stay out of his shitty living situation, and Natalie was the same way. On the flip side, Toby's inability to go outside growing up has made him treasure being outside, and he prefers spending his time out there. The three of them are usually leading the group, and the most excited and boisterous to be out there running around and getting out in nature. The three of them benefit a lot mentally and physically from these walks, and it really shows in their improvements overall since the daily walks have started.

While some of them voice complaints about the situation though, all of them are showing some form of general improvement from being able to get out and be in the sun, soaking in some fresh air for a little bit every day. It gets them all closer, providing everyone a time when they're all together in the same place and able to talk and catch up with things. It allows Slender to keep his eyes on them and catch up with them as well, making sure everyone is doing okay and feeling fine. It's good team building for them, and good for their mental and physical health overall, and so the morning/evening (depending on the weather) daily walks have become a mansion staple. It probably also helps that Slender makes everyone a bunch of snacks and fresh drinks when they all get home to reward them for it. It makes him very happy to see them all getting along and being more active instead of just sitting in their rooms all day.

And, you know, it would make him even happier if you'd join them on those walks too, as would everyone else. You always liven things up, and your company would make it even better for everyone involved, so make sure you're getting out and walking too. They'll be proud of you and happy for it.

[blacklegsanjiii]

Can you imagine if the Vinsmokes gained their emotions back when Sanji saves their lives at WCI, but it kinda hits them all at once, so they become massively attached to Sanji.

21+ years of familial love for their brother smacks them in the face, only for them to find out Sanji has REALLY over protective boyfriends in ASL who monopolize Sanji all the time (this can be the gods au or just regular ASL+S)

Gods can you imagine the guilt? Not only just all that love but the guilt, shame, embarrassment, and horror at what they've done. Reiju just watching them and Ichiji asking her why she never stopped them, how often she helped Sanji after what they did? He needs to know and the answers 'i didn't want the attention ' and 'not enough' rip through his chest like niji's lightning.

Sanji's gone, with his crew and they've only just escaped Big Mom's pirates and her prison and everything so they're not exactly primed for the real world. But without Germa and being free means they need to find their own way. So uhh, they guess first things they'll go find Zeff and thank him? And they do. Zeff and everyone is confused about the apology/thanks combo they're getting. Especially because it revolves around Sanji and Germa. Zeff is ready to kill them all but Patty says they can work for their forgiveness and puts them in the dishpit.

It's good for them, they're working through a lot of things and Zeff keeps making them push back against him verbally. They're...healing, but they need more but at least they're also developing some skills that can help them in their pursuit. Over time, maybe about a year ish later they decide to find Sanji. To go apologize, they won't ask for forgiveness, it's not something they deserve but he needs to their regret, their sorrow, their change. For them to be like him like their mother wanted. Maybe their skin is no longer metal, still extremely durable but they can be bleed.

Following the Strawhats is a challenge and Zeff warned them about it though. He gives them his lot of the Grand Line, a log post, and demands letters. They agree as Reiju stays with Zeff. As they set sail Zeff tells them to not be afraid of Sanji's boyfriends, they'll understand eventually! Which makes Niji ask the hell that means to no response. It takes a few months but they're doing fine. Mostly.

The New World is a bigger challenge than they expected but when they catch up the crew is fighting Marines and it's all an out assault from both sides. Ichiji says they should attack the Marines so they do with their powers and uhhh, is that a guy with three swords coming after them? Oh shit it's that Roronoa Zoro guy! Fuck!

Yonji is trying to calm him down while evading him. Ichiji and Niji are still focusing on actually fighting the Marines who start to retreat and the fire dives down so Luffy snaps onto their ship with a rubbery twang and pure anger and Nami, the hot chick they remember is there on a cloud. Right. Okay. They can do this!

"You broke the agreement so we're going to sink your ship!" Luffy yells at them in warning.

"We want to to apologize to Sanji." Ichiji says evenly.

"I'll see if he even wants to talk to you after what happened." Nami growls as the cloud takes her back. They get a signal to meet at the ship. Not to board, so it's kind of awkward with the height differences between the ships. Luffy and Zoro jump up onto their ship as Luffy slings an arm around Sanji with a cowboy guy who is glaring viciously at them.

"Speak your piece and get the fuck away!" Sanji yells at them.

"Were sorry! We are not owed forgiveness for anything!" Yonji starts.

"That's not an apology." The cowboy says.

"Oh, Sabo's going suuuper to love this." The robot says.

"Ah, do you want us to say? We don't know what you told them and don't want to cause more problems." Ichiji asks.

"Start with the cuffs." Luffy demands.

"Cuffs?" A few voices ask.

"Sorry we let Judge put those on you!" Ichiji says with a wince.

"Sorry for our childhoods!" Niji yells. "And electrocuting you with that plate in your back, especially. And calling you a failure after you got shot."

"Wait-" Zoro tries.

"Sorry about the dungeon?" Yonji tries which flummoxes the rest of the crew except Sanji.

"Oh my God they're going to die." Nami says.

"Zeff says you should write more, he's kind of been doing the whole push back thing he did with you? Reiju's still there." Ichiji says.

"Alright, I'll write to the fucking geezer but if I see any of you before I come back to Baratie I'm not who you have to worry about." Sanji threatens.

"Just one?" Luffy asks.

"Nah, let Sabo deal with them." Cowboy says. "Zeff is more likely to forgive him."

"Doubt that, lets get the fuck outta here, I need to start lunch." Sanji says walking away from the railing. With the crew chattering after him. When the brothers get home a few months later there's a blond guy talking with Reiju and Zeff and smiling politely with another orange haired girl beside him.

"Don't threaten them too much." Zeff warns.

"I would never sully this fine established like that." The blond says with mock offense.

"Don't sully it with blood either." Zeff stresses.

"Of course not! I'll do it elsewhere and no one will know." The blond smiles at the chef. "Bye guys!" He chirps, grabbing a pipe from the floor and leaves with the other girl who mimics slitting her throat at them with a smile as she skips out the door.

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 3 - Head in the clouds

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings for: drunk minor character, violence by a minor character to reader (she's okay!)

Thanks so much for the response to this story so far, so glad people are enjoying it. As always I appreciate reblogs and comments. Thanks! Also sorry for anything I get wrong about biker clubs/rules/rituals etc - just pretend that's how it works in this specific AU!

You’d been working at the bar for a few weeks and had just started to find your stride. You’d already whipped Tom, the blundering bartender from that first night, into shape by teaching him a few tricks of the trade. You’d even showed him how to make a couple of simple cocktails. Not that they were ordered much in a biker bar, but always good to have them in your back pocket. Sure, Tom would spill the syrup all over the bar and break at least one glass every shift…but he was trying. He was the brother of one of Bucky’s buddies and it was almost sweet the way Bucky wanted to help him out – even if it meant turning a blind eye to his often less-than-competent performance.

You’d also gotten to know more of the club and had learned about some aspects of the motorcycle club (or MC as they referred to it) and how it worked.

There was Steve of course, the no-nonsense blonde from that first night, Bucky’s righthand man. He was Vice President. Steve had been a little frosty with you initially but had warmed up and the two of you were becoming friends. You understood he was just a little protective, and that meant he was careful with outsiders and like to vet them first. He was strategic and careful, always one step ahead to ensure that the club were safe from potential threats. He didn’t always say much, but it was clear you’d know if he had a problem with you – so you settled into a quiet understanding with each other.

Bruce was the Treasurer, he was sweet and smart and easy to talk to. Sam was the Road Captain, he was amiable and easy-going, he teased you a little, but it wasn’t with any malice. You gave it right back to him, of course.

Nat, the beautiful redhead you’d seen playing darts, was the Sergeant-At-Arms, which apparently meant being the enforcer and keeping things in order. This had initially surprised you until you saw Nat in action whipping them into shape after some of them had a bit too much to drink one poker night at the bar – she was slightly terrifying, taking no shit from anyone. The whole MC respected (and were slightly terrified of) her… (maybe even Bucky). But the two of you got on well and she was sweet as pie to you, and you were always happy to have another friend.

Thor was the club Secretary, possibly the largest man you’d ever seen – well named. Until now you’d always associated secretaries with typing and pencil skirts – no more. Although seeing Thor in a pencil skirt would certainly be something.

Parker…or Peter, as you found out was his first name, was a recent prospect who had become a full member. He was still finding his way a little, and the others were still ribbing him, but he was sweet and enthusiastic, and you liked him a lot. The dart incident was all forgiven, although he still tiptoed around you a little despite your insistence everything was fine between the two of you.

You were still getting to know the other members – Scott, Clint, Loki, Drax to name a few…Then there were the hang-arounds – not members. Some were prospects but some were just buddies of the club. But Steve was very discerning about who they associated with, he would weed out any sycophants or creeps who just wanted the glory of an MC on their side. It was a whole new world, and you were still learning.

There were also a gaggle of girls who hung out at the bar most nights. They were sweet, some of them were involved with various members, some just wanted to be. All very pretty, very fun. They would drink and play bar games and keep the mood light. Perfectly nice to you, decent tippers.

It hadn’t bypassed your notice that Bucky, as President, was their ultimate target. They’d follow him around, laugh uproariously at his jokes and hang off his every word. Amber, who you’d sussed was their de facto leader of sorts, seemed to have staked some sort of claim. All blonde hair and long legs, skin that looked like an Instagram filter and tonight wearing a, frankly, gravity defying halter top. She’d give the other girls a certain look if they got too close to him and they’d dutifully scatter. Your instincts told you she was not someone you wanted on your bad side.

Bucky didn’t exactly deflect her advances. He’d grin at her with amusement when she would drape her long-manicured nails across his arm, whisper something in her ear that would make her giggle and playfully bat him away.

Which you were fine with.

Obviously.

It wasn’t like you had developed a huge crush on Bucky since you’d been working here, or anything like that.

You didn’t steal glances at him when he moved across the bar, his large, toned arms always bare under his kutte – one flesh, one metal. Some threadbare tee worn underneath, straining against his chest and impossibly flat stomach. Didn’t notice the way he’d absentmindedly brush his hair back out of his eyes, scoop it into a loose bun or small ponytail as he chatted. Definitely didn’t feel a little rush of giddiness when he’d lean over you to get to the cash register and you’d get a whiff of his cologne…

“Sugar? You still with us…?”

Your head snapped towards the intrusion, Bucky’s smile tearing you away from your little daydream as he leaned over the bar. Sometimes it seemed like he could read your thoughts.

“Uh, sorry,” you recovered, wiping down the bar with a washcloth. “Was just thinking I need to do inventory”.

He chuckled, “you work too hard, Sug”.

You smiled at one another for a moment before you saw Amber snake her hand around Bucky’s arm. “Buuucky”, she whined. “Come play pool with us,” she said pleadingly.

He looked at her then back at you, opening his mouth to say something before-

“Can I get a beer here or what??”

The three of you glanced down the bar towards the voice. A broad man in a trucker hat stood sullenly at the other end of the bar, gesturing dramatically at his empty bottle.

“Of course, sir, coming right up”, you chirped a little more cheerily than he deserved.

Bucky frowned. You knew that frown well already. He didn’t like the demanding customers who liked to bark their orders.

“It’s fine,” you told him softly as you pulled another bottle from the fridges. “I got this, you go play pool”.

He continued to frown but seemed to relax slightly at your words, looking over at the man sternly as he got up and Amber squealed excitedly at her victory.

Ugh.

“Just come get me if he gives you any shit” he said harshly as Amber tugged on him.

“You know I’ll give him shit right back if he does,” you winked.

“See? She’s a pro. Let’s GO” moaned Amber as she smiled sweetly at you before shoving him towards the pool table.

Bucky looked back at you for a second before the others cheered at his arrival and Sam handed him a cue. Amber had her hand on his back, rubbing it up and down.

You sighed and moved to hand the new beer over to the customer. You smiled and placed it down in front of him and in response he wordlessly tossed a bill from his wallet onto the bar. Charming. You peeled the money off and gave him his change from the register, then did your best to look busy as you kept an eye on the activity by the pool table.

Honestly, you didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were a grown woman, Bucky was your boss and you’d be out of here in no time anyway. Why were you feeling jealous of another woman about a man like this? You weren’t at school anymore. Grow up. The house was coming along nicely, it wouldn’t matter for much longer. You’d get over your crush and move on. You got the impression Bucky had a whole rotation of women…and that was perfectly fine. None of your business. Everyone knows getting involved with your boss is a terrible idea anyway…especially when that boss heads up a biker gang.

The next few hours passed uneventfully with a solid but not overwhelmingly throng of customers, the occasional whoop and cheer from the pool table as the club played and showed off.  You chatted with Nat for a while as she perched on a bar stool, then Vis and Wanda came by to see you which was sweet of them. Over in the corner, Amber was treating Bucky like a soldier back from battle solely because he’d potted a few balls.

The bar thinned out and only a few customers remained. You were at the bar by yourself just refilling the straw holders when a slurred voice interrupted you.

“Another fuckin’ beer” said the demanding customer from earlier, barely able to keep upright as he slammed his hand onto the bar.

What? No way had you served him that much. He’d had about 4 beers all night…What on earth-

“Sir…” you responded as he swayed and wobbled.

Just then, a small glass bottle fell out of his jacket and clunked hard onto the wood below. Ah, yes. That’ll be the culprit.

Your eyes flickered to the gang across the room who hadn’t yet noticed the small disturbance. You were tempted to call them over, but you didn’t want them thinking you couldn’t handle a single drunk guy.

“Sir…you’ve had enough. You need to go home,” you admonished. “You’ve brought outside liquor in here too and I’m not serving you anymore. You need me to leave, alright? I can call you a cab if you need-”

“Another beer…” he repeated, as if you hadn’t said anything.

“Sir, I told you – no. Now please leave,” you folded your arms, the annoyance of dealing with him all evening boiling over into anger. Maybe a little Amber frustration was there too.

“Ano-”

“No,” you cut him off. “Enough. Please go…”

“Listen here, bitch…” he pointed a dirty fingernailed hand at you. “If you don’t get me another beer-”

“You’re not getting shit, so save us both the trouble and get the fuck out before I get Security to throw you out. Hell, I’ll do it myself if I must” you spat back.

He stared back at you agog, seemingly surprised by your change in attitude. The confusion quickly shifted to rage, and it took a moment for your reflexes to catch up with your brain as he suddenly curled his fingers around the discarded glass bottle and-

You ducked, but unfortunately, a tiny bit too slowly. The bottle bounced off your forehead and hit the bar, shattering and sending little shards of glass into your arm. You stepped backwards in surprise and stumbled, crying out in pain as your lower back hit the bar shelf behind you.

You heard the stampede a second later, a flurry of leather and denim enveloping the bar as the man seemed to levitate – but in actual fact he’d been grabbed by Thor and unceremoniously hauled up by his collar. You briefly heard him stumble apologies, but the sound faded fast as Thor pulled him towards the door, flanked by Sam and Steve.

“Oh babe, I’m sorry we left you” said Nat who was leaning down in front of you and checking out your injuries. “You’re okay. I promise”.

You looked down at them too, your arm was bleeding slightly but didn’t look too rough. You couldn’t see your head but could feel a little lump forming. You didn’t feel pain, not really. The adrenaline of the shock saw to that.

“Why didn’t you call us over?? Jesus Christ, Sugar” Bucky chastised as he jostled past Nat and delicately moved your hair out the way to look at your head. You widened your eyes in surprise as he moved his face to yours, measuring your reflexes with his finger in front of your vision.

“I didn’t realise he’d flip…he was just drunk” you mumbled, slightly dazed for more reason than one. “I just told him to leave. I’m fine…”

“No, you’re not, you’re bleeding,” Bucky scoffed, carefully inspecting the cut on your arm.  “And maybe concussed”.

“Bucky…” you frowned.

“Don’t ‘Bucky’ me. You could’ve got really hurt. Why are you bouncing customers? That’s our job”. His tone was angry, condescending.

“Jeez I misjudged it, okay?” you scowled. “He seemed like a mouthy drunk is all. Don’t talk to me like I’m a baby..”

“I’m not! I just-”

“You were busy! I didn’t wanna interrupt…”

“Just playing fuckin’ pool, Sug! Not too busy to stop you getting brained by a bottle…”

“Alright, break it up you two,” Nat interjected. “We don’t need more trouble tonight”.

Bucky scowled but shut up regardless.

She squeezed your hand. “Let me take you in the back, we’ll get you cleaned up. And then let’s get you home, alright?”

You smiled at her, grateful for her kindness.

“No…I’ll take her” Bucky said. “Get over here…”

“Bucky…” you said with insolence.

But he just ignored you, grabbing your hand from Nat’s and dragging you to the back room.

“Buuuck,” whined Amber from across the room. “We still gotta finish the game”.

“Sam can take my shots” Bucky grumbled, continuing to pull you along without looking up.

“But-”

“Amber, what?! Can’t you see I’m busy here?” he spat, looking daggers over at her. “Ask Sam”.

She went quiet, then pouted and harrumphed. Bucky ignored her and kept going.

“Fuck, Sug,” he muttered. “What are we gonna do with you?”

*

[rainymoodlet]

Kiss Me in Komorebi+ 🌸

[ A Coffee Break ]

Part 3 of 5 ☕️

[anxiously-sidequesting]

So I don't know if it was ever revealed how Duncan felt when we killed Malistaire all three times but I'm wondering if maybe some part of him could hate us for that too. Like you hear that and you go "but why. Malistaire was terrible and even Duncan knew that(?). Why would he hate you for getting rid of him."

But like I think it's so....... interesting in a very, very, very sad way how Duncan so easily latches onto anyone who directly feeds into his delusions of grandeur. And that's no fault of his own that he was manipulated by the nasty Schism but when you think about how desperately clung to the idea that Malistaire, easily one of the greatest necromancers any of us had ever heard of (at that time), somehow actually recognized Duncan's talents (even when canon supports that Duncan wasn't all that talented, at least no more than the next necromancer) and then praised him for it so often that Duncan believed that he would be the next Death Professor is. I mean ☹️

So like with that mindset I unfortunately feel like it would be quite easy to twist even Malistaire's death as something that's horrible and awful and all our fault. ESPECIALLY if the Schism was feeding into Duncan's already broken mind and shattered ego and was constantly telling him that everything bad that ever happened to him ever in his life was Our Fault. That's like a realistic conclusion that someone like Duncan could come to

And like, at this point in time, are Malistaire's crimes even a factor in how he thinks????? Was Duncan ever able to separate Malistaire's talent and skills and prowess from the terrible and awful things he did? If Duncan wasn't able to consciously tell that distinction in the first place I can't imagine it would be any better during the years he was being manipulated and isolated and lied to

Like in Duncan's mind it probably isn't, "maybe I shouldn't idolize a national criminal, or idolize anyone at all for that matter, and aspire to be like someone so harmful when I can recognize my own talent and build from there" it's probably more like, "you (the wizard) permanently got rid of a brilliant mind, an innocent person who just made a few mistakes, and someone who believed in me no matter what just so that you could be the better than me and loved by everyone else" and that's! very sad actually!

[fairy-angel222]

Pornstar Dream ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

—in which your friends help you make something other than solo porn for your onlyfans (with a week full of dick appointments of course).

—nanami, choso, sukuna, toji, gojo n geto

—cw: smut, daddy kink, overstimulation, mommy kink, passing out, bondage, gagging, threesome, choking, pussy eating, degradation, praise, breeding, pussy/clit slapping, double penetration, cervix fucking, belly bulge, mask kink, a lot more.

—repost from @/fairyhub

Nanami. Monday 10:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m.

Hearing the ring of your doorbell, you smiled. Jogging down the stairs in just a sexy black robe to swing open the door. Nanami’s cheeks tinted red as he greeted you.

“Hi Kento!” you grinned, embracing him into a hug, “thank you so much for agreeing to this.”

Clearing his throat, Nanami half hugged you back with a short nod. Trying his hardest to keep his eyes off of you. “Yeah, no problem.”

Pulling away, you grabbed the man’s hand and pulled him into your home. Leading him upstairs into the massive guest bedroom where you filmed.

“Okay,” you started, picking up a pitch black ski mask and handing it to him. “The camera won’t be picking up your face, but you can put this one if you’d like.”

Nanami shook his head, “No it’s fine.”

“Great! Well let’s get started kay?”

Nanami found himself sat on your bed as you climbed onto his lap. His head straight forward to avoid falling into the camera’s line of sight. Despite you being able to crop him out.

He groaned when you brought yourself down on his cock. Letting out a soft mewl as your pussy took him all the way it. “Hmm,” you moaned, beginning to bounce up and down slowly while grinding your hips. “Fuck.. daddy,”

Nanami’s eyes widened, his cock throbbing against your walls as his grip on your hips tightened. Helping you speed up your pace to begin fucking yourself on his cock. The man let out a string of deep grunts, the sight of you whimpering while rutting yourself on his cock was almost enough for him.

“Nngh— so good daddy,” you breathed, “sooo fucking good, ahh.” Your lip between your teeth as you gripped his shoulders. Rocking your hips back and forth at a fast pace, your clit rubbing against his base region with each movement.

Your head fell back with your lips parted, your eyes closing as you clenched down on him. “O-oh—” Nanami noticing the way your movements got sloppy before gripping your ass. Fucking up into you at an almost inhuman pace. “F-fuckk—“ you cried out. A silent scream falling past your lips as your eyes rolled back. Allowing Nanami to do the work while you simply moaned and cried, his veiny hand curling around your neck.

“Shit- that’s it doll.“ the man cursed, his breathing getting heavy as your wetness coated his cock. Blunt tip bumping into your g spot each time it grazed your walls.

“D-daddy.. feels so good,” you let out a high pitched mewl, “‘m so close.”

Nanami’s cock fucking up into you making your stomach fill with heat, a coil building up as you were engulfed in pleasure. You could feel your head becoming dizzy as you neared your orgasm, your body trembling as your noises increased in volume.

Your toes curled with a chant of daddy’s. Your nails piercing past the muscular man’s skin. Nanami trying to keep his words limited incase someone recognized him, letting out a low husky string of curses while watching his cock disappear within your sopping cunt.

“F-fuck,” you let out your final cry, a shiver raking through your body before you were cumming on his cock. Drenching him in your clear liquid with a choked whimper.

Nanami groaned, his fingers squeezing into your ass and around your neck as he buried himself deep. Pumping ropes of thick cum onto your slippery walls.

You hummed in content, turning your body in his lap when he pulled out. Using your fingers to spread your folds for his cum to spurt out lewdly.

When you were done you ran to turn off all cameras. Grinning at Nanami before pressing a kiss to his lips, “Thank you again Kento.”

Choso. Tuesday 1:00 p.m. to 3:00 p.m.

Choso was nervous when you had asked him to be in your video, but agreed nonetheless. Walking up shyly to your door before ringing the bell.

Running his hand through his hair to fluff it right before the door swung open. The man swallowing hard as he saw your robe clad frame. “Choso! you made it.” you smiled. And he only nodded while handing you a mini bouquet of flowers. “Y-yeah. And i uh.. i got you these.”

You cooed, pulling him in for a hug making his face burn red. He’d seen your solo content, so it was very hard for him to look at you without thinking back to all the loads he’d blown to the sight.

You led Choso upstairs after getting a vase for the flowers. Pulling him into your recording room while breaking down what would be happening.

“So you can put this on to hide your face.” you offered, holding out a black ski mask which Choso took with no protest. Putting it on after peeling his clothes off of him.

You sat him down of a chair instead of your bed. Tying his hands behind him and kneeling in between his legs. The cameras already rolling, “Ready?”

Choso nodded, “Mhm.”

Choso whimpered as you began stroking his cock slowly. Your touch soft on his skin as you teasingly circled your wrist on his tip. Spreading his precum and using it to fist his cock. Your lip in between your teeth as you smiled to the camera. Choso’s mewls loud and whiny as his body jerked.

“Aww, you like that baby?” you teased, “Like when mommy fist fucks your pretty cock?”

He nodded with a moan, his back arching as you sped up your movements, his cock throbbing when you raked a nail up his distinct vein. “Nngh— l-love ittt, o-oh fuck, love it mommy.”

You hummed, your face seductive as you switched between teasing his aching red tip and stroking down his length. The man tugging at the ropes in an attempt to rut his hips upward into your fist.

“Nngh— more- ahh, please m-more.”

You squeezed down on his base, his head falling back with a needy whimper as his breathing sped.

“You take what i give you okay baby?”

He let out a cry, his chest rising and falling heavily as you continued to tease him. “Nngh- m-mommy..” Choso’s back arched when you placed a kiss to his tip. Swirling your tongue around the glistening mushroom head.

Choso let out a string of moans, his hips thrusting up when you took his cock past your lips. Letting out a long shaky breath as you bobbed your head. Taking him all the way into your throat with a tiny gag.

His abs glistened with sweat as you sucked him off. Adorable noises filling the room as you brought him to his release. “F-fuck mommy- ‘m cumming. Nngh ‘m cumming mommy.” his voice cracked as it got high pitched.

Choso let out a broken whine when you stepped all movements. “N-no.. why?” you could hear the tears forming in his eyes.

“Shh baby, mommy’s gonna give you something even better.” climbing on top of him and sinking down on his cock. “There we go.. good boy.” His cries of pleasure even louder than before as you fucked him with your tightness.

His mewls and whimpers making you even more wet as you lifted yourself off and back onto his cock. Your ass flush on his lap every time you bottomed down.

Your moans mixed with his. Hands secure on his shoulders as you rocked yourself back and forth, his cock prodding your g spot each time. “Fuck, does that feel good baby?”

“Uh huh,” Choso choked out, “s-so good, haah.”

You could feel his cock twitching against your walls. Your head falling back and your lips parting in soft mewls. “Gonna cum baby? Gonna let it out f’ me.”

Choso nodded, “yeah,” he breathed, “‘m there mommy.”

“Cum in me okay? Fill my pussy with your cum.” your demanded, grinding your hips quickly as you approached your own orgasm. Drenching Choso’s cock with a cry before he was doing the same. Pumping you full of his cum with a whimper.

When you were both finished you panted heavily. Momentarily turning to the camera and thrusting two fingers into you for Choso’s cum to run out.

Eventually untying him and pulling off his mask with a giggle. His face fucked out and flushed as he looked up at you.

“Thanks Cho,” pressing a kiss to his lips.

Sukuna. Wednesday 2:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m.

Sukuna didn’t even knock when he got to your house. Waltzing in like he owned the place and making his way straight up to your recording room.

You let out a yelp when you saw the man by the door, a smirk on his face as he took in all the technology. “So you’re a full time slut huh?” He scoffed jokingly. Opening his arms for you to jump into. Wrapping your arms around his neck with a grin. “Hi Kuna.”

“Hi princess, i see you’re pretty much all set up.” You nodded with your lips between your teeth, clad in nothing but your black robe as Sukuna hummed. Allowing you to lead him to the bed while explaining everything.

“Handcuffs, ropes, gag..” Sukuna listed with a grin, “I like it.” Peeling off his shirt to reveal a litter of tattoos on his pale skin and a half sleeve full. His muscles prominent as he stretched. “Gonna do this pussy real good.”

You found yourself on your bed. Your hands handcuffed to the headboard and your feet tied in their spread out position. You whimpered as Sukuna placed a blindfold on your eyes. Getting ready to gag you next. “K-Kuna? You sure you wanna let your face show?”

“They’ve gotta know who’s making you scream somehow, and if you blur out my face i’m spanking that ass red.”

You nodded shakily, Sukuna strapping the ball between your lips before biting your neck softly. Trailing hot kisses down your chest with a groan. “Fuck.. wish you had called me for this earlier. Could’ve made a fortune outta this.” he mumbled lowly.

Your breath hitched when you no longer felt Sukuna against you. You shivered when his touch was replaced by a sharp nail raking up your chest. Circling each one of your breasts before tracing the sides of your waists. He was silent, keeping you breathing heavily in anticipation as a smirk graced his features.

Your back arched with a muffled mewl when Sukuna’s hand came down hard on one of your tits. The stinging sensation sending wetness straight to your pussy. Your chest rose and fell as Sukuna continued trailing your chest. Pressing his lips to your stomach before his hand came down on your other one.

Pulling another muffled cry from you with a hum. He twisted your nipples between his fingers as he kissed down to your cunt. Teasingly kissing everywhere else but where you craved to feel him. When he finally reached your pussy he groaned. “So fucking wet f’me.” Kissing your clit while his finger ran between your folds.

You could only moan behind the gag when he licked a stripe up your slit. Making out with your clit before dragging his tongue back down into your wetness. Your body jerked with a broken whimper when Sukuna’s hand laded directly on your clit. The sensitive bud throbbing at the contact.

You mewled, tugging at your restraints when Sukuna began lapping at your wetness. His tongue darting out to collect your sweetness with his mouth latched onto your pussy.

Another jerk passing through your body with a cry when his hand came down even harder. His tongue still working wonders as it dipped into you, his fingers pinching at your clit before coming down in two more consecutive hits.

Your eyes grew teary under the fabric. The blinking camera picking up the way your breaths became heavier by the time Sukuna had swapped his tongue and fingers. Curling the long digits into your walls while he tongued the rest of you.

Your body was filled with heat when Sukuna gripped your hip. Not being able to see the way he looked darkly at your trembling body. Basking in your incoherent noises as he feasted, feeling his cock grow hard underneath him.

The coil in your stomach grew stronger and. stronger. Unable to voice your release as you clenched down on his fingers with a silent scream, pussy gushing onto his hand and chin making him grunt into you. “Fuck, that’s it.” Replacing his fingers with his mouth to swallow down your juices.

Sukuna’s cock was collecting your wetness before you knew it. Roughly thrusting into you with a deep breath. His thick cock stretching you almost painfully as he bottomed out.

You mewled when he began fucking into you. His pace immediately hard and fast as his massive girth rammed into your tightness. You let out a string of loud cries, Sukuna’s hand wrapping around your neck as he glanced to the camera right in front of him. Giving it a grin before focusing his attention back onto you.

“Shit, taking me so well. Pretty little slut, fuckk.” he groaned, his tip hammering into your g spot making your back arch. Both your hands and legs pulling at their ties at the immense pleasure.

Drool ran past your lips as your body was rocked back and forth with Sukuna’s harsh thrusts. Tears staining your cheeks as he pierced deep into you. His hips holding no mercy as he moved.

Sukuna reached up to wipe your chin with his thumb. His deep voice sending shivers down your spine when he teased, “So messy,” using his hand to spread to spit all over your face before landing his palm on your cheek.

A loud cry leaving you at the burning sensation in your face. Only to have your head turned to the side when he landed another one. “So fucking pretty like this.” Tightening his grip on your neck to allow him to drill into your cunt.

Short screams matching his brutal thrusts as his cock fucked past your cervix entrance. Grazing your gummy walls perfectly on its way in and out.

You clenched down on him hard, letting out a series of muffled noises as you came. Soaking the sheets while you creamed Sukuna’s cock. The man letting out a deep groan with sped up breaths, “Fuck, can i cum in you?” Cursing out when you nodded, his head falling back as he stilled. Spilling ropes if his warm sticky cum deep into you.

“Shit..” he breathed, panting as he pulled out. The camera behind him picking up the way the liquid seeped out of you.

Sukuna untied you before removing the gag and blindfold. Watching as you sleepily blinked up at him through wet lashes. He helped you up, chucking at your messy face before kissing your nose. “Lemme help you get cleaned up yeah? You’ll worry about the cameras afterwards.” Knowing that you had tons of editing to do anyways, meaning that you could just cut the last part out.

Toji. Thursday 2:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m.

When you opened the door for Toji, he smirked widely. His hands on your waist forcing you to the tips of your toes to kiss you. “You look so fucking hot in that robe. Just wanna rip it off you already.”

You giggled, doing a little spin for him and listening to the way he groaned. Pulling you into him for a hug. His nose buried in your neck while he groped your ass in hiss large hand. “Fuck.. we haven’t even started and i’m hard.”

When you bring him up to your room, you explain how things would be going. Toji barely paying attention as he scanned the room. “Can i wear my own mask?” he cut you off, finally turning his attention to you as pulled a ghost face mask out of his pocket.

“It’s a bit late for halloween Toji.”

“But it’s never too late to make a pretty little slut like you squirm.” His deep voice spoke lowly, stalking towards you with the mask on his face. His head tilted as you were backed into your bed. Falling into a sitting position with Toji standing over you, his fingers gripping your chin to make you look up at him. “Hmm, that’s exactly what i’m talking about,” running his thumb over your bottom lip after seeing the way your thighs clenched.

“F-fine.. you can wear the mask,” you grumbled.

“Was gonna wear it either way but thanks sweetheart.” he chuckled shortly, his demeanor going serious when he sighed, “Now, when do i get to ruin that tight cunt of yours?” His eyes darkening with lust as he watched your breathing speed up.

“Y-yeah.. uh l-let me just set up the c-cameras and we’re good to go.” you stuttered, wetness pooling between your legs as you went to set up.

Toji began fucking into you like a mad man. First fingering you to stretch you out before he was full on hammering into your pussy. The blinking camera capturing the way his muscular body flexed with each slam of his hips.

Your eyes were teary as you moaned and cried out. Your body rocking back and forth with every bruising thrust. Toji grunted on top of you, his hand holding tightly onto your neck as he bullied his fat cock even deeper.

Your noises increasing in volume as you turned to look at the camera to let them see how good you were getting fucked. Your tits bouncing wildly as Toji’s force shook the entire bed.

“Fucking look at me.” he growled out, and you whimpered as he tightened his grip on you. “These fucks get to see your dumbed out face all the time, it’s my turn.” Letting out a groan before his hips took an inhuman pace.

You could not see his face, only the image of ghostface looking down at you making you moan loudly. Your back arching as you clenched down on Toji. “Nngh— o-oh f-uckk.. so good- ahh— so g-good.” you cried. Feeling yourself grow closer to orgasm.

“A-ahh, fuck— To- nngh,” you caught your almost slip up, eyes rolling back in a string of shaky mewls when Toji’s other hand pinned your wrists above your head. Masked face coming down to your ear in a deep husk, “Ya like that you little slut? Being fucked in front of a camera for hundreds to see. Such a dirty fucking girl.”

Toji’s smirk widened under his mask, “Let’s give these idiots a show.”

After you came once, he roughly twisted and turned your body into his desired position. Your face in the sheets and your ass in the air. His hand on the back of your neck forcing you to stay down while he bounced himself off your ass.

A dragged out cry leaving your mouth each time his cock rammed deep into you. Threatening to push past your cervix when he sped up his movements.

Your toes curled, drool soaking the sheets as Toji fucked you dumb. Your puffy clit throbbing from the harsh hits of Toji’s heavy balls. “Nnh— ‘s so deep.” you mewled, getting nothing in return but a hard slap to your ass. “Yeah? Better fucking take it.” Toji grunted, his tip kissing your g spot meanly before poking against the skin of your stomach. Creating a visible bulge for everyone to see.

Toji’s head fell back with a groan, his other hand on your hip pulling you onto his cock to match his thrusting pace.

Your brain was foggy. Dizzy even. Your vision clouding as you approached yet another orgasm. Toji’s hand on your neck forcing your head up to face the main camera. “That’s it, show them how good this dick is fucking you. Wanna hear you say it.”

You let out a scream like moan, your stomach burning with heat as your back arched. “F-fuckk— feels so good. Your cock is fucking me soooo good.” you mewled.

“Good girl. Now make a fucking mess.”

You came with a cry, squirting messily onto Toji’s cock and the bed below. Your body trembling and your eyes closing as you were fucked through your high.

In the next few hours Toji had fucked you in all kinds of positions. Your bottom half on the bed while your hands support med your frame on the floor. Toji at the end of the bed lowering his hips onto your sopping cunt. Your cries whiny at the overstimulation.

“Look at you, taking my cock like a fucking champ, bet those men must be wishing to get a feel of that pussy while jerking off.”

“Nngh— you’re not supposed to say that.” you let out a broken whine. Toji’s cock fucking down hard into you as gravity forced your wetness to run down your torso.

“Shit- it’s true. Pussy feels like fucking heaven, i’d want a feel if i was in their place.” He rasped, his breathing getting heavy as his cock twitched. Bringing you to another orgasm before manhandling you some more.

Fucking you in full nelson as you sobbed from all the pleasure. “I can’t— nngh, i can’t.. ‘s too much.” Sweat covering his body as he breathed into your ear. “You can take it. Fuck- just give me two more yeah?”

Holding you directly in the camera’s sight when your pussy gushed. Streams of the clear liquid spraying messily into the air. Toji whistling lowly at the distance it reached.

Then he was bouncing you on his cock, your body falling limp into his chest as he moved your hips. Incoherent babbles falling past your lips as you drenched his thighs. An accidental daddy slipping past your lips as you began to rock back and forth weakly.

“Shit, call me that again.”

“Nngh— d-daddy,” you mewled loudly, your noises high pitched as your clit bumped against his pelvic region.

Toji groaned, “Fuck- you’re driving me crazy. Who’s your daddy baby? Who’s fucking this slutty pussy so good?”

Your legs quivered, clenching down hard as your head fell onto his shoulders. “Y-you. Haah.. you are.” Letting out a short choked scream as your orgasm washed over you painfully. Creaming his cock with a shaky string of whimpers.

Toji letting out a deep chant of curses as he finally allowed himself to release. “Shit- can i cum in ya sweetheart?” Only to look down to find you gone. Passed out against him as your chest rose and fell softly. “Fucking hell.” His voice cracking ever so slightly as he pumped endless amounts of cum into you. Stuffing your cunt to the brim in the thick white substance.

Lifting you off his cock for the camera to see your pussy flutter, his cum running lewdly out of your in spurts.

“Shit.. really fucked ya hard didn’t i,” Toji bit his lip from under his mask. Pulling it off his face to wink at the camera with a short wave and a smirk. “Hey there.” Laying you down onto the bed and placing a kiss to your lips with a sigh. “Let’s see if i can find anything in this big ass place.”

Walking away to find a warm rag or something to clean you up. Leaving the camera running not only because he didn’t know how to use it. But to at least show these people what even the slightest aftercare looked like.

If you decided to keep that part in, that was.

Gojo n Geto. Friday 4:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m.

When you asked Gojo and Geto, the two insisted that they tag teamed you. And you were more than willing to try.

You greeted the two at the door with a smile, being embraced on both sides by the towering men. Gojo smirked, “hi baby,” while Geto placed a kiss to your neck, “hello princess.”

“Hey guys.”

Gojo whistled, “You look so fucking hot in that robe baby, can’t wait to take it off ya.” You giggled, grabbing their hands and pulling them up to the room. “So this is what fucking yourself for some horny men gets you..” Geto laughed.

“So you guys have two options, i can crop and blur out your faces or you can wear these.” Holding up two masks for which both men shook their heads. Geto grinned, “Fuck.. i’m hard just thinking about what we’re going to do to you.”

You found yourself on your hands and knees, Geto fucking roughly into while Gojo fucked your face. Your moans and cries muffled as you were rocked back and forth.

“Shit,” Geto grunted, kneading at the soft flesh of your ass before landing a hard smack, “pussy’s so fucking tight.” You mewled onto Gojo’s cock, gagging and sputtering slightly at his length as he mercilessly slammed into your throat. Heavy balls slapping your chin with each movement.

Your eyes became teary, the feeling of Geto’s cock hammering your g spot making your head feel fuzzy as you whimpered. Your back arching with a string of cries and your breathing speeding up.

The two men watched as your body trembled, your tits shaking lewdly as squelching noises filled the air. Gojo groaned, his hand on your head forcing you to bob up and down his cock even faster as tears stained your cheeks.

The angled camera picking up the way you were destroyed on both ends. Your pussy clenching on Geto’s cock as a thick creamy ring formed at his base. You let out a short moan each time Geto’s cock bullied its way deeper.

Your words incoherent as you shakily announced that you were close. Your hand reaching down to rub at your clit with a high pitched cry.

“That’s it pretty girl. Fucking cum for us.” Gojo groaned, his head falling back as he approached his own release. Your eyes rolled back as you came messily, squirting uncontrollably onto the bed and Geto’s thighs. The black haired man only grunting deeply at the force. “Good fucking girl.. making a mess just like a little slut.”

“Think you can take both of us at once?” Gojo questioned, and you swallowed hard when he pulled out of your mouth. His cock dripping sloppily with your spit. His fingers reached under your chin, lifting your head to look up at him. “What do you say baby?”

You whimpered, “O-okay.” Making both males grin.

Gojo grabbed the black mask, hurriedly putting it over his head before throwing one to Geto, the other man putting his on as well before getting themselves in place.

Geto sat at the edge of the bed with you on his lap, his lips on your ear as he whispered, “If it hurts too much at any point i will stop okay?” You nodded in agreement, shivering as Geto used your wetness as lube.

His cock prodding at your ass before lowering you down slowly. You’d used toys for anal before, so it wasn’t bad apart from the small sting from his girth.

You moaned softly, your back on Geto’s chest with your front facing the main camera. The side camera picking up the way Gojo came up in front of you, Geto holding your legs up for his best friend to line up with your tightness.

You mewled loudly when Gojo thrusted into you. Your chest rising and falling rapidly at the fullness. You could feel both their cocks pushing against each other as they went deeper. Feeling them all the way in your stomach as you allowed yourself to get used to it.

You gave a nod signaling you were ready, your head resting on Geto’s shoulder while your nails dug into his biceps. Moaning loudly when they wasted no time in simultaneously fucking into you.

Matching each other’s rhythm until you were crying out shakily, small tears staining your cheek as you clenched down in both ends. The two men grunting as they relentlessly drilled both your holes. Geto pulling out when Gojo thrusted in and Gojo pulling out when Geto thrusted in.

The two worked to find a pace that drove you over the edge, your mouth hung open in non stop cries as a coil built in your stomach. “Nngh— ‘m close.. feels so good.” You moaned, your vision blurring as your toes curled.

Gojo’s thumb swiped across your bottom lip, “Yeah? Is our little baby gonna cum for us again?” He cooed, pushing his thumb past your lips for you to swirl your tongue around. A hum sounding in his throat before his palm connected with your cheek. A small yelp leaving you before your mouth was stuffed by his fingers again.

“Look at you taking both of us so well. Little fucking slut.” Geto gritted before groaning deeply, “If ya keep squeezing me like that sweetheart, i’m gonna cum.”

You barely processed his words, your own high washing over you as you came. Your body shaking as you slobbered all over Gojo’s hand. Moaning out loudly while creaming his cock.

“Shit— there we go.” Geto breathed. Both he and Gojo husking out a curse as they both stilled. Pumping you full of cum from both ends. You swore you could feel your stomach swell when they finished.

You whimpered when Gojo slipped out of you first, his cum seeping out your pussy in spurts before Geto followed suit. Pulling out of your ass and allowing his cum to run out of the small gape.

Lifting you up and bending your folded body back. Revealing your leaking cunt and ass to the camera while you batted your lashes.

When you were done, both men fixed their hair from the mask. Gojo smirking widely as he panted, “Fuck baby, should’ve let us fuck you like this way sooner.”

Geto nodding in agreement, “Yeah, if i knew you could take cock so well i’d be dicking you down more often.”

Your cheeks heated, the two chuckling as you led them into your master bathroom for a group shower.. and more.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

My Purpose

Mad Scientist Husband x Reader x Yandere Clone

Now your husband, Dorian Goodman, truly believed he was doing you a favor with his newest creation… or should he say creations? He felt like a horrible husband by being away from you for long hours but he was allergic to pet dandruff so that was out of the equation… so why not clean himself? That way you wouldn’t be lonely! He only had his genius to blame for the horror he inflicted on you from this…

So imagine waking up to see your husband laying beside you in the bed still? His arms felt colder than normal and he smelled like preservatives… something was off but you couldn’t put your finger on it… his black hair was still long and beautiful just like his dark lashes. But something in your gut told you this wasn’t him.

And that’s when the figure beside you wakes up and gives you a bright smile. “I’m Dee. I’m your husband’s clone to keep you company while he’s away.”

You never shot up from the bed so fast to call your husband. You were extremely upset with him for creating a replica of himself rather than spend time with you himself… the nerve!

But your husband reassured you it was fine. That Dee was essentially him in every single way and that Dee could be your companion. He brushed off your concerns on this being cheating since Dee was a complete biological copy of Dorian himself but Dee could be deactivated by Dorian’s voice… it frustrated you. Why couldn’t he just leave his silly inventions behind and just spend time with his own spouse once and awhile? You were so lonely in this mansion…

But you didn’t take your frustration out on Dee. The poor clone was as clueless as you but he insisted he was created to serve you. Dee’s purpose was to take care of your needs

Dee would clean around the house and do the yard work. He was the complete opposite of the stoic Dorian. He felt more like a real human being than your own husband… minus how abnormally cold he was. He didn’t talk much but he was there. You started to grow attached to him

You spent a lot of time with Dee. He’d cover you with a blanket if you sat in your reading nook to read, he’d brew you your favorite coffee/tea, and he’d rub your shoulders. You constantly had to tell Dee that it was okay. That he didn’t have to be at your every beck and call but he would always say, “you’re my purpose.”

And Dee took notice of your sexual frustration when he peaked in on you touching yourself in the privacy of the bathroom within the glass shower walls. Curiosity began to settle in him. The cute whimpers and cries from your lips stirred something within him and he pushed the door open

You nearly screamed when Dee entered the bathroom, the only place he wasn’t beside you. But what shocked you more was the large erection in his gray joggers. It seemed he was more human than you thought and you were aching for something inside of you…

You let Dee have his way with you. He truly was a copy of your husband from how much he stretched you. Dee felt so good. He was so big and he was so strong. And he oddly smelled like your husband now… like clean linen and citrus. It was comforting and sexy. It was like Dorian was with your right now. Like Dorian was inside of you.

And in your passion it spilled from your lips once your orgasm rocked through you. Three little words that changed Dee forever, “I love you.” Dee held you while he rode you through your orgasm until his finally came. His strong arms held you up and his cheeks were filled with color. You loved him. You loved him. Dee didn’t want to ever be deactivated. Des wanted to be with you.

Dee would big spoon you every night. His large body pressed as close to yours as physically possible. There was a change in him. He was starting to become warm. Warm like a furnace. It was strange…. Dee became more and more human as the days turned to months. Your texts to your real husband became less and less but he probably didn’t even notice since he was busy with his inventions.

Dee would make you breakfast every morning and have his face between your legs to please you while you ate. Breakfast and sex became the norm for you and him. It felt so wonderful to feel wanted again. And every time, Dee begged you to tell him how you loved him. He would do anything to you to hear those words. Anything.

A shame you started to neglect your real husband. Dorian was shocked to see you folded up in a pretzel in your bed while Dee slammed into you like a mad man. This wasn’t what the clone was built for. He wasn’t built to fuck you. What the hell?

And that’s when Dee gave him a smirk. It was like looking in a mirror except there was something terrifying behind those ice blue eyes. Something sinister and Dorian didn’t like it at all. Dorian needed to get rid of Dee quickly… Dorian gave Dee one last look before he walked out of the room before you noticed

Dee kissed your head as he tucked you in. “I’m going to go get some water, okay?”

Dorian waited in the kitchen for Dee to come to him and the clone did. Dorian and him stared at each other for a few minutes before Dorian sighed.

“Deactivate.” Dorian told Dee but the clone remained standing there menacingly rather than deactivating like he was supposed to. “I said deactivate-“

And that’s when Dee launched himself toward Dorian and began to strangle him. His ice blue eyes filled with glee as the color slowly drained from Dorian’s face. An evil smirk on his face.

“It’s my purpose to make (your name) happy and there not happy with you so you can’t deactivate me anymore.” Dee whispered in Dorian’s ear. “They don’t love you. They love me.”

Dee ended up burying Dorian in the backyard before you woke up. He didn’t want you to be sad about your old husband any longer….

Dee slipped the ring he took off Dorian’s finger onto his. The shiny gold band now proudly on display. A smile on his face. Your real husband was with you now and he’d make you happy.

[harstyle]

the styles’ nanny

Summary: Y/N is a twenty-three year old uni student and Harry is a thirty-six year old single dad. Y/N is a part-time nanny and Harry is her employer. Y/N thinks Harry is hot, and Harry… well, he’s a bit confused.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!yn + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 7.3k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking and lashing out during an argument, no happy ending yet

A/N: I don’t know why I keep writing characters that start out insecure but I swear it’ll get better later!! Let me know if you want to read more, I’m thinking maybe three parts? Also, the fact that y/n is plus-size doesn’t really become a big deal in the story, but that was how I originally had her in mind so I’m leaving it that way. Hope you enjoy!

Y/N was twenty three. She was twenty three, and she used to love being twenty three. She used to love going out to party, the feeling of alcohol burning down her throat, the rush of palpable excitement when having sex with people she’d never met before. She used to love that. But she didn’t anymore.

And the reason for that? One Harry Styles.

It was ridiculous, of course; Harry had other companions he could turn to before ever settling on her— oh and not to mention, he was her boss. Yet, it felt daring, like that time she’d fallen in love with her biology teacher or looked differently at her camp instructor in high school. Authority figures did something to her brain, and Harry was no different.

But of course there was a lot at stake and she would never actually approach the idea; it was a fantasy at most. And she thought… as long as she didn’t act on her brain’s poisoning, it would be fine.

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

“Oh,” she was snapped back to her current state following the short distraction, the butter knife in her hand now seeming more dangerous than when she’d held it seconds before. “Sorry, Harry, what was that?”

She swore she could see an amused smile tugging at his lips for a brief second. She’d always wondered what he thought of her.

“Are you free next Thursday? I have this meeting until late and I doubt I’ll be home for dinner—I was thinking you could maybe put Jamie to bed? You can stay the night if it’s too late to catch a train, or just take the other car?”

Y/N’s work day at the Styles’ house ended at five pm most days in time for Harry to get home, but she did adore Jamie, so staying longer wasn’t remotely an issue.

“That’s okay, I can just stay the night like I did last time, if that’s alright?”

Harry had insisted when she’d begun working for him that she have a room in the house where she could take naps to rest or stay the night all together when it got too tiring to catch the train home, and the notion of it had pulled at her heartstrings. He was very considerate and that was rare in bosses.

Harry shook his head, waving her off with ease, “course it’s okay.”

“Great. I should get home, I have an important test coming up tomorrow. Am I good to go?”

He glanced at the clock, noticing how late it had gotten (he’d offered to cook dinner and Y/N had never been one to reject hot men’s company) and cursed quietly to himself. “I’ll drive you.”

“Oh no Harry, really, it’s okay!”

“It’s almost eight and I feel uneasy whenever I send you away in the dark. Sides, I’m sure Jamie will love a late road trip to your flat,” he reassured with a smile, standing up as if to restrict her getting a choice and starting to load the plates into the dish washer. “Grab your coat and I’ll wait by the door. I’ll get Jamie.”

Y/N did love the way he asserted his wishes to her, kind but dominant in his decisions. He didn’t let her deter him and she, for one, didn’t mind it at all.

“Okay, thank you.”

“No problem, love.”

—

“Can I please just get one scoop? Please?”

“I’m sorry, buddy, we just don’t have any ice cream! I would let you have it if we did, but we don’t. Is there any other snack you’re interested in?”

Jamie was being fussy today and Y/N couldn’t figure out why. He’d been happy when she’d picked him up from school, raving on about his art teacher’s praise on a drawing he’d done with the widest grin resting lazily on his small lips. It had been at around three that he’d started whining at her, not wanting to eat even though he’d requested the grilled cheese and flicking through about twenty channels until he’d finally settled on not watching anything at all. Y/N had figured he was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep either, so she was left thoroughly baffled trying to find ways to tame his mood.

But he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop whining and crying, wouldn’t stop flailing his tiny arms and legs, wouldn’t stop pouting at her. Jamie had the best behaviour Y/N had ever seen on a boy, really, so this behavior worried her. “I just want ice cream!”

“Jamie, we don’t have any ice cream. How about I get you ice cream tomorrow, hm? And today we’ll have something else? Come on, remember how we learned about compromise?”

Y/N was trying, pulling Jamie into her lap to comfort him even though he didn’t care for any of it. His face was red and angry and nothing she said registered in his brain. He cried into her shoulder instead, gripping at her sides in terror. “You’re being mean to me.”

“Hey, that’s not very nice, I’m trying to help you bud.”

“Please, I just want ice cream.”

It was kind of cute how even in his state of devastation, he still managed to be polite to her.

“And I hear you, Jamie, but we don’t have any right now. Will you settle for Oreos? Or chocolate?”

He merely shook his head.

Y/N breathed a grateful sigh when she heard the front door being unlocked, still bouncing Jamie up and down in her lap in hopes that he’d settle down just a bit. She was sure Harry’d heard the crying from the front door because his steps were fast and his expression of concern clear.

“What’s wrong, bub?”

Jamie reacted with a devastating whine, calling for his dad and reaching his arms out begging to be carried. Harry shot Y/N a look of mixed confusion and apology, leveling the boy out from inside of her lap. He mouthed the question she knew he’d been thinking and felt bad when all she could offer in return was a shrug because she knew it wasn’t the ice cream anymore

Harry sung in whispers into his ear in the hopes of calming him, bouncing him around on the spot. He pressed kisses to his forehead, drawing circles on his back. It worked better than when Y/N had done it, Jamie’s sobs having soothed into few hiccups and sniffles.

Y/N couldn’t help but admire how naturally skilled Harry was at being a father. She knew a little bit of the history— his fiancée at the time leaving him for another man months after having given birth to Jamie and having to raise him by himself. He was a busy man and Y/N could often tell that he felt bad about being unable to do things like pick up his son from preschool or spend all day playing in the den, but he was still a better father than hers had ever been. He was a great father.

Not long after his crying had died down, Jamie fell asleep in Harry’s arms. Y/N finally breathed a sigh, relieved to catch a break. She loved taking care of Jamie, but jesus had today been hard. Harry carried him up to his bedroom, careful as to not bother him and advised Y/N to wait for him to come back.

Whilst Harry was putting Jamie to bed, she decided to clean up a bit. She went through the array of toys Jamie had taken out and discarded after a short minute of playing with them, and placed them back in the drawers. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw the dino plush toy she’d gifted him when she’d first started working for this family months ago— he still played with it all of the time. In fact, Harry had once sent her a photo of it sitting next to him in the car when they’d gone on vacation in the summer. She recalled tearing up because of it.

“Hi, sorry for taking so long.”

She swore she almost jumped in reaction to his thick voice, gripping the plush tightly against her chest in shock. Harry allowed himself a chuckle, raising his arms just enough to surrender. “Sorry, should’ve knocked.”

Y/N’s only response was a forced chuckle. It still felt weird to be in a room with him by herself, without the presence of a cute five year old to tend to. It was moments like these she felt guilty about fancying him. Most of the time Harry was merely a ghost around the house and whenever he settled back in, she would leave. She rarely ever had time to utter more than a quick ‘see you tomorrow’ and rush off home. It wasn’t like he was there, so her thoughts about him didn’t seem too off putting— now, with the company of awkward silence engulfing them, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted by herself.

“Think he’s getting sick,” he then added.

“Probably,” she agreed. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before so it was just a bit worrisome.”

“Yeah, he only really gets like that when he’s sick, so I think it’s safe to say… you’re alright, though?”

“I’m fine, just a bit worried, as I said.”

He smiled like he found that amusing, “he’ll be okay. Are you hungry? I was going to make pasta for dinner.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

Last time she’d had dinner here, Jamie had sat next to her. It hadn’t been just her and him.

“Yeah. Why don’t you put the dino down and we’ll go make it together?”

In an instant, her cheeks heated up. She hadn’t even noticed she was still clutching to it for support and figured he must’ve thought she looked so stupid welcoming the comfort of a plush toy. Another awkward chuckle escaped her as she threw it gently into its container, bucking down to lock it away as well as her memory of these last two minutes, hopefully.

Harry was a good cook, but that wasn’t really surprising at all— in fact, she couldn’t imagine there were many things he wouldn’t excel at. Y/N, on the other hand, she was terrible. She’d burned so many things in her apartments kitchen that she couldn’t keep count even if she tried. So naturally, he took the lead in every task she did, from cutting onions to seasoning the salmon.

“Wait, no, y’can’t— here,” she couldn’t help but giggle as he took the knife from her hands, cutting into the flesh himself. He huffed, but she knew it was teasing. “You’ve gotta learn how to cook.”

“I know how to cook basic things, just not some five star gourmet meal. I think you’d be surprised what I can do with some seasoning, eggs and tomatoes.”

“I have no choice but to take your word for it, do I?”

“Guess not. Can I do something else? I feel so useless.”

He clicked his tongue, not even sparing a glance her way. “Go sit on the counter and look pretty.”

And at first, Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. Did she just… literally sit on the counter? Probably not. It was… a joke, right? How did he expect she would react to such a bizarre request? For a second the guilt she’d been feeling about potentially being unprofessional subsided in a flush.

Then he finally let his eyes settle on her and she just about fainted at what he had to say, “what? Do you need help getting up?”

She was 99% sure at this point that he just got off on pestering her, what with the dino, and now this? Prior to these last two weeks he’d never even spoken more than five words to her, and now he was inviting her to dinner. He probably found the confusion written all over her face amusing.

She could probably indulge a little then, right?

“Yeah, I do.”

He didn’t just laugh, though, like she’d expected him to— no, he ran his hands under hot water, wiped his hands on his (very) expensive trousers and walked toward her. He motioned to the counter as if asking her to get closer and—

“Wait, no, I can do it.”

He immediately stepped back, hands dropping from her waist and smirk molding his mouth.

“You can now?”

“Yes.”

He held eye contact for a few more beats before moving away with a solid nod.

What the fuck was that?

Y/N had expected him to dismiss her, uttering something along the lines of ‘I was only joking’, but that? Never would she have thought that that would be the response.

It was funny, too, because he never could’ve carried her up without at least a bit of struggle. She knew what he was used to— thin women, supermodels even, and she was neither.

So despite the confusion, she got up on the counter like he’d asked. On her own.

And when he’d started asking her about normal things like family and uni, Y/N slowly eased out of her awkward stance. She told him about her mother, her brother, and left her deceased father out of it. He smiled, nodding along to her words whenever the situation allowed it and kept his eye on the food.

A blink was all it took for him to announce dinner and the two of them sat at the table together, peacefully quiet.

It was around six thirty when the patter of tiny feet sounded through the house, from the stairs to the kitchen. Both of the adults waited patiently, eyebrows raised in surprise that the little gremlin had decided to wake up after only having slept for two hours.

“Daddy?”

Y/N almost melted at his sweet, buttery voice.

Harry hummed, “is that you, bub?”

He finally poked his head into the room, carrying a plush toy in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He studied the room before settling his green irises (clone of his dad’s) on Y/N.

“Y/N, you’re still here.”

She smiled, a pity smile, and answered in a sweet tone, “I am, bud. Is that okay?”

He merely nodded, stalking closer. Harry pulled him up into his lap, kissing his forehead before letting him rest against his front.

“I wanted to apologize for being mean before.”

Her stomach did another flip.

Was this a dream, or did a five year old just apologize to her on his own incentive? She swore these Styles boys surprised her every day!

Her eyes flickered to Harry and she watched as a proud smile stretched his mouth. He met her gaze, the grin undeniably wide, and shrugged as if to say didn’t tell him to.

“That’s okay, Jamie, I understand you were frustrated. Are you feeling better?”

He nodded again, although it was weak and subtle, “my throats itchy.”

Harry’s smile faded with his confession and he pressed the back of his palm to his son’s forehead, “why’d you get out of bed, then, silly? You need to rest if you’re sick.”

“Missed you, daddy.”

She could see that same guilt she’d seen so many times before manipulate Harry’s features again, and her heart broke a little bit for him. She couldn’t keep track of the amount of times she’d wanted to just break and say you’re a wonderful father to him, but stopped herself in fear of overstepping.

Knowing he wasn’t going to say anything soon enough, too lost in his own thoughts, she went on for him. “Tomorrow is Saturday, Jamie, how about you go rest so you can have a full day with your dad tomorrow? S’not nice spending weekends sick in bed, as you know.”

In a manner that was so much more than cute, Jamie’s fingers trapped his chin to appear deep in thought, and then he nodded. “That makes sense.”

Y/N almost laughed, “doesn’t it?”

“Will you be here too, Y/N?”

Jamie knew very well that Y/N wasn’t here on Saturdays, so she guessed he was only implying that she should be. An invitation of sorts.

But she really couldn’t handle being around Harry on the weekends as well as on weekdays, so she shook her head gently, “no, but I’ll be back on Monday, is that okay with you?”

To show his dismay, he jutted his lip out in a pout. “Can’t you come over for lunch?”

Harry nudged him, “Jamie, remember how we talked about what Y/N does when she isn’t here with us?”

“School. But there’s no school on Saturdays!”

“She does school, you’re right. When you get older, there’s so much you have to do for school that it never stops, not even on weekends. And you know what else she does? She meets up with friends, she plays tennis, she goes shopping for groceries. There’s tons she has to do besides spend time with us, yeah?” He never met her gaze as he spoke to Jamie, and it was better that way— he’d probably have caught her loved up eyes if he dared to do it. He remember details about her she didn’t recall telling him about. As if it hadn’t been enough, he added onto it, “plus, I reckon she’d appreciate a break from us, huh? We’re definitely not the only boys in her life, so we should share once in a while. No matter how much we like having her around.”

It was almost magical, the connection Harry and Jamie shared with each other. Nevermind what he’d said to make Jamie understand (she definitely hadn’t missed that last sentence— or the idea of ‘other boys’ altogether), it just made her happy to listen to them converse. It was healthy, a bit serious when need be but mostly light and protective. He did everything in his power to preserve Jamie’s innocence, especially about his upbringing and the whole mother issue.

After a long train of thought, Jamie slowly nodded his small head, “okay. Fine. But I get you Monday! No other boys Monday through Friday.”

Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from her mouth, incessant and silly. “Okay, Jamie, I promise I won’t let other boys come between us Monday through Friday, okay? Is that good for you?”

“Me and daddy, though. He’s the only other boy allowed.”

She giggled again, avoiding Harry’s gaze but nodding nonetheless, “sure. Daddy too.”

She felt Harry shift out of her periphery.

“Okay,” he finally settled, outstretching his arm across the table, “pinky promise?”

She did the same, but just before Jamie had a chance to interlink his much smaller finger with hers, she pulled back. “If I pinky promise you on this, will you pinky promise me that you’ll finally go rest?”

He hummed in agreement.

She welcomed the promise, letting her finger link with Jamie’s for a few seconds until he felt ready to let go.

“Now go lay down. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”

“Kay. Can I have a hug?”

“Of course,” she cooed at him, arms already outstretched the moment he’d climbed down from Harry’s lap. Jamie gave the best hugs, so she figured Harry would as well. She’d never gotten to test that theory, though. “Okay, good night.”

“Night.”

Jamie took slow steps (he was much like his father that way, taking his time in everything he did) and slowly disappeared into the main room, eventually stalking up the stairs as both Y/N and Harry listened for it.

“Thank you,” Harry then broke the silence. Her eyes flickered toward him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, but a nervous smile playing on her mouth. “You’re so good with him.”

“It’s my job to be good to him.”

“It’s your job to take care of him, but you’re not… you’re doing much more than just be nice to him and I appreciate that. So thank you.”

“He’s a great kid, so… not a very difficult thing to do.”

The air had somehow become thick and unwavering, unspoken words wafting between their bodies across the table and back. Harry looked like he wanted to say more but his jaw stayed shut in place and she certainly wasn’t going to pester him about it. It was already difficult to keep in mind that despite the lighthearted dinner, he was still her employer, and that the boundaries they had been practicing since the beginning of her time here were slowly being blurred and tested.

So it didn‘t really matter what she felt whenever he spoke to her, she had to preserve herself and her position here.

She feigned a glance at the clock to justify looking away and sat up in her chair, “I should go home.”

His nod was curt, “okay. I’ll get the keys.”

“No, don’t worry, I have to stop by somewhere else before. I’ll manage.”

It was a lie, of course it was.

“Fine.”

As Y/N made her way back outside, she regretted declining his offer and the farther she walked away from the house, the more she thought about the things they could’ve talked about had she let him grab his keys and escort her home. If he would walk her to the door like last time, without Jamie in the car of course, and bid her a proper goodbye. How maybe, if they’d inched close enough, they would share a moment of hesitation before kissing. Her imagination ran wild with it and she knew that it wouldn’t really happen, but the chances would’ve been greater had she just been bad.

Shit.

—

Y/N was crying.

She was bursting into tears outside of a bar looking like a pathetic, lost idiot— and it just wouldn‘t stop. She couldn’t recall anymore what exactly she‘d expected before going into the date she‘d spontaneously agreed to as a result of her mother‘s pleas, but it certainly hadn‘t been such an embarrassing let down. Her shoulders slumped as she thought back on her date‘s words: I don’t see this going anywhere, but you’re a really nice girl. Friends?

And why was she crying? She was crying because she knew what he’d really meant was: you’re not my type at all, and this was a waste of my time. How did she know? The way he’d looked at her, with a sparkle of disgust in his eyes, the tone he’d used; pitiful and mean. How he’d looked at other, skinny girls while Y/N had been planted directly in front of him and lastly, how he’d left before the date had even ended.

Y/N hadn’t left the bar as soon as he had, no, she’d stayed until now; closing time. She’d drunk herself to exhaustion, pulling shot after shot and even worrying the barista who went to her psych class at uni. Before she’d known it, the clock had struck three am and four hours had passed since what’s-his-face had left her to rot in there.

She had no idea what to do, she could barely even form a thought. It didn’t matter that she’d been rejected— this wasn’t about that, it was about something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Since the beginning of time relationships had been sparse and dreadful, so another notch on her belt couldn’t have mattered so much as to bring her to a multitude of tears, but she did feel unlovable and undesirable in the way she had throughout all of her life. People had told her things would get better if she waited it out, but they’d lied. Guys were still assholes.

There was really only one person she felt like contacting, and that was Harry. He’d been on her mind all weekend. She’d been wondering if she ever crossed his mind, if for a sliver of a second he allowed himself to think about her in the way she thought about him, and felt a disgustingly sour taste in her mouth when she realized the answer had to have been no.

But Y/N was drunk, and people did stupid things when they were drunk— so without much afterthought, she used the remainder of her battery on dialing his number. He answered after the first ring and her mind wandered to question the plausibility of him being awake at this hour.

“Y/N?”

She was struck watching the road in front of her, unable to answer. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

What had she done?

“Y/N, is everything okay?” another wave of tears overwhelmed her senses and as a result, she sobbed right into the speaker, and heard shuffling on the other side. “Sweetheart, where are you? What’s happened?”

“This guy— he just— he was so mean and he left me here—“

“Where? Where are you? Who left you?”

“The viper.”

“Y/N, that place closed twenty minutes ago. Are you inside?”

“No, she… she said I need to get out, so I did, but I didn’t know where to go cause m’drunk, and I…” there was a pause in which she realized how stupid he must’ve thought she was, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, listen to me. Please stay there, don’t move, and send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”

She had no fight left in her, so she nodded to herself. Harry didn’t see, obviously, but he hung up with the hope that she’d understood him clearly.

When he arrived not fifteen minutes later, he put his car in park and hopped out to find Y/N sat on the floor, a lazy smile pulling at her lips when she laid eyes on him.

“Harry, hi! I was just thinking about you!”

He said nothing, a tick in his jaw as he helped her up on her feet, grounding her stature. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and he kept a steady beat to bring her to warmth as quickly as possible. Y/N got the idea, aimlessly buckling up and failing miserably until he offered assistance.

“Thank you,” she murmured to him, though he refused to give a verbal response. He merely nodded, jaw still locked in place before he closed the door. Y/N watched as he walked over to the other side and opened the door.

He drove in silence and Y/N tried to be okay with that. She stared ahead, mind still gloomy, with her lips jutted out in a pout. The silent treatment made her feel like a scolded child, like Harry was her angry father who refused to speak to her because she’d come home past her bedtime. She looked over to scan over his features, make sure the crease between his forehead had subsided at least a little, but it hadn’t.

After the longest minute of her life, she finally asked, quietly, “are you mad at me?”

And when he didn’t say anything, her heart dropped.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Y/N didn’t dare to say anything for the rest of the ride. When they got back, Y/N opened her own door and hopped out, refusing to wait for Harry to help. He sighed, she could hear, but she just slowly trailed after him.

“Up on the counter,” he grumbled, grabbing a glass of water to help sober up. She took it from his hand.

“Harry, I’m sor—“

“Drink the water.”

She almost flinched at his angry tone.

Y/N was halfway done with the glass when he scoffed, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “I’m angry because you were irresponsible. First you go on a date with some dickhead—“ she opened her mouth to protest, but failed to when he put up a finger to halt her, “then you get yourself drunk and sit outside of the bar alone in a stingy area. Something could’ve happened to you, then what?”

All Y/N could say was, “it didn’t,” and it was the weakest argument she could’ve thought of.

“It very well could’ve and you’d have your stupidity to thank for it.”

Her heart banged again. She didn’t like getting reprimanded by Harry, nearly at the end of her rope anyway. She‘d never seen this side of him before, stern and miserly. Clearly Y/N had only really seen one version of him and had gotten lost in the illusion of it all.

In a last attempt to make him understand, vulnerable and naked, she let herself sniffle, “I don’t think anyone is ever going to love me.”

She‘d expected it to pull at her heartstrings more than it ended up doing— ironically enough, she felt fine confessing to him. Maybe it was the fact that she‘d bottled it up for so long that it was nice to finally admit to it, to allow somebody else to step into her shoes. Of course, every confession came with a tinge of embarrassment (it wouldn’t be a confession otherwise), but this one was still manageable. And yeah, maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her system, but who cared?

“What?”

“No one loves me. I’ve never… guys have never liked me enough to want to brag about it, or keep me around for longer than a month, and… and I do get it, cause I come with a shit ton of baggage, but it just… it takes a lot to be motivated about things that way. I’m twenty three and I’ve barely experienced what it means to love someone and actually have them love you back.”

The display of vulnerability floated heavily through the air.

He was silent for a second. He did that sometimes, she noticed, especially when he was processing things.

Once he did open his mouth, though, he knew exactly what to say, “you can’t let some immature boys get to you like this, you hear me? Tell me one good asset the guy you went on a date with had.”

Y/N shook her head, not because she couldn‘t have if she‘d thought about it hard enough but because she had no energy to continue this conversation any longer. He wouldn’t get it

“See? No guy is worth crying over, especially not on some dirty pavement outside of a bar.”

He truly did have a point there, she supposed.

But it wasn’t just about that, so she told him exactly that— well, at least tried to, “it’s more than… I don’t… I don’t feel good enough.”

“You’re being a bit silly, sweetheart.” She registered how sweet he’d gotten again, finger brushing against her knee and features softening just enough to convince her of safety. He probably felt bad for her. “You’re plenty good enough.”

“Y’don’t get it,” she murmured, “you don’t understand what it feels like to get rejected solely because of your looks.” Y/N had always felt slightly weird talking about her appearance with people who weren’t her closest friends, and even then she felt judgment coming from them. Each time they asked if she would come clubbing with them to score boys, she was never able to honestly express that she‘d never wanted to go because it was always her who was left riding home in an uber alone. And it wasn’t like she felt ugly— in fact, there were instances she felt so confident nobody could’ve told her anything, but then there were those few others… and her whole system came down crashing.

“What do you mean?”

He couldn’t be so daft, could he?

“You’re— you just don’t fucking get it, okay? It’s… whatever, I don’t care.”

That took some courage too, courage she only registered after having uttered the words, but she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t mutter the words this guy didn’t fancy me because I’m fat, because she still had more class than that— even drunk. Ever the childish, pouty person she was, she had more shame than that.

She buried her face in her hands, breathing out, “I’m sorry. Sorry, that was rude of me.”

“It’s fine,” he placed a warm hand on her thigh, thumb stroking soothingly. With a sympathetic look in his eye (confusion too, she guessed), he tried to pacify her concerns, “you need sleep, everything will be better when you wake up.”

He was probably right about that.

“Okay.”

As he escorted her up the stairs, she couldn’t help but let her eyes trail over his features, watching as they hardened and softened based on the turmoil occurring inside of his mind. She wanted to reach in there and grab onto clues, grasp an understanding of the workings of him, but he made that nearly impossible. She would look away if he caught her eye, cheeks heating up every time she was captured by his darkened green irises.

He opened the door, allowing her to take the first step. She didn’t really need the help, but she couldn’t complain when his hand posed on the small of her back so he could maneuver her onto the sheets.

“Do you want a change of clothes, Y/N?”

“Um, if you have something?”

She doubted there was anything in his huge closet that would fit her in the way she preferred, but the idea of spending the night in jeans was just as dreadful, so she took the chance and nodded.

He came back later with a stack of clothes perched on his left hand, the other holding another glass of water. “Anything else?”

Y/N paused for a moment to think and shook her head, “no. But just—“ she swallowed around the lump in her throat, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She couldn’t believe the words she spoke next, no thought invested into them: “will you come into bed with me?”

Time refused to pass, the ball was in his court.

When he gave a subtle nod, it was like god and the universe were sending good karma her way. Her compensation for the night. “Just until you fall asleep.”

Y/N scooted to the other edge of the bed, reaching down under the blanket to rid herself of her jeans and pull on those grey sweatpants. Surprisingly enough, they fit extremely well. Harry laid down over the blanket (to prevent getting too comfortable, probably) and perched himself onto his forearm.

Another bold wave met with Y/N’s courage as she reached out her hand to trail over his chest. Harry swallowed thickly.

“You’re really nice t’me.”

“You deserve to be treated well.” The snort that left her was completely involuntary, but it still made Harry frown. “You do.”

“Everyone does,” she later mumbled in agreement. He seemed to dislike the way she’d surrendered, though, because he did that thing with his jaw whenever he was ticked off.

What he didn’t like was the implication behind her tone that she only deserved respect because everyone did, regardless of her own character. She was disregarding her beauty and her kindness, her character, and reducing it to a commodity when it wasn’t.

He’d always had difficulty expressing his feelings, though, so he stuck with silence. Stone cold silence.

It pertained for five more minutes until he watched as sleep slowly overtook her figure, peaceful breaths cascading from her mouth. She looked so pretty asleep; relaxed, void of concerns and the crinkle in her forehead from tonight’s events dissipating into its initial form.

He wondered if she’d ever given him other implications of being an insecure girl— if she had, he’d caught none of them. He never would’ve thought somebody so effortlessly beautiful and kind as her could think to deserve less on such extreme levels. It made him wonder if anyone had ever treated her as she deserved; he noticed once that whenever she spoke about her family, she failed to mention her father. It seemed men had disappointed her in more ways than one.

There was inner turmoil bothering him. He didn’t know what he was feeling for his child’s nanny, but there was surely no other woman he felt as eager to take care of— picking her up, driving her home, clearing a room for her.

It was terrifying to allow himself these few minutes of observing her because he feared the impure thoughts which would cross his mind. Not perverse, but intimate. She deserved more than him, he was sure of it.

He left the room after another five minutes, trying to be as subtle as possible as he walked to the door. It was later than four am, so he stopped by his son’s room to check on him. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he finally carried himself to his own bedroom.

He would lie awake until sunrise.

—

Y/N had never woken up so panicked before, chest heaving and mind elsewhere entirely. Her head was pounding and her heart rate palpable, she was sweating all over and she could only recall last night in small, blurry tidbits.

God, and she had to face Harry. On a Monday morning.

After maybe ten minutes of lying around and procrastinating, she finally moved herself out of bed. She pulled on her clothes from last night, drank the water that was situated on her nightstand and tidied up in the bathroom before going to search for him. She looked upstairs— no trace of him, so she cascaded down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. On the way there, his office caught her eye. The door was cracked opened and at a closer peek, she saw him sitting at the desk with his hand buried in his hair, mumbling something. She knocked, he flinched.

“God, Y/N, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” she gave a sheepish smile, “are you busy?”

“I—“ he sighed, shaking his head. It was when he spoke into the phone lying on his desk that she realized he’d been one a phone call. Before she could backtrack, he’d muttered an ‘I’ll call you later, Stace’ to them and hung up for her. She stood there, fingers interlaced in front of her body and balancing on the balls of her feet in intimidation.

He didn’t look happy either, and that was probably because ‘Stace’ was Jamie’s mother. She would call every few months, he’d told her, and cause some sort of havoc— from wanting to talk to Jamie on the phone to wanting to see him in person. When asked why he didn’t like letting her see Jamie, he’d given Y/N a very vague answer; wouldn’t do any good. She’d settled with that back then, having sensed the energy shifting.

Y/N felt bad for him now, the stress assuming control of his features almost overwhelming to look at.

He was already glancing up at her expectantly, but the words disappeared from her brain and all she wanted to do, really, was comfort him.

“I— are you okay?”

It was a visceral reaction he had to those few little words, the furrow in his eyebrow deepening, “yes, why?”

“Because… well because you were talking to Stacie on the phone—“

His scoff interrupted her pity stutter, “so you’re listening in on my conversations now?”

Oh, she was no longer sorry; she was scared. “No! No, I’m not, I swear! I was walking past looking for you and I heard you mumble something, I don’t— I would never…” and he must’ve known that. He must’ve known that she would never, ever listen in on his conversations, nor try to overstep the line by doing that (obviously she’d fucked up last night, but aside from that). He knew her, he’d trusted her for long enough for her to know that he knew that, so his accusation ticked her off.

But he looked terrifying right now; eyes dark, eyebrows furrowed, closed off stance, and nothing like the Harry she’d gotten to know well. And she had no idea if it had been last night or this that had finally pushed him over the edge.

“So why bring it up?”

“Because you— because you’ve talked about it before and I was just— I wanted to check on you!” She was stuttering like an idiot, she was aware, but with her comfort bubble gone, her speech wasn’t a reliable asset anymore. She’d always been terrible at communication and even worse at confrontation. And he must’ve known that because he was using it to his advantage— and that was mean, because he knew she would never. He knew. Didn’t he?

“It’s not professional, Y/N, but I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you know that last night wasn’t either, but you keep fucking pushing me.”

And that… well, was partly right.

“I know last night wasn’t…” she shook her head, “it wasn’t professional, I know that. I don’t know why I called you, I don’t get it either, it just happened, really, and I wanted to apologize. I understand if you—“ she peered down toward her hands, swallowing the lump in her throat, “if you don’t feel comfortable with me being here anymore. With your son, I mean, I’d totally understand.”

Y/N thought that was quite sensible of her. Of course, if she could get a chance to have a repeat of last night, she would take it in a heartbeat— but she couldn’t, so this was all she could do. She loved working here, giving it up would hurt, but she understood if that was what needed to be done.

“You just… you can’t fucking call me at three am in the morning drunk off of your arse—“

“I know that—“

“Clearly you don’t!” And she detested how his voice raised. “And clearly you don’t get that there are things you just can’t talk about; like Stacie, or your own relationships, or whatever the fuck else you’ve brought up to me.” If she felt like a scolded child yesterday, then she’d had no idea how bad it could get. “I’m your— I’m your employer, not your fucking therapist. I’m not here to clean up your fuck-ups, pat you on the head and tell you it’s alright.”

Her eyebrows furrowed because she knew that too, and she found it borderline preposterous that he would imply she didn’t.

There was a 180 here, and she was becoming less and less understanding.

“I told you I don’t know why I called you, Harry, I don’t know! What am I supposed to say? I was terrified and sad and don’t ask me why, but you’re the only person who actually gets what I’m talking about half of the time, so it just happened!”

“You act like I’m somehow responsible for you.”

Her frown deepened; she hated the notion that he had to take care of her in some way, as if she was incapable of it on her own account. “On what basis? I think you might be pressuring yourself into that, Harry, because it’s fucking ridiculous. I never made you do anything.”

He released a frustrated breath, “you have to stop worming your way into our lives— you’re our nanny, that’s it. You don’t ask me about my personal life, you don’t call me in the middle of the night to make me worry and you don’t ask me to get into bed with you.”

“You act like I don’t know that!”

“Evidently you don’t.”

“Yes I d—“

“Just—just stop. Stop talking.”

It shut her up. It did not only that, the increase of his volume had made her flinch on the spot. She wasn’t a fan of confrontation, as mentioned before, but what she despised even more was yelling. She couldn’t stand yelling, fighting, accusations being thrown in the air with no regard to anyone’s feelings. It was an extremely sensitive thing for her and she definitely hadn’t expected to experience it with him today.

Y/N saw him a little differently in this light. The sternness with which he delivered those words, strict and mean, reminded her of her childhood. He saw her weakness, saw the stress she was under, and did nothing to relieve the situation. Instead he’d yelled at her.

Her hand was shaking a little and tears were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t let him see it, though, the weakness. She couldn’t allow him to see that a simple instruction had made her want to cry.

“I can’t deal with you today, Y/N, so please just… just go.”

She left without another word— straight up turned around and closed the door behind her with shaky hands. She couldn’t stand him right now, but even more she couldn’t stand herself.

She’d fucked up so badly.

And maybe… maybe she needed to quit.

-

part two!

And there we have it! don’t hate me for that ending it was necessary!

[cyberm4n]

OK, I NEED SO BAD Adam,Alastor and Husk smut hc's with a hypersexual fem!Reader 😭. Maybe after both finished a round (One of all they had lol), a few seconds pass and she says smiling "can we do it again?" But they have already crossed their own limit.

Sorry for my Bad English 😿

BAHAHA I LOVE THIS IDEA

i had to do a little research on being hypersexual to make sure i was doing this right but if i got anything wrong/inaccurate please let me know!!

cw: smut, reader gets eaten out, reference to rough sex?

alastor —

■ looks im imagining this to be so funny cause alastor is big on rough sex so like moments after fucking you senseless only for you to be like "again? :D" REALLY MESSES WITH HIM

■ like especially cause he feels spent, like he put a lot of effort in there and like??? you're just straight back to normal?? you want more??? how?

■ i think if he's completely spent he'll summon his like shadow self and then it becomes a mental thing

■ cause he's still controlling that but he's not having to do the physical work

■ but otherwise i think he'd probably have a toy for after in the future

■ hear me out but like he's JUST filled you up with his cum and hes immediately pushing a vibrator into you that's on max, making sure you stay all marked up and too stupid to beg for more

■ he'd adjust just fine

adam —

■ this is even more funny to me cause like he's 100% the type to slump over on you after hes cum, still sheathed in you.

■ he seems the type to want multiple rounds so let's say this is like round 3 just finished

■ so when you're like "again please?" literally less than a minute later his eyes snap open

■ like, he knows women typically come back faster than men from this shit but like he's pretty certain he's gonna start shooting blanks if he goes any more

■ there's a beat of silence before he's like "are you fucking serious" and you pout a little, assuming he's making fun of you

■ but like it's adam, this man LOVES sex so the fact you're like so down all the time is great

■ i dont see him being the type to have toys for you (he definitely owns one of those men's masturbaters tho) so he'd find other solutions

■ it's 50/50 he either has you cock warm him until he's ready to go again or he's eating you out like there's no tomorrow

husk —

■ okay he'd be so confused

■ he's a 1 round kind of man but like, he's barely even pulled out and you're like "can we do it again?" with a smile

■ and he's shocked to hear you mean like, right now

■ he'd adjust fine to it though

■ again, don't think he'd have toys but he's cool to go down on you

■ his favorite is rubbing your clit though, just his fingers

■ maybe he'd eventually get a little vibrator or something for you

■ just wanting to make sure you're happy <3

■ i think husk would be the only one to really ask questions abt it, yknow kinda figure out your preferences and stuff

■ he knows he doesn't work the same so he wants to make sure he's treating you well

■ but if you let him eat you out it's like a perfect wind down activity he definitely gets sucked into

■ eyes closed, going to town in making you moan and quiver. like he'd get soo pussy drunk

■ and he's ripping orgasms out of you with no problem, you'll probably have to tell him to stop.

long story short, all 3 absolutely love the fact you're hypersexual and they embrace it :)

[rottenaero]

What if Steve got kicked out of his parent’s house after season 2?

He was already on thin ice after s1, with the beers and his fight with Jonathan, but after he got into ANOTHER fight with Billy they’re just kinda like, ‘pack your shit and leave’

And after a few weeks of living out of his car in the school parking lot, Eddie notices him after Hellfire and just kinda like, offers his house as a place to stay.

Of course Steve is like, ‘nah, ill be fine’ because he doesn’t want to freeload, but Eddie is absolutely not having it and convinces him that he wouldn’t be, and that he can pay him and do chores and shit if he really feels that bad about it.

Then Steve just starts living with him, of course there are rules, don’t invite people over, don’t talk about Eddie’s business, and don’t talk about the shit in his room.

The rest is the standard criteria, don’t bring animals in, don’t burn the house down, blah blah blah.

Course Wayne is a bit mad about this random guy with the last name Harrington at first, but the guy makes him coffee before he leaves for work, and is willing to put on a goddamn sailor costume to pay help pay the rent, so eventually they become acquaintances.

Eventually turning into the two watching sports on the tv and laughing at Eddies antics.

Thing is, during this whole thing, no one knows they live together. Dustin and the party don’t get much more than i moved out with a friend after the first time they ask to hang out at his house, and Hellfire just knows he has a roommate, not that its Steve, because all his shit is in the living room and hes always working when they’re over.

One day, mid-lunch, they decide to hang out at Eddie’s after school and he's all cool with it but is like ‘wait, my roommates off, let me go ask them if its okay’ and they're like ‘sure, okay, I wonder who it is?’

Then he waltzes straight up to Steve Harrington, who’s sitting by Nancy and Jonathan, and asks.

“Hellfires coming over afterschool, you good with that?”

“Yeah sure, do whatever, its your damn house, I can get out your hair if you want?”

“Nah nah, its all good, want you to meet ‘em anyway. Hey hey, wanna sit with us today?”

“Sure.”

Then Eddie heads back to the now silent Hellfire table (actually the whole cafeteria is a little silent) and sits down in his seat, Steve sitting in the empty one next to him.

Hellfire is absolutely confused, not just because Steve lives with him, but because of the very talked upon rumors about Eddie being gay, and how very true they were, and the fact that as a former-king, Steve should know that.

Steve however, seems very unconcerned with those rumors because for as close as Eddie keeps getting to him, even holding his bicep at some point, he acts very chill and relaxed, even leaning into him at some points.

Hellfire eventually calm down, and go to his house after school, and around 10 they decide to just stay the night. Eddie gives them a thumbs up, and turns to Steve.

“You’re bunking with me tonight.”

“Cool.”

Gareth starts panicking because there is a very obvious pride flag above one of his posters and he may not have seen it before and Eddie is so getting beaten up.

Except none of that happens. They wake up early that morning and Steve starts getting ready for work, and is about to leave when he turns to Eddie with a smirk.

“What, no goodbye kiss? Too dorky to do in-front of you friends?” And Eddie strolls right past the flabbergasted Hellfire and plants one on his temple.

“Goodbye o-great-king-of-assholery!”

Gareth quite literally chokes.

(What makes this even better? They’re not even dating, thats just Steve-being-Steve)

Part 2

Ao3

[finelinevogue]

lost n found

summary - you are lost in italy the night before your wedding

pairing: fiancé!harry x reader

word count: ~2k

You were definitely lost.

Drunk and lost.

To: harry - im so sor:(y

From: harry - Baby, you’re fine❤️ Drop me your location and I’ll come find you. Please don’t move xx

To: harry - okaY.i love you xox

So currently you were sat on a stone wall, somewhere on a random side street in a small Italian village, waiting for your boyfriend to come and pick you up.

Harry had gone out with a few of his closest guy friends for drinks, for one last night as an unmarried man.

You and your girls had gone out for drinks too and you had mentioned to the boys that you would catch them up later.

At some point during the evening, though, you and the girls had all gone to the beach and you had gone to the toilet. It had been a trek to find one, only when you tried to find your way back you took so many drunken wrong turns that you couldn’t tell your legs from rights now.

Reading a map was useless, but sending Harry messages wasn’t.

You originally hadn’t wanted to send him any messages, not wanting to ruin his last night a “free” man but at some point you had become a little too lost to care.

Swinging your legs as you sat on the wall, you watched the birds fly overhead amongst the clear blue sky. You detailed all the cracks in the old buildings and counted twelve windows on one wall alone.

Your brain was fuzzy and your eyes kept on wanting to close from tiredness. You would be blaming a lot of your girl friends tomorrow for the continuous passing of shots your way.

Your phone rang in your hand.

“Yeah?” You answered, not even checking the caller ID.

“Baby? Love? Can y’hear me?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not where y’said you’d be.” Harry sounded stressed.

“N-no I am. I sent you my location a-and I haven’t moved.”

You stood up and could feel yourself starting to panic. If Harry didn’t know where you were then there was no way of you knowing. Harry wasn’t ever a big enough drinker to get really drunk, unlike you.

You only ever got drunk when you felt you were in a safe environment, like tonight had been surrounded by all your closest girl friends. Or always with Harry.

Now that you didn’t have anyone and you were still drunk, you were getting anxiety of being alone and intoxicated.

Cue to shaky hands and tears.

“Are y’sure baby?”

“Y-yes. Fuck me. You’re not going to find me. Fuck. I don’t – shit – I.. I’m…”

“Hey, hey. Y/N, baby. Woah, slow down for me, okay? I am coming for you, okay? I just.. It was my mistake and I just need to relocate myself. You’re okay.”

Your phone was shaky in your hands and you started twisting your body around, as if expecting some random creepy guy to come around the corner and take advantage of you.

The twisting didn’t help your head, though, and was making you feel increasingly dizzy and sick.

“Y/N?” Harry asked urgently and you wondered whether you’d missed something he said.

“I-I’m scared.” You honestly said, backing yourself against a wall and trying to let the cool stone calm you down.

Your tears will no doubt have ruined your minimal makeup by now, not that that was a main priority of yours right now.

“Honey, you’re okay. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

Harry sounded like he was running.

His voice sounded a little breathy and you could hear the fast movement of wind through the speakerphone.

“Y/N, love, turn on your data.” Harry said.

“I ran out.” You banged your head back against the wall, not even thinking about the pain that just caused.

You whimpered as you sank down onto the floor, knees tucked close to your chest and arm wrapped around your legs. Your phone was still to your ear, with Harry’s voice being the only sane thing in this moment.

“Okay, okay.” Harry muttered to himself rather than you. More running sounded from Harry’s end of the phone. “Baby, y’still there?”

“Mm.”

Your mind travelled to many worst case scenarios and due to how bad they were your panic only increased.

This was supposed to be your last nights as an unmarried couple and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d ruined that. He must’ve been having such a good night.

You’d seen a couple of photos on his private Instagram story and other people’s Instagram stories. Your fiancé looked divine. He just looked so perfect that it was difficult to believe that he had chosen you and you got to call him yours.

It did make you nearly cry that he was thinking of you, via Instagram, though.

“You feeling okay, baby?” Harry asked.

“Don’t know. I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not angry or upset. Just want to make sure you’re okay, my love.”

“Okay.”

“So you have to be brave for me, okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

You got stuck for a moment, trying to think of possible ways you could calm yourself down and distract yourself. Luckily, Harry was already one step ahead.

“Hey, baby?” He grabbed your attention.

“Yeah.”

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but let the smile take over your face. You weren’t scared at all for tomorrow. You had no nervous jitters. All you felt was love in your heart for your husband to be.

“We are.”

“And you’re going to look so beautiful.”

“So are you.”

“I can’t wait to see you in your wedding dress. I bet it looks so pretty.”

You sniffled, building back your strength and overcoming your anxiety. A lot of your strength came from the love you hold for Harry.

You heard a noise from your left and looked to see a cat rustling through some litter.

Your heart deflated when you realised it wasn’t Harry. You knew he was coming though. He was on his way and he would not stop running until he found you.

It was almost like a bad scene out of a romance movie.

The night before your wedding and something terrible goes wrong. It’s a sign!

“I think it’s just perfectly me.” You said, talking about your wedding dress.

“Sounds perfect to me then.” Harry paused for a moment. “Baby, did you walk under an archway, like, uh, a stone archway covered in pink flowers?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t remember.” You ran a stressed hand over your forehead.

“Okay. That’s okay.”

“Everyone’s going to be so mad at me.” You began getting frustrated with yourself. “Fuck.” You breathed in a sob and exhaled with a bigger breath.

“Promise you no one’s mad, baby. Gem has messaged me a thousand times asking if you’re okay. I can’t even answer ‘cause this bloody maps apps is a fucking nuisance. I swear to–”

“Harry?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up from your knees to check your phone. He was still on the line. “Hello?”

“Y/N!” Harry shouted your name, but not from down the phone.

You could see Harry walking over to you very quickly, clearly panting from having run street after street.

“H.” You dropped your phone and cried as you saw him faster approach you.

Definitely a moment worthy of a romcom.

Harry was probably living his Ryan Gosling dreams.

“Baby, hey. I’m here. You’re okay.” Harry sank down to the floor and scooped his arms around you, pulling you close and squeezing oh so tight.

He sank down to his bum and leaned against the wall, pulling your entirely onto his lap. Too close wasn’t an option right now.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you sat sideways on his lap. Your face was tucked under his chin and his head rested on top of yours. You cried as Harry held you tight.

You couldn’t see Harry’s facial expressions but he was breathing out sighs of relief, some tears in his own eyes from the adrenaline of trying to find you. He had been just as scared as you, but had to remain strong for you. Now he had you he could let it all out.

“You’re never going to the toilet alone again.” Harry laughed. You laughed back.

“Deal.”

“That was scary.” Harry kind of mumbled, but you heard him anyways. He kissed your head a few times and you melted at the feel.

“Harry.”

“Yeah, love?”

“My head is so dizzy.”

Harry used a hand to tilt your head up so he could see your face. He noticed your mascara ridden face first of all, but beneath that you were all beauty.

“Tequila is only our friend for two rounds, remember?” He laughed at you. He was able to tell from your eyes that you weren’t exceedingly drunk, but definitely tipsy.

“I did not remember.”

He nuzzled his nose against yours as he shook his head with a grin. “You’re such a handful, you.”

“M’sorry.” You pouted.

“Never said I didn’t love you as a handful.”

“Do you? Love me a handful?” You used a hand to stroke over his cheek that had gotten so scruffy with the stubble he was trying to grow.

“‘Course. Love you every way and anyway. Love you so much. Love you until my body literally decomposes my wedding ring off my finger, and then some more.”

“That was dark, even for a 2AM drunk thought.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Harry chuckled, noticing that smile on your face becoming more and more permanent.

“But I’ll love you for the same.” You promised.

Harry kissed you then, not wasting another moment of this evening away from you. Well, morning now. His lips were soft against yours and you smiled into the kiss, happy that he was here with you even if it was under really weird circumstances.

“Let’s go, trouble. We’ll go back to the hotel and I’ll kiss you all night.”

“Don’t you want to spend the rest of your night with the boys? You know, last night as a free man?” Even though you were suggesting this, all you actually wanted to do was kiss, kiss and kiss him.

“Free man?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows with disgust, “What are you talking about?”

“You know? People say the last night before they get married is their last chance to be free?”

“Why would I need to be free when I’ve got you? I’m choosing you, like I always have. Never needed to be free.”

You smiled warmly at him. “I’m shackling you to me for life.”

“Too right you are, baby. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Now, take me home, trouble.” You giggled.

“Oh. So I’m the trouble now?”

liked by gemmastyles and 682,928 others

yourinstagram tomorrow i get your last name forever <3 p.s. i would like to state that harry bought himself that tshirt :)

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harryfan1 oh to be y/n l/n

jeffezoff Where did you two go?

harryfan2 moustacherry fans rrIISEEEEE

harryfan3 wish my bf supported me with tshirts like that

jamescorden Tequila anyone?

harrystyles I am planning on wearing that tshirt tomorrow.

yourinstagram @/harrystyles the tshirt but nothing else please

gemmastyles @/jamescorden They aren’t coming back for tequila….

[loveinhawkins]

Steve’s bat bites start to bleed again during the drive out of The War Zone.

It’s a slow realisation, a creeping dampness on his skin.

He stays as still as he can, keeps his movements small and contained when turning the steering wheel; he thinks he mostly gets away with it, manages to park the RV and pitch his voice on just the right side of normal as he tells the kids to scram.

Awareness of his surroundings grows a little fuzzy around the edges, but he senses enough to know that he’s alone—the silence feels heavy, makes his ears ring.

He lifts himself up out of his seat, one hand clinging onto the headrest for balance. The ringing gets sharper, more high-pitched; he shakes his head to try and clear it.

One step forward, then another, and another.

There’s a slight rocking motion under his feet. It feels a little like he’s in a boat that’s docked, constant movement even in the gentlest of waters.

His palms brush against the bathroom door.

“Okay,” Steve whispers to himself.

He hangs onto the sink to keep himself upright—feels the room sway, as if the waters underneath have suddenly become stormy.

With one hand, he finds the knot in the bandage.

“Okay, okay…”

Pulls.

Steve doesn’t think he blacks out, not quite, but there’s a shift, a dizzying tilt… and then, somehow, he’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.

And…

The bat bites must cause hallucinations or something.

Otherwise, Steve cannot explain why Eddie—who notoriously threw up and passed out during a dissection in Biology—is currently pressing a clean bandage against his stomach, staring down at the blood like he can’t look away.

“You’re good, you’re good,” Eddie’s saying.

He’s clearly trying to sound calm, but it’s just coming out strained, like what he really means is this is all a fucking nightmare actually, but we’ve gotta find something to be optimistic about.

“Think it just needs some more pressure,” he goes on. “Yeah, there, see? It’s stopping. Oh, thank God.”

Steve feels more gauze getting wrapped around his middle—if he wasn’t injured, it’d almost be a nice sensation, Eddie’s touch somehow the perfect mix of both firm and gentle.

As he works, Eddie hums nervously.

“Talk to me Harrington,” he says in a shaky sing-song. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, man, gimme some awkward small talk. Got any hopes? Dreams? Anything I should know?

Oh, so many things, Steve thinks, still light-headed.

But then he really does mull that over: his mind goes to The Upside Down, to belatedly telling Eddie about the hive mind, and oh shit.

“Hey, weird question,” Steve says, “but I’ve not been, like, asking you to make it cold in here or, um, anything like that?”

Eddie blinks. “Uh. No?”

“Okay.” Before he lets the relief of hearing Eddie’s answer sink in, Steve adds, “If I ever do, you need to lock me in here and get out. Tell Nancy.”

Eddie’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “Sure. Cool. Cool! Uh, for any particular reason or—?”

“Just in case—like, I don’t feel any different, but—one time, Will Byers, when he was in The Upside Down it, like, infected him? Like a virus. Except more… possession. And they had to kinda… burn it outta him.”

“Ha,” Eddie says. A beat. “Oh fuck, you’re serious.”

“I really don’t have the energy to be messing with you, dude.”

“Sorry. Sometimes you all just say things, y’know? And if I don’t get it, I’m like, well, they’ve been living through this for a while, maybe they’ve got a code going on.”

“I mean,” Steve says, “we kinda do.”

Eddie shakes his head. “So when Buckley said she dealt with a human-flesh-based monster, and the one before that was smoke-related, that wasn’t just, like, a really fucked up metaphor?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, pleading. “Please say it was a metaphor.”

“Sorry,” Steve says sincerely.

Eddie sighs through a lacklustre chuckle. “You’re fine, Steve. As for, uh, being possessed, I don’t think so. You’re no weirder than usual, but—”

“Wow, thanks. Means such a lot coming from you.”

“—you were a bit, like, out of it for a few seconds, but it just looked like you were gonna faint on me. Um. How’re you feeling now?”

“Good,” Steve says. When Eddie raises an eyebrow, he tacks on, “As good as I can be, I guess. Still.” He groans slightly as he stands, goes back over to the sink. “Better check.”

“Check? What?”

Steve runs the water as hot as it will possibly go, until the steam is evident. He sticks his hand right into the stream, hears Eddie hiss as the water scalds his skin.

“Okay, yup. Not possessed.”

“Fucking fantastic. Now I want it cold,” Eddie says.

He takes control of the faucet, nods for Steve to put his hand under the now cold water.

After a minute or two, Eddie sighs and collapses onto the toilet seat himself.

There’s a squeak as Steve turns the faucet off—his skin’s probably not had the good of the cold water for nearly long enough, but it’ll do.

Eddie’s tipped his head back so he’s facing the ceiling, eyes closed. Steve watches him with sympathy; he really must hate blood.

“Eddie. You can go.”

“Mm, nope,” Eddie says without opening his eyes. “I’m fine right here.”

“Suit yourself.”

Steve turns back to the sink, frowns at the tiny mirror above it; there’s black spots on the glass, but he can make out enough. Christ, the bags under his eyes are horrific.

“Relax, Casanova,” Eddie says, almost as if he’s heard Steve’s thoughts. “You look good.”

“Uh-huh. Think your brain’s fried from being on the run.”

Steve leans against the sink with one hip, finds Eddie looking at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, probably. Or maybe being on the run just suits you.” Eddie’s eyes flicker down. His smile falters. “You know, in an ideal world,” he says conversationally, “you’d be in a hospital getting stitches.”

Steve scoffs. “In an ideal world, I’d be in bed sleeping.”

“Amen to that,” Eddie says lightly. But he still looks sombre. “Seriously, though. If it gets… you know. I’d drive you.”

“To the hospital? What are you gonna do, Eddie, wander up to the front desk? Sounds like a real interesting way to get arrested.”

But Eddie doesn’t leap at the chance to make a joke.

“Steve,” he says softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t care.”

“That would sorta ruin the whole priority of hiding you.”

“That’s—” Eddie huffs. “That’s not the priority.”

“Huh, that’s funny, cause it is in my book.” Steve nods at the door, to his whole world just outside. “One of many.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow. “And your name better be right at the top, Harrington.”

Steve hums.

“In bold. Underlined.”

“Whatever you say.”

Eddie groans quietly, runs a hand down his face. “You worry me, man.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“I know. Just…” Eddie hesitates. “Don’t go off alone. You know?”

Steve thinks it over. He steps forward and offers Eddie his hand.

Eddie takes it.

When Steve pulls him up, he stumbles a little, as if he feels like he’s on a boat, too.

“Oops, sorry.” He grabs onto Steve’s forearm for balance. “Think this should be the other way round, man.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so.”

Steve leads the way out of the bathroom—doesn’t mention the fact that, really, they’re both holding each other up.

There’s a bottle of water left in the back. Steve twists the cap off. Drinks.

“You too,” he tells Eddie.

“Huh?”

Steve considers him—thinks of the little flare of panic he felt when watching Eddie walk through the woods, tiptoeing around vines. How he had a sudden instinct to catch up to him, to make sure he wasn’t alone.

“I’m making a deal,” Steve says. “I won’t go off alone if you don’t.”

He lifts the bottle up as if making a toast—drinks again then passes it over to Eddie.

For the slightest of moments, their fingers brush; Eddie’s rings skim over Steve’s knuckles.

“So what’s this?” Eddie asks. “Legally binding magical water?”

Steve shrugs. “Cool metaphor,” he replies.

You say you just turn heel and run, Eddie. But sometimes I think if there was a fire, you’d run towards the flames if it meant no-one else got hurt.

Eddie smiles. Tilts the bottle towards Steve.

“Guess it’s a promise, then,” he says.

He drinks.

Steve prays that it holds.

[sunderwight]

Okay, concept:

Luo Binghe grew up very poor prior to arriving to QJP. And when he first got to QJP, he was ostracized and neglected. So there are probably a lot of phrases, terms, and ideas that he didn't know were things until SY arrived and started actually teaching him. Right? So the bulk of what he did learn, he learned directly from Shen Yuan's own slightly messy attempts to fake ancient scholarly credentials.

Plus, QJP is supposed to be the peak of scholars and well-read, fancy intellectuals, and YQY probably also doesn't know shit about most of that stuff (having also been a former illiterate street child) and of course is incredibly predisposed to take Shen Qingqiu's side on virtually anything. Especially something frivolous or linked to their shared past, such as someone, say Qi Qingqi, accusing Shen Qingqiu of making up a literary reference or "gibberish" word. If something Shen Qingqiu says is something no one else seems to know, that just proves he's more worldly and well-read than the rest of his peers. Also, Shang Qinghua will probably know it, and despite his many (many) character flaws, Shang Qinghua reads a lot too. There's really very little to convince a former street child turned Demon Emperor whose former education began and ended with Shen Qingqiu specifically and Meng Mo (wildly out-of-touch with human culture anyway) to suspect that some of the difficult-to-source references his master makes really have no worldly source (in this world).

So Luo Binghe, in his quest to become as knowledgeable of all things about his shizun and keep up with him as well as possible, and maybe also put down some arguments he's overheard once and for all, eventually gets annoyed because CLEARLY there is a wealth of cultural knowledge contemporary to Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua that didn't survive to his own generation. His efforts at hunting down all the sources being referenced and origins of certain philosophical ideas or terminology keep coming up empty in certain departments. He's been over the entire QJP library with a fine-tooth comb, but QJP focuses on things pertaining to cultivation, history, and knowledge. Obviously, there are gaps. The archives are unlikely to keep pop cultural references and lowbrow literature, and Luo Binghe begins to suspect (from what tastes his master seems to share with his shishu) that that is that actual source he's missing.

The trashy yellow books and romance literature of their generation! Bawdy poems and lewd artworks so on! Heck, that's probably even where the shared "code" (bad English) comes into play -- disciples are always trying to sneak forbidden material past their teachers and smuggle naughty books into the dormitories. Knowing Shizun and Shang Qinghua, Luo Binghe honestly wouldn't be surprised if the two of them were racketeering that shit in their own disciple days. Shang Qinghua acquiring materials, Shen Qingqiu acquiring buyers, both of them making their extra spending money off of secretly supplying Cang Qiong's population with contraband fiction and art.

Also, that would explain why both Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua get flustered and refuse to elaborate if someone asks them what this or that strange turn of phrase refers to. Shen Qingqiu has a very thin face for actually discussing erotica, and Shang Qinghua doesn't like being caught doing illegal shit.

Luo Binghe desperately needs access to trash lit that's older than he is. However, most of that stuff is not printed to last, and turning it up is like trying to find old Spirk zines without the internet.

Shang Qinghua, the obvious go-to source, also seems to not really have anything that old anymore (intimidating him is laughably easy, if he had anything he would have coughed it up by the second or third time Luo Binghe asked and frowned at the same time), and if Shen Qingqiu did have anything he wouldn't want to be questioned about it. Asking too much might even get it destroyed in an act of excessive embarrassment.

Which means there is just one other person Luo Binghe knows who might be able to lead him to some sources. One other person he is absolutely, 100% certain was extensively reading trashy literature around the same time that Shizun was a young man. Someone who would know where to go to even begin looking for it.

Luo Binghe is going to have to ask Tianlang Jun for help with something.

[avenshine]

troublemaker, i love the trouble! + ( hsr men )

requested! | what happens when you simply cannot stay out of trouble, and you feel like it’s becoming too much for your boyfriend?

warnings: hurt/comfort. never write for argenti/boothill before and written before his release, possibly ooc for both. longer than usual, please enjoy! <3

while he admires you, argenti simply cannot fathom how you always manage to get in trouble. even if you’re not always the start of it. it doesn’t bother him saving you, but it seems to get to you, a lot. no matter how many times he assures you it’s fine, you feel guilty. you apologize, and he understands — it’s fine, he insists. he sets up a cute dinner date for the both of you one day, trying to really help you see that everything is fine between you both.

dr ratio feels a little different towards this. while he understands things come with troubles, he would constantly quote “it’s more trouble than it’s worth”, he tries to not mean it too harshly, he wishes you could stay out. and at some point, you start to feel a little upset with that, feeling as if you’re bothering him. and of course, he picks up on this. he starts with an apology, “i’m sorry, i know you can’t help it; i’ll do my best to be more cautious of my words.

being a member of the ipc, aventurine knows the feeling of trouble following wherever you go. so he’ll try his best to get you out of it, or even try to be there to prevent it, but of course he gets busy with his work — so it’s not always possible. he does make sure to reassure you that you’re not bothering him by getting in trouble, as long as you can make sure, almost like a promise, you stay safe, he’ll do the same.

sunday is simply just concerned, constantly asking how you get into this, or that. and when you explain it, he sighs softly, wanting to just put you in bubble wrap or something, cause in the end, he just doesn’t want to see his precious angel hurt. as of recently though, you feel like you’ve been causing too much trouble around him, and that it’s a bother, and voice this to him. he immediately wraps you into a tight hug, kissing your forehead. he whispers to you, “my sweetest angel, you’re never a bother. i can promise, no, guarantee it, just please stay safe, okay? that’s my main concern.”

for his absolute darling, boothill will create the trouble with you (given it’s safe), he simply cannot help it, it’s the most fun he’s had in a while! at some point though, he stops. and you figure it’s because he’s tired of you as a whole, which is simply not the case. it isn’t until he pulls you aside, asking you if you were upset with him & many things along those lines. you shake your head, and he’s immediately comforted. but when you ask him in turn if he’s upset with you and that’s why he doesn’t wanna create trouble anymore, he repeats you, shaking his head before speaking. “my darling cutie, i just felt like stopping, but if you wanna, and it would make you feel better, we can stir some up right now!”

[anantaru]

DAY 5 — APHRODISIACS

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — sampo, jing yuan

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, aphrodisiacs, lots of teasing, big men being sweet and content with you, fingering, handjob, very sweaty but cute

𖧡 — SAMPO

sampo finds himself entranced by the beauty of your eyes, and you can see it in the light of his mannerism when he, well— when his face starts glistening red, a kind of blushing that shows the real intentions of a human, a sort of compliment to the eyes and the delicate sweetness within his facial expression was like a chain reaction setting your blood on fire.

if only those particular emotions haven't been enhanced by the stimulant you swallowed together just a second ago.

sampo sighs across your cheeks while you're fondling around with the belt of his pants, his own grip on you dissolving of strength; he was either growing tired, which was unlikely, or the love potion was already in effect. you're for certain when you reach inside his pants to feel his erection throb on your palm, the twitch of his cock signaling you that sampo was on the verge of it, already— his girth hard and the slit glinting of his pre while you're stroking up and down the skin in slow thrusts.

"isn't that fun, baby?" you coo at him, closing your eyes before mouthing a wet spot on his neck, listening to sampo attempting to stabilize his breathing, yet how was he able to achieve that when you're rounding your hand around his erection in an unforgiving pace, desperately pressing closer into your hand until you're discerning an echo of small, hasty "please, please... more."

but, what you didn't know was that the usual confident and flashy man wouldn't let you take control of him that easily, and he tips a hand over to your thighs right after, while your legs— and that wasn't surprising to him at all, rubbed together for the life of them, thrusting up into nothing but air while you're fisting his cock to make him cum, almost tipping him over the edge of a tasteful climax when it was you who was suffering from not being touched and pleased.

but sampo, your sweet boyfriend, he has got you, okay? and his hand slips off your body before finding your wet core, in particular wrapping inside the hem of your pants before slipping his hand down, his mouth flooding with saliva at the trace of your liquids gushing on his digits. you're leaning back now, your hand working and becoming faster while one digit prods at your soaked slit, circling around your hole before letting himself naturally be engulfed into you.

by now, you're leaning your entire weight against sampo's broad chest, becoming tired and your poor head, it feels heavy on your shoulders when you're moving around, his sweet gaze lingering on your trembling skin that it hits him low in the gut, your pussy was so wet and easily effected by his fingers pressing into your sweet spots, quickly slipping another in to feel how you're stretching, becoming tighter and gushing of your slick.

there was nothing else to say, you're only whining, blindsided by the finely tuned electric shuffles on your core, clearly ignoring the side effects of the aphrodisiac wrecking havoc inside your frame as you slobber all around his digits, a direct similarity to the tightness of your own grip on his aching cock.

𖧡 — JING YUAN

oh, what a way with words jing yuan possessed;

the lightheadedness is only temporarily, i promise. and with a great sense of security embedded on his words, the man mutters and assures your bottled up worries before you're nodding your head all eager, quite willing to try out the love potion in his hand.

the general made a noise of satisfaction before placing the stimulant on top of your tongue, he's so excited he feels like he's about to jump out of his boots, groaning with anticipated pleasure when you close your mouth right after to swallow it down, all obedient for him, fluttering your lashes shyly— if only you knew that those reactions had his heart rushing under his ribcage, it was so sickly sweet of you, he could honestly just pepper you with kisses for eternity.

"how do you feel?" jing yuan murmurs against your parted lips craving for air, truly he was enraptured by your delicate movements, his thumb pressing just over your chin, forcing you to gaze up at him.

"i feel good, a little hot though." and you wrap your arms around his neck for stability before you feel how one of his hands snake down your body— your stomach to be more precise, as jing yuan quietly wiggles his hand in between your panties.

those mewls, your obscene sounding winces, he could drink in all your noises like a fine, old wine and be pleased by the feeling of becoming tipsy right afterwards, smirking all heavenly when you're pulling him closer before he ghosts his first digit over your slit, tapping on it— once, twice, just one more time to make it leak from the attention.

he can remember how you're always whining about how his cock was too big for you and that the scorching stretch on your hole was almost more pain than pleasure, yet he remembers to prep you before giving you the real deal, splitting your pussy when he leans in to go straight to your mouth, catching your lower lip in between his teeth before suckling on it.

at the second, once he adds another finger, you wince at the little burn in your core and jing yuan cannot help himself but groan into your mouth, the deep, rumbling tone vibrating across your body, leaving you no other choice but to lean forward and thaw yourself into his frame, humping his fingers almost as if in heat, your lips thrumming to catch up on air with your pussy prickling at his touch, the materials of your panties almost sheer from sweat when he realizes just how wetter you were tonight.

jing yuan pauses his hand to think for a moment, and you whine out weakly at the loss of his movements once he realizes that you might be able to take his dripping cock a little earlier tonight.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify