#especially since I don’t plan to make content for all of it

[voidpvllman]

freaks • bob reynolds

summary: the early days of a new team being assembled: the settling, the fighting, the dysfunctional dynamics that lead into a family, and maybe even something more. bob is desperate and pining, too awkward to say anything, or getting interrupted every time he tries or finally talks himself into it. you are angry at the world, now once again fighting for people that turned on you after you lost control. stuck living with people you barely tolerate, eventually like, and could maybe even love. training and fighting, being pushed to get your powers back, after swearing to never use them again; all while fighting off sneaking feelings that feel a lot like love.

content: angst, jealousy, void (almost) and sentry appearances! pining, anger issues, mention of self harm, self hatred, bpd, traumatic pasts, fluff, kinda family dynamic, kissing, slow burn, sexual themes but not explicit, desperation, a little makeout

[ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ʰᵃˢ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳˢ ˢᶦᵐᶦˡᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵃⁿᵍ ᶜʰᶦ: ˢᵏᶦˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵐᵘˡᵗᶦᵖˡᵉ ᵐᵃʳᵗᶦᵃˡ ᵃʳᵗˢ, ˢʷᵒʳᵈ, ᵇᵒʷˢᵗᵃᶠᶠ, ᵉᶜᵗ; ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃⁿᵈ, ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵃᶦʳ ᵐᵃⁿᶦᵖᵘˡᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ

yelena flipped you over on the mat; leg wrapped over your hip, laughing as she pinned your face to the ground. you groaned, slapping the mat in defeat, “this is pointless! i’m not getting any better.” you hated how hard you were breathing; you hated how easily you had been beaten again. “don’t be so hard on yourself… most people can’t beat me. especially when you’re out of practice.” you glared at her at her subtle brag, “i’m just saying, you have only been training again for two weeks.” “and i don’t think i’m getting any better, yelena! i just- i don’t.. succeed at anything anymore. i can’t do anything…” yelena sighed, watching you sadly, “i know we haven’t known each other long… but from what i have seen, no one else here can handle a sword? and that’s pretty damn cool. you are our best brains, you keep us all on schedule and map out our missions and make the plans-“ “i don’t know what you saw on my file, yelena, but… i don’t even think i could lift a sword anymore. i haven’t… i’m retired.” you exhaled, laying flat out on the mat, “i got someone hurt, i lost control… ever since, it’s like everything is just… gone.” yelena watched you sadly, “that was ten years ago! you were a child...” you just shook your head, “i think i’m done for the day. i- i don’t think i’m ready. i may not ever be.” you crossed the gym floor, feeling much angrier and more frustrated than you had before you started. you ignored the grunts and swears coming from the mat, now that two competent people were fighting. you glanced over your shoulder as bucky sent walker flipping to the ground. john groaned, holding his ribs as he sat up, “damn,” “sorry.” bucky shrugged, “you’re lighter than you look.”

you turned your attention to the punching bag in front of you, taking all of your anger and frustration out in a punch. it felt good to hit something that didn’t fight back or send you straight onto your back. you felt a low growl come from your throat and suddenly all the frustration and anger became the bag’s issue. you relentlessly punched out, fists stinging as you made contact over and over. you ended up screaming at it, beating at it until you saw blood on the bag. you looked down at your knuckles; skin peeled back, blood dripping between your fingers. “damn it.” you should have wrapped your knuckles, you should have warmed up more. there was a cramp in your side, tears blurring your vision- from the pain in your knuckles or frustration, you weren’t sure but you just felt embarrassed now. the others were looking at you from across the room, concerned, worried, maybe judging slightly.

you felt anger surge in you again as you turned away, storming back to your bag. your knuckles throbbed, stinging as the open air tickled against the open skin. you swore quietly, hating how useless you felt, hating how pathetic you looked against the rest of the team, hating yourself for how you had let yourself get this way. “hey,” you jumped, pulled from your thoughts by the shy voice, “are you okay?” you held your breath, pushing away the pain and anger as glanced to bob over your shoulder, “fine,” you always made sure you kept your tone from reflecting your emotions, “i’m okay. just frustrated… and angry and…” you zipped your gym back up a little too roughly, cursing as the zipper tab snapped off. “damn it!” bob tilted his head slightly, eyeing you sadly, “are- are you sure you’re okay?” you sighed, finally looking up to to meet his gaze, “i’m just not having the best day, alright?” your tone sounded impatient, but there was still that hint of softness. “oh…” bob deflated just slightly at your change in tone, “sorry…” you rubbed your face, now angry at yourself for being cold to the one person here that didn’t push you in training, didn’t demand you try harder, didn’t wait for you to be better again. “i’m sorry. i- i don’t mean to be a bitch, i-“ bob looked up at you, eyes widening slightly; he wasn’t used to the others apologizing for raising their voices or snapping when he got in their way. “you aren’t-!” he had said it a little too quickly, “you… i don’t think you’re a-…” bob ducked his head slightly, shyly, as if he didn’t want to say the word. you smiled just slightly to yourself; he was charming, in his shy, awkward ways. “well, thank you. it seems you’re the only one that thinks that…” you hauled your bag over your shoulder. bob was muttering something to himself, before his voice finally came out loud enough to hear, shaking slightly, “hey, would you ever want to go—“

“nice job on the bag, time bomb!”

you tensed at the nickname, snapping your head to look at walker; he meant it playfully, but god, the anger that spiked through you made your hands shake. bucky looked at you darkly, sending a warning glare over to john, shaking his head just barely. “thanks walker, i was picturing your face!” bob snorted, face turning red as he tried covering it with a cough. you glanced at him just barely, eyes twinkling with something playful and kind. bob somehow reddened even more, hand coming to rest on his neck to scratch an imaginary itch. “i’m going on a grocery run. have a list ready when i’m out of the shower.” there were nods of acknowledgment around the room, though bob, thankfully unnoticed, was now struggling at the mention of you in the shower.

you dried your hair just enough that it wouldn’t soak through your shirt once you put it on. you stared at yourself in the mirror, towel still tucked securely around you. how did you get here? with these people, once again fighting everyone’s wars, once again fighting for people that had nearly called for your incarceration after saving them the last time. you grabbed the black t-shirt tossed beside you and pulled it over your fresh sports bra. it was hot out, but you hated shorts, so you decided on your favorite pair of jeans. they had holes in them, the denim was worn thin, but you couldn’t bare to throw them away. you were just going to the grocery store, and could have just thrown sweatpants on, but you felt that you needed the comfort of something familiar and sentimental- for emotional support- today. you tossed your towel in your laundry basket and grabbed your phone and keys. your boots were nearly as worn through as your jeans, and you swore within a month the soles would have holes in them. bob was sitting on the couch, nose buried in a book as you crossed through the living room area. you spared him a glance, small smile creeping on your lips. you heard what the others said about him, how he was unstable and dangerous. but you just saw you. broken, misunderstood, completely forgotten and abandoned by the world.

bob looked up, eyes widening as he caught you staring. “hi-“ his voice failed him, coming out as a squeak, then a cough to cover it up. “hey,” you held back your amusement at his shyness he still had towards you, even after living in the same house. bob kept his eyes on you, soft, expectant. waiting for you to say something else, because god knew he wouldn’t. “i’m just.. going to get groceries for everyone…” bob closed his book, stumbling to his feet before his mind could stop him, “do you need help? it’s..late.. and…the city can be weird at night.” you couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating, or see how much his cheeks had reddened, or feel the fact that he was about to throw up or pass out. “oh, no, i-“ you were planning to sulk all night, brooding with a murderous expression on your face— scaring off anyone who would approach you in public with your rbf alone. it could be nice to have someone for once, a distraction from your own friend, a break from hating the world, something like a friend… “sure. if you want to.”

bob’s knees almost buckled but he forced himself to play it cool. he wasn’t about to throw up. he wasn’t going to throw up on her boots… he wasn’t going about to pass out. he would not pass out every time she looked at him and collapse, tripping her in the street… “okay-“ his voice squeaked again and he felt his cheeks heat up. you just smiled at him softly, not laughing at his blushing, not making a joke about his damn voice crack.

bob didn’t stand a chance.

bob pulled on his shoes at a walk, nearly crashing into the table as he scrambled to pull on his sweatshirt and walk. you held back a laugh, propping the elevator door open with your hip as he caught up with you. “hi,” he was smiling again with those shy, anxious eyes widened just slightly, as they met your gaze. “ready to go?” he nodded, far too eagerly, trailing behind you as you stepped in the elevator and the doors closed. bob felt like the walls were closing in, the elevator heating up to a dangerous level. you glanced over to him again, your usual glare not present, “you okay, bob?” your voice was so soft and full of concern- towards him- bob almost melted. he swallowed quickly, forcing himself to nod once, “yes! yes. yes, i’m… i’m fine. i just..run hot.” the blush on his cheeks would be a nice cover for that lie. he did run hot, but he didn’t always feel like he was about pass out, throw up, and have his heart burst through his chest all at once.

bob’s eyes widened slightly as you clicked your car keys and a 1980’s mustang beeped in response. “you- you drive that?” he hadn’t meant to sound so surprised, he was just in awe of every aspect of you. “were you expecting something boring?” you met him with a playful smirk. “n–no! never! never from you.” he reddened even further, and almost matched the shade of your car. you kept a sparkling eye fixed on him until you climbed into the driver’s seat. bob climbed in beside you, slowly, head like a swivel as he took in the interior. you watched him and tried to fight the smile creeping up your lips. “do the others know this is what you drive?” you smirked devilishly, “nope. because i don’t want their food wrappers and crumbs in it.” bob’s eyes widened slightly, frantically patting his pockets incase he he had forgotten he had snacks with him. “bob, chill.” you laughed lightly, eyeing him in amusement. bob reddened again, sitting up stick-straight, “sorry, i- sorry-“ you laughed again, “relax...” you put your hand on bob’s shoulder and the heat on his cheeks now spread throughout all of him, rapidly. his eyes widened, snapping up to your soft smile and sparkling eyes. “it’s just us. you don’t have to be tense and…” you gestured to his fidgeting. bob breathed in deeply, “right. sorry.” being just us, as you had said, was actually even more nerve wracking and terrifying and dizzying. and relaxing around you was actually impossible because he was the only other side of conversation and felt like he couldn’t talk to you without sounding stupid or squeaking like a prepubescent child.

you passed your phone to bob as you backed out of the parking spot. he eyed you with wide eyes, feeling like he had been handed something sacred and very forbidden. “pick something,” he eyed you, glancing at the aux cord dangling between your fingers. the radio had been upgraded to connect to an aux, while everything else was authentic and classic. you caught him admiring and smirked, “i like older things, but i still need my music.” “i don’t- um- know…” bob scrolled through your spotify, feeling lost. “just pick something, robert! i’ll listen to anything.” “okay, uh-“ bob picked a random album, looking pale as he set the phone down cautiously. the first few notes started and you hummed, eyeing him quickly, “what-“ she say up straighter, “what did i do- did i not pick a good-“ you held your hand up, shaking your head, “it was a good choice. interesting…” bob felt like he was being tested and was terrified of failing it, “interesting good..?” “interesting, interesting. you didn’t pick anything modern, but you also didn’t just pick the first thing on my spotify. so you saw my music taste and picked accordingly. you didn’t choose journey, which is a classic choice, if not slightly basic. ac/dc was a good pick.” bob nodded, exhaled, breath shaking just slightly. you made his head spin. he loved it… “i don’t think i have the best music taste. i usually just..listen to whatever is on the radio. my dad would listen to older rock, but…” your eyes snapped to him and he nearly flinched, “does this remind you of him?” the way you looked at him, bob would never get used to. so intensely, so softly, so full of concern, like you really cared. like you saw him and not his mistakes. it was a softness, but it wasn’t pity; you looked at him like he wasn’t something fragile that needed to be tiptoed around. “i—“ god he had been lost in those eyes and his inner monologue about you. you had asked about his dad- had your music reminded him of his dad? no.. god, no. nothing about you could ever remind him of that monster… you were good and soft and light…the complete opposite of everything he grew up with and ever knew… “no, it’s- nice- i like it.” you eyed him again, looking for any tell in his eyes, “okay… good.” you smiled to yourself, silently making a note of how he looked at you. and at how much different you felt away from everyone else… with just him.

bob pushed the cart, trailing beside you, very aware of your hand resting on the handle of the cart, inches from his own. he had to remind himself to breathe, focusing so much on not moving his hand or twitching a finger that he didn’t hear you say his name. “sorry- i- what?” he looked to you with an embarrassed expression, cheeks flushing again. god, you probably thought he ran so hot that he was always inches away from overheating. “snack requests? niche brands you prefer?” “i-“ he couldn’t just request his very child like taste in food around you, even if he did really want the usual, comforting, favorites. “i don’t really…do snacks. i like…fruit and stuff…” you narrowed your eyes at him slightly, “boring. you sound like bucky and john.” he watched you grab a box of cereal— from the kids section, not the grown up protein cereal. you eyed it, picked up another one, compared them, grabbed a third box. “which one?” coco pebbles, captain crunch and apple jacks. “i-“ it was his type of comfort food; you had no idea what you were doing to him. you eyed them all again before dropping them all in the cart, “all of the above it is.”

damn it, you were perfect.

after entirely too long in the junk food isles, and a fit of inappropriately loud laughter over an unfortunately named generic brand of candy, the cart was looking like a preschool teachers’. “two twenty four packs of mac and cheese?” bob looked at you with a playful smirk. “yelena…” you eyed him playfully, “plus, it’s valentina’s bill.” bob laughed at this and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. he had fake laughed in too many scenarios; stiff and uncomfortable.

“in that case, we should get one more…”

you smirked, “i thought about it but i can’t reach it.”

bob cleared his throat, waved his hand dramatically and bowed. he reached over your head and grabbed the last box of yelena’s macaroni and cheese. you forgot he was six foot. he carried himself so small, like he was always scared to take up space. “why thank you, sir.” you smiled genuinely, feeling your face heat up- you had lost track of how many times you had laughed or sincerely smiled this evening… “hey, i think i’ll bring you on all my grocery runs from now on.” bob’s heart skipped at this, hiding his red face behind the box of macaroni and cheese, “please do,” it came out before he could stop it. bob stumbled over his words to try and save it, “i mean- you shouldn’t have to shop for a superhuman team alone. …a-lot of bags to carry..” you met his eyes and there was something in your expression- something behind the slightly narrowed eyes, the quirked up eyebrow, the barely there smirk. finally you spoke and bob could breathe again, “sounds good… it’s a date.”

bob could not breathe again.

most nights you spent alone, in your room reading, while most of the others were out on missions or training exercises. you and bob would occasionally pass each other on the way to or from the kitchen, nodding in acknowledgment with a small smile. you both were happy being alone, content in the silence, lost in a book or movie. lately, however, nights the others were gone, you had wandered out into the living room. bob was already there, half interested in his book. his eyes found yours immediately, a small, hopeful smile on his lips, a far too eager glint in his eyes. you sat beside him silently, shocking yourself that you had someone you didn’t mind keeping you company. bob shifted slightly, giving you more room as he turned back to his book in silence. this had become routine when the others weren’t around and the tower was quiet and void of stupid arguments or mission talk. each night started in silence, as if neither of you wanted to disturb the other, as if there was an invisible thing that kept you from getting too close or starting casual conversation. one night as you grabbed your book to head to the living room, you were stopped by bob, standing right outside your door. “hi-“ you exhaled, failing to hide the surprise in your voice. bob just smiled softly, “i was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie…” oh? “okay?” you fought away the smile that wanted to spread across your lips and ignored the warmth spreading in your chest. “i um-“ bob looked at you nervously, not quite sure if you were agreeing to it or waiting for him to actually ask you. “so-“ he shifted slightly, already feeling stupid, “do you..want to?” this time you did smile widely, “sure,” you stepped aside and held your door open, to which bob’s eyes widened and he looked like he may faint. “oh- um-“ “you can come in, robert. i don’t bite.” bob looked truly ill, buy he stepped inside your room with his best attempt at a stable smile.

“unless you want me to.” you added with a playful smirk, watching as bob took in your room and then suddenly tensed. “i- oh- well-“ bob cleared his throat, trying to pull himself together and recover from your joke. bless your heart, you always tried lightening the awkward tension with playful jokes or sugestive comments. you couldn’t do things like that around bob; he physically couldn’t handle it and would now spend the next twenty minutes trying to calm himself down and remind himself that it was just a joke, no matter how much he really would have liked it if you- no. bob shook his head which earned a sideways look from you. “fine,” bob mumbled it, placing his pile of movie selections on the bed, hands resting casually against his waist. he had gotten himself all worked up and now was in an even worse situation. you had to force yourself to look at the bed, force yourself to ignore his twitching and obvious situation. you really should stop teasing him, after all it had started innocently and playfully… but now… no. no time for that. you picked the closest movie, not really looking through them, but recognizing the title. “my tv is better than the one in there. for some reason, smartly- valentina assumed we wouldn’t be using the living room tv for group hangouts.” your voice was playful but it was hard to ignore there was a man sitting on your bed, in your room. you sat beside him, and he damn near scooted completely off the bed on the opposite side. “robert.” your voice was soft and scolding, “you don’t have to sit that far away. please get comfortable…” you eyed him, putting your spare pillows in the space beside you against the headboard for him. “are you sure- i can sit on the floor?” “i didn’t offer my room so you could sit on the floor awkwardly and be uncomfortable.” or maybe he would be more comfortable away from you and your stupid jokes… he looked at you quietly, still waiting for you to change your mind. instead, you pulled your covers back for both of you, looking at him softly, “robert.” bob finally climbed in next to you, sitting down so painfully slowly you thought he was terrified to wrinkle your sheets. you looked at him incredulously, simultaneously trying not to laugh. he winced in embarrassment, finally settled beside you, pulling your blankets over his legs. he wasn’t breathing. you could tell he wasn’t breathing because of how tense and awkward he looked. “robert,” you sighed, looking at him softly, wishing he could just fully relax around you, “i won’t bite you.” bob exhaled, finally sinking deeper into the bed and pillows behind him, the smallest playful smile on his lips, “unless i ask you to?” your breath caught in your throat as you turned to look at him. his eyes had darkened, playful expression gone; replaced with something hungry and testing. you were holding your breath now, suddenly very aware of how hot it was and how close he was to you. bob didn’t look away from you, for the first time since you had known him, he was looking at you with such intensity…and desperation that you felt shy. you wanted to look away, make more distance between you and pretend you didn’t notice the heat and electricity in the room. “right,” you finally squeaked out, nodding weakly. bob actually smirked, darkly, in amusement, clearly proud that he had for once gotten a reaction from you. he looked away from you, head falling against the headboard with a smug smirk. his jaw was clenched, clearly struggling with similar feelings as you, clearly trying to force them away. damn him… you cursed yourself for breaking your number one rule. never ever let anyone get close.

you pummeled the bag again, kick, punch, attempt to jump and kick higher, swear when you failed. the music in your headphones was loud enough to drown out any thoughts and make you deaf. just how you liked it… upper cut, right hook, punch to an imaginary gut. you were still very aware of the eyes that would occasionally look up from behind the pages of a book, watching you sweat and suffer. hitting the bag harder forced your mind away from him, away from the weekly grocery trips— that had also turned into introducing bob to different music, picking new nicknames for the team, a few inside jokes, and most recently, ice cream on the way home– away from the very clear shift that had happened three weeks ago. more often than not, it was the two of you left in the tower alone, while the others were off saving the world- or more minor things. they weren’t liabilities. they were trained. they didn’t have powers that needed to be held back so no one died. your heart was pounding, muscles throbbing, sweat pouring down your forehead and into your eyes. you wiped your eyes, squinting as you opened them once again.

john walker took up your entire field of vision, directly in front or you. you shrieked, throwing out your fist before you could process who it was. “god—!” john stumbled backwards, hand over his nose. “shit-“ you pulled your headphones over one ear, rushing towards john who was stumbling back to his feet. “i’m sorry- i didn’t-“ john pulled his hand away, blood covering his hand and dripping through his fingers. “oh—“bob had looked up, looking pale at the sight of the blood. “bob, get a towel—“ “i’m fine.” walker waved bob off, pushing away from you slightly, “you act like i haven’t been punched before.” you returned with your crumpled shirt from your back, smacking john’s hand away to hold it against his nose. it was better for a shirt to catch his bleeding nose, than his hands that caused blood to drip all over the floor. “thanks.” john reluctantly took the shirt from you, with a slightly apologetic look as he realized it was your shirt. “i can find another plain white shirt, i’m sure.” that one had been your favorite, but you could find another.

“i have been punched before.” he repeated it, the slightest hint of amusement on his face.

“not by me.”

“i think you broke it…” john almost sounded impressed. “you broke my focus…” you responded with a playful smirk. “why were you standing there anyway?” “i was trying to talk to you. i had been yelling for a full minute, but you couldn’t hear me over your angry music.” you grimaced apologetically, realizing sleep token was still blasting from the headphones around your neck. “sorry about my angry music.” your tone was sarcastic as you turned to pause the music from your phone. “why didn’t you ask bob to get my attention?” bob glanced up slightly at his name. walker glanced over to him with an eye roll of annoyance, “i tried.” bob smirked just slightly at this.

“he didn’t want to bother you. he said you were focused.”

“i was focused.”

“he said you might hit me.”

“i did.” you smirked to yourself and heard bob cough behind you. walker laughed this time and you were positive it was the first time he had appeared genuine in front of you; laughing, instead of scowling or complaining. “that was a hell of a punch.” your eyes glanced back to him, playful, amused, almost smug. “i mean it. it feels like you’re getting a lot stronger. it looks like it too.” walker eyed the muscles up your arms and to your shoulder; obviously more defined than they had been weeks ago. you watched his eyes study you, tensing slightly. john wasn’t even saying it in a flirty way- he wasn’t even looking at you like he was thinking anything like that- he didn’t make you feel uncomfortable, but it still felt off, standing this close to him with just your workout bra, soaked in sweat, still breathing hard… “next time you punch…” john gently cupped your elbow, guiding your arm to a different position. he moved your thumb just slightly, “you’ll break it otherwise.” something shattered behind you, causing you both to jump apart, eyes wide. bob was standing, eyes glowing golden, glossy, expression far away. “what are you doing, bobby-“ you shushed walker, taking another step away from walker. bob’s eyes snapped to you, golden rings gone from his irises. he looked confused, glanced at the bench he has been sitting at, trying to remember why he got up. “sorry, i-“ walker had tightened his fists slightly, waiting. “what did i…” bob glanced at to the glass bottle you had been drinking of, now shattered on the floor, “are you okay?” his confused expression immediately turned to concern, “did you drop it? don’t walk by it…” walker’s jaw was clenched, his eyes dark, expression failing to hide the confusion, caution, maybe even fear. “i’ll clean it up…” john sent a final glance to bob; it was cold, warning. you exhaled, not letting your expression falter as you gave bob a small smile, “come on… you can borrow a new book from my room, while i take a shower.”

you rubbed your face with the towel, still feeling the sweat on you. still feeling walker touch your skin. still seeing the burning in bob’s eyes when you looked at him. you wrapped the towel around your middle, groaning to yourself. you had other things to worry about besides whatever the hell that was. you didn’t need to worry about unstable flares of power showing, you didn’t need to worry about your skin tingling when someone touched your bare skin for the first time ever- without it being punishment or violent. you opened your bedroom door and nearly jumped out of your towel. “holy sh— bob!” bob was stretched out on your bed, new book in hand, eyes widening to what should have been an impossible size, “oh-“ it came out as a squeak. bob scrambled off your bed, collapsed to the floor, mumbling something as he tried to stumble back to his feet. “i’m sorry- oh god- i’m so sorry-“ you would have laughed at any other time; the redness on his face made it difficult to even be mad at him. you did say he could get a book from your room… you had never specified for him to take it somewhere else to read. you bit back a smile, trying not to laugh as he just stayed on the floor, on the opposite side of your bed. he was still muttering to himself, damn near hyperventilating. “robert.” no response. he was clearly afraid if he stood up you would shoot him. you shook your head, turning to your closet to find clothes. “robert…” no response. you rolled your eyes with a slight amused smirk, closing your closet door behind you. you pulled on sweatpants and a sweatshirt yelena had cut the neckline out of and then decided she didn’t want. it was not what you would usually wear; exposing your entire shoulders, loose on the arms and slightly baggy everywhere else; but she was right, it was comfortable.

when you stepped out of your closet, bob was waiting on the bed again. he was looking at the floor. “hey,” you snapped by his head and his eyes locked up to yours. “you okay?” you pushed the book aside and sat beside him. “i’m sorry.” he was fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves, “i’m sorry for- being in here- for- you told me to grab a book, i-“ “bob, it’s fine. honestly. i said you could come in here.” you had to talk him out of it before he started spiraling. “hey,” you placed the gentlest finger on top of his hand. his eyes snapped to your finger tapping the back of his hand. he breathed in shakily, eyes wide, staring at your finger like it had shocked him. his hand felt hot under your touch, his pulse quickening slightly against your wrist. “you can be in here, alright? i said you could. if you want to read… or sit on my bed… or if you ever need to talk.” he looked up at you with glossy eyes. he didn’t say anything, just looking at you, “it’s stupid.” you furrowed your brows, “what’s stupid–“

“it feels safe.”

bob looked to the floor again, clearly embarrassed, secretly trying to fight the urge to just get up and walk out. “being in here. being with you… you.” you exhaled, the words tumbling around in your mind, making your head spin, “you think i- you feel safe in here?” bob started fidgeting again, “i told you it was stupid.” “no- hey-“ someone felt safe with you. someone wanted to be around you, stay close to you, sit in silence with you, hang out in your room reading, reading while you worked out, volunteering to go to the grocery store with you. “it’s not stupid. it’s not. it’s really sweet, actually… it’s nice being looked at as.. someone comforting. instead of…” you shook your head, not wanting to go there, “don’t be embarrassed. it’s an honor. and really. come in here whenever you want. even if i’m not here. just- don’t… don’t be weird.” you nudged him with a playful smile, trying to break the serious tone. “oh- no! no, i would never do anything weird. i- i promise.” “i know, bob.” you gave him that same playful look, trying to assure him it was only a joke, “i let you in my car, remember?” bob laughed just a little, sad eyes looking up at you with the faintest smile.

bob leaned back against your headboard as he read, the fidgeting stopped, he was no longer radiating heat, he was just still, lost in a book, content. you glanced over at him occasionally, trying to focus on your own book, ignoring how close you were to someone else in your bed. “you and walker, then?” the words startled you right into a sitting position, looking over to him, hoping you had heard him wrong. he didn’t look up from his book, though his hands shook slightly, knuckles white as he held the book. you just stared at him, waiting, trying to process why this conversation was happening. “walker?” bob tensed slightly. bob said nothing, glaring into the book, eyes not moving on the page. was he- no. was he jealous? of walker?

“because of—?“

“it was me.”

he closed the book, sitting up quickly, face close enough to feel his breath, “the glass.” you held your breath, not sure if him remembering was a good thing… yet part of you wanted to hear him say it. to tell you why it happened. “i don’t know what happened. i was just sitting there and then walker—“ his hand shook slightly, eyes flashing, the slightest shadow passing across his face. “stop,” you grabbed both his hands in your own, “it’s fine. it doesn’t matter. no one got hurt…” “but they could have. you could have…” you exhaled slowly, “but i didn’t. glass breaks all the time… it got cleaned up and it won’t get brought up again.” “but if something happened-“ “nothing happened. walker was there, he-“ bob shook his head, twitching slightly, “can we not- don’t say his name…” his voice was still soft, but it had deepened slightly. this was what the others feared. the instability in his movements, the shaking in his voice, the darkness behind his eyes. “okay… okay. we won’t.” bob looked at you softly, shy, haunted by something, “i’m sorry. i don’t- i don’t know-“ you took his hands again, trying to pull him back to you and out of his own head. “i don’t think you would ever hurt me.” you weren’t there- in new york, in the void- you heard the stories. the horrors. but you just couldn’t imagine… even still. “i know you wouldn’t.” bob shook his head, “i wouldn’t. but you weren’t the one i wanted to hurt...”

a chill ran down your spine, breath catching in your throat. you shifted, just slightly- not away from him, not letting go of his hand. bob looked up at you with a sad expression, “i’m scaring you…” he jerked his hand away, expression hurt. he looked angry, disappointed, betrayed…broken. “no.” you ignored your pounding heart and the twisting in your stomach. “i should go… it’s late…” “no.” bob uncrossed his legs and was walking to the door as soon as his feet hit the floor, “stop. robert-“

“i’m sorry.” he shook his head again, posture deflating slightly, “i really am, i—“

you forced yourself to follow him, grabbing his arm, “robert, stop. i’m not afraid of you.”

bob stopped, his tense body relaxing slightly at your touch. he took a deep breath, turning to look at you over his shoulder; his eyes glowed behind his hair- but they weren’t golden.

“maybe you should be…” his voice was too deep, too dark. he tugged his hand away from your grip, stepping through the threshold, door slamming shut behind him; never once touching it with his hand. you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. it came out in a sob. you hadn’t realized you still had the ability to cry, after all the years of playing cold, staying unattached, acting like the bitch and playing the character that no one would miss– until the tears started falling.

you were in the gym before bucky or john, after not having slept a single second. there was an energy drink and a cup of coffee sitting beside your gym back this morning. you would either be buzzing enough to complete a record length workout, or you would get a quick shortcut to cardiac arrest. you didn’t have a routine ever, just moving to whatever you felt would get the most frustration and aggression out. you hadn’t realized it had been two hours; and you hadn’t realized bucky, yelena and walker were all watching you, wide eyed. the bag broke free of it’s hook, slamming into the wall as you swore. you turned slowly, sweat soaked and lost in your own head; nearly falling over when you came face to face with john. you flinched and this time he held his arm up in case you struck with your fist first again. “picturing my face again?” you almost laughed, the smallest smirk twitching to your lips. bucky whistled, eyeing the bag that now lay helplessly on the floor, “that’s definitely more like your track record…” you eyed him, almost appreciatively, but instead of thanking him you tipped your water to your lips and drained it, “i’m going for a run.” yelena didn’t hide her surprise, silently wondering how you suddenly still had the energy. you nodded to her as you brushed past, head still spinning.

there had been a moment where you knew you should stop– that you were pushing yourself too hard. it was after your stomach muscles felt like they were going to tear, and before your vision had started going funny. your breathing had evened out, body realizing you must have been in a survival situation and convincing your lungs they needed to get over it. your head throbbed, your vision danced slightly, black creeping in around the edges. every time your feet hit the ground, your head felt like it was hit with a baseball bat. you were nauseous, stomach now demanding you to stop or else. you finally did, bracing yourself against a tree, taking in a breath so deep that it hurt. you swore again, letting your head fall against the tree. you closed your eyes, relishing in the overdue rest. footsteps behind you snapped your attention back; you lifted your head so quickly you felt whiplash, “yelena,” you had meant it to be friendlier, “i caught up with you- you’re fast-“ she was out of breath slightly. yelena hated running so the fact that she came after you was a compliment. “you okay? you seem kind of…” she gestured to all of you and then made a grumpy expression. you would have laughed if you didn’t feel sick or in pain everywhere, “fine.” you forced it out, holding your side, “sure, right.” she eyed you with a speculative expression, nodding sarcastically. “i’m fine,” you looked at your watch, only mildly concerned at how many calories you had burned before eating. “bob is looking for you.” your body betrayed you by it’s reaction. you tensed, eyes snapping up to her’s, widening slightly, “is he okay?” yelena’s speculation only grew, crossing her arms, “why wouldn’t he be okay? did something happen?” you hated how she could read people. she was asking, but she knew. “i-“ “walker told me bob looked like he wanted to rip his head off while you two were training. does that sound familiar?” you exhaled, “we almost had a visitor from a certain shadowy friend.” “because john got too close to you and was touching you.” she was amused. “no.” shit. yelena was smiling just slightly, lips tight, eyes scrutinizing you, “because john was touching you-“ “yelena-“ she waved her hand, “whatever. i’m not going to tell you what i see.” are you sure about that? “talk to bob.” she jogged past you without another word, and you swore you could feel the smug expression on her face. you groaned, silently cursing her as you turned, preparing to walk back.

you had not, in fact, talked to bob. but you also were not going to avoid him. he sat next to you on the couch, half reading, half glancing up at you when he thought you couldn’t see him. he was fidgeting- badly- worse than you had seen him in a while. his fingers tapped against the spine of his book, his foot wiggled side to side, and his knee bounced up and down. he was practically vibrating. “bob,” you finally forced yourself to look at him. he froze, eyes widening, cheeks flushing. he had been shaking the entire damn couch. “is something bothering you?” his foot was moving again, “sorry- i’m sorry- i just-“ he closed his book, turning to look at you, “did something happen last night?” oh. “i don’t… i don’t remember… i feel like.. something happened? between us? or…” your heart sank but you felt as if you could breathe easier, “nothing happened.” if he didn’t remember there was no point in reminding him, especially when it was nothing. he looked at you, nodded once, but behind his eyes he didn’t believe you, “okay…” you smiled softly at him, happy there wasn’t this thing between you. “we didn’t um…?” bob’s fingers traced his chin, a phantom brush against his lips. you hated the way your heart leapt at the thought, “oh- no… we didn’t.” shit, it was like you were running again. “you would remember.” you hadn’t meant to say it, but the shy smile and blush on his cheeks was worth it. he nodded, slightly struggling for words, clearly trying to pull himself together. “okay-“ it was quiet, shy. he wasn’t meeting your eyes.

“are you… getting groceries later?”

it was grocery night. john had offered to go with you. you didn’t want john to go with you. you wanted bob to come with you… god, you wanted bob to come. “i am.” please come. “okay. i’ll come.” once again, your damn heart acted like a frantic bird slamming into something, trying to break out.

you had ended up sitting in the park, stars trying to flicker past the light pollution of the city. bob sat next to you, shifting a milkshake between his hands. you held your own ice cream, watching it melt in it’s cup. your body still felt tense, frustration and irritation pulsing through you; now mixed with something else. bob was watching you, silently, foot tapping anxiously, eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made you flinch.

“do you think they’ll ever fully accept us?”

the question hit you like a punch; leaving you feeling like someone had just punched you directly in the gut, taking all the air from your lungs and stolen your words. “i-“ you couldn’t remember if sentry had telekinesis abilities, but his eyes weren’t glowing, so maybe he was just thinking the same thing you had been. “no.” it came out as a sigh. bob’s expression saddened and you wished you hadn’t been so blunt. he nodded once, looking at his feet, “that’s what i thought.” the sadness in his voice made you recoil, cursing yourself for answering honestly. “i think yelena tries. she tries to understand and… include me. but i’m not like them. i can’t control it. i can’t fight… not without.. the other guy…” you felt yourself move closer to him on the bench, “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said-“ “no.” bob’s voice was soft, “don’t apologize. you’re honest. you’re one of the only people that have ever been honest with me.” you felt your heart swell at that, not used to someone appreciating your honesty. “i think they’re lucky to have you. even if you can’t control your powers… there might come a day when you need them. when they need you. one day it might not matter if you can control it, they might just need you.” bob looked at you again, eyes tracing your entire face, likely trying to figure out if you were just saying that to make him feel better. you wouldn’t do that. he knew you wouldn’t. you were the most honest person he had ever meant, even when it was harsh. you kept your eyes locked on his own, feeling that damn tug in your stomach again, ignoring the way your heart jumped.

“they should be happy to have you.” bob broke the stare again, shifting awkwardly, “you do everything for them… forget needing powers.” you scoffed, shaking your head, “anyone can get groceries and write things down, robert.” bob was looking at you again, sadly, “that’s not all you do. that’s- hey-“ he grabbed your hand and you may as well have been electrocuted. “look at me.” you did not want to. you were too scared to see the look he was giving you and what it would do to you. “you’re so much more than just their.. what? house keeper? manager? bullshit.” you looked at him finally, and god, it about did you in. his eyes were burning into yours, intensely, desperately, “you talk them down from fights, you defend me every time they…” his eyes dropped only for a moment, “you make me feel okay. no one has ever done that. yelena tries… she understands to a point… she- but not like you. you don’t treat me differently. you treat me like i’m more normal than they are. like i’m someone worth-“ bob’s jaw clenched and unclenched and you swore if he started crying you would really be out for the count, “i’ve never had that. you make it all okay. for all of us… they all respect you. they don’t say it… they should say it. but you’re so much more than just their housekeeper.” you weren’t completely buying all of it, but you nodded, “i’m glad i mean something to you too.” you hadn’t meant to say that. bob’s eyes snapped up again, listening, clinging to you with his eyes so he didn’t miss a single thing you said. “you-“ you looked away now, not able to handle the intensity and passion behind his eyes, “i’ve never been good for anyone. it’s usually just screw ups and getting people close to me killed.” bob had stood up now, “that was an accident—“ you shook your head, begging the tears to go away, “it wasn’t.” bob had seen it. in the void, in your shame room. he was there, but he still didn’t understand it. “you were a child. trained- manipulated… to be…” he was kneeling in front of you now, eyes locked on you like you were the only thing in the world. “i killed her, robert.” his hands found your knees, resting on them, trying to pull you back to him, despite still being scared to touch you, “stop.” his voice was pleading. “they told me if i went out there and found her and lured her back, i wouldn’t have to kill her. as long as i showed them i was strong enough to act on it-“ you couldn’t feel his fingers grip your knees tighter, “they promised… then they shot her.”

his hands moved to your wrists, holding them, pleading with you to look at him. he knew all about spiraling. about getting lost in your darkest thoughts and getting pulled down. he wouldn’t let that happen to you. he couldn’t watch you relive it again. “look at me.” warmth against your hands pulled you to him, bleary eyed, mind still far away. his eyes glowed a gentle golden, locked on you, not aware of anything else around him. “that wasn’t you.” “i should have just grabbed her and run-“ it came out as a sob and you wished you were just alone, that he wasn’t here to see you like this. “i’m not going anywhere.”

right, mind reading…

“you both would have died, then and you wouldn’t be here. and god, i don’t want a world where that’s the case.” your eyes snapped to his at that and you became aware of how close he was, then. of how he was looking at you, of his hands in your own, of the fact that he was kneeling between your knees. “i—“ he was slightly out of breath; you didn’t know if he was dizzy from your closeness, if he was using his powers to calm you and if it was draining him. or if it was something else. if it was the same feeling you had, a heat in your stomach, the lightheadedness, the roaring in your ears, the tension in you that begged to just be let out… the absolute desperation and need you felt for him that could no longer be ignored and shoved down.

his lips were on you, then; hungry and messy. you gasped as your hands found his hair, fingers tangling in it, pulling him further into you. his breath shook as he took a deep breath against you. “wait, i’m—“ bob’s hands shook slightly, eyes glowing brighter than the stars above you, “i can’t control-“ he was fighting to pull himself away from you, fists clenched as they shook. “i’m sorry-“ you found his lips again and he didn’t protest. his entire body was warm, radiating like a furnace against you. he melted into you, body trembling slightly, fingers shaking as they traced the outline of your shirt. your breath caught, the feel of his finger tips against the skin on your hips making your head spin. bob’s full weight was against you, practically sitting on your lap, melting into you, losing himself against you. his fingers traced your shirt, tugging up slightly on the fabric. “robert-“ you were breathless, lost in him, but also very aware you were on a public bench. “robert-“ you pushed him gently, almost laughing at his dazed expression and light drool on his lips. his eyes still glowed, but there was a darkness behind them. his nose brushed against yours, breathless, tilting his head just slightly to reach your lips, “robert, we’re still in public-“ you exhaled shakily, tilting just slightly out of ready of him. “right,” he breathed out, face reddening, expression still dazed.

bob shifted off you, groaning slightly, pouting as he did. “‘m sorry,” he smiled stupidly, grinning at you like he had just won the entire world. “don’t be sorry for that.” you smirked at him, letting him help you to your feet. god, he made your head spin. he dropped the groceries in the back of your car, climbing in the passenger seat with a sleepy smile. “so… home then.” he sounded disappointed; you felt it… “everyone might be asleep…” bob met your dangerous expression, “or gone…” bob placed a torturous hand on your knee as you put the car in drive.

you put groceries away with shaking hands, fully aware of how bob was looking at you like you were his next meal. he was reading from the couch, but his eyes were above the book, watching your every move. the others were either asleep or not home- you didn’t know, and you didn’t really care. you placed the final box of cereal in the pantry and turned around just to be nose to nose with bob. you exhaled, cursing your legs for growing weak. “i would like to finish what we started.” your breath caught, not at all used to bob being forward and confident. all you could do was nod, feeling pathetic and dizzy. he followed you to your room, watching with hungry eyes as you locked the door behind you. he sat on your bed, eyes softening as you joined him. “i don’t..” he hesitated as your hands found the bottom of his sweatshirt, “please don’t turn away…” your heart caught in your throat as he pulled his shirt over his head, hands gently placed over your own. your eyes dropped, shamelessly, to his ridiculous and dangerous abs. “turned off?” bob almost laughed, “i didn’t say turned off,” his shirt still lay around his neck, arms still in the sleeves, “that’s not what i was talking about…” you held your breath as he pulled his shirt over his head, pulling his arms out of the sleeves. you were still admiring his abs when his arm came to rest against you. your breath caught, choking on the air in your nose, “bob-“ “no…” his voice was quiet, he was no longer meeting your eyes, “please don’t treat me different now. you always call me robert. call me robert…” your eyes followed the numerous lines on his arms, not hearing him as tears filled your eyes. “bob, i-“ he was looking at you, guilty, broken, embarrassed, “please don’t treat me differently, i- they’re old.. most of them are old, they- i haven’t in a long time-“ you were already crying though, not sure how he could expect you not to react at all. to this. to him doing this. “i’m-“

“i’m sorry. i should have warned you, i-“

“why are you sorry?” your voice was flat, void of the usual softness it held towards him, shaking slightly, “why are you apologizing? i- i’m sorry you ever thought- i’m sorry it was bad enough that you-“ bob was looking at you again, still guilty, still trying to hold up his walls for you. you squeezed both his hands, trying to get the tears to stop, “if i had been there-“ bob actually laughed then, “you would have hated me back then.” he tilted your head up to look at him, “god knows i did…” you wiped at your eyes, hating that he was once again seeing you cry, but happy it was at least over him this time, “you promise you’ve stopped? completely?” bob nodded, looking at you shamefully, “i’m better now….. i- i didn’t want you to find out like this. i’m sorry. i didn’t think you would ever see them…”

you bit your lip, stroking his arms with the softest touch, “i’m sorry you thought you deserved this. you didn’t. no matter what you did.” bob’s eyes were on your face, even as your own traced up and down his arms, as your fingers ran gently along the uneven skin. bob was holding his breath, truly feeling like he could cry; knowing he had never felt such a gentle touch- especially on the darkest, most gruesome scars of his past. “i think i’m in love with you.”

you nearly tumbled right off the bed. you were sure your face reflected your shock, but hopefully not the way you were currently fighting for air. “you don’t have to say it back. i don’t even know what that means, really. i’ve never felt it before. not towards me, or directed at someone else… but i know how i feel when i’m with you. and how you make me feel. safe… happy, normal.. like i’m not a freak, or a screw up, or a total loser, or a burden… just.. that i’m me. something i’ve never really felt in a positive way. not really. but when you look at me… or laugh at something i say… being me isn’t…the worst thing ever.”

shit, now you were crying. how could he say those things to you and mean it? he knew what you had done… he knew what you were. what you had trained to be… “robert.” his soft eyes met yours and the look behind them made you nearly break, “i don’t deserve your love. i don’t care what your past was like. you are good. you are the best person i’ve ever met but, i-“ “bullshit.” bob was in front of you again, “absolute bullshit. i don’t want to hear that again. if you can see the good in me, then why the hell shouldn’t you deserve love and second chance when the two times you weren’t perfect were accidents?” damn. he had a point. but still- he was bob. you would never hold yourself to the same standard of the man you loved. “that’s the problem,” he was smiling just slightly, a playful smirk on his lips, “is that you will never see yourself as i do. and you will never see myself the way i do.” oh, damn him and that mind reading ability. “look at me.” you did, shamefully, embarrassed, guilty, “everyone i get close to dies. or i push them away before they can get too close…” bob squeezed your hand, “lucky for you, i can’t die. or even be injured. and i have been told that i am extremely annoying and clingy. so good luck with that other part.” you almost laughed, wiping at the tears in your eyes. bob let go of your hand, exhaling, “you don’t have to say anything back. i’m not expecting anything. i don’t need anything to change between us… as long as we can still be friends and-“ he stood up, a soft but sad smile on his lips, “please just don’t push me away. i’m sorry. i’ll give you time. i’ll go… just… please don’t push me away.”

you grabbed onto his wrist, stopping him before he could walk away. your mind had acted before you were caught up with the plan. bob looked at you wide eyed, eyes slowly moving to your interlocked hands. his skin was hot, always much too hot to the touch, always much more hot than the average person. he looked to you again, hopeful, expectant. say something, stupid. say something before he walks out, or before he starts another anxious rambling. what if you said something stupid and hurtful again? you tugged on his arm so quickly and suddenly that bob stumbled against you. his eye’s widened as he landed directly in your lap, stumbling over apologies as he struggled to get off you. your arms wrapped around his waist, tightly, holding him against you. bob’s breath caught, tensing against your touch. you pulled him in by the hair before he could mutter one more apology.

his breath hitched, inhaling shakily against your lips. he closed his eyes as he reciprocated, hotter, heavier, with even more passion. your own heart jumped, skipping entirely too fast to be healthy. bob melted into you, his full weight sending you gently against the mattress. his arms wrapped around you tightly, fingers tracing your skin softly beneath your shirt. your heart leapt, breath shaking, silently wondering who lit off fireworks in your stomach. bob pulled you closer against him, lifting your back off the mattress. you could have passed out right then alone, but then his other hand pulled your shirt over your head, as he continued to hold you against him. your head spun. the pair of you let out a sharp breath at the feeling of warm skin against warm skin. the room was spinning as his lips found yours again, messily, desperately. the room buzzed with electricity- or maybe it was just your head struggling to keep up with the rest of you. bob shifted down your jaw, to your neck, to your collarbone. you shifted, swearing that the room was sitting on top of a frisbee that had been thrown. his fingers against your skin sent electric bolts through your skin, heat spreading through you rapidly. his touch was soft and so full of love. his skin against you, comforting, the heat building all the way into your stomach. it was nothing like you had ever felt. it was gentle, careful, protective. nothing like hands that had been on you in the past; forceful, rough. no. you forced the memories down- refusing to ruin the moment. the perfect way he melted against you, the way he held you gently, but firmly. soft, but protective. bob was nearly gasping for air as he broke away from your skin. you would have smirked if you weren’t so pathetically out of breath and worked up yourself. he shook slightly, his eyes glowing a soft golden when he finally looked at you. “i’m sorry-“ he had a stupid smile on his lips, embarrassed, “too much-“ his hands shook and you were sure he was fighting for restraint, pulling himself together, not wanting to lose control. still, you grinned at him, foolishly and exhausted. “i’m sorry, i just-“ you stroked his hair as he collapsed into your chest, breathless and sweaty.

“too much…” he hummed against your skin, completely wrecked without even going further. completely lost to the world as soon as you started playing with his hair. “there’s no hurry.” you would have hated yourself if he did truly feel bad about needing to stop, “we have time.” there would be several nights of messy passion and tangled sheets. right now, all you wanted was to feel his skin against you, warm and soft- and his arms around you, firmly and protective.

“stay here tonight. with me…” it was not a question, but bob answered by pulling you closer to him, nestling your face into his chest, just under his chin. you breathed deeply, inhaling his scent, breathing him in. bob said nothing, breathing deeply, breath still shaky, holding you against him, “i’m all yours.”

—————————

a/n: this took me soooo long oml. im not sure i love all of this, but i wanted to post something and finally finish this since i started it june 7th😵‍💫

[a99jazzybean]

OR it could be jaycexreader trying pot brownies 😬 I think that’ll be funny and can get spicy. If your are comfortable with it of courseee

This one was cute and fun to write! Thank you for the request!

High Enough

synop: You decided to make pot brownies for your roommate, but realize you don't have enough bud. You decide that using juice from a cart is a good idea. Jayce eats some of the brownies not realizing they have weed in them. He convinces you to get high and shenanigans ensue.

Reader is gender neutral but AFAB

words: 3.5K

includes: jaycexgn!reader, modern au, recreational drug use, weed use, high sex, creampie, smut

a/n: Guys, DO NOT make pot brownies like this. This recipe was inspired by my dumbass friends that poured a cart out into brownie mix. A tiny piece had me knocked out in 30 minutes. Do not recommend.

Dammit… You were all out of bud. You swore you had some left, but found measly crumbs at the bottom of your stash jar. That’s what you get for switching to pens you suppose. 

A lightbulb went off in your head. That’s it! You could use a cart. That couldn’t go wrong, right? 

You grabbed a fresh cart and some needle nose pliers and went to work on the cap. After some careful maneuvering, you managed to get it open without breaking the glass. Dumping it in your mixing bowl, you got to work making some brownies. 

Turning on some tunes, you hummed and danced your way through cracking eggs and measuring flour. The brownies were for one of your roommates, Viktor. A “thank you” for getting you out of a bind on a major school project. 

While they were a gift, you obviously were planning on trying them out yourself. Especially since you were experimenting with using a different form of weed. Probably best to see how you fared before accidentally making your friend green out. 

When the brownies baked you found that this batch appeared to have less of the typical pungent scent than if you used flower. Noted. 

After baking you left out the pan to cool. Deciding you needed a shower after accidentally covering yourself in flour, you headed down the hall. As you bathed, your other roommate returned home. 

Upon entering, his nose and eyes were immediately drawn to the fresh baked brownies on the counter. Mouth watering, he skipped over to the kitchen. As the apartment’s resident baker, it wasn’t uncommon for you to randomly make goodies to share. Jayce saw this as no different. Pulling out a knife, he cut himself a decent piece of brownie. Taking a large bite out of the gooey chocolate, he moaned with content. 

When you walked out of the bathroom, you heard Jayce shuffling out in the kitchen. Eyes widening, you rushed in. It was too late. The man had already scarfed down the brownie, his hand reaching once more to cut out  another piece. 

“STOP!” You yell, hand out. 

Turning around, Jayce gave you a confused wide-eyed stare. 

“What’s wrong?” Oh how naive the man was. 

“Jayce, those are pot brownies.” 

“Wait, really? I can’t taste it at all.” 

“I might have used juice from a cart instead of flower…” You trailed sheepishly. 

“WHAT???” His eyes grew even wider. “Why the fuck would you do that?” 

“I ran out of bud! And I wanted to do something nice for Viktor!” You shrugged your shoulders. 

“Something nice for-“ He let out an exasperated sigh. “ I’m pretty sure what you have created might put the man in a coma.”

You scoffed. 

“I doubt it. He’s got an insane tolerance.” 

“Regardless, I’ve eaten one.” His eyes narrowed at you. 

“Don’t blame me! You ate one without asking!” 

“You bake things all the time! How was I supposed to know?” He was growing very concerned. 

“Hey, let’s calm down.” You softened your voice. The last thing you needed was for Jayce to spiral. 

“How are you feeling?”

“I can already feel my head getting lighter.” 

“Okay, so we know it hits pretty quickly.” You walked up to him slowly, taking his hand to help ground him. 

He grasped yours tightly. 

“I’ll keep an eye on you, kay?” Your thumb traced circles on the back his hand. The tender action made him shiver. 

“What if you joined me?” Gears were turning in his head. 

“What do you mean?”

“Eat one too.” He gave you pleading puppy dog eyes. 

“Jayce, we have no idea how this will affect you, much less me.” You shook your head at him. 

“Were you just planning on giving them to Viktor?” He eyed you suspiciously. 

“W-well, no. I was going to try them-“ 

“Then try them. Since you were already planning on it.” He cut you off. 

Those damned pleading puppy-dog eyes had you wavering. Really, what would be the harm? As long as you stay home you should be fine, hopefully. 

Nodding, you gave his hand a squeeze of reassurance. He beamed at your response, making your heart swell.

Ushering you over to the counter, Jayce cut out a piece for you. You took it, giving the treat a once-over. Looking at Jayce, he was shifting side-to-side impatiently. Eyes blown out, leaving a tiny visible ring of a hazel iris. 

“This is what that D.A.R.E. officer warned me about in eighth grade.” You sighed, then took a bite. 

Chocolatey goodness filled your senses. Jayce was right, you couldn’t taste anything off about the brownies. Oh, that was dangerous. 

You swallowed then looked at Jayce expectantly. 

“What now?”

“We could chill in my room, or yours. Doesn’t matter to me.” He shrugged nonchalantly. 

Jayce really, really did not want to be left alone right now. And if you were going to be in the same state as him might as well do it together, right? It’s not like he was expecting anything out of it. After all, you were very good friends. But in his weed addled mind, there was a teensy part of him that was hoping for maybe something more. 

See, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous in the man’s eyes. While you had been close friends for a long while now, Jayce secretly wished for something more. 

It didn’t help that the two of you had enjoyed the occasional sloppy make out sesh that followed an evening of drinking. Giving the man just a taste of what you had to offer, and nothing more. 

The thing was, you also wanted a little something more as well. Not necessarily a relationship. But having a hot piece of ass like him around was tempting to say the least. 

“We can chill in my room.” You said, grabbing his hand and dragging him down the hall. 

Jayce had spent time in your room every so often, but it still felt like a sacred space. Especially now when it felt like his mind was floating. 

Once in your room you hopped onto your bed. Sinking into the mattress with a satisfied sigh. This was the best part about being high. Just laying down and feeling it hit you. Limbs sinking down into the plush of your bed. Lifting your head a bit, you spotted Jayce awkwardly watching you. Shuffling in place like he didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing. 

“Get in here, Talis.” You motioned for him to join you. 

He padded over to your bed, then laid down beside you. A small smile on his face as he watched you in content bliss. 

“It’s so nice to just sink in.” You sighed. 

“I take it the brownie has hit?” 

You nodded with a hum. Allowing yourself to enjoy the pleasant buzz in your head. 

Reaching out, you grabbed Jayce’s hand. He intertwined his fingers with yours and you let out another sigh. 

“You have really nice hands.” You lifted his hand above your face, studying it. “So warm. They’re working hands,” you traced the calluses at the top of his palm, “but somehow still soft. Yes, very nice hands.” You hummed bringing his palm to your lips and placing a tender kiss in the center.

Mouth agape, Jayce stared at you wide eyed. A red flush dusting his cheeks. 

Looking at him, you gave him a sweet smile. One he couldn’t help but return. 

Even though you were holding his hand, the distance between you felt too far. Jayce wrapped his free arm around you, pulling you closer to him. Nose to nose, you giggled. This felt… really nice. Humming, you nuzzled your nose against his. The adorable action made him blush even harder. 

Damn, you sure got physical when high. Not that he minded. 

“Jayce…” You mumbled, then pressed yourself into the space beneath his chin. Your face pushed into his chest. “You’re soooo warm.” 

“I think you’re higher than I am.” 

Shrugging your shoulders you nuzzled into his chest. The man curled his arms tighter around you. Leaning his head down, he pressed a warm kiss onto your forehead. 

“This feels really nice.” You murmured.

The comforting sinking returned. Feeling your body go heavy as you slumped into the man. Almost like you were going to meld with him.

Jayce’s skin was buzzing. Your touch feels ten times more intense than normal. As you curled up into the man, your hands roamed over him. Trailing up his torso and neck, fingers curling into his hair. Slowly they skimmed back down his arms. A pattern of movements that had him shivering against you. God, did it feel amazing. 

“I really like that…” He said softly, kissing your forehead again. 

“Mmm, yeah?” You gave him a dazed smile.

“Yeah.”

Your hands returned to his hair. Fingers scraping against his scalp, making him let out a low groan. 

“You’re like a puppy.” You giggled to yourself as you continued to pet him. “So cute.”

“A puppy?” He questioned.

“Yeah. The way you’re responding to my pets. And you have puppy-dog eyes.” 

“Puppy-dog eyes?” He gave you a confused look, head cocked to the side. Looking exactly like a confused dog.

Giggling again, you snuggled as close as you could to the man.

“Puppy-dog eyes that convinced me to get high with you.” You poked him in the chest. “They’re dangerous.”

He chuckled, puffs of air hitting the top of your head.

“Dangerous.”

“Exactly. So use them for good next time.” You admonished him with a finger. 

“Is this not something good?”

Pondering on it, you shrugged. 

“I’m not complaining, I suppose.” You gave him a sweet smile.

“Anything I can do to make it better?” 

“I dunno. You got any ideas?” You gave him a sultry look. 

He licked his lips nervously, eyes darting between your own and your lips. Leaning up, you pressed your nose against his. Lips just barely brushing against his. Looking into his eyes expectantly, you spoke softly.

“Well?” 

Warm lips crashed into yours messily. The man moaned as soon as he pressed against you. Every fiber of his body on fire when you pressed your lips against his. Teasingly, you lightly lapped against his bottom lip. Jayce slightly opened his mouth, inviting your tongue to tangle with his. You slid your tongue into his mouth, groaning at his taste. 

His hands roamed over your body. Appreciating the fact you wore nothing under your comfy pjs. Large fingers pinched your nipples over your clothes. You squeaked at the sudden sparks of pleasurable pain. He swallowed the sound, moaning against you. He was rutting against your thigh, making you feel the prominent bulge straining against his sweats. 

Pausing for a breath, you slightly pushed away, looking over him. This probably shouldn’t go further. Although there was a burning ache in your groin, you knew that going into this high wasn’t the smartest decision. But you didn’t really make a smart decision on the brownies while sober… so perhaps the night was one ready for many mistakes. Though you didn’t feel like hooking up with Jayce was a mistake. It could be for him though, you wouldn’t hold that against him. 

“Is everything okay?” He wanted to pull you back to him.

“Uh, yeah. I just don’t know if we should continue. I wouldn’t want you to regret anything.” You looked away from him, embarrassed.

“I could never regret anything with you.” His eyes pleaded with you, hips shaking as he did his best not to rut himself against you again. 

His words made your heart swell, a blush flushing on your cheeks. Pushing yourself back in, you gave him a deep kiss. Fuck it. You wanted this, your body was making you feel like you needed this. 

“I’ll take it you’re okay with us continuing?”

“Oh fuck yes.” You pressed your lips against his again, earning you a deep moan. 

Jayce returned to rubbing up against your thigh. Letting out little whimpers at the friction against his hard cock. Feeling his length against you had you drooling at the thought of him inside of you. Through the fabric of his pants you could feel how long and thick he was. It would be a stretch, but you wanted all of the man in front of you.

“C-can I taste you?” Jayce pulled back for a breath. “I really want you to sit on my face.” 

That had you flushing furiously. 

“Are you sure?” You asked softly. A part of you was concerned about hurting him.

“Yes. I want- no. I need it.” 

You nodded, agreeing. He beamed at you before shuffling your bodies on the bed. Rolling himself beneath you. You were straddling his waist and felt the head of his cock through his pants brush against your clothed sex. You whimpered at the friction. 

Jayce reached for your sleep shorts, eyes asking for permission. Nodding, you maneuvered your legs to help him remove the article. After tossing them, he turned to look at you. Groaning at the shiny slick coating your pussy and thighs. Lifting you up, he encouraged you to crawl to his face. Obliging, you made your way above him. Holding onto the headboard, you slowly lowered yourself over him. Large arms encircled your thighs, forcing you onto his waiting mouth. The sudden action makes you cry out. 

With a warm tongue, Jayce licked a stripe down your pussy. Your body was buzzing and sensitive with your high, making the pleasure more intense. Lapping through your folds, Jayce was making you release noises you had never known you could make before. Each whine and moan shot straight to his straining cock. Twitching impatiently as he made you fall apart on his tongue. 

You had to use the headboard to stabilize yourself. Around his head, your thighs were shaking as pure pleasure coursed through your body. Warmth was growing in your belly with each tantalizing lick against your clit. 

Beneath you, Jayce groaned. You were fucking delicious. He felt like he could stay under you for hours. Hearing the sounds you were making made him wish he could just hold you pressed against his tongue. 

“C-close!” You squeaked out. 

Jayce had begun flicking his tongue against you quickly. Each flick builds up your climax. With how sensitive you were, it would only be a matter of time before you burst. His tongue continued to flick against you rapidly. At this point, your entire body was shaking with the build of your orgasm. One perfectly placed swirl against your clit was your undoing. 

Practically screaming, you came on his face. Squirting over his chin with the force that your orgasm hit you. Between your squeezing thighs, Jayce thought he died and went to heaven. Oh he would gladly die squished in your plush thighs, your taste filling his senses. 

He only gave you a brief moment before his mouth was back on you.

“Jayce!” You squealed as he overstimulated your cunt. 

It seemed like he didn’t need to breathe as he continued to eat you out with fervor. Tongue tasting every inch of you, occasionally pushing into you. You could barely keep your body up as the shaking grew stronger. Your climax rapidly grows with each lap against your sopping pussy. 

With a shaky hand, you reach for the top of his head. Fingers curling into his hair. The feeling made him moan against you. 

This time, your orgasm hit you like a train. Crashing through your entire body with a giant wave of pleasure. Above him you twitched and whimpered as his tongue continued to lick you. Eventually you pressed your hand against his forehead, making him let you go.

“T-too much, Jayce!” You whined.

Sliding off of his face, you flopped belly down onto the bed. Jayce eyed your bare ass and legs, licking his lips with anticipation. He slid behind and over you. Turning to watch him, you felt your thighs clench. Flopping against his belly was probably the most enticing cock you had ever seen. Tip flushed an angry red, just begging to be fucked. 

Jayce looked at you, the hunger in his gaze making you shiver. Wiggling your hips, you urged him to continue. He spread your legs, and pressed down on your back. You lifted your hips, whining impatiently.

Because of that, Jayce decided to tease you. Dragging his cock between your folds. Gathering up your ever-accumulating slick dripping out of you. His cock caught on your entrance, making you whimper. Fuck, you needed him to fill you. You felt like you were floating and sinking at the same time. A pleasurable bliss that was about to get better. 

Slowly, Jayce pressed himself into you. Thick cock stretching you out deliciously. Both of you moaned as he continued to push his length inside. His cock brushing against the gummy spot that had you keening. 

“That feel good?” He leaned his body over yours, murmuring into your ear. 

It felt too good. You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Instead, you decided to nod vigorously. Hoping he would move inside you. 

“Mmm, good.” He crooned, pulling out slowly then slamming back into you. 

Your whole body jolted with pleasure as his cock began to abuse your sweet spot. Head of his length continuing to hit it over and over again. Clutching the bedsheets you were a sobbing mess. The oversensitivity from your high mixed with the pure pleasure the man was giving you caused tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. 

“J-Jayce!” You cried out and one very intense thrust. 

“F-fuck,” he released a stuttering breath against your neck. “Please cum, please cum for me. I need to feel you. So fucking bad.” He nuzzled into your shoulder.

Jayce would soon be getting his wish. An intense pleasure was blooming within you, making you gasp and moan. This man was making you feel like an overstimulated puddle. Each press of his cock makes the pleasure grow tenfold. Your entire body was ready to shatter. 

And shatter you did. Jayce’s cock thrusting in and out of you, draggin your orgasm along with it. Your pussy clenched his cock, drenching your bed sheets as you came. 

Jayce groaned, but held himself back. He needed to feel you do that at least one more time. 

You whined when he pulled out of you, then yelped when he flipped you over. A brief moment of soberness had you remembering that he was actually really strong. Then your stoned brain chimed in with how fucking hot it was that he was manhandling you so desperately.

He had you on your back, legs hooked over his shoulders. As he pressed back into your wet heat, he gave you a sloppy kiss. The two of you catching eachother’s moans of pleasure. He pushed up your shirt to your shoulders. Warm hands cupped your breasts, teasing over your nipples. The action makes you shiver all over. 

His hands moved to your waist to give him more leverage. Fast thrust pummeled the sweet spot within you. Jayce managed to hit it perfectly in this position too. Crying out, you felt a sting of pleasure. Thick fingers were circling your abused clit, sending sparks shooting through your body. Moans and whimpers escaping you with each circle. Your hands clenched his biceps for purchase as your body shook. 

He could feel your pussy pulsing around him. Another climax building inside you. He chased your high, wanting to cum with you. Knowing he could burst at any moment, Jayce hoped you would join him. The tightness in his balls was growing a bit too unbearable. 

As if your body was answering his wish, he felt you clench against his length. Unconsciously thrusting your hips as you chase down your orgasm. A scream of pleasure ripping out of you as you gushed around him. 

Warmth filled you as Jayce was granted his release. Cock twitching deep inside you as hot ropes of his cum poured in. A pleasurable feeling that seemed never ending. Jayce’s orgasm lasted long after he had fully unloaded in you. Cock overstimulated with the feeling of your tight twitching walls around him. 

Both of you came down from your orgasm highs. Still extremely high from the brownies. Something that could easily be read based on your drooping eyelids and dopey smiles. Before pulling out, Jayce kissed all over your face. You giggled as his lips pecked all over your cheeks.

“That was amazing.” He purred against your neck, giving you a kiss. “You are amazing.” 

“You feel sososososo good, Jayce.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. 

With a groan, Jayce pulled out of you. His eyes transfixed on your pussy now dripping out his spend.

“That’s hot.” He looked up, chuckling at your confused expression. 

Kissing your forehead, he stood up. 

“I’ll get us cleaned up.”

After a moment, Jayce returned with a wet washcloth. Softly he wiped you down. You softly thanked him for helping you. He responded with a sweet kiss. 

When you were both cleaned up, Jayce returned to snuggle up in your bed. Large warm arms held you close to him. You felt yourself drifting as Jayce spoke to you softly. The man letting out a stream of compliments and fond memories. Occasionally he would kiss you, feeling like he was drowning in your lips. 

“We should do this again.” Jayce said softly.

“Yeah? Yeah.” You giggled, answering yourself.

“Though I think we could skip the brownies next time.” 

[zeropro]

How long have they been away from Cybertron, and is the planet alright or a hustle world?

I think at some point I'm gonna make a post with all my AU content in chronological order, but for now you can just have my notes on the timeline.

(check tags for the tldr on the ask)

Here’s the current timeline so far…

Long ass time ago BCE

The first Cybertronian Golden Age

Luna 1 disappears

Paradise era, Knights of Cybertron leave

Cybertronian Dark Age (The Age of Barbarism)

Rise of the thirteen

Cyberutopia is created somewhere

Onyx Prime (who is NOT Shockwave in this AU) attempts a colonialism

The Dead Universe and Unicron are created

Caminus, Velocitron, and other planets are colonized by Titans

Megatrous kills Solus Prime with the Star Saber

First civil war

During experimentation into gestalt technology, five beastformers are made into the first successful Combiner team: the Predacons

After the war, Nova Prime ushers in the Second Golden Age and resets the calendar

5.7 million BCE

“Functionist sentiment becomes an institution of society overseen by the Functionist Council, with robots expected to stick to a single job determined by their alt modes.” -tfwiki

Nova Prime enacts “The Expansion,” for which the first wave of cold constructed Cybertronians are brought online

Megatron (1st cycle 012) and Orion Pax are born under Functionalism. Megatron is one of the first cold constructed mechs.

The Constructicons are created

Nova Prime disappears into the dead universe and Nominus Prime takes leadership under a new corrupt senate. Expansion is put on hold

Megatron works as a miner in Tarn (demolition=menial labor class) Megs wanted to be a medic but quickly gives up on that dream

Orion Pax works as a dock worker in Iacon (truck=transport class) OP wanted to be an archivist and is able to work his way up to it due to having access to greater social mobility

Cybertron experiences no shortage of violence: civil wars, riots, off-world campaigns, and alien invasions continue to happen sporadically throughout its history. Wanting to bolster Cybertron’s airforce, a new style of war-frame is designed and mass produced. These cold constructed jets received the classification: Seekers (after their intended function: seek and destroy)

Skywarp is born (6th cycle 023) as a first generation Seeker and was immediately sent to the military. He is then at some point reassigned to spec ops due to his powerful outlier ability.

Seekers offline too easily so the next few waves of Seekers are sent to the Cybertronian War Academy for training before joining the military

Skywarp is sent to Praxus and subjected to intensive study. Space bridge and quantum based hyper-drive technology will later see great advancements thanks to his contributions to science

Thundercracker is brought online as one of the last batch of Seekers (24th cycle 124). By then the Cybertronian War Academy roster was too full so he was given the (limited) option to pick his vocation. He chose to work as a courier in Vos.

“Those who were constructed cold face institutionalized apartheid; although this eventually ends due to mounting public pressure, including mass protests and marches. However, intrinsic prejudice against constructed cold Transformers persists in among a sizable percentage of the population.” -tfwiki

Megatron and pax become friends while advocating against cold construct apartheid and functionalism. Pax considered Megatron like a brother to him but Megatron always felt distanced by their class divide

Scientists have been pulling sparks out of the Matrix faster than frames can be constructed for them. Sparks without ready frames will be “frozen” for future use

The Matrix "runs dry" (is replaced by a fake) and cold construction as a common method of creation stops entirely

The Senate’s evil science division, the Institute, establishes Shadowplay and Empurata as common practices

The energy crisis forces a planet-wide rationing of resources

Cryak commissions a Seeker frame to be constructed and has a thawed spark placed in it. Starscream is born (22nd cycle 415).

5 million BCE

Starscream escapes

Thundercracker finds Starscream

4.5 million BCE

Due to the energy crisis, tension is high between city-states. The Senate establish the sport of Gladiatorial games to try and mitigate the animosity. These games are held in Kaon and become very popular

Starscream defies Functionalism by pursuing many different jobs. Whenever he would get in trouble or fall on hard times he’d turn to Thundercracker for help

Orion Pax encourages Megatron to publish his political writings

Orion Pax joins the police force

The first appearance of the pacifist grassroots movement calling themselves Decepticons. Their ideology is based on Megatron’s first published treatise

Megatron is caught in a bar fight and is wrongfully arrested. Whirl beats him up in jail, changing Megatron’s perspective on violence

Megatron loses his job due to automation and signs up to be a gladiator

Starscream goes to college (not really, I just like to call the period of time where he went to work as a Scientist in Iacon "college" cuz it's funny XD) and meets Skyfire. The two become close

Senator Protius promises to make the Decepticons a real political party by way of census. In truth he just wanted a list of names so they can shadowplay all the Decepticons. Skyfire almost signs on but Starscream convinces him not to

Megatron continues to publish his writings while gaining fame as a gladiator. The Decepticon movement takes a shift from pacifism towards terrorism

Skywarp likes watching the gladiator fights whenever they are assigned to patrol the events  

The gladiator Ravage finds a discarded Soundwave struggling to deal with his telepathic powers and takes him under his wing

Skywarp plays a prank on the government

Starscream and Skyfire go off-world on an expedition, intending to travel to the Sol system and back (they're gone for about 40 turns on the Cybertronian calendar, or approximately 50,000 Earth years)

The Senate discover Nominus’ matrix is a fake and have him secretly killed

The Senate enacts the Clampdown

Thundercracker loses his job and is forced to join the military

4.3 million BCE

Senator Shockwave gets shadowplayed

Sentinel Prime takes leadership

The Decepticons begin secretly forming an army under Megatron

Orion Pax and Megatron break up

Starscream returns to Cybertron without Skyfire and is subsequently tried for Skyfire’s murder, for which he was found innocent. He is still expelled from the Academy

Starscream goes back to Vos, and crashes on Thundercracker's couch for a while

Thundercracker takes Starscream to watch a gladiator fight, which is where Starscream takes note of Megatron

Despite his reservations, Starscream joins the military in order to learn how to fight as well as gain rapport with the military Seekers

While stealing a military airship, Megatron finds Skywarp locked up in the ship's engine room and rescues him. Skywarp joins the Decepticons

Tension between Vos and Tarn is at an all time high, leading to outright civil war between the two city-states

4 million BCE

The Bombing of Vos ends the civil war

Megatron shows up to recruit Decepticons in the aftermath of the Vos-Tarn civil war. Starscream stands up and gives a speech that convinces the majority of Vos' Seeker population to join the Decepticons

Starscream joins the Decepticons

Starscream uses Skywarp to get close to Megatron

The Decepticons threaten war by launching an attack on Iacon. Starscream leads the group that levels the Academy to the ground. He doesn't feel better.

Thundercracker is deployed to help quell the Decepticon activity in Iacon. Thundercracker confronts Starscream and Starscream begs him for help. Thundercracker joins the Decepticons

Megatron is captured and almost gets shadowplayed, but escapes thanks to Starscream, Skywarp, and Soundwave

Megatron no longer thinks the current system can be changed, even with violence. Now his aim is to burn it all down and rebuild from scratch.

Starscream and Soundwave massacre the entire Senate 

Shockwave joins the Decepticons

Megatron officially declares war

Megatron defeats Sentinel Prime and Zeta Prime takes leadership

The Fall of the First Five Cities

Zeta Prime attempts a war crime, Orion Pax and Megatron team up to stop him, and then Megatron betrays Orion and leaves him to die

Orion Pax becomes Optimus Prime

The Battle of Sherma Bridge, where Optimus Prime and Megatron first clash (allegedly)

Praxus falls

Starscream becomes Air Commander. He appoints Thundercracker and Skywarp as his Wing Second and Third. The Trine is complete

Decepticons pull ahead and as a last ditch effort the Autobots thaw previously frozen sparks to construct a new army of MTOs

War happens

The Trine grow close

Megatron gets worse

3 million BCE

War continues to happen

Megatron at this point has tunnel visioned into wanting only one thing: defeating Optimus Prime

Megatron and Prime get into giant hamster balls and play WOW for several vorn. Starscream is mad about it

Starscream starts trying to take over the Decepticons and Megatron physically punishes him for it.

While on a mission, Thundercracker meets Bumblebee briefly

Skywarp accidentally sacrifices himself to protect Starscream, almost dying. Starscream is devastated to find he actually cares about this idiot

1 million BCE

The Autobots (aboard the Ark) and the Decepticons (aboard the Nemesis) leave Cybertron in search of resources

They crash on prehistoric Earth and remain in stasis for one million years

The war continues on Cybertron, lead by Shockwave and Elita1

0.9 million BCE

The Decepticons overthrow Shockwave and he flees to Luna 2

Hot Rod gathers a rag tag crew and leaves Cybertron on the Lost Light in search of Optimus Prime

The Lost Light discovers the Dead Universe and Nova Prime

Cyclonus joins the Lost Light crew

0.7 million BCE

Shockwave clones Sunstorm

The Great Shutdown: Cybertron completely runs out of energy and everyone falls into stasis

The Lost Light return to Cybertron. Upon finding everyone in stasis, they venture back into space to find a solution

1984

Reawakened on Earth, the Autobots continue to wage their battle to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons

The Decepticons rebuild the Nemisis into the Victory and try to head back to Cybertron, but they crash into the ocean after Autobot interference

Megatron orders Shockwave to build him a space bridge while he collects energy on Earth to revive Cybertron

Megatron begins abusing Starscream

Typical G1 Cartoon shenanigans occur

Wheeljack builds the Dinobots

The Decepticons find Skyfire in the ice. Starscream tries to get Skyfire to join the Decepticons, but Skyfire refuses when Starscream proves willing to harm humans

Starscream starts to have nightmares. He stops sleeping well

1991

Shockwave completes his space bridge and visits Earth, only to find Megatron has completely lost the plot. After serving on Earth for a few years he goes back to Luna 2 with the intent on finishing his doomsday device, only to find Sunstorm has escaped. He begins migrating his lab to the Decepticon's ocean base on Earth in order to finish his work there.

Megatron obtains frozen sparks from Cybertron and builds the Stunticons. The Autobots rescue half the sparks he had brought over and create the Aerialbots

Starscream's plots to overthrow Megatron are becoming more and more unhinged. At some point he goes to Cybertron and steals some incarcerated memory components and builds the Combaticons, effectively freeing these criminals (including Swindle) from jail

Hot Rod and the Lost Light crew arrive on Earth

2008

Megatron goes too far

Thundercracker defects

2009

After the Decepticons destroyed several human cities, the Autobots finally defeat Megatron with the help of their human allies at the Battle of New York

Seeing that Megatron has fallen, Starscream declares himself the new leader, but Soundwave rescues Megatron's mostly dead body and convinces Shockwave to try and fix him

Optimus Prime dies of his injuries and Bumblebee becomes leader

Hot Rod, now going by Rodimus, leaves Earth on the Lost Light

2010

The humans are justifiably angry with the Cybertronians for destroying their world. Unable to leave the planet, the remaining Decepticons either get captured or go into hiding. 

Thundercracker watches a lot of TV and is now friends with Bumblebee

The Autobots are helping capture Decepticons on Earth

Starscream struggles to lead the Decepticons

2011

Sunstorm arrives on Earth

Starscream frees the Decepticons from human containment, but they still wont follow him

2012

The humans have rebuilt the cities that were destroyed by the Decepticons three years ago

Everyone basically living as tho the war is over

Megatron is brought back by Shockwave and immediately goes to punish Starscream for doing a poor job leading the Decepticons, even tho Starscream did his best.

Skywarp's loyalty to Megatron finally breaks apart, and he gets them out of there before Megatron turns violent, effectively defecting from the Decepticons

Starscream tries to apologize to Thundercracker in order to get his help with fighting Megatron, but Thundercracker turns him down. Starscream shoots Thundercracker in the back, much to Skywarp’s dismay

Starscream and Skywarp hide out on Earth for a bit

Megatron is trying to gather his scattered forces, specifically the combiners

Starscream and Skywarp have an argument and part ways for a bit

Starscream comes across some Decepticon activity and attacks them

Megatron shows up and begins beating Starscream to a pulp

Skywarp jumps in to save Starscream but is shot mid-warp and his warp drive destabilizes

With no other option, Starscream turns to the Autobots for help, with Skywarp in tow

Thundercracker gets a dog

And that's where we are now! Thanks so much for reading!

The current plan going forward is as follows:

1 year later (2013): Combiner Wars, which leads directly into Dark Cybertron [feat. Sunstorm] followed by the Presidential Arc, which lasts about 3-5 years ending in the Apology Comic

[aerialmirrorss]

𝐧 𝐨 𝐛 𝐨 𝐝 𝐲 𝐠 𝐞 𝐭 𝐬 𝐦 𝐞 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ rafe cameron

playing: 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐞 by sza 𝜗𝜚˚｡˚ ⋆

synopsis! a kickback on the beach involving both kooks and pogues turns ugly after rafe sees jj maybank talking sweetly in your ear..

paring: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

warnings: friends? with benefits , angst , mentions of underage drinking , violence (fist fighting) , toxic!rafe , sexual content + rough unprotected car sex! , choking , fingering , mature , 18+ (minors dni!)

word count: 6.7k

notes: thinking about making this into a series but it just depends on how we all like it so lmk!

chapter two: 𝐰 𝐢 𝐥 𝐝 𝐟 𝐥 𝐨 𝐰 𝐞 𝐫 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

chapter three: 𝐜 𝐚 𝐬 𝐮 𝐚 𝐥 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

“you’re a fucking idiot,” kie says through a burst of laughter, watching jj attempt to shotgun two beers at once. instead of drinking, most of the beer spills straight onto the sand, leaving him grinning like it was all part of the plan.

a soft giggle slips past your lips as jj smashes the crushed cans together dramatically, then thumps his chest like he just pulled off something incredible—even though he couldn’t have failed more miserably.

you shake your head, pointing at the two crushed cans lying in the sand. “don’t give him any more if he’s gonna pull shit like that!” you say, half-serious, half-amused.

jj’s grin fades into a mock frown, his brows furrowing as he throws his hands up dramatically. “what? i was just getting started!” he protests, though the beer-soaked sand beneath him says otherwise.

you roll your eyes, ready to fire back at jj, when the vibration of your phone in your hand distracts you. the name on the screen makes your stomach flip, and you bite down on your bottom lip, fighting to keep a smile from slipping out where your friends could see.

kook devil: wya?

you: beach kickback on the cut

kook devil: omw

this time, the smile wins. you glance down at the screen, the corners of your lips tugging upward despite yourself. it wasn’t the first time rafe cameron had texted you late at night, asking where you were. but no one else knew that. and you weren’t about to admit it to anyone—especially not to your friends.

friends who hated kooks with a passion. and everything, and everyone, that came with them.

“what are you smiling at?” sarah asks, her voice light but laced with curiosity, as she and john b stroll over, his arm draped casually over her shoulders. her amused grin only makes you more nervous.

you lock your phone instantly, still smiling but scrambling for an excuse. “my package just got delivered,” you say quickly, trying to sound nonchalant.

sarah hums in response, the suspicion in her tone subtle but enough to make your stomach tighten. you don’t notice, too busy avoiding eye contact and silently thanking the chaos that erupts when jj and pope start arguing about something ridiculous, as usual.

you knew what you were doing was wrong. so wrong, especially to sarah. if she ever found out you and rafe were hooking up behind everyone’s backs, she’d lose it. they all would. and not just because he’s a kook.

it’s because he’s rafe fucking cameron.

it was kind of a blur how it all started with rafe. you remember being at a party—not sure if it was here on the beach or in figure 8—but of course, he was there, lingering in the crowd. all night, his eyes kept finding yours, holding your gaze just a little too long.

a couple of tequila shots later, you found yourself in his truck, attempting to ride him as he fucked you senseless, leaving you a trembling mess of moans and breathless curses.

ever since that night, you’d fallen into a rhythm—friends with benefits, if you could even call it that. except you weren’t friends. not even close.

you and rafe both knew the deal—just sex, no strings attached. it was made clear the second time you hooked up. after somehow getting your number, rafe texted you at 1 a.m. asking to meet. if it had been anyone else, you would’ve said no without a second thought. but rafe cameron always gets what he wants.

afterward, it was rafe who spelled it out: just sex, nothing more. and you agreed, even though the words stung more than you cared to admit. you told yourself you were fine with it, hoping that maybe, just maybe, if you played along long enough, he’d change his mind.

except he hasn’t.

and what really reeled you in was just the other day, you spotted him on the golf course with stacy thornton, topper’s cousin of all people. and of course he knew you’d see him—you work the country club as a bev girl. how could you not?

still, you swallowed the lump in your throat, pretending not to care even as your chest tightened. you quietly asked a coworker to handle his table, murmuring something about being swamped, and then buried yourself in busywork to avoid the sting of watching him laugh with her.

since that day, he hasn’t called or texted. not a word. until tonight.

because surely, stacy was busy.

“yo, y/n! come shotgun a beer with us!” kie and sarah call out, snapping you out of your thoughts. you force a small smile, pushing everything about rafe to the back of your mind as you stand up from the driftwood branch you’d been perched on. joining your girls, you grab a beer and do your best to play along.

as the night rolls on, the beach fills up with more people—kooks, pogues, and everyone in between. the music gets louder, and the air becomes a chaotic mix of laughter, shouting, and waves crashing in the background. drunk teenagers stagger through the sand, passing bottles and shots around, but so far, there haven’t been any issues. yet.

but you know how these nights go. when kooks and pogues show up to the same party, trouble is inevitable. it’s only a matter of time before someone says or does something to spark it. like clockwork.

bright headlights pierce through the darkness, momentarily blinding you as a familiar truck pulls onto the beach. your stomach tightens at the sight, but you force yourself to stay calm, laughing along with your friends as if you hadn’t noticed. even as the kooks around you start murmuring and shouting, announcing rafe’s arrival, you keep your eyes anywhere but on him.

your gaze flicks to sarah, catching the way her jaw tightens when she sees her older brother greeting her old friends with effortless charm. the tension is palpable. it’s no secret that sarah and rafe are far from good terms, and the thought of what she’d do if she ever found out about you and him is enough to make your chest ache. she’d hate you—no question about it.

and you didn’t want that. not now, not ever. so tonight, with enough liquid courage coursing through your veins, you’d finally do it. you’d end whatever this thing was with rafe. it was time. it had to be.

“hey, sweetheart,” jj slurs, suddenly draping an arm over your shoulders, his familiar, lopsided grin plastered across his face. the smell of alcohol lingers on his breath, and you can’t help but laugh. drunk jj was always clingy and affectionate, a far cry from his usual chaotic self.

“how are you? you good?” he asks, his voice softer than usual, his blue eyes lazily scanning your face for any hint of something wrong.

you nod, patting his knee where it rests against yours. “i’m fine, jay. what about you? having fun?”

he grins wider, squeezing your shoulder as if to reassure you. “always. especially now that you’re here.” his words are lighthearted, but his presence, warm and grounding, makes the knot in your stomach ease just a little.

“don’t start something you can’t finish, maybank,” you tease, your tone playful, something that’s always been a part of your dynamic with jj. it was harmless, never anything more than friendly banter. jj was like a brother to you, and you both knew it.

his smirk widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “oh, i always finish what i start,” he shoots back, his voice dripping with mock confidence. the comment makes heat rise to your cheeks despite yourself, and you nudge his side with a laugh.

“relax, jj,” you say, still grinning, but he just laughs along with you, clearly enjoying your reaction.

then his tone drops, more conspiratorial now, as he leans in closer. “can i tell you a secret?” he slurs, his voice low and exaggeratedly serious.

you play along, tilting your head toward him as he cups a hand over his mouth like he’s sharing classified information. “i’m so drunk right now,” he whispers dramatically.

a laugh bursts out of you, louder than you intended, as you push him off of you. “no shit, jay,” you say through your giggles, watching him sway slightly before laughing along with you. moments like these made everything feel lighter, even with the weight of everything else hanging in the air.

suddenly, the laughter dies in your throat as a familiar voice cuts through the noise, instantly tightening the tension in your shoulders. “i wanna laugh too,” rafe drawls, his tone sharp and laced with something dangerous.

your head snaps up, and sure enough, there he is, standing a few feet away with his hands casually stuffed into his pockets. but his stare is locked on you, unwavering, intense. your stomach churns as you quickly look away, pretending not to notice.

“what are you doing here, rafe?” sarah asks, her voice cold as ice, glaring at her brother like she wanted him gone before he could stir up trouble.

he shrugs nonchalantly, though the slight clench in his jaw betrays his calm demeanor. “well, last time i checked, you don’t own the beach, sarah,” he retorts, his tone sharp enough to cut. the sunset casts a fiery glow on his face, highlighting the tension in his features. he’s angry—at what, you don’t know, but it’s obvious.

sarah opens her mouth to snap back, but before she can, jj suddenly stands to his feet, his drunken bravado kicking in full force. “what’s your problem, man?” he slurs, his voice rising as he steps forward, shoulders squared like he’s ready to fight.

your heart pounds in your chest as the energy shifts sharply, the tension coiling tighter with every second. it’s like the whole beach can feel it, the calm before the inevitable storm. you glance around nervously, noticing the kooks starting to make their way over, drawn by the brewing conflict like moths to a flame.

what had been your comfortable little corner with your friends now feels suffocating as more and more people gather, the divide between kooks and pogues growing thicker with every step they take. rafe doesn’t move, his stance unbothered but his eyes flickering with something unreadable as they dart between jj and you.

you can hear your friends muttering behind you, tension spreading like wildfire. this wasn’t going to end well—you could feel it in your bones.

john b, ever the peacekeeper, steps in with a steady hand on jj’s shoulder, giving it a calming squeeze. “hey, bro, take a walk,” he says softly, his tone measured, trying to de-escalate before things spiral further.

but jj shakes his head, his expression twisting with frustration. “nah, nah, nah,” he says, shrugging john b’s hand off. his voice is louder now, sharp and angry, fueled by alcohol and pent-up resentment. “i’m so tired of these fuck-ass kooks ruining our fun. everything was fine before they got here.”

he turns to rafe, his eyes blazing with defiance. “so answer the damn question, rafe. what the fuck is your problem?”

the words hang in the air, cutting through the murmur of onlookers as more kooks and pogues close in around you, their postures rigid and ready for whatever’s about to unfold. the tension is suffocating, thick enough to choke on. your stomach twists as you glance between jj, who’s practically vibrating with anger, and rafe, whose jaw is locked, his eyes dark and unreadable.

rafe suddenly lets out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. he swipes a finger under his nose, his signature tell that trouble is coming. before anyone can react, he steps forward and throws a punch, his fist connecting squarely with jj’s jaw.

the sound of the hit echoes over the beach, silencing the chatter and gasps from the growing crowd. jj stumbles back, catching himself before falling, his hand flying up to his face as he spits blood into the sand.

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” john b mutters, stepping between them instinctively, trying to keep jj from lunging forward. but jj’s already shaking with rage, shoving john b aside as the crowd erupts around you.

the once calm beach party turns chaotic, the tension finally snapping into chaos, and you’re frozen in the middle of it all, unsure of what to do as your heart pounds in your chest.

mayhem erupts around you as everyone starts shouting, the noise almost deafening. jj and rafe are swinging at each other, fists flying with raw anger. john b and topper try to break it up, but their own simmering tensions (sarah cameron) boil over, and soon enough, they’re throwing punches at each other too.

“alright! alright!” you, sarah, and kie yell, your voices cutting through the chaos as you rush in, desperately trying to pull the four boys apart. it’s a mess of flailing arms, insults, and drunken fury, but with the help of the other pogues and even a few kooks who seem equally tired of the drama, you finally manage to separate them.

jj stands a few feet away now, chest heaving as he wipes blood from his lip, glaring daggers at rafe. rafe, meanwhile, is being restrained by two kooks, his jaw tight and his eyes locked on jj like he’s ready to go again at any second. john b and topper aren’t much better, breathing heavily and throwing venomous insults back and forth as they’re held apart.

you step back, your heart still racing as the crowd buzzes with murmurs and tension, the air thick and electric. this was far from over, and you could feel it.

“yeah, stay the fuck off our side of the island!” jj yells, his voice sharp and unwavering as the kooks start retreating. rafe lingers, of course, making direct eye contact with you. his gaze burns, but you glare right back, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. whatever you needed to say to him was definitely happening tonight after the shit he just pulled.

“take jj to the chateau. i think there’s a first aid kit in the bathroom,” john b instructs kie and pope, his tone calm but firm. they nod, each grabbing one of jj’s arms to help guide him away. jj, still riled up, mutters under his breath about how much of a pussy rafe is, his words slurring slightly from the drinks and adrenaline.

sarah walks over to you, concern etched across her face. “hey, you okay?” she asks gently. her voice is soft, but the sincerity in her eyes almost undoes you. you nod quickly, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over.

“yeah, i’m fine. just anxious,” you respond, your voice steady enough to sound convincing. it’s not entirely a lie, but it’s far from the whole truth. sarah offers you a small, understanding smile, her hand rubbing your arm soothingly.

“coming?” she asks, gesturing toward john b, who’s waiting for her a few feet away.

“i think i’m just gonna head home,” you say, your voice a little rushed. “my mom texted—she got off work early, so…” you let the excuse hang in the air, hoping it’s enough.

sarah nods slowly, her eyes flickering with a mix of understanding and suspicion. “john b and i can walk you,” she offers.

“no, it’s okay. i kinda need a moment,” you reply quickly, your voice firmer this time. you hold your breath as her gaze lingers on you, studying you for a beat too long. but thankfully, she doesn’t press it.

“okay, babe,” she says finally, her concern softening into a warm smile. “let me know when you get home, yeah?”

you nod, watching as she walks back toward john b, the two of them eventually disappearing into the growing shadows. only when they’re far enough away do you exhale, the weight of the night pressing heavy on your chest.

with one last glance at the party starting to settle back down, you turn and walk in the opposite direction, knowing exactly where you’re going—and who you’re going to face.

you make your way over to the truck, its headlights dim now but still parked exactly where he left it. crossing your arms over your chest, you lean against the back door of the truck, waiting. it’s quiet here, tucked away from the rest of the beach where no one can see you.

the sound of approaching footsteps pulls your attention, and there he is. rafe cameron, calm and collected as ever, despite the chaos he caused. he’s holding a red solo cup against his cheekbone, the faintest shadow of a bruise forming. but even so, you have to admit—he doesn’t look nearly as bad as jj does. of course he doesn’t.

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you say anything. the tension between you is thicker than ever, the air heavy with unspoken words. you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you came here to do.

“i can’t see you anymore, rafe,” you say, finally breaking the silence. your voice is firm, but you can feel the ache behind the words, threatening to betray you.

rafe doesn’t move. instead, a small, almost smug smile quirks at the corner of his lips. “get in the truck,” he says, his tone low and even, like it’s not up for debate.

your brows knit together, your frustration bubbling up. did he not hear you? or worse, did he just not care? “no, rafe,” you snap, shaking your head. “what you did today—” you pause, letting out a sharp sigh as the memories replay in your mind. your gaze shifts over his shoulder to the road, watching cars pass by, their headlights a welcome distraction. “you hurt my friends,” you continue, your voice quieter now but still steady. “i care a lot about my friends. and that shit you pulled back there?” you point toward the spot on the beach where the chaos unfolded, the tension still lingering in the air. “wasn’t cool.”

rafe follows your gesture with a glance, his expression unreadable. but when his eyes flick back to you, there’s something in them—something dangerous, something unshaken. he doesn’t respond, just waits, like he knows you’re not finished yet.

“why would you do that?” your voice cracks despite your best effort to keep it steady. the words hang heavy in the air, and you curse softly under your breath, furious with yourself for letting your emotions bubble over. you promised you wouldn’t let him see you like this—wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. but now, the tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill.

rafe’s face doesn’t change, his jaw tight but his expression otherwise calm, almost detached. it’s like he’s weighing his words, deciding what to say—or if he’ll even bother answering at all. the silence feels suffocating, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on your chest.

“are you fucking him?” rafe finally speaks, his voice low and steady, but the accusation behind the words hits you like a slap. you stare at him, wide-eyed, like he’s just grown three heads.

a laugh of disbelief escapes you as you shake your head, running a hand through your hair to keep yourself from losing it. “are you serious right now?” you ask, your voice teetering between anger and shock.

“are you?” he presses, his tone sharper this time, his eyes locked on yours, unrelenting.

“oh my god,” you mutter, another laugh bubbling out, this one laced with frustration. “is that why you did that? you think i’ve been fucking one of my best friends? are you shitting me, rafe?” you shake your head again, the absurdity of the accusation almost too much to handle.

he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down, his gaze still burning into yours like he’s waiting for you to crack. but you don’t—at least, not yet.

“well, since we’re just accusing each other of shit now,” you say, your voice sharp as a knife, “how’s stacy doing?” your eyes flicker between his, and just like you predicted, his confidence falters. there’s a moment—a flicker—where his gaze drops, and you pounce. “i assume she was busy tonight, right? that why you texted me?”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” rafe snaps, his chest rising and falling heavily as he steps closer, his frustration spilling over.

“oh, don’t give me that shit, rafe,” you fire back, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. your eyes dart away from his, landing anywhere but on him. “i saw you at the country club,” you continue, your voice cold, the memory still fresh.

his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything, and the silence only fuels your anger. “and even then,” you add, spinning back to face him, your words cutting like glass, “what if i am fucking jj? what is it to you? you’re the one who said no strings attached, right?”

you see the way his nostrils flare, his jaw clenching so tightly you think it might snap. his eyes darken, and you know exactly what he’s thinking—the thought of jj seeing you the way rafe has, touching you, hearing the sounds you make. it’s killing him. but he won’t say it. not out loud.

“you’re mad, rafe,” you say, your voice quieter now but still firm. “but you don’t get to be. not after the rules you set.”

you push past him, deciding you were done—done with the accusations, the games, all of it. but, of course, you don’t get far. rafe’s hand closes firmly around your wrist, yanking you back toward him with enough force that you stumble. before you can steady yourself, you collide with his chest, the hard press of muscle against you taking your breath away.

his lips crash against yours without warning, rough and demanding, pulling a shocked gasp from your lips. the intensity of it sends a jolt through you, but it’s not enough to freeze you in place. your fists fly up, pushing hard against his chest, trying to shove him off.

“rafe,” you manage, your voice muffled against his lips, but it’s like he doesn’t even hear you. instead, your resistance only seems to fuel him, his free hand sliding up to wrap around your neck, not too tight, but firm enough to hold you there.

his lips move hungrily against yours, his breath hot, his grip unwavering. you can feel the frustration, the anger, and something else tangled in the way he kisses you—something you can’t name, something overwhelming. your heart races, torn between wanting to fight and the way your body reacts instinctively to his touch.

you hated it. hated how easily your body betrayed you, handing itself over to him without a second thought. and the worst part? rafe knew it too. he always did.

he used it to his advantage every time, just like now. the second your resistance began to falter, the tension in your fists loosening as your body instinctively softened against his, that familiar smug smile tugged at the corners of his lips. he could feel it—the way your resolve was slipping, the way the pull between you was overtaking every logical thought in your mind.

the familiarity of him started to seep through, clouding the anger that had burned so brightly just moments ago. rafe’s grip on your neck relaxed slightly, his fingers brushing your skin like he had all the time in the world, as if he wasn’t the reason you’d wanted to end this in the first place.

and god, you hated him for it. but you hated yourself even more. no matter how much you told yourself to walk away, to end it, your body always seemed to betray you the moment his hands were on you.

before you even realized what was happening, you were in the back seat of rafe’s truck, straddling his lap. his hands gripped your hips with bruising force, guiding your movements as you instinctively rolled against him. the friction of his hardened, clothed cock pressing against you sent shivers up your spine, a traitorous whimper slipping past your lips.

his breath was hot against your neck, his lips brushing your skin as he let out a low groan of satisfaction. you hated how easily he got to you, how the anger you felt just moments ago melted into something entirely different. but no matter how much you wanted to stop, your body moved on its own, craving the familiarity of him, the intensity only he could give you.

his hands move from gripping your hips to trailing up your back, his fingers deftly finding the string of your bikini top. with a quick tug, the knot unravels, and the fabric falls between you, exposing your chest to the cool night air. the intimate sound of your breathing mixes with the muffled noise of the distant beach party, but all you can focus on is him.

rafe wastes no time, leaning in to pepper kisses across your chest. each press of his lips ignites a trail of goosebumps on your skin, the sensation making you arch closer to him. his mouth finds one of your hardened nipples, pulling it into his mouth as his hand cups the other, his fingers teasing and rolling with practiced precision.

a moan slips from your lips, filling the still air around you. rafe hums in satisfaction, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive skin. his grip on you tightens as he continues, clearly intent on drawing every reaction out of you that he can.

“fuck, i missed you,” he breathes, his voice low and ragged as he pulls back just enough to let the words slip past his lips. before you can even process them, his mouth is back on you, his lips and tongue working their way across your skin, pulling a broken whimper from your throat.

you shake your head weakly, your fingers gripping his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. “no, you didn’t,” you whisper, your voice trembling, the words more of a desperate plea than an accusation.

rafe pauses, his lips hovering over your collarbone. his hands tighten their hold on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he meets your gaze, his blue eyes blown out. “yes, i did,” he mutters, his tone firm, almost defensive, before dipping his head back down to kiss you again, as if he could erase the doubt you so clearly feel.

with one hand, he makes quick work of the button on your shorts, pulling them down just enough to give himself better access. his hand slips past the waistband of your bikini bottoms, his fingers brushing against your heated skin. the low groan that escapes his lips when he feels how soaked you are sends a jolt of heat straight through you.

“not surprising,” he mutters against your lips, his voice thick with smug satisfaction.

you gasp, your head falling back slightly as his fingers glide through your folds, gathering your arousal before starting slow, deliberate circles against your clit. the sensation sparks through you, making your hips instinctively rock against his hand, chasing the friction.

rafe’s smirk deepens as he watches you, his free hand gripping your waist tighter to keep you steady. “that’s it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, dripping with control. “just like that.”

a moan escapes your lips when his fingers pick up their pace, his breathing becoming heavier against your neck. “think that pogue could get you to cum like i can, huh?” he taunts, his words cutting through the haze of pleasure. before you can respond, his fingers dip into your entrance, filling you to where you feel the cold metal ring wrapped around his finger, while his thumb presses firmly against your clit. the double stimulation sends a shockwave through you, your hands fisting his shirt as you struggle to stifle the moans threatening to spill out.

you bite down hard on your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction he craves, but it’s so hard—he knows your body too well.

“i know he can,” you finally manage to retort, your voice breathless but defiant. the second the words leave your mouth, you see it—the flicker of rage that darkens his eyes. his movements grow rougher, more deliberate, as if he’s determined to make you eat your words.

you sob out a moan, your body trembling as his pace remains relentless, refusing to give you even a second to catch your breath. “the fuck he can,” he growls, his voice low and feral, watching with a smug satisfaction as you struggle to keep yourself upright. his smirk deepens as he leans in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, all teeth and desperation, swallowing your broken cries.

your hands cling to his shoulders as waves of pleasure crash through you, your body arching into his touch. his fingers work you expertly, his movements precise and unyielding as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, your breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

“c’mon, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and dripping with desperation. “let me hear you.” his words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel yourself teetering on the brink, unable to hold back any longer.

you feel yourself start to convulse around his fingers, your body trembling as a broken cry tears from your lips. the waves of your orgasm crash over you, leaving you breathless and weak. rafe keeps going, his fingers guiding you through every pulse of pleasure, not stopping until your body begins to twitch with hints of overstimulation. but there’s no tenderness in it—not that you deserved any, not after what you said.

your earlier comment still burned in his mind, fueling a fire in his chest, the thought of you with jj maybank making him see red. it wasn’t about trust—it was about possession, and rafe couldn’t stand the idea of someone else touching what he considered his.

without warning, he grabs your waist and flips you around, pressing your head against the leather seat, your ass in the air. your shorts and bikini bottoms are gone in one swift motion, leaving you completely exposed. you barely have time to react before you hear the sound of his zipper, his own clothes hitting the floor of the truck in a mess.

“you wanna talk about jj?” he growls, his voice low and dripping with frustration as he positions himself at your entrance, the heat of him pressing against you. “let’s see if you’re still thinking about him when I’m done with you.”

before you can process his words, he thrusts into you without warning, burying himself to the hilt in one swift, punishing motion. the stretch is overwhelming, a cry slipping from your lips, quickly muffled as you press your face into the seat.

rafe doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, setting a relentless, eye-rolling pace that has your body jolting with every thrust. his hands grip your waist tightly, pulling you back to meet each snap of his hips, his frustration evident in the way he moves.

“you feel that?” he mutters, his voice rough and breathless as he leans over you, his chest grazing your back. “that’s all me. no one else, you hear me?” his words mix with the sound of skin against skin, every syllable driving him deeper, leaving you a trembling mess beneath him.

you nod dumbly, unable to form words as your body reacts to his every movement. a gasp tears from your lips when his arm snakes around your neck, pulling you upright slightly and holding you firmly in place. the pressure makes your head spin, amplifying every sensation coursing through your body.

the truck fills with the obscene sounds of wet slaps and desperate moans, each one louder than the last. your cries mix with rafe’s rough groans, the intensity between you reaching a fever pitch. you briefly thank your lucky stars that his truck has fully blacked-out windows, shielding this mess of tangled limbs and raw need from prying eyes.

rafe moans in your ear, his voice thick with possession, his breath hot against your skin. “all mine. no one else gets to have you like this.” his pace never falters, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge again, leaving you gasping and trembling under his control.

just when you think the pleasure is close to consuming you whole, rafe’s fingers snake down between your thighs, finding your clit with infuriating precision. he rubs quick, tight circles, the added sensation pulling a choked cry from your lips as your body jerks in response.

your arm flings back instinctively, your hand finding the back of his neck, clutching onto him desperately as if he’s the only thing keeping you upright. his breath is hot against your ear, ragged and uneven, matching the force of his thrusts.

“fuck, baby,” he groans softly, his voice laced with satisfaction as he feels you trembling against him. “you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

“rafe—“ you moan, your grip on his neck tightening as the overwhelming mix of sensations sends you spiraling, your body teetering on the brink. every snap of his hips, every movement of his fingers, pushes you closer, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as you fight to keep from collapsing back into the seat.

your body trembles uncontrollably as the wave of pleasure crashes over you, your walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip. rafe grunts, his breath ragged and uneven as he feels you squeezing him, the sensation tipping him over the edge.

“shit,” he moans, his voice low and strained, giving one last stuttered thrust before he stills, his release spilling into you. the warmth of him floods your core, the weight of his body pressing against yours as he rides out his high, panting heavily into the crook of your neck.

the air in the truck is thick, the only sounds now the mingling of your heavy breathing and the faint hum of the world outside—so distant it feels like it doesn’t even exist. rafe’s hand loosens its hold on your hip along with the arm around your neck, his thumb lazily brushing your skin as he finally starts to come down.

rafe’s forehead, damp with sweat, rests against your shoulder for a moment as he catches his breath. Slowly, he pulls out of you, leaving you trembling and weak-kneed. Sensing it, he carefully guides you to sit on the seat, his touch surprisingly gentle now, as if trying not to shatter the fragile silence between you.

but it doesn’t last long. the haze starts to lift, post-sex clarity hitting you like a wave. your heart pounds—not from pleasure anymore, but from the weight of everything that just happened. you don’t look at him, don’t say a word. instead, you scramble off the seat, your eyes scanning the floor of the truck as you rush to gather your clothes. the humid air clings to your skin, suffocating you, making it feel like the walls of the truck are closing in.

“y/n,” rafe starts, his voice softer now, but you don’t respond, just shake your head. You tug your shorts on with shaky hands, your bikini top still tangled in your grasp as you turn your back to him, your only thought being how fast you can get out of this damn truck.

as soon as you adjust your bikini top, you’re scrambling for the door handle, slipping out of the truck as quickly as you can. the door slams shut behind you with a loud thud, cutting off the heavy silence inside. rafe’s voice calls after you, his tone somewhere between frustration and confusion, but you don’t look back. you don’t even slow down.

his words echo faintly in the humid night air as you trudge across the sand, but you block them out, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

you hated yourself in this moment—really hated yourself. how could you be so weak? jj was probably back at the chateau right now, an ice pack pressed to his bruised face, joking it off like he always did. meanwhile, you were here, tangled up with the very person responsible for putting him there.

it made your stomach twist. you felt pathetic.

the guilt gnawed at you, making every step away from that truck feel heavier, like you were sinking further into something you didn’t know how to escape. you wrap your arms around yourself, the night air cold against your skin, and silently vow—never again.

as you step into your home, the soft glow of the television catches your eye. your mom is asleep on the couch, the faint sound of some late-night show playing in the background. you pause, the sight of her peaceful face tugging at something inside you. quietly, you grab the nearest blanket and drape it over her, tucking it gently around her frame before turning off the TV.

you make your way to your room, your body heavy with exhaustion. pulling out your phone, the screen lights up with countless missed calls and texts—all from him. rafe’s name stares back at you, the words call me back and where did you go? flashing among the messages. with a sigh, you open the contact and quickly silence his notifications. blocking him would feel too final, too harsh, and you know it wouldn’t stop him anyway. rafe knew where to find you—where you lived, where you spent your time, even your favorite food spot. blocking him would only provoke him further.

you drop your phone on the bed and head straight for the bathroom, turning the shower dial as cold as it would go. the icy water hits your skin like needles, but you welcome it, hoping it’ll wash away everything—his touch, his words, the feeling of his hands on your body.

but no matter how long you stand there, no matter how hard you scrub, the memories resurface, unrelenting. the way he looked at you. the sound of his voice. the pull he always had on you. you press your forehead against the cool tile, biting back the emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

how did it get this far?

the muffled vibration of your phone stirs you from sleep, the name sarah 🐚 lighting up the screen. groaning, you fumble for the phone and press it to your ear, voice still thick with sleep. “hell—”

“is it true?” sarah’s voice crackles through the static, sharp and tense, jolting you fully awake. your eyes shoot open, the confusion and dread hitting you all at once.

“sarah, what—” you begin, but she doesn’t let you finish.

“got it,” she says curtly, and before you can protest, the line goes dead.

you pull the phone away from your ear, staring at the dark screen as if it could offer you answers. confusion twists in your chest, but then you see it—a new message notification from her.

your hands tremble slightly as you unlock your phone and click the message. the screen shifts to a video file, sent from an anonymous number. you hesitate, the dread creeping up your spine like ice, but you press play.

the blood drains from your face as the video begins. it’s you—you and rafe. the footage is grainy, but it’s unmistakable. you see yourself pressed against the back door of his truck, his hands gripping you as you melt into the heated kiss. the angle shifts slightly, shaky and invasive, capturing the moment he pushes you inside the truck. and then—cut.

the video ends abruptly, leaving you staring at the black screen, your heart racing so hard you can feel it in your throat. you drop the phone onto your bed, your blood running cold as the weight of it crashes over you.

someone had seen. someone knew. and now sarah did too.

© aerialmirrorss

[warlockslovetomeow]

time flies...

when captain jenna assigns you to infiltrate an intel hub disguised as a jazz club in the N109 zone, you make one simple request to the universe: don’t let me run into my ex. that prayer goes unanswered. but others? you might just get lucky.

pairing: exbf!sylus x female reader warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, porn w plot, porn w feelings, exes w unresolved tension, possessive behavior / mild jealousy, loooots of banter, thigh rubbing build up, dirty talk, like filthy, bratty!mc, sylus wants you so bad, walk him like a dog sis, oral (m & f), eating from the back, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, mating press, cumming inside a/n: wrote this with one hand!!!!! i need this man so bad!!!!!!!! wc: 5.9k

"....located in the N109 zone. any questions?"

and then she shot you. captain jenna—your fierce and until approximately five seconds ago, loyally trusted commander—had just fired her pistol at you within point-blank range.

you swallowed the bullet lodged in your throat before responding, reaching deep within yourself to appear as neutral as possible.

"no, captain!"

damn it all. of course your previous experience in the N109 zone would put you at the top of the list for this mission. unknown to your captain though, you'd rather chew on knives than risk a chance encounter with your ex boyfriend.

but since the intel she's assigned you to look into involves a new strain of protocore tech that mimics wanderer signatures, making it nearly undetectable and dangerous for all factions, it was high priority. and unfortunately for you, the same thought was likely running through his mind.

it'd been months since your messy breakup, months since you've spoken to each other. he wouldn't dare try anything again, especially in a compromised place like a covert jazz club.

when it came to sylus, however, you knew better.

you run through the briefing details once more in your head. this intel hub operates like most others in the N109 zone: secretive and precise. a surefire way to get yourself killed in places like these is by looking confused or unsure.

your orders are to tell the bouncer you're searching for a man wearing green inside, the color being code for the information category. according to association intel, green signifies everything related to protocores. once inside, you're to head to the bar and order an emerald isle, the contents being a gin and mint martini. the mint serving as a tip-off that you're looking for fresh, new information.

from there, you're basically on your own. the guise of a jazz club is intentional, patrons are to fraternize with their drinks visible in hand, searching for people with similar colored ones. once you find someone, you relay what drink you ordered, and if they have information on such a topic, they'll take a sip from your drink.

the catch? no refills allowed. if the person has irrelevant information, you've wasted part of your opportunity.

you saunter up to the entrance of the club, your black maxi dress shaping your body perfectly and almost causing you to disappear into the low lighting, exactly as planned. if the situation were to get threatening, your dress wouldn't be a risk.

however, this mission required you to look enticing while eyes were on you. the low, fishtail back and thin straps were sure to prompt onlookers to approach you and chat. you'd keep them in line, if not with words then with your loaded gun strapped firmly to your thigh.

you smile sweetly at the bouncer, saying everything required and getting inside without breaking a sweat. the club is busy, but not overwhelmingly so. you do a full room scan and mentally note that there are around 8 people with green drinks in hand—all at different levels of fullness. after you order the emerald isle, you make your way to the floor.

time to hunt.

the moment you walked in, sylus choked on his drink.

of course you'd be the one sent here. of course the same woman who hadn’t so much as looked at him in months would stroll back into his life with a drink coded for protocore intel.

the very thing that blew everything apart.

you hadn’t changed a bit. still walked like you owned the room. still wore danger like perfume. and those straps clinging to your body? a challenge written in silk. that dress wasn’t for him, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but wonder if some part of you knew he’d be here. if some part of you wanted him to look.

hell, he was looking. couldn’t stop, actually.

he leaned back in his seat on the second-floor balcony, his eyes locked on your every move through the dim haze and low lights. moments ago, he’d been halfway through a trade with the scrawny male seated across from him. but now, the man might as well be invisible. sylus couldn’t care less about anything that didn’t involve looking at you.

he watched you flash that fake, pretty smile—the one you wore while you were on missions. no one else would know the difference. but he did.

when he saw the color of your drink, he almost laughed. no doubt you were here for information surrounding the new wanderer mimicking tech. the irony twisted like a blade between his ribs.

you hated him for hiding his connections to protocore manufacturing. said it was betrayal. said you couldn't trust someone who kept secrets like that. but you never saw the full picture. he was protecting you from yourself.

you didn’t understand, maybe you still don't, but he hadn’t been lying to hurt you. he knew what getting you involved would cost. he knew you, and the second you found out the truth about what exactly onychinus was sponsoring, it'd drag you into the depths of the mystery surrounding your aether core. he knew you wouldn't be able to stop pursuing it all, no matter what it did to you.

and now, here you were. wading waist-deep into the same fire he lost you to.

sylus clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around his glass. he should look away. should let you do what you came here to do.

but then some lowlife in a tacky rust-colored suit slithered up to you, requesting a dance. he was too close. acted too familiar. sylus watched your smile shift into something tight and forced. the kind you used when you were baiting someone.

no.

he wasn’t going to just sit back. not when you were back in his orbit, whether you meant to be or not. and not when he still wanted you just as badly as the day you walked away.

this had to be some sort of punishment. you must’ve pissed off the universe in a past life to end up pressed against a man wearing the ugliest rust-colored suit known to mankind. he smelled like sweat masked with cheap cologne. every inch of him screamed sleaze. yet, here you were, letting him touch you. because, of course, the filthiest bastard in the room had the most valuable intel so far. and with your drink nearly empty, you couldn’t afford to cut the dance short.

his grimy left hand rested on your waist—drifting lower with each passing second—while his other clung to his green drink like he planned to propose to it before the night was over.

"...only sold to the 1%, then trickling downwards to whoever can afford those prices. say darling, you oughta come home with me tonight. there's a lot more i can tell ya, you know, in private." his voice dripped like oil, and as he leaned in to whisper the last part, his fingers slid beneath the open hem of your back.

you resisted the overwhelming urge to pull out your pistol and really show him something private.

instead, you forced a breath and put on a tight smile. a smile that was nowhere near reaching your eyes, barely a curl on your lips. then you steered him back to the reason you were even still breathing the same air. “who are they buying from? is there no logo? no trace of manufacturing?”

“not a thing,” he said, grinning like he thought he was clever. “but I did hear some old abandoned buildings around the N109 zone have been lighting up lately. enough space to test high risk tech in those.”

you could barely hold back your eye roll. the way he spoke, like you owed him something just for opening his mouth, grated on every nerve in your body. and he looked at you like he planned to collect on that imagined debt in full.

“where’s the closest one?” your tone had a sharp edge now. his fingers kept wandering, and your patience was running thin. you needed this conversation over. and this man dead.

"hmm? not far from here. i'd say about—”

he didn’t get to finish.

a tall figure stepped between you and the creep, sliding a hand onto your waist in place of the one you'd been seconds from snapping in half. you didn’t need to look. didn’t need to double check.

you could recognize sylus by touch alone.

“mind if I cut in?” he said smoothly, his voice low and razor-sharp. “this man appears to be more thirsty than classy.”

you sighed. worst timing possible.

"no, thank you. that’s the idea,” you replied coolly, but it didn’t matter.

sylus had already made his move. the shorter man stumbled back, face ghost-white, mumbling something that sounded like an apology—or maybe a prayer—before scurrying off as if sylus had just rearranged his face with a look alone.

then, he turned to you.

he didn’t speak at first, only stared. like he couldn’t breathe, like he couldn’t believe you were real. his gaze swept over you, slow and starving, as if he were trying to memorize every inch before you vanished again. not a trace of a smirk, just a man who’d been sucker punched by the sight of you.

but eventually, sylus flipped the mental switch. he stepped closer, hand outstretched, voice as smooth as sin, "this place was dangerous before you walked in. now, it doesn’t stand a chance.”

you stared at him, unblinking, letting the silence hang just long enough to make your point. the theatrics didn’t impress you, but the corner of your mouth twitched anyway, a reflex you hated. with another sigh you stepped forward, your hand sliding into his like muscle memory.

before you could get a word in, sylus reached for the drink still in your hand. his fingers brushed yours, unhurried and deliberate, as he took it from you without asking to silently relieve the burden.

his other hand found your waist and you let yours rest on his shoulders, the familiar feel of him under your fingertips sending a shiver through you.

it was dangerous how easy it was. how quickly your steps matched the rhythm. how naturally your body leaned into his, like the time apart had never happened. the jazz music swelled around you and you both moved with it like something practiced in another life.

then his mouth was near your ear, voice dipping low as the air between you tightened. “careful. you dance like someone who remembers exactly how I feel.”

“i dance like someone who can’t wait for this song to end," you shot back, your tone sharp enough to cut.

"no," he said, like he knew something you didn't. "you dance like someone pretending the space between us isn't pulling you in.” 

a tense beat passed.

"poetic. a bit too drab for my taste, unfortunately."

“you used to like the way I spoke when it was your name in my mouth.” his voice danced down your spine like a dirty promise, hot enough to make your stomach twist.

you hated it. hated that he still had this hold on you. that months later, you still reacted.

you bit back, voice steady and full of edge. “and you used to listen when I said no.” 

“you never said no when it was just the two of us.”

his tone was so unbothered, so undeniably sylus. you hated how your chest ached at that. you'd buried that version of you with him a long time ago. or at least you thought you had.

you glared at him, trying to telepathically communicate how badly you wanted him to burn.

the song then faded into a slower, darker tune. like even the music knew how deadly this was becoming.

you stepped back, but only a hair. not enough to give him the satisfaction. just enough to remind yourself you still could.

his gaze followed the retreat like it hurt him to let you go. “how did you find out about this hub? did you come alone?”

you didn’t answer. instead, you turned from him. a clean, intentional break. you were done letting him circle you like he still had the right.

but his fingers caught your wrist before you could fully disappear from him again, placing your hand back on his shoulder.

“an emerald isle,” he murmured. “what intel are you here for?”

you looked him dead in the eyes, annoyance painting your features. “sooo many questions. do you always get this chatty when you're trying not to look desperate?"

god, he missed you. missed when you got like this with him. he loved nothing more than when you challenged him, rough and biting.

“just concerned, sweetie. especially if what you know brought you here…" his smile curled as he spoke. "…looking like this.”

“that's too bad. you don’t get to play protective anymore. that role expired." your voice came out flat and cold, like you had rehearsed the indifference.

“mmm. but it seems your feelings for me haven’t, kitten.”

“funny. i don’t remember ever admitting I had them.”

“no? then why are your thighs tensing like they remember everything?” 

your breath hitched. not loud, but enough to make you furious with yourself. heat flushed up your throat, mortification and memory colliding in the worst possible way. you hated that he noticed. hated more that he was right. that your body reacted before your mind could catch up.

you didn’t let the silence stretch. couldn’t let it stretch.

"you're in my way."

sylus tilted his head, the smirk on his lips making your blood boil. “and you’re in my thoughts. every day. every night. doesn’t feel fair, does it?”  

“what’s not fair is how your ego somehow survived our breakup.”  you spoke through gritted teeth, still recovering from his last blow.

“you don’t have to say it," he was grinning now—the bastard. "i can feel it.”  

“what, your neediness?”  you practically spit back, the tension between you thick enough to choke on.

“yours, actually. you’re shaking, kitten."

“it’s rage.”  

“mmm. is that what we’re calling want these days?” 

before you could fire off something scathing, sylus wrapped his fingers around your wrist again and this time he pulls. not hard, just enough to close the last of the distance. chest brushing chest, breath mingling in the small space in between your lips.

“you think I don’t know that look in your eyes? that tilt in your hips when you dance near me? you want distance, yet your body keeps inching closer," his voice was low, fever laced into every syllable. "what am I to believe?” 

“i'm working, sylus. this—” you gestured between your bodies, the closeness, the feelings, all of it. “—can’t happen again."

his smirk fades, but not into hurt. into hunger. “then tell me to stop.”

you don't.

his fingers trace the underside of your jaw, measured and daring.

“say it." he murmurs. "say stop.” 

but you don't. you can’t. your lips part, but not for protest. then—

“is there a problem here?” a voice cuts through from behind, snapping the spell. a man steps between you and sylus, eyes flickering between your faces. “doesn’t look like you want to be with him, sweetheart. just say the word.” 

“step back,” sylus says before you can even breathe, his tone icy. possessive. “you’re in her space. that’s the problem.”

the man falters, visibly unsettled by the sharp gleam of red in sylus’ eye. “i’m sure she’d prefer someone who doesn’t drag her around the dance floor.”

sylus smirks at him, deadly calm. “she’s exactly where she wants to be.”

it seems the man recognizes onychinus' leader, because that’s all it takes. the man backs off without another word.

you let the silence settle, pulse still fluttering from both the interruption and everything before it.

“jealousy doesn’t suit you,” you tease, turning your head just enough to draw his eyes back to your mouth.

“neither does watching you pretend you don’t miss me,” he shoots back, matching your quip as he always excelled at doing.

“i don’t.”

he smirks. “liar.”

your voice sharpens. “we’re broken up, sylus. don’t you recall?”  

his gaze doesn’t waver. “i remember everything. your laugh. your skin. the way you used to—”

“don’t,” you cut in, voice like a blade. “you don’t get to say those things anymore.”

he leans in anyway, close enough that you can taste the desire radiating off him.

“then stop looking at me like that.”

“like what?” you hiss.

his mouth curved with mischief and warning. “like you want me to follow you upstairs.” 

you blinked, heart slamming so hard it hurt. and for one breath, you let yourself feel it, all the pain he left behind.

then you swallowed it whole, and drowned in him.

as you both slipped out of sight from the crowded dance floor, sylus tugged you closer, kissing you like he’d been starved. your bodies stumbled up the stairs, hands tangled and desperate, a hunger between you that neither could deny. he pressed you against the wall at the top of the stairs, his lips trailing down your neck, each kiss an act of claiming. you felt his eagerness press against you and your head swirled deliciously.

“i can feel how badly you want me,” you taunt, chest rising as you fight for composure. “want me so bad you’d drop to your knees if I told you to, wouldn’t you?”

"you could make me beg for you. and more." he pressed into you, harder now. his body solid against yours as the air became thick with want. “but we both know you want to be the one on your knees." 

you pull off him with a smirk of your own, opening the closest door and leading him inside. “you think you’re the only one who knows how to play this game?”

once you both stepped into the room, you shove sylus back onto the bed. his handsome face tipped up at you from where he landed, eyes cocky and smug despite being beneath you.

"i’m the one who taught you how to play, sweetie.” 

you lock the door behind you with a click, leaving him on the bed to watch every calculated move you made.

you turn to face him. your steps unhurried, hips swaying like a predator with a plan. his gaze devours you as you reach the center of the room and spin your back to him.

the low hem of your dress dips scandalously, held up only by two delicate straps. you slide one down, then the other. the fabric sinks down your body, every inch a show for the man breathing heavier by the second.

the fabric hits the floor and you step out of it and cross the room. sylus sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread like he's trying not to burst at the sight of you.

you drop to your knees before him, fingers ghosting up his thighs.

you undo his belt like it’s second nature, because it is, but this time there's no soft glances or whispered promises. only tension, sweat, and the sharp edge of something darker.

you shift him out of his underwear and he's already leaking, throbbing for you. you pull him out slow, eyes locked on his like a dare. despite taking him plenty of times before, his huge length still intimidated you. and made your mouth water.

then, with his hard cock still in your hands, you tilt your head back and loll your tongue out with a dirty smile.

“fuck,” he breathes, before leaning forward and spitting directly into your open mouth.

you swirl it around with your tongue, exaggerated and filthy, before letting it drip from your lips straight onto the tip of his cock. you stroke him with it, twisting your wrist just right, watching him twitch and strain in your grasp as you spread the mess down him.

sylus manages a breathless smirk. “has our time apart made you dirtier?” his voice is wrecked. “or have you missed me this much?”

you drag your tongue up his length, lingering on his sensitive vein, then pull back with a wet pop. the action drives him wild, and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from groaning.

your eyes gleam with something wicked. “you’re so much more attractive when you’re moaning for me instead of talking.”

your lips part again, this time to take him in painfully slow. you twirl your tongue around his tip, the taste so familiar it makes your eyes roll back. the mix of fluids slick his cock all the way down to the base, your lips shiny and swollen around him.

then you sink lower and he can’t stop staring. can’t stop twitching in your mouth like he’s about to blow from just the sound of your gag. his hips jerk when the tip hits the back of your throat, and you pull off again with a sinful smirk.

“you always get so twitchy when i barely touch you,” you purr, stroking him with lazy precision. “what happened to that control you're so proud of?”

his jaw tightens at your jab, hands gripping the edge of the bed so hard his knuckles go white. while he did enjoy you challenging him, you were working his last nerve.

you lean in once more, smiling with satisfaction at his reaction. your movement light on his aching cock, suckling and teasing, never committing. your hands move unhurried, your mouth even slower, and his whole body is trembling from restraint.

sylus lets out a low, ruined growl. “keep teasing me and you'll regret it, kitten.”

“is that a threat or a promise?” you whisper, licking along the underside of his shaft. “because it sounds a lot like begging to me.”

his hands tremor like he wants to grab you, but you stay in control. for now.

you now take him with vigor, enough to make him moan, then stop. again. and again. always just a little more, never enough. he's throbbing in your grip, leaking like he could cum from this alone.

“fuck,” he mutters. “you’re gonna drive me insane.”

you pout with faux innocence. “what, this?” you give him a long, slow lick, eyes full of mockery. “close already?”

and then he snaps.

in a blur of motion, sylus grabs you by the hair, pulls you up, and throws you onto the bed, flat on your back.

you barely have time to gasp before he's on you, all passion and vengeance. he slides between your thighs, yanking your panties off like they personally committed your aggravating acts.

“you wanna tease?” he snarls, breath hot against your inner thigh. “then fucking take it.”

his mouth hovers just above your dripping cunt, teasing you now. his turn to play. he breathes against your folds, lips barely brushing, just enough to make you whimper.

“what’s wrong, sweetie?” he taunts, voice thick with revenge and lust. “thought you liked going slow.”

you reach down and twist your fingers in his hair, yanking his face into you with a growl of your own.

“eat. or i will ride your face and make you regret waiting.”

sylus keens at your words, tongue diving in like a man starved. he loved when you got rough with him, turning him on like no other.

you moan right back at the feeling of him, legs already starting to shake. there's no more teasing in his movements, he’s messy, frantic, seemingly obsessed. his mouth is somehow everywhere at once, like he’s trying to drown in your taste.

you writhe under him, losing every ounce of control you once held. and he doesn’t stop. not even when your thighs close around his head. not even when you scream his name.

there’s no finesse, just open mouthed hunger, his tongue and lips on a mission to touch every part of you. then he adds two fingers, slipping in deep and curling them just right, hitting that spot you never could on your own. you gush around them, soaking his hand, and he groans like the mess is a gift.

you clutch the sheets below you, the sensation too much and not enough. every time his nose nudges your clit, every hit of his perfectly angled fingers, your body jolts. the bed creaks below you as he pushes you closer and closer to that high you've been chasing for months. but nothing, nothing, ever touched you like this.

your orgasm starts barreling toward you and right when you're on the cusp of mind numbing pleasure—

he slows down.

right as your toes curl and your thighs tense, he pulls back. you whine, strung out and soaked.

you’re about to beg when you notice the bed is still shaking. not just from you.

sylus is grinding against the mattress. hard and desperate.

you let out a breathless, evil little laugh. “you’re humping the bed? i’m the one getting eaten alive, and you’re the one falling apart?”

you should’ve stopped there. you really should’ve.

but you smirk, lift your hips so you can meet his eyes, and whisper, “what, couldn’t wait your turn?”

his face changes at that, deep and pissed, then he grabs your hips and flips you onto all fours like you weigh nothing.

“should’ve filled your throat with cum to shut that mouth,” he hisses into your ear.

before you can reply, his hands are spreading you open and his mouth is back on you. from behind.

his tongue laps at your entrance, filthy and unrelenting, while his fingers sneak down to bully your clit in ruthless circles. your arms give out at the same time as your legs begin to buckle, but he doesn’t let you fall. one strong arm wraps around your waist whilst the other pleasures you without mercy.

you greedily grind your ass into his face and he groans at the action like he wants to live between your thighs. you clench around his tongue, fluids mixing together, and the mess just spurs you on further. spurs him on further. the building liquids slide down your legs, coating his face and all he wants is more.

you’re about to fall apart all over again when he pulls away in one fluid motion.

your body collapses onto the bed, shaking from the sudden change. you roll onto your back, dazed and desperate.

sylus wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, not even trying to be subtle, and spreads your legs wide. his eyes drink in the sight, as if your glistening pussy was some divine offering.

you pout, fingers drifting toward your clit, desperate to finish what he stole. but sylus grabs your wrist, pins it above your head, and lines himself up with you. his neglected cock dripping with precum as he slides it between your folds.

you bite your lip at how heavy and huge he is. the head alone makes your thighs tremble.

then he leans down, mouth right against your ear.

“you’re not cumming,” he murmurs, slow and cruel, “unless it’s on my cock.”

your breath stutters. it’s been months since you took him, months since your body was trained for that stretch. he was so big, it hurt. you swallow hard, pride burning at your own words.

"just… not too fast,” you say, trying to stay steady. “okay?”

he tilts his head, mocking you with that fake-soft voice. “of course, sweetie. whatever you need.”

he kissed your forehead like the lover he once was.

then slammed his full length inside you.

your mouth opens in a silent scream. he’s thick, obscene, and the sudden stretch makes your vision fade out. you claw at his biceps, nails digging in, but he doesn't care.

“you thought that bratty little attitude was gonna earn you favors?” he grits out, voice strained and dark with desire.

he pulls out almost completely, then drives back in deeper. harder.

“be good and take it.”

your mind is reeling, your body even worse. you're clenching around him like a vice, almost trying to force him to slow down. he doesn't.

in fact, he lets go of the hand pinning yours above your head and grabs your hips instead, tilting them up and fucking into you faster. he’d force you to take it. you always liked it rough.

"just needed some dick to shut you up, hmm?" he stated, each word hitting with the rhythm of his thrusts.

you almost choke. he was drilling so deep it felt like he was aiming for your throat. his hand then slid over your stomach and pressed down, and he grinned above you like the smug devil he is when he felt himself moving inside you.

"shut up—nghh—'n fuck me harder." you manage out, your tone not matching the challenge in your voice even slightly.

your body remembered him now. that stretch, that angle. you were soaking him, walls practically begging for him. his cock slipped in and out like he owned it. because he does.

sylus realizes it too, because he leans in, pushing impossibly deeper before gloating in your face. "this pussy missed me. she’s crying for it."

you try to snap something back, something sharp, anything to bite into his smugness. but it dies on your tongue the second his hips grind into yours. his cock drags deep and slow, just once, and your whole body locks up. the stretch is somehow overwhelming and perfect. like you were made for him.

your fingers scramble over his back, clinging to him for stability, but all you can manage is a strangled, “fuck, sylus—”

his rhythm falters, just for a second, but you feel it. his gaze snaps to yours, suddenly serious. his body stills then, cock twitching inside you. it seemed like he was searching for something in you that he was too scared to name.

he leans in once more, but this time not to hit deeper. to look at you, really look. his breath fanned your lips, your cheeks, your throat.

"you missed me too," he says. no question in it.

you want to lie. bite back with something petty and proud. but your pussy clenches around him like it’s answering for you, loud and shameless.

your chest heaves as you stare up at him. your throat aches from holding back all the things you swore you’d never say.

and still, you whisper it.

“yours.”

sylus goes rigid at your confession.

you feel a shudder pass through his entire body. he clenched his jaw while his hands trembled against your waist, grip tightening. then something breaks. he manhandles your thighs up and wide, body looming over yours.

“say it again.” he demands in between guttural grunts. “say you’re mine.”

you wail at the change in position, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes and pleasure twisting in your belly like a storm. “'m yours. fuck—sylus, i’m yours.”

his chest pins your thighs to your torso, folding you nearly in half. the angle makes your head dizzy, an entirely new world of bliss. you’re split open, completely at his mercy, and your cunt pulses around him like it knows it’s where it belongs.

“fucking say it while I ruin you.” his voice cracks, hips pistoning forward again and again. he’s completely unraveling, thrusts messier now, more desperate.

you chant it like a mantra. “yours, yours, yours—”

“look at you,” he grunts, sweat dripping from his jaw onto your chest. “taking me so good now. tight little pussy just needed a reminder.”

his pace is brutal and unrelenting. your thighs shake, pinned wide open, helpless to do anything but feel every inch of him. be filled by him.

his eyes don’t leave yours. there’s hunger there, but you also notice something raw too. that longing feeling you thought only you felt.

sylus dips down, lips brushing yours, and murmurs against your mouth. “you really gonna go back out there like this?”

you blink at him, dazed. “huh?”

“full of me,” he snarls, hitting deep enough to knock the breath from your lungs. “my cum soaking your thighs while you try to finish your mission. think you can keep it in?”

you moan loudly at his filthy words and he grins against your cheek.

“say you want it. say you want me to fill you up.”

you don’t even hesitate.

“yes please! sylus, want it!”

“say it right.” he commands, snapping his hips so hard the bed frame groans. “tell me who you belong to.”

“you! ’m yours—fuck—please cum inside me!”

he loses it.

his grip tightens bruisingly on your hips, dragging you down to meet every savage thrust. the drag of his cock is erratic, his body shuddering above yours.

“gonna fill you up,” he pants, “make you mine all over again—shit!—you’re gonna leak for me, kitten. gonna walk outta here with my cum dripping down your thighs and everyone knowing you let me claim you.”

the possessiveness in his voice sends you spiraling. your pussy clenches tight, fluttering around him like your body’s already begging for it. the tension in your belly coils impossibly tight. every hard, brutal thrust inside you making your vision blur.

“sylus,” you gasp, pitch high and breathless, “close, please—”

“you wanna cum on my cock?” he asked, slamming into you with the full force of his weight. “wanna milk me while I fill this cunt up?”

you nod frantically, tears spilling down your cheeks. “yes, yes! please, wanna cum with you, wanna feel you!”

sylus drops his head to your shoulder, teeth scraping your skin. "go on, then. show me how bad you want me."

and you do.

you shatter with a loud cry, your orgasm hitting like a wave that floods your senses. you clench tight around him in spasms that make your back arch off the bed and your fingers dig into his back to anchor yourself. you sob his name as your pussy pulses around him, your entire body wrung out and shaking.

“that’s it,” he moans deeply, his rhythm stuttering as your walls clamp down. “so tight—”

and he’s right there with you.

with a sharp groan, he drives himself deep to bury every inch inside. his hips jerk and his cock twitches as he spills into you, hot and thick. his voice breaks as he utters your name out like a prayer. one hand squeezes your thigh tight while the other trembles on your waist, trying to hold himself together while he fills you up.

you’re shaking, panting into his shoulder, pulling him close as his warmth spills into you. he doesn’t pull out. not yet. just stays there, breathing ragged against your skin, forehead pressed to yours.

your body trembles with aftershocks, cunt fluttering weakly around his cock, milking every drop from him like your body refuses to let him go.

“fuck,” he whispers, voice almost gentle. “you were made for me.”

you’re still dazed, your brain lagging behind the high. you can feel him dripping out of you already, warm and slick between your thighs.

he leans in, brushing a kiss to your temple, like the lover he is.

“you better squeeze those legs shut when you leave,” he murmurs, cocky smirk creeping back in. “i don’t want anyone seeing what’s mine.”

a/n(2): first time writing sylus, hope i did him justice >_< likes and reblogs r super appreciated, lmk your thoughts on this!!!

@mcdepressed290 here is your tag friend as requested. hope u enjoy!!!

[salaciousdoll]

· · · ℜ · · · Hot Chubby Virgin takes 4 Big C0cks · · · ℜ · · ·

Click the Video

.·:*¨¨*:·. starring Yuushi Totsumoto, Toji fushiguro, Shouta Aizawa, Benimaru Shinmon x Fluffer!reader

Gist: You went from a fluffer to p0rn ★ in just a small amount of time, funny how life changes.

ᰔᩚ ━━ Warnings: Smut, This is a crossover so almost everyone from these anime including aot are mentioned here, Levi is 6’0 here (even though it has nothing to do with the plot), pwp( half of it is plot), reader is chubby/plus size here, body worship, reader is a virgin, blood is mentioned because Aizawa is taking your virginity, mating press, cervix kissing( please know it doesn’t feel good in real life so I heard but this is fictional so who cares), consensual, gang bang, anal play( butt plug, anal, and anal licking), bodily fluids( spitting, squirting, creaming), impact play( slapping, sucking, biting, etc.), degradation kink, random oc’s because of this industry, Toji and benimaru are some little meanies, Yuushi is the only one with a porn ★ name and it’s Yoshi, Praise kink, Oral( receiving and giving), wlw scenes( you are involved as a fluffer), gagging, creampies, breeding kink activated, the men are head over heels for you, Meryl is the news reporter from mha( for those who don’t know her), porn talks, you go from a fluffer to a porn ★, touya is needy for you( Eren and Mr.compress too), age gap, dark content themes, virginity lost, anal virginity lost, rough fucking, daddy kink but I think only mentioned one time, and finally after care.

ᰔᩚ ━━ Word Count: 19.8k

ᰔᩚ ━━ Dolly Note from Salaciousdoll: Hi, my strawberry moon-pies🍓, I’ve been missing out on making fanfics for you guys so this is me officially trying to make my way back into the writing field. So I really hope y’all enjoy this one. I felt like the smut was meh but that’s okay. Also I don’t really know how this works so if it’s inaccurate please tell me!

Working as a fluffer is a dream to some if they have a porn addiction. You, on the other hand, disliked it because you had to sit and watch as the porn actors fake moan and groan.

This was not the plan to spend your first year of college. In fact, this wasn’t your plan at all considering you have a career plan set in motion for when you got out of school. A career you study and read up on all the time. A career of your choice, which is obviously not this. In fact, very far from it but the way college books and tuition is costing, you had no choice but to call this job’s phone number when you saw it on the website pop-up ad.

Fluffers needed

Age: 21+

50/hr

Flexible schedule

Experience in using your hands

call 800-321- 7773

Such a dumb Ad, yet you still took a chance and called. Luckily, it wasn’t a scam and you met all the requirements except the hands part. You didn’t really know what a Fluffer was when you called on impulse. You just saw the rate per hour and had to get it in. As soon as the director heard how pretty your voice is, no matter if it’s deep or soft or medium tone, you were called into an interview. Weird but you still went and glad you did: money wise.

Going into that blind could be traumatizing to some, but not to you. Growing up, you were around hyper sexual people all the time so this lane wasn’t new to you, however massaging or jerking off people to get them hard and wet was new to you. You could be considered apart of the sex work industry yourself to many since you had to get women nipples to stay hard and had to oil them down as well, which includes every crevice and corner of their body.

Sex work has its high and lows and man you did not want to enjoy the lows considering the fact that it out weighs the highs. Men don’t really experience the lows like women do. For example, Midnight and Petra always face harassment online and in real life, can’t forget the biggest of the women– Princess Habana. She was a touchy one with you, but you didn’t mind especially when she asked permission first. Plus, She’s fine as hell to you. All the women in this industry were.

You always looked forward to Hange switch scenes and Mirko scenes. The women and men they pleased always come to you with their heads in the clouds. Habana “victims” always come with sweat all over them, red faced, or out of breath– hinting that they didn’t take too many cuts. Probably why she was the top pornstar here. Real and uncut is her profession. Petra was a sweetheart and that’s why she gets views, the innocence in her non-virgin eyes were a turn on for lots of perverts. The new girl was training under her by the name of Historia. You could tell she’s just like Petra in a way, perfect for this disgusting industry.

Midnight was a panty dropper and heart stopper in this industry, she sometimes helped with fluffering when you’re busy licking and playing with someone else ie. Kayoko tits. Kayoko was an older lady you admired from a distance so when she came to you after having her a personal fluffer for years, it shocked you. You weren’t the only one who was shocked, Obi, her highly requested partner for her scenes, was too.

Going back to Midnight, You thought about her protege, Mount Lady. Mount lady was someone she trained and sometimes did scenes with. You always had to sit through their bickering as you oiled them down when they had pool scenes together with or without a male co-star. They’re too much alike for them to stand being with each other without a camera in their face. Honestly, you couldn’t do it so props to them for stepping into their professional shoes when the cameras roll.

Now if you want to talk about all the big stars in this company, it’ll have to be Hibana, Kayoko, Obi, Charon, joker, Leonard burns( one of the Directors and CEO), Takehisa, Benimaru, Konro, and Vulcan. Midnight, Mt lady, Mirko, Shouta, Hizashi, Toshinori, Enji, Touya, Tomura, and Keigo. Petra, Hange, Mikasa, Eren, Jean, Erwin( Director), Levi, Nile, and Miche. Shoko, Utahime, Toji, Gojo, Geto, Choso, Naoya- though a lot of controversy cpming from his videos-, Higuruma, Shiu, and Nanami.

Those names hold weight in this industry, each having different categories they engage in.

For reference, Levi engages with gaping, flogging, and more. It was interesting figuring these out as you watched the scenes. You had to give Hizashi credit for informing you in one ear and Gojo credit for talking in your other ear as you sat in the background in your own designed chair with your name on it. You were in the middle of them as they kept speaking on and on while trying to throw in a few jokes here and there, had to do it in whispers otherwise Levi is going to call cut and everybody knows what comes next.

You watched as Erwin stared intensely at the scene with his steel blue eyes. Honestly, the man scared you the first time you saw him. Luckily his soothing, deep voice scratched the fear out of your mind. Bringing yourself back to reality, you saw the Lovey, the woman he was fucking mouth opened in a real O which means he was actually making her feel good. Anal looked painful but as long as it showed him gaping her hole she didn't care. I mean, she’s been wanting this since shaking hands with Levi. You could see it in her green eyes. A ginger with a big ass and pretty green eyes, what a star in the making.

Eyes like diamonds as they looked into the camera pointed in front of them. Levi groans and gruff moans were heard as he fucked her open some more as she was on all fours with her chest to the floor and her ass up, giving the viewers and directors exactly what they want. The 6’ feet man didn’t care about anything at the moment and you could tell. Reading body language was fun because you could see he was really enjoying her pretty, freckled ass— the ass grabs let you know too. The carpet was turning her knees red and she didn’t even care.

“ Fuck, Levi! Aahnnn~”, Lovey moans as mascara begins pouring down her face and lips bruised from her sucking his cock earlier.

“ Shit, m’gonna. Holy fuck!”, Levi moans before he cums deep inside of her ass with two deep thrust.

“ Cut! Lovey, Levi, are you two alright to do another shoot on the bed?”, Erwin asked with his deep baritone voice.

Levi huffed out and pulled out his now deflated cock, “ whatever you say Erwin. Just bring me {reader}. Good job, new girl. Just be more loud with the moans in order to sell it even more.” He helped her shaking body up to the bed and caught the towel Obi threw as he walked past to go do his scene with his favorite, Valentine. A red haired woman with pink highlights in her hair hence the name. She was a beauty, brown skin, nice smile, tits, and legs. All around perfect to a lot of men and women. She was a sweetheart to you and you could tell she loved it when she did scenes with him or Takehisa or Nanami. Girl got a specific type, you could almost put your finger on it.

“ {reader’s last name}! You’re up! Levi needs you, he’s in his room.”, Leonardo says as he takes the position Erwin was just in. Erwin must have had to eat his lunch or something. That’s the only time this happens.

You hurried up and got up, sitting your clipboard in your chair and heading to the room with his last name on it: L. Ackerman ✩

You walked in to see him talking on the phone with someone, probably his wife. You didn’t know. You just knew you had to do what they hired you to do.

You grabbed his soft cock in your hand and started stroking him up and down in slow circles just like he liked it.

Levi groaned as his head flew back in pure satisfaction , “ A-alright, I’ll see you tonight. I should be done after two more scenes and then I’m all yours.”

You knew how skilled your hand has gotten overtime while working here, so this was nothing to you and him. He was used to you and didnt want any other Fluffer helping him.

You were so much into your head that you didn’t even notice that he hung up the phone and threw it down on the bed before lifting up to look down at you in between his legs stroking him up and down. Levi wanted to smile at you but his face wouldn’t let him. He wanted you in these scenes, fuck it, he wanted you in every last one of his scenes yet they wouldn’t let him pick you no matter how much he vouched for you since they didn’t have a lot of women in the industry like that. Rare that this company doesn't but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that you’re in between his legs right now.

Levi placed a hand on your chubby cheek, “ And you wonder why I request you out of all fluffers to help me, it’s because you’re so goddamn good at this. So, thank you, {reader’s name}. You’re good to go now. I think it's hard enough to get back on the scene.”

You smiled at him and nodded your head, getting up to open the door before hearing him call your last name, “ They are going to have plans for you. Sooner than later.

You looked back at him, “ Sounds like the infamous Levi Ackerman is worried about me. I’m flattered. I think I’ll be fine and plus it’s not in my contract to have scenes so I’m sure whatever they have planned is probably something to do with Fluffering.” With that being said, you left his room and walked to the bathroom to wash your hands.

Leaving back out the bathroom, you bumped into a figure. Luckily, you didn’t fall like cliche movies instead you were pulled in when the figure saw you stumble. Pulled in by the waist by strong arms, 17 year old you was screaming right now.

“ Sorry, didn’t pay attention to where I was walking. My apologies, baby doll.”, A deep but melodic voice says while you open your eyes again to meet silver-green eyes.

His creamy, buff arms felt so good around your voluptuous body. He confidently held his arms around you while looking for your eyes to meet his eyes again after hurriedly wandering them around in what seems to be a small panic to him.

His chuckles were vibrating his chest— shaking under the touch of your finger tips. You hurried to take your hands from his chest and backed up rapidly so you wouldn’t offend him.

“ No need to do that, doll. Can I ask you a question?”, Toji asked with a small smirk on his face.

You gulped and looked at him, “ um, I really have to g—”

“ So we’re not gonna talk about what happened two weeks ago? You’ve been timid with me ever since. I’m a grown man, {reader}. Just let me know how you feel, nothing will go wrong, I promise.”, Toji said as he took a step forward. You surprised him by not backing up to let him cage you in just like he did last time which caused him to get a kiss on the lips from you.

Lips as soft as chewy butterscotch candy. He wanted more of you. He had to get more of you, eventually. Sadly, he knew he wasn’t the only man who had their eyes on you. He knew Yuushi and Shouta did too.

Those two were annoying to him. He felt like you didn’t even like speaking with them or even helping them, so why do they keep eyeing you whenever you walk past. Toji heard that someone else accidentally moaned your name as he fucked a girl similar to you. Apparently, the guy was on par with him. The guy was stacked it seems. Benimaru was the only one he can think of that’s on par with him.

Popularity was going through the roof with a lot of employees here but there seems to be two main people in the categories of threesomes, orgies, Gang bangs, and etc. Which is himself and Yuushi.

The guy was a loner for the most part and stays in his own room unless they come and tell him he has a scene. He never cared about being in the spotlight, he just wanted to pleasure women. Pleasuring women has been his thing ever since his ex-girlfriend. The woman who introduced him to this industry, just to die and leave him all alone.

Now Benimaru was another but similar story. The guy was a loner off set but when he’s in front of the camera, he turns into a completely different person. Almost like he has a second persona when that’s not even the case. He just knows how and what to do without listening to people. You admired the way he did stuff at his own pace and that’s what Toji didn’t know. He didn’t know that you watched him and Yuushi, often comparing them to Shouta and Benimaru. They all had something similar that attracts you. You couldn’t put a finger on it.

“ Toji, it was one kiss. I’m sure you kissed a lot of other women in this industry. Now excuse me I have to go on the other side of this big ass studio for Touya ass. See ya later and don’t purposely cum inside of whoever you fucking just to see me again. It’s annoying catering to you five times a damn day.”, you said as you walked around him. You were on your way down to Touya when you heard your name being called by Shouta.

You walked to him as he sat on the couch chair holding a bottle of oil. “ You know what to do, { reader’s last name}.” You rolled your eyes and let out a small smile across your lips, “ I keep telling you, Shouta. You don’t have to call me by my last name anymore. I’ve been at this company for almost a year now.”

Shouta looked into your eyes with his black tired eyes, “ I respect you, {reader’s last name}. I don’t want to find myself crossing the line of unprofessionalism.”

Your lip stretched and your teeth showed as you felt your head tilt back following a loud laugh afterwards. You pulled it together after a few seconds, “ Please unprofessionalism my ass, you have a lot of nerve Mr. Aizawa.”

“ Thought you said we weren’t supposed to bring that up, look who’s bringing it up now.”, Shouta says in a low voice making the deep tone drop lower causing your vagina to tingle.

“ You know what, let’s just get this over with shall we?”, You asked as you opened the bottle to put the oil on your hand. “ You’re not going to stand for me so I could put this o-”

“ No, I want to rest my feet plus I’m sure whoever you were heading to is going to wait for you regardless. After all, you’re the famous Fluffer around here.”, Shouta says as he leaned back in the recliner couch chair.

You huffed and got closer to him to place your hands on his chest, trailing your hands further down his torso, you felt all his abs and was in love with this job all over again. Only this part you were in love with. His robe was blocking your way of seeing all of him, but you had a feeling he did that on purpose, especially with the way he was watching you.

Aizawa bit his lip at the feeling of your cold hands laced in baby oil gliding down his torso ultimately massaging him on the way down. He didn’t really need your help with this considering he’s a vet in this industry so he would know how to oil himself down, but he wanted to feel your chubby fingers massaging him instead.

Aizawa eyed your boobs protruding out of the strapless pink corset-shirt you wore, he then trailed his eyes to your belly which turned him on even more. He liked that you were careless of everyone’s opinions on bigger people wearing clothes like you wore. He could always hear some newbies talking about you and what you wear. He loved and hated how jealous and hateful they sound because he knew it never gets to you. You oozed confidence and that’s what made him completely turn his attention to you and only you.

He then eyed the light jeans you wore and wanted to rip them off. He thought about things he wanted to do to you until he felt your hands on his thighs causing him to let out a short moan. Your hands were so close to his erection and you were so damn professional about it. Now who’s actually crossing that line.

Keeping a straight face was a part of your job and Shouta was making it hard for you. You so badly wanted to laugh at his erection poking your hand as you oiled him up around that area. Laugh in response of being turned on or embarrassment, you weren’t sure.

Soon you made it to his legs and feet, stopping to put more oil on your hands before rubbing more oil on his body. After a minute, you were done and he stood up causing you to be at eye level of his erection, luckily his robe was in the way or else your eye could’ve been poked.

You looked up at him with your pretty eyes. He loved to see every day he came into this forbidden place. He wanted to see you on your knees like this for him everyday. He was about to lean his head back once he felt your breath blowing on his cock causing it to move up and down in excitement.

“ Fuck, {reader’s first name}.”, Aizawa moaned as his damp hair covered his eyes. His hand came up to his mouth in disbelief of what you were about to do until he felt you get snatched away.

“ Hey dickface, she isn’t on your time now. She’s on mine cause I asked for her. And you, when I ask for you I expect you to be there, not on your way to becoming a pornstar for this old dirtbag. Real low, even for you.”, Touya says as his tattooed arm was placed around your neck dragging you with him.

Aizawa let out a huff and groaned into his hand, “ she almo—”

“ Got you too. Surprised at you, Aizawa. Didn’t think you’d fall for it.”, Toji says as he leaned against the wall.

“ How long have you been there, you do realize creeping on people is illegal.”, Aizawa said.

Toji chuckled and turned to walk out but stopping again to speak, “ We’re in a business like this. Please save the holy and thou talk for someone who cares. Now, You do know she looks at both of us right?”

“ What the hell is that supposed to mean? We’re the top pornstars in this business. Of course, she’ll look at us. We’re not speci—”, Aizawa says, rubbing more oil on his arms, finally getting rid of that robe.

“ Speak for yourself, Aizawa. Maybe a man of a few words, but I could still observe and see that she’s eyeing us longer than the rest.”, Yuushi said as he walked up.

They all were so used to seeing each other naked that Aizawa being naked or Yuushi being half naked wasn’t a thing to shy away from in disgust. “ So she stares at us longer, now what?”

Aizawa was tired of them already and they just showed up. These two were just as much as Gojo and Yamada. In fact, everyone was annoying except you in his books.

“ Now we wait and see if the opportunity will come to us. I’m sure it will, considering the actor we were all supposed to do scenes with might not make it because of a plane delay , but again, we will see.”, Benimaru says as he walks past the door the two buff men were standing at.

He stopped to look at all three of them, “ Look, she’s the star Fluffer around here and we all have some sort of relationship with her but let me be clear right here and now. I don’t want to do this scene with either of you. I would rather work alone but since a huge amount of money is involved, I have no choice. As for the pretty one, she’ll be with me in no time, on and off set, doesn’t really matter..” With that he walked off leaving the other three to dwindle on his words.

“ I can't stand that guy.”, Yuushi said as he walked away.

“ That’s all? He’s a funny one. Well, I’ll see you later Aizawa.”, Toji said as he hit his door threshold as he left. Aizawa kept replaying the scene of you on your knees blowing on his dick over and over again. He needed you quickly.

Meanwhile, you were now swirling your hips on Touya’s cock causing him to whimper and moan out your name, “ mmm shit, just like that.” You chuckled prior to swirling your tongue on his nipples and playing with the other one with your index finger.

You unlatched your mouth from his nipple— the saliva creating a skinny, long string, “ That’s enough, pretty boy. Can’t have you cumming before the scene.” Touya groaned and rolled over on his side once you got up off of him, “ Really. You’re such a tease, see why my brother spoke about you.”

“ Natsuo talks about me? I thought that he didn’t like anything I did because he’ll say he got it from here.”, Your imitation of his voice caused Touya to chuckle. Touya came up to you with his hard on cock in his hand, “ Oh that just means his ass didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of little ol’ {reader}. Meaning you did great, doll.”

Touya kissed you on the cheek and walked out the door to finish his scenes for the day. You huffed and fixed yourself. Honestly, you needed a break and that’s exactly what you are going to take. A lunch break.

Your heels clicked against the tiled floor as you walked past the loud moans and groans of women and men in different rooms. Door open or closed. You heard one girl moaning Mirko’s and Hange’s name. Oh how you wanted to be her in there. You were about to make your way out the door when Erwin called your name making you stop where you were. “ Are you on your way out for lunch, {reader’s name}? If so, take my card, it’s the least I could do for causing you to stay longer than expected last Thursday.”

You were about to decline when he gave you the look you hated from him. His blue eyes were drilled on you and you hated it. So, you walked to him to see him standing a few feet behind Leonardo as they both watched the scene of Aizawa and Shoko both fucking Emi. Aizawa was fucking her mouth while Shoko was slapping her tits and digging inside of her pussy with her strap-on. Her gags were so pretty and sensual. No wonder she’s been getting requested more, that’s what you heard from the grapevines: Suguru Geto.

You eyed the way Aizawa was fucking Emii’s mouth so rough and sexy. The spit dripping down her mouth was everything you wanted. You needed him and soon his eyes met yours for a split second which turned into a minute.

“ Alright cut!, Aizawa what’s the deal? Why are you not focused?”, Leonardo said in a gruff voice. You didn’t stay for his response since he only took his eyes off you when Leonardo finished asking the question. It was like you were stuck under his gaze and you didn’t like it -you loved it-.

You walked out the door to get lunch with Erwin’s black card. You were about to walk to your car when your phone rang. You hurried to dig into your bag to pull it out and put it on speaker, “ what your bitch ass want?”

Your brother's chuckles were dancing to your ears, “ Shut up bitch, mom wants you at dinner tomorrow, she is still trying to set you up with that man. We both know he wants my ass. I don't know why she ignores the obvious signs.”

You got into your car and your phone automatically connected with the Bluetooth hooked to your radio, “ I don’t know either. He stares at you most of the time and I know your thirsty ass got his number.”

“ Ah ah, your ass gave me his number so don’t play. Anyways, she just wants her grandbabies since I can’t give it to her since I’m Pansexual, which in her damn eyes it’s the end of her trying to push grandbabies agenda on me, and sis can’t give it to her since she’s, ya know.. So, like always, you're her last hope.”, Your brother says with a yawn following.

You were about to pull off until a knock was heard on the passenger side of your window causing you to jump. The person let out a deep chuckle, “ Mind if we catch a ride with you, starving over here.”

“ Jin! Reiner! Of course. Hop in. Due note I’m going to frijoles but I think there’s more food spots in that little mall.”, You say as you unlock the doors to your car letting them get in. “ Hey bro, I’m gonna call you later, see you at dinner tomorrow.”

“ Make sure you ask one of them t-” click, you hurried to end the call on him because he was about to say something outrageous. Both blondes had their eyebrows lifted up and you nervously laughed it off.

“ brothers am I right? Haha.”, you said as you pulled off to your destination.

“ What exactly was he about to say? He must be a little shit.”, Jin says to which you nod in agreement.

“ Hey but only I get to call him that.”, You joked while pushing his shoulder. Jin laughed and held up his hands, “ My bad, sweetness. By the way, Atushiro has been annoying dabi and shigaraki ever since he found out they hog you. They say he’s getting more annoying than the Eren guy.”

“ Eren’s been annoying them of all people, why? Why won’t Atsuhiro come find me himself?”, You asked as you turned a corner.

Reiner sighed, “ Because he feels the same way that Sako feels, it’s weird. What hold do you have over these people? Rhetorical by the way.”

You shrugged anyway, “ those two really don’t hog me the way you all think they do.” Both Jin and Reiner looked at you with the same face making you laugh, “ Okay maybe they do.”

You continued driving and laughing, “ Besides, don’t act like you two don’t be needy as well.”

Reiner sat up between you two, “ Don’t hold that against us, {reader}. You’ve gotten way too good with only a year in this company, why wouldn’t we be needy.” You coughed and looked away from his gold eyes and turned to face the now green light.

“ Let’s just get this food and go back because I think I wasted 10 minutes already.”, You say, getting flustered. Reiner smirked a bit and leaned back with his legs cocked wide open. Jin laughed and poked fun at you on your way to Frijoles.

Once you got there, you ordered what you wanted and once you all ordered, you all stood on the side and waited until you got your food.

“ Oh my God, Jin and Reinerrr! My favorites.”, A woman with a group of girls says, coming up to them with a huge smile on their face. You stepped out of the way and let them sign her tits. She must watch a lot of their porn to want their names on her toys in permanent marker.

You laughed at Jin's face. He looked like he was shy and it was funny watching the sweat roll down his face. You were about to say something smart until they called your name letting you know your food is ready. Reiner and Jim both grabbed your hand, not before bidding the women farewells. You let them hold your hand as you three made your way to pick up the food, Reiner offered to pay so this was a freebie for you. Jin grabbed the bag and you three went to the car to go back to work.

“ That was something. This is why you have to wear glasses in public. I thought y’all knew that.”, You say, having a point.

Jin huffed, “ Don’t be a smart ass, we forgot. Well, I did. Can’t speak for himbo boy here.” He was drinking his soda he got from the machine after asking for a cup for water. Just lying and thieving.

“ Himbo?! Yeah no. I didn’t forget just didn’t know people would recognize me in Frijoles of all places. Most people don’t approach male pornstars like this so it was surprising.”, Reiner said, eating his chips.

“ Logical but still not good enough since you’re a part of the biggest company with multiple pornstars in the top 20. You’re number 15 Reiner, be serious here.”, You said while Jin laughed at Reiner’s face.

The ride back to your job was smooth and funny. Reiner was talking about how beautiful one of the women that stopped him and Jin was and how he should’ve gotten her number. Jin was calling him a pussy and making fun of him for being a “ pussy”.

You three walked into the building and they both kissed your cheek before walking off. You suddenly got pulled by your arm and dragged over to Utahime by MeiMei.

“ Get her off with your touchy magic. I’m staying and watching.”, Mei Mei said to which you shook your head.

“ Uhnt uh. You’re not watching, you perv and I’m on my lunch break so give me ten minutes Utahime and I’ll be right with you. How long before you do the scene with this freak behind me?”, You ask as you smack Mei Mei hand, that stretches out to touch your waist, away from you.

You heard her laugh like it was funny and then smiled at Utahime. She looked up at you since she was sitting on the bed with her arms behind her, “ That’s totally fine, no rush, pretty. Just need you to have something in your stomach before you assist me. Do not want you to starve when you’re helping me.”

You smiled and nodded your head before turning to walk out the door at the same time Mt lady was coming inside the room. You two almost bumped into each other, luckily you didn’t. You smiled at her and waited for her to pass you. As you were finally walking out the door, Mt lady grabbed your hand and smiled at you, “ You coming back? I really hope so, I need you to prep me for my scene.” You nodded your head and walked out to find a quiet place where you could eat your food in peace and you knew the perfect place.

Your storage room. You called it yours because you have yet to find someone else occupying it when you go in there. Hopefully, it’ll continue like that. You opened the door and cursed yourself for speaking too soon, you saw a man’s silhouette and was about to turn around until the lights turned on revealing Benimaru, the vet in this business, started when he was freshly 20 and now he’s 32 years old. That’s what you read up online after curiously searching for him since you were beginning to be infatuated with him.

He was sitting there eating his food, now staring at you as he chewed his food. The not blinking should’ve been concerning to you, but that just made the room more hotter or was it him. You had a great feeling it was his gaze. Red heterochromia eyes, one red and the other one red with streaks of white. You wondered if he got his eyes from his mom or dad.

“ You’re gonna sit down or not?”, Benimaru said as he pointed at the seat beside him. You sighed and just when you were about to sit down, he slid the chair next to him. Closer. You were surprised and he could see it in your face, you were surprised and he was pleased by your small reaction on your face.

You two ate in silence, chewing were the only sounds you two could hear. You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to speak when he suddenly interrupted you, “ How do you like this job so far? Never got to ask you earlier than now.”

He chomps on the rice ball he got from the market as you put your palm on your face, “ It’s…” Benimaru stared at you as he stopped eating as if that helps with hearing you better. “ It’s… okay. Pay is good, it’s still a new transition for me since I never thought to be in this field of work. It’s still different but interesting.” You looked at Benimaru and instantly locked eyes with him, you started to play with your bangles and bracelets on your wrist to distract yourself from emitting heat from your cheek.

“ What about you? Do you like your line of work? You seem to become another person when the director yells action.”, You said while putting rice in your mouth.

Benimaru stared at you for a second, admiring the way your cheeks grew bigger as you ate your food. He couldn’t wait to bite them as he split you open. He cleared his throat and sat up, “ I used to love this job up until my third year doing this. I actually wanted to quit, believe it or not. Don’t really care… It was Konro who managed to convince me to stay in this field. Only a year ago, I started to love this complicated job.”

“ Why a year ag—”, you asked before he interrupted you.

“ You really wanna know? Don’t see why you would want to know, but I’ll tell you anyway. It’s because I met someone who piqued my interest in this forbidden career.”, Beni says as he bites into his food again.

You raised an eyebrow and opened your mouth to say something when someone opened the door, another worker with his loud walkie talkie, “ You’re on Benimaru in 45 minutes, make sure your muscles are massaged properly for this scene. Oh hey, {reader}!”

You waved as Benimaru got up with a sigh. He looked down at the one rice ball he had left and placed it on the side of your Frijole bowl, “ Here, take it and try it.” You were surprised because he never shared his food with you like that. You stared up at him from where you were sitting and smiled at him whispering a thank you. He nodded at you and walked away from you. You didn’t see the softness in his eyes when he looked back at you on his way out the door because you were looking at your phone— still eating from that bowl.

“ It was nice.”, Benimaru whispered as he made his way to his scene. He thought it was nice to speak to you. He wanted to hear your voice more but duty calls first, at least for right now. He also would've gotten a massage from you, but he knew you were on break so he whistled at another Fluffer and they followed behind him.

You, on the other hand, was now chewing the rice ball and almost moaned at how good and different it was to you. You suddenly got a text from Yuushi asking for you. You smiled at his pleas and eagerness for you to be his Fluffer instead of Arima, who was the best Fluffer before you got there. You never understood why they want to keep you on your toes but whatever. You’re just glad that you actually managed to finish your food today without being dragged by Eren, Jean, Tenko, Or Vulcan. Very refreshing.

You got up to throw your food away and went to the nearest bathroom to wash your hands. When you were done, you grabbed a paper towel and dried them off prior to throwing it in the garbage and leaving the bathroom. You made your way to Mt. Lady and Utahime first before you got to Yuushi— passing by multiple open scenes with pornstars fucking other pornstars. Beds banging against the wall, tables scratching across the floor, and most of all, the moans and groans complementing those movements. This was your life. The life you chose to live.

You had to get yourself off in the bathroom plenty of times, like the time Miche and Higuruma was fucking Ms.Midnight. Both pounding into her holes like they were on a mission to see who’s better and faster. You remember crossing your legs as you stood in the back watching the scene. Her moans were only adding on to your horniness. The most seductive and pretty moans you ever heard and they seemed so real. Their gruff moans and groans were loud as well. What you didn’t notice is Toji smirking at you during that time since he was on his break and decided to stop by here to see what’s all the commotion here. He knew you were horny, your thighs were the dead giveaway.

So now going into the room where only Utahime and Mt Lady were at, you witnessed them two making out and you so badly wanted to join especially the way Mt.Lady was fondling Utahime’s breast with one hand and the other hand was making their way up to her onyx hair—yanking her head back to trail her lips over her throat. This was very intimate for the scene to not start yet. You cleared your throat loudly and they broke away from each other but not before Mt. Lady sucked on Utahime’s neck one last time.

You laughed at Utahime’s ditzy expression, “ Damn, you two have some good ass chemistry. So sorry for interrupting, but I have to help you two fast because Yuushi requested for me and you know how much of an nonchalant ass he could be to other people when he doesn’t get his way with me.” They both nodded, both being on the other end receiving his nonchalant asshole ways because you didn’t turn up for work that one time.

“ Well we already prepped each other here so you can make sure we’re wet enough , here.”, Mt lady says as she lifts up her skirt showing her tanned pretty pussy. You smirked at her knowing she doesn't really need help to figure out if she’s wet enough or not. She just wants your lips on her. “ You sure you want me to because I just got done eating and— fuck it. Lay down.”

She gladly laid down for you and spread her long legs for you, you got between her as Utahime watched closely while having her legs cocked open as her Dainty fingers played with her pussy. She always wanted you like Mt Lady had you right now. On your knees with your eyes on her while you eat her out and she would gladly do the same thing to you with no problem. In fact, she would gladly die in between your thighs if she could.

You blew on her pussy as your eyes locked with hers. You smirked before licking a stripe of her pussy making her breath hitch. You’ve become a master of licking pussy due to licking theirs in order to get them wet enough for their scenes. Your mouth closed around her clit, sucking it into your mouth softly making her legs shake a little. She let out a throaty whimper, lifting her hips up and down to get you to lick her the way she wanted and needed.

You kissed her clit after popping it out your mouth, hearing Utahime’s moans as you heard the squelches of her wet pussy being fingered fucked by her own fingers. Mt Lady’s head flew back when you flicked your tongue rapidly over her clit while pushing one finger into her pussy— feeling her juices drip on your finger. You knew she was wet enough, both of them really, but you still wanted to tease them, so you trailed your tongue down her pussy and into her hole, replacing the finger you once had in her, swirling your tongue around making her clench your hairstyle in her hands as she said your name through the pants she released from her pink lips.

“ Mmmahh! Your mouth.. your tongue is so mmmgh!”, Mt lady moaned as you flicked your tongue up and down inside of her. She tasted so good even after you ate, but unfortunately, you had to stop this before she cums before her scene and you never supposed to let them do that. That was a clear rule in the contract.

You dragged your tongue out of her and over her pussy one last time prior to getting up off your knees and leaning down to kiss Utahime so she could lick and suck Mt.Lady juices off your lips. And that she did. She tongue kissed you so passionately while whimpering, “ I need you, stay a little bit more.”

You so badly wanted to stay, but you couldn’t. Duty calls. Utahime licked around your lips before planting another kiss on your lips, “ Gosh, you're so damn perfect. Too perfect for these damn men.”

You laughed as the door opened and an annoying but attractive voice spoke, “ Awwn, what about me, {reader}.” MeiMei, you forgot about her but you assumed she got help elsewhere and you were right.

You scoffed as you stared at her before turning your attention to Mt lady and Utahime, “ That was nice for a moment girls. Make sure you two let her know if she takes it overboard. Mostly talking to you, Utahime… I will see you guys around.”

You were about to walk out the door until MeiMei's voice spoke out, “ Ignoring me is only gonna turn me on even more, princess.” You rolled your eyes and continued walking out the door. Once the door closed you fixed yourself up before walking on the other side of the building for Yuushi.

Once you got there, you heard four other voices and recognized them. You wanted to turn around and act like you were helping someone like Keigo or something. The four voices you never wanted to be in the room at the same time with. You breathed in and out your hands on the door, twisting it and was about to open when you heard Aizawa’s voice, “ What do you mean she couldn’t make it? where’s she?”

“ Calm down, her plane is delayed until tomorrow. So we may have to reschedule this scene to tom-”, the director of their scene, Gido, says before he’s interrupted by Toji.

“ That can’t work, I have a big scene to do. Maybe we could find a replacement.”, Toji suggested.

“ No, that would mean we would have to take pictures and go over the scene, which ultimately means working overtime. I’m sure you guy-”, the director says, getting interrupted again.

“ Do not speak for me. I don’t care if we go overtime. I have the perfect candidate in my mind. She’ll be perfect since she already knows how everything works here.”, Benimaru says as the other hummed in agreement.

You forgot you were holding onto the door when suddenly it flew open, revealing Yuushi staring at you with Benimaru, Toji, Aizawa, and the stage crew in the back.

The director was walking over to you, “ Hey we don’t ne-”

“ Yes, we do. She’s the perfect candidate he was speaking about, Gido.”, Yuushi says while holding eye contact with you. Your hands were beginning to get clammy as you processed his words inside of your mind. Once it clicked, you hurriedly shook your head, “ No, No. I am a Fluffer, that's all.”

Toji walked past Yuushi and placed his large arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him, “ Oh come on, {reader}. I think you have exactly what we all need. You didn’t even give it a chance.”

“ I’m not cut out for doing things in front of a camera, Toji. It’s nerve wrecking and besides I’m not rea—”, you say, your words lingering until Aizawa got what you were saying.

“ You’re a virgin. That’s why you’re not ready.”, Aizawa says as he watches you look down at the ground in sheer embarrassment. Honestly, he expected you to not be considering the skill you possess and how you flirt and dress.

Toji lifted your head up to face him, “ Can I kiss you?”

The director lit up as he processed Aizawa’s words. “ Actually, you guys are right. She’s perfect for this role. The entire scene is based on the Daughter’s bestfriend fucking the step-father and his friends. What’s better is she’s an actual virgin. This is perfect! Come on, let's get you prepped.”

He dragged you over to the bathroom and you were expressing how this is very new and different and how you didn’t even make a decision. Benimaru heard you and yelled for the director to stop for a second. He walked up to you placing two hands on your face, “ You have the option to decide if you want to do this or not. No one and I mean no one is going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. That’s not how we work over here.”

You looked into his eyes, almost hypnotizing yourself. You slowly nodded your head, “ Yes. I wanna do it.” You just wanted them four, you didn’t even think about you being on camera anymore because all you thought about was them.

Benimaru hummed and smirked at you, “ Atta girl. Go get measured and prepped for photos and whatever else you need for this scene. We will gladly guide you on what to do, just listen to us.” You nodded your head and got dragged away not even a second later. The director dragged you past the bathroom area and in front of a lady ready to take your measurements.

You felt like a doll as they measured you before your shower– they dressed you up after the shower. You requested a shower because you didn’t want to be sweaty down there while possibly getting the best dick of your life. As soon as you got out of the shower, Gido’s assistant was waiting with her eyes shut and a big bath-robe held open for you to glue your body to. Stepping into the towel, You opened the door to get a pajama set shoved in your arms and some refreshments for moisturizing your body the perfect way for your first scene.

Walking into another area, you still haven’t seen the guys yet. You didn’t have time to worry about them because now the Assistant and another fluffer/ Pornstar named Meryl, who was your co- partner for this storyline. She was supposed to be your best friend in this story line. One thing you’ve learned about this industry is that people can have more than one role in this business. She had two roles now. Meanwhile, The assistant’s hands were magical. They felt so good and you could tell this used to be a fluffer from how skilled she was.Her rubbing circles on your nipples was enough to get them steel and hard.

You honestly liked getting so dolled up and pretty; this may be your favorite part out of all of this. It will vary as time passes. A makeup artist was doing your makeup as well. Feeling the makeup brushes and blenders patting at your face so gently was the best, it felt like you were getting ready for a big movie that could’ve broken the box office with insane numbers. You snapped out of your little fantasy when you heard Meryl’s sweet sultry voice, “ Okay, so you only got five lines throughout this entire opening act. After that, You’ll be talking with Yuushi, who's acting as my step-father. Remember to make this sound as natural as you can. After all, this is your debut video for this company. No more hiding behind the scenes, pretty girl.”

You laughed at her teasing you until Tina, one of the makeup artists, scolded her for making you laugh. You were about to respond when you heard his assistant speak, “ Don’t scare her too much, Meryl. I could tell she’s going to be a natural at this.”

“ They’re right, you know. But I need you ladies to do less chit chatting for now. Need those two to go over their lines with each other.”, the director said as he handed you two the script.

You took the paper from the director’s hand. You look over the paper and look through it nodding at some of the lines you have. It's not much like Meryl said— good.

“Okay, are you ready? It’s only me and you right now, forget everyone in this room right now. Focus on my eyes if that’s not enough. I want you to do so well because I want scenes with you too, babydoll.”, Meryl says as she winked at you.

You smiled and looked into her eyes with a nod letting her know you’re ready. She smiled at you and looked down at the paper before looking at you, “ Hey, wanna spend the night, my step dad isn’t home so it’ll just be us here.”

You looked down at the paper before looking up into her eyes, “ sure, I could use a foot break, l-l, oh shit!” You lifted the paper up to your face to hide your obvious embarrassment.

She hurried to console you by grabbing your wrist, “ No No that was good, you just need to work on remembering your lines. Right Mr. Gido?”

“ Yes, Normally people would’ve had to look at the paper five more times before they uttered that sentence on their first try. Proud of you for that bit so now I need you to take it home for me. You can do that for me, {reader’s name}?”, Gido says as he holds a clipboard to his eyes. You nodded as if he could see you from behind the clipboard and looked down at your lines again, memorizing them and locking them into your mind for the next ten minutes. That's how much time they gave you since Meryl had to get her makeup retouched. You turned the page to see your next lines, which was when you were gonna be talking to Yuushi and his buddies during their card game late at night. It looks like it’s supposedly at 3 am. You blushed at some of the lines on the outside, luckily the makeup artist could only feel your skin getting warmer with excitement and not everyone else. But on the inside, You were screaming like you were a little girl getting your first doll of your kind. So excited for this scene that you almost forgot that you had to get there first.

Soon the makeup artist was done and when they turned you around, You were astonished at how natural and warm it looked. You smiled at yourself in the mirror and watched as another woman fixed your hair. You were so glad Gido had women as makeup artists and hairstylists. You didn’t want to look too light for your own complexion or hair looking not so great because some people don’t know how to do your hair type or hairstyle right when it comes to this industry or any industry for that matter.

You watched as the woman fixed your hair or type of hairstyle into whatever style you wanted. It was beautiful and made your face shine brighter because it enhanced the shape of your face entirely. You smiled at yourself and your glowing face. God, you looked like a pretty bratz doll and everyone heard you whisper that to yourself which earned laughs and hums of agreements.

They got you out of the chair and pulled you into Meryl’s dressing room, getting you dressed for the photoshoot which is going to go straight into the shoot of the video. Once you were informed of that, You knew doll time was over, now it’s time to take this seriously. Your mind was running wild with thoughts of doubt and worry. You were even scared that you would mess up a lot and cause the men's boners to go away because of how many stopping points you were worried to make. Meryl was in there getting dressed when you heard the door shut indicating that you were alone with one of the biggest pornstars in the industry.

You stared at yourself in the mirror thinking ‘are you really about to do this right now’. You were brought out of that thought by a mocha hand just below your boobs, “ Relax, { reader}. I'm with you and at any time, you could stop and we’ll just have to wait on Yuki, long wait, but I would want you to be comfortable then to complain about waiting until tomorrow to do these scenes.” Meryl skin felt so good on your own skin. The warmth she and you have together was enough for you so as she traced her hands up and down your arms to soothe your mind, you leaned your head back against her shoulder. Careful to not lean too far back because she's shorter and weighs less than you. You two were on a chair bench in her dressing room.

“ If you’re too nervous, I could always tell them to wait for Yuki to arrive tomorrow. All you have to do is say it, sweet heart.”, Meryl said as she stared at your neck in the mirror. She followed her first mind and kissed your neck, “ or maybe a little warm up could help you while you put on your clothes. Your choice.” You let her keep kissing your neck with small pecks. You finally whimpered out a small “ yes… please”

Meryl’s blonde hair draped down your shoulders as she planted one last kiss before she tapped you to lift up for a minute to let her get up to lay you down on the long couch. She placed your clothes on the side prior to unwrapping the damp bath robe from your body revealing your full-figure in her pretty blue eyes. Her eyes narrowed and smile brightened. “ Your body is so damn cute, gorgeous. I mean, we all knew that from the pretty, skimpy outfits you prance around here with. You're tempting women like me and Men like them all the time. I may do scenes with the majority of men but I'm willing to change some things around for you if you actually do consider officially doing porn. Do you have any idea how much you’ll pull in with this body especially in the, I hate to say it, BBW category?” You giggled at the attention she’s giving your body as she boldly gushed over it. She made you feel like she was analyzing an art piece submitted to an art gallery. On one hand it was glorious and on the other, it was a little weird because you never had someone so in tune in describing you while tracing her hands over every part of your body. It’s almost like she was worshiping your body.

Meryl kissed down your body with wet kisses, you covered your face in embarrassment and she shook her head and brought your hands from your face, “ no, na uh. You have to be confident in this, pretty. You can’t cover up your face when Aizawa eats your pussy. He’s the best pussy eater next to Kukasabe. And trust me, He’s gonna make you look at him as he does it. It’s his specialty.” she shrugged her shoulders before stopping to breathe in the smell of your natural smelling pussy and almost moaned.

She had to snap out of it because she could feel she was getting obsessed with you, so she just took one lick at your pussy with her tongue making your tense up and shake. “ Don’t worry I'm not going to be the one eating you today, so relax. I don’t wanna repeat myself anymore.” Your body relaxed like she said and you were a little weirded out because you never reacted that way when someone demands something of you.

Meryl grabbed your clothes, placed your shorts by your feet for you to step in and you did. As she pulled them up, she eyed your pussy one last time and licked her lips before pulling them up, just a little over your fupa, showing a little of your little rolls on your stomach. She watched you lift up so you could put the pajama shirt on. It was the cutest pajama set: black tank-top shirt with the bubble-gum pink words “ Scrumptious Doll” on it and black with white polka-dot mini shorts with bubble-gum pink on the outline hugging your thighs and ass just right. It dont even matter if your ass is big or little, it’s gonna show regardless.

As you looked in the mirror, Your tits looked yummy in the natural push up bra this tank top had. The lower outline part of the tank top had pink lace making it appear so much cuter. You fixed your tank top to show more of your boobs and fixed the bottom. Meryl bent down in her own light blue pajama shorts she had on and helped you put your pretty manicured feet in the house shoes they brought you too. It was uncanny how they found this in less than 30 minutes but you’ll digress.

Meryl grabbed your hand as you both walked out the door ultimately about to change your life for better or worse. This was a gamble on your part and you knew it. Gambling was never the thing for you, but you are about to make it yours now. You two walked on the set where the bed you were about to be split open in sat. It was a cute little get up for a set.

The set room had pink Victoria secret stripe walls and the bed was a queen size bed that had black and pink bed set on it. The headboard had a perfect size mirror attached to it and so did the ceiling one. This was very detailed, almost like it was requested instead of just given to them like the usual. The pretty carpet in front of the bed was fluffy and a gorgeous white.

Meryl grabbed your hand and guided you to the bed, “ Okay let’s get the camera’s working, people. I’m gonna guide her through taking photos so no need to yell and spook her off with that yelling you love to do, Gido.”

You smiled at her pointing at the director without a care in the world. You also watched his reaction and laughed at the eye roll and shrug. She turned to you and smiled at you, “ I want you to tell me if anything is too uncomfortable for you during this section. Now I want you to lay back for me.”

Just like that, you snapped into work mode again and instantly laid down for her to get on top of you looking into your pretty eyes as she did— like a certified seductress. You felt yourself getting wet as she licked her lips at your cute serious face, “ Now open your legs for me.” She was straddling your now open legs showing off her ass as she looked back at the camera. A click was heard and you knew there was no turning back from this, so you had to suck all of the nervousness out of your mind during this entire fiasco. In response to your thoughts, you placed your hands on Meryl’s ass, squeezing it and she let out the most beautiful whimper meaning she was sensitive.

“ Perfect, now just take a bit further for me!”, Gido yelled from where he was with a smile on his face. He was loving the shot of your fat pussy tracing through the tight shorts they gave you. He was loving the way you grabbed Meryl’s ass with your pretty manicured hands as well. The color of your nails looked so pretty against Meryl’s skin complexion. Yours as well.

Meryl kissed you and you both whimpered at the contact causing Aizawa eyes to widen as he walked in to see what the director is so giddy about. He was supposed to wait since they made a pact to only see you during the scene just five minutes ago ,but he couldn’t wait.

He watched as you two continued to liplock with each other, obviously losing each other in that sensual kiss you two shared. He could tell Meryl wanted you for herself and she was gonna make sure to get a scene with you just not now. Aizawa was brought out of his trance when midnight walked next to him whistling at the scene.

“ She’s going to enjoy herself and I’m not apart of it! I always wanted to be her first scene when she finally stopped being such a scaredy cat. Shame it’s going to be you four. May the girl survive enough to do a scene with Meryl and I. And maybe Yuki when she gets here. She seems like her type.”, Midnight says as Aizawa intensely watches as you now look at the camera with no sense of anxiety inside of you. The way your thick thighs and legs looked as they were cocked open. Your shorts pooled at your feet whilst Meryl stuck her tongue out to place on the opening of your pussy through your pretty pink underwear.

“ You act as if you three aren’t worse than us. You won’t even let the girl get a break unless she uses the safe word you create for her.”, Aizawa says as he eyed your facial expression noting that you’re gonna be an excellent actor.

Meryl took your hand and guided you to the edge of the bed and pushed you down to which you arched knowing that’s what they wanted. A year of watching other pro stars having to do this comes in handy. The director set up as you arched perfectly. He was beginning to grow hard at the thought of you bending over for him. He didn’t give a damn about the cameras right now and that’s a first. Gosh, he wanted to see you fucked, so he’ll have to speed this up. Whispering to himself was his thing, this time it was about you, “ Such a perfect fucking arch for a virgin. She’s perfect.”

Meryl took in your form with a smile and placed her hands on your wide hips seeing herself fucking you straight with her choice of a strap. She shook her head of the potential moans and names that spew from your lips and finally hooked her finger inside of your pantries pulling them to the side to reveal your pretty pussy to them. Trimmed just right to see that it’s naturally fat and pretty. The slick of your pussy stuck to Meryl’s hand and your panties a little bit. You were wet and Meryl’s mouth was getting watery—- she wasn’t the only one.

The room was silent and you could hear a pin drop. You started to get nervous from the silence until you heard the camera clicking away and sighs were let out, well what you thought was sighs. They gasped and breathed out a long breath filled with shock and excitement. Your pussy was slightly darker than you and was the prettiest pink once Meryl opened you up for the camera, camera men, directors, and Co-stars to see. Your hole was small meaning you were definitely a virgin and was gonna be heard to get inside. Luckily, Aizawa is going first. He knew he was going to have to go slow inside you and that’s more than enough to make him hard again. He couldn’t wait to open you up for the guys to fuck you as well.

Your hole was practically winking at the camera as it showed your pussy clenching and unclenching onto the cold air. The air felt so good on your warm, wet pussy and you were so into your thoughts that you didn’t realize that your hips were wiggling causing your ass to jiggle as well. Anytime you moved, your ass jiggled and they all loved it.

Soon the director got three more shots of you in different positions, one was you and Meryl watching tv with your stomachs on the bed and legs kicked up behind you, before they called the co-stars in the film over. You sat up when they all walked in the room. Toji was the first to walk to you and kissed you with no hesitation. The director's eyes widened at the straight forward call Toji made. The others sighed in annoyance at Toji doing what he wanted.

Your lips locked with Toji in a slow passionate kiss, a kiss the camera man was glad he got. Thing is, Toji wasn’t supposed to actually kiss you. He was supposed to hover his lips over your two-toned pink lip gloss ones. He broke the kiss with another peck lingering as he finally pulled away from you. Your foreheads pressing together as his green eyes looking into {your color} eyes,” So fucking pretty for me right now, couldn’t wait to see you.”

“ Yeah yeah you aren’t the only one in this scene so move over.”, Benimaru says as he stroked his cock through his pants. You looked over at him with puffy lips and pretty eyes. He was actually happy that they chose you for this scene, you’re the only one that could keep his dick hard especially with the look you’re giving him.

Aizawa came up behind Toji and sat on the bed next to you to place subtle kisses on your neck and ear, “ He’s right, {reader}. You look stunning can’t wait to see your facial expressions as I fuck you.” You gasped and that earned you to get Yuushi’s cock in your face creating the perfect shot like you were surprised by his size and indeed you were. He was long and girthy with two veins running across his dick. The pink mushroom tip looked so suckable especially with the pre-cum dripping down his tip and onto the top of your tits in the tank top you were now being fondled in by Benimaru’s hand.

You brought your lips to Yuushi’s cock and looked up through your pretty eyelashes causing him to run a hand down his face whispering, “ Fucking Hell.” You looked so fucking pretty with his tip in your hot mouth. He snapped his fingers and curled two fingers in a gimme motion and the cameraman instantly brought the camera to him. Yuushi grunted when you swirl your tongue on his tip, still holding eye contact with him and now the camera pointed to your face. He snapped two photos before giving it back to the camera man, “ Sorry, I just had to get the most bed shot.”

Toji brought one of your tits out of the tank top and flicked a tongue over it making sure the camera captured it. You were about to bring your hand to your mouth to stop your moan when Aizawa grabbed it and continued to suck and lick on your neck. Benimaru dropped down in between the opening of your legs since Toji and Aizawa were on both sides of you.

Another cameraman focused on getting Benimaru pulled your panties to the side, inhaling your scent and almost growling like an animal. He never thought to make that sound before but he couldn’t resist. He wanted and needed you now, so he brought his lips to your pussy and used two fingers to open you up to him revealing your pink clitoris. He placed his pink muscle on your clit causing you to jump and moan around Yuushi’s cock again. He got on top of the bed and placed his cock back into your mouth throwing his head back like he did a fresh line of coke. He needs you badly. He wanted to stuff his cock down your throat and tell you to take it like a good girl.

The director wasn’t even calling the shots anymore, instead he was watching the chemistry you brew between all these men and he loved it. It was great for the scene you all were engaging in. It’ll look a little real. The director told the cameramen to get four more pictures prior to having the men separate from you and Meryl to get back on set. She looked so red and sweaty which meant she was either getting her pussy eaten by Nemuri or fingering herself to the scene. She got you dressed again and fixed you up to make you more presentable. The men only had you lingering in their thoughts as two of them paced back and forth in the other room in this big ass apartment type room.

Shouta and Benimaru were sitting down at the card table while Yuushi and Toji vented to them about how much they needed and wanted you.

“ Did you see the way she looked at me, she doesn't know what she’s doing.”, Yuushi says to himself, the tent in his pants visible to all of them— not that they minded.

“ Fuck that, did you see them juicy ass tits. Can’t wait to fuck them. Can’t wait to fuck her. How long is this scene again?”, Toji asks, stopping at the foot of the table.

Benimaru sighed and shook his head at the thought of you, “ It’s supposed to be an hour long, why? Got somewhere to be Toji.” Toji used to always roll his eyes at Benimaru calling him Toji instead of Fushiguro since he’s older than Ben but he learned to accept his rebellious ways.

“ No, I’m just planning on taking her after the scene.”, Toji says and the others look at him with glares. All speaking at the same time.

“ Nope.”

“ Na uh.”

“ Not gonna happen.”

Toji smirked at them, “ Who’s gonna stop me? She’s the only one that can, the rest of you don't matter.”

Meanwhile, back to where you’re at, they handed you the script to go over it again. You didn’t need a fluffer so they just told you to go over the script with Meryl again and you did, for about an hour. You knew it was probably 5 pm right now since it was 2:55 when you first got here.

You memorize your lines inside of your head like you had photographic memory— you didn’t. So far you were glad you only had a couple of lines to say before you got to the scene.

“ Are you ready, pretty girl? No need to be camera shy or nervous. In fact, I don’t think you should even be camera shy considering earlier, darling. Maybe we could do some scenes together in the future.”. Midnight said coming up to you and Meryl.

You blushed and you could feel the heat on your ears and cheeks, “ Oh please. That was light work, this is the real deal now. If I like the scenery then yes we can have scenes in the future. Just know so far I’m loving it.”

Midnight smiled at you before placing a kiss on your cheek, making sure to wipe the lipstick off afterwards.” such a newbie response, well welcome to the team, honey.”

She walked away from you and Meryl but not before kissing Meryl on the lips. Meryl blushed a deep red and you couldn’t help but to giggle at her. You could tell she fancies Nemuri.

Nemuri walked past all the directors and such taking their places and finally walked past the men on her way out, “ Such a gorgeous girl, treat her right because I want a scene with her next.” With that she left and left them in confusion and curiosity.

You on the other hand were getting ready to shoot the scene and you’ll go on in 1 minute.

“ Okay so go over it one more time. Okay, hey wanna spend the night over my house, my step dad isn’t gonna be home so it’ll be just the two of us.”, Meryl says with more expression and tone in her voice.

You nodded your head, “ Yeah sure my feet are killing me and I do not want to walk back home. First though, are we watching scary movies?”

“ Hell yeah, I have all the scream movies, Micheal Myers, and even got..’ then we get interrupted by Yuushi cutting in and you lock eyes with him and that’s how the chemistry moves throughout the film. Seeeee it’s easy you have nothing to worry about.”, Meryl says as she smiles at you.

You smiled back at her and got into position just a little bit behind the threshold of the door . You weren’t inside of the set up room any more although you missed it, you’ll see it again in no time. Your back was to it for now.

“And action!”, Gido yelled.

You both smiled at one another as you “walked out” the room. Meryl turned to you, locking eyes with you. Her eyes were filled with reassurance letting you know to not be nervous. “ Hey, wanna spend the night. My step dad isn’t gonna be home tonight so it’ll just be me and you tonight. You can’t say no because you’re wearing the right kinda clothes too.”

You smiled and nodded your head, “ Yeah sure, I would love to ask a question, are we watching scary movies tonight?”

The director smiled once you got the lines right and the tone right. You were definitely gonna be his favorite to work with if you actually want to pursue this career.

“ Hell yeah we are. In fact, I have scream 1, scream 2. Scream 3, is there a scream 4?” to which you shrugged at as expected, “ Ah just know I have a collection of scream movies and Micheal myers. Hell, I even got—”

“ got what?”, Yuushi asks as you two walk in the dining room area.

You eyed him like they told you to do and he eyed you back. The director pointed to you to zoom in on your eyes and how they seductively pulled the audience and Yuushi in. Gido whispered to himself, “ A fucking star.”

“ What are you doing here? You said you weren’t going to be here tonight.” Meryl walked over to Yuushi, standing before him.

“ I don’t get a hey, hello, how was your day dad, etc.”, Yuushi says to Meryl before looking at you still standing far from him to eye him. Yuushi smirked at you and said a line that wasn’t in the script, “ You’re so gorgeous.”

“ Cut!”, the director says, bouncing up out of the chair, “ You know damn well that wasn’t the line Yuushi. Do we need a five minute break or something?”

Yuushi chuckled and scratched the back of his head, “ You can’t expect me not to say out of pocket shit when you have someone like {reader} in front of me. So no, we don’t need five minutes just cut that out of the video and voilà, you got a deal. Come on, Gido. I wanna get to the fun part.”

The director pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “ Run it again. Action!”

Yuushi got right back into that smug expression on his face and nodded his head to you, “ Who’s this? I didn’t know you had friends coming over.”

Meryl waved you over to them and you walked over to them, greatly showcasing an anxious emotion on your face and the director and the four cameramen were living for it. You truly had the pornstar look and acting packed down so far. But for you, it wasn’t an act, you truly felt anxious as you stepped closer and closer to them.

Meryl grabbed your hand as she eagerly sucked in her lollipop before handing you one from the bowl on the table they were sitting at. You didn’t know if you should eat it or not but you took a gamble and popped it into your mouth, slow and smoothly. Still holding eye contact with Yuushi as you did it. The camera captured all of it especially when you heard the whisper yells of the director, “ Get in on her. That shot is amazing up close.” “ Yeah, just right. Just perfect.”

“ Remember the friend I told you about, well this is her….”, Meryl says, debating if she wanted to use your real name or not. That’s what you forgot, a pornstar name. She used her ownl name but what would you do? Did you want a new name or stay using your government name?

“ Ah fuck! Cut!!”, the director got out of his chair again. “ I know you’re stuck because of the name so quickly find a pornstar name you think fits best for yourself and I want you two to come up with a name that fits her as well. Tacky and late but we could make it work. Work with me, people!”

How about {reader first name} Valentine! It sounds great and moanable.”, the makeup artist shouted out. You stood there in disbelief of how fast she came up with that. The director snapped his fingers at her and turned to you, "you make the call because it’s gonna be your name you’d have to stick with if you’re gonna actually pursue this career, darling.”

You thought about it and nodded your head because it did sound good and your name was already moanable, you knew because it’s been moaned so many times by people in this industry when you catered to their needs before the shoot. Yuushi smiled because he was glad you kept your first name. He wanted the world to know he’s moaning his dream girl name.

“ Alright! That settles it. Meryl take it away!”, Gido yelled as he sat back down in his chair now eating a cake they handed him.

Meryl snapped back into action, “ Remember the friend I told you about, this is her. { reader} Valentine.” She smiled at you before looking excitedly at her “ Step dad”.

“ Yoshi. It’s nice to meet my daughter's friends.” Yuushi, who goes by Yoshi Mack on the scenes, stuck out his hand for you to shake. You followed his action and held and sucked on the lollipop with the other hand. The more you stared at him, the more his dick was getting hard. Your eyes were perfect and beautiful for the scene. Yuushi turned to Meryl, “ I’m surprised you’re not at the dorm this weekend.”

Meryl rolled her eyes, “ Yeah. No. Not this weekend plus I miss my bed. The dorms are small and dumb. Anyways, don’t bother us while you’re here. Kay? K.” Meryl took your hand and dragged you away, the camera capturing the way your ass jiggled and another one captured Yuushi’s reaction.

“ And scene! Great job everyone! Especially you, my beautiful new star.”, Gido says as he comes up to you to hold your face like a delicate vase in his hands. He was a good looking guy up close. Long black hair, Dark gray eyes, and a toned but slender body.

You were supposed by the sudden gesture and felt a hand on your lower back, “ Let the girl go, Gido. You’re making her uncomfortable by squishing her cheeks like that.” It was Benimaru's voice and you wondered how long he was watching you act. You turned to him in surprise before smiling at him. He nodded his head and looked away from you in fear of showing his cheeks getting pink.

Gido dropped his hands and snarled at Benimaru before speaking, “ Just do your scenes. You, my darling, could prepare to interrupt their scene and get ready to lose the most valuable thing you should hold close to you. If at any point you want to tap out of this. We will. Granted it’s gonna be a hassle taking pictures and doing scenes again but, we could make it work with the next star.”

“ I will definitely let you know, Mr.Gido. Now excuse me while I prepare for this scene.”, You said as you smiled at him before walking off. Beni watched as his eyes followed your ass as you walked away and he purposely knocked his shoulder into his as he walked to the table to sit down. He didn’t want anyone looking at his girl, even if you aren’t his official girl.

You, on the other hand, were pacing back and forth memorizing your lines as you read them over. You didn’t want to mess up not once just like you did in the first scene. You were kinda glad, Yuushi was the only one that changed his name because remembering four new names was gonna be a hassle. You also had to think and couldn’t believe your first scene was gonna be your first gang bang scene and on top of that, you’re a goddamn virgin. Three freshly new things you were gonna be stripped of. The nervousness that comes with this is kicking in and you’re not feeling it. Meryl could see you slowly beginning to panic and immediately ran over to you to take you into her little dress up room.

“ Okay okay, I need you to breathe for me, don’t want you to go into a full panic attack right now.”, Meryl says as she grabs a paper to fan you with rather rapidly too. You nodded and started doing your counting as you breathed in and out. Slowly your heart was getting back to normal and your head was released from the tension it was starting to get. Tightness slowly going away from your muscles as well.

Once Meryl saw that you calmed down a little, she hugged you from behind. Trying to fully wrap her small arms around your body to engulf you into a warm hug. She kissed your head and whispered that it’s gonna be okay and she’ll be right there. All you needed to hear. Out of everyone here, she was your comfort. Weirdly enough since you never really spoke to her until today.

After ten minutes of silence and calm breathing, you were ready to get this over with. You wanted to go home to think about your decisions and etc. a peace of quiet time for you is always at night. You thanked Meryl as she walked you back to the bedroom where you two are gonna pretend to be asleep since it’s technically in the middle of the night in this scene.

You two laid in the surprisingly comfortable bed facing each other. She looked into your eyes and you giggled at the closeness between the two of you. “ This is so awkward.” She laughed and nodded her head, “ Good thing, we just gotta close our eyes while those buffoons are as loud as they usually are.”

You smiled at her joke and she realized you relaxed and closed your eyes for the scene. Your breathing was calm and slow as if you were really sleeping. She made a note to compliment you on that later because she was impressed. She studied your movements and did the same. The director yelled action and everyone started their roles. The room was dark, you could tell from your eyes being closed.

You heard Toji’s voice yelling, “ I won! It’s over! It’s over!” You heard the card being placed on the table roughly and moved to make it seem like you were waking up. The director pointed at you telling the cameraman to capture you waking up very closely.

“ Oh screw you, you fucking cheated, dick face.”, Benimaru says improvising that last word making Toji chuckle knowing that he meant to say that.

Aizawa grunted as the chair scraped across the floor making more noise, “ I’m gonna go get another beer, don’t have time for this.” You noted that he was just his regular self here, surprisingly that was helpful to know.

Yuushi grunted and took out a cigarette, lighting it up and inhaling and exhaling the smoke prior to speaking, “ Oh please, he didn’t win shit. He cheated.”

You groaned and rubbed your eyes as you got up from your “sleep”, putting your cute fuzzy house shoes on and making your way out the room and down the hall and stairs— going into the living room.

Toji was the first to notice your presence and smirked, “ And who is this? Never knew you were into younger girls, Yoshi.”

You stared at him as Yoshi spoke, “ No she’s my daughter's best friend. So keep your dirty paws and eyes off her.”

“ No, let her speak. What is your name, rudeness?”, Benimaru asks as he eyed you up and down.

“ It’s {reader} Valentine. Who’s asking?”, You ask with an attitude they told you to have after being woken up from your sleep. You nailed that perfectly because the camera and the director could see Benimaru was beginning to become irritated.

Benimaru scoffed, “ You’ll know my name soon enough. I ask the questions here, not you.”

“ Well I would like to know who’s asking the questions, where's the harm in that?”, You asked with a hand on your wide hip.

“ She’s a bratty one. Tell me, sweetheart. Were we too loud for you? Told Toji to stop being loud anyways.”, Aizawa says, coming back into the room with a beer in his hand. His long hair was tied back into a man bun and his joggers were black and baggy. The shirt that clung to his sleeper build was everything you needed to see to get a surge of confidence.

“ Yesh you were, so could you please keep it down. I’m trying to sleep sir.”, You said as you rubbed your eyes and yawned. It was a real one too, most could see it was and the director was stunned because how can someone yawn on accident right on cue too. He was amazed at you so far.

“ Make us be quiet.”, Yuushu said as he stood up. Walking slowly to you like a predator stalking its prey.

“ What?”, You asked as you stopped rubbing your eyes.

“ You heard me. Make us shut up cause otherwise I’m happy to make you stop complaining.”, Yuushi says as he stood before you looking into your eyes.

His smirk was getting to you and the way his voice was going lower and lower as he spoke making his voice deeper as well. You squeezed your thighs and shook your head before turning around only to get stopped by Yoshi’s hand on your wrist, he brought your back to his chest and walked you to the table presenting you in front of the men.

“ Come on pretty girl, make us shut up for the rest of the night.”, Yuushi whispers in your ear as he pressed your thighs to the table, making you place your hand on the table. Your body leaned causing your tits to jiggle in front of Aizawa low and dark eyes staring intensely at you.

“ What about Mer-”, You asked before Yoshi cut you off with his big veiny hand gripping your neck. Your head tilted back in response and he took the initiative and decided to kiss you on the lips causing your fingers to grip the table. The camera captured every single detail in this scene. The crew members were so silent that it seemed like you five were the only ones in this room and somehow you liked it.

Yuushi wrapped his bulky arms around you as he bit your lip causing you to gasp in which he stuck his warm, thick tongue in your mouth— swirling it around yours. He loved the taste of the flavor sucker you ate earlier, surprised it was still lingering on your tongue as well.

“ Fuck, her fucking tits are so damn pretty. Want to see them free.”, Toji said as he ripped the tank top you had on releasing your nipples into the cold air causing them to become hard. Aizawa’s dick needed to be free from his joggers before he burst inside of them. He didn’t know how you did it, but you always managed to make his cock hard without doing much.

Benimaru stood up to move the table out of his way of getting to you. Walking up to you, he gripped your boobs as you continued kissing Yuushi, moaning and whimpering into the kiss. The camera was catching all of this and everyone was too stunned to speak because everything looked real and passionate.

Benimaru swirled his tongue over your nipples while Toji bent down to slide your shorts off your hips and down your legs revealing your pretty ass pantries with a huge wet spot on them. He chuckled because he knew this was a raw reaction, you were soaking for them. The camera got up and close to reveal the wet spot to the audience as toji spread your legs apart.

Yuushi lets you breathe by breaking from the kiss but not before placing a sloppy peck on your juicy, wet lips. Yuushi smirked at your eyes getting watery and low, he never thought you would be a crier. Oh he and Aizawa are gonna love you. He whispered in your ear, “ Are you okay?” It was so low that the camera couldn’t even catch it. You nodded your head and he smirked, “ She’s sleeping so it’s just you and us here and now. Say the word. She won’t ever have to know, sweetheart.”

You whimpered and nodded your head to which earned a small smack from Aizawa standing on the side of you and Yuushi. “ Need your words. Need to hear you say them like the little slut I know you are.”

You loved the small, rough slap on your cheek and his eyes widened, in fact, all of their eyes widened. You were a little masochist, an undercover one at that. “ I want you. I want your cocks, pleaseeee.” All four of them smirked before Yuushi picked you up bridal style to take you into his set up bedroom, the camera crew was already set up at. The director followed after the First camera crew capturing them all walking up the stairs with you— built suspense. The director knew it was out of his hands for now because of how real and passionate everyone was, which makes him think you all secretly wanted this to happen at some point. He just sat down and drank his coffee as he watched the scene now show you being thrown on the blue covered bed as you giggled. You all went off script a long time ago so he just let this happen.

The second camera crew got the reaction of biting your lip at the men taking their clothes off price by piece— leaving their draws on. You frowned and pouted as you were deprived from seeing their dicks. “ I want all of you. Every single inch of you guys.” You pointed at their draws and the camera crew followed your movements, “ this isn’t giving me what I wantttt.”

“ You’re a whiny little thing aren’t cha?”, Toji Said as he rubbed a finger over your nipple. He reached up to your chest to play with your nipple.

”We don’t care what you want now, lay back and shut up. You wanted us to shut up and you can’t even do that. Disgraceful.”, Benimaru says as he climbs on top of you. You looked at him with your eyes and he almost came right then and there. You opened your mouth and he hurried and took his hard thick cock out of his underwear and shoved it to the back of your throat causing your eyes to water and your gags to be heard violently. You loved the way you were gagging around his cock. Shit everyone loves the way you sound.

“ Yeah that’s it, pretty girl. You’re doing so good for us.”, Benimaru says as he takes his cock out of your mouth. The spit disconnected as he took his dick out your mouth to let you breathe. “ Have you learned your lesson yet?”

You shook your head and gladly opened your mouth to take him inside of your mouth again and he gladly stuck his dick in your mouth again. You felt your panties being slipped off and as they slipped them off, your pussy was drenched in your wetness. You felt on top of the world as you experienced pleasure from all directions. The juiciness of it all was everything Aizawa needed. The camera as well.

Aizawa stuck his tongue out to lick a stripe of your pussy and groaned at the taste of your pussy on his tongue. He placed French kisses on your pussy before opening up your folds with two fingers and diving into eating and slurping on your pussy. The sexual sounds he brought out of you was everything Benimaru needed. Every moan vibrated on his dick and he loved it. You had a crazy lock jaw on his cock as well. The hollow of your cheeks was being gathered on camera and the viewers were gonna love that.

Aizawa moaned as he tongue fucked your pussy with rapid speed. The circling of his tongue was deep inside of your pussy and he knew you loved it when your dick sucking and moaning sound grew louder— that’s how he knew you were close too. Aizawa didn’t really know what to expect when he made you cum. Was you a squirter or creamer, either way he’s gonna drink and suck it up. He didn’t care, he wanted your taste to last and linger in his tongue.

Aizawa placed a finger on your pussy hole as he sucked and swirled his tongue over your clit. His finger was so thick and long that it started to hurt you as he moved it on the inside. You placed your hands on Benimaru’s thighs to let him know that you needed to breathe and he smacked them away to which your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were living the way he treated you but down below, you were slowly opening up your hole for Aizawa to finger you. Granted it still hurts just a little bit but somehow it felt good as well.

“ shit! She’s hugged around my finger like a damn coat. So damn beautiful.”, Aizawa says before pulling back to spit on your pussy and your hole while Yuushi and Toji held your legs open as they stroked their cocks to the sounds your mouth and pussy makes.

“ Holy fuck, Aizawa. Hurry up, I want to taste her too.”, Toji says in desperation. Aizawa moved over and made room for Toji in between your legs. Toji gladly accepted it and now both of their tongues and aizawa’s finger was fucking your pussy so good.

Your tits jiggled as you tried to move your hips up and down. Benimaru hair was sticking to his face as he fucked in and out of your mouth creating little spit bubbles as he did it. The faster he fucked your mouth, the wetter your mouth got. The bubbles were proof of that. Snot was even making its way down your nose, luckily Yuushi wiped it in time for it to get Benimaru's dick in your mouth, not that he cared. He loved when bitches got messy for him.

Your tears only added to his euphoria as he pisoled into your mouth. His dick created a throat bulge as he moved in and out, “ Oh shit! Fuck! Such a disgusting bitch taking my dick like this. Uhhhn.”

You needed to wrap your hands around something as you got your pussy devoured by two men who were locking tongues as they licked and slurped up your juices. The camera captured every last one of yall from how spacious this room is as well. It was Yuushi’s designed room.

You wrapped your hand around Yuushi’s cock dragging it up and down just like you always do when you were a fluffer. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you did the twist he always loved. “ Shit, that’s it, baby girl.”

You continued to stroke him as both Toji and Aizawa sucked on your clit who tried to both do it at the same time and somehow it felt so damn good, good enough to scream on Benimaru’s cock inside of your mouth. Your spit was layering his cock just right, some of your spit dripped down your mouth and onto his balls and your chest. You were sloppy and he loved it. Loved it enough to cum with two more strokes. You on the other hand squirted on toji and aizawa’s lower half of their face. Aizawa gladly opened his mouth to catch some of it, while Toji was sucking it into his mouth.

“ Ahhh. Fuck, { reader}. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Hughhh.”, Benimaru fucked your mouth one more time as his cum flowed down your throat. It was warm and a little gooey. Other than that it tasted healthy.

Benimaru stayed there staring at your mascara rubbing down your face with your tears and knew you were perfect for this role. He even managed to stay semi hard in this role. Usually when he came that was it. You were someone special.

Benimaru got off of your as he stroked his cock to make himself fully hard and it worked because he was staring at your tits thinking about fucking them while you get pounded by the rest. Yuushi stopped your hand before he could cum. While, Toji and Aizawa kissed your pussy one last time as you panted and whimpered from the contact.

“ So fucking good.”, Toji grunted out as he slipped his undergarment down, revealing his heavy and long cock. Aizawa did the same, revealing his long and semi-thick cock. Fuck they were all huge and too much for you.

“ Wait.. I’m a virgin.”, You say which was your line as well.

“ Don’t worry, we’ll take care of your tight virgin pussy.”, Yuushi says as he gives you a peck on the lips.

Aizawa dragged you down to his legs. He stood over your body, watching your chest rise up and down in anticipation of what’s happening next. He looked at Yuushi, “ You’re okay if I go first, Yoshi.” He nodded and waved his hand, “ Don’t care I just wanna break this brat down.”

Aizawa placed his cock on your pussy and the lone camera man who took photos captured that moment perfectly while on the sidelines. Aizawa breathed in and out as he slowly moved his cock up and down your pussy giving you a pussy job. You moaned as your back arched off the bed. Toji knew you needed a distraction from how bad it’s going to hurt so he kissed you and Benimaru and Yuushi followed the lead. Aizawa nodded at them, basically thanking them for easing your mind. He didn’t want to hurt you or see you hurt. Neither did they.

Aizawa held your lower stomach with one hand as he guided his bulbous tip into the opening of your pussy. He slowly pushed in and your eyes snapped open and began to water. It hurts so much. Aizawa knew your hymen wasn’t broken yet so he was gonna have to ease more of him into you. And he did. Pushing into you felt so good and tight, he almost couldn’t move from how tight your pussy is. “ Fuck, hold on for me, sweetheart.”

Toji swirled his tongue inside of your mouth as he kissed you, he rubbed your neck with his hand as he did. He wanted you to know that you’re okay right here with them. You’re safe as well and you got the hint only when Yuushi whispered, “ ease up for him brat, you’re safe so don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Aizawa leaned down to kiss the upper part of your stomach to let you know he cares for you. Aizawa felt more liquid dripping down his cock and stood up again to look down and see the blood meaning your hymen was officially broken.

He slowly moved inside of you until he was hurried to the hilt, “ Fuck, this pussy is so tight and warm. I could stay in this forever.”

Toji kissed and licked your tears away from your face as Aizawa started to fuck you slow and passionately. He swatted your hand from pushing him away and started to move A little faster inside of you when you opened up to him. The director sat up and pointed to your hole being fucked open by Aizawa’s big dick. You were moaning so loud in Toji’s mouth. The blood was slowly disappearing and changing to your normal juices, which means he could go faster now.

Aizawa’s hands gripped your thighs, finger nails digging into your thick flesh as he fucked into you faster. His dick was just one cm away from your cervix and he took that as an opportunity to go even faster.

Your pussy was clutching around his dick making everyone’s eyes widen as he pulled back to let everyone see how much you gripped on to him. Fuck, everyone was in love with the way your pussy looked on and off camera. It’s like you were made for taking cocks like theirs.

“ Daddy, oh my goddduhhhn, it feels so good.”, You moaned out once Toji let you breathe. Aizawa paused and sharpened his eyes, “ Daddy huh, what happened to sir or was that all an act. Such a naughty girl.”

Your tits were moving up and down so prettily and your stomach was moving as well. You were so damn pretty to all of them.

“ I’m sorry, please fuck me sir, daddy, I don’t care just fuck me!”, You moaned out as you stared down at where you two were connected. He was living in and out so beautifully. You sat up on your elbows and he took that as an opportunity to spread your legs further and yank your hair into his hands, getting a good grip to fuck you as he held onto your hair so tightly that it added to your pleasure, weirdly enough.

The way you bit your lip to hold back a moan told everyone else that you enjoyed the way he was fucking you. Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head and you almost looked possessed as you babbled incoherent sentences and pleas.

Yuushi grabbed the lube out of the dresser and put some on the anal toy before bending down to place it inside of your hole, opening you up slowly. You screamed at the feeling of your second hole being opened up, “ It hurts. It hurts.”

Aizawa bent down to kiss you as he fucked into you. In between the kisses were whispers of reassurances, “ I know baby” “ Open up for Yoshi slowly for me.” “ Breathe”

Aizawa lifted his sweaty upper body off yours and had his hand still gripped into your hair giving you two more strokes until he let go of your hair causing you to fall on the bed and arch your back.

The sting was a little bit still there but it felt good when Aizawa swirled his hips making his cock swirl in circles inside of you. “ hnghhh fuck, I want more. Wan’ cocks. Need your cocks” they have officially broken their pure and innocent { reader} and they loved it. You were now a babbling slut who’s about to sleep all of their cocks inside of your hole.

Aizawa pulled out a bit so the camera could see how fluttering your hole is and the shape it was forming now. The butt plug looked so damn good on camera too. Aizawa tapped your pussy with his cock one time and pushed inside of you, now climbing on top of the bed. His hands gripped your legs and held them up so he could press you into a mating press. Yuushi pulled the butt plus out slowly and you moaned inside screaming meaning your hole was semi prepared to take his cock.

Yuushi bent down to spit on your ass hole prior to sticking his tongue out to lick around the ring. You shuddered and tried to move up and down since Aizawa stopped a bit to let Yuushi inside of you behind him.

Yuushi then shoved his tongue inside, savoring your taste and loving it. You never got your pussy and ass eaten until today. They were so damn freaky and nasty. You liked it.

Yuushi stood up and placed the tip of his cock on your hole prior to putting a little lube on his cock. He pushed in slowly and your scream got captured on Toji’s cock in your mouth as he stood on the side. His cock was shoved down your throat and your moans were muffled, “ Oh yeah, this mouth so fucking good, suck me just like that whore.”

Your tongue swiped back and forth under his dick and over his vein makjj in my him stagger just a bit, “ A vixen. A fucking vixen with a mouth like a vice.”

“ Pussy too.”, Aizawa says as he went back to fucking your pussy. White and pink juices from the blood and cream were beginning to form around his cock and he loved it.

“ Ass too. The Tightess pussy and ass we haven’t fucked in years. Shit!”, Yuushi says as he fucked into your ass more faster now. You were in love with how Aizawa was holding your legs down while his balls bounced against your ass. You were sure that his balls were touching Yuushi’s cock fucking your ass open and yet neither of them cared. You liked that as well. You were in love with how Toji’s dick was moving in and out of your mouth, when he went out of your mouth he circled his hips before snapping into your mouth creating lewd noises you knew was gonna make so much noise when this video dropped.

Benimaru was getting a hand job from you and that was almost enough. He knew Aizawa was on the verge of cumming and he was gonna slide right into you when he pulled out. “ She looks so slutty, you make me wanna fuck you all day and night.”

“ No fucking breaks.”, Toji grunted out as he looked down to see your fucked out face taking their cocks.

“ Unless you yell the safe word, strawberry. Wanna fuck you until you can’t walk no more.”, Aizawa says as he fucked you three more times, “ Oh fuck, that’s a good girl for making me cum. Shit!”

You moaned when you felt him empty himself inside of your fluttering hole. Aizawa laid on you for 6 swings before slowly pulling out. Your legs were shaking and Toji slapped it making you cry out. In response he chuckled, “ We ain’t done.”

Just when you thought to relax your legs, Benimaru climbed up on the bed and position his dick over your hole and pushed in, loving the way your mouth detached from Toji’s cock or scream out, “ Aughhhnn keep fucking me, Mr. Yoshi and sir.”

The director was astonished that you acted like you didn’t know Benimaru name as you got fucked by him. You were still trying to follow the script and he admired that. Oh, how you are gonna be fun to work with.

Benimaru slapped your tits as he slammed his dick up and down into your pussy, “ It’s Benimaru to you. Fuckkk-ahhh, you’ve been holding this pussy back from me and I don’t like it.” You whimpered because you were so turned on and still you needed more cocks. You brain was even turning to mush as Yuushi and Benimaru kept fucking into you. Both moving at a fast pace.

“ I- I haven’t pleaseuhhhh. Keep fucking like that, get me pregnant. Hahhh breed me.”, You were moaning those words like you meant it and you didn’t but they thought you did so they went even harder.

Nothing but groans, moans, and skin slapping sounds were echoing around the room. This felt so surreal to everyone watching and involved. You were so busy getting fucked out that you couldn’t see, the crowd of people watching you take all of their cocks now since Toji had his thighs on each side of your head, drilling into your mouth and Aizawa had your hands playing with his wet and cream filled cock.

The crowd consisted of the directors, crew members, and other co-stars like Touya, Eren, Levi, Obi, Konro who was smiling, Mirko, Midnight, Gojo, Mic, Miche, Shoko, Etc. they were enticed by how pretty you sounded and how real it sounds.

They all loved the way your body responded to these four. Benimaru gripped your boobs as he fucked your pussy, kissing the cervix so painful but good. You felt like an onahole and you never thought you would’ve liked that feeling.

“ Fuck I think I’m gonna cum. She’s such a fucking good girl. Shit, I’m cumming baby.”, Yuushi groaned as he fucked and came into your now gaping hole. Granted it was small but it was still gaping.

Benimaru nails were digging into your boobs making your groan in ecstasy, his body was so sweaty and red and he knew your legs were hurting and shaking but that only added to his pleasure of knowing he’s making you this way, he showed off when he swirled his hips and bounced one more time before cumming inside of your pussy, “ That’s it, lemme breed this pretty pussy, isn’t that what you wanted.” He smirked when you nodded your head as you came in his dick from his pounding and Yuushi’s pounding. You came at the same time Toji came.

“ Fuck this fucking mouth, ha hughhhnnn. Fuck!”, He yelled as he slammed his dick in your mouth, staying there for a minute. It looked like you were suffocating for a bit before he slid his soft cock out of your mouth letting you breathe.

Benimaru slid his cock out of your pussy letting the camera catch his, Aizawa’s, and your white fluids leak out of your abused pussy.

Yuushi did the same, not prior to slapping your ass making your whimper at the contact. Your ass felt sore and your pussy and legs did as well.

Aizawa came on your face almost catching your eyes, “ Fuck, came two times today. Fuck!”

You panted as the camera leaned over your head to get a shot of your fucked out face and body before the camera man threw his thumb up letting everyone know it’s a wrap.

Everyone smiled and congratulated you on shooting your first ever porno as Toji was wiping you down. You whispered tiredly, thank you, making Toji smile at you. Toji then picked you up and the rest of the men followed him out the room and down the stairs to the other main door and out the scene room completely.

“ where are we going?”, You tiredly asked as you felt your body going up and down as he walked to the bathroom. The bathroom with the bath and shower thankfully.

“ We gotta get you a clean and comfortable doll, can’t have you passing out because of the lack of proper aftercare. So just lay back and relax.”, Tojii said as he handed you to Yuushi. You didn’t know how much these men lifted, but you knew it had to be a lot to carelessly carry you around.

You closed your eyes as you felt a kiss on your forehead and then another one on your cheek.

“ You did so well, sweet heart.”, Aizawa whispers.

“ nah I would say she did amazing for her first time with everything. Thank you for letting us be your first.”, Benimaru said and Aizawa nodded his head.

You smiled with your eyes closed, “ I made the right choice.”

They knew you were on your way to slumber but they smiled at what you said until they heard your phone buzz in your pocket. Toji, who had your clothes, took your phone out and read the text message.

“ Well well well, guess we’re all going to a dinner tomorrow boys.”, Toji says as he showed them the text your mother sent you as a reminder for attending her dinner so she could set you up with what should be your brother fling.

All of the men smirked, some let out a small one. Cough cough Aizawa. They were glad that finally got you and they weren’t planning on letting you go.

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི Bonus

“ Come on pretty girl, give me one more.”, Toji whispered in your ear as you sat on the bathroom sink in your parents house trying to cover your mouth. You didn’t want your parents to know how disrespectful you were being right now.

Your moans were muffled as he kept your legs spreaded for his entire body to fit inside of them. His dick felt so good with you wrapped around him. He almost wanted to pound you for hours using this same position, filling you up nonstop.

“ Fuuuchhhhmmm!”, your moans were gibberish and muffled to the point you thought you were learning a new language. Toji heard the squelching sounds your pussy made and grunted in satisfaction knowing he had their girl all to himself right now.

“ Give me what I want baby, let go for me and let me cum in that pussy of yours.”, he grabbed your neck with one hand and your hair with the other. Yanking your head back, he nipped at your neck desperately letting out his grunts and moans you were getting him to release from his throat.

“ I can’t. Ohhmmmm I can’t, I can’t.”, You maimed as your eyes began to water from how much the pleasure was taking a toll on your mind. His dick felt like it was punching inside of you with how loud the slapping of skin on skin was becoming much louder. His thrusts were building up in power and your pussy was getting more wetter.

Once he let go of your hair, still panting and moshing your name in your neck, he reached down to your fat pussy— rubbing your pussy in calm circular motions. You screamed into your hand once the water came spraying out your pussy whilst your body was shaking violently.

You could feel Toji smiling against your skin as his teeth grazed your skin. He knew he could make you do more and that’s what he was about to do as he pumped his dick inside you. When he pulled out, he’d drag his dick out slowly before pushing back inside of you while his hips moved in a circular motion. He’s too damn good and you knew you were about to cum.

“ i thought you said one more timeeeeahhhuhh.”, You maimed out as he continued to fuck and tease your soaking pussy.

Toji laughed in your neck before bringing his eyes to meet yours, “ my fault princess, I forgot. This pussy of yours is soul taking, can’t help it.” He stopped rubbing your clit and brought his hands to your ass, and grabbed it with both hands. Squeezing your ass in his large hands that had two cold silver rings on them, you were in heaven. Toji pushed all of his cock inside of your hole making your cream push out on his dick.

“ Fuck I’m gonna flood this pussy with my cum baby. Need to cum’ wanna cum. Fuahhhckkk.”, He moaned in your ear one last time before he came inside of your pussy shoving all of his thick ass size into your hole. He gripped your ass cheeks like he never wanted to let go, his eyelashes fluttered as he closed his eyes when he came inside of you. You felt his finger nails going into your ass and moaned at the impact and the feeling of him filling you to the brim. Both of you guys were panting and breathing loudly as the silence engulfed the bathroom.

Toji looked back down at you because he had his head tilted back a little. He admired your beauty for five seconds prior to kissing you. As you two swiped your tongues over each other, a loud bang was heard and Yuushi’s voice followed, “ Next time you two run off, make sure it’s not obvious. Now wrap it up because I have to pee and her father is wondering where she’s at. I think her mom knows what’s going on because she keeps directing the conversation whenever he asks and she also keeps smirking at all of us, it’s getting weird.”

You laughed against Toji's lips knowing very well why your mother was looking at them. She wanted to pick out the father of an unborn child she wants you to have. You couldn’t even think about inviting them because your brother insisted you did when you told him about losing your virginity to them. Toji chuckled and kissed your lips one last time, “ Thank you, princess.”

ᰔᩚ ━ Tagging: @dejtheauthor @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia and plenty more

ﾟ•┈© all right reserved to salaciousdoll, she does not give permission to steal, plagiarize, and translate.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I am a little creature largely made up of anxieties. There have been times in my life when it was worse. It’s currently significantly better. This story takes place at a time when it was pretty bad.

Food was a prison for me. I moved out early with very little idea of how to feed or care for myself. Every meal was a question mark. For three years I had Brendan doing most of the cooking but when things ended between us I moved in with some other friends. I suddenly had no way to feed myself again.

I was working at the sex shop and living with all my coworkers; a premise that would make sitcom writers weep. In that house, at the age of 24, I learned how to fry an egg. It was the only thing I knew how to do but by god, I mastered egg frying. I was so proud. I could now have one stress free meal a day of an egg on toast.

The problem was my roommates. Living with three other people is already tough but messes pile up alarmingly fast, especially in the kitchen. No one sees the whole mess as their responsibility but the one person who’s responsibility it absolutely wasn’t was mine, as I only ever cooked eggs. Glaciers moved quicker than the dishes got done, mountains of greasy unwashed dish ware were fixtures across the counters.

My friends occasionally cooked for me and each time I happily cleaned all the resulting dishes. This seemed fair.

But on my own I only used three implements for my egg. When I finished with my spatula, pan, and plate, I carefully washed them and set them to dry. Every time I came back to the kitchen there was nothing clean.

Crusted on ketchup, dried food, and unsavory residues plagued everything I needed to touch. So I ended up doing all the dishes twice, once to use my three implements and again once I was done.

I started to realize I’d come home, see the filthy pile of dishes, then go to bed without eating because I didn’t have the energy to wash it all. So I finally addressed my roommates about it. Please, I beseeched them, can these three things always be clean. I cannot function like this, and eating is already hard for me.

The answer returned: no. My request was deemed unreasonable and a counteroffer was made to turn off the small space heater I ran in my room in exchange for them magnanimously cleaning up after themselves. I declined, as my bones ached with cold everywhere except my room since no one else wanted the heat on. The impasse continued. I went to be hungry.

I noodled on it. I schemed. I plotted. And on my day off I went to a thrift shop and acquired a nice little pan and spatula. I squirreled them away into my closet. The plan was just to wash and dry it after meals and keep it in my room.

This is not how it went down. On day one of my pan coming home one of my roommates popped into my room to chat, glanced into my three quarters shut closet and immediately said, “What is that?”

I sighed and admitted my plan. All three roommates roundly condemned my plan as extremely passive aggressive. I tried once again to explain that I wasn’t eating, but my secret pan was now a source of contention, a precious resource held back from the collective.

Their discontent reached a fever pitch and I finally declared, “Fine! I will put my pan in the kitchen. On one condition. If I ever find this pan dirty, ever, I will scrape whatever is left on it into your bedding. I swear to god, if I ever come home to it being dirty there will be a reckoning.”

Terms were agreed.

The first month or two went okay. On the third month I awoke to eat breakfast and found my precious pan sullied. I grabbed it and marched upstairs. Betty was named as the culprit. I strode into Betty’s room and stood over her sleeping form like the vengeful ghost of dishes past.

“If you don’t get up and clean this right now I’m going to dump it on your bed.”

Betty groggily regarded me. “Seriously?”

“I have never been more serious.”

“It’s one time, can’t you just clean it yourself?”

“No. You promised.”

With much huffing and grousing Betty arose from bed and tromped downstairs, hastily cleaning my pan while I watched. “Happy?” She demanded.

I was. I made my egg, cheerfully cleaning the pan afterward, leaving it to dry.

[maedae-maedae]

Try It

☆ Monkey D. Luffy x F!Reader

☆ Genre: Fluff (possible future smut), Pining

☆ Warnings: N/A (for now)

☆ Contents: First Kiss, First Time, Innocence, Pining, Discovery, Oblivious Luffy, Friendship/Love

☆ Word Count: 4.5k

☆ Summary: You’ve long been pinning for your captain, maybe since the very first day you first set sail as a strawhat pirate. But knowing him, he’s never and probably will never show interest in anything romantic— let alone for you. Maybe you’ll always be destined to admire him from afar as he chases his dreams. Or maybe one silly little bet on a random night will change your relationship forever…

☆ A/N: you guys are never gonna believe this… im not actually caught up on one piece 🥀 think of this fic happening around the 400 episode mark?? there might be some things that wouldn’t make sense for later lore (i don’t know) and ofc were missing the last strawhat. the rating for this fic might also change later… im not sure if i wanna make this a smut fic or not, but for now its very wholesome :3

other than that, hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1 - The Bet

“I’m telling you, there’s no way in a million years!“ Nami tells you for maybe the thousandth time, leaning (a bit drunkenly) on the stair rail behind her as the two of you sit on the steps together.

“Wanna bet?” You ask her with a certain mischievous look. For a moment she looks a little surprised, then her expression slowly mirrors yours. You know how much she likes a good bet, especially when the odds seem to be in her favor.

“I like those odds. You’re on.” She tells you gladly. You know her too well.

“I want in too.” Zoro’s voice suddenly appears behind you two, making you both jump out of your skin.

“Jerk! Don’t sneak up on us like that!!!” Nami shouts, giving the green haired pirate a good smack on the head.

“Did you hear all of that?!” You ask directly after, a bit mortified because you’ve never told anyone but Nami about this. Though you suppose there are probably others on the ship who have caught on, you’re not exactly that subtle. Unfortunately.

“Yeah, and I’m with Nami.” He says easily, like his confirmation is not very embarrassing for you. “There’s no way you’re getting the captain interested in anything like that. I’ve never seen it once in my time sailing with him.”

“Exactly. That boy is totally unamused by the entire idea.” Nami agrees, “But honestly, I’d still like to see you try.”

You frown at both of them. You know all of this to be true, but you don’t like to admit it. You’ve been admiring and pinning for your captain all this time, yet ultimately knowing better than to actually pursue him. It’s like they said, he’s never really seemed much interested in the idea of romance , not to mention that he’s specifically never shown any of that type of interest in you . Romantically, that is.

You remember when he invited you into his crew, your vulnerable and crying self parallel to his bright-as-the-sun smile. He wanted you to sail with him, be by his side for the coming future. Despite it being the same thing he’d done for most your crew, for a moment it made you feel special, feel like a person who is capable of great things. It was that moment that you fell in love with him. You never had a chance really, you were hooked since your first day of pirating. Luffy gave you many things; confidence, bigger purpose in life, hope, friendship, sanctuary. But you selfishly crave more from him. Is that so bad? Maybe thats why you’ve never quite tried, feeling tied to the role you occupy in his life and the gratitude you should hold for him at all times.

But maybe today, just once, you can try to be a little selfish.

“…Fine. I’ll take both of you on for the bet.” You say, crossing your arms and doubling down (literally).

“Alright!! What are we thinking? Five hundred thousand berries?” Nami beams, a little too excited about this. Does she have that little faith in you??

“Five-?! What, each? Do you think Im rich?!” You gawk at her.

“I can accept a payment plan.” She shrugs.

“No, no.. I know you and your debts…” You mumble, side-eyeing her as you look away for a moment to think.

“Well, you don’t have to do the bet. If you’re that unsure of-“

“Alright, alright…” You quiet her before she can taunt you. “How about.. two hundred thousand each.”

“Two hundred fifty?”

“Fine.”

“Woo-hoo!” She throws her hands in the air and then turns to look at your crewmate. “Zoro? That sounds good for you?”

“Hell yeah it does.” He grins, folding his arms and leaning back as if he’s 100% sure of the outcome being that he’ll be two hundred fifty berries richer tonight.

“Ugh, you guys are the worst.” You groan and push yourself up to stand.

“Hey, you brought this upon yourself.” Zoro tells you and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Whatever. Get ready to lose.” You tell them with only partially-fake confidence, as you turn away.

“Good luck!” Nami waves to you with a smile despite you already walking away. “Oh this is gonna be good.”

“I’ll say.” Zoro grins at her.

As you make your way to Luffy across the deck, your heart does pick up a few paces. Glancing around, the others are busy thankfully. Chopper and Usopp are dancing around with Brook while he plays some quite fitting music for the situation actually. Upbeat but somehow romantic even without any type of lyrics. Robin is relaxing on the upper deck reading a book, franky probably keeping her company. You don’t see Sanji, you imagine he’d be inside preparing meals for tomorrow at this time. That’s good, he’d probably only interfere or worse; freak out if you were lucky enough to actually get anything out of this bet.

You take a deep breath as you set your sights back on Luffy, getting close. You just have to think of this as any other conversation with him, just be natural. He looks so cute, staring at a map at the top of the stairs on the opposite side of the ship from where you just were.

You approach your straw hat captain finally, feeling a bit more doubt than you were before suddenly. Not enough to make you back down, though. You got this.

“Hey Luffy!” You call to him right before you can take a seat across from him. He looks up at you from Nami’s map he was priorly investigating. His immediate smile at seeing you is contagious and it makes your heart flutter like usual.

“Hey, [Y/n]! What’s up?”

“What you doin’ with the map?” You ask him curiously and you both peer forward at it.

“Just thinkin.” He says simply, and you look at him curiously.

“I still can’t believe I’m really getting to sail the grand line with my crew. I wanna get as familiar with this map as possible.” He continues, still staring at it.

You smile fondly at him. You’re so happy he’s getting to achieve his dreams, and that you’re here to see it.

“You’re gonna be great when you finally become king of the pirates. I know it’s your destiny.” You tell him honestly and he looks at you a bit surprised before giving you his signature big grin.

“Thanks! I can’t wait!”

You continue to smile as he goes back to admiring this map. You’re happy to just sit with him like this, and suddenly you don’t even want to do what you came for and possibly ruin this moment. You glance up at the orange and green-haired pair watching you across the deck. They both give you a tipsy and somehow condescending smile. Nami gives you a thumbs up. They really don’t think you can do this.

“Hey, Luffy. Can I ask you something?” You speak suddenly, breaking the prior silence.

“Sure, anything.” He answers easily, still gazing down. Your heart flutters.

“It might be kinda weird.” You warn him and he finally glances up at you, attention peaked.

“Weird how?”

“I’m just curious..” You start, trailing off for a moment. You want to make this seem as natural as you can. Play it cool.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

“Huh??“ Comes his immediate surprise, his eyes widening a little. “Kissed someone? What, like, on the mouth?”

You giggle at his predictably silly reaction.

“Yes, on the mouth.” You confirm.

“No. Why would I? Seems gross.”

“Why’s that?”

“I dunno. Just does.”

Shut down.

Okay, you can still do this. Keep going.

“But don’t you think there’s a reason why so many people do it? Maybe it would feel good if it was someone you really liked, right?” You explain, trying not to be weird. Did that sound weird?

“Maybe. But I’ve never felt that way about anyone.” He shrugs, attention going back to the map.

Wow, okay. You have to admit that that one stung to actually hear out loud. You think you just might be down for the count after that. Ugh, you don’t really care about Zoro, but being in Nami’s debt does not sound fun. Why did you do this?

You gaze at the map again with Luffy, just continuing to have a bit of a pity party in your own brain.

“How would I even know, though?” He suddenly asks, drawing your attention back to him.

“Huh? Know what?” You ask.

“Know if I liked someone like that? How do people even know?”

You have to take a second to really think about that question. How do you explain the feeling to someone who’s supposedly never felt it?

“Well… You would probably think about them a lot, and want to be around them all the time, know everything about them, help them whenever you can. It would be the person you have the most fun with, like a best friend, but something more. They would make you really happy, and excited, but also nervous and anxious. You want to be better for them, always growing so you can protect them and care for them.” You list off things as you think about all the ways you know that you have feelings for him.

“A lot of that just sounds like stuff I feel for all my friends, though.” He frowns, confused.

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s pretty similar. But it’s definitely different.” You try to explain to him, though still contradicting yourself there. “You would probably just know. Someone who makes you feel different than anyone else. You think of them in different ways than you would with your friends. You’d want to do… romantic things with them. That kind of thing.”

“Huh…” He hums, putting his chin in his hand and looking off at the sea for a second to think about it.

The clear sky allowed for beautiful moonlight to shine down on the ship tonight. You stare at your captain as you admire him for the umpteenth time. You wish he would do the same for you, but you’re content enough with just getting to spend time with him like this, see him like this.

“Yeah.. I don’t think I’ve ever felt all that.” He says slowly, still gazing off. You ignore the ache this time and try to just be present in your conversation with him.

“That’s okay. Maybe you just don’t get those feelings. That’s totally fine.” You reassure him. It’s true, some people just don’t get feelings like that, aren’t able to. Maybe Luffy was like that. You’d considered it before.

“What?!” He shouts suddenly, whipping his head around to you. “That’s possible?! But I don’t want to miss out! If it’s so great like people say…”

His pouting pulls a short giggle out of you, and you turn to look at the sea this time. It looks so endless on nights like these. But the light reflecting off every surface around uou is certainly a beautiful sight.

“It’s not that great, really.” You sigh, wielding a bittersweet smile. “Honestly sometimes it’s kind of torture. But maybe you’ll still get to feel it one day, who knows? Maybe you just haven’t met the right person.”

It’s quiet for a few moments after that. You swear you can feel his eyes on you now, but you’re too afraid to look.

“So, you’ve liked someone like that before?” He asks you. You look back at him finally, a bit thrown.

“Well, yeah. Of course.”

He stares at you for a moment, that then turns into a lot more moments. So much time that it becomes kind of uncomfortable and you have to glance away. His face is stark blank, so you have no idea what this look means.

“Luffy?” You say cautiously, tilting your head a bit.

“Hm.” He hums, deciding to look back down at the map between you two. You frown, confused on whatever that just was.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin.” He answers simply, and so you don’t push any further. Whatever. Maybe he got lost in thought about something totally unrelated. Your captain is kind of unpredictable like that.

There’s another silence, though more comfortable this time. Moreso than the map now, you start to admire Luffy’s hands in front of you. The sight along with Brook’s distant piano music and the sound of the waves calmly moving, makes this moment feel so tender and serine. You want to keep it with you to remember when times get hard.

“Still though.. I can’t imagine that kissing anyone at all would be all that great.” He speaks suddenly once more, and your head perks up again. He still looks particularly focused on the map, despite continuing this unrelated conversation.

“Even if I liked them all special, like you said.” He adds and you blink at him.

Oh, you feel an opening here.

“You don’t think it would be nice at all?” You continue, pulling it a bit further.

“Not really.”

“Well…” You start, and you bite your lip to contemplate if you’re really about to say this. Can you?

“Then…” You keep going and, finally, he looks up at you again slightly. His big brown eyes are a weakness of yours truly. And you realize it might just be now or never.

“Do you.. wanna try?” You finally ask cautiously, giving him a smile despite your nerves.

“What, kissing? With who?” He asks, obviously not getting the hint.

This is it. You can feel it. Your confidence is starting to come back and you can still feel those two’s eyes on you from across the ship. You feel like they’re about to be in for a show.

“I can show you, if you want.” You offer sweetly, and you do enjoy the way his reaction flusters in surprise as he realizes what you meant. You hardly see him get embarrassed, or whatever this is.

“H-HUH?! WITH YOU?!” He shouts obnoxiously, grabbing the other’s attention for a moment. You just keep smiling at him.

“[Y/n], are you drunk?” He questions you, raising an eyebrow.

What the hell! Why would that be his first assumption?!

“I am not!” You scoff in defense, and honestly you forgot that that was even a factor. Though it probably wasn’t. You hardly drank much at all and it was a while ago now. This is just what you wanted, drunk or sober. Sometimes, when you got drunk, Nami had to keep you away from the captain so you didn’t embarrass yourself in front of the crew. Not the point.

“You don’t have to, obviously, if you’re not comfortable. I’m just saying, if you’re really curious…” You tell him and trail off. You find it hard to keep eye contact, eyes wandering off and then running back to him again.

He stares at you, and he seems to be actually considering this, to your surprise. You continue to watch him contemplate it. Your heart feels like it’s going a million beats a second now.

“…Alright.” He concludes, and you’re not quite sure what that means by this. You wait for him to continue.

“I mean, can’t hurt to try and say I did it, right? Then I’ll know I’m not missing out on anything.” He tells you and- oh my god this is really happening. He just agreed to kiss you. Your eyes light up. You’re so excited to not only win this bet, but also get to be Luffy’s very first kiss.

“Okay! You want to do it now?” You ask him, just to make sure (and maybe a bit too eager).

“Sure, why not?” He tells you, staring at you intently. It’s a bit strange the way he immediately got over his embarrassment from a moment ago, but then again that is very Luffy of him.

The truth is though, that Luffy is actually nervous deep down. This thing that everyone seems to value so much and is apparently so intimate and great. He’d never really seen the appeal. But now that he’s agreed to do it with you, it’s suddenly got his stomach all in knots, a weird queasy feeling mixed with antsy anticipation. Is that what you were talking about earlier?

The two of you kind of just stare at eachother for a moment or two.

“Uh.. so.. how do I do it?” He asks you genuinely, like he has to wait for your instruction.

You smile and try not to tease him for his question. It’s an understandable one for someone who’s never done this. You’ve only done with one person in the past, but that still makes you more experienced.

“Just do whatever feels natural. Oh, and close your eyes. It’s weird to stare at the other person while kissing.” You tell him and he nods in understanding, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks a slight pink. He shuts his eyes tightly and waits, and you cant help not to silently giggle while he can’t see you.

Wow, you’re really doing this. And just on the deck like this, too. You totally thought he’d want to go somewhere private or something. Though, now it seems obvious that he wouldn’t care enough to want to hide.

You take one last look at the two people who are totally about to be in your debt, making eye contact. They have no idea what’s going on, rather confused compared to their earlier confidence in your failure.

You give them a cute wink before turning back to Luffy and finally leaning to place a soft kiss on his lips. You’re honestly half expecting him to shoot backwards in disgust, but he doesn’t. He seems unsure for a second, just kind of staying still, but after a few seconds ends up leaning into it. You can already hear the others freaking out from a distance, more than just Zoro and Nami after their initial shout of disbelief. You smile against his lips at your win, and take in one last moment with him like this before you pull back. The moment is so sweet, you already know you’ll never forget it for the rest of your life, even if you never get to do this with him again. And you are simultaneously accepting that the likeliness of this never happening again is pretty high. At the end of the day, Nami and Zoro were still right, Luffy has no real interest in romance. Of course you knew that. Still, it’ve killed you if you didn’t try. And thank god you did.

What happens next surprises you, though. When you do start to pull back slowly… his lips only follow you. You break for less than a second before you’re connected again. He doesn’t want to stop, keeping the two of you together himself. You almost gasp, totally taken off guard by the way he seems to take charge. Didn’t he say he’d never done this? Why does this feel so good?

This changes everything. Before this was just some sort of trial, nothing special between the two of you, something you were sure he wouldn’t end up liking anyways. But now… you start to get excited. There’s butterflies in your stomach and suddenly you’re nervous. This feels ten times more intimate than it did originally, and assumingely everyone is just watching you guys have this moment.

This goes on for a few more moments, many moments longer than you had originally anticipated. Still, you take in every bit of it. You forget where you are or what even started this. All you can think is how good Luffy’s lips feel on yours. Your fingers somehow come to intertwine on the map below you at the same time, like your bodies are in sync. His hands are smooth like rubber, and warm against yours, just like his lips.

This is perfect. You don’t want to stop. You could do this forever.

You pull back only when you feel Luffy start to. Only a few inches, faces still close. You’re both blushing with heavy breath, but your expressions couldn’t be more different. Your eyes are blown wide, still in shock from what just happened, and-

The fact that Luffys expression is—for lack of better description— lusted out. You’ve certainly never seen him look at you like this before, and you have to cover your mouth with your hand before it goes agape right in front of him.

“Um..” you push out embarrassingly sheepish behind your palm. “So.. how was that?”

You most definitely already know the answer from all of his body language, but you’d still like to know what he’s thinking.

“You were right.. that felt good.” He tells you genuinely, slowly coming to his senses again.  A shiver runs up your spine by how smoothly and assuredly his words come out. Your face is still hot and he can’t stop staring at you. This is so unexpected, all of it. You weren’t ready.

“What about you?” He asks back suddenly.

“Me?”

“Yeah. It was my first time, so, how was I?”

“It was… really good. Are you sure that was your first time?” Your question is half joking and half genuine. You know that he’s definitely never done this before but seriously that felt way too incredible for your mind to really accept that fact. Luffy puts on a big grin after hearing your words.

“Hah! I was that good, huh?” He jokes, snickering. But his grin drops when he sees you’re not laughing with him, still with the same expression. “You okay?”

“Yeah! I’m great! Fine..” You assure him, sitting up straight again and finally letting your hand down from your face. As someone who’s had feelings for him for a long time now, and had already accepted that he’d never feel the same way, even while actively kissing with him. This has totally shaken you.

“LUFFYYYYYYY!!!!” Comes a familiar booming voice from your right. Uh oh.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING WITH MY PRECIOUS [Y/N]?! DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD TONGUE HER OUT ON THE DECK LIKE THIS AND GET AWAY WITH IT?!” He shouts as he grabs your captain by his vest and shakes him around.

“H-HUH?! TONGUE?! WHATS DO YOU MEAN?!” He shouts back, completely dazed and confused.

“DONT ACT OBLIVIOUS WITH ME! HOW DARE YOU CORRUPT HER PURE AND FRAGILE MIND WITH YOUR PERVERTED ACTIONS!! ARE YOU NOT ASHAMED?! YOURE HER CAPTAIN!!”

You stare in utter shock at those two, frozen in place. What can you even do here? Sanji is way too worked up for you to get a word in.

“BUT-SANJI-“ Luffy starts to protest.

“I DONT WANNA HEAR IT BUCKO. IM GONNA MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS YOU HEAR ME?!-“

“SANJI!!!” Nami’s incoming voice booms even louder from behind him before he can say anything else. She gives him a hard smack on the head, knocking him out cold. Your jaw drops, though you really shouldn’t be shocked at something like that at this point.

“So sorry to interrupt! Continue!” She insists quickly as she goes to drag Sanji’s now unconscious body away from you guys.

“Uh. That’s okay. I was planning on going to bed soon anyways, I’m tired.” Luffy speaks up, making her stop and bringing your attention back to him. He outstandingly quickly seems to have gotten over all that shaking and screaming from just now.

“Tell Sanji I’m sorry for whatever he was upset about when he wakes up, kay?”

He then promptly stands and begins to walk towards the quarters. Both yours and Namis eyes follow him.

“Oh, um.. sure. If you say so.” She says, sounding a bit confused.

“[Y/n].” He says as he comes to a brief stop, not far from you yet.

“Yeah?”

“Earlier all that stuff you described, I think I felt that just now… Does that mean I like you?” He asks without looking at you for some reason. Your eyes widen, his question ten times more intense than he makes it sound. You cant even believe what you just heard.

“I.. I wouldn’t know. Only you would know that..” You force yourself to say, even though you wish you could just tell him yes. But was that a form of confession or not? Luffy’s always been unique and done things differently, you doubt he’d ever confess to you normally if that were a possibility. Or, you suppose it is a possibility now.

“Hm.. alright. Well! Cya tomorrow.” He says easily, waving his hand and walking until he’s inside and out of sight.

Both you and Nami have no words. She’s staring at you while you continue to stare at the door, but you both share the same disbelief.

“Well, I guess we owe you two hundred fifty thousand berries each now.” Zoro says, having walked up at some point, you’re not really sure when.

“Yeah I mean… I gotta admit you proved us wrong entirely..” Nami agrees slowly, clearly still dumbfounded.

“Forget it.” You tell them. “I don’t want it anymore.”

“Huh?! Seriously?!” Zoro shouts in disbelief, probably never used to being relieved of debt thanks to one of your friends.

“[Y/n], are you alright? Just what happened??” Nami asks you, not really all that concerned with the bet now, same as you.

“I’m great! I’m…”  You slowly turn your head, finally looking over to your friend. Your hand comes up to rest over your mouth again, and you feel like you can still feel his lips on yours. You’re just still in total disbelief. You kissed Luffy. Not only that, but he liked kissing you, he wanted to do it.

“I just cant believe… He said he enjoyed it.. and earlier he was even trying to keep me from stopping.”

“Seriously?? Aww, [Y/N]!” Nami tells you with a smile. Despite always showing her moreso disapproval (and sometimes disgust) at your long-term crush on the captain, of course she’s still happy for you. All this time she’d given you advice and a shoulder to lean on about the whole thing, she was the only person you really told (though you’re sure maybe others have caught on). She never thought it was possible to get the captain to feel that type of thing, his aspirations too big seemingly to have any interest. This is a big surprise for both of you.

“Alright, you ladies can gossip about the details, but I don’t need to hear it so I’m out.” Zoro says, a little uncomfortable clearly. “But you’re serious about dropping the bet?”

“Yeah.. I don’t want the whole thing to be tainted by it being some bet. Let’s just pretend that never happened and… don’t tell Luffy, please.” You tell them both seriously and they nod, obviously having no objections to not having to pay you that amount anymore.

You then get bombarded by some of the others for a moment, all asking you a bunch of questions at once that you don’t really want to answer even if you could. You still need time to process this. Your best friend Nami obviously knows this, and forces them all to leave you alone so you can go to bed. You thank her and head to your room.

You realize something before you’re about to fall asleep. Just what exactly is this going to mean for the future on the ship?

[witchywithwhiskey]

an afternoon of pumpkin picking

pairing: sugar daddy!ransom drysdale x sugar baby!female reader

summary: you've convinced your sugar daddy to take you pumpkin picking—despite his reservations about spending any amount of time on a farm—and the perfectly autumnal date takes a turn when deeper feelings come to light.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, smut, unprotected sex, masturbation (f), guided masturbation, piv sex, outdoor sex, creampie, filming/recording/taking sexual photos, oral sex (m receiving), light bdsm, free use, pussy spanking, panty sniffing, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, pet names (nixie, baby), love confessions (a bit of idiots in love), aftercare, happy ending, so much fluff

word count: 11.6k

a/n: this fic is inspired by this exchange about various babes as sugar daddies taking their sugar babies on fall dates. i loved the idea of ransom being a little grumpy about going pumpkin picking, and then it morphed into this because i decided i wanted to explore their deeper emotional connection so uh it ended up being a lot longer than i expected. but it's also very cozy and smutty and fluffy and perfect for this time of year!!! anyway, i had fun writing this, so i hope y'all enjoy reading it!!

Can’t believe you talked me into this.

The text from your sugar daddy, Ransom Drysdale, arrived on a brisk September morning as you were getting ready for the perfectly autumnal date you’d convinced him to plan. As you read the message, you could practically hear the affectionate exasperation in his tone, which made you smile to yourself.

It had taken quite a bit of your powers of persuasion to get Ransom Drysdale—the heir to the Blood Like Wine Publishing dynasty and the most blue-blooded Boston man you’d ever met—to agree to take you pumpkin picking out in the “boonies,” as he called anywhere beyond the city limits that wasn’t his “ancestral estate” (also his words). 

But since you’d been seeing him for over a year, you knew all of Ransom’s weaknesses. And you’d used them to make a deal with your sugar daddy.

You’re going to have fun, I promise :) Don’t forget our deal.

You certainly hoped Ransom hadn’t forgotten about the arrangement you’d struck that ended up with him taking you pumpkin picking, especially since it was all you could think about that morning as you got ready and did your hair and makeup. Your thoughts kept straying to the deal you’d made, what you’d given him in exchange for the autumnal date of your dreams. 

Ransom Drysdale was a dealmaker by trade, overseeing all publication acquisitions for Blood Like Wine. So after all your normal methods of persuasion had failed to convince him to take you pumpkin picking, you’d offered him a deal he couldn’t refuse. It was one that you knew you both would enjoy, but Ransom especially since it appealed to his nature. 

A shiver of anticipation ran down your spine as you stood inside the walk-in closet of your Beacon Hill townhouse apartment—the one Ransom paid for, of course. 

It had been a gift when you’d accepted his request to be exclusively his sugar baby. He was the only man in your life anymore, and he’d said he wanted to make sure you were taken care of, so he got you the apartment and set up an allowance to make up for the other relationships you’d had to end.

Truthfully, it had been an incredibly easy decision to accept Ransom’s request. He was easily the youngest and handsomest of any man you’d been a sugar baby to—and if you had the tiniest little crush on him, you’d been certain you’d be able to keep it locked down so you didn’t jeopardize your relationship. 

After all, Ransom had been clear when you first met: He wasn’t looking to fall in love.

Unfortunately for you, over the year that you’d been seeing him exclusively, your crush had blossomed into full-blown feelings. It was hard not to care for the grumpy, sarcastic publishing executive. He made you laugh, he made you feel safe, and the sex with him was better than any you’d ever had.

More than a year into seeing him and it got harder and harder to hide the fact that you cared deeply for him. You wanted to bundle yourself in one of his sweaters and stay with him forever—but you knew you couldn’t let on about your feelings. You didn’t want to risk him finding out and ending your relationship because he feared you were falling in love with him…

Of course, there were other ways your relationship could end.

Your fingers toyed with the sleeve of a sweater hanging in your closet as you thought about your sugar daddy. A pit in your stomach opened wide as you considered, yet again, it was probably inevitable that one day he would grow tired of you and move on to someone else. Even if you didn’t tell him how you felt, he could still leave you.

It was what happened with these kinds of relationships—the men left when they got bored or tired. Or when they wanted to settle down. Or when they fell in love with someone else.

Add to that, you were keenly aware that you were getting old enough that a man as young as Ransom—who was in his 40s—might want to soon trade you in for a newer, younger model. 

The thought broke your heart a little, and you had to push it away. You cut off the entire train of thought, knowing that it would lead nowhere good, especially when your sugar daddy was due to pick you up in just a short time. As you went back to getting ready, in your mind, you repeated your mantra to yourself: You would not love Ransom Drysdale.

It was a lie, of course, but you were hoping that if you said it to yourself enough times it would become true. It hadn’t worked yet, though. 

Thankfully, your phone vibrated, distracting you.

Wear that skirt I like. And one of the sweaters you stole from me.

A huff of an affronted laugh escaped you at the brisk tone of Ransom’s message. You hated it when he barked orders at you like you were one of the interns at his office. Sure, technically you were his employee, but he didn’t have to use that tone—especially before a date.

You assumed he was cranky because he still didn’t want to go pumpkin picking, but that didn’t mean you had to put up with it. Or respond at all. Even if you did follow his orders, since that was part of your deal for the day.

Tossing your phone on your bed without replying, you pulled out the skirt he was referring to from your closet. It was a short, flouncy thing that swished dangerously around your thighs, offering tantalizing teases of your ass to anyone who might be looking at your backside. 

Ransom loved it because it afforded him a sneak peek of what lingerie you were wearing. One of his favorite things to gift you as his sugar baby was lingerie. He loved seeing you in it, touching you in it, fucking you in it. And what he liked most was sneaking a peek of your lingerie from those glimpses beneath your flouncy skirt.

On that September morning, you selected a black satin matching set to wear beneath the skirt, then pulled a maroon sweater from the pile in your closet.

He may have been a spoiled, rich man, but Ransom was a gentleman, and if you were cold, he’d give you his sweater—which was how you’d amassed a small hoard of your sugar daddy’s sweaters. You never could bring yourself to give them back once they made their way into your closet. Nor could you bear to wash them. 

In your loneliest moments, you’d pull on one of Ransom’s sweaters and let the expensive scent of his cologne comfort you. He smelled like whiskey and something spicy—something that matched perfectly with the fall and winter. 

You’d never told anyone about wearing Ransom’s sweaters when you were alone in your Beacon Hill apartment, but your sugar daddy knew you’d collected many of them. 

Ransom didn’t seem to mind, though. Or, at least, he never asked for them back. But sometimes, like that day, he’d ask that you wear one for him. It always sent a special thrill through you to wear your sugar daddy’s sweaters, like it meant he was staking a claim on you that was deeper and more like a typical romantic relationship. 

A giddy, happy smile curled your lips as you got dressed and added jewelry before checking to make sure your hair and makeup were still done to your satisfaction. 

You were just pulling on some black mary jane shoes when your phone chimed with another text. 

Let me see, nixie. 

Your traitorous heart fluttered at the nickname. Most of the sugar daddies you’d had relationships with called you by much more common pet names—sweetheart, honey—if they used them at all. But leave it to Ransom to pull a pet name from obscure European folklore. 

You’d had to look it up after the first time he used it, and when you found out it was a kind of river mermaid who lured men to their deaths, you’d laughed to yourself. Ransom had essentially likened you to a siren, and at the time, you’d wondered if he believed you could lure him to his death. It seemed ridiculous, especially when you were the one in danger of getting their heart broken.

Sometimes, when he used that pet name, you wondered if Ransom liked you as much as you liked him. If that was why he’d chosen it, because he worried you’d hurt him somehow. But that was a dangerous thought and you reminded yourself it would only lead to heartbreak. 

You tried not to have a reaction to the nickname. You tried to stop your heart from fluttering and your lips from curving into a smile. But it was impossible.

So to distract yourself, you did as Ransom had asked in his message. You snapped a quick photo of your outfit—the short, flouncy skirt paired with his maroon sweater and your black mary janes. You’d chosen to forgo tights because September in Massachusetts could get warm, especially with the sun shining as brightly as it was outside your window.

You sent the photo and began gathering your things to wait for Ransom to arrive for your date, but his response came back quicker than you expected.

Pretty, but I want to see it in person. I’m outside.

Your heart gave another flutter at the compliment, then flipped entirely when he said he was outside. Bounding to your bedroom window that overlooked the cobblestone streets of Beacon Hill, you grinned when you saw Ransom’s silver 1972 BMW coupe parked outside your door. 

Ransom might not be as excited for your pumpkin picking date as you were, but he was early. That had to mean something, right? 

You didn’t let that thought flourish any further, pushing it aside as you grabbed your keys and phone and shoved them in the bag you’d picked to match your outfit. Then you were flouncing down the stairs of your townhouse to the front door and pushing through it, pausing only to lock it behind you.

When you turned to the street, you were struck with the sight of Ransom Drysdale leaning against his BMW, a to-go cup of coffee in his hand. Your heart raced and your belly swooped—it felt like your entire body was having a visceral reaction to seeing Ransom dressed in an autumnal outfit that suited him so well.

A golden brown wool coat hung off Ransom’s broad shoulders, slightly obscuring the worn cream-colored cable knit sweater that covered his expansive chest. A purple and gold scarf with some kind of intricate design hung casually around his neck, adding to the look that was completed by dark slacks, brown loafers and a pair of sunglasses with gold rims that matched the rings he wore on his hands.

Despite his sunglasses, you could feel Ransom’s eyes on you and you bit your lip against a giddy grin, worried that your schoolgirl crush on your sugar daddy would show plain as day on your face if you let it slip free. Instead, you gave him an exaggerated onceover before letting out a low whistle of appreciation as you stepped into the narrow sidewalk lining the cobblestone street.

“Quit gawking and c’mere, nixie,” Ransom growled, using his free hand to grab your waist and pull you into him. 

You landed against his broad, muscular chest with a light, “oomph,” and instantly wound your arms around his shoulders, enjoying the way he felt so steady and solid against you. 

“You love it when I check you out, don’t you, daddy?” you teased in a soft voice meant only for him. 

The street wasn’t busy, but it was so narrow that if any of your neighbors had their windows open to let in the crisp September air, they’d easily be able to overhear you. And you didn’t want anyone else hearing you call Ransom ‘daddy’—that was just for him.

“I do,” Ransom admitted in a rumbling voice, matching your low tone. “And I love looking at you in your pretty little outfit I picked out…” He trailed off, ducking down closer to you and nudging your nose to tilt your head back, ghosting his mouth over your lips teasingly when you canted your face to meet his. “But daddy needs a kiss, baby.”

The words were barely past his lips before you were surging up onto your tiptoes and kissing Ransom. He tasted like black coffee and cinnamon, and you couldn’t get enough of it. When his tongue slid across your lower lip seeking entrance, you were helpless to do anything but open for him, moaning softly as he plunged into your mouth.

The kiss had started out chaste enough for the sidewalk of Beacon Hill, but Ransom seemed to be as ravenous as you felt, hooking his arms around your waist and bending you backward with the intensity of his need to devour you. 

It had your head spinning with pleasure, but you still gave him as good as you got, kissing him back with just as much fervor, your leg rising of its own accord to hook around his thigh beneath his open coat.

Gradually, Ransom slowed the kiss until his mouth was decadently nibbling on your lower lip before licking the sting of his teeth away. Then, finally, he pulled away and you were able to drag in a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight as you lowered your leg back to the sidewalk. 

“Get in the car, nixie,” Ransom growled, though there was no anger in his tone, only a desirous heat that you recognized, since it was swirling warmly in the depths of your core. “Before I decide I’d rather take you back inside your apartment and fuck you in nothing but my sweater instead of taking you pumpkin picking.”

His free hand slid down your back and he groped the soft curve of your ass shamelessly over your skirt, right there on the street. Still, you couldn’t help but melt at his rough handling, a gasp escaping as his fingers dug ruthlessly into your flesh. 

For just a second, you debated whether you wanted Ransom to deliver on his threat, but decided against it. The prospect of seeing your sugar daddy going pumpkin picking was too good to pass up.

“Ok, ok, I’m getting in the car,” you huffed on a laugh, your voice breathy in a way you couldn’t help as you squirmed away from Ransom’s groping hand. Your sugar daddy chuckled, but let you go, then turned to open the door of his BMW for you.

He waited until you were settled on the soft leather seat, your seatbelt buckled across your lap, then leaned into the car and handed you the coffee he’d been holding. You took it with no small amount of surprise, having assumed it was his own coffee.

“For you, your favorite,” he murmured before brushing a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry for being short with you this morning.”

A stunned expression froze on your face, his words spinning around in your mind so loudly, you barely heard the thump of the car door closing. Your eyes flicked up to watch Ransom cross in front of the car, your heart racing like you’d just sprinted an entire marathon.

It was then that you knew, unequivocally, without any doubt, that you loved Ransom Drysdale. 

Your sugar daddy slid smoothly into the driver’s seat and pulled his door shut before glancing at you. You gave him a weak smile, trying to hid the fact that you felt like a bomb had just been dropped inside your heart, and his expression twisted into one of annoyance.

“Don’t tell me they fucked up your drink,” he fumed, shoving his keys in the ignition and starting his BMW. He threw an arm around the back of your seat, his chest close enough to your shoulder that you could feel the warmth radiating from him as he carefully backed up, then maneuvered onto the street. All the while, he was muttering, “It’s a fucking pumpkin spice latte, they must make thousands of them a day. How can they fuck it up?”

When he merged into traffic at the end of the street heading in the direction of the local coffee shop, Ransom finally pulled his arm away from the back of your seat. You grabbed his hand before he could put it back on the wheel, squeezing it to get his attention.

“The latte’s fine, Ran—it’s perfect,” you assured him, even though you hadn’t taken a sip yet. Some of the anger drained from his expression and he executed a u-turn to turn in the other direction of the coffee shop, but his jaw was still ticking with annoyance and you searched for an explanation that wasn’t the truth. When you couldn’t think of anything else, you blurted, “I was just surprised you remembered my favorite coffee.”

“Of course I remembered,” he said after a moment of silence. His voice was gruff, like he didn’t know what to do with his sweet gesture being addressed so directly, but his mood seemed to lighten, his annoyance forgotten. Slipping his hand from your fingers, he settled his palm firmly on your thigh, giving you a playful squeeze as he shot you a smirk. “Though I don’t think that sugary nonsense should really be called coffee,” he snarked, giving your leg another squeeze to let you know he was only teasing.

You huffed an exasperated laugh and settled your free hand on top of his, holding onto him while he drove skillfully through the busy streets of Boston, heading toward the city limits. 

Ransom’s joke washed away the remnants of whatever tension your revelation, and your need to hide it from him, had caused between the two of you. Of course, you still felt the knowledge that you loved him hovering at the edge of your mind, but it was easy to sink into Ransom’s comforting presence and, if not entirely forget about it, at least more easily pretend you didn’t know you were in love with your sugar daddy.

On the drive, you made conversation with Ransom, asking him about his work and his family. He’d spent time with them the previous weekend and hadn’t seen you as a result. But he skipped quickly over the family party he’d attended and instead focused on telling you about some of the books he’d acquired for Blood Like Wine. 

You didn’t like Ransom’s family, based on what little you knew about them. And you didn’t feel even a little bit bad about it because you were certain they’d never like you, especially considering how you’d met Ransom. But it still made you sad to think about him facing them alone. Your heart thumped with sympathy and you curled your fingers more possessively around his hand on your thigh.

Ransom shot you a lopsided smile and turned the conversation around on you, asking about what books you’d been reading, and how the rest of your hobbies were going. He didn’t need to ask about your work because he’d made sure you didn’t need a job other than keeping him company—and especially didn’t need any other sugar daddies. 

So you told him about what you were reading and all the other things you did to occupy your time while he listened and asked questions. He especially loved hearing your opinions on the Blood Like Wine books he’d acquired. 

A little over an hour outside the city, Ransom’s BMW pulled into a gravel driveway beside a large sign that read Johnson’s Family Farm. There were smaller signs lining the drive advertising the farm’s apple orchards, hayrides, farm stand, and, of course, the pumpkin patch. 

Beyond the windows of Ransom’s BMW, you could see the farm sprawling out toward the distant horizon, plenty of picturesque little red buildings and beautiful fields filled with various fruits and vegetables. But there was something off about the farm, and it took you a moment to realize what it was: The whole place was deserted. 

It was a little early in the day, just after lunch time, but you were still surprised by how empty the parking lot was. And you didn’t even see any workers, or cars that might belong to them. It was just Ransom’s BMW and the deserted farm.

“Where is everyone?” you asked, turning in your seat to Ransom. “Are you sure they’re open?” It was the weekend, they must’ve been open, but you couldn’t make sense of why no one was there.

Ransom snorted, giving you a devious smirk as he put the car in park and turned it off. 

“I bought out the farm for a couple hours, it’s just us and the pumpkins, nixie,” he explained, squeezing your thigh one last time before stepping out of the car and rounding the front to open your door for you. 

You stepped out onto the gravel in a bit of a daze, still shocked by his words. You knew Ransom was wealthy—he was a high-level executive at one of the most successful prestige publishers in the country, not to mention the money he inherited from his family—but him buying out an entire farm just for your date was one of the most extravagant things he’d ever done. Your mind reeled as you tried to fathom how much that would even cost.

Ransom curled a finger beneath your chin and tipped your face up to look at him. He’d taken off his sunglasses, so you were met with the sight of his sparkling blue eyes. Paired with his devastatingly handsome smirk, your knees instantly went weak and your mouth parted in a wordless plea for him to kiss you.

He dropped a quick peck to your lips that was over too soon and swept his thumb across your cheek in a soothing gesture, your surprise melting into happiness as you realized you got to have Ransom all to yourself on your date. 

“C’mon, nixie, did you really think I’d agree to go pumpkin picking—to go tromping through the dirt on a farm,” he scoffed, his tone warm even if it was a little derisive. “And deal with hordes of screaming children and their families?” 

Ransom raised an eyebrow at you and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh as you rolled your eyes. You didn’t even need to answer, because of course Ransom wouldn’t want to deal with anyone else while he was enduring the absolute torture of going pumpkin picking. But then his next words distracted you from thinking about how spoiled he was.

“Besides, I haven’t forgotten our deal. I have plans for you, and we needed the farm all to ourselves for them,” he teased, his smirk turning impish as he ducked down and captured your lips in another quick kiss. 

Your heart was racing with excitement, your mind turning over his words and wondering what he could have planned for you while Ransom grabbed your hand and led you into the farm. You shook your head to clear it of all the naughty thoughts that had popped into your mind, and focused on your sugar daddy, who was following the signs toward the pumpkin patch with a grim acceptance in his expression.

The September sun was warm on your shoulders, but there was a cool breeze, the lingering chill of the morning clinging to the day and you curled around Ransom’s arm while you walked. You tried to distract your sugar daddy from the eventuality of leaving the nice dirt path to wade into the pumpkin patch by chattering about fond memories you had of going apple picking and exploring corn mazes with friends when you were younger. 

When you got to the area where you could pick your own pumpkins, Ransom paused at the edge, using your clasped hands to pull you to a stop alongside him. Your chatter cut off mid-sentence and you looked curiously to your sugar daddy, finding his brows lowered over his stormy blue eyes as he considered the haphazard spread of soft soil, scattered hay and orange pumpkins.

“I still don’t really see the point of this,” he muttered, giving the pumpkin patch a dubious look.

You couldn’t help but smile, thinking Ransom looked younger than his years in that moment—like a kid who was being introduced to something new and didn’t trust that they were going to like it. 

You curled into Ransom’s chest, your arms twining around his neck while his settled easily around your waist. You looked up at him and waited to speak until he dragged his gaze from the pumpkin patch behind you to meet your eyes.

“Normally, the point would be to take some pumpkins home and carve them,” you explained patiently. Ransom narrowed his eyes on you suspiciously, as if he believed you were going to try to convince him to do such an unfathomably pedestrian thing, and the corners of your mouth flickered as you suppressed an even wider smiler. “But something tells me even my powers of persuasion aren’t strong enough to get you to do that.”

Ransom only snorted, his eyes flicking disdainfully to the pumpkins over your shoulder then back at you. “Definitely not.” 

But there was a curiosity buried deep in his gaze, and you wondered if one day—if you were together long enough—he might be willing to try some pumpkin carving. 

Surprisingly, you could picture it. Ransom with his worn, threadbare sweater sleeves rolled up to his elbows, grimacing as he yanked pumpkin guts from inside a big, orange gourd. It almost made you giggle to think about.

Instead, you shook your head to clear the image from your thoughts, not wanting to get your hopes up that Ransom would be a fixture in your life long enough that you could convince him to carve pumpkins with you. 

Although, maybe if you offered to blow him while he did… You shook your head again and met Ransom’s curious gaze, giving him a bright smile that was only a little bit fake.

“Then we can just pick out a couple pumpkins for my front steps,” you said sunnily, bouncing up onto your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to Ransom’s cheek. “They’re pretty decorations whether we carve them or not.” 

You began to pull away, intent on starting your search for the perfect pumpkins, but Ransom’s arms tightened around your waist, like he didn’t want to let go yet.

“You’d be a much prettier decoration than any of these gourds, nixie,” he murmured, and you turned your face to him in surprise at the gruffness in his tone. There was some emotion laced through his voice that you couldn’t place, and before you could puzzle it out, Ransom’s mouth caught yours, sending your thoughts scattering as he kissed you deeply.

When you finally broke away for a breath, your body was buzzing with awareness of Ransom’s and a warmth that had nothing to do with the bright September sun had bloomed between your thighs. You had half a mind to drag Ransom back to the car and have him do something about what he’d started, but you were determined to go pumpkin picking. 

Pushing aside the distracting hum of desire filling your body, you pulled away from Ransom’s warmth and began carefully stepping through the pumpkin patch. The smell of earth and the distinct scent of pumpkins surrounded you, calming some of the buzzy heat Ransom had stirred up, and you were able to focus on your search for the perfect pumpkins.

Once Ransom got over the fact that he would have to walk through the dirt in his nice loafers—which took a few moments of complaining—he began picking his way through the pumpkins. He kept calling out to you when he’d found one that was particularly deformed or ugly in some way, trying to claim they had “character.” But you knew he was just being a pest to make you laugh and smile.

To his credit, he was making you laugh, and the smile on your face was so wide it hurt a little. 

Every time he held up a terrible pumpkin like it was a prize catch, you shook your head at him, but your laughter echoed across the fields of the farm. And you couldn’t help but notice that Ransom seemed to be having fun, too, his own smile staying fixed on his handsome face as you both made your way through the pumpkin patch.

“What about this one?” Ransom called, from a little ways away, having wandered off in a different direction. “Now this is a pumpkin.”

You stood up from where you’d been bent over, looking at some moderately sized pumpkins to find Ransom standing beside a massive orange thing. It was almost as high as Ransom’s waist, tipped on its side, but as you looked harder, something about it seemed off.

First, it was clearly meant to be part of a display set up by the farm, since it stood in front of an artfully arranged stack of hay bales that were topped with smaller pumpkins. The rest of the field stretched out behind the setup, and you suspected it had been constructed in an attempt to give visitors to the farm a photo op, where families or groups of friends could pose for the perfect autumnal pictures. 

But as you walked closer to Ransom, and smoothed your hands over the large pumpkin, you realized something else was off about the gourd.

“Ran,” you started dryly, cutting your eyes to him, finding him admiring the pumpkin. “This isn’t a real pumpkin—it’s fake, for the photo op,” you said, waving your hand at the whole display.

Ransom seemed confused for a moment, then looked at the bales of hay arranged behind it as if he was seeing them for the first time. Since you were closer, you could see a little sign that had the name of the farm tacked into the hay, and had to give it to Johnson’s Family Farm—they seemed to know what they were doing.

“Figures the first pumpkin I actually like is fake,” Ransom muttered, turning to you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he curled his big body around yours. 

You bit your lip against a laugh and stroked your fingers through his soft brown hair. “Don’t worry, Ran, I’m sure we’ll find something you like.” 

His thick arms squeezed you tight and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, holding onto one another. It was a sweet moment—until Ransom’s hands began to wander down your back, stroking down your spine to the swell of your ass. But he didn’t stop there. His hands slid further down and under your skirt, groping your thighs shamelessly and kneading the soft flesh of your ass.

“Remind me again about the deal we made, nixie,” Ransom rumbled, his tone thick with lust as he used his big hands to pull you closer, his bulge pressing into your stomach. 

Your mind was swimming with desire, your body arched into the bigger form of your sugar daddy, but you managed to remember the words of the agreement you’d made—the one that had finally convinced Ransom it would be worth it to take you pumpkin picking.

“I have to do everything you say,” you recited the terms of your deal, your voice breathless with excitement. “And you can do anything you want with me.”

Ransom made a rumbling sound deep in his chest, the vibrations teasing your nipples through your sweater and sheer lingerie. Your breasts felt heavy, aching to be touched, but you kept your arms around Ransom’s broad shoulders, waiting to see what he’d do. 

“I think it’s time for you to pay up, baby,” Ransom murmured, walking you backward until your ass collided with the big, fake pumpkin. “I wanna take some pictures of my pretty sugar baby on the biggest pumpkin in the patch.” 

The plastic was cold against your bare thighs and you sucked in a gasp, your body tensing in Ransom’s grip.

He seemed to understand your plight, though, because he uncurled himself from around your body—after giving your ass a lingering squeeze. 

Straightening, Ransom’s eyes caught yours, his blue gaze sparkling with mischief and a smirk playing at the edge of his mouth as he shrugged out of his wool coat. He swung it around behind you, laying it down on the pumpkin before his hands fell to your hips.

“Need a boost?” he asked, his lips curving into a deviously handsome smirk as his hands settled on your hips.

Truthfully, you didn’t need the help. The pumpkin was only a little higher than your ass, and you could have easily hopped up onto it. But arousal was slinking through your body, making you feel heavy and achy and you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have Ransom’s hands on you for a little longer.

“Yes, please, daddy,” you said sweetly, giving Ransom your most charming smile and enjoying the way his eyes darkened at the honorific. 

Ransom pressed close to you, his expensive cologne filling your senses as he pinned you against the pumpkin under the guise of helping you. But you could feel the hard, thick length in his slacks digging into your soft belly and you knew he was enjoying the excuse to hold you just as much as you were. 

Slowly, he eased you up onto the pumpkin, the wool of his coat scratchy against the back of your bare thighs, but much warmer and softer than the cold plastic of the decoration. 

When he settled you right where he wanted you, it took all your self-control not to spread your legs for Ransom. You bit your lip against a sultry smile and kept your legs closed, trying to look nice for the photos he was going to take.

Still, you couldn’t help but murmur a breathy, “Thank you, daddy,” that had your blood running even hotter through your veins. 

Ransom seemed just as affected as you, but he managed to hold himself together, dropping a quick kiss to your lips before rumbling, “Good girl, nixie.” 

Then he was stepping away, taking his warmth and delicious scent with him as he retreated a few paces and pulled out his phone. You arranged yourself in a pretty pose on the pumpkin, smiling for Ransom’s camera, and adjusting your legs or arms or the tilt of your head as he asked. 

You’d been a little worried that giving Ransom free reign to order you around would lead to him barking commands at you like you were a dog. But he’d taken your words about not liking being talked to like that to heart—no doubt helped by the reminder of his text going unanswered that morning—and he kept his voice warm and light as he guided you through the poses he wanted for the photos he was taking.

It was more fun than you expected. You’d never done any kind of photoshoot, and you found yourself enjoying Ransom’s gentle commands helping you pose for him. He took so many photos of you perched on that fake pumpkin, you began to wonder what he planned to do with them. 

But then his directions took a new turn, and you couldn’t help the smirk that curved your lips.

“Now spread your legs,” Ransom urged, bending down so he was crouched in the field, being careful not to let his pants touch the dirt. “Put your feet up—yeah, just like that.” Ransom’s eyes sparkled in the bright September sunshine as he watched you shift into the pose he wanted, his mouth pulled wide in a wolfish grin. “Let daddy see what’s under that pretty skirt of yours.”

Leaning back on your hands, you lifted your knees and spread them wide, balancing precariously on top of the big, fake pumpkin. Your skirt fell around your hips, baring your black silk panties for Ransom’s camera. Even a few paces away, you could hear his inhale of breath when he got his first glimpse of the thin slip of fabric barely covering your glistening slit. 

Excited thrills zipped through your body, more wetness gathering between your thighs as you watched Ransom’s blue eyes darken. Your pussy was so close to being on full display in broad daylight, and even though you knew the farm was deserted, the possibility of somehow being caught still made the tension in you crackle deliciously. 

But that was the fun of following Ransom’s orders—you’d known from the moment you offered it up for the deal that he would have you doing something naughty. You just hoped, as your core ached to be filled, that your sugar daddy would end the teasing soon and fuck you over the pumpkin he had you sitting on.

“Rub your pussy, baby,” Ransom rumbled, his voice pitching lower. “Let me see you make a mess of your pretty panties—all for me.”

His tone was drenched in a desire that made you even wetter, your body responding to his voice alone. You were so gone for him, you didn’t even care that no other man had ever made you wet just from his voice. You just wanted him to keep talking—keep ordering you to do more filthy things. 

Putting all your weight on one hand, you slipped the other between your thighs, using two fingers to rub your clit through your black silk panties. You suspected they were expensive, just like all the lingerie Ransom had gifted you, but you didn’t think about how much they cost. You only stared into Ransom’s camera and let your eyes go heavy-lidded, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan as pleasure pulsed through your body.

“Good girl, nixie,” Ransom purred, shifting closer but staying down on his haunches. Soft clicks of a camera shudder came from his phone as he took photo after photo, capturing the way your fingers dipped down to your slit and pushed your panties ever so slightly into your dripping hole. “Fuck—yeah, just like that, rub that pretty pussy like a good little slut for daddy.”

A whimper slipped from your lips and a shudder wracked your whole body at the pleasure that suffused your entire being. Your fingers teased your wet slit while Ransom watched, his phone camera trained on you while he took photos of your lewd actions. It was headier than you would’ve expected, your thoughts scattering as your hips rocked gently, pressing your cunt against your fingers instinctively.

“Daddy, ‘m so empty,” you wailed softly, pushing your fingers into your pussy through your panties, whining desperately when they couldn’t go deep enough. The black satin was soaked in your juices, feeling good as it slipped against your wet lower lips, but you hated it in that moment because it was the only thing stopping you from being filled. “P-please, daddy!”

One of Ransom’s hands dropped from his phone to palm his dick through his pants, and you whimpered louder with a wordless plea. You opened your eyes wider and pouted your lips, imploring him to put you out of your misery—either by giving you another order, or by sinking his fat cock into your aching pussy.

Ransom’s features darkened with desire, his handsome face twisting into an expression that was almost a scowl as he rose from his crouch to tower over where you were perched. Your own expression lightened and turned hopeful, sure he was going to tuck his phone away and fill you up, but instead, he chuckled darkly. 

Skimming his free hand down your inner thigh, he groped you briefly, your skin tingling everywhere he touched. But then he ignored your pussy entirely and instead tugged on the hem of your sweater.

“Pull up your shirt, nixie, show me your slutty body,” Ransom rasped, his voice hoarse with his own need while he palmed his dick again, keeping his phone camera trained on you.

You whined and squirmed pathetically at the quick tease of his touch, but followed his order all the same. You tugged the hem of your sweater up, catching it between your teeth to keep it from falling down again before you went back to rubbing your pussy. 

You knew how you must’ve looked—your legs spread wide, your shirt pulled up to show off both parts of your black silk matching set and your hand pressed between your thighs, rubbing your pussy shamelessly. You must’ve looked like a perfect little whore for Ransom, and by the way his eyes sparkled and his mouth curved into a satisfied smirk, he loved it.

“Good girl, nixie,” he murmured, soft clicks of the camera shutter coming from his phone as he took even more photos while he stood over you. “You’re such a good little slut for me, baby, such a perfectly obedient girl.” His eyes flicked from his phone screen to your eyes. “Doesn’t it feel good to do everything daddy tells you?” 

With the soft cotton of your sweater in your mouth, you couldn’t speak, so you nodded, holding Ransom’s gaze as you did so. You wanted him to see it was the truth—it did feel good to do what he told you. Because you trusted him. You knew he’d never tell you to do anything that might hurt you. 

Something shifted in Ransom’s eyes as he read your expression—something that looked a lot like surprise melting into a profound awareness that seemed to frighten him. As you watched, his eyes hardened just a little bit, the hand holding his phone dropping out of the way as he stared at you intensely.

“Are you sure you can handle it, sugar baby, doing everything I tell you?” he asked, a harshness in his tone that spoke to an underlying animosity you knew wasn’t truly directed at you. 

You realized all of a sudden that you’d tipped your hand. You’d shown Ransom you trusted him, and, in the process, shown him that your feelings for him were deeper than they should be between a sugar baby their sugar daddy. His question was a challenge, and an offering of an escape at the same time. 

But, for all that you’d avoided showing Ransom how you truly felt about him, you simply couldn’t run away from him. If you’d been able to do that, you would’ve parted ways with your sugar daddy already. 

So you held Ransom’s glinting blue gaze and nodded resolutely. His expression hardened further. 

“Spank your pussy,” Ransom growled, his voice sounding as rough as the gravel in the farm’s parking lot. “Show me what a dirty little slut you are and slap your cunt as hard as you can.” 

Your whole body quivered with anticipation as you drew back your hand from your wet, puffy pussy. Your silk panties were soaking wet, and you knew the flimsy fabric wouldn’t protect your sensitive slit from the sting of the spank, but Ransom gave you an order, and you intended to follow it—to show him how much you trusted him, and cared for him.

Using the flat of your fingers, you slapped your cunt as Ransom instructed, as hard as you could manage. Electrifying pain streaked through your body, making you cry out and arch violently on the pumpkin you were perched on, your other hand gripping tightly to Ransom’s wool coat to keep you balanced. A deep, blazing pleasure nipped at the sensation’s heels and your cry devolved quickly into a debauched moan that was muffled by the sweater in your mouth. 

It took you a moment to force your gaze back to Ransom, his eyes swirling with so many emotions, you didn’t have a hope of discerning them. But he held his phone up again, no doubt framing you within the screen and said in a gruff voice, “Again.”

That time, since you were expecting it, it was easier to brace for the sting of pain and the burning pleasure that swept the smarting tingle away. But your body still responded, your spine curving and your legs shaking wildly, your lips falling open in another muted moan as your teeth clung to the sweater so it didn’t slip free from your mouth. 

Ransom’s camera captured the whole thing—you knew because he watched the screen instead of you, his mouth twisting into a depraved smirk.

“Does it feel good, baby?” Ransom rumbled, some of the warmth you typically heard in your sugar daddy’s voice seeping back into his words. He must’ve heard it, too, because his next words were harsher. “Does it feel good to spank your pussy like the dirty little slut she is?

“Uh huh,” you mumbled around the sweater in your mouth. You tried to tell him it felt good, but the words came out entirely garbled, though Ransom seemed to understand. 

“Are you gonna come from slapping your naughty cunt?” he asked, his eyes darkening with hungry intent as he watched your face, waiting for your response.

Your pussy pulsed at his filthy question, and you thought maybe it was possible to come from spanking your puffy slit, especially if your fingers caught your clit with each slap. But truthfully, you didn’t know—you’d never tried. So you answered Ransom honestly, muttering, “Ionno,” around the sweater in your mouth.

Ransom huffed an impatient sound and reached for you to tug the sweater free from your teeth, his actions gentle even despite his obvious annoyance. “Say that again.”

“I-I don’t know,” you whispered. “I can try.”

The expression on Ransom’s face shifted again, but it became even more unreadable. He held your gaze for a moment, as if he was searching for something, though you didn’t know what. 

“You want to try?” he asked, his voice soft, almost tentative.

You acted instinctively, pushing yourself up so you were no longer balancing on your hand and reaching past Ransom’s phone to grab his sweater to pull him down for a kiss. Your lips moved sweetly against his for a moment, before you pulled back and stared deeply into his eyes. 

“I want to do everything you tell me to do,” you said, reciting the words of the deal you’d struck with Ransom, but changing them just a little, to tell him again that you wanted him, you trusted him. “I want you to do anything you want with me.” 

A look of something almost like fury flitted across Ransom’s face, and then he was surging forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, as if he meant to brand you with his mouth. You moaned into him, which only seemed to make him kiss you harder, his tongue pushing past your lips to sweep into you as if he owned you. 

In that moment, if he’d asked, you would have told him he did.

Just as suddenly as he’d kissed you, Ransom pulled away and he shoved his phone in the pocket of his expensive slacks. Then, before you’d even recovered from his kiss, he grabbed your hips and spun you to the side, guiding your shoulders down so you were laying draped sideways across the big pumpkin. 

“Panties off,” he growled, his voice a low rumbling contrast to the sharp clinking of his belt buckle as he undid his pants. “Give ‘em to me.” 

You were quick to follow his orders, hooking your fingers in the black silk panties and shoving them down your legs, pulling them off and then handing them to Ransom. You watched your sugar daddy hold them up to his face and take a deep breath, inhaling your scent as his other hand dove into his boxer briefs. 

Because your head was hanging over the side of the fake pumpkin beneath your back, you had a front row seat to Ransom’s big hand stroking his hard length, your mouth watering with the desire to taste him on your tongue. A whine slipped from your lips and you squirmed, getting Ransom’s attention.

He chuckled darkly, tucking your panties into the pocket of his slacks that didn’t hold his phone and then shoved them and his boxer briefs down. His thick, fat cock fell on your face, making you flinch in surprise at the slight slap of it against your skin. But in the next breath, you were tilting your face up and kissing him affectionately, murmuring in contentment when his musky taste hit your tongue. 

“Such a perfect little slut, baby,” Ransom rasped, his praise drenched in that warm tone that had your heart beating happily in your chest. He wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and slapped it gently on your smiling lips. “Open your mouth and spread your legs.” 

Immediately, you did as Ransom said, parting your thighs and opening your mouth wide, then waiting for what came next. You weren’t surprised when Ransom didn’t waste any time before pushing the tip of his cock past your lips.  

He let out a low, filthy groan as he thrust deep in your mouth, pressing into your throat until you could feel him bulging in the front of your neck. He held there, his balls nestled against your nose while you swallowed around him, trying to get used to the intrusion while he groaned obscenely at how good you felt. 

“Fuck yeah, baby, take daddy’s cock in your pretty little throat,” he rumbled, his hand wrapping around the front of your throat and pressing down lightly, grunting when he felt himself twitching inside you. “You’re such a perfect little slut, ’s like you were made for me—all for me.” 

You moaned around Ransom’s cock, hoping he took the sound for the agreement it was as you lay beneath him, your hips squirming and your pussy fluttering in the cool September air. Your wiggling seemed to get Ransom’s attention and he leaned over you, his big hand sliding between your thighs to rub your already messy pussy.

“So fucking wet for me,” he murmured, his voice sounding like sunshine with the affection clear in his tone. “You still wanna see if you can come from getting your pussy spanked?” he asked, a smirk in his words. 

You nodded as best you could, your hips squirming and bucking, practically begging for him without using a single word—not that you could utter any with his cock buried so deeply in your throat. 

His fingers slid teasingly against your clit and you bucked harder, grinding against him as best you could. 

Your antics made Ransom laugh quietly as he muttered, “Alright, baby,” in a placating voice. 

That was the only warning you got—that and his hand disappearing from your pussy. Ransom’s big hand came down on your pussy sharply, the flat of his fingers spanking your pussy much harder than you. Still, you could feel he was holding back from using all his strength, only giving it to you as hard as he knew you could take.

And take it you did. 

A muffled scream clawed its way up your throat and slipped past your lips to be muffled against Ransom’s balls as white-hot pain flooded your body, followed closely by the all-consuming burn of pleasure. A tremor shook your limbs and you choked on Ransom’s cock, your throat squeezing him tight enough to wring a grunt from him. 

“Fuck—did that feel good, baby?” he rumbled, his fingers dipping into your hole and rubbing your juices all over your pussy, paying special attention to your clit. “Do you like it when daddy spanks your slutty pussy? Because you’re squeezing my cock like you want me to do it again.” 

His voice was drenched in warmth and humor and you whined in response as you planted your feet on the curve of the fake pumpkin and bucked your hips up against his hand, pleasure coiling tight in your core. You knew it was only a matter of a few more smacks from Ransom’s hand before that coil was snapping and you were going to come from him spanking your pussy. 

“That sounds like a yes, but I wanna feel you nod, baby,” Ransom murmured, his other hand petting your cheek softly. 

You couldn’t see him from the angle you were at, but you could hear the smile in his tone and you melted a little, your legs falling open wider as you nodded for him. 

“Good girl,” he praised, his fingers stroking over the bulge in your throat while his others rubbled your clit, making your tight channel squeeze his cock tighter. “And what do you do if it’s too much? Show daddy,” he urged as his fingers trailed lower, until they dipped into your black satin bra and swirled around your nipples until they were stiff peaks. 

Meanwhile, you reached back and patted the outside of Ransom’s thigh three times, the sign you’d established with him early on in your relationship for when you needed a break but didn’t have the capacity to use words. 

“Good, you’re such a good girl,” he purred. His hand kept sliding lower down your body until he reached your thighs. He grabbed your soft flesh and pushed your legs open even wider. “Now, let’s see if we can make your pretty pussy come just from being spanked while I fuck your slutty mouth.” 

You barely had a chance to moan your agreement before Ransom’s hand came down on your cunt again, the sharp, slick sound of his fingers slapping your wet flesh meeting your ears before the stinging pain and scorching pleasure sent your thoughts skittering away. 

He rubbed your clit roughly and moved his hips, thrusting shallowly into your mouth, grunting and groaning at the feel of your moans vibrating through him and your throat squeezing him every time he slapped your pussy. 

Ransom fell into a rhythm, spanking your pussy as hard as he thought you could handle, his fingers catching your clit every time, and fucking your throat while you lay draped over the big, fake pumpkin in that deserted pumpkin patch. 

You were at the mercy of Ransom, and he seemed to know it just as much as you did—and he didn’t take it for granted. His hands were purposeful with every touch, every spank, his hips never pushing too hard against your head as he fucked your mouth. It was filthy and dirty and yet you could feel the depth of his caring in everything he did to you.

It wasn’t long before you were pushed to the precipice of your release, your body trembling uncontrollably, the coil in your core wound so tight, you knew it would snap any second. 

Ransom must’ve felt it too, because he started up a constant refrain of, “Good girl, baby, come for me—come for daddy, baby. You’re doing so good, wanna watch your pretty pussy come, baby, c’mon, lemme see.” His words were so sweet and warm and wicked, you were unable to do anything but follow his gentle command. 

On the next slap to your cunt, the coil of pleasure in your belly snapped, and your entire body went tight with white-hot tension before it burst free into decimating waves of pleasure. Ransom’s cock muffled your scream as you came, your hips bucking and pussy convulsing beneath his warm palm as you rubbed your soaking wet slit against him. 

You were so consumed by your release, you didn’t notice the way Ransom had frozen, and you barely felt him pulling his cock free from your mouth. You only knew that suddenly you were able to pull in deep breaths and smell the crisp scent of the pumpkin patch. 

Your head spun when Ransom gently pushed you to sit up and hauled you off the pumpkin, your feet hitting the soft soil of the field and your knees nearly buckling as your body still shivered from the waves of pleasure rolling through you. 

Ransom sat heavily on his wool coat still draped haphazardly over the top of the pumpkin, his hands greedily grabbing your hips and pulling you onto his lap. Your knees bracketed his thighs while his hands grabbed your ass and guided you to sit up. Then you felt the tip of his cock slide against your still fluttering hole and you moaned, your head dropping back like you didn’t have the strength to hold it up anymore.

“Can’t fucking believe you came from getting your pussy spanked, baby,” Ransom was mumbling, his big hands changing the angle of your hips until the head of his cock was pressed to your entrance. “Gotta feel it, gotta…” He cut off on a grunt when he pushed into your slick, pulsing pussy, his hands shifting to your hips so he could pull you down onto his hard, throbbing length.

Your hands found Ransom’s biceps and you held onto him, your fingers tangling in the thick weave of his cable knit sweater as you quickly sank down on his cock. He was so thick and long, it stung a little to impale yourself so fast without any kind of preparation, but you didn’t care. You were too greedy for his cock to take your time, a deep, primal instinct driving you to take him as fast as you could while your mind was still reeling from your first release. 

“Oh fu-uck,” Ransom groaned brokenly, his head falling against your chest. You could feel his face pressing into your sternum, his heavy exhale ghosting between the swells of your breasts. It was against your bare skin, your heart racing just beneath the surface, that Ransom confessed, “I love you, nixie.” 

At his words, you went deathly still. For an unending moment, your mind reeled and you tried to be certain you’d heard Ransom correctly. You were sure you couldn’t have.

It didn’t seem like he realized what he’d said until he felt you stiffen in his lap. Then, Ransom sat up slowly, his gaze sharp as it raked over your face, trying to gauge your reaction. 

Licking your lips to bide you time to find your voice, you forced yourself to ask the question your heart needed an answer to. 

“Do you mean it?”

Ransom’s expression tightened, his eyes going even more wary, but he nodded—a quick, dip of his chin—and you sucked in a breath.

A tingling warmth started at the top of your head and cascaded through your body, filling you with a bright, fizzling feeling. It took a moment for you to recognize it was happiness. But not just happiness—it was pure, unfiltered joy. 

Your sugar daddy loved you. Ransom Drysdale loved you. 

His expression was growing more and more distant with every second that passed without you responding and you couldn’t have that. 

Squealing in delight, you launched yourself at him—not that it was such a far distance, considering you were in his lap—and he let out a soft, “oof,” when you collided with his chest, your arms winding around his neck and squeezing him tight.

“I love you, too, Ran,” you confessed on an exhale. It felt so good to get the words off your chest, that you repeated them. “I love you.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Ransom said on a sigh of relief as he gathered you tighter against his chest. One of his arms wrapped around your lower back while the other braced against your spine so his hand could cup the back of your neck. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that, nixie.”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t love you back?” you asked softly before pressing a kiss to Ransom’s soft cheek because you couldn’t help yourself. The scent of his cologne filled your senses and you smiled against his jaw, kissing him again and again, like you’d never get enough of it. 

“Wasn’t sure,” he admitted gruffly. 

You giggled at the sheepishness in his tone, pulling back until you could see his face. He was blushing a little, a tiny bit of pink tinging his cheeks and making him look adorable. You couldn’t help yourself from cupping his handsome face in your hands and leaning forward to brush a sweet kiss to his mouth. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you murmured, in between teasing kisses. “I love you when you’re grumbling about going pumpkin picking, and I love you when you’re spanking my pussy, and I love you when you’re bringing me my favorite coffee because you remembered what I liked.” 

You kept kissing him until Ransom was chuckling, his hand squeezing the back of your neck in an affectionate gesture. He reeled you in for a deeper kiss, cutting off your list of all the times you’d loved him. But you and Ransom were smiling too much to kiss properly, your teeth knocking against each other and making you both laugh even more. 

Your joyful laughter soon devolved into soft moans and grunts when Ransom rocked his hips, shifting his cock even deeper inside you. Your fingers threaded through his soft brown hair and you clung to him while you rolled your hips, grinding down on his stiff length until you were breathless with renewed desire.

“Fuck, nixie—nixie, ‘m not gonna last much longer,” Ransom groaned, his arms tightening around your back and holding you pinned against his chest while he fucked up into you. “Your pussy’s too perfect—too fucking warm and tight and good for me.” 

“Come inside me, Ran,” you whispered heatedly, feeling his cock twitch at your suggestion. You moaned softly in his ear. Your clit was grinding against the base of Ransom’s cock, and it wouldn’t be long before you came for a second time. “Please, daddy, fill me up—wanna feel your come leaking from my pussy while we’re picking pumpkins, daddy, please,” you begged in a pathetic whine.

“I love you—fuck, I love you so fucking much, nixie,” Ransom growled, pressing his face to your cheek and nudging you to the side until his mouth found yours. He kissed you so long and so deeply, it made your head spin, and he fucked you all the while, pounding into your cunt hard enough that the pleasure he gave you was edged with just enough delicious pain that you were falling off the edge and coming in no time.

Ransom swallowed your screams of pleasure as you came, your pussy clenching his cock hard enough that he followed right after, grunting into your mouth so that it was your turn to muffle his sounds with your lips. 

Coming at the same time was heady and all-consuming and you were so happy you felt like you could float away if it wasn’t for Ransom’s arms holding you so tightly to his chest. And you were glad for it, because you didn’t want to float away unless he came with you.

The two of you gradually eased down from your highs together, still kissing, still murmuring your love for one another as if you could pass the words between your lips as easily as you exchanged breaths.

Finally, your rocking bodies gently stilled and your racing hearts returned to steady, normal drumbeats. The September sun was bright, keeping you warm from the chill in the air as you snuggled into your sugar daddy—the man that you loved, and who loved you in return.

Your head was still spinning and trying to process everything you’d both admitted while laying against Ransom’s chest, your fingers playing idly with a loose thread in his sweater, when he finally broke the comfortable silence that had fallen.

“If we carve up some of these pumpkins, do I really have to clean out all the guts with my bare hands?”

His question, and the almost whining tone in his voice, had you choking on a surprised laugh. You leaned back, looking into Ransom’s face to see if he was joking, but he wasn’t looking at you. He was giving the pumpkin patch another dubious look, making you laugh again as you shook your head at him.

“No, you could wear gloves, and there’s usually a scoop that comes in the pumpkin carving kits at the store,” you explained to him, your tone filled with humor even as you kept it even and patient. “You don’t have to touch the pumpkin guts if you don’t want to.”

Your fingers stroked through the hair at the nape of his neck and he seemed to relax, though whether it was from your assurance or your touch, you couldn’t tell. You suspected it was both.

After a moment, Ransom seemed to reach some sort of decision because he heaved a deep sigh and met your gaze. His blue eyes were shimmering in the bright afternoon sunlight, and the affection in his gaze warmed you despite the chill in the air. 

“Alright, let’s find some pumpkins worth carving,” he said, though his grim tone made it sound like he was suggesting you both walk into battle. 

A smile spread across your face and you giggled happily. “You mean it?”

“Of course, nixie,” Ransom rumbled, leaning in and brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “There’s very little I wouldn’t do to make you happy—I thought that was clear when I agreed to an afternoon of pumpkin picking.” 

You laughed softly, ghosting your lips over his in a teasing gesture as your heart fluttered in your chest, happiness swooping through your belly. But still, his words didn’t exactly match up to your memory of events, especially given everything you’d done to get him to agree to the date—including the deal you’d made.

“Silly me, and here I thought it was because of the deal we made,” you murmured. 

“Mm, nope,” Ransom said, popping the ‘p’ in nope. “Woulda taken you pumpkin picking even without the deal—just liked watching you convince me.” He brushed feather-light kisses along your jaw, making you hum happily at the soft press of his lips after you snorted at his comment. “But now that you mention it, our arrangement extends to the pumpkin carving portion of this date, yeah?” 

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, having a hard time following the conversation when he sucked gently on the spot just beneath your ear that had your head falling to the side to give him better access. You shook your head lightly and found the words to form a proper response. “Sure, it lasts as long as the date does.”

You felt Ransom’s mouth curve as he smirked against the side of your neck. “Good,” he purred, kissing down your throat until he got to the line of your sweater. “Gonna make you suck my cock while I clean out our pumpkins.”

Buzzy excitement and warm desie flooded through you at his words and it was your turn to smile. You remembered that you’d considered offering to blow him to get him to carve pumpkins just that morning, so you obviously had nothing against his suggestion. You were eager for it to become a reality.

“Whatever you say, daddy,” you murmured in your sweetest voice. 

Ransom huffed an amused laugh before his mouth found yours again. 

The two of you kissed for a little while longer, until your knees and hips started to protest sitting in the same position on that big, fake pumpkin for so long. Ransom helped you down from his lap and towed you back toward the farm stand, so you could clean up in the nice employee bathroom—though he refused to give you your panties back.

You spent the rest of the early afternoon picking out pumpkins with Ransom, then he carried them back to his BMW and put them in the trunk. While he drove you both back to the city, he gave you his phone and told you to pick out your favorite of the photos he’d taken of you. 

You asked him if he only wanted you to pick from the lewd photos, and he told you to also pick one of the pictures he’d taken of you with your clothes covering you. When you asked him what it was for, he told you he wanted to frame it and put it on his desk in his office. Your heart fluttered when he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, admitting he missed you while he was at work.

If you hadn’t already known you were in love with him, you would’ve known then, your heart squeezing in happiness while your fingers tightened around his. Since you didn’t have to hold back your emotions anymore, you told him how much you loved him, and he responded by repeating the words and kissing your hand again.

The rest of the afternoon was spent at your townhouse apartment in Beacon Hill, cleaning out and carving the pumpkins you’d picked before putting candles in them and setting them on the steps outside your front door. Before the date was over, you even got Ransom Drysdale—your sugar daddy and the man that you loved—to admit he had fun. 

Of course, you had to promise you’d never tell anyone. But you assured him you could keep it secret, so long as he loved you. He grinned, and promised you he always would, then he sealed the deal with a kiss. 

And that was how an afternoon of pumpkin picking turned into a beautiful life together.

thanks for reading!! reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡♡♡

[chaoticallyfluffy]

I’ve been forced into reading Danny phantom fanfics because I’m desperate for Billy Batson content and for some reason half the stuff on ao3 is crossover stuff so I guess I like Danny phantom now?? Kind of?? I haven’t watched it and I don’t plan on it but I really like the idea of it.

Anywho,

Billy has maintained a very delicate balance of half truths and lies of ommision over the years to protect his identity as a literal child. He uses facts he learned from his patrons and his interest and knowledge in history, specifically Ancient Greece, to convince people he’s ancient.

Then one day this ghost guy joins the league claiming to be incredibly old as well except he just goes around straight up lying about stuff, saying whatever the hell he feels like about the past if it’s convenient to him or just funny. Most of it contradicts with the story Billy has been delicately weaving over the years and he’s kind of panicking.

One day he confronts the ghost guy and is like “I know your not actually ancient but I’m not a snitch, how old are you?”

And Danny kind of feels bad about pretending to be ancient in front of someone who has literally been around since at least Ancient Greece and confesses that he’s 14. Captain Marvel stares at him for a few minutes before breaking out in a big grin and transforming into a 12 year old Billy. They instantly become inseparable.

You’d think that Billy would ask Danny to stop lying all the time because it’s gonna get them caught, but no, he thinks it’s hilarious. Now whenever Danny says something absurd or directly contradictory of the actual history that Billy told them, they’re just like “oh yeah both of those happened at the same time but all the scribes were at the same spot so no one wrote about the other one and it was lost to time” or “there was a time loop for a good few years back in good old Greece so a lot of weird things happened that just didn’t stick.” Or “that did happen but only ghosts could perceive it.” Or sometimes, if they absolutely cannot get away with any other explanation, “dang must have dreamt it!”

The league is hopelessly confused and 90% sure they’re being messed with but they have no proof and if they look at the history at least MOST of the stuff they say is true so there’s really no reason to doubt it when Danny claims he once fist fought the god of time while the entirety of Rome cheered for him and placed bets, especially when Billy nods sagely and says he remembers having to clean up the space time continuum after the fight and that he lost the modern equivalent of ten bucks in the bet (he still doesn’t lie, just doesn’t disagree with the blatant dishonesty. He honestly did have to clean up the space time continuum multiple times after Danny messes with time a bit too much thanks to Clockwork + shenanigans. They make bets all the time too lol)

I think the contrast between ‘never lies’ and ‘lies all the time for funsies’ with the same motivation of ‘do the funniest thing possible at all times’ can be extremely entertaining and interesting.

[thewritingfairy]

↪ 12. Confrontation gone wrong!

PREV PART trigger warning: shouting, attempted gaslighting, medical + physical + emotional neglect, trackers, the yandereness is turning up slowly main m.list       series m.list

Nightwing’s behaviour was strange, odd even. But it wasn’t as weird as your family’s, ever since that one breakdown they’ve been acting like nothing happened. Like you’re apart of the family that they’ve shunned you from, yet they’re still keep cards close to their chess. And when you realised that Damian was showing up at your favourite hang out spots a bit too often, you got paranoid.

You always carry a messenger bag around, filled with little activities, extra medication and much more. But when you forgot it at home, or at your friends house you didn’t run into Damian. You didn’t run into your family at all.

And if your suspicions are correct? That bag is the reason why Damian keeps finding you.

You drop the contents of the bags on your bed, searching through it with such precision a surgeon would be jealous and then you found it. A trinket you don’t recognise, that looks like a magnet, but you’ve watched enough crime shows to know what it is. A tracker. “That little fucker,” you curse as you snap it without thinking. The strength that it took to do that was too much for you to use in one go, your body aching the second you broke it. “and now I’ve got high ass pain, thanks Damian. Fuck you too.”

But wait a minute, why would Nightwing follow little old you?

Why would any of the bats follow you?

You who never harmed anyone, you who is just a host at Cobblepot’s restaurant.

Either the bats are in Bruce’s pocket, or they are the bats.

The time-line of the younger vigilantes would make sense with your families time-line…. “Oh fuck no,” you curse as you quickly turn to your desk, rummaging through your drawer until you find a hard drive. You quickly plug it into your laptop and check if it works, and thank god it does. Even if you don’t know for sure that your family are the protectors of Gotham, you need to put the groundwork in for plan B. You need to send this all over to Maria, to Duke, to Francis, fuck, to everyone you can. To everyone you know and trust, you need to build rapport. Maybe… maybe even send this to your work…. No, that will be your plan C.

You make a group chat and you send a mass message; ‘Publish this if you don’t hear from me for a week and Maria doesn’t inform you where I am’. (attached; file (Name) and family incidents)

“(name),” Alfred says through the door, not even bothering with knocking. “Master Bruce expects you at dinner.”

You sigh, loud enough for Alfred to hear. “Yeah, I’ll be down soon!” you shout back as you shut off your laptop and hide your hard-drive once more. “Just need to freshen up real quick!”

When you hear him walk away you breath out in relief as you try to ignore the way your phone is blowing up.

As you ignore the way your heart fills with dread, and your body becomes tense and rigid with every step you take. You know Maria will have your back if your suspicions are correct, you know that Duke would have no issues with fucking everyone up if needed. But if your family is the ‘Bat’ family, he stands no chance. Unless… unless he’s Signal, which wouldn’t surprise you, he’s always ready to help others. But unlike the bats, he doesn’t seem afraid to get his hands dirty.

But there is no time to think about that right now, you have to face your fears.

You have to get this over with.

The moment you got to the dining hall your paranoia just got worse, especially with how Damian is staring at you, with how his arms are crossed. With how he looks like he’s been scolded through and through. Good, but you’ll still have to scold him for leaving a tracker in your bag, you will not tolerate such behaviour. And you never will, yet if you keep silent he might be bold enough to try again. To do so even smarter. “Well, you guys seem tense,” you comment without thinking as you sit down at your spot, which is next to Duke (thank god).

“Who wouldn’t be?” Damian asks, slamming his fist on the table. “When a family member has hidden their health to the extent you have!”

Your eyes snap towards Cassandra but she looks everywhere but at you. Duke clenches the arms of his chair, grounding himself before he does something he’ll regret. Luckily you have no problem with showing your anger, you have no problem with omitting the truth. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” you say as you tilt your head. “I’ve never hidden my health.”

Jason scoffs and you can see Dick roll his eyes, but most importantly you can see Bruce stare you down. A glare that you can only describe as identical to Batman’s. “Give me your phone,” he says, holding out his hands. “you’re grounded until you can tell us, me, the truth.”

You laugh, you can’t help it. “What truth?!” you shout, slamming your hands on the table. “I’ve tried telling you about my health when Jason attacked me, that I was scared about another flare up. But you dismissed it, I never lied, I just never told you.”

“You committed medical fraud,” Barbara points out.

“Can you blame them?” Duke asks, glaring at her. “When none of you took them to the hospital after they were in a coma?”

At least that gagged Barbara, too bad it didn’t shut Bruce up. “Your phone, (Name).” he stresses out, making a gimme hand motion (good thing you always have a back-up phone, huh), you throw it at them. And he catches it with ease. “Thank you.”

Jason groans, this wasn’t the confrontation he was expecting. He expected them to be harsher, not to offer you a way out by giving Bruce your phone. It pisses him the fuck off. “Oh my fucking god,” he curses, throwing his head back. “how the fuck did you get the hospital to give you surgeries, to give you researches without any adult present?!”

You stare at him, raising one of your eyebrows as you cross your arms. Looking as if you’re challenging him to explain why the fuck he thinks you would answer questions like that. And Jason is officially pissing of Duke, and from the look in his eyes Cassandra could assure Jason that he’s getting his ass beat during training. “Where’s your medication?” Stephanie asks, trying to diffuse the situation. “they’re heavy, wouldn’t it be handier if someone else handled them?”

You scoff; “iI someone is to handle my medication it’s Duke, and I don’t need help remembering how to take the pills I’ve been taking for fucking years thank you very much.”

Bruce runs his hand through his hair. “No, I am your father and we will have this conversation and you will give me your medication so that I can ensure you don’t take too much or too little!” he raises his vouce,

“Whatever,” you say as you roll your eyes, but your shoulders are tense and Duke rubs your back trying to keep him calm. “let’s just eat.”

“No,” Damian hisses out. “explain, now.”

You stare at him, wondering where he found the goddamn audacity and you reach in your pocket. Throwing the broken tracker at Damian. “When you explain this, you little shit.”

Duke curses, you never had heard such creative insults come out of his mouth. If you didn’t know better you would think these insults weren’t his own, truly he’s been spending too much time with Francis. But before Duke can stand up from his seat and threaten Damian in his face you shake your head. “Duke, glad that you at least seem to understand how grave this situation is,” you say with a smile. “but we should hear what this little shit has to say before either of us put our hands on him. He’s still a child you know, and I don’t condone child abuse.”

Unlike these fuckers, went unsaid but not unheard. It makes Duke smile. “I would love to hear his explanation,” Duke agrees. “but wouldn’t you also like to know how they got your medical history.”

You grin and pretend to have a dramatic eureka moment. “Oh, babs, did you just scold me for committing medical fraud, but how did you guys get my history?” you ask, pretending to be thinking. “ahah! You guys must have done something illegal as well? My oh my, did it also make you realise that neglect is illegal?”

It got silent, and it’s clear everyone’s waiting for Damian’s answer, but also Bruce’s comments. After all Alfred is just standing there in a corner as if he did nothing wrong. But when Bruce and Damian didn’t say anything, you grinned.

“That’s what I fucking thought.”

NEXT PART GUESS WHAT, :) this story is just going to get darker from here on out.

taglist closed: @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways, @ironsaladwitch, @shyenemyperson, @iamaunknownsecret

[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper —

sunghoon x reader

getting your cherry popped by your enemy

mature content featured, read at your own discretion

note: i know i know i said a writing schedule but this is my issue — i just want you all to read what i have planned so bad! i’ll start the schedule soon, ignore my last updated post

“you are infuriating!” you screeched, stomping your foot to the ground like a child.

“no, you are!”

“for goodness sake, you both are infuriating!” your professor interrupted your arguing with park sunghoon.

your worst enemy since middle school. now both ready to graduate university soon, nothing has changed.

you and sunghoon turned to your professor with looks of disgust towards one another. your professor has had you both in her classes for 3 semesters as you both shared a major.

“i’ve dealt with you two for too long! always arguing before, after, and during my lectures! you two can’t even stop bickering long enough to enjoy this nice class trip!” the professor rambled.

“professor, i really was trying to enjoy this trip—,” the professor cut you off

“no you haven’t! any given moment you started an argument with mr. park, knowing he will argue back. you two leave me no choice, you are to stay here in your rooms at the hotel, my assistant will be staying on the floor if you two need anything. he’ll most likely try to find a bonding exercise for you two.”

“if we stay here, that means we miss the exhibits!” sunghoon exclaimed, dark bushy eyebrows furrowed in confusion, hurt, and anger towards you.

the professor shrugged. “hopefully it’ll teach you a lesson like i teach my children.” she scolded, waving her finger at both of you.

you and sunghoon stood in the hallway of the hotel dumbfounded that you would be missing the exhibit you both were so excited to view. three months you’ve been waiting for this trip!

you groaned in annoyance, “you just have to ruin everything, huh?”

sunghoon turned to you wide eyed, “me? you’re the one always starting shit between us two!”

“you could just ignore me.” you shrugged trying to place the blame all on him.

“ignore you? i’ve tried, and you never let it go. you keep pestering like an annoying little bug until i reply to you.”

your lip turned up, “listen here you little—,”

“finish that sentence and i’ll ask the hotel to make you clean toilets.” your professors graduate assistant snapped.

you and sunghoon turned around to face the young guy who couldn’t be more than 3 years older than you.

“faked being ill because my girlfriend happened to come down to the city to see me. haven’t seen her in four months as we live apart,” the assistant began explaining, “but now i have to babysit two annoying little young adults who can’t get along for nothing!”

“man, you don’t have to babysit us. we can care for ourselves.” sunghoon stated.

“and risk you two sneaking off?” the assistant shook his head.

you crossed your arms, “so what do you want us to do?”

“the hotel is low on staff in the kitchen. they just need help with dishwashing and putting together cutlery.”

“no way! i don’t want my fingers to turn into raisins!”

“that’s why gloves were invented, cherry.”

you narrowed your eyes, ready to stab sunghoon if you could, especially at the nickname he’s given you for the past year.

“you two, kitchen, now. you can go to your separate rooms afterwards. don’t snitch on me, help the kitchen out, and i’ll tell the professor you two got along well enough to be able to join in on the activities tomorrow.”

“deal.” both you and sunghoon agreed.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

it was all going well—decently well for you and sunghoon until you dropped a plate in the sink, causing the water to splash both you and him.

he splashed water back, so now you and him were banned from dishwashing and instead wrapping cutlery for future hotel guests.

about an hour later, you both were only half way done through the giant bucket of clean dishes.

“this is exhausting!” you sighed. “my neck is starting to hurt.”

“stop whining and just keep going.” sunghoon replied quietly.

“what’s got your panties in a twist?”

sunghoon dropped the fork and spoon he was holding. “mhm, i don’t know, maybe you? always starting arguments with me.”

“you’re the one who started it, park sunghoon.”

“when did i ever start? you are the one who started it back in middle school.”

“middle school? sunghoon, i never even talked to you in middle school until that day you said my hair bow was ugly.” you reminded him.

that’s when sunghoon became your enemy. maybe for a stupid reason, but as a young girl, you had tried a new hair style with a hair bow after your mom made you get a hair cut, that the salon butchered.

you were insecure about it for a while, but it only really unsettled you when sunghoon came up to you one day during lunch telling you that your ‘hair bow was ugly, and nothing can make your hair look pretty again.’

since then, you’ve always sought out to ruin park sunghoon. whether it was getting better grades, to become top of the class. becoming class president so he’d be class vice president.

or even childish things like a whoopie cushion, taking a picture of him picking his nose in private, and even starting arguments over small things.

but the biggest would have to be when you started dating his friend second to last year in high school, you two only ending the relationship a little over a year ago.

kang taehyun.

it was a sneaky move to date your enemy’s friend. but it worked in your favor as just your presence annoyed sunghoon. he started to dislike you even more then.

but it wasn’t like sunghoon and taehyun were best friends, they just happened to be in the same friend group.

sunghoon remembered the day he called your hair bow ugly. he actually didn’t think it was ugly, but he was upset about what he overheard you and your friends at the time saying about him.

then when sunghoon found out you were actually dating taehyun, he couldn’t believe it. he would tease you and only bring it up to taehyun the reasoning for you to date his friend was to annoy him.

sunghoon used to hate seeing you around all the time when he just wanted to be with his friends. he especially disliked whenever taehyun would be too handsy with you.

“i only called your hair bow ugly because you and your friends made fun of me.” sunghoon sighed deeply. his lips went into a thin straight line as he went back to his deep thinking, focused on wrapping the silverware.

you looked at him surprised and confused. “sunghoon, when did my friends and i ever make fun of you?”

sunghoon sighed once more, wanting to forget the whole incident, but knew now was probably a good, but very late time to confront you about it.

“i overheard you all laughing at the fact i was a figure skater at the time, and said something about me being feminine.”

you stood there, too much in shock. your brain racked old memories and conversations, trying to remember that exact time. as you stood and stared, sunghoon continue on with the kitchen chore.

then it hit you, and you slightly chuckled. “sunghoon, we weren’t laughing at you. we were admiring you. the fact you was a boy doing figure skating? we were so impressed! and the feminine thing was a compliment, i promise! i swear as young girls we were jealous because you had a nice body we were jealous of at the time.”

sunghoon snapped his head toward you, observing you for any chance of a lie. he saw none as you stood there and smirked.

“you really called my hair bow ugly, to upset me, because you misheard my conversation with my friends?”

sunghoon scoffed, “well i mean, as a young boy, it was hard enough being a figure skater. i was just, don’t know, very introverted and shy.”

which he still was most times.

“you aren’t introverted or shy around me, sunghoon.”

“because i can’t be. you drive me up the wall on my nerves.”

you laughed. sunghoon liked the sound. he always did.

then he asked, “did i really hurt your feelings by saying your bow was ugly?”

you nodded. “yes you did. that started a war.”

“a war between us that i think we can now end?”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

after another hour, you all were close to finished when the kitchen staff let you go. rubbing your neck, you complained, excited to shower and just lay around for the rest of the night.

it was only 6 in the evening, and the exhibit went on until 9 pm, and you both were sure the professor and classmates would be off doing their own thing for the rest of the night as curfew wasn’t until 1 am.

“wanna watch a movie?” sunghoon asked, startling you. “i mean, there’s nothing else going on for us, and we could, maybe, keep each other entertained?”

you shrugged. “sure. just let me shower first. my room or yours?”

“mine. my friend and roommate, heeseung, snuck in some beer.”

you smiled. “perfect.”

half an hour later, you both were showered, in comfy clothes, and in sunghoon’s hotel room, sitting on the couch at the end of the beds watching a movie.

two drinks in, sunghoon was feeling bold. “why did you date taehyun?”

being caught off guard, you slowly turned your head, then tilted. “uh, why?”

“did you only date him because of me? to make me mad or jealous?”

“more to make you mad.” you teased with a wink.

“well congrats, you made me both mad and jealous by dating my friend.” sunghoon snickered, sipping his bottle of beer. he was no where near drunk or even tipsy. just a bit of extra courage running through his veins.

it was him watching you out of the side of his eye that got him this way. your laugh, your smile, the smell of you, so intoxicating.

you were more shocked and confused than ever. “sunghoon, what?”

sunghoon leaned down to look at your face, “taehyun used to bitch and moan that he could never get in your pants. that you would tease him, only willing to dry hump with him.”

you swallowed but rolled your eyes as well. taehyun always did complain that you never let him have sex with you. it never really bothered you.

taehyun knew you were a virgin. what he didn’t know was that whenever you thought about finally being intimate with him, all you thought about what sunghoon. all you could see was sunghoon. your thoughts were consumed of sunghoon whenever you thought anything sexual.

“why wouldn’t you have sex with your boyfriend, cherry?”

“why do you call me cherry?”

“answer me first.” sunghoon placed the bottle on the floor bedside him so he could turn his body to face you once more.

“uh, well i just didn’t want to have sex with him.” you shrugged one shoulder.

“why not?”

“eh eh, i answered you, your turn.” you tsked.

sunghoon bit his lower lip, staring at your lips as he replied, “because of that cherry lip gloss you always wear.”

you were wearing it now. not only did it look good against your skin, it tasted good too, whenever you got your nervous antics and chewed on your lip.

sunghoon always observed you putting that cherry lip gloss on your lips. it started with the cherry chapstick in high school, but just a little over a year ago you started wearing the cherry lip gloss.

“now answer me.” sunghoon demanded.

you took in a deep breath wondering how much or little to tell him. “well,”

“—was it because he wasn’t me?” sunghoon interrupted, your eyes going wide.

“sunghoon, no, what would give you that idea?”

“he told me he heard you calling out another guy’s name while playing with a toy of yours. he looked at me with anger and disbelief as if i had something to do with it.”

your eyes still wide, mouth shaped into an ‘o.’ you laughed nervously waving sunghoon off, “ah, he probably misheard me, that’s all.”

“i don’t believe you cherry.” sunghoon stated, standing up from the couch only to stand directly in front of you. eye level now with his crotch, you looked at him with innocent and confused eyes.

“sunghoon—,”

sunghoon stopped you mid sentence just by his thumbs hooking to the hem of his sweats, only pulling them down a little, teasing to pull out his cock.

“have you only kissed and dry humped him? what else have you done with him while thinking of me?” sunghoon clicked his tongue.

you shook your head. “sunghoon you’re mistaken!”

“sucked taehyun’s dick while thinking of me? mhm, even dry hump him thinking and wishing it was my lap you were rocking against?”

each sentence, sunghoon leaned in closer, mouth inches from yours. he could smell the cherry lip gloss of yours. excited to taste it finally.

you closed your eyes because—it was the truth. all of it. you blurted, “i never had sex with him because i’m a virgin!”

sunghoon chuckled, raising to his full height again. with a smirk, “mhm so my cherry was waiting to get her cherry popped by her enemy.”

you tightened your legs closer together for friction, but also to prevent yourself from becoming any wetter at just his words.

your movement didn’t go unnoticed from sunghoon. he got down on his knees in front of you. “has my cherry thought about getting ate out from her enemy? have you imagined it was me instead of taehyun going down on you?”

you shook your head, wanting to not believe this was happening. it wasn’t until you felt sunghoon’s teeth bite your thigh through your own bottoms, you snapped your eyes open.

“what was that for!”

sunghoon laughed, “be honest baby.” then, you nodded. “guess i’ll have to make your imagination become reality, huh?”

quick and easy, he got your bottoms off of your legs, and used his thumb to tease your clit through your underwear. a wet spot already beginning to form.

sunghoon’s eyes sparkled with neediness and excitement. he got up from his knees, you internally protesting, until his lips captures yours into a searing kiss.

he whispered against your lips, “so tasty, cherry,” as he continued to intensely work his lips against yours, loving the cherry lip gloss against his own lips.

he soon fell back to his knees, kissing up your right thigh before he moved your underwear to the side, poking his index finger to your cunt. he was met with tightness and some resistance, but only because it was a new feeling, new fingers for you. long, fingers to be exact.

sunghoon poked his index finger in your hole, followed by his middle finger, your legs opening wider for him, head rolling to the back of the couch with a groan. your hands gripped the couch, fingers digging into the cushions.

sunghoon then added a third finger, his ring finger, and your right leg went to hook over his shoulder, him holding your left wide open for him.

it was so much you wanted to snap your legs closed. sunghoon rocked his fingers in and out a few times, until your wetness covered his fingers, and he pulled out, quickly undressing you of your underwear. but just as quickly as his fingers were gone, it was replaced with his tongue and lips.

“sung—hoon!” you sang into a moan, left hand gripping his locks.

he moaned into your cunt, lapping up the juices you had to offer to him, occasionally using his k-9 teeth to nibble on your folds and clit. when his lips found home onto your clit, using his tongue to swirl, teeth to nibble, three of his fingers entered back into your cunt, no warning or teasing. he began rocking his fingers in and out in a medium pace, his tongue flicking your bud.

your chest and stomach began to tighten, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, head rolling onto the back of the couch from left to right. he removed his lips, fingers still, only to spit on your cunt, and got right back to work as if he didn’t pause to begin with.

this orgasm was about to be intense. taehyun never gave you mind blowing head like this. he was always decent, though. but sunghoon’s tongue was magic and had you coming way too soon.

“hoon!” you moaned loudly, hoping no one outside the door could hear you. “i’m—hoon, i—come—my goodness!” you babbled.

sunghoon used only his tongue while you came down from your first orgasm of the night.

your body jerked from the overstimulation, you pushing sunghoon’s head away.

“taste so good, cherry. better than i imagined.” he whispered once again, against your lips, before kissing you, his tongue poking through to find yours.

while kissing him, sunghoon grabbed you by your thighs so he picked you up and held you, turning around so he sat on the couch with you straddling him.

your wetness immediately started to stain his sweats, but he didn’t care. “hump me, cherry.”

“like this?” you asked. he wanted you to hump him? you bare below, him with his sweats?

you squealed when a palm of his came down to your bare ass. “it wasn’t an option, cherry.”

you nodded, biting your lip, as you began to rock your hips back and forth and in circles around his cock which was imprinting through his sweats. your cunt could feel the outline of him, getting wetter with each movement.

soon, you were on your way to your second orgasm. sunghoon’s hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements as you became more sloppy, only worried about reaching your second orgasm.

“that’s it cherry, use me like you’ve always wanted.” fuck sunghoon’s words were not (but was) helping.

your hands gripped his shoulders, trying to steady yourself as your movements increased as your orgasm was approaching.

your thighs started to become wet from your own juices, a big spot covering sungoon’s outline.

sunghoon pulled you closer as you came, he began sucking and kissing your neck, sending you over the edge even more.

your movements slowed down, as his hands stayed glued to your hips. your breathing became heavy against his collarbone, you giving it a peck, leaving a lip mark.

you’ve had two orgasms, sunghoon none. you leaned back to look sunghoon in the eyes. “what about you coming?”

sunghoon’s lips perked up, “cherry, i’ll come, don’t you worry.”

sunghoon from underneath, pulled down his sweat pants, your thighs and cunt somewhat hovering over him. you felt his tip brush against your folds, your body shivering with excitement.

you only hoped your toys prepared you enough for this moment. sunghoon pushed his sweats off as far as he could, down to his ankles. his shirt came off next, along with yours, leaving you both completely naked.

“cherry, i hope you used a dildo big enough.” he stated as he pulled a condom out from between the couch cushions. you were to entranced to even comment on that.

you bit your lip, “i hope so too, hoon.” you sighed against his lips, kissing him, as he helped you ease down on his hard cock after he put on the condom.

you bit down on his lip when he fully pushed you down on his length, a loud moan coming from you both.

“fuck, so tight cherry.” sunghoon groaned, head leaning back against the couch. “those toys did nothing to prepare you for me.”

you stayed still, both in a comfortable position. “i’m scared to move.”

“just go slow, okay?” sunghoon’s fingertips ran up and down your spine to comfort you. with a sigh of pleasure, you lifted your hips to the tip only, to slowly push back down.

you were sure you felt him in your stomach. slowly, you kept a rhythm of up and down on his length, occasionally rocking your clit forward for friction.

soon your thighs were starting to tense and become tired. “hoon, can—can you take over please?” you sighed against his cheek, nose resting in his neck.

without even removing himself from in you, sunghoon stood up from the couch, your wetness dripping in between the both of you. he carried you over to his bed, your legs wrapped around him.

he laid you on the bed, again, never slipping from inside you. his hand found one of your hips, the other resting against your cheek.

“let me know if it’s too much.” sunghoon stated before he pulled out completely only to push back with such force, your cunt squelched, your eyes shutting, a loud moan leaving your lips.

“fuck! sunghoon!”

you wasn’t expecting that. but honestly, you wasn’t expecting or even wanting him to be gentle.

for the next however long, which felt like hours, sunghoon rutted his cock in and out of your cunt with ease, your wetness spilling out on your thighs and his.

his thumb came down to your clit, rubbing left, right, up, and down, stimulating you just right to bring you to your third orgasm of the night.

“that’s it cherry, baby come on my cock. come on your first cock. fuck!” sunghoon moaned. “such a dirty slut thinking about your enemy while with that ex of yours.”

“hoon—sorry,” you apologized for no reason at all. why was you apologizing?

“wanted me to be the one to pop your cherry? got your wish.” sunghoon sighed, his pace of thrusts speeding up and becoming sloppy as he was chasing his first orgasm. “fucking whore thinking of me while playing with your toys. imagining it was me eating you out. kissing you. all while with—,”

with a loud, explosive moan, you cut sunghoon off as you came for the third time. no squirting involved, but you did have so much wetness dripping out of you, anyone could be mistaken.

sunghoon released into the condom with a low, throaty, growl-like moan, collapsing on top of you before rolling off.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

sometime in the middle of the night, you heard hush whispers. you didn’t move an inch, only somewhat, subconsciously listening.

“sorry man, i can ask her to leave?”

“absolutely not! i’ll go bunk with her roommate for this trip. once i tell her why i need somewhere to sleep she will be more than thrilled.”

it was heeseung, coming in after 3 am. once he saw you and sunghoon in the same bed, he didn’t even ask questions, only smiled.

about damn time you two fucked the anger out of one another.

sunghoon crawled back in bed next to you, your body only covered by a shirt of his. sunghoon stared at your sleeping figure with a smile.

you were finally his.

[mv1simp]

max taking advantage of innocent!best friend!reader … like a dynamic where he spoils her a lot and has made him look her think that all his strange behaviors/touches are normal

I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH THIS IDEA FOR AGES THANK U FOR GIVING ME AN EXCUSE TO WRITE IT 🙏🙏🙏

Friends ♥️

Max Verstappen x Childhood Best Friend!Reader

And what the hell were we, tell me we weren’t just friends, this doesn’t make much sense, no

Max has been your closest friend since childhood, promising to always look after you. Sure, everyone gossips that you two are secretly dating, that it’s not normal for friends to be so close, so touchy - but Max blows it all off. So when you ask him for help when you want to get a boyfriend for the first time, it shouldn’t be a problem because Max doesn’t like you like that…right?

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, innocent virgin! Reader, manipulative dark best friend! Max, dubcon, size kink, dom/sub, somnophilia, recording, this is DARK 🥸 3.3k WC

You and Max had grown up close together, your families being good friends as your fathers had raced together back in the day. He had been shy and awkward when you met, age 5 and 6, but as soon as he had stepped in front of you in defence when you had been bullied in school the next day, you vowed to always be loyal to him. Your families approved the friendship, laughing and taking pictures when you two would play house - Max always being the husband doll to your wife doll, of course. You two did everything together - school, holidays, racing where you always came to support him bearing snacks and words of encouragement. So when he asked you at age 18 to move with him to Monaco you didn’t even hesitate to say yes - not imagining a life without your Maxie by your side.

Your move raised a few eyebrows from your family, who had been suprised that you hadn’t outgrown what they had thought was an innocent childhood crush. Your older sister had been especially worried at the thought of you alone in a new city with only Max there to support you. She noticed, sometimes, when he thought no one was watching - how his eyes would be watching you, in a way eerily similar to how a wolf watched a lamb he was about to devour whole. Althought it had taken a lot of pleading from your end to win her over, it had been easy enough to convince your parents to let you go, explaining you were enrolling in Monaco University - being bankrolled by Max’s new generous F1 salary - and yes, promised that you were staying in your own separate apartment. And that had been the plan, but when you stood in the entrance to Max’s penthouse a few weeks later, dripping head to toe with sprinkler water because somehow your up to code apartment had a fire when you had been out, he had insisted you stay at his until you found a new place - just for a short while. A short while then turned into a long while which then turned into the lockdown and at the end of it all Max had said you just couldn’t leave, he was too used to having you there that coming home to an empty apartment would be too hard. And although you had worried, saying that as you both got older it might be strange that you now lived together and people would talk, Max shot down all your concerns, reassuring you with a warm hug and sweet kiss to your forehead that the only opinion that mattered was yours, and as long as you’re happy Schat, I don’t really care what anyone else thinks. You had blushed from the affection and that was the end of that discussion.

You’d always been quite sheltered, naive even - and going to a strict private school meant you hadn’t had any romantic or sexual experience whatsoever. Growing up, it was clear to the adults around you that you had always held a crush on Max, and althought the older boy would always look out for you, he didn’t reciprocate to the same way - at least that’s what they thought. They hadn’t noticed that when you two had been gently separated one night when it had been deemed you were too old to sleep in the same bed anymore, Max had crept back and grabbed your hand as he lay next to you, mumbling he couldn’t sleep without you, liefje. No one noticed that this habit continued well into your teens, when Max would climb in through your bedroom window - initially making you freak out but soon reassured by Max’s words that your parents were just too strict, you were just two best friends wanting to spend time together.

And the first time you woke up one morning to feel something thick and hard pressing into you from the back, scaring you a bit, Max had gently rubbed your shoulder from the back while telling you it was okay, it’s just something that happens sometimes when a guy sleeps next to a pretty girl, you had blushed and accepted the compliment. And no one knew that behind closed doors your chaste goodbye kisses to Max’s cheek began turning into loving kisses on the lips when he had tilted your head up, saying he was going to miss you so much when he went on his first F1 race and he deserves a goodbye kiss for good luck from you, didn’t he?

And of course you would always give Max whatever he asked for since he was your best friend, your protector, the person you loved the most in the world. He’d pay for you, drive you everywhere, cheer you up when you were down, make you laugh, patiently take you shopping and rate every outfit you tried on, fight anyone who dared to give you a hard time - and the rest of the paddock had definitely noticed the lingering attentions of the Redbull driver to his childhood friend. Daniel and Lando constantly gave him shit for it, saying he needed to grow a pair and just confess instead of making puppy eyes at his “best friend”. Max always just rolled his eyes at their gossiping ways.

But it was hard to deny their claims when Max would pull you in to sit on his lap at a games night making everyone smirk at you, or when you would emerge from his hotel room the next morning since you two still shared a bed everytime you went away - it’s just like a sleepover when we were little, scatje, nothing wrong with it - or when at fancy award ceremonies or galas Max would be photographed in his tux, a vogue model at his side as his latest girlfriend - and you on his other side, wearing a luxury dress he’d brought for you. The paparazzi would eat up the dirty looks Max’s flings would always be shooting you, knowing they always came second to his best friend.

The thing was, even when sometimes doubt would flicker in your mind that things were too intimate, too romantic, between you and Maxie - you couldn’t bring yourself to want to draw back. You’d always secretly had such a crush on the older boy growing up, but since he had never directly reciprocated and was now a big world champion with women around every corner in Monaco after him, you’d learnt to accept your feelings were unrequited and you needed to stop reading so much into Max’s pure intentions to look after you. After all, that’s what best friends did, right?

And oh, did Max look after you. It seemed every week he’d level up more and more. Matching jewellery and heels to go with the designer dresses, and lately you had come home to find matching lingerie in Max’s favourite colour, dark blue. You had blushed furiously, feeling an indescribable icky pit in your stomach and remembering your sister’s warnings - Max goes too far, he pushes the boundaries of a normal friendship - but Max put all your worries to ease over the homecooked dinner you made him that night, explaining that the latest dress just happened to come with matching accessories and he wanted to make sure that you felt beautiful in all the layers you wore and it was normal to give your best friends gift, no? But he could return it if you’d prefer… prompting you to hastily accept his intimate gift, reassuring him that it was so thoughtful and you were so grateful. He’d looked so pleased with your response that when he ordered more and more sets, each one getting just a touch more lacier and risqué, you just thanked him for each one. And when he asked you how you found your gift, could he have a look at it, please schatje, I always help you pick your prettiest outfits right? You had nodded in agreement, blushing but shyly pulling his hoodie off your torso to expose the outrageously expensive La Perla black lace set you wore, accentuating your plump ass and pushing your tits up for him to hungrily look at. Max’s gaze had lingered there for a long time, his gaze turning dark and you had felt that same uncomfortable pit begin to settle in your stomach again when he saw the look on your face and patted your soft, chubby waist in reassurance, saying don’t be embarrased, schat, we always grew up seeing each other like this, right? Remember that photo of us swimming in that pool in Ibiza? Completely naked? Besides, you’ve seen me shirtless so many times, this is the same as that. That was true, you accepted dreamily, and not thinking anything of it when Max started asking you to send photos of you modelling the cute sets he’d get delivered to you when he was away. You happily snapped away mirror selfies, in all the different angles he wanted to see you from, even strange ones you weren’t quite sure about like bend over and stick your hips right up in the air, hmm schat?

He’d kiss you goodbye now all the time, saying you were his cute little good luck charm, with the expectation that you’d open your lips wide for him, letting him shove his tongue into your mouth and explore it to his hearts content. Gotta have a better kiss to get better luck. It felt so nice and made you feel all tingly between your legs so you would never turn it down. And since Max was away more and more with his racing schedule, often he would come home and fall asleep straight in your bed, saying he had missed being away from you so much. You had thought it was so sweet, no one else but you got to see Maxie like that, you were the only one he depended on. So you easily wrapped yourself up in his embrace, just like when you two had been little - except this time Max would say you’re so tense, schat, let me help you relax a bit, my physio knows this great muscle relaxation technique-

And it felt soo nice when he rubbed your sensitive little body up and down, you had no complaints, not even when some nights he would travel much, much lower down your plush little tummy than he had before. You just obediently parted your legs for him when he commanded in his deep voice, running his thick finger up your slit through your wet lace panties. And sometimes you’d wake up to feel that very familiar hardness of his behind you, soo warm now as he took himself out of his sweatpants and let his cock rest against you. Feels all tense, sweetheart, cause you kept rubbing against it last night and I didn’t get any sleep he would sigh.

You’d feel terrible, apologising profusely for interrupting his precious sleep when he trained so much, asking how you could make it up to him when Max had said just gonna let it relax out onto you, yeah? Don’t worry, you can even go back to bed, baby. You’d nodded sleepily, so grateful that Maxie was so sweet he always put your sleep first, even when his had been deprived.

He’d waited before you were comfortably nuzzled back against him, breaths turning deeper as sleep overtook you before slowly lifting your damp panties out of the way, and sliding his leaking tip just along the entrance to your innocent hole, making you moan, half asleep cause it felt soo good, and you felt so guilty that you felt so much pleasure while Max had just become frustrated overnight. With your eyes screwed shut you’d never notice the dark lustful look in his eyes, the evil smirk on his face as he had his way with you, letting him getting away with practically murder if it was for the sake of your friendship. You let him continue gliding his cock along your puffy folds, his tip repeatedly stimulating your sensitive clit, his large hands coming up to fondle at your boobs that has somehow slipped out of your camisole and gently flick your nipples before he tensed, holding you tightly against him as his breaths quickened. You has felt something warm and wet leaking out from the sides of your panties. You looked down, dazed, but Max shushed you back asleep, lulling you into his arms again. And when you woke up next you always had a clean pair of fresh panties on, camisole tucked back down over your thick hips, Max no where in sight.

As you grew up, your sexual curiosity eventually began to peak. When all of your friends in uni had gotten boyfriends and giggled to you about how good sex felt, you had gotten curious too. of course, you would never bring it up with Max even though you two talked about everything - because you should only be talking about sex with your future boyfriend, right? But one day when you had come home early from class you had heard lewd noises coming from Max’s bedroom. So lewd that you had been unable to stop yourself from peeking through a slight gap. The sight of Max thrusting himself into his latest girlfriend, her face pushed down into the mattress as he drilled into her from the back made you blush furiously. You’d stood there for a little while, your panties getting damp at the sight of sweat dripping down Max’s abs before you had caught yourself and scurried away, so guilty about violating Max’s privacy like that. You were such a creep, what was wrong with you?!

But that afternoon had also made you realize Maxie had so much more experience than you as you hadn’t been sure what a lot of the movement and positions you had seen that day were. And Max had said you could always ask him for help with anything, right? You couldn’t quite build up the courage to ask him - until your classmate asked you out one day, making you giddy with excitement but come crushing down when he had later found out on the date that you were a virgin, and had said maybe it was best for you to be with someone who was more on your level, that he didn’t feel comfortable being with someone so inexperienced for a casual fling. You’d come home sobbing, running straight into Max’s arms in your cute little dress and strappy heels, crying Maxie, he was so mean, you’d never believe what he said-

Max had been furious when you told him the story. He was so, so angry - not only at your classmate, but at you, for going on this date and not telling him, the way you would always tell Max about everything you did in your day. How could you be so careless, so slutty to go out with a guy like that? Max demanded, making your eyes widen and cry harder. It’s those new girlfriends of yours, aren’t they, they’re such fucking whores.

You’d never seen him so angry before, not even when he had a DNF at a race weekend. He’d only seems to calm down when you had looked up at him with innocent eyes, pleading Maxie, please, will you teach me how to be a good girlfriend, I don’t want to be so inexperienced anymore.

He’d sighed and run his hands through your hair, wiping away the tears that had made mascara drip down your cheeks. Of course, schat. I’ll show you exactly how to be a good little girlfriend. But promise me that you won’t talk to another guy without my permission first, okay? I have to protect you and make sure that you’re trained enough to have a boyfriend.

It was so, so sweet of Max to take time out of his busy schedule to help your embarrassing problem, you thought dreamily. You never noticed that your classmate never turned up to class again, but did have to go to hospital that week for a new black eye and bruised ribs.

Meanwhile, Max first started your “lessons” by showing you how to pump him from soft to a raging erection, guiding your hands into his sweatpants and moving your hands up and down, after you spit cutely into your palms to ease the glide. You didn’t notice the smirk on his face as he watched your struggle to jack off his entire sizeable length with your tiny palms.

Then he’d shown you how to use your mouth to make him feel good. You’d sat on your ass for hours in between his legs as he absentmindedly played his game, drawing kitten licks up his shaft before he’d taken over and told you to relax that tight throat of yours, baby, as he shoved his cock inside your mouth. He’d jackhammered away happily without any regard for the tears that emerged from your eyes. You had coughed, spluttered, throat raw for days as Max made you practise on the daily, tutting at you in mock disappointment when your gag reflux got in the way and you stopped halfway down his length. He’d pulled you up to sit on his lap, his hard cock wedged in between your plush thighs, as he put a dirty video onto the TV - petite ebony deepthroats massive white cock like a pro.

You had blushed and stuttered at the obscene video, looking away at one point but Max had forced your head back to look at the scene, saying don’t miss this bit, schat, look how she doesn’t forget about his balls, yeah?

You’d watched video after dirty video until you had perfected your blowjob technique exactly to Max’s likings. You look up obediently at him as he points his phone at you, flash on and all, recording your performance for reference, of course scatje, we need to track your progress, right? as you sloppily took his hard cock into your eager mouth, all the way to the base, gag reflux well and truly trained out of you from his daily discipline.

You’d woken up the next morning to find Max’s blonde curls between your legs, his tongue sweetly licking at your most innocent parts and you had squealed in shock, Maxie what are you doing ohmygod- but he quickly thrust his fingers into your drooling mouth to shut you up, just progressing to the next level, sweetheart, you need to learn to cum whenever I ask you too.

You’d squeaked and whined as his tongue didn’t stop flicking your clit, his fingers now joining in abusing your poor little virgin cunny until you begged him to pull away, Maxie please I feel funny, I think I’m going to pee- Ahhh!!! You’d ended up squirting all over his fingers and tongue, immediately passing out from exhaustion at the sheer intensity and missing the dark, pleased grin on Max’s face as he licked up your juices from his fingers. God, it was almost too easy to brainwash you into his perfect little pet. Soon he’d having you asking him to claim your virginity, he just knew it. And he would not hesitate, taking what had always belonged him anyways. He’d have made you his housewife a long time ago if your goddamn sister hadn’t kept cockblocking him.

Never mind that. Even she wouldn’t be able to withhold her blessing when you’d turn up at the next family gathering, glowing and expecting his child, he thought darkly. Smirking to himself, Max unbuttoned his pants, freeing his hard cock. In fact, why wait to feed you some bullshit excuse about how no baby, virgins can’t get pregnant the first time or no, I can’t use a condom, schat, it’s bad for you to have something unnatural inside you.

He might as well start now and give you a thick creampie as your present to wake up to later ♥️ After all, you’d take it like the good girl you always were for him.

—————————————————————————

A/N: Chile anywaysssss don’t mind me and my depraved thoughts. Gotta go drink some holy water fr. Lmk what you guys thought! Feel free to request more x

[aerialmirrorss]

𝐬 𝐥 𝐨 𝐰 𝐦 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ zach maclaren

playing: 𝟏𝟖 by one direction 𝜗𝜚˚｡˚ ⋆

synopsis! every winter break, you and your childhood best friend zach’s families plan the annual trip to your family’s cabin in the mountains. but when an accident happens, a guilt-ridden zach is willing to do whatever it takes to make you feel better.

paring: zach maclaren x fem!reader

warnings: childhood friends to lovers , zach accidentally hurts reader , mentions of bruising , angst , lots of fluff (zach is so hopelessly in love with you it hurts) , sexual content + unprotected sex! , fingering , mature , 18+ (minors dni!)

word count: 8.2k

notes: today’s post is a long one but bear w me pls i had to edit so much of it :(

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“can you grab the spare?” zach calls from the back of the range rover, tugging the luggage out of the trunk.

stepping out of the car, the icy air hits your face like a slap, the sudden chill turning your nose pink and making your cheeks tingle.

“fuck, it’s freezing,” you mutter under your breath, hurrying over to the pile of rocks near the cabin door. your fingers, already stiff and trembling from the cold, fumble as you dig through the stones, searching for the fake rock with the hidden spare key.

finally, you find it and unlock the door. you and zach waste no time rushing inside, flipping on the furnace and switching on the electric fireplace. warm air begins to spill into the room, cutting through the biting chill.

“jesus, it’s brutal out there,” zach says with a laugh, dropping the suitcases by the front door.

“i know,” you reply, rubbing your hands together for warmth. “i don’t get how our parents do it when they get here first.”

your gaze sweeps over the cabin, familiar and cozy even in its current state of disarray. a small smile creeps onto your face as memories flood back. by the time your family usually arrives, the maclarens have already set everything up—lights twinkling, garlands hung, the whole place transformed for the holidays.

but not this year. this year, you and zach got here first. being in college has made it easier for the two of you to make the trip, especially since it’s only a short drive from campus. with your parents tied up at work, they won’t arrive for another two days, leaving you and zach to settle in and prepare the cabin yourselves

zach seems to read your mind as he heads toward the storage closet under the staircase. “the moms mentioned something about the decorations being in here,” he says, pulling open the door.

he starts rummaging through the piles, expecting to find boxes labeled xmas. instead, his hand lands on a stack labeled snowboarding gear. a small smile tugs at his lips.

“guess the decorations can wait,” he says, pulling out the boxes. turning to you, he raises an eyebrow, and you meet his look with a knowing nod. “get dressed.”

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you glide across the flat, powdery snow after hopping off the ski lift. the cold air nips at your cheeks, leaving them rosy and warm beneath your baby pink goggles. when you finally stop at the edge of the slope, you tug the goggles up onto your helmet, panting softly as mist forms in the cold air.

zach approaches behind you, stopping at your side. you look up at him, your eyes bright with excitement. “hi,” you say, your breath still catching from the climb.

“hey,” he replies, chuckling softly, his voice warm and steady. he feels something tighten in his chest—your voice, your smile, the way you look at him. if only you knew how effortlessly you could bring him to his knees.

but he would never say it. not to you. not when it could risk the friendship you’ve built over years.

you’ve been inseparable since second grade, when zach worked up the courage to ask for your help mastering the monkey bars. you were the only one who could make it all the way across without falling, and he’d admired you ever since. now, here you are—still together, still tangled in a friendship that means everything, even if it sometimes feels like it could be so much more.

zach isn’t sure when his feelings for you started to shift, turning into something he couldn’t quite name but couldn’t ignore either. maybe it was that afternoon when he was twelve, bedridden with a nasty cold, and you showed up unannounced with a thermos of homemade chicken soup. the soup had been borderline inedible—too salty, with mushy noodles—but the gesture had warmed him in a way he’d never forget. of course, he’d eaten every last bite and told you it was perfect.

or maybe it was on his fifteenth birthday. he’d always treated his birthday like any other day, never one to make a big deal of it, but you didn’t see it that way. while he was out, you snuck into his room and filled it with many presents and blue and black balloons—his favorite colors. he’d walked in, startled by the effort you’d put in just to make him smile, and something about it stuck with him.

or maybe it was the night he ended things with his first long-term girlfriend at seventeen. her problem had been you—the closeness you and zach shared, the bond she couldn’t understand. she’d wanted him to choose, and it wasn’t even a question. when you found out, you didn’t say “i told you so” or press him for details. instead, you showed up with a bag of junk food and a stack of movies. you stayed the whole weekend, laughing, crying over sappy scenes, and talking until the early hours of the morning about your dreams and futures.

in every timeline, in every version of his life, zach knows he’d choose you. over a girlfriend, over a best friend, over anyone.

a soft click pulls zach from his thoughts. glancing down, he sees you already strapped to your snowboard, your goggles perched perfectly on your face. you reach up, offering your hand for help. with barely any effort, zach pulls you to your feet, earning a giggle that tugs at his chest more than he cares to admit.

“i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of this view,” you say softly, taking in the snow-draped mountains and the endless horizon of white and blue.

zach crouches down, fumbling slightly as he straps himself into his board. his fingers falter when he glances up at you. the way your smile glows as you take in the scenery—it’s more breathtaking to him than the view itself.

“yeah,” he murmurs, his voice quiet. “me either.”

you turn to him with a playful glint in your eye. “race you down?”

zach chuckles, shaking his head as he secures his last buckle. “no.”

you blink at him, brows furrowing. “why not?”

“because,” he says, standing and stretching, a smug grin tugging at his lips, “i’ll smoke you so fast it’ll almost be sad.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes at the playful jab, but the spark of competition ignites instantly. zach knows you well enough to see it too. before he can say another word, you tug your goggles down, lean forward, and launch yourself down the slope, your speed kicking up a flurry of snow in your wake.

“cheater!” zach yells after you, his voice echoing through the mountain air.

your laughter rings out, light and carefree, as you pull your face cover up to shield yourself from the biting cold. with a determined grin, zach pulls down his goggles and takes off after you, the race already on.

the descent starts smoothly, the rush of cold air whipping past your face as you carve through the snow, the thrill of the slope igniting your competitive streak. you glance over your shoulder, spotting zach gaining on you. he’s fast—faster than you expected—and his determined grin sends a surge of adrenaline through you.

you try to pick up speed, leaning into the next turn, but your edge catches an icy patch. it happens so quickly—a sharp jolt, your balance slipping, and suddenly, you’re tumbling. the world tilts, snow sprays into the air, and before you can even react, you collide with something solid.

or rather, someone.

zach.

the two of you go down in a tangled heap, his snowboard slicing awkwardly into the snow as he tries (and fails) to stop in time. his arms instinctively wrap around you as you both slide a few more feet before finally coming to a stop in a soft bank of powder.

for a moment, everything is still.

you blink up at him, stunned and breathless, your goggles slightly askew. zach’s face hovers inches above yours, his cheeks flushed—not just from the cold.

“you good?” he asks, his voice laced with concern, though his lips twitch into a small smile.

you can’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the moment catching up to you. “yeah… i think so. you?”

he nods, chuckling now too. “well, i wasn’t planning on eating snow, but at least i cushioned your fall.”

you roll your eyes, shoving at his chest lightly as he helps you sit up. “cushioned my fall? you practically tackled me.”

“only because you fell first,” he counters, his grin widening.

despite the snow seeping into your clothes and the ache of your tumble, you find yourself laughing again. zach stands, brushing snow off himself before offering you his hand. as he pulls you up, you notice his gaze lingering just a little longer than usual, his smile softer now.

just as the rush of laughter and adrenaline starts to fade, a sharp, sudden pain slices through your side, stealing the breath from your lungs. you gasp, instinctively clutching your side. “ouch.”

zach’s smile vanishes, his brows knitting together in concern. “what? what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know, i—” another sharp pang makes you wince, doubling over slightly as you shuffle off to the side of the slope, out of the way of other snowboarders. your hands fumble to tug off your gloves, urgency overriding the cold.

you shove the gloves into zach’s hands without a word and begin unzipping your snow jacket, pulling up your thermal layer to investigate. you crane your neck to look, but the angle makes it impossible to see what’s wrong. the pain is sharp and unrelenting, leaving you wincing as you try to figure it out.

“can you see anything?” you ask, your voice tight.

but zach’s expression answers before he says a word. his eyes widen, his face draining of color as he steps closer, urgency in every movement.

“oh shit,” he mutters, already crouching down to get a better look.

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“intercostal muscle strain,” the doctor says, her tone calm but firm as you sit up with a wince. “you’re very lucky—it could’ve been a fractured or broken rib, and that would’ve been far more painful than what you’re feeling now.”

you nod slowly, wincing again as you pull your clothes back down over your bare torso.

“it’s nothing serious, thankfully,” she continues, scribbling something onto a notepad. “but you’ll need to take it easy—no snowboarding for at least a week.”

you groan dramatically, throwing your arm over your eyes in exasperation, only to regret it instantly as the ache in your side flares. you hiss through your teeth, lowering your arm gingerly.

the doctor hides a small smile at your frustration. “get plenty of rest, and take two 500mg Tylenol every 4–6 hours to help with the pain,” she advises. “for the bruising, you can pick up some arnica gel or aloe vera at a pharmacy—it’ll help with the inflammation.”

zach, who’s been quietly standing at your side the whole time, finally speaks up. “so no snowboarding at all?”

“none,” the doctor confirms, looking at you pointedly.

zach lets out a quiet sigh of relief, grateful nothing was broken, though the guilt still gnaws at him. that tumble had cost you a week of your vacation, and the thought that he played a part in it made his chest ache.

his hand rests idly on the edge of your pillow, his mind clouded with regret, when he suddenly feels your fingers brush against his. his gaze shifts to yours, and he knows immediately that you’ve read him like a book.

the doctor steps out, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. she’s seen the unspoken bond between the two of you—something that everyone else seems to notice, even if you and zach haven’t admitted it to yourselves.

“i’m so sorry—” zach starts, his voice heavy with remorse, but you cut him off with a gentle shake of your head.

“it wasn’t your fault, zach,” you say firmly, your voice soft yet steady. your fingers trace small patterns on the back of his hand, grounding him. “there was no way to stop that fall from happening, or for you to avoid crashing into me. it was just… one of those things.”

zach looks down at your intertwined fingers, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

you smile, swinging your legs carefully over the edge of the bed to stand. “though i do wish you hadn’t elbowed me so hard in the process.”

your playful jab makes him groan, dropping his head into his hand. “you’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“not a chance,” you tease, grinning as you test your balance on your feet.

his guilty expression softens into something lighter, his lips quirking into a small smile as he watches you. “fair enough,” he murmurs, his tone filled with a mix of relief and something deeper he doesn’t quite let himself say.

as per the doctor’s advice, you and zach stopped at a nearby pharmacy on the way back to the cabin, picking up some arnica gel for the swelling and a bottle of tylenol. zach had insisted on carrying everything, even as you rolled your eyes and tried to insist you were fine.

back at the cabin, he’d gone into full caretaker mode. now, you were nestled on the couch in your favorite pajamas, surrounded by fluffed pillows, a warm blanket, and fuzzy socks. zach had even turned on your favorite comfort show, leaving no detail overlooked.

in the kitchen, you could hear him speaking quietly with your parents on the phone. the tone of his voice was calm and reassuring, though you caught a few words here and there about “keeping an eye on her” and “following doctor’s orders.”

“yeah, I will. alright—yeah, sounds good, I’ll let her know. oh- okay. bye.”

zach ended the call, setting his phone down on the kitchen island before heading over to you with a water bottle, a couple of tylenol pills, and a snack bowl balanced in his hands. he plopped onto the couch next to you, a small laugh escaping as he handed you the items.

“let me guess,” you started, mockingly, “make sure she’s actually taking the pain meds and don’t let her go snowboarding no matter how much she begs.”

zach laughed, shaking his head. “pretty much. they’re just worried about you. it took a lot of convincing to stop them from dropping everything at work and driving straight to the hospital.”

you took the water bottle and pills, rolling your eyes as you scanned the label. “this is bullshit. i feel fine. it doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.”

zach raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “don’t lie. i can hear you cursing under your breath every time you move too fast.”

he twisted open the water bottle and popped open the tylenol, handing them back to you with an air of exaggerated patience.

“i can open my own stuff, you know,” you grumbled, though you took both from him.

“sure, you can,” he said, leaning back against the couch with a smirk. “but this way, i get to feel useful. so, humor me.”

you roll your eyes but oblige, popping the pills into your mouth and washing them down with a gulp of water. for the rest of the afternoon, you and zach fully embraced the art of laziness. you binged several episodes of your comfort show, made your way through the entire snack bowl, and eventually ordered pizza, which arrived just as the last crumbs of chips were devoured—all within four hours.

the warmth of the blanket, the soft hum of the TV, and the exhaustion from the day caught up with you. before you knew it, your eyes drifted shut, the drowsiness overpowering. when you woke, it was to the gentle sensation of zach’s fingers absentmindedly scratching your scalp, the rhythm soothing and familiar.

blinking groggily, you realized your head was resting on his chest. you froze for a split second, then relaxed as the memory of shifting there for comfort came back to you. his chest was sturdy, warm, and—well—perfectly positioned to avoid putting pressure on your sore side. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“hi,” you croaked, voice raspy with sleep.

“hey,” zach replied softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. his hand paused in your hair briefly before he added, “you need to put the arnica gel on your bruise.”

you groaned in protest, burying your face further into his chest like a stubborn child. the vibration of his laugh rumbled beneath you, warm and familiar.

“c’mon,” he coaxed, leaning forward carefully so you weren’t jostled, reaching for the small container of arnica on the coffee table. his other arm stayed around you, steadying you as he sat back.

with a reluctant sigh, you pushed yourself off him, grumbling as you lifted your pajama shirt just enough to expose the bruised area. even with the pain dulled from the meds, the stretch made you wince, and you let the shirt drop again with a frustrated groan.

“can you help me put it on?” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

zach hesitated for a beat, the question catching him off guard. you didn’t notice, but his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, the proximity and intimacy of the request making his pulse quicken.

“yeah, of course,” he said, his voice steady despite the way his heart raced. he unscrewed the lid, squeezing a small amount of the gel onto his fingers before looking at you. when you nodded, he shifted closer, his movements gentle and deliberate as he applied the gel to your side.

his touch was careful, almost hesitant, as if afraid of hurting you. “let me know if it stings,” he murmured, his voice quieter than usual.

“it’s fine,” you replied softly, your eyes closing again as the soothing coolness of the gel and his careful touch eased the ache.

zach’s jaw clenched, the muscle ticking as he worked the now-warmed gel into your skin. the rhythmic motion of his fingers was steady, but inside, his composure was unraveling. there was something undeniably intimate about this moment—your quiet, fluttering reactions every time his fingers brushed a new spot, the way your breath hitched when he applied just the right amount of pressure.

his fingers moved instinctively, lifting your shirt a little higher to cover the edges of the bruise, and that’s when he saw it. the small, delicate tattoo just below the curve of your breast.

divine feminine.

the words seemed to stare back at him, burning into his mind as his breath hitched. he swallowed hard, his hand pausing briefly before continuing, slower this time. zach could feel his body reacting in ways he knew it shouldn’t. his chest tightened, and he bit down on his bottom lip, trying to keep himself grounded as warmth pooled low in his stomach.

then you let out a soft, unintentional moan—a mix of pain and relief as his fingers brushed over a particularly tender spot. the sound, quiet and fleeting, sent a chill through him. he froze, inhaling sharply, his hands momentarily still against your side.

your eyes fluttered open, hazy with the remnants of drowsiness. “i’m sorry,” zach murmured, his voice tight.

concern crosses your features as you began to sit up. “zach, it’s fine,” you said, misinterpreting his sudden apology. “it didn’t hurt. i promise.”

but that wasn’t it. not at all.

no, zach wasn’t thinking about the gel, the bruise, or even the fact that he might’ve applied too much pressure. his thoughts had plunged into dangerous territory, spiraling with images he couldn’t suppress.

he was imagining you making that sound again—but for entirely different reasons. how your breathless moans might sound against his ear as you writhed beneath him, your body arching into his as you begged for him to let you cum.

how you might look with your face pressed into the pillows, gripping the sheets, gasping his name in broken cries as he pounded relentlessly inside you from behind, squeezing tightly around him, his hands gripping your hips firmly but gently, guiding you to him.

zach blinked, forcing himself back to the present, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. he dragged a hand through his hair, quickly standing up and mumbling something about needing a drink of water, leaving you puzzled and slightly concerned as he practically fled to the kitchen.

you stood up, muttering a low curse under your breath as the ache in your side flared. despite the pain, you followed him into the kitchen, determined to figure out what was wrong.

“zach,” you called softly, your voice breaking the quiet. he didn’t turn, his back to you, shoulders tense as he stared down at the empty glass in his hands.

stepping closer, you positioned yourself in front of him, standing just beneath his gaze. even then, he refused to look at you, his jaw clenched tightly.

“zach,” you repeated, your fingers gently brushing against his cheek, cupping it to force his eyes to meet yours. the warmth of your touch was almost unbearable for him.

“don’t—” he mumbled, voice low and strained, his gaze flickering to the side as if avoiding yours could somehow mask the turmoil written all over his face.

but you saw it anyway—guilt. raw and unfiltered, pooling in his dark eyes and spilling over in the form of unshed tears.

“zach, what is it?” you asked, your voice soft, barely above a whisper in the still air.

he blinked hard, his breathing uneven as he struggled to hold himself together. the weight of his thoughts pressed heavily on his chest. you trusted him, leaned on him when you were in pain, and here he was, betraying that trust in the worst way—fantasizing about you.

the images haunted him. he couldn’t stop the shameful loop of memories from late nights in his dorm, where he would close his eyes and imagine you in ways he couldn’t admit aloud. he would picture you on top of him, trying to adjust to his size, your brows furrowed and lips parted in quiet gasps. how you might bite your lip to stifle your moans, only to collapse onto his chest when you came undone, breathless and trembling.

but those were just fantasies, fleeting and far removed from reality. they weren’t supposed to bleed into a moment like this—when you were hurt, vulnerable, and looking at him with those wide, concerned eyes.

he squeezed his eyes shut, his voice barely audible. “you were hurt because of me, and i—i can’t stop thinking about…” he trailed off, shaking his head as if trying to physically dispel the thoughts. “it’s not right. i’m not right.”

you frowned, your thumb brushing against his cheek in a soothing gesture. “zach, talk to me. what’s going on?”

he hesitated, his chest rising and falling as he wrestled with himself, unsure if he could say the words that would change everything.

“hey.” your voice was firm yet gentle, cutting through the silence. zach’s eyes opened, hesitantly meeting yours.

“it’s me,” you said, your tone softening. “you can tell me anything, zach. you know that.”

he chewed the inside of his cheek, his jaw tightening as he tried to muster the courage to speak. “i’m so sorry, y/n,” he began, voice heavy with guilt. “i feel awful about what happened today—about you getting hurt. and then you’re here, trusting me to help you, and i’m…” he trailed off, sighing deeply as he covered his eyes with his hand. “i’m trying so hard to control myself, and it’s not okay.”

your brows furrowed as you processed his words, trying to piece together what he meant. the hesitation in his voice, the way he avoided your gaze—it all felt so unlike him.

then, as your eyes flickered downward, you noticed it. the unmistakable bulge in the fabric of his sweats. your breath hitched in realization, a soft gasp escaping your lips before you could stop it.

zach’s hand remained firmly over his eyes, his posture rigid as if bracing himself for your reaction. the room felt impossibly still, the weight of the unspoken hanging heavy in the air.

you reached up, your fingers wrapping gently around his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. zach resisted for a moment, but when he finally let you guide him, his eyes met yours—hesitant, filled with embarrassment.

you offered him a small, reassuring smile, one that melted the tension in his features ever so slightly. without a word, you leaned in, your lips brushing softly against his in a kiss that was both hesitant and deliberate.

his brows furrowed, his body frozen for a split second, caught off guard by your sudden boldness. but then, as if a switch flipped, he responded, his hands instinctively finding your face. his touch was firm yet gentle, cradling you as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

it was tender and charged all at once, a silent confession spilling between you both without the need for words. the kitchen, the guilt, the tension—it all faded into the background, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in the moment you hadn’t realized both been waiting for.

your small hands gripped the sides of his sweater near his waist, anchoring yourself to him as his tongue slipped into your mouth without warning. the sensation sent a shiver down your spine, a soft gasp escaping your lips. every movement—every stroke of his tongue against yours, every firm tug of your hair—set your senses on fire, unraveling emotions you’d worked so hard to bury.

of course you liked zach.

you always had.

the realization hit you like a flood, overwhelming and undeniable. you had tucked those feelings deep into the corners of your heart, afraid of what would happen if zach ever found out. you couldn’t bear the thought of ruining what you had. but the truth was simple: your heart had always been his.

you loved him.

zach pulled back suddenly, breaking the kiss as both of you panted for air. his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and ragged. “wait, wait—” he murmured, his voice low and unsteady.

you whimpered softly, a needy sound you didn’t mean to let out and his cock twitched at it. “zach, please,” you whispered, desperate to feel his lips on yours again, the taste of him still lingering.

he smiled softly, brushing a quick kiss against your lips that left you craving more. “i know, m’sorry, baby,” he murmured.

the nickname made your stomach flutter, sending a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the cozy cabin. you sighed, tilting your head to look up at him, waiting for the words that you knew were coming.

zach’s face was conflicted, his brows drawn together as he avoided your gaze for a moment. “i can’t believe i’m saying this… but we can’t tonight,” he admitted, chewing on his bottom lip in that pained way he did when he was struggling with something.

you groaned softly, the disappointment evident in your expression. your eyes softened as you saw the genuine concern etched into his face.

“i don’t want to hurt you even more,” he continued, his hand brushing lightly against your side. “and it could make your injury worse.”

“zach,” you whined, leaning your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut. “we’ll be careful,” you pleaded, your voice soft and hopeful.

you tilted your head back up, your big, pleading eyes locking with his. you knew exactly the effect they had on him, and for a second, you saw him falter. his jaw tightened as he exhaled a shaky breath, clearly battling with himself.

zach let out a defeated sigh, his resolve crumbling as he crouched down and effortlessly lifted your legs around his waist. the sudden motion made you giggle, clinging to him instinctively. “i win,” you teased breathlessly, a triumphant grin spreading across your lips.

his only response was a sly smirk before pinching your ass, making you squeal in surprise. “careful, or i might change my mind,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he carried you to the bed.

the soft mattress welcomed you as he laid you down gently, the warm glow of the electric fireplace casting flickering shadows across the room. the heat of the moment mirrored the cozy warmth surrounding you both.

zach slid between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he settled there, his aching length pressing against you in a way that made your heart race. neither of you hesitated—your lips collided in a fervent kiss, all hunger and passion, as if this moment had been years in the making. which it was.

your fingers found their way into his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you pulled him closer. his lips moved against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own, each kiss deeper, more intoxicating, than the last. it felt as if the rest of the world melted away, leaving only the two of you in the crackling warmth of the cabin.

“god, you have no idea how much i’ve wanted this,” zach murmurs against your lips, his voice a mix of hunger and longing. your response is a soft moan, quiet but fervent, that makes him press even closer.

he trails a series of slow, teasing kisses down your neck, each nip and suck prompting a sweet, aching arch from your body—until a sudden twinge in your side makes you wince. zach notices immediately, pulling back, concern flooding his eyes. “you okay?”

you nod, forcing a soft smile while trying to mask the lingering pain. you’ve waited too long for this moment and the last thing you want is for him to stop.

he studies you for a second, as if assessing whether you’re truly good, then sits back on his legs. “alright,” he says, voice calm but resolute, “this is how it’s gonna go, then. you can’t move. at all.”

your brows draw together, half-expecting him to crack a grin. but he doesn’t. he’s serious, his gaze unwavering.

“if you move,” he continues, his voice dropping lower, “or try to, i’ll stop.”

you swallow, the weight of his words and the gentle authority in his tone sending a surge of arousal low into your belly. you bite the inside of your cheek, eyes fixed on him, already imagining how you’ll manage to keep still under his touch.

“okay,” you whisper, voice steady but laced with anticipation.

zach’s fingertips skimmed over the outside of your closed thighs, his touch feather-light yet deliberate, as if savoring the moment before taking it further. you watched him through half-lidded eyes, heart thrumming in your chest. with patient care, he began to slide your pajama pants down, revealing your baby blue lace underwear.

his throat worked over a hard swallow as he took you in, jaw clenching and pulse thrumming hot beneath his skin. he could feel himself respond immediately—his cock straining against the softness of his sweats. you saw the way his eyes darkened, how that gentle composure threatened to unravel.

without a word, he eased the lace down as well, leaving you bare before him. instinctively, you kept your thighs pressed together, a final barrier of modesty even as your cheeks warmed. he paused, taking in the sight—the subtle flush on your skin—letting the tension in the air stretch taut.

his gaze flickered up to yours, intense and wordless, the warm glow of the fireplace painting both of you in golden hues that made everything feel dreamy and far removed from the outside world.

“perfect,” he whispered, the single word washing over you, making your skin prickle with a delicious heat. it was as if he saw you in a new light—something delicate and cherished. you felt the flush rise all the way from your chest to your cheeks.

he worked on the buttons of your top with gentle care, careful not to brush too roughly near your bruise. his eyes softened the moment the fabric parted, revealing the tender, discolored skin along your ribs. it was more than just concern written in his features—there was affection, regret, and a silent promise to be gentle.

before you could protest or reassure him, his head dipped down, pressing a series of soft, reverent kisses to the bruise as he eased the top off you, leaving you bare. you shivered under the weight of his tenderness, the careful attention making you feel impossibly close to him.

his fingers drifted lower along your navel, the sensitive skin prickling under his touch. he nuzzled his head beneath your jaw, encouraging you to tilt your head and grant him better access as he breathed slowly, evenly, his warm breath fanning over your throat. just as you began to surrender to the sensation of his lips on your neck, he slipped his hand further down, exploring the softness between your legs.

the first gentle slide of his fingertips through your slick folds made your jaw slacken, a quiet gasp escaping. gathering your wetness, he began to trace slow, deliberate shapes over your clit, drawing you into a heady rhythm that set every nerve alight. your body instinctively wanted to rise to meet his touch, but each time your hips started to rock forward, he’d slow his pace, lifting his gaze to give you a knowing, pointed look—reminding you of your earlier agreement.

the unspoken rule was clear: no moving. you had to let him lead, to trust him completely. caught between sweet frustration and delicious anticipation, you let out a shaky breath and let him guide your pleasure, your heart pounding in your ears.

“shit—you’re soaking,” zach groaned, voice low and strained as he picked up the pace of his fingers. each curl and slide drew out soft, breathy whimpers that spilled from your parted lips. he wore a look of intense concentration, as though memorizing every sound you made.

without warning, his middle finger pressed at your entrance before slowly sinking in, earning a strangled moan that made him nuzzle deeper into your neck. “god,” he breathed, voice muffled against your skin, “you feel so good.” you tightened around him reflexively, and he groaned, the vibration of his voice sending sparks along your spine.

straightening up, he shifted to sit back on his legs, changing the angle and giving himself a better view. he guided your knee down flat against the mattress, not just for his eyes but to ensure you couldn’t easily arch into his touch. a high, keening moan tore from your throat as he curled his finger inside you, hitting that perfect spot that sent tremors through your thighs.

you fought the urge to lift your hips, remembering his warning. still, your body trembled with the need to move, to push deeper into that intoxicating sensation. zach noticed—how could he not?—and it fueled the dark satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. he knew you were on the edge, knew how badly you wanted to give in.

meanwhile, his own restraint was wearing thin. he was hard—achingly so—and the slow, deliberate way you clenched around his finger nearly did him in. but he held back and added a second finger, pulling a sharp moan from you. if you couldn’t keep still now, how could you handle all of him inside you? this was a test of sorts, a delicious torment, and he was savoring every second.

he felt the way you clenched around his fingers, each flutter and squeeze like a plea for release. your hand gripped his wrist, desperate and trembling, but his pace never wavered. “gonna cum for me, angel?” he asked, voice heavy with anticipation.

you nodded frantically, wordless cries tumbling past your lips as he kept hitting that perfect spot inside you. the pressure built swiftly, stealing your breath, until you shattered around him. your vision went white, the world narrowing down to nothing but the pleasure he wrung from your body.

he guided you through it, not stopping until your muscles started to twitch with the first hints of overstimulation. finally, he slowed, easing you down until your body relaxed beneath him, trembling and sated.

with deliberate slowness, he withdrew his fingers, eyes locked on yours. you watched as he brought them to his mouth, his gaze never leaving your face. he sucked on the digits, tasting you the way he’d imagined a thousand times, letting out a deep, appreciative groan. the warmth of his breath on your skin, the soft glow around you both—everything felt charged and intimate, humming with the understanding that nothing would be the same between you again.

zach tugged his sweatshirt off in one smooth, hurried motion, the fabric barely brushing his skin before it landed somewhere on the floor. the urgency in his movements was unmistakable—he was desperate to feel you against him again. every nerve in his body was alight, the ache of wanting you growing more intense by the second.

with a quick push, he lowered his sweatpants and boxers together, freeing himself in one swift motion. the sight of him made your pulse stumble. he was huge—imposingly so—and the thought of taking him in had your breath catching in your throat. you tried to keep your expression neutral, but the widening of your eyes gave you away.

zach noticed. a hint of a smirk ghosted his lips as he settled himself between your thighs, his length resting hot and heavy against your abdomen. leaning down, he caught your mouth in a kiss that was both tender and all-consuming, as if he needed to show you how much he wanted you, how badly he craved this moment with you.

“it’s okay, baby,” he murmured against your lips, voice low and reassuring. “we’ll make it fit.” he pulled back slightly, just enough to watch your face as he guided his tip to your entrance. he gave himself a few slow pumps, as though trying to ease the ache and calm the racing of his own heartbeat.

your breath caught again, excitement and nervous anticipation mingling as he hovered there, every second swelling with tension and promise.

he pressed forward slowly, a careful, deliberate push that drew a ragged gasp from both of you. his forehead hovered just above yours, the soft brush of your lips more an exchange of breath than a kiss, and you tangled your fingers into his hair, gripping gently as he eased himself deeper. small, shallow strokes let you stretch around him, adjusting inch by inch.

your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the dull ache that signaled your body opening to him. he paused when he was fully sheathed, giving you time to accommodate his size. your breath caught as his pelvis brushed against your clit, sparking a low moan from your chest. then he pulled back just enough, pushing forward again to repeat the motion, sending soft ripples of pleasure through you. each gentle thrust replaced pain with gathering warmth, and you felt your body relaxing, welcoming him fully as a quiet whimper escaped your throat.

soon, the discomfort faded entirely, leaving only the sweet, humming pleasure of his movements. once he sensed the tension melt from your muscles, he began a steady, more confident rhythm. a subtle shift in angle, and before long, he had your legs wrapped around his waist, granting him deeper access. the pace picked up, each thrust punctuated by the soft slap of skin and echoed moans that drifted through the room.

you couldn’t hold back a curse at the intensity of it all—his body pressed to yours, filling you so completely, his breathing mixing with yours in frantic, needy staccato. it was raw and intoxicating, the two of you lost in the moment, in each other.

“mm, s’ so deep,” you whimpered, voice catching as you glanced down between your bodies. the sight of him disappearing into you with each thrust made your stomach flutter, your walls gripping him tightly.

zach’s breathing turned ragged, trying to maintain enough control to keep you safe and comfortable. but the temptation was too strong, and he gave a particularly sharp thrust, testing your reaction. you yelped, not in pain but in startled pleasure, and he felt you clench around him in response. encouraged, he repeated it until you were left hiccuping between sobs of bliss, every stroke drawing you closer to that sweet oblivion.

“i know, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with need. leaning down, he braced himself and brought his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. he stroked firm, fast circles, determined to send you over the edge first. your nails raked along his shoulders, your breath hitching with each spiral of sensation. the coil in your belly tightened, ready to snap, as he coaxed you closer and closer toward that shattering release.

“—zach,” you warned, voice thin and strained. his response was a low, desperate moan, fingers and hips working in tandem, never giving you a moment’s respite. every thrust felt deeper than the last, his fingertips circling that swollen, sensitive spot until you were on the verge of unraveling completely.

“c’mon, baby,” he coaxed, voice rough and urgent. “soak me. i wanna feel it.” his pace quickened, hips snapping forward, and you gasped as a wave of pleasure hit you hard and fast. your walls clamped down around him, body arching, a silent scream caught in your throat as you were hurled headfirst into bliss.

zach kept moving, guiding you through the aftershocks, his cock dragging through your pulsing muscles as you trembled beneath him. your moans tumbled into whimpers, every nerve still singing with overstimulation. your fingers curled into his shoulders, breath coming in ragged gasps. “please cum inside me,” you begged, voice shaky and raw, desperate to feel him follow you into that world of sensation.

you felt him stiffen, his rhythm faltering as he pressed closer, every breath hot against your ear. with a low, guttural moan, he finally let go, hips rolling gently as he filled you, warmth spreading with each soft pulse. you could feel it, the tension draining from his body, leaving both of you weightless and sated.

his forehead dipped into the crook of your neck, lips pressing languid, grateful kisses against your skin. he was careful with his weight, mindful of your injury and the tenderness in your body, as both of you lingered in the lingering glow. your breaths intermingled, still coming in soft, uneven gasps as you drifted down from that blissful high.

after a moment, he slowly pulled out, making you both hiss quietly at the sensitivity. he rolled onto his side, immediately reaching for you and covering both of your cooling bodies with the duvet. you shifted to face him, still a little breathless, your eyes meeting as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“hi,” you managed, voice husky and soft, a small, contented smile curving your lips.

a quiet laugh escaped him, his arm moving soothingly up and down your back. “hey,” he replied, voice deep and warm, as if speaking in a secret language only the two of you understood.

“i don’t think i told you this earlier but…” you begin, voice soft and cautious as you search for the right words. “i’m all in, zach.” your heart is pounding in your ears, and you’re pretty sure he can feel it where he’s pressed close to you under the duvet.

zach’s eyes soften, a gentle smile curving his lips. the slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes gives away his relief. you draw a shaky breath, forging ahead. “i feel like you know you’ve always been it for me. or even if you didn’t, i did. you’re my endgame.”

you’re watching him carefully, looking for any flicker of doubt or hesitation, but all you see is the same warmth and affection you’ve been craving for years.

he doesn’t say a word at first, just leans in and kisses you—slow and deliberate, a silent promise pressed softly into your lips. then he moves along your cheek, brushing your skin with tender pecks, and keeps going until you’re giggling, trying to squirm away from his playful assault of affection.

when he finally pulls back, both of you breathless with laughter, he meets your gaze head-on. “i’ve always loved you, y/n,” he says, voice steady and sure. “you’re it for me.”

your heart swells, and you think you’ve never been happier than in this very moment, wrapped up in his arms, secure in the certainty of what comes next.

for the rest of the night, you and zach drifted in and out of conversation—those familiar, meandering chats that never really needed a point—punctuated by soft laughter and sweet nothings murmured into the darkness. in the quiet spaces, you made love again and again, as if making up for all the time lost.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

the next morning, you woke to find the bed empty. you stretched, the slight ache in your side a warm reminder of the day before. slipping into zach’s sweater and a pair of sleep shorts, you followed the glow of holiday lights out of the bedroom. as you reached the upstairs landing, your eyes widened at the transformation: the entire cabin, from the top floor down, was strung with festive garlands, sparkling ornaments, and twinkling lights.

a fond smile curved on your lips as you descended the stairs, drawn toward the kitchen by soft clinks and muffled curses. rounding the corner, you spotted zach at the stove, his back to you, clearly wrestling with some culinary experiment. “morning,” you said, leaning your elbows on the island.

he turned quickly, an anxious frown on his face. “did i wake you?” he asked, only to relax when you shook your head. you slipped behind the island to join him, his arms sliding around your waist as you took in the sight of eggs and batter, a haphazard attempt at breakfast. “wanted to surprise you,” he murmured into your hair. you giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek in thanks.

“good morning, baby,” zach said softly, smiling down at you.

just then, the front door swung open. in came both sets of parents and a handful of siblings, chatter and laughter echoing off the wood-paneled walls. “hello, hello!” your mom’s voice rang out. before you and zach could step apart or even explain yourselves, she rounded the corner into the kitchen. the scene she found: zach nuzzling your neck, you murmuring about how sweet he was being, both of you bathed in the soft glow of holiday lights.

you froze, cheeks flushing, while zach’s arms tightened protectively around you. your families, already grinning from the doorway, seemed more than pleased to discover the truth you’d both been too shy to admit—until now.

“alright, i called it! everyone cough it up!” avery, zach’s little sister, crowed triumphantly. your families groaned in unison, each one reluctantly digging into their pockets to hand over five dollars. avery quickly amassed thirty bucks in her palm, grinning from ear to ear.

you and zach exchanged a look, trying and failing to stifle your laughter before pulling apart and greeting everyone properly. you embraced each of them in turn, still a bit stunned to see them all here a day early. the cabin brimmed with the scent of pine, hot chocolate, and something baking in the oven—warmth and comfort encapsulated in one cozy scene.

for the remainder of your winter break, you and zach reveled in that feeling of family and togetherness. your days filled with laughter echoing off the wooden walls, good-natured bickering with siblings over board games, and playful teasing from your parents that had both of you blushing more than once. above all, there was the gentle thrill of reaching for zach’s hand under the table, catching his eye across the room, and feeling love wrapped around you like a warm blanket against the cold outside.

© aerialmirrorss

[arachine]

yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.

or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.

── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot

── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(

songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way

After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.

Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing. 

When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks. 

You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince: 

“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’” 

There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up. 

“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”

Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.

“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”

Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”

“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad. 

“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?” 

Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there. 

You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily. 

“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”

Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy. 

“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”

“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.” 

The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level. 

A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”

It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes. 

Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him. 

You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after. 

“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.” 

The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping. 

“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”

Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”

“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner. 

Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence. 

“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question. 

“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod. 

“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’

Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement. 

“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her. 

Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul. 

“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.

“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.

“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.

“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”

The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall. 

“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat. 

“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”

Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice. 

Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.

“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed. 

“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”

“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life. 

“You tried any dating apps?” 

It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”

“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?” 

“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?” 

The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Never.”

There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces. 

“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”

“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”

“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”

For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes. 

The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars. 

“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!” 

“Right…” 

The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too. 

Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match. 

“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”

The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace. 

about 8 years ago . . .

“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail. 

“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’. 

“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry. 

“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.

“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch. 

“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”

You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.

“You still there?” 

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response. 

“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”

“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”

Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”

“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.

“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.

By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.

“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”  

Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself. 

You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality. 

“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”

The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office. 

“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.” 

Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone. 

Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type. 

Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more. 

It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit. 

Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders. 

As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it. 

The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties). 

Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.

You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)

Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.

Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile. 

You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.

You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?

The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds. 

Kazuki: Hell yeah they are! 

Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?

You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol). 

You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so? 

You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice. 

You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)

Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say. 

Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…

Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other. 

Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it. 

His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this). 

You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too. 

You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?

Kazuki: It’s more than mutual. 

Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago. 

The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.

You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.

Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)

The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.

You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half. 

In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’. 

You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way. 

Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult. 

“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’” 

When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.

Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call. 

“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet. 

“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.

“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body. 

Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!” 

It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother. 

The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking. 

“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.” 

You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”

“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention. 

“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki. 

“Come in, hon!” 

After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room. 

“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception. 

“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment. 

Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time. 

“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”

“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly. 

Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana. 

“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate. 

“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you. 

“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone. 

“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue. 

“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them. 

“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here. 

“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know. 

“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.

“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–” 

“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him. 

“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it. 

“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something. 

“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”

You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder. 

You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t. 

And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact. 

You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase. 

“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger. 

Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?” 

You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now. 

“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway. 

“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go. 

“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”

Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs. 

“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’. 

You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children. 

“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep. 

“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him. 

“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted. 

Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight. 

When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity. 

Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say. 

He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date. 

Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.

Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further. 

Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now. 

Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot. 

Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first. 

In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened. 

Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out. 

And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch. 

“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”

“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks. 

Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?” 

He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom. 

“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”

With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you. 

“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.” 

By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation. 

“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.” 

Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting. 

“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”

Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow. 

“What?”

“Let me take you to dinner.” 

You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious. 

“Wait, what?” 

“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d. 

“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. 

“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness. 

Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating. 

Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?” 

The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”

He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes. 

“I don’t know…” you trail. 

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow. 

Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway. 

“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you. 

“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.” 

“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?” 

Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.” 

“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter. 

“Those kids, man.”

“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed. 

When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate. 

You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating. 

This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed. 

There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit. 

Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental? 

“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence. 

Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more. 

“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”

“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.” 

The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver. 

Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers. 

Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door. 

The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?” 

“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.

“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.

“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time. 

Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?” 

“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?” 

“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you. 

“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?” 

“Gojo.”

Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal. 

The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly. 

“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”

“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.” 

While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat. 

If I ever leave you, baby

You can say I told you so

And if I ever hurt you

You know, I hurt myself…

Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence. 

You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water. 

“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?” 

Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows. 

When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?” 

Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?” 

You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?” 

Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly. 

Is that any way for a man to carry on

Do you think I want my loved one gone

Said I love you

More than you’ll ever know

More than you’ll ever know

“So funny,” you counter. 

Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?” 

Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass. 

“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased. 

“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment. 

“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?” 

Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy. 

“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed. 

“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–

“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!” 

“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.” 

“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.” 

The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song. 

[...] I don’t even know how to love you

Just the way you want me to

But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns. 

To fall in love 

To fall in love

To fall in love with you…

“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them. 

“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”

Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame. 

“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”

Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage. 

I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)

At a moment like this

But I’m going to learn how to do 

All the things you want me to

Yes, I’m ready

(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready

To fall in love

To fall in love

To fall in love right now

“Yes.”

The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems. 

The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were. 

Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down. 

There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling. 

Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful. 

Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs. 

The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–

“Jump.” 

Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay. 

Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles). 

“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it. 

“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs. 

“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.” 

Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago. 

“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”

“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?

“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.” 

With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees. 

Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound. 

Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core. 

The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love. 

“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.” 

You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you. 

Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation. 

For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?

“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins. 

“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?” 

You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue. 

“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”

“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit. 

“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.” 

Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor. 

He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them. 

But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.

“They suit you,” you whisper. 

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “mhm.” 

Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes. 

Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone. 

God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand. 

As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you. 

Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears. 

The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers. 

Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously. 

“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.” 

Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm. 

Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind. 

“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.” 

The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You. 

Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally. 

Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt. 

“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give. 

“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.” 

Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium. 

“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.” 

Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days. 

Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp. 

Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration. 

By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”

Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.” 

Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you. 

Soon, that silence is broken. 

“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do. 

“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads. 

“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying. 

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”

“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”

“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”

That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you. 

“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages. 

“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants. 

“Shit!” 

Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you. 

“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!” 

Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.

“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom. 

Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.

comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!

© arachine 2023

[toonice113]

This Ken’s job is hockey ⋆ ★ N.Hischier

Pairings: Nico Hischier x reader

Genre: fluff, SMAU at the end

Summary: In which you have a famous podcast with your best friend where you talk about everything and anything including stories about your relationship even though people don’t know the identity of your boyfriend — that is until you decide to hard launch him

Warnings: none

Word count: 554

⋆˚࿔ tina's note 𝜗𝜚˚⋆  Wrote most of this last night at midnight when I couldn’t sleep and didn’t proofread it but here’s a little blurb to celebrate Nico’s second hat trick and the two wins against the wild.

You were in the middle of filming a new episode of your podcast when your best friend brings up the topic of men’s fashion “Like when men were wearing those stupid jeans with ribs on them” Your face contorts in cringe thinking back on it “Or skinny jeans but like really tight skinny jeans”

“You know what I hate? When I see a girl on a date and she’s all dressed up and the guy’s made no effort” You say, your friend agreeing 

“YESSSS!!! I once went out on a first date with this guy and he wore sweats to it which I would get if our plans were just casual but we were going to a fancy-ish restaurant” You laugh at her story “You got lucky with Ken” 

“He lives in athleisure when he’s home, you have no idea” You chuckle thinking “He’s so over suits which sucks cause he looks yummy in them” 

Your friend winces at your last comment “Please never call him yummy again, anyways for those of you who don’t know Ken—”

“My boyfriend” You clarify 

“Yes, his job requires him to wear suits and y/n loves it” 

“I do love it” You nod at the camera 

“You know, you’ve never revealed why you started calling him Ken online” Your friend says “Why don’t you share that story with everyone?”

“Oh well it started because I’ve never shown him in anything before and we’ve always talked about having a more private relationship since well you know I post a lot of my life on the internet” You say, your friend nodding as both of your content outside of the podcast is pretty similar “And there was this day when I was you know doing my usual making my coffee and sharing a story tiktok and the story was about how I’d had a bad day the day before I hadn’tslept enough”

“And you guys don’t want to deal with a sleep deprived y/n, it gets bad” Your friend adds 

You flip her off before continuing your story “Anyways I was tired and cranky and my he had made plans for lunch that day but because I was in a bad mood we ended up leaving lunch early to take a nap because he knew I would be insufferable for the rest of the day if I didn’t get more sleep” 

“Big nap household you guys are” You nod “I wish i could nap but I can’t sleep during the day”

“Honestly? I wasn’t much of a napper before him” You say “But now I love naps” 

“Okay finish your story” Your friend reminds you knowing this nap tangent could keep going for way longer 

“Right, so after I posted that one comment said ‘Barbie has a great day everyday, but Ken only has a great day If Barbie gets enough sleep’ and then I just started calling him Ken when I told my stories” You finish 

“Well I think the nickname Ken does suit him to be honest, I will attest to Ken only having a good day if Barbie smiles at him” Soon after that you two finish the episode.

It’s months after, on your 2 year anniversary, after sharing dozen of stories about ‘Ken’ that you finally hard launched your relationship with an Instagram post.

yourusername

Liked by nicohischier and others

yourusername This Ken's job is Hockey! 2 years of loving you here's to many more 💘

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📌 nicohischier 2 years of having good days thanks to you

yourfriend you two are disgustingly cute happy two years!

user I was convinced she was dating a finance bro

↳ user2 no because me too! especially because of the suit comments

user3 it feels illegal to know this man's identity

user4 wtf do you mean nico hischier is THE ken

user5 thank you for introducing us i will now go back to pretending i don't know who this man is, happy 2 years though!

↳ user6 right? because he will always be ken to me

yourusename don't worry everyone, he'll still be ken in my story times!