#and using so many words for such a little thing

[sp0o0kylights]

Eddie was all about desecrating corpses. 

Particularly, the huge ones--and nothing was larger than the burnt out husk of Starcourt. 

Yellow caution tape, muddied and ripped from its time in the weather still decorated parts of the doors. 

The place used to be crawling with security, but that had eased off now, the job returning to a local outfit rather than the smooth and swift guards who previously haunted the joint in pairs. 

It was easy as two days spent camped out in his van, watching the main entrance and a few side doors. In no time at all, Eddie had schedules memorized, points of entry selected and even three possible escape routes should things get dicey.

He didn't expect them to. 

Not when he’d already rolled his checks and came up with a number that, were this an actual D&D game, would make him a happy man. 

It was always a point of contention between him and his Pa. This perception. The natural ability he had that good ‘ol dad just didn’t seem to possess. 

The one that made him patient long enough to get a feel for a gig. 

To know instinctively how hard a job might be, and how to go about doing it safely. 

(Eddie personally doesn't believe much of it is talent. Thinks it is in fact, forcibly learned, due to the nature of his upbringing. 

Grandma and Grandpa Munson, bless their dead, departed souls, had at least given something of a shit. Tried to keep family things family and work things work, even when said work was illegal as it gets. 

They understood things like appearance and public reputation. 

How that kept the pigs off your back and food on your table.)

His Pa had never cared for any of that. 

Eddie didn’t grow up with family meals, or even food in the house let alone on the table. He grew up watchful, forced to learn or take a hit meant for an adult in the process. To weigh the risks against the benefits, and how to charm the pants off an unsuspecting target while doing so. 

It was how he’d escaped his own prison sentence when his Pa finally got eyes too big for his abilities.

Eddi had gotten lucky in that situation. 

Or rather--he’d gotten Wayne. 

Wayne, who gave up his own room, his own bed, for his nephew. Had bought him his sweetheart on his sixteenth birthday and a van on his eighteenth. Both things were used, and a little battered around the edges, and Eddie had almost thrown up the day he accidentally found out Wayne had used his life savings for the damn car, but they were above and beyond anything he had any right too. 

Eddie would be damned without him. 

But he knows his uncle needs help. 

Can't pay for himself and Eddie. Never really could, and so has been giving his nephew literally everything he has in an effort to make up for it until Eddie could help pay his way. 

Not that a singular soul would trust a teenage Munson with such a precious thing as a part time job, and so Eddie had turned to the familiar. 

The mall fire, and the resulting flood of federal agents had really put a damper on his income the past few months. Drugs were risky, and getting riskier with them sniffing about, and things were getting tight again in a way they hadn’t in a long, long time. 

(All it had taken was finding the hidden stack of bills. 

Big ol’ words stamped in red topped every one. Bold letters screaming ‘Overdue’ and ‘Payment Missed’ and ‘Late Fees.’ 

One single letter had panicked Eddie more than any other, the one that clearly said Wayne had been talking to the payday loan place down the street, and he’d be damned if his shortcomings made his Uncle willingly walk into a debt pit so few climbed out of.) 

Growing up like he had, Eddie was trusted in certain circles. Had access to places many didn't as his sole inheritance, because he was known.

 Someone who didn't rat, who could be trusted with given tasks. Who kept to the criminal code, and was good about not backstabbing you if caught.

He’d hit up a few old connections, dropped some hints. Put out “feelers” as one might say. 

Got a nibble and soon enough, Eddie was back in business, getting called up and offered a few small tasks for decent dough. 

Sometimes it was fetching information. 

Sometimes it was ferrying an item.

Today, it was a retrieval.

There was something someone wanted in the ruins of Starcourt--and they were offering an insane amount of money to get it.  

The plans hadn't made sense, not at first. The instructions Eddie had been given sounded outlandish, if not outright total bunk. 

Like the existence of a multi level basement under Starcourt? How the hell had no one caught that being built? 

Or that the security systems down there could possibly still be turned on? After four months? 

Who was even paying for it? 

Eddie had heard stupider things though, and the pay for this little jaunt was good. Too good to pass up. 

"They want a local in case something happens and the rescue squad comes running in. That way, it's just a little trespassing fun. The town deviant getting his kicks in the big scary mall, and not what they think it is." His connection had told him, meeting with Eddie in a Mcdonalds the town over. 

The place had a play palace, big enough to host a number of screaming rugrats. It made for a great cover as they pretended to be just two men in overalls, getting burgers on their lunch. 

Not a soul could hear a sound over the kids screaming, and if a blueprint sat between them then, well, if it looks like a maintenance worker, and it talks like a maintenance worker…

People never did look twice.

"And what else exactly would they think this is?" Eddie asked, munching on the food he got for free as part of even entertaining the offer. 

"A retrieval, Double D." 

Eddie hated that nickname.

"Some rich kid bit it in the fire, and his parents are paying out top dollar to get a few of his things, seein’ as the feds wouldn’t let anybody back in after they condemned the place." The guy, whose name was Mickey said. 

He idly traced a finger along the lines of the blueprint, the path he was wanting Eddie to take. 

(The path Eddie would later ignore, on grounds that it was going to get him caught.) 

 “Specifically a signet ring and car keys.”

“Car keys?” Eddie had asked, mostly in a bid for more information. Mickey was the kind of guy you could breadcrumb into giving more information than he intended to, if one played their cards right.

And Eddie was a damn good poker player. 

“Yup. Goes to a BMW--which they want you to drive to a safe place. Parents think he lost it somewhere around,” Mickey’s finger stopped, before tapping the blueprint twice. “Here.”

Something had niggled in the back of Eddie’s head. The first whispers of recognition, of a fact that he knew something about this--something he couldn’t yet recall. 

He wasn’t stupid enough to ignore it. 

“Who's the kid?” He’d asked. 

Mostly because he was curious, partially because it was a way to ease in the real questions he wanted to ask.

Like what a rich kid was doing four levels down in Starcourt the night of the fire. 

“Does it matter?” Mickey said, but dug into his pockets anyway. Retrieved a little 2 by 3 wallet photo, done in the traditional High School Picture Day style. 

He’d tossed it on the table, and Eddie didn’t react. 

Kept his face perfectly blank, even as his stomach contracted and his breath caught in his chest. 

Carefully pulled the picture to him, to make a show of examining it. 

“Don’t know him.” He lied after a moment, fighting to get his breathing back under control before Mickey figured out what was up. 

“Told you it didn’t matter. What matters is that you get the shit. And hey, while you’re down there…” 

Mickey talked a bit more, and idly, Eddie listened. He knew this little B&E was going to have more components than just retrieving a few things. Had long figured out that this entire front of retrieving “some rich kids keys” was just that--a front. 

Word on the street was that Starcourt was hiding something--something a lot of very powerful people were getting increasingly interested in. He’d rolled his eyes when he caught wind of the first little rumblings, the rumors and whispers that the thing was shrouded in Government secrets and conspiracies, but hadn’t been able to ignore the shit that had come after. 

Likely, the people who had hired him and Mickey understood they had to act now, before someone else did, to see if anything worthwhile was actually down there. 

The real question is why the hell they were using Steve Harrington’s death to do it--when Eddie knew for a fact that Steve Harrington was alive. 

Or alive as anyone could be, at two am at a Shell gas station. 

“Alright.” Eddie said finally, pulling the blueprint towards himself before rolling it up, making sure to casually roll up Harrington’s picture with it. “You got me interested. Half up front and I’m in.”

Mickey grinned at him. “Knew you would be, kid.” 

One hand shake and a hefty envelope later, and Eddie found himself on the way to Starcourt on his very first stakeout. 

It was that first initial look that confirmed it--Harrington’s prized BMW was in fact, still sitting in the parking lot.

Abandoned by rich assholes who absolutely could have paid to have it towed.

Which led to a domino effect of stakeouts, late nights and confrontations, up to and including his present position, counting down the minutes before he could break into Starcourt.

“Ready?” He murmured, and one could be forgiven for thinking he was talking to himself given how quietly he said it.

They would be wrong. 

“Yeah.” The not-so-dead rich kid drawled from the passenger seat.

Eddie tossed a grin at Harrington, who rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Come on, Stevie.” He purred. “Let’s go find out who impersonated your parents, and why they want that ring you supposedly own so badly.” 

“Honestly dude I just want my car back.” 

“That too.” 

[demieyesore]

Flirtatious - Sam Monroe

Summary - Sam has been stalking you for a while now, but he didn't realize that you knew. Or at least had a suspicion; until you started behaving in a more playful way, despite no one being around.

Warnings / Mentions - Fem!Pronouns for reader, AFAB!Reader, Stalker!Sam, Kind of Delusional Reader but she is right...reader is mentioned to have younger siblings (brothers), panty kink, cockwarming, masturbation, unprotected PIV, little bit of aftercare, Sam does slap her at one point

A/N - Yes ik ik...fem pronouns for once in a fic LMFAO, mainly because someone requested a male reader/masc fic earlier and I plan on writing that and I didn't want to like...make it uneven if that makes any sense.

Requested - Not my request, but you can find it linked here

Word Count - ...5k...

Tag List - @vixxensvoid @maevesversion @sockiess @stylesslytherinskywalker @myheadhurtscutely @yourenogoodforme @gallerygourmet @heartsforanakin @helendeath @ysrjune @anisangeldust @catnipaddictt @ahano @itachicha @02ibiskywitt05 @espinathena-17

Sam was many things. The school's outcasted "emo". A disappointment to his parents. A drug addict. Weird. He was just misunderstood.

People always treated him differently, making sure to purposefully exclude him from activities as a child. Maybe that's why he liked you so much.

You weren't by any means popular. You knew people but you were pretty quiet. Like you had so much to say but never knew how to put them into words without embarrassing yourself. You just kind of hung around people. They weren't quite what you would call friends since you didn't hang out with anyone after school except maybe your cousin.

Sam never understood how people didn't flock to you; like how a moth is drawn to a flame. You were so fucking pretty. He always thinks about how you two met. It was like a meet cute. But in reality you didn't really think of him after it happened, it was kind of...one sided.

You were out with your cousin, it was summer so you were wearing jean shorts and a cute little tank top. Your hair was pushed out of your face and you had jewelry on. The kind that makes your skin look so radiant.

Sam was forced out of the house by his mother and step-family. He was also wearing a tank of his own. It was pure black just like his dyed hair, except the blue streak that ran through it. His face was adorned with multiple piercings.

You and your cousin were at an ice cream shop, she asked for a chocolate and vanilla twist in a cone. Your order was in a bowl because you despised the mess of a cone, but you still managed to get one of those waffle bowls. The two of you were sat by the koi fish pond at the ice cream shop, kicking your feet as you sat on the little stools nearby.

Your eyes drifted over to Sam, you recognized him from school. Your cousin's eyes followed and smiled a little when she saw him, taking a lick of her ice cream before looking back at you.

"Know him?" She asked with a stupid grin on her face. She knew what your type was, although you never really had a boyfriend. You only ever talked about the nerdy boys from tv shows you liked. Or the so called "weird" boys.

"Yeah, or well...kind of?" You questioned yourself as you answered her question. "He's from my school, I've never talked to him. Not many people have." You finalized, taking a scoop of your ice cream and dipping the spoon into your mouth.

"How come you've never mentioned him? I thought you liked guys with that whole...alternative thing going on?" She tilted her head before sending a glance at Sam. He took notice and his eyebrow raised slightly which made you hit her shoulder to stop looking.

Sam was standing in line behind his mom, waiting for her to decide what she wanted from the little parlor. His eyes raked over you while you looked away from embarrassment.

"Vixx, shut up, now he's looking at us..." You groaned, turning to face the fish. Watching as they swam by, just feet away.

"Aren't they so pretty?" You ask, staring as their fins glide through the water. Vixxen, your cousin, on the otherhand wasn't aware you turned away and were talking about the koi fish.

She maneuvered her head a little bit, Sam no longer observing them as he was handed his ice cream. "Are you talking about his ass?" She casually asked as she leaned in, squinting.

You immediately spun your head towards her, giving yourself whiplash. You practically shrieked as you whisper shouted at her.

After a couple more awkward minutes, You and Vixxen got a little bored; having already finished eating your ice cream. You dusted yourself off as you stood, swiping at the grime that coated your jeans from the old rickety stools. You started walking ahead of Vixx, swiftly noticing that she was lagging behind. You twirled your body around, facing your cousin as you walked backwards. Vixxen was texting on her phone, probably posting some off putting comment about her celebrity crush on tumblr.

"Vixx, come on! Hurry up alr-" And then you got cut off.

Remember how I said this was a meet cute? Remember how you were walking backwards? Yeah, you see where this is going, don't you?

You crashed into something, stumbling to the ground. You tilted your head back to look at what you ran into. Sam was standing there, his back being what you previously walked into. But now he was looking over his shoulder at you. One of his hands up by his ear and holding a little wired earbud. He looked startled for a second before his emotionless facade came back up.

His mom basically yelled at him to help you up, so he did just that. But not without rolling his eyes. "Good?" He lazily asks when you get to your feet. You're a bit confused while you observe him checking over you. His hands were placed on your upper arms, close to your shoulders while he twisted your body, inspecting it to make sure you weren't hurt.

Honestly, he didn't really care all that much but he knew he'd probably get in trouble for not being "Gentlemen like".

You're probably wondering how this led to him stalking you. To him being so fucking obsessed with you that it consumed him whole.

You apologized and moved on with your day, although you were still embarrassed from the interaction. Sam, however, could not get it out of his mind. He saw the way you and who he assumed was a friend or family member were very obviously looking and talking about him. But he ignored it in favor of the fact that he's alternative. Everyone at his damned high school would stare at him, in fact he's pretty sure you're one of them.

A couple of weeks later, you both met again. You and your family were unloading a U-Haul in front of your new home, just a few houses down from where Sam lived. Of course, the both of you had no idea until your mom invited Sam's family over for dinner. Something about how your mom made a new friend in the neighborhood and she mentioned having a son the same age as you.

Only then at the dinner, the awkward tension was felt. You both immediately recognized each other, and his mother also brought up the thing from the ice cream parlor.

Afterwards, Sam still couldn't get you out of his mind. He definitely thought you were attractive but it was so stupid to him, he didn't even know you. He couldn't trust you until he knew more.

But then it became an obsession. At first, it was just walking past your house, using the excuse of going outside because his mom kept complaining about how pale he is. He'd walk past your house with his headphones plugged in, blasting whatever punk shit he listens to. He'd keep his eyes forward to not look suspicious; but from his peripheral vision, he would take notes on what you were doing.

Some days you were outside, wearing jean shorts and a bikini top, a pair of y2k looking flipflops while holding a water-gun. You'd be hanging out with your little brothers, sometimes Sam wished that his step-brothers were friends with your brothers. It'd be a lot easier to get to know you if he actually could talk to you.

Other times you were helping your mom garden, complaining the whole time about not liking the texture of the dirt, or how hot it was outside.

Sometimes you would just sit on the front porch, scrolling on your phone.

Sam knew it would be weird if he only ever went outside when you were out. So he had to settle on a schedule and just pray you were actually outside at the time of his, now daily, walks.

Then he started to sneak out at night, creeping over to your house so he could see what you were up to. He wanted to get to know your night-time routine. Always justifying his stalker like behavior by telling himself that he was just trying to learn more about you. Just trying to see if you're actually compatible like he was secretly hoping.

He'd watch as you get out of your personal bathroom, always thinking to himself about how lucky you were to get your own. Especially when you have younger siblings. He'd observe from your window as you would open your dresser drawer and pull out a pair of pajamas. They were a matching top and bottom that had "Juicy" printed on the backside. Sam thought it was fitting with how often he finds himself staring at your ass. Sam was always making unnecessary comments in his mind. Sometimes, he'd bring a journal with him to write down all the information just so he wouldn't forget.

He would watch you play videogames, draw, post on social media, everything. Sam would jot down every album and artist he saw in your room, hoping that he at least listens to one of them. This was all just research...

His stalking got so bad that he even installed cameras. How? Obviously he snuck in through your window one night when you were at a sleepover. He hid one in a teddy bear that you always kept on your shelf, hid one in your closet, and one by your desk. He had to make sure they weren't noticeable. But once he felt it was good enough, he left.

Summer was passing by and school was starting back up soon. Sam was honestly really excited; not because of all the bullying that'll probably happen to him but because if he finds out who your friends are, he can easily learn more about you.

Sometimes you and Sam would see each other while outside and say a quick hello, but most of the time he kept to himself.

Finally when school does start, he realizes how easy it'll be to stalk you. Research you, I mean. He didn't think that you'd both share so many classes. He also didn't anticipate you trying to become his friend, like at all. And it was only after a couple of weeks.

Sam was sat leaning against a tree, his eyes closed with his headphones on. It was lunch and you were sitting with some people, although these weren't your friends. You had just met Alyssa and were trying to bond with her so you could hang out after school. The table Alyssa and her friends sat at was so very close to where Sam was sitting.

He just looked so pretty, and all you wanted to do was walk up to him and talk to him. So you finally worked up the courage to do it.

"I like your makeup." You said meekly, worried he wouldn't hear you with his headphones on. Sam saw the lighting change with his eyes close so he opened them. His eyebrows raising in shock when he saw you, only to go back to his stoic facade. He moved one of the muffs from over his ear so he could hear you. "Hm?" He hummed in acknowledgment to your presence.

"Your makeup, I like it." You gestured to his eyelids, which were coated in guyliner and black eyeshadow. "Thanks.." Sam said awkwardly, he didn't know what to really say to that.

"Can I sit here?" You questioned, pointing to the empty space next to him. He nodded hesitantly but at least you were talking to him.

The both of you talked throughout the lunch period, you had asked him about the music he likes which he happily told you about.

A couple weeks later and you and Sam are hanging out pretty often. Maybe once or twice a week, plus seeing and talking to each other at school. Surely he didn't need to keep watching you if he was only doing it to learn about you. I mean, now he can ask you...but Sam didn't want to stop. He liked being able to see who you were when no one else was around.

Weeks of being friends, turned to months. Sam was basically your best friend at this point. He was coming over almost everyday and if not, you were probably going to his. You noticed that he preferred hanging at your house, you assumed it was because he was embarrassed about his room. You knew that it was a huge mess and had always smelled like weed. But in actuality, Sam was constantly anxious when you came over.

Worried that you'd see the pictures he's taken of you on his phone, or even the polaroid's he has hidden under his bed. Terrified that you'd see your missing panties in his sock drawer. Nervous that you'd snoop and read his journal where he has all the written proof needed to probably put him in jail. Every little thing in his room, you could probably trace back to you if you tried hard enough. His CD rack that holds all of his albums? Some of the disks have been switched out, instead are hard copies of Sam sneaking into your room at night. His favorite one, the one he watches most, is a video where he slept over at your house. You were passed out after staying up for way too long.

The video just plays a recording of Sam kneeling on the edge of your bed, watching the rise and fall of your chest as he palmed himself through his boxers. His jeans unzipped and resting around his hips loosely.

His lip bitten raw and red as he holds back his moans and whimpers. He couldn't touch you...he wouldn't. Told himself how wrong it was. But he figured it was fine if he only used your hand to get off, right?

The video has horrible graphic quality, no good lighting being used in the video except the moonlight from your window. His hand wrapped around yours as he uses you to jerk himself off. He stopped multiple times, anytime he was about to cum.

He just couldn't cum in your room, not like this at least. All he wanted, scratch that, needed to do was edge himself. The most blissful torture to him.

Sam's creepy and pervy behavior soon became apparent to you. He had been over at your house to help you with your homework. He went to use your bathroom, telling you that he'd be right back.

Before he had left for the bathroom, he handed you his notes. Except they weren't the right ones. Silly little Sam, always doing stupid things. You rolled your eyes, unzipping his backpack to look for the correct notes. You shuffle around his compartments but accidentally stumble across a cloth that's such a familiar color. You pick up the lilac purple fabric, turning it over and over just to make sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you.

Your underwear. It was a pair of your underwear. These ones hadn't even gone missing yet, you just changed out of them earlier when you got home. You stared in utter bafflement for a couple of seconds. Quickly shoving them back into the pocket and zipping it back up when Sam came back into the room. You noticed how he paused for a moment, his eyes widening.

"What are you doing?" His face went back to it's nonchalant expression, something that always made you nervous. You couldn't read him like this.

"You gave me the wrong notes, Sammy..." You bit the side of your cheek, pretending not to have seen anything as you continue to rummage through his bag.

"I got it, don't worry.." Sam pressured, guiding you by your hips so you'd go back to where you had previously been seated before. You refused to let him know that you saw what he had stolen. You probably should have but something else was nagging at the back of your mind.

You weren't crazy. You weren't insane for feeling like something was wrong all this time. You knew that your panties had been going missing. But you just tricked yourself into believing that the washer or dryer was eating them. You always felt like you were being watched. Even when by yourself. It was like your gut just knew, but it wasn't like you were seeing someone following you around. Just little things here and there that set you off.

You decided that it was time to do an experiment. If Sam really has been watching you this whole time. Then you were gonna expose him for it. You were gonna make it so hard for him to not do something about it.

Over the course of two weeks, you decided to tease him. Purposefully changing in your room, directly in view of the window; not yet aware of the cameras. Showering with your bathroom door open, something you could do anytime you wanted since the restroom was inside your bedroom.

Making sure to bend over and arch your back anytime you dropped something.

Randomly stretching throughout the day. Wearing your most revealing clothes while just in your room.

Masturbating without the blankets covering you. Making sure to moan Sam's name whenever your family wasn't home.

Doing every little thing possible to make him snap or break. If he didn't then damn, the embarrassment would never leave you. But thankfully, he did crack.

You were once again, home alone. Your parents were out on date night, it was the weekend and your younger siblings were at a friends house.

You were sick and tired of trying to catch Sam doing something, anything, that could prove he was stalking you. Maybe you were just being paranoid. But then again, what mentally well person would have stolen your dirty underwear? You didn't even want to know what he was doing with them, but you had a few guesses.

This time you wanted to do something more risky. You were gonna call Sam and touch yourself while on the phone with him. If he truly was watching you, there was no way he would let that slide.

You tugged your pj shorts down your frame, going to sit at your desk chair. Your phone was laid on top of the desk charging. You decided to get yourself in the mood first, watching a couple of porn videos you liked on your laptop. Imagining that it was Sam instead. Even if he was stalking you, you still did have a crush on him, for a while now. And you doubted that it would change all that much even if he is being a fuckin' weirdo. It honestly kind of turned you on more.

You toy with your clit through the fabric of your underwear. The slick of the wetness spreading and making it go sheer. You then pushed your panties down from your hips, letting them hang around your ankles as you picked up your phone.

You dialed Sam's number, putting the phone on speaker as it rang. Your laptop that was open in front of you displayed the video you were still watching, except now it was muted.

You weren't gonna let Sam know through audio what was happening, if he wanted to do something about it, it would have to be because he saw it happening.

He picked up after a couple of seconds. "Need somethin'?" He asks through the phone, his voice crackling from the calls connection.

"Just wanted to hear your voice." You admitted, massaging your slit with your finger. "That's a first." He mutters, probably rolling his eyes dramatically or maybe he's watching intently.

The not knowing kind of made you more thrilled. If he was watching, then maybe he'd fuck you. And if he's not, then you have to do your damn best to make sure you're sneaky enough to get away with this.

"Oh shut up, it's not a first and you know it. What do you want to talk about?" you ask, just wanting to hear him speak more.

"Hm..." He trails off, thinking for a second. "What are your plans for tomorrow?" He asks, you can hear him groan on the other side of the line. You huff a little in annoyance because it sounded more like a stretch than one of pleasure. Were you really just being delusional?

"Nothing as far as I know, what about you?" You circle your clit, watching the laptop screen that shows something you wish you were experiencing at the moment.

"Nothing, wanna ban- hang out" He quickly corrects his mistake. You can hear him on the other side, swallowing thickly.

You immediately observed the change of what he was starting to say. He just had to be watching.

"Yeah, sounds good Sammy. I have a lot of ideas on how to fill our time." You comment, something that isn't necessarily flirty, unless he's aware of what's happening.

He stutters a little, like his brain is having a hard time catching up to what's happening. "Like...like what? What do you- um...have in mind?" You can tell he's nervous, anxious, maybe a little excited?

"Oh, nothing much, just binge watching tv, maybe studying a little...I have to do my laundry tomorrow...we could just chill." You brush off his question. Speeding up on your clit a little before pressing a digit into your cunt. A small whine escapes you, it was quiet but still picked up on the call.

"You alright, angel?" Your mind spins a little when he calls you angel. It regularly can get you going but gods...right now? Driving you absolutely insane. You pump your fingers into yourself quickly, little noises heard here and there by Sam.

"Angel? You okay?" He asks again, but the coil in your stomach is unraveling too quick for you to stop.

"Fuck, oh my god, Sam-" You whimper out in a squeaky moan. You panic while fucking yourself through it, clicking the hang up button while riding out your high. No longer keeping yourself silent through your orgasm.

Through the blind white ecstasy you were feeling, you didn't notice your window sliding up, the screen protection from bugs pulled out as Sam broke in.

He quietly placed the screen down, striding over to the desk you were sat at. You were tired and recovering from your high when a hand clamped down on your mouth. Despite knowing who it was, your body still went into fight or flight. You tried to scream only for it to be muffled. Sam pulled your head back so you could see it was just him towering above you.

"Put on a real pretty show, baby." He practically coos. "Fuckin' knew I was watching didn't you?" He points to the camera he positioned by your desk. His hand shifts from covering your mouth to gripping your jaw.

Leaving your mouth absolutely gaping at him. He tightens his grip on your jaw more, his other hand connecting with your cheek in a slap. Nothing too rough, but just dominant enough to get your attention. "Asked you a question, angel..." You can only nod at his accusation.

"Words pretty girl..." He caresses' your cheek gently. His dark eyes looking down at you. Dark not in color of his iris's but dark in the way that sends a shiver down your spine. Dark in the way that your brain is telling you to get away and run from this predator. But just like a deer caught in headlights, you freeze up.

His eyelids are covered in messed up eyeliner and eyeshadow. Clearly he wasn't planning to wash it off at all tonight.

"Sammy..." You whine out, your boldness shying down now that you knew you were right.

"Awe, poor baby lost her confidence? Hm? Where's the girl that kept teasing me?" He questioned, his hand slipping from your jaw and to your throat, pressing just lightly. The freehand he had, the one that had previously slapped you, prodded at your mouth with his index and middle. "Suck." As if on command, you took his fingers into your mouth, wrapping your lips around the slender digits.

Your tongue swirled across the tips of his fingers, coating him in your saliva. He pulled his hand away from your mouth, twisting the chair to face him as he dropped to his knees. He forced your legs open as he smeared your spit across your sensitive folds.

You shifted uncomfortably under his touch, little cries falling from your lips about how you can't. "You can take it baby...I got you." Sam reassures, his dyed hair a mess. He worked that coil back up into your lower abdomen. Your hands gripping onto his shoulders as his fingers pulled out of you before diving back in.

"Lookin' so pretty for me baby, my little angel. Need me to protect you, right baby?" It was like he wasn't just talking you through it but also himself. You rapidly nodded your head at his question, your eyes screwed shut as you grinded against his hand as best as you could.

That winded up cord snapped, your release flooding through your body as you tightened around his fingers. Sam kept going, curling into your sweet spot as he fingered you through your orgasm.

"Doin' so well, my pretty girl..." You panted heavily, fighting to get your breaths under control.

Sam removed his fingers from your cunt, pushing them into his mouth and moaning around them. "Better than I imagined, holy shit." He licks himself clean of your juices, giving you your time needed to recover.

Once your heartrate starts returning to normal, Sam stands up from his knees. He pulls you to your feet, you wobbling slightly from the exhaustion your body was already going through. He swiftly picks you up, carrying you the couple of feet to your bed, before putting you back down.

"Sam..." You start, trying to backtrack a little bit when you see him taking off his studded belt. He hums in acknowledgment. Barely paying attention until you start speaking again.

"Was I really right?" You pull your blanket over your lap, feeling a little too exposed. Sam lazily nods his head, already assuming what you meant. "Tried my fuckin' best to not get caught too..." He mumbles, seemingly a little upset with himself for not being careful enough. He pulls down his pants, taking his briefs along with them. Your face contorting into one conveying anxiety when you saw how big he was.

There was no way he was gonna try and put that inside you, is he trying to kill you?? "Sam, wait, hold on a second-" You attempt as he pulls the blanket from you, pushing your legs up so they're on top of his shoulders.

"Sam, stop, you're not gonna fit!" You basically shout at him, grabbing onto a spare pillow to hold onto from your nerves.

"Don't worry angel, I'll make it fit." He sends a small grin to you before pushing his tip against your slit. He pressed into you, your cunt attempting to stretch and accommodate him.

You whined from the discomfort and pain, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying as he sunk into you, making you take him to the hilt. "Shhh, shhh, you're okay. You can take me, can't you?" He comforts before teasing a little at the end. "You got this pretty girl...just breath..." You do as he says, breathing through the discomfort as you get used to his size. When the pain finally dissipates, Sam pulls out before going back in, making sure to go slowly. He may be a little mean, but he wasn't violent...never would he want to hurt you. Maybe rough you up a little bit but never cause any real damage. He only ever wanted to protect you after deciding you were perfect for him.

"Better now baby?" He asks as you nod, giving him the greenlight he picks up his pace. His hips smack against your ass as he thrusts into you. One hand on your waist while the other rests on your ankle. He pulls you closer to him, forcing you to meet him when he slams back into you. The spare pillow you had covers your face as you moan into it.

Sam thought about pulling it from you, wanting to see your gorgeous face as he pounds into you, but he decided against it. He could tell you were shying away from him. Your boldness from earlier only was present because you weren't even sure you were right. Part of you probably assumed you were wrong. But now that Sam is here, fucking into you like you've been daydreaming about. It's all too much. You always get flustered too easily, it's one of his favorite things about you. He didn't want to push you too much, you were already vulnerable and if screaming into a pillow about how good you feel was the solution then so fuckin' be it.

One of your hands snakes down to his hand on your waist, you intertwine your fingers as your final orgasm washes over you. Sam smiles as his pumps into you slow, growing sloppy as he too cums. He pushes your legs off of his shoulders so he doesn't fold you in half when he leans against you. His bodyweight on you as he presses messy kisses to your collar. "Did so well for me..." Sam praises, his eyes raking over your face after pulling the pillow away from you.

You don't bother responding, your body feeling too weak. Sam pulls out of you but you whine from the loss, already missing the feeling of him filling you. Sam walks to your bathroom, grabbing a clean washcloth, wetting it in the sink before coming back into your room. He swipes at the mess between your thighs. The sensitive area making you jolt. "I'm sorry..." Sam lovingly rubs your thigh. After cleaning you up, he climbs into bed beside you, pulling your form against him. He covers the two of you with your duvet; getting comfortable as he spoons you.

"Is...it okay if I put it back in...?" He murmurs against your neck, still pressing kisses to you. You lazily nod, almost completely dozing off. He slides back in, feeling your gummy walls around him. "Never want to leave this pussy." He whispers, not even in a sexual way. Almost as if confessing that it gives him the only comfort he'll ever need in life.

[sturniolo-rat]

✨Matt Sturniolo Headcanons✨

For True And Certified Yapper Girls🗣️

🤍 Matt loves talkative women

From what I gather Matt isn’t naturally a loud person with paragraphs and paragraphs to say. He thinks a lot and says things in a very efficient so he doesn’t use so many words. I think he would absolutely love to have a yapper girlfriend that’s really engaging and asks tons of questions. He’d never have anxiety about being boring or sounding awkward because you’d carry and direct the conversation. He would worry about how to respond to statements because you’d ask him questions to direct his thoughts to.

🤍 You always make sure he’s included

You tend to dominate and lead group conversations. It’s easy for his voice to be overshadowed by yours so you’re always keeping an eye out for him. When you notice he’s making a face like he wants to say something you make everyone listen up. “Thank you, Baby. I wasn’t sure they heard me before.” Sometimes depending on the crowd he’ll get really anxious whisper to you his thoughts. You immediately redirect your attention and start yapping away loudly to him so the group is interested in what he has to say.

🤍 He likes watching you be outgoing

Matt doesn’t always want to be a part of conversations but he does like to watch you when you’re in your element talking up a storm and telling fun stories it’s and silly jokes. He’s happy to see you being yourself. It even turns him on a little bit. If he’s been watching you talk all night at a party he’s definitely railing you when you get home. He slips his hands into your panties and pulls you onto him. “Come sit on my lap and talk to me, Baby. Tell me if you want it rough or gentle.”

🤍 He listens to you really closely

The boy isn’t a yapper but he’s a damn good listener. He’s quite possibly the only one of the triplets who reads so he loves a good story. He’s always asking you to tell him story stories about your childhood and before you met him. “I swear to god you’re the most interesting woman in the world” “I know I am. Now sit and listen.”

🤍 He gets really concerned when get quiet

Matt does NOT like when you get quiet. God forbid you become deep in thought about something and go silent. If he hasn’t had a debriefing about your day whenever you come home he’ll notice and come up to you with your favorite snacks. “Tell me what’s wrong, Sweetness. I brought treats and we can talk shit about whoever upset my baby.” Even if you’re not actually upset you take the opportunity to talk shit anyway.

🤍 He loves getting voice memos from you

You’re his safe person and your voice is so calming to him. He’s always so excited when you’ve had a day that’s so interesting everything that happened can’t be said in a text. He listens to your messages like it’s a true crime podcast. When he misses you or if he’s on tour he goes back and listens to the messages he’s saved. Sometimes if he’s having trouble going to sleep he calls you and asks you to talk to him until he falls asleep.

🤍 You make sexy audios for him

Yes, your voice is calming but to him it’s equally as erotic. He most definitely gets bricked up to your voice. One day you send him a voice message along with a text that says “LISTEN WITH AIRPODS!” He does and it’s just you touching yourself while moaning his name. He gets hard at the family function and has to punish you when he gets home.

Masterlist

@rafecameronsbitch @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @mrsmiagreer @lovergirl4387 @gdsvhtwa @ashley9282828 @j-worlds-blog @stephanienwf @achrisgirly @draculaura123 @abbypost @Cind2224 @crazychrisl0v3r @ryli3sworld @bkwrld @pinkishpearls @pepsienthusiasts @stunza @chrattstromboli @sturnssmuts @angelic-sturniolos111 @69isabella69 @maryx2xx @sturniolo04 @bigbeefybitch @klaus223492 @r93339 @sturnzsblog @spotconlon55 @robins-scoop @junovrsmp4 @sturnlover4eva @blahbel668 @lilahnowheretobefound @luxy-nyx @tuffsturns @m0r94n @sturnstvs @pepsicolapussy333 @maddyslifesstuff @dogblof @honeymoonxxz @xplr-sturns-e-m @hayhjelmstad15

[galedekarios]

minsc & gale

recently i've been doing a playthrough taking minsc along during the limited amount of time we do get to connect with his character in the game and i have to say he's growing on me in a way he didn't in previous titles.

i wanted to take the opportunity here to write a short post about his relationship with gale because that, too, is something i found myself enjoying despite the (too) few interactions that we have between them.

minsc's initial thoughts about gale

Player: How are you and Gale getting along? Minsc: I do not wish to speak of the wizard. Minsc: I could not have said it better myself. - Player Option 1: Gale's great - what's your problem with him? Minsc: He came to me one night with a little book of mischief - full of words and their meanings. Minsc: 'Posterior', he says. 'Can you say 'posterior'?' I refused! Minsc does not need to know the language of wizards. Player: 'Posterior' isn't wizard-talk - it's another word for 'butt'. Minsc: It is an inferior word. Far too long to use in a battle cry, which is where a 'butt' belongs. Minsc: Gale would do better to educate himself in the ways of sword and steel than to throw these pointy words at Minsc. Minsc: Ai, yes. Gale also owns a cat. A cat with wings! That is most unnerving for poor Boo. Player: You should give him a break - he's only trying to help. Minsc: Never! If he is not careful, Boo will shred his books and use them as bedding! - Player Option 2: Did you know that he has an explosive magical orb in his chest that could destroy a city? Minsc: WHAT? Minsc: That is a thousand times more interesting than anything that has ever been written in a book. Minsc: GALE! MY GOOD FRIEND! WHERE ARE YOU? MINSC AND BOO WOULD LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT THE EXPLODING.

they may not start off on the right foot, but with gale's genuine interest in other people's cultures as well as his perception and easy-going nature that changes:

sorcerous sundries

Minsc: Minsc has never trusted places such as this. Too much of a wizard's power can be simply packaged and picked up. devnote: Grumbling as we make our way through the shelves of Sorcerous Sundries Minsc: Well, picked up by all but Minsc. When he touches the many delicate little jars, oh how the wizards shout and stare! devnote: Revealing that his objection of Sorcerous Sundries is not in fact a deep philosophical belief that wizards have too much power - they just make him feel stupid and awkward when he pokes at their things Gale: Fear not, Minsc. You have a wizard at your side who positively encourages such curiosity. You'll fit right in. devnote: Reassuring Minsc: Obliged, wizard. Should we find our way to a weaponsmith, Minsc will rough you up a little - so that you too can fit in. devnote: Warm, comradely, would genuinely be doing Gale a favour

i feel like it truly speaks to gale's character that he doesn't dismiss minsc here - neither his feelings of inadequacy nor his innate curiosity about the things he perceives as wizardly.

it would've been very easy for gale - the wizard prodigy, the former chosen, to archwizard - to act the part of the haughty scholar, akin to the arrogant wizards that minsc describes in this banter, looking down on him, shouting at him, but gale doesn't.

gale reassures minsc, encourages him, telling him he'll fit right in. it reminds me of the way he treats karlach and fostering her interest in books and reading. another pair of seemingly polar opposites that still find a connection. i do think gale is quite natural at this, despite his long time spent in isolation.

and minsc does appreciate it - his tone changes to one of warmth, one of camaraderie - and i think this is also when minsc's perception of gale changes: from the annoying wizard to someone he sees as a companion and friend.

rashemi traditions

Minsc: Gale. Minsc worries you might send a fireball up his butt, with all of this stringy hair in your face. Gale: Is that why you keep your head shaved? I assumed it was a custom of some sort. devnote: Curious, referring to Minsc's origins Minsc: Oh, no! Most warriors of Rashemen wear long battle-braids, weighed down with stone. Minsc can show you, when next we camp? Gale: Thank you, but I'm more wizard than warrior. I'm not sure my scalp would stand up to such a plaiting. devnote: Very politely declining

i like this banter for several reasons: i think not only does it show the progression of their relationship with minsc offering to show gale the traditions of his homeland, gale also shows the same curiosity he shows many different cultures and ways of life, same as he does with lae'zel for instance and githyanki culture.

when he declines minsc's offer, he does so politely, without insulting minsc's traditions, putting the onus on himself instead. he's the wizard, not the warrior.

house of hope

Minsc: Gale! You will perhaps able to explain where Boo has not - what exactly is the difference between a devil and a demon? Gale: A fascinating question, one that boils down to which criteria we choose to apply. Are we speaking about the physiological? Theological? Etymological? devnote: In teacher-mode - up for an in-depth, intellectual discussion Minsc: Eh. Just how-to-kill... -ical. devnote: Non-plussed, echoing Gale's ending every word with 'ical' Gale: Oh. Then for your purposes, they are exactly the same. devnote: Disappointed

this banter genuinely made me laugh. again, i like how it shows the progression of their friendship, to the point of where minsc goes from finding gale annoying to imitating his speech. and gale doesn't put it beyond minsc to have an 'in-depth, intellectual' discussion... even if he is disappointed by the end of their banter, realising that minsc's priorities are... elsewhere.

wychlaran

depending on your party composition and who you take with you, minsc can also call gale his wychlaran.

The Wychlaran, meaning "wise old women" in the ancient language of Halardrim, also known as the Witches of Rashemen outside their lands, were the spiritual leaders of Rashemen, communing with the spirits and guiding the souls of the Rashemi people.

minsc does use it, too, to describe a special bond and a sense of duty and protectiveness to the people he ascribes this title to. he did so in bg1 with dynaheir and in bg2 with aerie.

elminster

Minsc: It must be difficult for Gale to imagine great Elminster a-courting. Writing poems. Doing... certain... deeds. Gale: Long before my time, thank goodness. That's not an image I care to dwell on. Minsc: Ugh. It is difficult for Minsc to think of, too. Let us speak no more of it. Minsc: ... Minsc: Of Elminster and the sex, I mean.

another banter that did genuinely make me laugh despite the seriousness of the situation, especially given the bond that elminster and gale share as well, which speaks of paternal feelings on elminster's part that come with a certain sense of responsibility, as well as gale's admiration, but also often exasperation with his former mentor.

on a more serious note, minsc offers great insights in his interactions with gale and gale's story:

mystra and the vremyonni

The vremyonni or Old Ones were an arcane brotherhood in Rashemen. Men that were arcane spellcasters in Rashemen had two choices, exile or to join the vremyonni. Many vremyonni were kept alive for eons by longevity magic. Vremyonni were expert weaponsmiths and magic item creators. On very rare occasions, vremyonni would fight in the defense of Rashemen. Vremyonni used secrets of magic that even the Witches of Rashemen did not use, destructive spells forbidden among the wilds of Rashemen, in case such magic was needed. The Running Rocks harbored secret strongholds of the vremyonni. All vremyonni wore masks.

Minsc: Gale reminds me of the vremyonni of my homeland. The man-mages of Rashemen. Minsc: While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. Minsc: It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth I thought it born of caution, after some catastrophe wrought by wizardly men-folk of old. Minsc: Now I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm? Minsc: Though this suggests that Mystra has never tempted a witch into foolishness. Not that I would blaspheme by suggesting otherwise. Minsc: I forget why I began this long and winding story. Yes Boo - we have been spending too long around the wizard.

i think this is a very interesting banter, especially since it's also only marked to trigger if gale agrees to return the crown to mystra.

it's easy to dismiss this banter, laugh it off as just another instance of minsc being minsc, but i think it's important to consider it within the context of game canon and what has been shown to us.

it's a story and everything within a story is there for a reason.

another great insight from minsc comes if gale is pushed towards the crown by the player:

gale and godhood

Minsc: Who among us has not been spurned by a lover? But a word of advice, if Minsc may be so bold: Minsc: Let the wizard lick his wounds. Write some rickety rhymes, and weep most manfully into his hamster's hide. Eh - his cat's hide. Minsc: But... his boasting is unbecoming. 'Claim godhood', he says? Will this make him any less a man with a half-mended heart?

again, minsc does at times share great insight into other characters and he does so here again with gale:

will this make him any less a man with a half-mended heart?

i think it quite accurately goes straight to the crux of what makes it so very easy to push gale towards godhood: he is hurt. he feels abandoned. by his goddess. by his former lover. both as a mystran and on deeply personal level.

he is drifting, seeking something to hold his head above the water. if it's not the protag's love or friendship, it will be the crown.

anyhow, i never expected to write this when i first learned that minsc would be a companion, but i truly did enjoy him and his interactions with gale in particular.

[mammonsrockstargf]

Do you think we’re together in every universe?

Summary: “I’ll find you in every single universe and if I can’t walk I’ll crawl to you. That I know for certain.” Paring: Solomon x gn!reader Wordcount: 2k (about a 8 min read) Contents: Parallel universes, arranged marriage, witch-hunts, alcohol consumption, short mentions of guns and knives, kissing, tattoos, I think that’s all

You stare at the sleeping man beside you. “Sol, wake up please” you whisper, poking his cheek with your finger.

“Please go back to sleep, my love,” Solomon groans, his arm around your waist tightening. You huff and give him a small peck. The corner of his lips turn upwards shortly before he scowls again.

“It’s importaaant~” you whisper and he hides his face in his pillow, grumbling into it. “What is it?” he asks.

“Do you think we’re together in every universe?” His eyes open and his brows furrow. “You seriously interrupted my sleep for that?” he asks and you pout. “Old man,” you complain and a chuckle leaves him.

“Of course I love you in every universe,” he says and pulls you closer to him, closing his eyes again. He gives the top of your head a soft kiss.

“I’ll find you in every single universe and if I can’t walk I’ll crawl to you. That I know for certain.”

—

"There you are. I've been looking for you," 

You swirl around and immediately relax when you see Solomon smiling at you. You’re standing in a corner of the ballroom, watching the many couples dance. “You look stunning tonight,” He says and you let your eyes wander, taking in his elegant black suit, with blue embroidered details.

“You don’t look half-bad yourself, viscount,” you say and bow your head in a show of respect. Solomon lets out a deep laughter, causing your cheeks to heat up.

“Would you care for a dance?” he asks, but you shake your head, before turning to look at the dancing couples in front of you again. “We both know it wouldn’t appropriate, viscount.” A long sigh leaves the man and he looks at you with adoration in his eyes.

“I am engaged to another, you know that,” you say and your breath hitches when Solomon moves a piece of your hair away from your face. You look up at him and he grins again.

“Just removing a stray piece of hair, my love,” he says but his hand lingers for a few seconds, before letting it fall to his side. You both stand and look out in the ballroom for a long while.

“Run away with me,” Solomon says and you take a sharp breath, eyes remaining on the crowd in front of you. “I have plenty of money. We could go somewhere far away, where no one knows us-“

“We can’t,” you hiss. “I have responsibilities here.”

“Be with me, be happy. I’ll give you the entire world if you ask. Just come with me,” He pleads and you can hear the strain in his voice. Your heart tightens in your chest. You let your hand fall to your side as well, brushing lightly against Solomons. Your little finger finds his and you intertwine them. You both look down at your fingers before your eyes find each other again.

—

You watch the flames gathering beneath your feet and scrunch your nose with contempt. The priest in front of you is yelling some nonsense about ridding the world of evil, one witch at a time. You look around the crowd, seeing blurred faces through the smoke in the crowd. One face stands completely clear, with white hair, blue eyes and a charming grin, staring directly at you. 

You blink. The heat under you seems to dissipate, and the priest's words become muffled. "There you are. I've been looking for you, my love," he says and you feel a rush of familiarity in his words. The flames are licking at your knees now, but they're caressing your skin instead of burning you. It tickles. 

"So, are you gonna save me or what?" you ask and smile at him. You should probably be horrified, scared out of your mind. You should probably also be screaming out in pain, but you feel none of those things. Solomon scoffs and steps onto the platform. Several people gasp in surprise and reach for him, but it's like they're unable to touch him. 

He's standing directly in front of you now and wraps his arms around you to pull at the robes tying you to the stake. They fall off the second he touches them and you look at your wrists, massaging the sore skin. 

“I was waiting for you" you say and he steps closer. "Is that so?" he asks and you nod. "You took your time," you complain and Solomon scoffs. "You're plenty capable of saving yourself," he says and you shrug. "Yeah, but I like it more when you're the one doing the saving," you purr and Solomon's hand reaches to stroke your cheek. "You're so lazy," he says, adoringly. 

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, nudging his head towards the forest. You look at the inviting green escape and homesickness swells in your chest. Your shared cabin isn’t far from here. “Yeah, let me just take care of the priest first,” you say and Solomon watches, pupils morphing into hearts, as you step towards the priest who’s now clutching his cross and screaming prayers at you. 

—

You step into the tavern, the smell of unwashed bodies and rum immediately hitting you, as you make your way towards the bar. The bartender is a burly man, with several tattoos down his arms and a big black beard. He barely glances at you before turning around. “I’m looking for-“ you begin, before the man interrupts you.

“I don’t serve pirates,” he says, pointing towards a sign, with a big fat cross over the classic pirate flag. Your brows furrow and you look around the room. Several pirates, robbers and well-known thieves are sitting about, playing cards and drinking ale.

You look back at the man. “I think you need a better pirate detector then,” you state. The bartender turns around and glares at you, walking towards you. “Listen here, you little-“

Before the situation can escalate further a handsome white-haired man steps beside you, flashing the bartender a smile. “Two beers, please,” he says, placing three big gold coins on the table. The bartender grumbles but takes the coins and places two beers in front of you.

The white-haired man pushes one beer towards you and you accept, taking a sip. “Thank you,” you say and he shrugs. “No problem,” he says.

"I've been waiting for you," You place a paper in front of him and his smile fades when he sees his face looking back at him. On top is written “Have you seen this man?” and at the bottom “Reward: £1000”

“Quite a hefty bounty on ya,” you say and smile charmingly at him. Solomon goes to move but stops when he feels the barrel of a gun in his side. “You’re a sneaky one, aren’t you?” Solomon says and you shrug.

“So, Solomon, we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” you purr and Solomon looks at the paper. “They never quite get my nose right,” he pouts. You huff and he uses your amusement to his advantage. Within a flash, he’s running towards the door with you right on his heels. You shoot towards his leg, but he narrowly avoids the bullet, hurling the door open and disappearing into the street. Several sailors send you annoyed looks, grumbling about “useless pirates”. 

You curse under your breath and follow him down a narrow street. He disappears around a corner and you follow but when you reach the corner, he’s gone. You look around before you feel an arm wrap around your waist and a cool blade against your neck. You turn your head to the side to find Solomons's blue eyes piercing through you, a mischievous grin dancing on his lips.

“Gotcha. Now how about we sit down and settle this like adults, huh?”

—

You’re pulled into your makeup room backstage and Solomon’s lips are immediately on yours. You return the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, and giggling into his mouth.

“Sol, we have to go on in five minutes, we can’t do this right now-“ you laugh, pressing several small kisses to his lips. A noise of complaint leaves Solomon and he presses you closer to him. “The fans can wait,” he whines, kissing the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Thousands of people are waiting for us,” you say and pull him away from you. You run your fingers through his hair and fix the microphone taped to his cheek that’s gone askew while you kissed.

He fixes your mic as well and strokes your cheek. A deep sigh leaves him. “Oh well. I guess I can’t keep the world’s most beloved rockstar from the stage no matter what I do,” he says and you chuckle, pressing another peck to his lips. He chases you, pressing you against the door. His tongue traces your bottom lip and you open, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and mints. “Sol,” you sigh and he pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours. He takes in your kiss-bitten lips and kisses your nose. 

“We still have 3 minutes, my love,” he says and kisses you again. “And I’ve read that kissing is a great vocal warmup.”

—

You stare at the tattoo parlour in front of you, the big red letters reading "Magic Ink", which you think is quite a silly name, but you know that it’s the best place in town. 

The bell rings on the door when you walk into the empty lobby. "Be right with you!" you hear someone yell from the back door and you lean over the counter instantly making yourself comfortable. 

A handsome man comes out from the back and smiles at you instantly. "Hi, my love,” he sings and you beam. You take in his tattooed arms as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him softly. “Hi, baby,” you murmur and he grins. 

“What can I do for you?” he asks and you roll your eyes. “I’d like a tattoo, thank you.” you say and he raises his brows in faux surprise. “and also, I brought lunch,” you say, holding up a small bag. 

“Thank god, I’m starving,” Solomon mutters and leads you into a room with a tattoo chair, along with another smaller chair beside it. "You're late, ya know? I've been waiting," he says and you hum, looking around the familiar tattoo room. 

The walls are covered with tattoo designs. All of them have a mystical vibe to them, portraying supernatural creatures and weird symbols. There’s a couch in the corner of the room, which you both settle in while taking out the food from the bag. “Oh, you got my favourite,” he says and you nod, handing him his sandwich. “With a disgusting amount of mayo, just how you like it,” you say and he grins, taking a big bite of the sandwich. “Thanks,” he says and you “tsk” reaching out to wipe the mayo from his face. “Gross,” you mutter and Solomon shrugs. “Only for you,”

After lunch, Solomon begins drawing out the design you both decided on last night in bed, while attentively listening to your inputs and suggestions. Once you’re satisfied he makes a stencil for you. 

"Are you nervous?" he asks and you exhale. "That easy to tell?" you ask, peering up at his blue eyes. He smiles and shakes his head. "Not really, I just have a knack for noticing that kind of thing," he says. You squint at him. "What does that even mean?" you ask and he shrugs. "I like to observe," he says. "Anyhow, how do you like this placement?" he asks while turning you towards a mirror. "Yeah I like it," you say and he nods in agreement. "Yeah, I agree. Let's do it then." 

The tattoo only takes about an hour and afterwards, he wraps it up and talks you through the aftercare. “It looks beautiful, my love," he smiles and you smile back, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. "I love it, thank you.”

a/n: thanks for reading! you can find my other stuff here.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello Carina! I absolutely ADORE your works I'm hooked Was wondering if you could do Geto/Nanami/Gojo/Sukuna x fem reader who grew up in a toxic household that encouraged bad eating habits like eating extremely small amounts and tried to always make her a good and docile wife. But she left them and is now pretty successful but her eating habits are still pretty bad Please stay hydrated this summer!

A lot of you guys request stuff like bad heating habits from me and I'm actually a little scared that I receive a shit storm for writing these sensitive topics, but there you go! I decided on Geto since he is the sweetest boy ever but if this goes well and some of you guys show interest, I might write something similar for the other characters as well - enjoy <3

Geto encouraging his girlfriend to eat more after growing up in a toxic household

Pairing: Geto x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: After your toxic parents tried to force you into their picture of a thin and docile wife, you left them as soon as possible and became the best version of yourself - if it wasn't for your bad eating habits still haunting you down when you're out with your boyfriend. Until he decides to have a talk with you...

Warnings: Just let me tell you right from the start that there's nothing wrong with being thin and I hope it's obvious that we're talking about an unhealthy connotation in this fic, if you get triggered when it comes to toxic parents and hurtful phrases regarding weight please don't read this. In general, this contains sensitive content and a few pieces of ED and harsh language, but our boy Geto telling us how much he loves us the way we are

„You know you are totally able to eat more than that, right? We’ve been out without any food for hours now, you need to care for yourself, love.”

Suguru’s hand gently caresses your back while you stare at the salad you just ordered.

“You’re gonna look like a pig soon if you don’t stop eating like one, (y/n). Didn’t I teach you a lady needs to watch her diet?”

“No man wants a fat woman, trust me.”

“Thank you so much for looking out for me. I’m good”, you mutter after shaking their cruel words off your mind.

You can’t bring yourself to catch a glimpse at his comforting brown eyes, not when your guilty conscience almost eats you up alive. The stinging words of your mother and father haunt you until this day. Even though you left years ago and started your very own life away from their toxic household, even though your precious boyfriend Geto Suguru is the living proof for them being wrong.

Just one look at the salad in front of you paired with your memory is enough to feel like in your childhood all over again.

“Hey, look at me honey.”

Gently, his hand caresses your cheek and lifts your head into his direction. There they are, his oh so loving orbs, his tender smile that warms your stinging heart in an instant.

“We’ve been together for a year now and you still seem to be upset when you have to eat around me. I can’t help but wonder why you torture yourself. Is it because of me, did I give you the feeling you aren’t good the way you are? Because I love you with all my heart.”

You never allowed yourself to cry in front of someone else. To be exact, you stopped when you were greeted by nothing but harsh words from your parents with every tear that ran down your cheek. You are supposed to be a good and hostile woman, the perfect little wife for some wealthy man your parents already decided on when you were still 10. A woman that doesn’t speak as much as you do, a woman who doesn’t eat as much as you do. A feminine angel walking on earth with the only purpose to say yes and amen to her beloved husband.

When you were finally old enough to leave them behind, you packed your things and joined jujutsu high. Life is easier around here with so many beloved friends by your side who support and truly love you. Yes, they showed you how good you are, that you are independent and are allowed to have your own opinion, that it’s okay to say no. Yes, you even started to eat a little more and gained a healthy amount of weight and well-formed muscles.

They were wrong. Your parents were so wrong with everything they taught you. But this…

You bite your lip when a sub escapes from deep down your throat, hot tears now stinging in your eyes so violently that you can’t catch your breath. Eating has always been your weakness, the one and only thing you can’t fully control until this day. Their words still crush you every time you order something to eat.

What if Suguru doesn’t find you attractive when you gain even more weight?

What if he thinks it’s disgusting to see you eat like a pig?

What if he’ll fall out of love when you show him that you aren’t as perfect as a doll?

“I’m so sorry. The last thing I want is to see you cry”, he instantly speaks out, wrapping his much-needed arms around you so tightly that you sink into his broad chest.

“It’s just…I’m afraid to eat more…”, you finally blurt out.

A part of your heart flutters in relief when those words finally leave your mouth. For more than a year, you simply forced yourself through the aching of your stomach, the hunger that kept you awake when Suguru laid next to you fast asleep. All because of their cruel words. All because they made you believe your whole life you aren’t good enough if you eat “too much”.

“You don’t feel comfortable eating around me, don’t you?”

You simply nod against his chest, too ashamed to lift your head. How embarrassing to hear those words leaving his lips, that he already knows why you’re acting this way.

“May I ask why? Did I say or do something that makes you feel this way, love?”

Your head starts spinning. The sheer thought that he might think your strange behaviour is his fault, that he did something wrong is ridiculous in your eyes.

“Absolutely not. It’s…It’s…”

Why is it so damn hard to find the right words? You stutter like an idiot for what feels like ages while listening to Suguru’s steady heartbeat. He knows how rough your childhood was, that your parents treated you like the dirt underneath their feet. You were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. Until you became a well-known and rich jujutsu sorcerer with a charismatic man like Geto Suguru by your side.

“See? I told you you will find a wealthy man if you keep up with our education, daughter.”

“All because we taught you everything you know and kept you in shape!”

“No”, you replied immediately, straightening your shoulders while facing the people who made your life living hell for more than enough years.

“I did all of this by myself. Because I chose to be the person I am instead of the person you wanted me to be.”

“They always told me I’m too much, that eating in front of my man is strictly forbidden. I was supposed to be a thin and docile wife.”

Your voice is nothing but a far away whisper. All those nights your father scolded you when you weighted more than you did before. How your mother screamed at you when your curves start to develop through puberty, how disgusted they looked at you when you wore shorts or ate next to them. Deep within, you know how toxic your eating habits are despite the positive changes you’ve been through. But still…Just the thought of eating a cheeseburger in front of Suguru fills you with so much disgust that your guts turn immediately.

“You aren’t docile but strong and stubborn. You aren’t only thin but strong and athletic. Your body is capable of so much more than simply being thin, (y/n). You are perfect in every single way, your body allows you to fight so well that even Satoru admires your skills. You are so breathtakingly beautiful that I could stare at you all day…I am glad you didn’t follow their rules, that you didn’t turn into the good and docile wife they wanted you to be. Because you became so much more. Because you can do so much more. But for that, you need to fuel your body the way it deserves it even when I’m around. I love to see you eat, I love to see you happy and healthy. And I know how hard it can be to overcome things you were taught from a young age. Would you promise me something?”

Now you can’t help but lift up your head, staring at him through your wet lashes. His words, his oh so sweet words still linger through your mind and force your cheeks to turn bright pink. Is this really how Suguru feels about you, are you really enough for him just the way you are?

Why wouldn’t you? After all, he was the one choosing you.

“What?”, you mumble.

“Promise me that we will work this out. If you can’t bring yourself to open up to me, please consider checking up with Shoko or another professional. I admire you for all the things you’ve already did, that you were actually able to turn into a wonderful woman with that horrible family. I’d love to hang out with you while eating chips, I’d love to eat a whole lot of unhealthy junk food and sweets with you without you worrying about my thought. Because the only thing I care about is that you’re happy. And you being healthy and eating properly means happiness.”

That smile. That oh so bright smile that reaches his brown eyes and lifts up your mood immediately. Oh, you truly don’t deserve him. A new wave of fresh tears threatens to spill over your eyes and begins to take your sight.

But those aren’t tears of sorrow. No, those are tears of pure joy and love.

You throw yourself around his neck before he’s able to catch you properly, causing both of you to almost fall off his chair.

“I will”, you mutter against his ear.

“I promise I will work on it.”

“I’m more than glad to hear that”, he replies softly while caressing your hair.

“Would you like to order something else in addition to your salad, then?”

You let go of Suguru with a small smile, holding his hands tightly as your heart overflows with love. The man who showed you what you’re capable of, who supports you through anything. Sooner or later, you will be able to share food dates with him and enjoy them. But until then…

“I’m fine for today. But next time, I might order something else.”

“Fine. Just let me know when you’re ready, (y/n).”

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@okay-it-is-ivy

[pomefioredove]

So idk if I'm requesting in the right place. But I would love a twst scenario with a yuu that just says all their intrusive thoughts. Like just out of NOWHERE, as they reach for a water bottle hanging out with the first years they go.

“I robbed a house back home”

Or when Azul tries cornering them with the twins for something they just blankly turn to Floyd going.

“duck off you look like you can't steer a shopping cart”

But feel free to do it with whoever you want and if you don't want to do mine that's perfectly fine and I hope you have a great day :)

certainly!!

summary: reader who speaks all their impulsive thoughts type of post: headcanons characters: heartslabyul, octavinelle, scarabia, diasomnia additional info: platonic or romantic, reader isn't specified to be yuu, reader is gender neutral author's note: for some reason I had the hardest time thinking up new nonsense, so many of these dialogue lines are from lewis carroll poems, which I have a wonderful nostalgia for. check those out as well!

Ace and Deuce are pretty much used to you saying whatever's at the top of your mind... with no filter

so used to it that it barely even registers with them anymore

whenever it's quiet, they can expect you to come out with some incomprehensible nonsense.

if you didn't, they'd probably ask what's wrong

"I robbed a house back home,"

"Yeah, okay,"

Riddle, on the other hand, gets frustrated alarmingly fast

despite running an entire dorm based on nonsensical rules, he has a low tolerance for outside nonsense

and... well, despite his name, he's not really a fan of riddles

Trey matches your energy immediately

no joke. he doesn't even bat an eye

"I eat plastic,"

"hm. sometimes I eat muffin wrappers,"

honestly, sometimes his tangents get even weirder than yours

Cater probably wasn't listening very closely when you first started going off, or maybe he's just become accustomed to riddles, though the next time you say something he just thinks it's cute

might use your "thoughtful anecdotes" as a caption for his next post

would it be surprising if I were to say Azul is used to randomness?

Floyd has a tendency to say the strangest things out of nowhere, after all, and the sea itself can be a surprising place

he does not, however, appreciate how you keep speaking in tongues when he's trying to have serious business conversations with you

(seriously, how hard can it be to swindle one person?!)

"Please, just talk normally,"

"But the mome raths outgrabe!"

he doesn't know what that means, but it sounds like an insult

...and then will refuse to converse with you again until you're in a "better mood" (in his own words)

Jade, on the other hand, finds you quite fascinating

he keeps a little notepad on him just to jot down the things you say. why? you can't imagine. he just finds it interesting, you suppose

"'Twas brilling..."

"Really? How interesting. Go on,"

Floyd isn't really paying much attention

your funny words amuse him at best and annoy him at worse

if you ever find yourself in a bad place with the octotrio, you can just say something like:

"You look like you can't steer a shopping cart,"

and Floyd will take actual offense to that, and just straight up leave

(much to Azul's dismay)

Kalim adds on right away

and keeps going

and keeps going... and keeps going...

"How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail..."

"Oh, I know! He pours waters on every shining scale,"

at one point Jamil has to pull you aside and beg you not to encourage him

"No promises!" is your answer

Kalim even buys a parrot to add onto the fun

it becomes a three-person (or two-person-and-a-bird?) act

...even if you're not really doing it on purpose

Jamil is who ends up taking care of the parrot while it squawks your old nonsense thoughts, though

he likes the parrot much better than either of you

Malleus will entertain you based on his own curiosity

none of his other human classmates speak in such odd and puzzling words, so he knows it's a "you" thing

might try to solve them if they sound like riddles

but he mostly just thinks they're cute

"O, oysters, come and walk with us,"

"How interesting... I do wonder where you come up with all this,"

Sebek will listen to you because Malleus does, and Silver has enough nonsense to deal with as it is. will definitely fall asleep while you're talking to him

Lilia responds in like terms

meow at him? he'll meow back

in fact, he'll meow at you every time he sees you until you say something else to capture his curiosity

might go ahead and start speaking to you in tongues before you even say anything

he just thinks you're neat!

[turquoisenintendo64]

Love Comes to Everyone !

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂

in which: a daughter of aphrodite is camp half-blood’s matchmaker, but can’t seem to find someone for herself.

percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite!reader

inspired by “Love Comes to Everyone” by George Harrison :)

warnings: use of y/n, there is no such thing as forbidden children, percy has a little half-sister, pipabeth implied

a/n: part 1 of the song inspired blurbs!! i’ll make more for my babies ehehehe, will probably make this a two shot. also this is terrible but anyway kinda cute

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂

“the date went fantastic!” daliah, a girl from the demeter cabin, told you, while you were eating some strawberries she brought you.

“i’m glad,” you smiled.

before the end of the week, you have set up two couples: daliah and fred, a boy from the hephaestus cabin, and emma and sasha, two unclaimed girls.

you really hoped emma and sasha weren’t sisters, that would be quite unfortunate.

“i’m sure all of your relationships went really well.”

and here we go again.

since you are a daughter of the goddess of love, people tend to assume you are a heartbreaker, maneater, and many other words not as friendly.

but the truth is you aren’t. in fact, you’ve never had a real boyfriend.

only boys who had invited you to their cabins to hangout, but you never ended up liking them enough to date them.

“oh, yeah! super well,” you lied.

you hated to admit it, but there was nothing you wanted more than to be loved. to have someone to be completely enamoured by you, admire you, listen to you, be someone’s priority. but you could never seem to find it.

some of your sisters tell you to just charm-speak your way into some boy’s heart, but that’s not real love, and you want real love.

you had love in your life, though. you loved your friends, and they loved you just as much.

“it takes time,” you heard a masculine voice next to you.

you snapped back to reality and found percy sitting next to you. when did daliah leave?

“what?”

“love,” he said.

to be honest, you were a little bit surprised by him talking to you all of a sudden.

you and percy aren’t exactly friends; he is best friends with annabeth, and you are too, sonit was inevitable for you two to meet and have a conversation once or twice.

“yeah, i know.” you nodded. “it sucks though, being able to set up a lot of people but not being able to do that for myself.”

“we all have someone, you just have to find it,” he got up, and after a sigh, he said “and who knows? maybe he is closer than you think.” and walked away.

trust me, if he was close, i’d know, you thought, but… maybe you wouldn’t know.

you knocked the door of the athena cabin, being greeted by a smiling annabeth.

then her smile faded.

“you are late, miss y/l/n.”

you asked her for help with something, yet you were late.

“i know, i know, i’m sorry. i got distracted.” you said, walking inside.

“by what?” she asked, sitting crisscrossed in her bed.

“daliah,” you said, sitting in her bed. “oh and percy.”

she smiled.

“percy?”

“mhm.”

“interesting…” she narrowed her eyes, with her smile still intact.

“interesting? why would it be interesting?”

“nothing. he just never talks to you.” she opened her ancient greek book you asked for, still smiling.

she was an incredibly bad liar, but you decided to ignore that and move on to your study session.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂

“so you got sick in the matter of… three hours?” you asked annabeth.

“yes, and it’s” cough cough “really bad.”

you crossed your arms.

will had called you after your study session with annabeth, telling you she went to the infirmary claiming to have the flu.

“if you have it, i probably have it too, then.”

“no. you are totally fine.” she said. you raised an eyebrow.

“right… i will go help my sisters with the decorations in case the new camper is a daughter of aphrodite.”

“wait!” she called. “i promised percy to help him show the new camper around camp.” she explained.

“well if you have the flu, you can’t do that.”

“i know. could you do it for me?” she asked you, with a grin.

you stayed silent for a few seconds. as you weren’t answering, she faked a cough to make her indisposition more believable.

“sure, i’ll help percy.” her grin widened even more.

“thank you so much,” she kissed you in the cheek.

“if i get sick because of you, i will haunt you in your sleep.”

“yeah, yeah, now leave.” she pushed you out of the bed.

you walked out of the infirmary, not before telling will to call you at any minor inconvenience. you didn’t believe annabeth had the flu, but just in case it was true, you wanted to be with her if she got worse.

you saw percy with a little girl holding his hand.

she looked scared, and he was knelt next to her, whispering in her ear.

the little girl smiled and giggled.

“hey,” you greeted.

“hey. mary, this is y/n,” percy introduced you to the little girl, who shyly waved to you. she looked seven or so.

“hello mary, how are you?” you asked, kneeling in front of her, just like percy.

“i miss my mommy,” she confessed, tear stains on her cheeks.

“don’t worry, we’ll take care of you,” percy said, stroking her back.

percy got on his feet again, still holding mary’s hand.

he sounded like a tour guide, explaining everything as you walked around camp, adding anecdotes to entertain mary.

“that is the ares cabin,” he pointed to cabin 5, “but don’t get too close; they might bite you.” mary chuckled as percy tickled her.

he was good with kids.

gods, he was good with kids.

this guy was perfect and you didn’t even notice.

“this is y/n’s cabin, the aphrodite cabin,” he explained. he glanced at you before speaking again. “goddess of love and beauty. it’s not hard to believe she is y/n’s mom, right?”

you blushed. he was good with kids and lowkey bad at flirting. all you could ever ask for in a man.

“your mom is the goddess of beauty?” mary asked you, eyes shining with curiosity and innocence.

you nodded, “you can come to my cabin whenever you want, and i can dress you like a princess.” you told her, smiling.

“yes! i want to be a princess!”

you and percy laughed. he looked at you, but you didn’t notice.

now, he explained the hardest part. the whole ‘you could wait your whole life to be claimed’ thing. mary’s lower lip shivered, and it made you want to cry in the spot.

“so you don’t know who my dad is?” she asked. you and percy shared a concerned look.

“no. but i’m sure he will claim you soon, and when he does, we will introduce you to your brothers and sisters, okay?” you told her, reassuringly caressing her cheek.

“okay,” she said, smiling again, “you are my new best friends.”

you walked her to the hermes cabin, and stayed with her until she was comfortable with the other campers that resided there.

it was quite late, almost dinner time, exactly.

percy walked you to your cabin, and you stayed in the doorway a few minutes talking about mary.

“maybe she’s a daughter of apollo,” he suggested. “she’s really energetic.”

“well, duh, we all are. ADHD.”

“right,” he chuckled. “demeter, maybe? she seemed really interested in the strawberry fields.”

“well, she screamed when she saw a ladybug so i don’t think so.”

you heard someone calling for percy, and you cursed mentally.

“i have to… uh… leave.” he said, almost hesitantly.

he walked down the stairs of the cabin’s porch, facing you.

“i’ll see you at the campfire,” he said, with an awkward smile.

you smiled and waved. for some reason, you couldn’t let out any words.

you walked in your cabin, and threw yourself in your bed.

you didn’t notice annabeth and your sister piper in piper’s bed next to yours.

“how was your night, lovergirl?” annabeth asked you.

“didn’t you have the flu?” you asked, face buried in your pillows.

“i’m better.”

“i hope will gave you the plague,” she rolled her eyes.

you sat down in your bed, looking at them.

“percy is a good friend.”

“we know.”

“he’s kind.”

“we know.”

“he’s funny.”

“we know.”

“he’s kinda smart.”

“kinda. we know.”

“super bad at flirting.”

“we know.”

“good with kids.”

“we know.”

“and handsome. dare i say hot.”

“we prefer women, but we know,” annabeth said. piper giggled.

“do you guys think he could-“

“he does like you, y/n.” piper said.

“don’t know,” you turned around, laying down.

you heard annabeth and piper’s giggles, then, you heard a whisper.

“i think our lovergirl has found her loverboy.”

“shut up!” you whispered back.

and they laughed harder.

but maybe, just maybe, they were right.

[toorurs]

MY BEST FRIEND- GOJO SATORU

my one and only...

from me to you: this is dedicated to your dear stranger anon. yes, yes i know you didn't request anything but i've written this just for you as a small gift because i know that you have many exams stacking up right now and in the near future. so i hope that those words will reach you as they fly away with the wind like sacred doves carrying out a letter. good luck with all your exams <3 + cause of your exam yesterday as like a little gift to refresh from whatever that thing was

synopsis: satoru gojo - s.g., the letters you've used to carve into the moist tree bark, wishing that one day you'll be his, will one day be engraved onto the wedding band you'll carry around your ring finger. it's an oath - a vow that he'll fulfill, he promises. after all, satoru gojo has always been yours, no matter if there was a ring around his finger or not.

pairing: gojo satoru x reader | wordcount: 2.6k | content & warnings: childhood friends to lovers, word vomit, making out in one scene, gojos backstory (not particularly compliant with canon gojo backstory, i’ve made my adjustments here and there to fit the story BUT no major changes), gojo being a cocky kid and turning into some obnoxious loud teenage boy, mentions of megumi and tsukimi, tba if i feel like adding more, i’ll proofread tmrw (i always do LOL); oneshot

a/n: gojos been growing on me

satoru gojo is your best friend - he’s always been; he’ll always be.

satoru gojo and you grew up side by side, the two of you were inseparable ever since childhood. people knew that if satoru were to appear somewhere you’d be right at his side, it was the same the other way around. 

while satoru was like the positive pole of a magnet while you were the negative one, despite being polar opposites you’d still get attached to each other, glued to one another until they get split up. (although that’d never be the case because the both of you always find your way back to one another.) 

you’ve known him ever since he was a scrawny and spoiled kid that was missing two teeth in the upper and lower row of his teeth. satoru has always been someone who’s gotten pampered, whether it was in gifts, praise or affection. he was the golden child, destined to carry out the task to be the strongest - a gift, some say. or was it rather a burden to bear to be the strongest? a curse cast upon him?

on the other hand, he’s seen you in all your awkward middle school and highschool phases. the “teeth adorned by braces” phase, the “i’m not like the others, no one understands me!” phase, the “face and back covered in acne” phase and many more. throughout all of these periods in your life he has always been by your side though, telling you “i told you so.” as he scoffs but being supportive nevertheless.

after all, that's what best friends are for.

the first time you met satoru gojo was in some closed off forest near your neighborhood. you’ve always gone here during your leisure time, playing hide and seek with your friends, stargazing near the river side and building shelters out of decayed wooden branches - that's where you find him.

his white hair stood out immediately, he was easy to spot from afar, like a prey with bright fur that could easily be taken advantage of. “hey you!” you shouted as you strided over to the boy who was shorter than you by a head, you noticed his knees are scraped and there's dirt all over his clothes. he snapped his head right at you, enigmatic blue eyes staring right at you.

azul colored eyes that glowed like the surface of the water as the sun shined down on it and as the wuthering waves that chaotically danced around in the ocean, gazed at you with skepticism. they’re so pretty - ethereal even. 

but then, how come they looked so dull, plain - lifeless? 

“if you have nothing to say and keep staring at me like that you can just leave.” the young boy spat as he tensed his eyebrows. “i have enough of the likes of you at home already. gawking at me all day long, makes me sick to the stomach.” he complained bitterly and looked down to the red and brown maple leaves that were splattered around the floor, before swaying his gaze back to you. autumn has officially arrived. 

rude much. you thought to yourself. but admittedly it did look like he was telling the truth, his gaze was still fixated on yours, sharp as ever. you felt a bit bad, but only a tad. after all he had no business being this impolite, the both of you looked the same age - hell maybe he was even younger due to his stunted growth. also, this was your place, your secret base, so he had no reason for being this rude.

you returned his unimpressed stare. “m’sorry but how could i possibly ignore someone whose eyes are literally the same color as papa smurfs skin tone.” you say, hoping to get some kind of offended reaction out of him. 

although the reaction that you were anticipating to get was nothing like the actual reaction you’ve gotten. “who or what is papa smurf?” the boy stopped tensing his shoulders and tilted his head in confusion as he scrunched up his nose.

“you're joking!” you shouted in surprise. “jeez, could you speak any louder?” the boy retorted in annoyance. “and no, no i’m not.” he muttered. 

at that you were only able to laugh loudly, clearly riling him up. “what is wrong with you?” the boy asked, still confused. normally you would’ve been offended, perhaps even sad but this time it's different because you can tell that he doesn't actually mean it like that.  

“sorry, sorry.” you covered your mouth with your hand, preventing your remaining giggles to escape. “you’re really funny, you know that?” you said as you looked down at him, blatant disbelief written all over his face. 

“excuse me?” he asked as if he needed you to repeat that to know that he hasn’t misheard you.

“you’ve heard me, don’t pretend like you didn’t!” you pouted in annoyance. “wanna be my friend? we can even be best friends if you want to!” you asked in a cheery sing-song voice, eyes lighting up with joy.

best friend. two unfamiliar words that nicely rolled down his tongue. satoru wasn’t used to the concept of befriending someone, everyone whom he grew up around with were his house maids or cleaning staff and some old hags that came by from time to time to discuss matters with “him.” his only task was to “sit politely and smile” as he only had to sit in the same room as his parents as they talked about their plans for his future, while he could only bore himself around with some books which he has probably read about three times now.

it certainly would be a nice change of fresh air, his mother would probably scold him for ruining his expensive clothing and befriending someone of lower status that wouldn’t benefit his family him. but, really at the current moment he really couldn’t care less. 

“sure.” he held out his hand, asking permission to intertwine your hand with his to shake hands. you reciprocated the action and placed your hand in his as you shook his hand in delight. 

“a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” the young boy said as he let go of your hand.

“yeah, same here!” you replied happily and suddenly started to search your pockets for something, as he could only wait. finally you pulled out a small fabric - a plaster he notices. “here!” you tried to hand it to him but he can only look at you in confusion. “for your wound on your knee.” you point out which immediately makes him look down, how come he didn't even notice? “ah, right.” he said, gratitude clearly showing in his voice as he sticks the plaster onto his knee.

“wait! i don't even know your name.” you say hastily as you pull out another item out of the pockets of your trousers, it’s a pen this time. “here take it and- ugh wait, it's such a hassle!” he could only look at you as you rolled up the sleeve of your striped shirt, revealing a plaster on your elbow. “here! sign it with your name. i’ll do the same, if that is of course okay with you.” you ask nervously. “yeah!” he says a little too quickly for his own liking, surprising himself.“i mean sure.” he corrects himself.

you only shook your head and smiled as your pen slid over his plaster, it tickled but he refrained from laughing, deeming it as unprofessional. he looked down at his knee, your name now brightly shining in a neon green on his plaster. he returns the action, elegant penmanship, lithe letters ornamenting the plaster on your elbow. 

satoru gojo, huh?

the atmosphere became a bit tense, you didn't notice not until satoru uttered a quiet “thank you.” and gave you an awkward smile, shy and not exactly knowing what to do.

you hope that he didn't notice the tips of your ears going red. “ah it's nothing” you say in a pip squeak voice, happily beaming at him. 

if satoru wasn't smiling before he definitely now was, grinning from ear to ear.

no, it's everything but nothing. 11 years ago, on one of the first days of autumn you showed satoru gojo just how beautiful the world outside can be. freeing him from the cage he was kept in. introducing him to the concept of “friends”,  - best friends.

there has always been an unspoken rule between the two of you to never say “i love you” to one another. bickering and banter like an old married couple, teasing each other with flirty remarks - anyone would guess that you’re dating. but the both of you always brushed it off by reasoning it with saying. “we’ve been friends ever since we were 6-7? he’s like a brother to me!”, “nope we’re just friends.”, “us? dating? no way!”

but everyone could tell that there was something going on between the two of you, perhaps everyone but you guys.

“aww, are those my initials you’re carving onto the desk? how romantic! reminds me of how you used to carve our initials into trees!” he teased.

“no, those are sugurus initials! s and g! suguru geto! dumbass.” you rejoindered. 

“they’re at it again?” shoko sighs. “have been for the past five minutes, you know what they’re like.” suguru replies as he offers to light up her cigarette which she happily agreed to, holding out her cigarette.

“i still think that satoru’s gonna confess first.” shoko said as she blew the smoke out of the classroom window. “don’t think so, he’s too scared to ruin their friendship or in other words he’s a pussy.” suguru answers. “hm, good point.” the brunette hums as she taps the cigarette against her lips.

“SHOKO NO SMOKING IN THE CLASSROOM!” utahime barged into the classroom and immediately threw the cigarette that shoko held in her hand out of the window. “aww, bummer, that was my last one.” shoko sighs. “well, maybe that's your sign to-”  “SATORU GET YOUR ASS BACK OVER HERE.” before utahime can finish scolding shoko, you interrupt her. “oh god, don't tell me they’re still at it.” utahime says, a deadpan expression on her face. 

“sorry to disappoint you.” shoko and suguru reply in unison which utahime can only scoff and roll her eyes at.

just normal best friend activities, right?

drinking out of the same bottle, sharing an indirect kiss. holding hands in big crowds to not lose each other, looking out for him only to find him already staring at you.

there have been many tender moments that the two of you shared together. because you’re best friends, siblings who aren’t related, different blood running through one anothers veins. 

so cuddling under the same blanket and humming melodies that put you at ease, patching him up after he’s hurt himself once again and delicately brushing over the bandaged wounds just like the first time the two of you met, sharing an umbrella and snuggling yourself on his shoulder. 

it’s normal, after all it has been like this ever since the two of you were children, so why should growing up change this?

because this is what best friends do, right?

a night sky filled with an endless amount of stars, the cloak of the night is wrapped around the two of you as the moon; the circled orb and the stars shine down on you, casting their bright light upon your bedroom.

one hand clinging around his disheveled white hair as the other one moves around his body, tracing his jaw down to his abdomen as you continue to kiss him. a pair of lips meeting another one, his tongue pokes at your lower lip, requesting access to enter, you oblige and he explores the depths of your mouth.

pulling away, face flushed and out of breath as you pant, but still wanting - longing and yearning for more.

you’re hit with the realization that normal friends don't do this.

sometimes your friends weren’t able to make time for you or rather they didn’t want to make time for you, excusing it by saying they’re busy with exams or they’re already meeting up with someone else - both being blatant lies.

as for satoru he was always available - he’d always make time for you. going to the new cafe you’ve discovered, come along and take a stroll with you, try out a new hobby - satoru would always be excited to try something new if it was with you.

comforting you as you’ve worried about failing your exams, helping you study and even offering to tutor you, soothing your worries by massaging your back or gently caressing your body. he’d always have a way to make you feel better.

perhaps the only friend you’ve ever needed by your side was your boyfriend.

the lock of your front door is clicking as satoru opens the door and barges into the entrance area of your shared home. “i’m home!” your husband announces loudly. 

upon hearing his voice you rush over to him, beaming as you spot him. “‘toru!” you wrap your arms around the crook of his neck as you bury your head into his chest and nuzzle your nose into his button up, inhaling his musky cologne. 

“you missed me so bad.” he teases. 

“yeah, guess i did.” your smile only widens when you look up to him and see his flustered expression.

you withdraw yourself from his body and take a step back. “what do you want for dinner?” you ask.

satoru can only slightly shrug with his shoulders. “i’m fine with anything as long as you cook it, nothing beats your food.” he replies as he removes his black jacket.

“oh shut up.” you roll your eyes as you giggle. 

“it’s the truth.” he laughs. 

“mhm, fine. but don’t complain when you’ll end up with megumi's leftovers.” you say.

“hey! no fair.” he chuckles. “but i suppose you’ve already tucked him into the bedsheets? eating before me, how could you!” he jokes in an offended manner and  you can only hum in response. “yeah it was tsumiki’s suggestion, she said she’d wanted to learn for a test but didn’t want to eat alone.” satoru can’t help his lips quirking up as he hears that, an affectionate smile finding its way onto his face.

you step over to your dining table and seat yourself onto one of the leather chairs, propping your chin on the palm of your left hand. your wedding ring glowing in the iridescent living room lightning.

the letters s.g. are finely engraved into the inside golden wedding band, symbolizing you as his and him as yours, as if he hasn't always been yours - wedding band or not. 

“come on, get changed, pretty boy.” you take a sip out of your kombucha tea and smile warmly.

“will do.” he returns your smile with an even softer one - a more lovesick one.

yeah, you have both him and his initials wrapped around your finger.

special shoutouts to @azullumi who's helped me with this (he didn't he literally sent me a deathwish -> me drowning..like hello..??) anyway azul i love love love love u sososososo much hhihihihi. (not pedo or reverse pedo??) talking to you is always such a fun part of my daily life/ became a part of my routine that always makes me look forward to it. even though time zones suck ass. (i should really start doing like a list of the things i wanna say here cause i feel like im getting repetitive) again anyway i hope school isn't kicking your ass too much right now, all your projects and exams etc. im wishing you luck with all of them but i already know that you're gonna pass with flying colors - if not i don't care, i'm proud of you regardless. ps: goodluck surviving 51° i'd literally melt into a puddle so like compliments and praises to you for surviving this fucking heatwave 😭😭

e/n: reblogs, comments, reblogs WITH comments are always very much appreciated!!

© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.

[katelynnwrites]

who's afraid of little old me? | lea schüller

warnings: slight homophobia and angst but with a happy ending

word count: 792

summary: you're far from perfect but lea loves you for it

a/n: the fifth installation of my 'the anthology' blurbs series

feral was the word your teachers used to describe you as, all untidiness and chaos.

you know your parents would describe you similarly, if you spoke to them anymore.

your girlfriend, lea, is the complete opposite. always neat and polite.

she is patient too, one of the many reasons she is such a brilliant striker. she can be counted on to wait for the precise moment to do what she is so well known for.

but her patience is also for you.

your parents hate you for being gay, hers accepted her wholeheartedly.

accepted you too, once the blonde introduced you as her partner.

it had scared you terribly at first, given you so much anxiety that this would be the second family you lose but lea soothes it all easily with sweet, gentle words of reassurance and love.

the german woman always knows the right words to say to you. how to calm you down is practically her special talent, given that she is the only person in the world who can do so.

she’s level headed and cool under pressure. once again the complete opposite of you, off the pitch.

you have your father’s temper and on occasion, your mother’s mean streak. both of their characteristics had greatly shaped your childhood.

it was an angry household that you grew up in, one that you have done everything to escape.

but the effects, despite your best efforts, linger.

you yell when you are scared and cornered. you’d rather deal with everything on your own, no matter how much you are struggling, than ask for help.

it took lea a while to figure you out.

to learn that you don’t intend on hurting her but rather, don’t know how else to react.

so it’s with patience that she teaches you to talk to her, to let her help you instead of shutting her out.

to let you know that she doesn’t expect anything in return because she loves you.

you and all your imperfections.

the way your parents raised you made you think that you owed someone every time they did something for you but your lea shows you otherwise.

she never asks for anything in return. only hopes that you let her love you and be there for you.

so you do. even if it means relearning things you have done your entire life.

you will let down your guard for lea because you love her too.

the bayern munich player has never caged you, never hurt you and never called you crazy, like a lot of people did when you were growing up.

you’re by no means an easy person to like. you’ve never made friends easily.

it had taken a few months for you to become at home, with the rest of your teammates.

you’re cold and clinical on the pitch and that’s the only side of you the fans see so you understand why you’re not a favourite like the blonde.

you can be mean and you can be petty. lea doesn’t have a selfish bone in her body.

in fact, you’re actually quite sure that a resentful thought has never once crossed her mind.

for you, showing kindness had to be learnt. it is innate in the german forward and with every day that she is by your side, she shows you that you can learn it.

it’s because of her influence that you snap less at people and instead, laugh a lot more with them.

you will never understand why lea with her beautiful blue eyes and bright smile that lights up anyone’s day fell for you like she did and chooses over and over again to love you.

it makes you the luckiest person in the world.

you know that most people who don’t know you, think of you as intimidating. with opponents, it’s in your favour so you are okay with it.

but lea’s never thought so.

‘who’s afraid of little old me?’ you used to think to yourself as you grew up in your loud and angry house.

you kept the peace there at the expense of your own, pushing down your own emotions just so you didn’t upset others.

lea’s shown you that you don’t need to do that anymore.

she won’t leave you. not when you are happy or content and certainly not when you are mad or anxious.

so ‘who’s afraid of little old me?’

it’s not lea. your lea’s never been and never will be.

instead, she sees the best in you.

with soft kisses and steady affection, nights spent safely in her arms and dates where your love for her only grows, the striker brings it out, so that the rest of the world can see it too.

[lovemomhatepolice]

lando norris nswf alphabet (part 2!) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) There is no chance that Lando will ever in his life ask you for anal sex or agree to it. NO CHANCE. Ever since he first heard about it in his life, it has disgusted and disturbed him so much at the same time that he stands away.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Well, don't tell me Lando doesn't look like a munch. Totally do. Okay, he's also a big fan of you on your knees in front of him, until it takes his breath away as he looks at you all smeared with his cum with a wide smile and trained lips. But oh boy! Sam sometimes begs you to lie down in front of him and let him give you pleasure. The biggest plus is that Lando is well trained in this. Damn knows where he acquired such skills, but they are unearthly.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Fast, but not violent. It's already in Lando's nature to speed everything up, but it's not painful in the process. With the rest, slow sex is not for you. Well, I beg you, where would all the fun be? The whole process is a little slower when Lando finally pushes you to the wall and your relationship is not in any comfortable place, but he continues to try to keep his cool.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) You love quickies. What more can be said here? You can't keep your hands off each other, so every possible opportunity to get even closer is even advisable. You definitely prefer it more, of course, when you have more time (and, most importantly, space), but when there is no such chance, quick fun together is fine for you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Norris has it in him that he likes to take risks - he doesn't spare himself from hot kisses with you in public or even light pinches or pats on your buttocks. But if the matter comes down to sex, I don't think he's taking too many risks. Lando respects his privacy after all, so sexual matters remain between you. Possibly in front of the whole club when you come out of the restroom quite smudged and giggly. Or in front of his family, well. What goes in the family doesn't die, right?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) As much as you want. Really. Lando I think is pretty darn sturdy and can fly several rounds at a time, which is no surprise to you. More than once, with light breaks, you spent the whole night like that. Sometimes it would even start to dawn and you would be in each other's naked embrace, the hot temperature of the room and a mass of giggles.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No, he doesn't own any toys. He just doesn't have any - he's not a contrarian, he himself even bought his friend an inflatable doll for his birthday. In your relationship he would sooner use some on you, so 100%, if you own a vibrator, Lando will reach for it at some point and see how it works on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Lando is so damn teasing! Once he will rub up against you, once he will "accidentally" touch you somewhere, once he will whisper such ungodly things to you, and then he will leave without a word. And during sex? I beg to differ. If only he has the strength to do so, he will interrupt until the last moment before your climax, just to hear your voice admonishing him in the midst of your moans.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Ay Lando is loud. In every possible aspect of his life, so in bed too. If he doesn't talk during sex, you definitely won't have it quietly anyway. Norris often giggles, and when he's not giggling, he's pretty darn vocal. Oj this boy is definitely not afraid to moan and show that he feels like heaven thanks to you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He loves, well he so much loves to brand you. He gets the same way when you bestow a hickey on his neck. Raspberries on your breasts? That's the standard. In summer it's hard to hide the signs of love from Lando under dresses and short tops. But that's what he loves. He proudly shows off whether it's his neck or his chest.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Well I think above average. Although Lando is not some particularly tall and massive, that's what his advantage is. I'm telling you that there's something about his pants that you don't expect ;P

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) God. Huge. As I mentioned before - you can't take your hands off each other. If you could, you would fuck each other every day. No matter what way - any way would be good. That's why yes, the sex drive Lando threw up when he first met you. And no matter what you do or what you're wearing! Remember

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Ay, it depends on the moment. Anyone who knows Lando knows well that he happens to fall asleep in the least expected places and circumstances. This is also the case after your sex, but by the fact that there are a lot of emotions in between, he has to talk them out first, and only then can he go to sleep. After proper after care on your part and his, you both fall asleep in each other's embrace (Lando on your breasts)

A/N: part one if you miss it, english is my second language i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 200 followers! maybe I can get in by the end of the week?

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | drabble

“Daddy’s not bluffing, baby love”

A/N: you know you’re super dedicated when you find yourself at home ✨practicing✨ just so that the smut makes sense and is easy to visualize 👹 and just when I thought that Joel and baby love couldn’t get any nastier…😮‍💨 oh, and just in case anyone gets confused with the addition of Ellie, this is after she’s adopted (spoilers, but not really bc she’s Joel’s kid in every universe let’s be real)

~word count: 2.0k~

Summary: Ellie is away at Dina’s for the weekend leaving you and Joel with the house completely to yourselves

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: smut, established relationship. reader and Joel are pornstars, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her 30’s, big ole fat daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv, big dom energy from Joel, baby love is acting like brat, sexual punishment, spanking, degrading language but it’s hot, okay?, use of slut, brat, etc, semi-public sex, voyerism (Tommy), language, mentions of alcohol, Ellie exists in this universe!!, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is baby love, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

Ellie was away for the weekend with Dina and her family leaving you and Joel with the house completely to yourselves…which was a rare occurrence these days.

You and Joel have since then moved the home studio back to the Miller-Co office. You aren’t doing much filming these days, anyway. This was a mutual decision, and this also gave Tommy the opportunity to show Joel that he could handle the business on his own come the day that you and Joel would eventually retire. But with Ellie gone for the weekend, you and Joel had the time to relax and that’s how you found yourselves spending the morning by the pool.

Joel was comfortably laying poolside, cheaters perched on his nose that was buried in the book he was reading that Ellie had recommended to him. Artemis was laying by his feet, bathing in the sun while you were lounging in the pool. You had discarded your bikini top to the pool's edge to avoid any tan lines while you were lounging on your stomach along one of the extremely comfortable, and extra durable inflatables.

Artemis had grown curious of the water as she watched you float by, and before Joel could stop her, she hopped down from the chair and trotted over to the pool's edge. She was an agile little thing, having no problem jumping right onto your bare back and curling up against your warm, sunbathed skin.

Joel shook his head, muttering under his breath as he reached for his phone so he could take a picture while you reached one hand behind your back to give her a few gentle pets.

He posted the photo to his instagram with the caption: my two sun babies 🌞💓

Ellie had texted the family group chat immediately when she saw the photo:

I hope you’re disinfecting the pool before I get home 🙄

Joel: shouldn’t you be off your phone and paying attention to Dina, kiddo? 🤔

Ellie: u text like an old man lol

Baby Love: lol. He does

Tommy: where was my invite?

Joel: I do not text like an old man 😡

-to Tommy: inappropriate

Ellie: do too 🤭

Tommy: inappropriate that I wanna come over and swim?? Get ur head out of the gutter lol

Joel: do not

Baby Love: you’re not gonna win this one, baby.

Ellie: see, even mom agrees!

Joel: there’s too many gals in this household 🙄

Ellie: yea, man! Ur outnumbered lol

Joel: don’t I know it

Tommy: I’m coming over

Joel: no you’re not

Baby Love: can you bring a case of Modelo’s?

Ellie: I don’t think Tommy knows what those are lol

Joel: how would you know what those are? 👀

Ellie: did I say something?

Tommy: why can’t u just be normal and drink Coors Lite lol

Joel: don’t start gaslighting me young lady

Baby Love: because unlike u, I have taste

Ellie: ooooh burn

Tommy: ouch 😓 I thought we were friends!

Joel: 😒

Ellie: I’m more of a Modelo gal myself

Joel: ELLIE

Baby Love: that’s my girl!

-to Tommy: we are friends 🩷 you just have shit taste in beer

Joel: where are u getting beer from

Ellie: that’s none of your beeswax

Joel: Ellie Miller, I will ground your ass so fast the second you get home

Baby Love: it was me. I’m the culprit

Tommy: I don’t forgive u

Ellie: don’t punish mom! She said I can drink as long as I’m safe 😇

Tommy: lol I’m not coming over, I changed my mind!

Baby Love: but my Modelos :(

Joel to Baby Love in a private chat:

“Who the fuck do you think you’re callin’ a pussy?!” He growled from the chair, completely sitting up now with his legs swung over the side just as you quickly tucked your phone underneath your left boob and looked over your shoulder at him with a faux innocent expression on your face.

“I am, pussy.”

“Wanna say that a third time?” He challenged you, standing up with his hands planted on his hips as he approached the edge of the pool. Even Artemis sensed the tension rise so she quickly hopped off your back as soon as the raft was close to the pool's ledge.

“Artie.” You frowned, “come back. Daddy’s only messing! He’s not actually gonna do anything!” You grabbed your phone from under your boob and carefully placed it on the pools ledge so it wouldn’t get wet, and just as you were about to push the raft back to the middle of the pool to float away, Joel hand crouched down and grabbed ahold of the corner of the raft, yanking you towards him.

“I said, wanna say that a third time?” He snipped.

Oh he’s mad now, alright.

You let out a huff, rolling over onto your back so your bare tits were on full display with your arms languidly crossed behind your head as you peered up at him through your sunglasses, smirk plastered on your pretty lips, “daddy’s a pussy and he’s not gonna do anything about it.” You chimed.

“Fuckin’ little brat.” He muttered as he pushed your raft away from the ledge before he dove in underneath it.

You quickly flipped over onto your stomach, pathetically attempting to paddle away just as he resurfaced with his face inches away from your dangling ankles. You let out a playful squeal when he nibbles on your calf as his big hands and broad arms easily slide up your thighs, thumbs looping through the flimsy strings that are barely holding your bikini bottoms together. Even in the deep end of the pool, Joel is standing, more like…looming over the raft and casting a dark shadow over your bare back.

“Don’t think ya heard me the first time, baby love.” He rasps, yanking your bikini bottoms down swiftly over your ass and thighs, “said that you had ‘bout five seconds to take these flimsy ass bikini bottoms off before I did it for you.” He tuts, grasping the outside of your thighs as he pulls you further down the length of the raft as if you’re just a measly rag doll. “And then what do ya do?” He asks, not needing a response.

“You call me a fuckin’ pussy.” He bends over, harshly biting at your left cheek, leaving visible indentations in your skin from his canines, “slutty little brat my girl is, hmm?” He teases, biting down on the right cheek as you let out a squeal.

He pulls back, marveling at his work before he brings the palm of his hand down against the meatiest part of your left cheek hard enough to send your back arching in surprise. He watches your plush skin recoil before he does it again, and then the same to the right cheek.

“I’m—I’m sorry, daddy! You aren’t a pussy! Not even close to being one!”

“You ain't sorry, baby love. Cus’ this is what you wanted all along, right? Wanted your daddy to come in here and teach his bratty little slut a lesson? Well, your wish is comin’ true!” He chuckles, using his thumbs to spread your cheeks apart before he spits a glob of saliva between them, watching it drool and drip between your ass and thighs. “Show me your fuckin’ pussy, baby love. Be a good girl now for daddy.”

“Yes, daddy.” You mewled, “you got me. It was my plan all along.” you suppress a giggle, lifting yourself up on your elbows as you spread your thighs apart, arching your back further so he had a clear and direct view of your pussy. “You gonna give my pussy a kiss daddy? I’m really sorry.” He doesn’t need to see your face to know that you’re pouting.

He scoffs, dropping his hands down from your ass to spread you open further. He intently watches the way your little hole pulses under his harsh stare, begging for any form of stimulation. “You think I’m gonna give your pussy a kiss, baby love? Think you deserve that?” He snickers, leaning in to drag his nose right through your slick folds, inhaling deeply before he pulls back, “think you oughta just take whatever daddy fuckin’ gives ya, sweet girl.”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, dropping your head between your shoulders, “Daddy, please. I’m so sorry for calling you a pussy! I’ll—I’ll never do it again, I swear!”

“Hush up, baby love. Quit your whinin’ and take what daddy fuckin’ gives you.” He growled. It was a miracle that even with his added weight to the float, the damn thing didn’t pop from the pressure as he wasted no time to slip two of his thick fingers inside of your pussy till they were knuckle deep with his palm pressing flat between the apex of your thighs. You felt the weight of his chest and shoulders pressing into your back while his fingers shallowly thrusted inside of you at a merciless pace, scissoring you open with each thrust, creating ripples in the water below the raft.

O—oh—oh fuck! Fuck! Fuccck!” You cried out, lurching forward as his fingers pistoned inside of you, “daddy, please! Please! I’m sorry!” Your eyes rolled back in your skull when he crooks his fingers, curling them against the spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing spots of stars cloud your vision.

He’s leaned over you completely now in a possessive manner. His lips at your ear, teeth nipping and biting anywhere they can, “if you’re a good fuckin’ slut for daddy, maybe he’ll reward you with his cock, because you and I both know that’s what my girl wants is her daddy’s thick cock splittin’ her in fuckin’ half. Ain’t that right, baby love?”

“YES!” You yelled, voice strained and on the verge of cracking as you started to roll your hips back against his hand, meeting the harsh thrusts of his fingers just as the back gate opened—

“Hey! I brought the Modelos—OH FUCK!” Tommy yelled in surprise, nearly dropping the case of beer in his arms at the sight of you coming undone around Joel’s fingers.

“GOD DAMMIT, TOMMY! I FUCKIN’ SAID YOU COULDN’T COME OVER!” Joel snapped, thrusting his fingers faster as he briefly glanced over his shoulder at his brother, “can’t ya damn well see I’m a little busy punishin’ my girl for bein’ a fuckin’ brat?!”

You weakly waved in Tommy’s direction, before completely giving into the pleasure with a blissed out look plastered on your face, “pass me one of those when we’re done! I’m parched!”

“Yeah, you’re fuckin’ parched alright.” Joel growled against your ear.

“Some things never change, ain’t that right Artie?” Tommy snickered as he attempted to crouch down and pet her, but she hissed and swatted at his hand.

“TOMMY!” Joel snapped, using his freehand to push his swim trunks over his hips so that he could replace his fingers with his cock. “Make yourself useful and gimme one of those beers, would ya!” He spit into his palm as his cock sprang free and slapped up against his stomach. He gave the base of his cock a few quick pumps before he slipped his fingers out of you, your pussy made a wet squelching noise as he slowly fed you his cock, inch by inch, stretching you open till he was bottomed out with his hips firmly pressed against your ass. The float had deflated considerably, but man, it was a trooper.

Tommy walked over, beer in hand, doing his best to not smirk at the scene unfolding before him as he held the beer out in Joel’s direction. “What did she do this time?” He mused.

Joel snatched the beer from his hand, twisting the cap off with his teeth before he took a swig, bringing his freehand down against your ass.

“I called him—fuck.” You moaned deeply, lip harshly taken between your teeth when he stretched you open. God, did you love your man’s cock.

“She called me a fuckin’ pussy.” Joel snapped his hips forward with his hand acting as an anchor around your hip. He took another swig from the bottle, blunt fingernails digging into your skin, “now fuck yourself on daddy’s cock like the good little slut that you are, baby love.”

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[yabakuboi]

you ask for ficlet prompts, and a prompt you shall receive:

merman Steve please and thank you 🙏

blows you a kiss, i would do anything for you also im mixing a lot of lore here im so sorry

He grew up lonely. Nereides live solitary lives mostly, only gathering when called, when there is need. He spent many years roaming and exploring deep oceans, only seeing his kind in passing moments of trade and exchange. It is a very lonely life, and he never understands why he was so different from the resst, when all of his kind are perfectly happy in their solitude.

The ocean is vast, and there aren't many nereides in this part of the world. But there are a lot of humans—humans who are never alone, he finds, always accompanied by others in their boats and their swims.

He loves to watch them. They are fascinating, these land people who throw themselves into the ocean with excitement and joy and curiosity. He watches from a distance, filled with longing and envy, as these creatures leave the safety of their home to touch the sea.

It's how he finds Dustin, as its little body struggles as a rip tide pulls it from the shores. He knows he shouldn't, knows how dangerous humans are, but still, he rushes to it as the tiny thing wanes, stills, and brings it to the surface.

They float there together, the human and the nereid, just above the water, the human gasping for breath, trembling against him, until finally it speaks. Or screeches really. "HOLY SHIT!"

He doesn't understand the words, but he understands the meaning. "Holy shit," he says back to the human, because he's kind of feeling the same way.

The human begins to babble a whole lot of other things, and he has no idea what any of it means. He knows a little of human speech, things overheard, but he knows none of these words. This goes on for a long time, the two of them floating in the water alone, until finally the human points at itself and says, "Dustin."

"Dustin," he repeats.

"Dustin!" the human says again, gesturing at itself.

Ah, this is a Dustin. "Dustin," he says, agreeing, and uses his free hand to pat the human's head. Dustin then points, its little finger wagging in his face.

"You?"

"You?"

The Dustin says something again, but he doesn't understand it, distracted by a human boat shooting across the water towards them now. The Dustin is saying a lot of things still, but it's quickly approaching.

"Good-bye," he says to the Dustin, hoping that's the correct word. He ducks under the water and releases it, waiting a moment to make sure it floats, before darting back into the depths—only so far as to not be seen from the surface, even when the little human sticks its head underwater and looks around. Soon, the boat is beside it, and the Dustin is pulled from the sea.

He tries not to be sad about it. Dustin was wiggly and warm, and it was nice to hear it talk so loudly and so much. Nereides rarely speak like humans do, and he wishes that Dustin could teach him a few more of his words.

"Holy shit," he says, alone in the water, and decides to come back again tomorrow. Maybe he can see Dustin again.

[srbachchan]

DAY 5919

StWork, Mumbai May 2, 2024 Thu 12:49 PM

Birthday - EF - Elena Iankova Friday, 3 May .. and all our wishes for a happy birthday

🌹

Yo !

here before time for a very big change .. haha ..

but at work and got a bit of time and BOOM !

got to say the travel from Juhu home to work Marine Drive in 30 mins .. amazing Coastal Road and the Tunnel emerging on Marine Drive , just before its flyover and simply amazing .. !

Super constructed roads, tunnel, neat clean construct .. no traffic jams .. and done ..

Ok just to change the topic .. here is something to know :

Know what is a "mondegreen?'

MONDEGREENS

If you’ve been listening to rock music, you know it’s often hard to make out the lyrics. They sing it their way and we hear it our way.

Jimi Hendrix famously sang the phrase “While I kiss the sky” which was heard by thousands as “While I kissed this guy.”

CCR’s popular song originally said, “There’s a bad moon on the rise.” Many heard it as “There’s a bathroom on the right.”

Deep Purple’s still-popular chorus (known for its timeless guitar riff) “Smoke on the water/Fire in the sky” was misheard as “Smoke on the water/Fire engine guy.”

Nirvana’s anthem “Smells like Teen Spirit” had the lines, “Here we are now/Entertain us.” They were misheard as, “Here we are now/In containers.”

When Elvis Presley sang, “Everybody in the whole cell block”, many heard it as” Everybody in a wholesale frock”

There’s actually a word for misheard lyrics like these.

Mondegreen.

Some mondegreens became so famous that even artistes like Hendrix and CCR sang the misheard versions in their live concerts in a spirit of fun and tease.

It’s not just in pop songs that mondegreens occur. The US national anthem begins with the lofty words, “Oh say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light.’ Some heard them as “José, can you see…”

Occasionally, mondegreens had an interesting side-effect. Joe Cocker sang of a ‘lovely planet’ which was misheard as ‘lonely planet.’ The latter became the name of a well-known travel guide series of books.

No one knows why we hear the wrong thing although there are theories. It’s akin to the game of Chinese Whispers where the original line gets progressively distorted into some hilarious garbage by the time it reaches the last guy.

Mondegreens are not restricted to English alone. South Indians, with limited knowledge of Hindi, were taught patriotic songs in Hindi by zealous teachers. A popular one had the repeating phrase, “Bara tamata.” School students sang it with great gusto. Years later, some of them realized the actual words were “Bharat Mata.”

A popular line from Qurbani song, “Aap jaisa koi meri/zindagee mein aaye/ toh baat bun jaaye” was understood as “Aap jaisa koi…toh baap bun jaaye.” The defective version made sense to many who saw Zeenat Aman gyrating on those lyrics while gaping at Feroz Khan.

Many who weren’t familiar with the hill station between Bombay and Pune heard the Gulaami song as “Haathi ka andaa la” until they realized it was “Aati kya Khandala”.

I have a friend, her name is Geeta. Her family called her Gitu. Throughout her childhood and youth, she thought Rajesh Khanna was singing for her, when he said, ”Mere sapnon ki raani kab aaye Gitu”.

'Mondegreen' sounds French but isn't. In 1954, a writer at Harper’s Magazine remembered how as a little girl she misheard an old English ballad. The actual words, saluting a dead war hero, were:

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘭 𝘰' 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯.

She heard them as:

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘭 𝘰' 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯.

And thus was born the word ‘mondegreen’ to signify all misheard lyrics from that moment on.

Turns out, mondegreen itself started life as a mondegreen.

sent to me by a friend .. 🤣🤣

More perhaps later .. or perhaps not ..

Amitabh Bachchan

and some more .. a very pertinent article in TOI ..

[thebestofoneshots]

No Sweeter Innocence than Our Gentle Sin Pt.1 | Remus Lupin x Reader

Pairing: Priest!Remus x reader

Word Count: 8.6 k

Prompt: You did not want to go to church that day, but your spirits are uplifted when you meet Father Remus, and your mind starts creating a mischievous scheme, to both retaliate over those years of being forced to go and take something from them.

Alternatively, R is really mad at the church and decides to steal one of their priests for it (but also kind of falls for him).

Warnings: SMUT, Non-apt for Christians(?). Reader is a little cynical (or maybe cynical Af). Suggestive talks, touching oneself, fingering. Reader seduces a Priest (so whatever you might expect from that), hierophiIia, corruption!kink, praise!kink (if you squint). Consent is sexy!

 Proofread by lovely @aremuslupinsimp

♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut

ACT I: Remember to keep holy the LORD’s Day

You really didn’t want to go to church. You had one hell of a week and you were incredibly tired so when you got the phone call with your grandma inviting you to go, you were about ready to say no. 

But your grandma has always been extremely catholic, and while you weren’t anymore, you hadn’t seen her in a while, and you missed her. Her being in town for your short vacation was a good enough reason to visit her more often (she was staying with your parents) and if you’d have to live through a whole hour of some boring priest talking about all the things that are wrong with society nowadays, then you would. Even if you didn’t want to. 

That didn’t stop you from being cranky over the fact that you’d have to wake up extra early to take the 40-minute ride to the church she claimed “was the best one in the city,” according to her priest back at home (of course she couldn’t just ask you to the nearest fucking church). 

Breathe, you told yourself. This is for your grandma, you repeated as you sat on the narrow seat of public transport, next to the gym bro that smelled like he could use a shower and whose massive arms would bump into you whenever the bus went through a pothole. 

When you finally reached your spot, you had to wake him up so he would move his massive legs to the side and you could fucking pass through, walking down the bus in the sea of people that for some reason had taken the same one. Once outside you took a deep breath and tried to relax again. You didn’t want to look as pissed as you felt when you finally saw your grandma. At least it was a fucking cloudy day and you wouldn’t have to deal with the sun as you walked the 4 blocks left you had until you arrived at the church. 

Who the fuck would invent a church so goddamn far from everything important? You wondered as you approached. 

Oh, you thought once you saw it. Someone who wanted a lot of space then. 

The church was massive. And while you might have been prone to exaggerate when you were pissed, you were far from exaggerating now. It was almost a small castle, maybe the largest church in the city, certainly the largest one you had seen in your life (not that you had seen a great many but certainly a few). 

On the outside, there were very many intricate details carved, a few gargoyles at the top in a very Notre Dame-esque sort of way. Except while Notre Dame ended in a very square and neat way, the towers of this one extended far above the roof and ended in a pointy, almost menacing sort of way. You had been so absorbed by the intricate details of the tower, that you didn’t realise you were walking straight into someone. 

“Uhh sorry,” you said as you stumbled back, pulling your gaze from the structure and towards the person right in front of you. You were absorbed by him the second your eyes met his: golden brown, almost shining with the way the sun was hitting them. You weren’t sure you had ever seen a more perfect person in your life, they were exactly your–

“I see you’ve met Father Remus!” Your grandma said as she grabbed onto your arm and pulled you back from him a couple more steps. 

Father? He’s married? You wondered until you noticed his clothes, all-black suit, white necktie, she meant Father as in Priest?!?

The man –Remus– smiled, gentle, sweet and caring. “Nice to meet you…” there was silence. It took you a second to realise the man was expecting your name, and you gave it to him, fast and still slightly disoriented. 

“Come on, angel,” your nan said as she pulled you towards the entrance. “We can talk after the mass.” 

“Nice to meet you, Remus,” you said, turning up your most charming smile as you waved goodbye to the man. His eyes seemed to trail on your hand, but your grandma pulled you again, and you were forced to turn around. 

“It’s Father Remus,” your grandma corrected. 

“Right, sorry,” you said, almost carelessly, not carelessly enough for her to notice, though. 

“I’m glad you came, I don’t think any of your cousins made it.”

“Oh, it was nothing, Nan,” you said as you turned around to see if Remus was still around. He was not anymore, you turned back to her. “It’s lovely to be here with you.” 

That wasn’t entirely a lie, you liked spending time with her, she was lovely. But you did not like going to the church, you had long parted with the catholic ideals and you weren’t interested in most of the archaic teachings of the church. Especially the homophobic ones, you thought the closed-mindedness of the church was a terrible thing, and that it stopped many people from being who they truly were, not to mention how it affected a lot of people you knew. It was because of that close-mindedness that some of your friends had to hide themselves from their parents. Because god forbid their children were gay.

Now, not everything about the church was bad, some values were good and important, but at this point in the progressive world, perhaps the bad outweighed the good. And in the end, religions were just a way of controlling the masses, no surprise the church service was called “mass”. 

You could have made a list of everything that was wrong, in a very Lutheran manner, sent it to your grandma and never attended again, but she was old and you knew there was no way she’d understand, especially when she’d been conditioned to think a certain way for far more years than you’d been alive. So instead, you decided to sit through the service with her, and make her happy, rather than be the rebel you sometimes wanted to be.

Ah the service, it was boring until Remus came out. If you thought he’d look handsome in the cassock, you could have been awestruck when you saw him wearing that white alb. Yes, those Sunday school days had taught you enough. He wore a cincture around the waist that matched the alb, and you’d swear you deserve hell when you pictured yourself pulling the entire thing off him in a secret corner of the massive church. In the middle of mass, while the head priest kept talking about things related to Jesus and how he saved someone or whatever, you were thinking of calm and collected Father Remus, losing control and giving in to the lust of the flesh, and all of it for you. 

A small smirk played on your face as you thought of all the things you’d like to do to Remus, of all the sounds you’d have him make. Was it sinful? Perhaps. Did it warrant hell? Most likely. Luckily, you didn’t believe in hell any more than you believed in heaven.

And then it came to you. The idea that would certainly warrant a hell of a lot more than your lewd imaginings. If stealing was a sin, then how sinful would it be to steal something from god? To pilfer one of his men for yourself?

What an ungodly thing to do, so devilish that perhaps you wouldn’t be in hell to be punished but rather to punish. Was it perhaps a revenge for being forced into church for so many years, for having to sit through hours of Sunday School and the indoctrination you had to put up with but somehow managed to see past? Yeah. But at this point, you weren’t sure you cared. Something about Remus had sucked you in like a moth to a flame and you wanted to cling to whatever that was. Otherwise, you might have not be able to go through with your plan. 

It wouldn’t happen all in one day, it couldn’t happen all in one day. It had to be slow, steady, and repetitive, like the snake tempting Eve, like Eve tempting Adam. You hadn’t seen yourself as a sexy woman throughout your life, at least not the kind of Sexy Femme Fatale that men seemed to live and diе for in movies. No, you had never been like that, and you wouldn’t start today. But you would perform the most outrageous and strong act of seduction you had ever thought of and it had to be done perfectly, or you wouldn’t get what you wanted.

What was it that you wanted again? Right, you wanted Remus Lupin.

ACT II: Thou shall not steal 

“When was the last time you confessed?” Your Nan whispered as she leaned onto you, people were already standing for communion. 

You hesitated. “I’m not sure, Nan.” 

She hummed in return, clearly disapproving of your distancing from the church. You were sure she would have called you heathen if you said the truth, it had been years. 

“I could go up and confess now,” you said as you looked at the confessionary in the back, you had seen Remus enter it, but you suspected it was too soon to start with the plan. 

“No darling, repent for your sins and you can confess later. Perhaps after mass.” 

“Or during the week,” you said with a knowing smile. 

“Isn’t it a long way from your apartment?” 

“I’m sure it’ll be worth it anyway.” 

She stood up and took the communion, leaving you sitting on the chair and looking at the way people would walk toward the altar. Judging them, if that made sense. There was a woman who accommodated her breasts back in her seat before standing up, she threw a look at one of the other priests as she took the host. You gave her an approving sort of glance before you turned to someone else. Now you didn’t exactly consider her way of seducing appealing, but then again, yours wouldn’t be much better either. So to each their own. The man behind her had been touching himself in the very back of the church and had stared at her ass throughout the entire line, probably for more material. 

Sinners, the church claiming to be so saint, and it was full of them. 

You weren’t much better than them either, the difference is that you didn’t harbour the same hate towards yourself for it. No, you knew what nature was and you knew that despite how much we humans pretended to be better, we still were all animals. And there are a few things that animals want and need. Love, or the act of love, was one of them. That’s what you’d be using to your favour. 

When your Nan came back, you helped her kneel and do her praying; all the while you attentively looked around. Remus had left the concessionary already and he was at the front with the rest of the priests. He spotted you looking at him and you smiled kindly, innocently at him. The kind of smile someone with the thoughts surging in your head wouldn’t be able to give, and yet, you accomplished it seamlessly.

He gave you a courteous nod and you reciprocated it. The rest of the mass was as boring as you’d expect it to be; except for the fact that Remus was looking at you rather often, either he was curious about their new parishioner, or he was interested. Either way, you were sure you’d be able to use that in your favour. 

When the mass was over, you had to wait for all of them to exit the church first and then you helped your Nan stand and walked with her towards the entrance. Remus was there, giving short blessings and handing out some pamphlets about donations and other similar stuff. Your grandma was the one to pull you towards him. “What a wonderful mass,” she said. “Father Ernest was onto something when he told me to come here while I was in the city.” 

“Thank you,” Remus said bashfully, you could almost see him blush at the praise. What would a real blush look on him? You were dying to know. 

“Wonderful indeed, although I would have liked to hear your interpretation of the verses, Remus,” You said. 

“Father Remus,” your grandma corrected. 

“Oh, it’s fine. If it feels more personal you may call me just Remus, dear one.” 

You tried to hold back the snide smile you would have thrown your Nan had it been any other woman. You could call him Remus. You were a dear one. 

“Right, perhaps another day,” you added with a smile and pulled your grandma to the side so the next person could take the blessing. 

“I preach on Wednesdays,” Remus said, tone borderline desperate, as he raised his head over the people and women piling around him. Clearly, you weren’t the only one to harbour a little crush on Father Remus. It didn’t matter though, because you’d be the one to have him. 

Next Wednesday you didn’t make any plans, and you put on something simple but elegant. A squared-neck shirt and a pair of jeans. When you arrived at the church, you didn’t waste as much time admiring it, instead, you decided to walk straight inside. His mass had started already, and you sneaked in through the side until you reached the third row of seats. There weren’t as many people as you’d expect on a Wednesday, but Remus was preaching like there were hundreds. He was wonderful.

He had a way with words that made you want to listen, perhaps if you weren’t so cynical, it would even convert you. But rather than thinking of his prayer, you were thinking of how incredible he would be as a teacher, you imagined the students, squirming for him and his words in their seats. You imagined the older, more daring girls going after him. You were lucky that wasn’t the situation, the kind of woman that could seduce any man had the benefit of practice that you didn’t. You wouldn’t have stood a chance against them. 

But the kind of woman that went to the church, the kind that flocked to him at the end of mass, they weren’t a threat. They were too pious to try anything even remotely similar to what you had in mind. In fact, you even dared to think you were lucky that he had been a priest and not a teacher because then he would have perhaps been married, and while you were willing to take a man from god, you would never take one from another woman. You had limits. 

After the mass was over, you waited a few minutes before leaving the church “accidentally” bumping into him again. “Remus,” you said with a smile. “We seem to continue bumping into each other,” you added as you leaned closer to him and pressed your cheek to his, making a low smacking sound, and then repeating on the other side. He looked bewildered at the contact. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I got this habit while I was in France and I still haven’t shaken it off completely.” 

“Oh… No, no,” hesitant, bashful, you loved every bit of it. “Not at all, it’s fine. You can greet me however you like.” 

“Is that privilege reserved to me, or does every other parishioner have it?” He seemed taken aback by your words. “I’m joking, Remus,” you added and placed your hand on his arm, before pulling it back tentatively. “Your mass was wonderful.” 

“Thank you, I’m lucky to work at Saint Gryffin.” 

“The way I see it, Saint Gryffin is lucky to have you. I mean lots of women come here to see the beautiful priest Remus.” 

“You think?” he asked. Remus didn’t exactly consider himself handsome, he thought his scars would scare people away rather than attract them. But he sometimes failed to see past them and didn’t pay attention to his beautiful eyes, to his charming smile, to his long lashes, or to his well-toned frame. It was as if he had been carved by Michael Angelo himself, from your perspective.

“For sure,” you replied. “Take a closer look at the way they look at you on Sunday and you’ll see.” He blushed, a deeper shade of red than your Nan had pulled out of him, you resisted the urge to bite your lip and smiled instead. “Today was lovely, I’ll see you around,” you said before waving goodbye and exiting the church. 

You went again a week later, Remus would sometimes lose his focus on the bible and look at you instead. That day you had chosen a skirt. Nothing too short or indecent, but certainly short enough to allow your legs to be seen and admired. An older man hadn’t stopped staring at you throughout the mass, and you would have perhaps told him off if it hadn’t been for the fact that Remus had been in a similar position.

Remus’ distraction, his hesitance and his constant turning to you were enough to drive your attention away from the man and onto him. You would smile, and you would nod, and you would pretend to be a supportive little lamb. Innocent, and meek and kind. Just what he expected from you. And it was that Wednesday, the third time that you’d met him, that you realised you had him right where you wanted him to be. 

He for sure had a thing for you, be it curiosity, admiration, or a small crush. You had gotten his attention, and you had gotten into his mind. Now all you needed was to have him. 

ACT III: Thou shall not Covet someone else’s property 

The next Wednesday you had been late, you had allowed your hair to be slightly dishevelled and your cheeks were warm, despite the autumn getting colder. You had bitten your lips and you looked like you had just gotten away from a dire situation. You’d done it on purpose. When his gaze fell on you he almost stopped talking completely. He staggered to complete his words and you nodded for him to go on. When he was done, he rushed out, and you stayed in your seat. Eyes closed and hands clasping each other, pretending to pray. 

That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, he whispered your name. “Are you okay, Little Lamb?” 

It took a real effort not to laugh at his nickname. Not because you thought it was stupid, but because you were so far from a lamb that you might as well have been the wolf that ate it. You turned to him, fake distress clouding your features, “I’ve done something terrible, Remus.” 

He was kind, almost impossibly so, it almost made you want to stop your plan and leave him the pure man he was. 

Almost.

“I’m sure there’s nothing you could do, that was as bad as you’ve described.” 

“I’d like to confess,” you said. “Would you take my confession?” 

Remus seemed hesitant, biting his lip. He knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t hear your confession, not when he wanted to maintain a personal relationship with you, not when he’d develop a crush. But it was in your preoccupied gaze, in the small frown that etched your features, in the way your lips curved down and in the bobbing of your throat as you swallowed. How ever could he deny you? 

Oh, those thoughts would be the ones that would drag him into sin, nay, not drag, but rather, waft him into it. If Remus hadn’t been so enamoured by you, perhaps corrupting him would have proved a harder task to accomplish for you. 

“Okay,” he said simply. And helped you stand. Guiding you towards the empty confessionary and sitting in his spot as you opened the door to the other one. It was a narrow place, enough for you to sit. There was a screen dividing the two of you, you couldn’t see him, but you suspected he could see you. And there was a small, square hole in between, enough to fit perhaps a hand. You assumed it was there in case you’d like to give something to the priest, as a thank you. 

Remus cleared his throat, and in the most professional way he could muster he said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. My child, what brings you to the sacrament of confession today?”

His voice had been different, stronger as if he was trying not to be himself. You loved it. “Father, I come seeking forgiveness for my sins. I have strayed from the path of righteousness and I seek reconciliation,” you let your voice bend and crack near the end. 

 “I am here to listen, my child. Let us begin with a moment of reflection. Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess.” 

You held back the smirk that threatened to appear when he said that, just in case he was actually able to see you. “I have fallen in love with a man I cannot have.” 

“Oh, darling,” he said, that was Remus, not Father Remus. You had cracked through his façade and you hadn’t even started. “That is not a sin. It’s happened to the best of us.” 

“But it is a sin the way I think of him, Father,” you responded. You heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t speak further. “I have dreamt of him, of his lips, of his eyes with long lashes, the way his hair frames his face, of his beautiful and strong hands–” Remus tried not to be jealous of the man you described, but everything about him seemed perfect, and unlike himself, he probably could have you. Your beautiful lips, and eyes, focused solely on him. He hated the guy already. “–sliding between my legs, and touching me.” 

“Do not speak further,” there was an edge of alarm in his voice. A bit of a broken end to it. 

“Oh but Father I must,” you said. “If I don’t I’m afraid I’ll act upon my feelings in the same way I did today while thinking of him.” 

“You…” he hesitated. “You touched yourself… Is that why you’re here?” 

“Yes,” you replied with a frown, almost a wince, all of it an act, of course. 

“Pray Our Father 10 times and–” 

“No! Allow me to relate my story, Father,” he tried to stop you. “I must, I must, or then I might go to him and offer myself in a terrible, ungodly manner and then I won’t ever be deserving of the church ever again.”

Frankly, you didn’t even know how you’d gotten so inspired, but Remus relented, nodding and when he realised you hadn’t heard, he bit his cheek and said. “Go on then.” 

You sighed, that was a real sigh, you weren’t sure you’d get this far. “I had a dream of him, Father. He was handsome as ever, and he looked at me, with such kind eyes, with such loving eyes, that when he leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t stop him.” 

Remus was already praying for himself. He did not want to imagine you in your bed, your hair sprawled over the pillow and your mind away in a dream, kissing another man. 

“I didn’t stop him when he pinned me against the wall, and I didn’t stop him when his hand dug under my shirt. I said nothing when it travelled to my breast, and I all but moaned when he pinched my nipple.” 

“That is enough, I get the idea.” 

“But that’s not the whole dream,” you protested, you sounded mortified. How could he stop your repentance for his own misguided thoughts? A man of God wasn’t supposed to harbour this kind of feelings for a fellow human, he was not meant to like you so much, and his pants were not meant to be as uncomfortable. 

“You don’t have to go onto the details–” 

“But Father, I must repent for all of my sins.” 

Remus sighed, “Go on then.” 

“And then when he reached down, oh Remus, I spread my legs for him rather than shut them close…” you didn’t say a thing. You could hear his breathing had gotten a lot more ragged. “He slid this hand through my knickers and touched me, that place that should only be touched by your husband. And… it felt good. I moaned his name until my voice went hoarse in the dream. I saw him pump himself and woke up as he rubbed his cock onto my folds.” 

There was a sigh of relief when he thought the story was over. “It is good that you repent–” 

“The worst part is yet to come.” You said, and you breathed. “When I awoke, I felt a wetness between my legs. My underwear was moist and the stickiness had rubbed onto my legs. I know I shouldn’t have done it, Remus, but I couldn’t resist the temptation. I wanted to know if it would feel as good as in the dream.” 

“Child.” 

“I reached down and repeated the actions the man had done to me. My fingers weren’t as strong or secure, but I found a spot that felt incredible, and I kept touching it, rubbing it, circling around it.” 

Remus’ boner was straining against his pants in an almost painful way. He wanted to let go, he wanted to set him free and chase his own pleasure at your words. At how he pictured you in your bed, sweaty and sighing as you touched yourself. You were so beautiful, he found innocence even in the way you sinned. 

“And then there was bliss, I thought I was dеad and had gone to heaven, but I came back, vision cloudy and disoriented. My bedsheets were sticky with my juices and I had to change them. I’ve been in a permanent state of shame ever since then.” 

“Let us pray for your forgiveness,” Remus said. And my own, he thought. Now not only your sheets had been stained, but so had his pants, just from hearing you. You would have relished on the knowledge if you’d had it. 

“Thank you, Father,” you said as you stood. 

“Pray tell me child, whoever is this man that has you in such an altered state of mind?” 

Got him! you thought as you turned your gaze to the confessionary. And almost in a whisper, you murmured. “Well, it’s you, Remus.” 

ACT IV:  Thou shall not commit adultery

Remus couldn’t stop thinking of you since that day. He’d get boners with the mere thought of you, with the idea of you going back to his confessionary and telling him all the lewd things you had done while thinking of him again.

He thought of you in the shower, and he thought of you in bed, and he thought of you while praying to try and take his mind away from you as well. He knew he was in deep trouble and he had no one he could talk to about his problem. 

He had avoided touching himself, but it was hard and it was painful to ignore the throbbing sometimes, and he had to give in. Gently brushing his hand on top of his trousers until either it subdued or he came, completely forgetting who he was and thinking only of your hot lips in his and your legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed you in the exact same way he’d had you in your dream. A dream that had now become as much his as it had been yours. 

The next Wednesday he was nervous. Bouncing his leg while he had breakfast and playing with his nails while he read the verse he’d have to give that day. His breath was stuck in his throat as he started to preach and he waited. And waited as he spoke and looked at the door and then back at the bible held between his hands and then back at the door. 

You didn’t go to church that day. 

Naturally, he was mortified. Thinking he had done something wrong, thinking he had scared you and thinking he’d pushed you away somehow. Thinking you were too scared to see him again after those lewd dreams, thinking –God forbid- you had chosen a different church to attend. 

So when the next Wednesday you showed up with a small skirt (the smallest you had ever gone to church with) and a simple preppy-looking sweater he couldn’t help but be both relieved and terrified, all at the same time. You had tinted your lips red, not enough for it to be lipstick, but enough for them to look raw and bitten, and while your hair was perfectly put together, and your makeup right in place, there was something about you that screamed danger. 

You sat right in the very first row. There were like 5 other people in the massive church that day. Someone sitting in the middle. A couple of old people in the back and a few others scattered around. No one young, and no one near the front either. 

Oh, what a terrible thing it was that you were about to do. 

Remus was quick to dismiss his deacons, asking them to go fetch something while he preached mass and they gave him a courteous nod while he started talking. As per usual, you listened attentively, paying close attention to the things he said, and despite yourself, often finding the things that you disagreed with. You realized he could barely take his eyes off you, and you slowly, spread your legs. Only a little, only enough to get his attention. You saw the way he licked his lips, and went back to talking. And you smiled. You pulled your ass back and opened yourself a little wider before crossing one leg over the other. You accommodated your skirt with your hand, slow and steady. Pulling your skirt up to show more skin before pulling it down and settling it in place, but only after he’d noticed, and seen as much of skin as possible, all the while, pretending to be doing it all innocently. Like you hadn’t worn that small skirt on purpose and like you hadn’t taken off your knickers and placed them in your bag in that public loo before walking inside the church. 

When the mass ended, you saw Remus disappear into the confessionary. Onto the confession side. You saw him look around and then get inside, nervous as if scared to be seen. Probably trying to run away from you. When you made sure that there was no one left, you walked inside the other side. He was hunched, elbows leaning on his knees and head hidden between his hands. You thought you had gone too far since he looked like he had been crying, but you quickly realised he had been praying instead. 

Sure, he’d have complicated thoughts, but your plan was meant to be fun for the two of you, and you wanted him to enjoy being corrupted as much as you enjoyed corrupting him. 

“Remus,” you said tentatively. “Are you okay?” 

He gasped and turned to the small division, he couldn’t see you, but you could see him perfectly. “It’s you.” 

Rather than replying you cocked your head to the side. “Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess,” you joked. He gave you a stern look from the other side, a reproaching sort of look as if he wanted to tell you how terrible it was for you to impersonate a Priest, but he didn’t speak. “Or should I speak of mine first?”

“Please don’t.”

“Then sing, little bird.” 

Remus huffed. “I’ve been thinking about a woman, non-stop.” 

“A church woman?” 

“I’m not sure if she really is a church woman anymore.” 

“A devil?” 

“No.” 

You smiled, “Then, what’s so wrong about thinking of her?” 

“I’m no ordinary man. It’s against my beliefs.” 

“To think of a woman is against your beliefs?” 

“To think of her in the way I’ve been thinking of her.” 

“Which is?” 

“As terrible as your dream, my darling.” 

You smirked at that, biting your lip so hard you might have drawn bIood if you hadn’t stopped to say something else. “So you’ve been thinking of kissing me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Of touching me?” 

“Yes,” he said, strained. 

“Of fucking me?” 

Silence.

“Have you thought of the sounds I would make, of the sighs and moans and groans?” 

He closed his eyes, a deep frown etched on his features. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I used your confession to fuel my imaginations, to satisfy my carnal desires to–” 

“That’s okay.” 

“It is not!” he responded, distressed. 

“Remus,” you said simply. “I wanted you to think of me,” you admitted. “I wanted you to think of me while you touched yourself the same way I thought of you while I did it. The same way I’ve been thinking of you while doing it, in fact.” 

His head snapped your way, he seemed mortified, but you could also see one of his hands being brought down, adjusting his pants. 

“Do you want me to tell you how I do it?” 

“No,” he lied. 

“Are you sure? I won’t ask again.” 

He looked to the side, red from shame. He bit his lip. “Tell me.” 

You smiled, “I lay in bed, and then these images come to my mind, I think of you, of your hands. They’re touching me, they’re everywhere. I don’t know where you ended and I start and I love every bit of it. It’s my hands that travel down my thighs but I think of them as yours. It is my fingers that slide in between my folds but I believe they’re yours.” 

“Fucking hell,” he said, his grip on the wooden latch, grip tightening until his knuckles turned white. You peered through the blinds and realised the tent in his pants. 

“Remus,” you said quietly. He turned to the wooden division, gaze strained, eyes filled with guilt, he was looking for you, but he couldn’t see past the squares and the small, shadow of you that got through.  “Touch yourself.” 

It was soft, the way you said it. Soft like a suggestion more than a command, but neither of you doubted it was the latter. And as if it had been a command from God himself, he listened and did what told. He patted himself over his black pants and hissed at the strain he’d been on. It was almost painful, how constricted and trapped his cock had been. 

“Soft,” you said then, watching, resisting your own temptation to dig your hand under your skirt. “Be kind to yourself, Remus, you deserve it.” 

He listened, and continued to rub himself, passing his hand back and forth and allowing it to help with the strain. “Te” –he stuttered– “tell me how you feel.” 

“The inner side of my legs is soft, incredibly so,” you said. “I get chills when I run my hands close to my core.”

 “It’s wet,” you said then. You had dug your hand under your skirt now. “Really wet.” 

He could hear your breaths getting sharper, he assumed you were also touching yourself on the other side and he could barely think properly, barely command his hand to do what it needed to do to help himself. 

“That looks painful,” you said as you saw him continue to rub himself over his trousers. “Take yourself out.” 

“What?” he asked, confused. 

“Touch yourself with your bare hand, Remus.” 

He seemed like he would protest, so you decided to give him some encouragement. You placed your finger between your folds and brushed over your clit, emitting a soft moan, “Please.” 

Just like before, Remus followed your command, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his boxers down enough so he could pull himself out. You smiled. “So beautiful, aren’t you?” you praised from the other side. He was long, thick and standing proud. He was hesitant at first, but he eventually placed his hand around himself. “Fuck,” he whispered. “I’d forgotten how good it feels.” 

Of course, he had been a teenager once, of course, he had touched himself while feeling terrible for doing so and having grown up in a Christian household. 

“Remus?” 

“Yeah?” he asked, as he pumped. Slow and steady, as if he didn’t want to go too fast and show you how easy it was for him to cum at the thought of you. 

“You’re making me insanely wet, I might have ruined your comfy little chair here.” 

“Are you teasing me?” 

“No, I’m being a good little lamb that tells no lies,” you said in response. “Ah… fuck.” 

“What was that?” 

“Just thinking of how incredible your hand would feel if it were doing what mine is?” 

“Which is?” 

“Shhh…” you said. He stopped moving. “You hear that?” you asked. It was a lewd wet sound. “It’s my finger, coming in and out of myself.” 

Remus moaned your name and bit his lips. He came in his hand before he had time to really visualize you. “Ugh,” he said as he looked at the mess he’d made all over his hands, some of it also on his pants. 

You took a handkerchief from your bag and passed it over your legs, collecting some of the sticky stuff between your folds and then you passed it through the small, opened section. Crossing your hand, the one with still glistening fingers over. 

You knew he’d noticed the second his eyes opened wide. “So you clean yourself, I used it for myself too.” He bit his lip and carefully took it from your hands, and cleaned your fingers with it as if he tried to wash his sin by cleaning your equally sinful fingers. But he didn’t bring his cum covered hand even close to it. Let alone his cock. “What? You think it’s gross?” 

“I don’t want to ruin it,” he said as he brought it close to his nose and sniffed, stifling a moan with the fabric. Now you were the speechless one. “Do you have a napkin?” 

You somehow managed to pull a napkin from your bag and handed it over to him through the same place. He used that to clean himself and placed it neatly folded in one of his pockets. 

“Can I keep this?” he asked as he held the handkerchief between two fingers. 

“Yes,” you almost stuttered. You had never seen a man do something as ridiculous –and hot– as what he’d done. 

“Will you disappear again, angel?” 

“Angel?” you asked with a smirk, “I would think you’d see me as something else, a devil, perhaps.” 

“Impossible, a devil wouldn’t be able to show me heaven like you did today.” 

Speecheless, again. This man really could bring you to your knees. “Do you even want to see me again?” 

“More than anything on this earth.” 

“Fine then, I’ll come to confess tomorrow, how does that sound?” 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

ACT V: Thou shall honour your Mother and Father

After the heat of the moment, Remus felt the sudden urge to repent, to throw away the handkerchief and to pray in bed until his knees were raw from how much he’d been kneeling. And he tried, but even as he prayed he knew how pointless it was. The act of repenting, of praying and being forgiven for your sins, only worked if you actually felt regret over what you’d done. 

But Remus was far from feeling remorseful. He had repented a great many things throughout his life. Not trusting his innocent best friend and blaming him for things that had happened, not doing more for the world when he had the chance and smaller, pesky things that most people wouldn’t bat an eyelash about but that he constantly put himself down for. 

But having done what he did on the confessionary, hearing your small moans and the lewd sounds that you’d made for him, telling him what to do and how to do it, that he didn’t regret. On the other hand, he wanted to do it again. You had taken him to heaven and he was eager to see it again. And he did it, repeated the same actions, it was cold and dark and there was no one even close to his room when he pulled that handkerchief out and placed it on his face. Smelling the scent of you while he pulled himself out of his pants and jerked himself for the second time that day. He came with the thought of you at the confessionary and your name muffled by the handkerchief that he refused to move from his mouth. By the end, he was sore and delicate and he felt like he had pushed himself too hard, but he found the most peaceful sleep afterwards. 

When he woke up again, he was still covered in his own cum and he had to wash the sheets of his bed in his sink before anyone noticed what he had done. The shame he felt diluting as the sun rose, and he imagined you coming back to the church. He pictured you in that small skirt you’d worn yesterday, or in the simple dress you’d taken the first time that you went to hear his mass. But he was not expecting to see you walk in the clothes you’d worn. 

A white dress, long enough to reach mid-thigh, and made of soft sheer fabric layered one on top of another. He might have been imagining things but he would have sworn he could see your nipples perk through the thin fabric when you turned to him, a small, innocent smile on your face as you threw him a look and walked inside the confessionary. An angel, you really were an angel. 

“Pretty thing, you’ve come back,” he said as he too walked in, this time taking the side that belonged to him, he loved that he could see you. 

“I promised, Remus.”

“I know, angel. But I’m always scared I’ve dreamed you up, that you’re not real and that I was just imagining you all along.” 

You smirked and pushed your hand through the small hole connecting the two of you, “I’m very real, Remus, you can touch me.” 

He did, he placed his hand on top of yours and you heard a sigh of relief when his thumbs pressed onto your hand. He was careful and kind, passing his fingers over your knuckles and under your palm in a soft, gentle manner that was sending shivers down your spine. This poor man was breaking down for you, and yet he was the gentlest of them all.

“You really are,” he breathed. He didn’t know if he should be happy that you were real, or horrified by the things he’d done for you, of the things he’d do. His faith? He might have been willing to throw it all away for another chance to see you, for another chance to feel your hands, for your lips, your kisses. How could he believe in a God that had given him nothing, when you were here, willing to give him everything? 

“Yesterday I saw it all and you barely got to hear me, I thought of showing you my sins rather than describing them to you today, is that okay, Father?” That last bit was a taunt, in the same way you’d been taunting him since the very beginning.

“Yes,” there was no hesitance, if anything, you would have only described the waver in his voice as excitement. 

You couldn’t hold back the smirk that pulled from your lips, Remus’ breath hitched as you accommodated yourself in the chair. Leaning back and spreading your legs for him, letting the soft fabric of your dress fall in between your tights and slowly show the outline of your legs. 

“When was the last time you saw a woman naked?” 

“In real life? Never.” 

Your head snapped to him, although all you could see was the outline of a shadow through the dark-edged wood, “Never?!? Pictures?” 

“When I was around 15.” He admitted. “My best friend Peter once took a few magazines to school after the break. He said his father had gotten them for him on his 14th birthday and that he told them to take them back before his mother noticed. I barely remember them.” 

“Did you jack off to them?” 

“I stole a page,” he admitted with a bitter laugh. “It was this girl with a forest-green, transparent robe. I took her home with me, my father found it and he was enraged. He called me a monster and drove me straight into church.”

“The priest there took a look at the image, and made me kneel down on the rocky floor and pray for forgiveness. I don’t know if he forgot, or if he did it on purpose, but he said not to stand until he came back and he didn’t come back until 7 hours later.” 

“My god,” you said. Remus didn’t even think of reprimanding you for taking his name in vain. “That must have been awful. Your parents were terrible.” 

Remus shrugged, “It’s what I was used to,” he added when he remembered you couldn’t actually see him, although you could feel his hands tense at the thought. 

“That means, since then… you’ve never even–?” 

“No,” he admitted softly. “I guess it’s easier not to do something when you don’t know how it feels. Although my best friend was always eager to tell me how good it was.” 

“Worry not, you won’t have to use your imagination anymore,” you said as you pulled your hand back into your area and moved it to the thin strap of the dress, slowly sliding it down, he could barely see the valley of your breast, and yet he felt himself start to tense, his cheeks heat and bIood rushing south. 

“You don’t have to–” 

“But I want to,” you said, turning your gaze from your bare shoulder and towards him, he could see the mirth shining in your eyes, he could see the mischievousness and the licentiousness reflected on your pupils. You pulled the other strap down and then moved both of your hands to the fabric at the top of your breasts, pulling it down and letting them in full view. 

Remus breathed sharply when he finally saw them. Of course, he knew what they looked like, the girls in Peter’s magazine had shown him. James had described them, but that was nothing compared to seeing them in real life, it was nothing compared to seeing yours in real life. 

You smiled at the little to no sound he was making from the other side. You leaned your back on the stunningly carved wooden wall of the confessionary and squared your shoulders for him. “They look like this for you,” you said as you slid your hand over one of your nipples. “They turned hard the minute I spotted you at the door.” 

Silence, nothing more than a ragged breath. 

“Cat got your tongue?” You teased. 

“I had never seen a prettier thing in my life,” he said. “Except for your angelic face, that is.” 

You laughed in return, a sweet and soft laugh that he would have done anything to hear again. “You’re good at this for someone who’s never done it.” 

“Good at what?” 

“At making a woman blush.” You said. “But I’m just as good,” you added as you pulled one of your legs up on the small seat, your dress fell over and bunched up covering your core, but Remus barely even cared, he was immersed in the plushness of your thigh, imagining how it would feel wrapped around his waist. 

You heard him swallow thickly. 

“In my dream,”  you started, “In my dream, we weren’t here, we were hiding somewhere in the church.” Your breath had slowed down, one of your hands was playing with your thigh, the other one on your breast. You didn’t usually pay much attention to them, but it was that you knew his eyes were on you, that touching them, knowing how it must have made him feel, was turning you on even more than before. “You were kissing me –ah– you were touching me.” 

Remus was, by now, having to adjust his extremely uncomfortable pants.

“How?” he asked, almost in a whisper. “Show me how I was touching you.” 

You couldn’t even hold back the smile from your face. “You traced your fingers over my thigh,” you placed your hand on your bare knee, and then started to move it downwards, towards yourself. “You were kissing me here,” you added as you leaned your neck to the side for him to see better. And then… you touched me here.” Your hand was already in your core. You moved the ruffles of the dress to the side, allowing him to see, to see all of you. You heard a small gasp, when he noticed you had worn no knickers. 

“You slid your hands on my slit,” you said and followed your own instructions, “Soft and gentle, like you are when you’re preaching. In the same way that you moved your delicate slender fingers over the bible,” you breathed, a little more ragged now. “You slid one of your fingers in between my folds, and looked for my clit. You found it almost instantly, and you rolled your finger over it gently, you loved my whimpers.” 

“I do,” he agreed. “I imagined them while touching myself last night. Those wet little sounds you make when you–” 

“Ah,” you breathed as you dug your fingers inside yourself, your walls tightening around it involuntarily. “Like this?” you asked and smiled, biting your lip before you did it again. You brought the hand on your breast downwards and leaned back a little so you could spread your legs even further. Remus’ mouth watered, he wondered how wrong would it be to taste you?

To bury his head in your legs and lick all of the wetness that coated your fingers, to be so close that the smell of you got everywhere, that he wouldn’t need the handkerchief to feel you close. You continued to touch yourself. Breathing heavily, sighting and moaning softly, he wondered what that would feel if it were directly whispered into his ear. 

You were so lost in yourself for those first few minutes, so wrapped in the feeling that you hadn’t realized the lack of beautiful moans from his side. 

“Remus–” you said breathily, “Why aren’t you touching yourself?” 

“Yesterday at night I– I did it again… a couple of times. I’m, it’s a little painful,” he admitted shamefully, but your eyes shone with lust so intense at his words that he continued talking. “It was your little handkerchief’s fault. I was going to wash it, but I got its scent and it made me feral.”

“Aha?” you asked, as you continued to touch yourself.

“I couldn’t stop thinking of you. Shut my door and laid on my bed with it over my nose.” 

You hummed contentedly, half a moan, half a hum. 

“I was so hard it was ridiculous. I had barely even smelled you. I hadn’t even gone through the images of that wonderful dream of yours.” 

You sighted in bliss, breath ragged as you slid your finger out of yourself and turned to him with a smile. 

“I have an idea,” you said and then let out a breathy laugh.

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[partycatty]

johnny cage > bust your kneecaps

kenshi's sibling isn't exactly known for being the kindest, especially when things don't go their way.

warnings: violence, you're kinda yandere type... or maybe tsundere i don't know i give up. johnny's an ass and i wanna beat him up.

notes: are you seriously telling me NOBODY has written a fic for this man using "bust your kneecaps" by pomplamoose?! LIKE.

[ masterlist ]

johnny, don't leave me, you said you'd love me forever - honey, believe me, i'll have your heart on a platter

• you stepped your way into the stupidly lavish mansion, the address imprinted into your brain and throwing knife at your hip. the belt accentuated the way your hips swayed, capturing the attention of the mansion's owner.

• "where's my wife?" he asks, defensive as he puts the glass of alcohol down.

• "your wife is fine," you turn toward your brother's voice as he speaks, a scowl painting both of your features.

• "you will be too, if you cooperate," your tone is unwelcoming, threatening. "you're johnny cage, aren't you?"

• "what's it to you?" johnny's anger grows by the second, frustrated and confused about the sudden yakuza-looking blade wielders in his home.

• your hand twitches as it rests on the handle of the blade. kenshi puts an arm out, pressing you back. his glare is a silent scolding and you groan, instead opting to cross your arms than threaten the actor at gunpoint.

• "come on," johnny instigates, a beckoning hand thrown out your way. "you're too pretty to be this rude to me."

• "i'm not here for you," you spit back, and kenshi points his sword out to the blade resting just above the fireplace. "we come for sento."

• we all know the drill. before you could fight for what rightfully belonged to your clan, johnny had you and your brother tied to a chair, groaning as consciousness returns to you only to explain your intentions through a groggy tone.

• it seemed like something from a lucid dream, two ninjas and a fire god as you're tied to a chair in a celebrity mansion. it was all a blur, explained quickly before you were whisked off to an academy to fight in a tournament you had only just learned about.

• it was all ridiculous but johnny had dragged sento along with him, keeping it in his room and away from the two of you - he never knew if you'd strike at night and run off into the sunset at any given moment.

• the training itself was quite useful as you learned new styles of fighting, weapon or otherwise. you felt yourself growing bulk and inspiration for combat and attempted to log as much information into your memory, studying after lessons or practicing moves when the campus was cleared of people with the moon high.

• it started innocently enough, johnny would at first spectate you and then eventually join in for (unwelcome) advice. you tried to brush him off, you really did, but he just kept coming back like the prettiest little parasite and that irritated you beyond belief.

• before you could protest or pick up his mood shift, he was being sweet on you - which is to say, pet names, compliments, anything you figured an actor would use to get in a girl's pants. he must do this to all women, you figure, but as time passes you find yourself leaning into his words and cracking a small smile that you cover with your hand.

• you had attempted to confide in kenshi, but in his typical attitude, he just teased you for having a crush on the actor. it was a claim you vehemently denied, no matter how many times his laugh rung in your ears or feather touches made your skin burn.

• it bothered you, truly. you hated him and his stupid sexy smile, his dumb idiot muscles as they flex and ripple during training — lord help you.

• when you started to give in, it was so painfully slow anyone could've missed it. johnny, shockingly, was a good judge of character and wore his opinions on his sleeve. he picked up on it, but wouldn't say anything; he would keeping poking and prodding the bear until you admitted your shameful attraction.

• you gave in after a particularly intimate training session. not having much experience compared to the star, he noticed your tense heat radiating from your back when he wrapped his arms around you, perfecting your stance as you trained against a dummy. unable to contain the trembles of your limbs, you spun around to face him, still caged in his grasp.

• "why do you do the things you do?" you ask, brows naturally furrowed in thought.

• johnny looks at you as if you were a fool. "because i like you."

• the answer left you dumbfounded, the answer was right in front of you but you dared not entertain the thought. your eyes darted between his, searching for any hint of bad intentions, but no. his eyes were sweet and soft, gentle and understanding. it ached you.

• the walls you built up crumbled to nothing the longer you two spent time together, johnny giving you almost little room to fully adjust to a romantic relationship. beside each other it was almost comical how much you resembled a black cat golden retriever duo, a comparison the other boys were sure to make often. even liu kang was surprised by this, commenting once that this "had not happened before." whatever he meant was lost to you.

• at first, it was sweet. he cared, he truly did. johnny would go more than an extra mile for you, understanding where to fully slam the brakes or how to gently encourage you to be intimate. the entire time you were absolutely floored, willing to explore the new world of love. it didn't take long for johnny to call it that, and you followed shortly after. he loved you, only you forever, as he'd say.

• the near-armageddon was heavy on the both of you, but everyone returned in one piece and things seemed to be taking a turn toward the domestic life. this is where everything seemingly took a turn for the worse.

• johnny had insisted you moved in with him as soon as possible, citing both love and your financial connections to the yakuza to support his living conditions even after struggling with money. he'd beg with those sweet puppy eyes, and who were you to turn down the first man that's ever loved you?

• you gave him your all, trying so hard to prove your affections and figure out how to appreciate someone that isn't yourself. johnny ate it up every time, his praise making you dizzy and his little pout every time your voice wavered in hesitation.

• at the academy and sun do, it was easy to forget that he was a supposed A-List celebrity. nobody knew him, flocked for photos and attention, the camera flashing wasn't even a worry considering their lack of technology. he was a normal man with perhaps a slightly inflated ego, but a charming pretty boy nonetheless.

• when you began living in malibu, it started to become a reality for you that you were now in the trenches of fame. while you yourself weren't famous, you did technically appear from nowhere arm in arm with the actor. it didn't take long for paparazzi to camp on your lawns, parking garages, or even as you're out getting your morning coffee.

• as a former yakuza member, your entire life was in the shadows or relatively secretive. now, everyone knew everything about you and the thought made you nauseous. johnny would remind you time and time again that this is what you set yourself up for. you two had never even approached the topic beforehand.

• then came the women. johnny was a conventionally attractive man in malibu, his glittering smile and perfect appearance had women constantly screaming at him for a glance, one that he happily provided with a slight wink. going online and seeing the edits and thirsting messages made your stomach flip. he was yours, but he felt like the world's.

• you tried sitting johnny down, unable to properly articulate your problems having never discussed serious topics with a partner before. it was a foreign topic to you, dancing around your words in one place and being too blunt in the other. johnny couldn't help but look at you with a nearly condescending stare, brow raising in such a way that made you feel... small.

• "you're dating a celebrity," he stated, as if you needed a thousandth reminder. "i'm johnny cage. i may have just been another trainee when we met, but i'm one of the most prominent men in the industry. this is what you signed up for. sorry, but i can't always be yours. i love my fans, too."

• "i didn't know what i signed up for," you clarify, brows furrowing in confusion over his tone. "i thought you'd only love me." he did say it pretty early on.

• "i do," he put his hands up defensively. "i just have more than you to worry about now, sugar. can we get on with our days, now? i have a meeting with a production team in an hour."

• perhaps you didn't know what you really agreed to. fame, women, money, cars, johnny was... wow, a pompous piece of shit in the spotlight no matter how much he claimed to have changed after the events. it was like the most sickening, arrogant light switch. you swore you loved a different man.

• after you had turned away his lifestyle for the tenth time, it was a few months after moving in that he really sat you down. he sat backwards in a chair, as if it was a casual conversation. another part of his routine.

• "you're not cut out for this," he'd open with, and you're not even sure what "this" was really referring to. "i don't want to keep dragging you through a lifestyle you can't keep up with." like you were a lesser being. your mouth goes dry.

• "you said you'd love me forever." your frown is piercing.

• "feelings... change, i guess. we met in a totally different place, things are back to normal and i just can't picture us continuing like we are now. i've got so much work to do and so little time, and you want my attention. i can't prioritize one out without losing the other."

• "so you're choosing directing over me? fame?"

• "it's not like that —" he sighs, pity in his voice. "you don't belong here."

• you stand up now. "you told me we were a forever package deal. you wanted to show me the world. you wanted this, took every first i could give. what? you're done using me for what i'm worth now?"

• johnny winces. "kind of? you're... you haven't been offering up much else than complaints." your jaw truly drops now, the anger you pushed away bubbling back up to the surface.

• "you think you can just clock out?" your voice grows in volume, increasingly nasty as you picture all the ways you could make him apologize. "you don't just get to escape that easily. do you know who i am?"

• johnny states your full name with a pitiful expression. as if it means nothing. he could have tricked you into thinking that was the case if you had kept falling for his love bombing. not anymore.

• "can you relax?" his tone is laced with irritation. "you're working yourself up, just make it easier for the both of us. look, i'll even buy you a plane ticket—" he reaches for his wallet but you catch his wrist, seeing red. for the first time in a long time, he looks at you like you're a strong person, a yakuza member.

• "easy," he wants you, tone now deadly serious. "i've got cameras everywhere. if i show police you put your hands on me like that, knowing your background, it'll be bad news for you."

• a smirk pulls at your lip, twitching in anger. you lean in close, real close. "if they even get to see the footage."

• it was a pathetic assumption that johnny would be able to escape you now, you were fully intertwined with him in such a way that angered you, but made you love him more deep down. your first love isn't supposed to just pull out from your grasp, not easily anyway.

• a wrestling match ensues. he's strong and knows how to fight, you saw it yourself. you were smarter, though. you managed to grab one of his small statues and position him just right to knock him out with a light hit. he goes limp in your arms, sending you to your knees from the weight of his body. not quite satisfied that he was at your mercy, you drag him to your shared bed.

• thanks to your intimate endeavors, rope was tucked neatly in the closet. you tied his wrists to the bedposts and his ankles to the edge of the bed. while you were emotionally detached, you were still utterly enamored with his entire existence. you leaned in close, admiring the crinkle in his nose or his delicate eyelashes as they hopelessly flutter. his plush lips part to breathe shallowly, and you barely notice your hand coming up to stroke at his cheekbone. he was a beautiful specimen, a figure that's meant to be immortalized in art.

• as mad as you were, he was just too pretty to part from. you peppered kisses from his temple to his shoulder, hand feeling the fabric of his dress shirt as you lay your head on his chest. you basically cuddled him as you leaned onto the bed, half sitting in your chair still. you had to be prepared in case he suddenly awoke and went for a bite or headbutt.

• he'll wake up eventually, and when he does, you'll be right there with a blade in hand and a wicked smile pulling at your lips.