#i could tag nightingale but that is just her hand

[melfiiis]

the moment Dr. Frankenstein first felt love for her creation (and with it, incredible guilt)

[dilftaroooo]

Being perverted strikes naturally within Gojo, so when the idea of being a step brother comes to mind during sex he can’t help but act upon the roleplay. You think he’s gross for it, but his questionable passion for it keeps you engaged (oddly enough).

☆word count: 6.3k+

★tags/tw(18+): dark content + stepc*st roleplay + foot f*tish + toe sucking (f!recieving) + dubcon (because reader is unsure at first) + reader is college-aged/gojo is 28 + squirting + age gap + vanilla sex + pubic hairs + scent kink + implied ass eating + hesitancy + reader is afab using she/her pronouns + mentioned latex kink + use of 'satoru-nii' + established relationship + gojo is a lil' mean + and sassy + lots of kissing + nipple play + creampie + getting caught having s*x + exploring kinks + praise kink + pet names + skull fucking + gag reflex + snot + we're talkin' 'big beefy whore with black compression shirt' gojo here + reader is a bit inexperienced + questions of certain kinks.

☆a/n: hey alexa, play 'poundtown by sexyy red' ayyye come suck a bitch's toooes. enjoy y'all, this shit nasty af.

You’re not a kink shamer.

You understand the sexual thrills of getting off to something that turns one on to the point of fulfilled ecstasy–weighted breaths and skin coated with a sheen of sweat from the unorthodox fantasies that provoke the human mind and manipulate the human body, keeping them bound to the shackles of pleasure as their perversion engulfs them whole. It feels beautiful–ethereal, dare you say, and you get that. Who wouldn’t want to feel blissfully satisfied just by mere thought alone? 

Now, exclusive of the deranged fetishes involving children, scat, or whatever fucked up shit out there that's befitting for a lowlife, you would say that you're a pretty open-minded individual. Always tolerating the naughty anecdotes told by your friends’ concerning their past hookups, distinctively remembering the giggles you all shared when reciting one of the stories from a particular friend that had them clad in a latex suit, lips decorated with ruby red, and three-inched heels coming into contact with the cheek of their previous partner as they squirmed in shameless arousal.

‘It was pathetic to see, but I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t get me going…’ And that mutuality between both parties is what makes it even more fun. They both get a kick out of something they enjoyed, so what’s to hate about it?

You’re not a kink shamer–not at all.

You and your boyfriend of a year and four months, Satoru Gojo, always carried the qualities of a couple depicted in unrealistic romance movies: the nuzzle of the nose that tickled your cheek before delving in for a peck, the surprise hugs he’d startle you with as you prepared an early morning breakfast, as well as the intertwined fingers while you both make your way to his favorite bakery (his kisses are even more sugared after scarfing down the kikufuku he’d order no more than a minute ago).

You always felt like the princess to his prince, stumbling over your gown to keep up with his hurried footsteps as you both venture through the gracious evergreen of a mythical forest. You have no time to remove the pastel violet and pink petals slotting themselves in your locks since your hand remains occupied with Satoru’s, moving exquisitely to the melodic song of the nightingales. It was a dream from a childhood storybook.

Moreover, what was revealed in public was, undoubtedly, the same in the comfort of your bedroom, living at your university’s on-campus apartment that you shared with two indifferent roommates. He would frequently stop by after work to spoil you with his affection. Always asking how your day was and whether or not you finished your assignments.

He was a tad bit older than you–twenty-eight and going, but you didn’t mind the age gap, it gives you all the more reason to tease him for his ‘old’ age, to which he responds with a pout and furrowed eyebrows, ‘Oh, how mean! Who would’ve ever thought that my darling angel could be such a devil…?!’ He’d say with faux anguish. He knows you’re only playing around–such the jokester.

Though, he couldn’t say the same for you in bed. Protected by the warmth of your sheets, you relished at how accustomed your body and soul were to his heartfelt transactions, vanilla-flavored sex, so sweet and tasteful on your tongue as he kissed you with want. Tongues twirling a sensual dance as your lips combine in rhythmic harmony. You also loved it when he coos in your ear, reminding you of how you’re so good to him before wrapping his lips around puffy areolas in a way that makes you writhe.

He’s so gentle with you. Handling a fine china cabinet with the utmost care, he makes sure he touches you in ways that wouldn’t break your fragile body. And when your nude skin presses against his as a result of his thrusts to your core, he reminds himself to get you moaning in his ear and get your hands gripping against the muscular curvature of his back.

It feels good. It always feels good. So, why does a part of you feel…bored?

The love is there, you won’t question that. When you come, you feel as though you’re one with the stars. And above all, he praises you. It’s nothing new, but in this context, you like to be his ‘pretty girl’ whenever the tip of his nose pushes against your wet clit. So, why do you feel like something is missing? You don’t know.

You haven’t been in many relationships. The last one you remember was in high school, dating a boy who only loved you out of teenage fever, and you shamefully admit that you reciprocated his confession. You were both young and unknowing of what the aspects of ‘love’ really meant. You never went past the boundary of hand-holding and cheek-kissing, so it remained stagnant until the moment you both broke up.

None of it was mutual, however. You can recall how distraught you were as you bawled in your mother’s arms, asking her what you did wrong while she soothed you with maternal pets to the crown of your head. That being said, it’s safe to say that you really don’t know what’s missing from you and your boyfriend’s intercourse–like, really.

But, thankfully, Satoru makes up for what you lack, telling you not to fret since he knows a lot and letting you know how much he’s been wanting to get to this point of intimacy with you–wanting to whisk his girlfriend away from the comfort zone that you’ve grown so attached to.

Satoru is without exception, enthusiastic to portray more during times of intercourse, yearning to teach you more than just the fluffy, domestic sex you both indulge in. It’s lovely and all, bleh bleh, whatever, Satoru gets it, but, man, what he wouldn’t do to see you on your knees, between his sinewy thighs parted for your form as he hovers above you, your head tilted upwards to take in his thick shaft through wet lips.

He’d make sure his red, throbbing tip hits the back of your throat so he can hear that sickening gag scurry out your mouth paired with the sloppy froth of your saliva slapping against his heavy balls with each quick thrust. He’d be too occupied to find the snot dribbling from your nose revolting because you’d be taking him in so deep.

That’s forever been his little fantasy–that amongst the vast amount of others. And to try each and every one of them with you would be a delight.

After you confessed to Satoru, you couldn’t help but notice how peculiar his ministrations started to get. It was gradual–starting with spanks on your ass to eating said ass. You’ll even bring up the time he used your feet to get off. It caught you off guard, you’d admit.

That day he had you pliable–on your knees with the left apple of your cheek flushed in the pillow beneath you and arms resting idly on your sides as you allowed your enthralled boyfriend to take the lead.

You assumed he was just gonna spit on your already-soaked pussy before massaging your puffy clit in the teasing, clockwise motions he likes to test you with, cock oozing with leakage before languidly gliding upwards to push in-between your cunt lips, but what you didn’t assume he’d do was trace his slimy precum against the soft skin of your toes to then rub his tip across your soles.

You tried to retract your feet away from him (toes wiggling in the process which had them accidentally graze across his balls. You could’ve sworn you heard him hiss) and protest his weird behavior but Satoru was already three steps ahead, firmly gripping both feet and nearly squishing them together if it wasn’t for the thick base of his cock preventing them from touching.

Each thrust he made ached with raw fervor and fuck him from being incapable of suppressing his passion because he couldn’t help but look down and see your cute pussy pucker and asshole twitch. What a sight for sore, cerulean eyes. Just as sore as your ass after he slapped it with an ever-so-firm hand, silently thanking his calluses for the rough impact.

He found it adorable how your shimmering entrance craved for insertion, winking rhythmically at him as though it’s saying, ‘Please fill me up, ‘toru! ‘M so lonely without you…’ (he chuckles to himself at the personification when done in a high-pitched tone).

But your pussy always gets his attention. You have another hole too, ya’ know–one that sits right above it, unused and virginal. Just imagine his excitement as he leans forward, cock still buried at the innermost part of your feet, to take a closer look. He’d smile at your coyness when you felt his hot breath blow on your skin, unsure of his next move.

In this new position, he can trace the faint smell of sweat emerging from you, and God, does that turn him on. More than it already does. So of course he had to steal a taste, trailing a fat strip of saliva against the rim, you squeal at the warm and wet feel of his tongue touching a place it had never been before,

“S-Satoru…what the fuck!” You jolted before moving from your position, migrating to any spot as long as it's far from your lover. You’ll never forget the sleazy look on Satoru’s face as both corners of his rosy lips tilt upwards for a cocky grin–yuck.

It grossed you the fuck out.

Not in a way that antagonizes your boyfriend, you love him too dearly to feel as such, but in a way that questions his morals. Why on earth would someone like Satoru want to be minimized to using the bottom of your soles for pleasure or savor the briny taste of sweat that builds up around the tight ring of your ass? I-I mean, you excrete from there, for God’s sake! That’s gross, especially in a place where the sun doesn’t shine.

You understand that he likes doing it, but why? How could something so perverse and dirty get him hard so quickly? Where’s his shame? His humiliation? His guilt? Were they not present whenever he sneaks a lick at your toes?

Perhaps you are trying to understand–who wouldn’t want to indulge in their lover’s feet, to caress the tough surface of their heels, and lead up their toes, to draw soft lines against them with plush lips as their medium before dipping them inside the wet cavern of their mouth and sucking the small digits before swirling their tongue and–ugh!–no! No, no, no, that’s sick! How can one do such a thing with ease? You can’t possibly imagine that.

But you’re not a kink shamer…right?

Your question remains unanswered, though, as you’re interrupted by Satoru’s moistened kisses trailing down the curve of your neck. You must’ve been in your daze for quite some time considering that the camisole top and loose shorts you lounge in took their positions on your bedroom floor. 

“Come back to me, baby.” You hear your boyfriend murmur and you deliberately oblige by running your digits through the white sea of his mane, wild and free as your fingers feather against his roots. He hums with love before leaving a kiss that's sloppier than the previous one. It starts with your usual routine, with soft and tenderhearted sex.

He pecks at your clavicle and you whimper in return as silvery lashes tickle the most sensitive areas of your skin. The passionate atmosphere continues to flow within the four walls of your room–containing your moans and your kisses and your touches, reverberating them in your heated figures while filling you both with distinct pleasure. It was good so far.

“Have any ideas in mind for tonight, sweetheart?” His voice is muffled as he joyfully sucks at the skin between the valley of your breasts, teeth clasping over the hot flesh to induce a mark darker than what your skin tone provides. You hold onto the fabric of his black shirt, soundlessly wondering why he is still garbed in unbreathable polyester while you remain bare save from your panties.

Lolling your head to the side in thought, you dwell on his question. Should you have something in mind? This isn’t the same as getting asked where to eat for dinner, per se. And owning to your inexperience with sex and fetishes, you’re incapable of bringing anything to the table in this sense.

You open your jaw, mouth filled with saliva due to the raunchy actions performed by your boyfriend onto your supple body, ready to speak your retort as you lick your chapped lips in preparation, but, Satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

“Yeah, I know you don’t,” It’s like he was born to study you. Your eyes travel to his person again, orbs resting upon Satoru’s scalp as you wait for him to finish. “Nothing in that gorgeous head of yours. It’s okay, though. I don’t blame you. I know an amateur like you wouldn’t have anything planned.” 

As might be expected, your brow raises at his comments slightly glazed with a patronizing drip, it’s gotten your attention, all right, as you turn your head to glare down at him. He’s sucking on your nipples this time and you forge a jerk but don’t falter, perked up by this newfound attitude from your loving partner.

“Oh?” You start and it carries the same uppity weight as his tone. “And I suppose you have it all figured out?”

He nods right after gazing up at you with arctic globes saturated with a heavy rush of sincerity and you can already feel the dreamy sigh materializing in your throat but never emerging. Satoru immediately sniffed out the indignance behind your words like a trained bloodhound. He rises from his spot upon your heaving chest to travel his way to the swoll of your chin, apologizing with a quaint kiss. 

“I do,” His smile is affectionate. “You know I always do, sunshine.” You gasp once something hard nudges against your squishy thighs before poking the outermost part of your panties.

“-Always think of something for that little cunt.” It isn’t long before it's cast to the side for clear access to your glimmering slit, doused in slick because your boyfriend had a remarkable way of handling you. He didn’t miss the embarrassed mewl of his name when he used filthy words.

He also didn’t miss the pull of air you took in as his thick finger swept up your bodily remnants, coating the fingertips of his middle and ring finger. You voluntarily buck your feeble hips in desire for him to push through your entrance but you know he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. “You know, it gets me going when we do stuff like this when others aren’t around–when we do something so forbidden.” 

What–?

“Forbidden…?” Each syllable muddles your tongue as you ponder on its meaning: something that typically isn’t allowed or accepted–you’re not unaware, it’s a simple word, but is that the word he meant to say? “Why would it be forbidden? You’re my boyfriend, are you not?” Unless there’s something you’re unknowing of.

Perhaps he has a wife that he kept hidden in the shadows of his past. What if one wife turned into several wives? Maybe he’s a bloodthirsty murderer, ready to indulge in his next killing after getting you to trust his charming blue eyes and pink-liped smile. You don’t exactly know what the forbidden aspect of it all that he’s keeping from telling you-

You hear him ‘tsk’ and you assume it was meant to be taken seriously but it seems covered in mockery.

“Hah, Boyfriend? Have you no shame?” And he chuckles deep and grimy. “Don’t act like don’t know, dear.” You honestly don’t. “What would our parents think if they saw you, my sweet, little sister, grinding her greedy pussy against her older brother’s fingers?”

Oh.

Oh God.

Gritting your teeth for an evident cringe, you hurriedly toss your head to the side to break eye contact (how did he even manage to hold it for that long despite what he just said?!). There’s no way he’s doing this. Out of all kinks…

“For the love- Satoru. Stop, that’s fucking-” A sharp whine halts your sentence, stressed to the point of exaggeration. You don’t bother looking back up at him, already imagining his brows creasing with complaint at your disgusted remark.

“Ehh, what happened to ‘Satoru-nii’?” You almost would’ve forgotten the fingers sketching light circles on your sensitive button, going in for a pinch before tapping it aimlessly due to its slippery surface.

You clench your thighs together but Satoru’s heaping form prevents you from doing so. He’s a big mass of muscle reminiscent of a bull–broad shoulders along with thickened veins peeking through tough skin in the forms of streams, carrying the pulsing blood flow of adrenaline and transporting through each significant section of the body to energize his raging carnality.

“Are my fingers dwindling your vocabulary already? I just started using this pussy, sugar plum.”

A part of you wanted to believe he was joking–trolling like he usually does on literally every occasion. He knows how acquiescent you were in situations like these. So easily obedient to follow his golden rule when clinging to his hip, taking full advantage of your attributes to get you to do the perverted shit that spoiled his brain to corruption.

Of course, there’d be times when you’d retaliate, shouting out a brief ‘no’ before leaving the conversation unfinished, but it’s okay because he can butter you up to your good side. Use his words and his hands to do the convincing. Satoru has attributes of his own too.

But gazing into his eyes and seeing how aquatic blue dissolves into crimson red, only driven by lust, tells you he’s serious.

You look off to the side once more because staring at your nightstand is more soothing than staring at your deviant boyfriend. Out of all kinks, why this one?

“I don’t,” You close your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself free from his piercing glare. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You weren’t about to do this. You weren’t about to play into his wicked fantasies of being a relative of any sort. That doesn’t sound appealing at all.

“Don’t be like that, babe.” He mutters softly as if other people were in the room, prying with open ears to catch whatever dialogue is being transmitted between the two of you. A fingertip taunts at your sloppy entrance, just barely shoving past its tight grip. Sexual anticipation surged through your core at his ministration (his giggles at your hopelessness didn’t help you any). “You won’t know unless you try. Come on, do it for me?”

He’s too cute to refuse when your peripherals pick up his bottom lip raising upwards for a pout and feather-like lashes fluttering over glossy, blue orbs. Practically, begging you to follow through with this look alone–if only he wasn’t so handsome and used his charm against you in every way possible. God damn it-

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“Then you’re my antidote.”

You exhale in defeat since you unfortunately realize there’s no way out of this. Satoru’s too adamant to get you to play along with him, it’s insane. Turning your head to fully face him, which feels like the one-millionth time you’ve done so, you look him in the eye before aiming at the button of his nose, upturned and perky. Mentally getting ready to produce the God-forsaken words you are about to utter.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You start and the way Satoru’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas irks you. 

You still feel mortification swirl in your skull like second nature. Your cheeks feel hot and it hurts–were you really about to do this?

Satoru was still teasing you to no end. Teasing that doubtlessly wet pussy with expertise. He was killing you by not giving you what you craved, only remaining on the surface as he waited for your verdict. Just one more push, one more shove and you’ll get there.

“And why is that?” He inquires.

Your bottom lip quivers with hesitation before an erotic groan escapes you. He’s so close to putting them inside. “Because you’re-” You pause to wait for a sliver of courage to finish your sentence. You’re not sure if you can-

“...I’m?” He continues.

You both catch on to the shaky breaths you’re letting out, two separate bodies feeling two separate emotions, one agitated and the other electrified.

“You’re my,” You tense but Satoru loosens. “-my b-brother.” He’s the Cheshire cat as of now. You wail once two fingers invade your thirsty hole, entering with a mushy squelch.

“And what is it that we’re doing, huh? What is it that we’re doing that would be so revolting to the public eye, hm? Tell me.” Can he stop pushing you already, for crying out loud?

“You fingering my, my,”

“You got it, keep going.”

“...fingering my p-pussy.”

Satoru cherishes your hesitance and rewards you, his obedient puppy. 

Digits curl upwards in search of that sensitive g-spot resting amongst your gushy insides. If applied enough pleasure, he’d be able to see how your back arches off your cotton sheets. Your mouth opens for a silent scream as the force of his fingers supports the buildup of liquid passion, pounding the area in addition to his palm rubbing your stiff clit the deeper he goes.

“There you go, my sweet girl, my gorgeous, little sister.” He fingers you harder and sucks at your erect nipples–when did they get so hard? As a matter of fact, when did your body feel so hot and needy? As though you’re deprived of something. 

Your boyfriend sucks at your tit before biting the small nub, grazing his teeth along sensitive skin for a chomp, causing your hands to fly to his head and grip the fur of his undercut, all while wincing in pain. He retracts his head with your nipple still in his mouth, giving it a stern tug like an elastic rubber band. You would have cursed him out if it wasn’t for the fingers still beating at your nether regions.

“Ah, S-Satoru!” He bites harder and you remember his request from earlier. “Satoru-nii.”

As if you hear a winner's buzzer, he hums in approval and releases before gorging his lips around the other one, gently guzzling it this time, skillfully whirling his wet appendage around the nub in combination with hungry sucks. He unloosens with an obnoxious, wet pop!

“M’so glad your mom married my dad. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be able to take care of my little sister’s pussy like how I’m doing now. Wouldn’t that be so sad?!” He inquires gleefully. “I’d be so miserable–jerking myself off to meaningless porn when I could be stuffing my big dick deep inside your aching cunt. Hearing you moan out how much you love your older brother for making you squirt your sticky juices all over me. You even got your hairs trimmed in the way you know I love.”

The sound of fabric grinding against fabric fills your ears as he maneuvers his head to reach down to your pelvis, stuffing his nose on top of the shortened pubes, his mouth hangs dangerously over your clitoris.

He takes in a deep breath like he’s smelling the fresh air of healthy trees and freshly cut grass, basking in your heady scent while feeling his cock go rigid in the plush of your mattress. 

Too aroused to feel embarrassed, you buck your hips so you can finally get his mouth on your itching button and he finally compels, switching between sucking in your clitoral hood and tonguing your labia. Satoru moves his fingers faster in hopes of provoking your climax. He knows your proximity by noting the way your thighs tremble and toes spread across your sheets.

You finally get to the stage you’ve been craving since the beginning of this session. Releasing your fluids onto your awaiting boyfriend, the grip at the nape of his neck more powerful than before, you squeal a brief ‘Satoru-nii!’ as he proceeds to lap at your overstimulated pussy. He’s now sparkling with your juices. Satoru sits up on his knees after wrapping his buff arm around the width of your shoulders to hoist you up and get you closer to his thighs, your figure remains seated as you process what he wants you to do–he wants you to suck him off.

So you lean your sweat-stained face over his clothed member and unwrap it like a Christmas present you’d save for last because it's so big. His cock springs up rudely and smacks at his now naked abdomen (when did he take off his shirt?) with a loud clap. His abs are so detailed and his pecks puff out in pride while he looks down on you, like his little servant.

He controls the length of his cock with a stern hand and traces ivory white lipstick over the plump of your mouth, a hazy web of precum connecting to your upper lip.

“Wrap those beautiful lips over my cock, darling angel. You know it makes me happy to see you stuffed full with my dick, no matter the hole.” He cheeses when he hears a quick scoff come out of you.

You listen anyhow, swallowing the tip of your big brother’s rod, hallowing your cheeks like a skeleton to circling your tongue around its rosy circumference. You feel your remaining cum dribble onto your bed when you hear him make a guttural moan from above. Clenching his ass cheeks as fingers place themselves on top of your head like an armrest, laying idly as of now.

“Oh shit, baby, yeah, just like that. Keep sucking me off juuust like that.” He bucks his hips impatiently once you decide to devour him up to the mid-base, continuing the actions of sucking in your cheeks to tighten around his cock. “Fuck!” He mewls before chuckling humorlessly.

He stares down and you look up. Your eyelids roll back til they’re just below your brow ridge to catch sight of azure undertones. You were just about to wonder why he was tittering until pressure made its way to both sides of your head. When his pearly white smirk twinkled under dim lighting, that's when you knew-

“Hmphh,” The noise was pitiful when subdued by the heavy weight of Satoru’s cock.

“Hold still, pretty girl.” He coos before pushing his hips back and applying the same manner to your head as he controlled you effortlessly and then thrusting forward and forcing your head to do the same. His balls slap on impact with your chin when he buries himself deep into the hot cavern of your throat, you have your nostrils planted on the silvery wisps of his pubes, reeking of potent masculinity. He leaves you in that position, powerless as he ignores the smacks to his meaty thighs.

“Hold it,” He warns. His voice is pitched below the Earth’s surface. “Gotta teach you how to please big bro properly.” You fight hard as his tip keeps irritating the thing that hangs at the back of your throat, trying to oppose your body from naturally activating your gag reflex but it ends up being fruitless. Your throat convulses as it bulges with his cock print and you cough out an ugly sound. Your vision blurs once you feel your eyes start to water up. You want him to move back already!

“Good.” It’s like he heard your thoughts because he finally retracts from his perfect spot lodged in your gullet. His swollen tip tickles the surface of your lips as you gasp several breaths of air. Just what was he thinking? You could’ve puked!

“What the hell was- mmph!” Halted by another intrusion of his cock burying itself in the pits of your throat, you muffle out a sound of surprise. You couldn’t believe it.

Satoru starts, “Less talking from you, sunshine. I wanna hear you slobber on my dick. Think you can do that for me?” He quickens up the pace of his thrust, going at the speed of someone walking. You gag disgustingly at each thrust and you can feel snot starting to leisurely slip from your nose (just what he wanted to see).

“That’s a messy girl, my messy sister. Got you, hah, so worked up you even got snot dripping from your nose and your spit running down my balls. Oh, you don’t know how much I longed for this.” He resumes his praises and tips back his head for a howl, feeling himself approaching his end as he hears you glurg, glurg, glurg on his veiny member.

“Oh shit, shiiit…!” Suddenly, you’re abruptly pushed off of him, freeing your esophagus from the restraint. Your back lands on the bed with a thud, your landing protected by your doughy comforter. Satoru stands motionless as he recovers from edging himself to oblivion. Biting his lip, his cock twitches up and down before it gradually remains unmoving.

You don’t even remember it happening, but you’re already restricted underneath Satoru’s panting body, thighs folded backward for a mating press, squeezing your squishy tits together, and feet perched on top of his shoulders. He takes his infamous spot between your legs, his overworked hands, decorated in calluses and scars, cuff around the underside of your knees.

He gifts you a heated kiss on your lips. “‘Toru-nii-” You say while struggling to keep up with his tongue. He breaks away from you and the string of saliva snaps into two.

“I hear you, baby, want me inside you already, I know, hear you loud ‘n’ clear.” His tip finds your entrance and it's sopping wet tenfold. He’s never seen you so needy in his life. He pushes in slowly and smoothly. Relishing your moans as he delves within you inch by inch, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. You squirm in lascivious desire each time he enters you.

“I know, sugar, I know…” He soothes you upon hearing your sobs go up an octave. His head rests at the empty spot next to your neck and his hair tickles the crevice. “Almost there.”

As soon as he sinks deep in your warm cunt, he pecks your cheek with a softness that resembles duck feathers in a pillow before plummeting into you. A pornographic squelch resounds through your room.

“Hnn, T-Toru-nii is, so deep, ah, in my pussy!” You yelp. He’s so glad you’re still following his gross footsteps. So dazed by his cock hitting every ridge nestled within you.

“Yes, that’s right, little sis. And you’re gonna be a good girl and take it for me, right?”

You give a nod, “Yes, I will. I always will. Just f-for you.”

“Mmm, that’s right. That’s what I like to hear.” 

He inclines his torso backward, finding his attention on the feet placed at each side of his shoulders, more specifically, the one to his left as he grabs your ankle with ease, stroking the bone and putting your pedicured toe between wanting lips, your french tips hitting the roof of his mouth while lapping at your salty skin.

His pelvis hammers into you at a steady rate in combination with the gushes emerging from both sexes, it's so damn loud, you’re quite sure your Resident Assistant will come banging at your door frantically, telling you to lower it down because of the noise complaints that lead to your room.

You giggle, not just at the thought but at how much it tickles to feel Satoru’s tongue swirl around each toe.

“Satoru, that tickles.” You quip and the aforementioned man stares at you with knowing lids, purposely tasting your soles which have you trying to take your foot away, but the position you’re in makes it impossible.  

You feel as though hours go by as your older brother pushes on with fucking you silly and having a makeout session with your foot. His v-line collides with your poor pussy on every steady beat and you can’t help but let your earlier accusations fall from your mind like slippery soap.

The revulsion, the distaste, the discomfort–all of which were confined in a silk-woven case, trapped and compacted hitherto its evolution of approval. Although tentativeness plagues its cycle, the result remains beauteous as a cherry red butterfly protrudes through the rotten surface of the cocoon. The successful escapee finally swarms the sky with a setting sun.

It feels good. You feel good. Your pussy feels good as your step brother pounds it with intent–with purpose. You wiggle like a fearful worm ready to be eaten once the need to release creeps up slowly.

“My little sister always manages to feel so good. This pussy is just gripping me so fucking tightly and-” He stops abruptly and so do your moans as you hear your front door creak open.

The sound of jiggling keys and the chaotic trembling of plastic bags alert both your ears as you hear the door slam shut accompanied by a relieved sigh. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand–‘10:35 PM’. One of your roommates is back from work. Coming home to rest easy from their enervating shift, she wants nothing more than to take a scalding hot shower, laze in her bed, and listen to nothing but silence as she drifts off to sleep.

But before those temptations come into play, she first wants to check up on you to see if you’re still in your room. Walking up sluggishly to your door, she raises a hand to prepare a few knocks while you and Satoru both stare wide-eyed at the shadow that occupies the crevice beneath your bedroom door–still like Michelangelo's statues.

“Hey, (Name), you in there?” The pause is long as you look up to Satoru and see his gaping mouth transform into a smirk before turning your attention to the door.

“Uh, yeah, I’m here. What’s up?” You ask, slightly hoping that your answer will satisfy her queries on your safety before retreating to her room.

“After work, I took a quick trip to the store for some wings and frozen pizza if you’d like some. Even got honey-barbeque-” You smile at her gentle antics. She remembered your favorite flavor.

“Oh, thanks, I really appreciate th-oh!” You’re stopped once Satoru resumes pounding your sloppy pussy. You cover your mouth in an attempt to conceal your yap but a strong hand grabs both wrists to cuff them above your head.

“Keep talkin', sis. Can’t leave mom pondering, now can we?” He whispered with precaution. That devious little-

“H-Hey? Are you okay?” The squishy slaps of both Satoru’s precum and your wet fluids compose a cacophonic symphony. Shit, if he keeps going, you’ll- 

“Yeah, m-mhm. I-I’m, fuuuck, fine.” Satoru grins maniacally above you his hot breath pasts your cheek and into your ear. The tip of his cock abuses your cervix as he compacts you tightly under giant muscle, arms littered with bulging purple and blue veins as he keeps you steady. His pubes tickle your clit whenever his hips kissed yours. Both breaths were getting heavy.

“Are you sure, you sound…sick.” Her words were laced with worry as she stood there, unmoving. “Do you need for me to come in?”

Satoru finds her naivety hilarious but decides it's time to break the barrier. He does so by raising his hips to an exaggerated extent before hammering back into you, the sound much louder than before as clapping fills the atmosphere. He guarantees your roommate will pick it up. Which she does.

“Wait, are you-” She gasps when she hears your sobbing moans echo in her ears. “Oh my God.” You’re too fucked stupid to give a reply when she blurts out an embarrassed ‘sorry!’ before taking hurried footsteps away from your door.

“Guess we scared her off, huh?” Knowing damn well he was the one who only made the effort to let your roommate know you were being pounded to oblivion. “Think she’s gonna tell everyone about this? Tell everyone how her son and daughter ruin the family name because we were caught fucking each other in your room?” He’s quick to pick up in your roleplay.

“Hnngh, I don’t know, ‘Toru.”

“I’m quite sure she will. What do you say, sweet girl, how about we both give a real reason to soil the family name and let me come in this pussy?” His thrusts start to stutter with each filthy word–cream drips from your cunt and down to the tight rim of your ass. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you groan quietly.

“Answer me now, sweetheart, or Satoru-nii is gonna-”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck. Please come inside me, please, ‘don’t care about anyone in this family but you! Come inside me, Satoru-nii!”

With that being said, he fulfills your wish by giving you one, big thrust and stilling his cock deep in his little sister’s pussy to pump his hot seed in increments. Whimpering loudly as he does so. His face contorts in the cutest grimace that you wish you could smooch. You heavily breathe in unison until he pulls out of you (fingering his remaining cum back into your fluttering hole).

He kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and lastly your lips before saying, “You did so well for me.”

And it’s after this session that have you thinking–‘perhaps you do get it’.

[pillow-anime-talk]

congrats on 4k, my fav writer! can i ask for buddha with fem!reader and number 14? it could be friends/lovers or something similar :) love you

# tags: scenario; strangers/?; a bit of comedy; fluff; size difference; human!reader; precious!reader; playful!buddha; ragnarok time; sfw

includes: female reader ft. buddha {ror}

author’s note: thank you so much, anonnie! love your idea so i hope you like it!

14. “Need some help, shortie?” 

Buddha loved to sit in nature surrounded by animals and plants, so exploring the gardens built in the arena was his favorite thing from the beginning of the first fight. He always sat under the trees with his favorite sweets, and sometimes he just took short naps; very often between conversations with other gods or the eldest Valkyrie and her younger sister.

Currently there was a battle between the most powerful sumo of the human world – Raiden Tameemon – and the god worshiped in India – Shiva. The Buddha was next, and his plan was slowly approaching its culmination. Before the fight, however, he wanted to rest and gather his thoughts, while enjoying a sweet snack in the form of a colorful lollipop, which he managed to smuggle.

Unfortunately (or not?), his favorite tree was taken. A young woman with a beautiful skin tone and a friendly-looking face was plucking juicy fruits in a shade of delicate purple mixed with pink from the huge plant. I would like to mention that she was not greedy and chose only very ripe fruit, ideal for harvesting. She had only three in her small basket and was trying to pick the last fruit, which unfortunately was much higher than she could reach. Her light dress looked really good on her body, while the jewelry decorating her neck and fingers perfectly emphasized the sparkle of her eyes and charming smile.

“Need some help, shortie?” The man stepped a little closer and glanced carefully at the petite woman.

When you turned around, he could have sworn you looked like a true goddess. You were just as beautiful – no – you were more beautiful than Aphrodite and definitely sweeter than the fruit in your hands. Your eyes expressed pure curiosity of the world, and your lips were twisted in a sincere, even childish smile. The necklace jumped slightly as you turned to your interlocutor, then greeted him with a slight bow.

“Only if you want... I’ll gladly accept your help.” You spoked timidly, causing the fair-haired sage only to nod. He quickly reached the beautiful plum from the branch and handed it to you. He was curious about you and really wondered who you were. After all, he had never met such a beautiful goddess before. Which religion were you from? “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you.”

“Buddha.” He said softly, looking at you even more closely. Your voice as beautiful as the singing of nightingales in the morning, and the blush on your cheeks resembled juicy strawberries. “What pantheon are you from?” He asked curiously, and you only frowned, putting the fruit gently into a dark-colored wicker basket. Then you shook your head.

“Oh. I fight for humanity.” You replied with amusement, causing him mixed feelings. He was surprised; he did not expect that humanity has such beautiful women, and also so modest and delicate in her manner. “You may not know me because I died quite recently.” You added and the man nodded one more time. He wanted to know your story, your abilities, your problems. After all, everyone has one. “I’m seventh in line.”

Since Buddha was in the sixth round and you in the seventh, the deity hoped that you two would have a chance to meet again and talk for much longer; about life and death, about Ragnarok and about these sweet fruits... Like... Why did they catch your eye?

[comics-and-fanworks]

ML Career Choice Part 2!

@marsrize 

Is this how you tag people I have no idea what I’m doing.

~~~~~~~~

Turns out when you yell at someone in a café demanding they fix a mess they didn’t cause people are likely to record it. Especially if you happen to be a model who just fell from grace and are yelling at a soon-to-be Mrs. Todd-Wayne. Gotham was a mix of emotions, mostly elated that their power couple would be getting married, surprise that the woman who’s helped redesign and rebuild major cities is a major force of fashion, and fury at just what she had to go through. Adrien made the mistake of messing with someone who Gothamites considered one of their own, and Gotham was determined to make sure Marinette would get a chance to tell her side of the story. Vicky Vale had her booked on her talk show that very night, under the guise of discussing a way for the city to reduce its smog levels. 

Marinette and Jason were sitting next to each other smiling as Marinette proudly discussed ways to make Gotham’s air cleaner, Vicky began her real interview. “Marinette, I hate to spring this on you so suddenly, but I’m sure you’ve seen the video of ex-model Adrien Agreste harassing you and your fiancé- congratulations by the way- He mentioned something about fashion?” Marinette sighed, and Jason squeezed her hand in comfort, “When I was younger, it was my dream to be a fashion designer. I had, and still have a few big name clients like Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and the Wayne family now that I’m marrying into it. I had even caught the attention of some big names like Gabriel Agreste and the Style Queen, I thought everything was going so well, until Lila Rossi came along.” Jason leaned over and pulled Marinette into a side hug, gently rubbing her shoulder. Mari took a deep breath and continued, “She began lying about anything and everything, and I didn’t believe her, she somehow got into Gabriel’s good graces and began spreading all these lies about me. Saying I stole my designs, I had other people do the work for me, all kinds of things that didn’t really make sense. It was one of the many things she did to me. I don’t know how she convinced him, but she got Adrien to back her up. The worst part is, he knew all along that she was lying, but helped her ruin my reputation and get me blacklisted from something I loved!” 

At this point, Marinette was in tears, so Vicky cut to a commercial break while Jason tried to comfort his fiancee. Eventually they both agreed it would be best if Jason handled the rest of the interview. When the live feed returned, Vicky decided to lighten the mood by asking about his engagement, “So Jason, is there anything you can tell me about your upcoming wedding?”

“Well Vicky, can I start off with saying how excited I am? I met Marinette when she had just moved to Gotham. It sounds crazy, but we were actually in a hostage situation and I got to watch Little Ms. Magic macgyver her way out of it, and that was the moment I knew she was the one. I won’t say much about our wedding, the ceremony’s going to be a private affair, but the reception is going to be quite the party. Everyone who’s Anyone will be there, Mari did make a lot of connections through her work as an engineer. Name a country and I promise she knows someone there.”

Needless to say Marinette’s former tormenters were shocked when they did not recieve an invitation, mostly because Adrien had assured Lila and his father that Marinette would definitely invite them. Even though Lila still despised Marinette, but she admitted that her rival was well connected and with her reentry into the fashion world, her empire was only growing. If Lila could make a show of apologizing to Marinette, she could potentially save her career, and hopefully eventually worm her way into the multi-talented woman’s good graces. Gabriel wanted to attend in order to try and save his company’s reputation and smooth things over. It looked bad enough when he blacklisted a child, but now that it was exposed that he did so on lies and didn’t even attempt to confirm them it looked even worse. He hoped that by the end of the evening he could make a few new famous clients (who were fighting tooth and nail for the very limited commission spots Marinette opened) and announcing a partnership between himself and Marinette.

Adrien wanted to go because he was convinced he could convince Marinette to leave Gotham to return to France and restore the status quo. None of his old friends were speaking to him, after finding out that he knew Lila was lying and helped ruin Marinette’s future. Many of them reached out to her to apologize, and in the months leading up to the wedding were able to repair their bonds with her. Adrien was confused, why should they apologize when in his mind Marinette was in the wrong for attempting to expose Lila as a liar? It didn’t help that Ladybug was giving him the cold shoulder as well, he thought she would see it how he wanted her to, but apparently not. To add insult to injury, she got an invitation while Chat Noir did not. 

The three of them decided to crash the reception, mostly because they were confident that they wouldn’t get kicked out. They still remembered Marinette as a people-pleasing pushover, so they figured that even if they did get caught they’d be fine. What they didn’t know, is that the Wayne family runs a secret side business, in which they teach future family members confidence, raise their self-esteem, and other healthy life skills, and Marinette had happily taken those classes. When they arrive, Adrien darts off to find Marinette, Lila and Gabriel try to do damage control. It’s not long before they’re being thrown out by security and a VERY pissed preteen with a katana. The Wayne lawyers were truly in a different level of their own, because by the time the terrible trio got back to their hotel, they were served with restraining orders.

Life was going well for Marinette, it was great actually. She was head of Wayne Engineering and working on starting up Wayne Fashions. Marinette was even asked to join a board of engineers, architects, and designers on ways to further protect people and buildings from magical and nonmagical threats, when her phone began to ring.

“Mari! An earthquake just hit Gotham! The government is withdrawing all aid! They’re not going to rebuild the City. Little Ms. Magic I don’t know what-”

“I’m coming! Tell your dad he better be ready to reach deep into his pockets. They may have abandoned Gotham, but we haven’t, and we never will.”

[xysidhequeen]

Just for formality sake, is it alright to draw fanart based on your AU?

Ancients YES!!! I love fanart so much. I legitimately cry when I get any, and then immediately run off to show my entire family and all of my friends.

For anyone else who was wondering: this is me giving enthusiastic consent for you to draw fanart based on my AU.

The only thing I ask is that you tag me in it so I can see it and share it and gush over it! 💚💚

A snippet for you! This could count as spoilery but I've been mentioning almost from the beginning that the boys were gonna yoink Timmers from Batman and be his new gay dads so it's not a surprise we're finally getting to them at least being in the same city.

~~~~~~☆☆☆☆~~~~~

Ancients, even Jazz had stopped trying to talk them out of it. It helped that Tucker had made a compilation video of every time Robin got hurt while doing hero work and showed it to Jazz.

It was concerningly long.

Now Jazz had resigned herself to another little brother. Well. She claimed she was resigned but Jason had video evidence that she'd nearly stormed out of the Mausoleum with the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick in hand to beat Batman and steal his Robin from him after watching the compilation. 

Jason, obviously, hadn't been the one to stop her. He'd been excited to see Jasmine Nightingale versus Batman. His money was on Jazz.

~~~~~~☆☆☆☆☆~~~~~~~~

My money is on Jazz too, tbh. It's the Rage of an overprotective older sister who already had to watch one teenage hero get hurt she's not gonna do it again.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi there,

Not sure if this was asked already or what tag i could find this in but could i ask for some regency era fics where aziraphale is fem presenting? Preferably with masc crowley but it doesnt have to be, and any rating is fine

One that i remember reading that's like what ive described is Time Flies (When You're Having Fun) by Mussimm

If this is too specific then any regency era fics would be fine! Another i enjoyed (but havent finished) was Just Married by TawnyOwl95

Thank you!

Hello. We have a #regency tag you can browse through. Here are some featuring female presenting Aziraphale and male presenting Crowley...

Waltzing Vaguely Downwards by WorseOmens (NR)

Lord Crowley was not looking for a potential wife, when he arrived at this party. That doesn’t mean he won’t find one.

Through the Centuries by NightValeian (T)

In order to assist Aziraphale with an assignment, Crowley suggests they pretend to be married. When the end draws closer, Aziraphale is surprised to find she doesn't want it to end.

Of rank by angelsnuffbox (E)

A lady of rank was not her own person, rather, she was always a woman of some man. Lady Aziraphale Fell had long ago accepted this fate, and went about defying it in all the ways she could. But a stranger she meets at a ballroom seems set on providing her with a fresh perspective.

A Nightingale in Berkeley Square by Ack_Emma (E)

Nightingale isn't like the other servants. It takes Sir Anthony a while to figure this out. It takes him hardly any time at all to grow extremely alarmed about it.

His Affections Be Her Salvation by ServantOfMischief (M)

Gabriel is determined to make his cousin's stay as comfortable as possible, despite the conditions that came with housing her in his home. Aziraphale has no illusions as to why she's heading to London, why her father seemed so happy with sending her away, but she will not look a gift horse in the mouth.

The Ineffable Mrs Eastgate by TawnyOwl95 (E)

Everyone likes Mrs Eastgate, including Sir Anthony Crowley. Even if it is a threat to his heart, and, sometimes, his dignity. Mrs Eastgate likes Sir Anthony Crowley, could love him even. If only the infuriating man would stop proposing to her.

And the two you mentioned...

Time Flies (When You're Having Fun) by Mussimm (E)

Versailles, 1769 - Aziraphale has a blessing to perform at a masquerade ball and it's important that he gets this one right. So important, in fact, that he can't seem to leave until he does. But with a fancy dress, an attentive demon and an endless supply of champagne, it's a little challenging to stay on mission.

Just Married by TawnyOwl95 (E)

Aziraphale East does not wish to get married. His mother has other ideas. After all, what other choice does a gently bred omega have? When Aziraphale persists in rejecting suitors, Mrs East takes matters into her own hands. However she has thoroughly underestimated how stubborn her youngest child can be. As does his new husband.

- Mod D

[umbracirrus]

WIP Wednesday 💛

Wednesday again, and I'm on time this week!!!

More drawings of my Elder Scrolls OCs, because I haven't done any writing this week. Ivetta, Maewynne, and Aevra, who I believe are my last few Dragonborn on my list of characters to draw! I've just got a handful of OCs left to go in terms of sketches before I move on to neatening them up and adding colour....

As with previous times, more details about them under the read more!

Also been tagged by the lovely @thequeenofthewinter and @throughtrialbyfire since I posted 💛

Ivetta

A member of the Nightingales and Guild Master of the Thieves Guild, Ivetta thrives in the shadows. Even her identity as Dragonborn is shrouded in mystery, with only a select few in Skyrim knowing purely down to coincidence or necessity. A stark difference to her upbringing in the high society of Solitude.

The entire reason that she no longer finds herself in those circles is purely because she hated what was demanded of her. Sure, she knew how to maintain a business ledger and had sat in on a handful of deals and witnessed agreements being made during her youth, but she was always more interested in seeing what happened behind the scenes. Seeing who greased the palms of who, watching as septims were exchanged behind the scenes, and witnessed the employees who had a bone to pick selling goods under the table at their employer's expense. It always intrigued her. It irritated her parents to no end, in particular when it involved business dealings to do with her family... even more so when it involved her uncovering their plans to try and marry her off so that she was out of the way, out of Solitude.

Ivetta decided to take herself out of the way without any strings attached, but not after setting things in motion to make her family's business crumble beneath their feet - finances in ruin, ledgers which didn't add up, and alerting guards to some very illegal practices. She ensured that she couldn't be implicated by relocating over the border before it could come to fruition, into Cyrodiil, and only returning to Skyrim when she caught wind of her family's business collapsing.

Of course, when she returned, she got caught up in that Imperial ambush...

With time, she found herself in Riften, following her encounter with Brynjolf when seeking Esbern, and enjoying the thrill of carrying out his little scheme. She then joined the Thieves Guild, and gradually found herself the Guild Master and Nightingale after unveiling Mercer Frey's treachery.

Unfortunately, she finds herself in the line of sight of the Black-Briar family... Hemming Black-Briar, in particular. And he knows exactly who she was and is.

Maewynne

Maewynne is the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood and the Dragonborn... though to the population of Skyrim, the Dragonborn is an imposing Nord warrior who wants to live in solitude (not the city) thanks to little whispers which she left in the right ears - not a Bosmer with personal space issues brought on through her clashes with the Penitus Oculatus following her attempts on the Emperor's life.

At one point, after the Dark Brotherhood have properly re-established themselves in Dawnstar after their near-eradication, she finds herself... bored. Far too many contracts over petty squabbles, and hardly anything interesting. So when she gets approached by somebody with a proposal not to kill, but to set a chain of events into motion to bring about the downfall of somebody who had been a thorn in her side and a threat to one of the Brotherhood's closest associates, the Thieves Guild... who was she to say no?

Aevra

For most of her life, Aevra had been loyal. Loyal to her Empire, loyal to Skyrim, loyal to her duties as a soldier. She never gave anything less than her best, even when she was tired, bruised, and bloody. Her family had served since the Oblivion Crisis, and it made her proud to fight for the Empire. She fought through the Great War, and continued to serve the Empire ever since. She never found herself in the highest of ranks though, instead preferring being active and on the ground.

But one day, that changed. She participated in the ambush to capture Ulfric Stormcloak - a man she still vividly remembered fighting alongside back in the past, knowing full well that he would not remember her for she was little more than one of many new soldiers at the time. During the night, after having stopped on their way to the border, she was responsible for getting some more firewood... and as she did so, she caught sight of somebody in the trees. An elf - specifically an Altmer. Before she could call for them to come out of hiding... she found herself seeing little more than red.

When the redness faded away, she was horrified to find herself being apprehended by her fellow soldiers. Blood coated her hands, bodies were scattered around, and the axe she had been using to chop wood was discarded on the ground some distance away, clearly having been used as a weapon. She knew that she had been under the influence of a spell, but her allies saw only one thing - she was attacking them. A traitor. There were even whispers that she was a Stormcloak in disguise, even as she protested and tried to explain herself as she was arrested and taken to join the other prisoners set for the executioner's block.

Being saved from death by Alduin was something that she didn't know whether to consider a blessing or a curse, but she knew that she needed to prove her innocence when she caught sight of Hadvar, one of her fellow soldiers, about to return to Solitude after their escape from Helgen.

Even as she found herself in the spotlight after learning that she was the Dragonborn, no matter what she said or did, she was unable to persuade the Empire that she was innocent of murdering several fellow soldiers, and that it had no doubt been part of a Thalmor machination. She feared being arrested that much, she had to get Lydia to carry out tasks in Imperial-held lands in Skyrim on her behalf (unless it was a dragon attack, in which case she would try to get herself out of there as soon as it was handled).

There were those who heard her out though, who believed in her innocence, thanks to somebody who did remember her from the Great War. But when those people were Stormcloaks, people she had seen as the enemy... she finds herself in a dilemma.

[quills-of-freedom]

Short Story ~

Forbidden Fruit 🍎

Female Bodied Reader X Porco Galliard

Tag list info here 🐙

Eren and Porco are notorious rivals within your neighbourhood. Problem is, Eren is your brother and Porco is your boyfriend. Surely, nothing could go wrong, right?

Warnings: Smut. 18+ only.

Your teeth clamp down onto your bottom lip as those welcome flutters of excitement soar around your lower stomach; you’re giddy with glee, like a love struck teen hugging your pillow and kicking your legs. You couldn’t help it. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was that image of Porco, your boyfriend, smirking that knowing smile at you while Eren wasn’t looking.

They’d gotten into yet another heated argument, having bumped into each other in the street - it was a common occurrence, considering your secret lover only lived a few houses down from you.

From childhood rivals, to enemies; it seemed a shame that the two young men had grown to hate each other so much. You guessed that���s what you get when an inferno meets a tornado. Both hot headed, quick to temper and strongly opinionated. Whatever the reason, after they’d been separated and those handsome eyes snapped right to yours, Eren too distracted trying to shove off Jean and Connie from restricting his movements towards his target. He didn’t notice Porco running his tongue of his bottom lip before flashing you half a smile. How could Porco resist Eren’s gorgeous sister? With her teasing aura, pouring beautiful looks and nightingale voice?

Rolling onto your back with a sigh, you just knew you had to see him tonight.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eren’s gloomy voice calls from behind his laptop, not even glancing up to look at you.

“Out.” You shrug, putting on your coat.

“It’s dark out. I’m coming with you.”

You hide an eyeroll and inhale a silent sigh back into your lungs.

“I’m only going to the store. I won’t be long.” You quickly head for the door before he can protest.

Just as your hand touches the handle, he’s at your side, pulling on his black hoodie.

“You’re not going out alone at this time. What you want from the store?”

Your frustration is diluted by the touching sentiment. He may be a little over protective, but it’s because he cares. He’s a good brother. You can’t help but have a reoccurring pang of guilt as you return to your room after your little unnecessary trip to the store. You didn’t like lying to him - but you didn’t even want to imagine the hell that would form if he ever found out.

You sit eating your snacks you were forced to buy, trying to come up with a plan. It wasn’t some cheesy movie; you couldn’t climb out of your window and sneak away without hurting yourself. You were two stories up.

Just as those thoughts left your fleeting mind, there’s a tapping at your window. As if manifested by sheer will, there was Porco waving at you with one hand, clinging onto the drainpipe with the other.

Woah. It is like one of those movies! You think, as you cough on your chips in surprise.

Hurrying to the window, you let him inside. The fresh air hitting you helping carry his cologne to your nose.

“You got a lock on that door?” Is the first thing he asks as he climbs inside your room.

“Y-yeah. It’s locked.”

“Good.”

His arms instantly snake around your waist and he pulls you into a deep kiss; hands roaming hungrily through deep, quivering breaths.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you so bad all day…” His vocals are barely a whisper as he pushes his hips against yours; his already hardening cock imprinting against you through his joggers. “Where’ve you been, huh? Making me wait… you’re gonna pay for that…”

Before you can reply your silenced by his tongue sliding down your throat, trembling arms lowering you onto your soft bed.

His mouth devours your cheek and neck as his hand smooths up your thigh and skirt, hastily pushing aside your panties and thumbing your clit.

“P-Porco, Eren might hear…” You whisper, voice strained from how heated you were.

“I don’t care.” He slobbers into your ear before nipping it with his teeth. “I need you to wet my cock with that pretty pussy.”

It wasn’t too long later he was thrusting deeply into you; his groans muffled between your shoulder, neck and pillow. Your legs in the air and toes curling with each beautiful drag of his fat cock against your ridges; your eyes rolling and biting down on your hand to avoid crying out loudly.

“Ah yeah… ah fuck…” He sings deeply into your ear. “Fuck… so tight. You feel amazing, babe. ’t-take my cock s'so good.”

You both freeze with horror as there’s a knocking at your door.

“Hey, shit head. I’m making a snack, you want any? Or have you filled up on that junk you got from the store?”

Porco’s head lowers. Both from frustration and irritation.

That voice that grated on him so much wasn’t one he wanted to hear while he was buried deep in you; your slick covering his entire shaft, groin and balls.

“N-no, I’m good, thanks!” You squeak, trying to sound as normal as possible.

You hear the floorboards creek on the other side of the door as Eren shifts his weight.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I AH!”

You call out loudly as Porco unexpectedly thrusts hard into you, taking your breath away.

“Y/N? Everything okay?”

Porco groans loudly, thrusting faster; pinning you down by your arms with a grin, groaning louder.

“What the fuck?!” Eren calls out, banging on the door.

“I’m about to fill up your sister, Eren.” Porco calls, clenching his eyes shut; his release oh-so-beautifully close. “I’m going to unload my junk and fill her up ‘til she’s choking on it.”

He wasn’t trying to be an ass. Well… he did a little. He was tired of having to keep you two a secret. He cared for you very deeply, and Porco being Porco… well, it just happened.

The loud bangs of Eren trying to break down the solid oak wood of the door and the even louder groan of Porco’s orgasm as he did, indeed pump you full, was washed away as you reached your own massive climax. You don’t know if this act of possessiveness is what pushed you into such a huge orgasm, or the fact he was suddenly going so hard and fast. Maybe both? Either way, it all drained out as your own cries of ecstasy only ignited Eren’s temper even more, the kicks to the door getting more violent as Porco thrusts with one final grunt.

[venusvity]

정윤아 … …  (  THE STARS AND HER SEVEN MOONS.  )

❝ If I have learned anything in this long life of mine, it is this: in love we find out who we want to be; in war we find out who we are. ❞                         ―  Kristin Hannah, The Nightingale

CHARACTERS :   KIM SENA …   ELLIOT SON  …   HWANG YEOJUN

WORDS : 4.3K

WARNINGS / NOTES : Crying. She's upset in the beginning. IDK how to tag this but her father is in jail for killing her mom and that's mentioned. Mentions of past parental abuse, toxic households, and substance abuse but none are descriptive. Toxic relationships. Cheating kinda idk I'm on her side but! Suggestive content. It's def not smut but sex is implied and discussed within this piece! Kissing. Arguments. Smoking. If I missed anything, please let me know! Barely proofread btw! rbs, comments, and asks are always appreciated ♡

Sena wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, standing in front of Yeojun’s front door as she waits for him to answer the door. She feels like she looks stupid just standing there with a red envelope in one hand and the other constantly wiping at her face to keep any tear droplets from resting on her skin for too long.

A small sob bubbles up from her chest and out her lips, prompting her to knock on the door again, this time with more urgency.

It’s dark out. Sena doesn’t know what time it is but she knows it’s not that late. Yeojun said she could come over, he said he’d be there for her, he told her he loved her and he’d be there when she gets there. Can that much change in an hour?

When the door finally opens, Sena isn’t met with the sight of Yeojun but someone taller and less familiar looking.

“Sena?” Elliot questions, looking around behind her before down at her. “What are you doing here?”

Sena has to ask herself that question too. She sniffles, looking at the envelope in her hand. The red stands out in the worst way, making her face crumble and her bottom lip tremble. She sniffles as she wipes her face again, shaking her head. Elliot furrows his brows at her, stepping closer to put a hand on her arm gently.

“Are you–”

“Where’s Yeojun? He-He said I could come over,” She tells Elliot, wiping her eyes harshly. “I-I’m fine. I just had a bad day.” Sena answers when she realizes she interrupted his question. She doesn’t want to worry him. She doesn’t want to worry anyone.

Elliot looks down at the letter in her hand, not knowing what it is or what it means to Sena but he’s not stupid. He knows whatever that letter is, it upsets her. Elliot hates when girls are upset. He hates when anyone is upset but something about a girl like Sena being upset makes his chest ache.

“He’s not…He’s not here,” Elliot answers slowly. Sena lifts her head to look at him, clearly confused.

“What?” She sounds so small and defeated it makes Elliot frown. He nods, giving her arm a squeeze when he sees her brows knit up at him.

“He left, like, 30 minutes ago.”

“Where’d he go?” Sena asks, her voice cracking slightly. Elliot sighs softly not knowing if he should give Yeojun up that easily.

He went to The Blue Room again. Elliot knows that probably won’t shock Sena if he tells her. Yeojun is always there. It’s like a second home to him at this point.

“He, um, he went out. ‘Didn’t tell me where.” It’s vague but not vague enough for Sena to put the pieces together. Sena shakes her head as another sob spills from her lips.

“But he said I could come over,” Sena whimpers, covering her eyes with her palm when she feels her control slipping away. Tears pool down her cheeks and her neck as she’s given up on wiping them away. Elliot mumbles a quiet “Alright,” as he puts an arm around her shoulders and pulls her inside, shutting the door behind her.

Elliot guides her to the couch, sitting her down before sitting next to her. He keeps his hands to himself, setting them on his lap and against his thighs as Sena sobs beside him. She keeps her face covered, bent over so her hair is in front of her like a curtain. She doesn’t want Elliot to see her cry—She doesn’t want anyone to see her cry. Sena hates when people see her cry.

Elliot looks around the room as he thinks of something to do before slowly reaching over and resting his hand on her back, rubbing circles into the muscles. Sena instantly falls into Elliot’s chest, pressing her face into his shirt and letting out a loud muffled sob. Naturally, Elliot’s arms wrap around Sena, holding her to his chest and resting his chin on the top of her head like they’ve been friends their whole lives.

Elliot and Sena know each other but he wouldn’t consider her anything more than a friend. Just a friend. Not even a close friend, just a mutual friend who he enjoys seeing but has never had a real conversation with. Despite their lack of conversations, Elliot has a soft spot for her. Everyone has a soft spot for Sena. Elliot figures he isn’t that special.

He eyes the envelope in her hand again, continuing to rub her back as he does so.

“Is that letter what upset you?” Elliot asks, feeling her nod against his chest with another harrowing sob. Elliot tries to see what’s written on it but Sena’s hand is covering most of it. He can see English letters on it though. He knows Sena is from the states but that’s about it. He assumes she’s from somewhere nice like California or New York.

Sena hasn’t even opened the envelope in her hand, too upset to do so. She doesn’t know how her father got her address or why he’s writing her from where he is but it makes her feel six years old again. It feels like she’s in that tight space between her bed and the floor again. When she’d crawl under her bed with her stuffed rabbit to try and quiet the yelling of her father and mother but it never worked. It makes her sob, holding onto Elliot’s torso tighter.

“I don’t want to open it. I-I-I don’t even know how it got here,” Sena sobs, feeling Elliot lift his head from hers to lift his hand and soothe her hair down. Slowly, he reaches down and takes the letter from her hand, lifting it to read it.

Harlowe. Elliot’s heard Yeojun call her that once or twice. Elliot puts the letter out of her sight, wrapping both his arms around her again.

“Then you don’t have to read it. We can just pretend it never happened.” Elliot soothes, giving her a smile that she can’t see. Sena nods between her sobs, pulling herself closer to Elliot until she’s practically in his lap. Elliot doesn’t mind, he loves feeling like he’s helping. That’s all he’s doing. He’s helping Sena.

Elliot holds Sena to his chest until her cries slow down, turning from sobs to quiet sniffles. She lifts her head with a deep breath, swallowing her spit as she takes a deep breath through her nose. It helps to not be looking at the letter, she lifts her hand to wipe her tears but Elliot beats her to it. His thumb swiped under her eye, watching himself brush her tears away as she looks into his eyes with slightly parted lips.

Elliot’s palm splays against Sena’s cheek, holding her face in his hand as his eyes flick from her tear-stained cheeks to her eyes. Sena stares into Elliot’s eyes long enough to realize that they’re not just brown but closer to a deep honey shade she’s never seen before. Sena sniffles, blinking her wet eyes at him.

“Where did Yeojun really go?” Sena asks, voice deep yet quiet. She’s clearly worn from the crying she’s been doing but Elliot isn’t phased. His thumb strokes the skin of her cheek even though there are no tears left to wipe.

“He went to The Blue Room,” Elliot tells her in a whisper. He’s sure the girls are home but they’re asleep. It’s just him and Sena.

Sena moves closer to the other, their faces just inches from each other. Elliot lets her. He has no reason not to. Sena’s hands go to his chest, taking his t-shirt in her hands and playing with the collar.

“Do you think he’s fucking someone there?” Sena wonders, her hands slowly moving from his shirt to his neck. Elliot can feel his skin prickle, his breath catching slightly because of how cold her hands are against his warm skin. 

Elliot loves Yeojun. Yeojun is a brother to him. Neither one of them would be where they are without the other but Elliot won’t deny the truth: Yeojun is a wreck. He fucks up anything good in his life like he can’t help it. Elliot believes that he really can’t help it. He knows how his childhood was, how his parents never paid attention to him, how his dad would take him to the hotels he’d meet his mistresses at, and how his mother hasn’t spoken to him since he was 13. Yeojun had it rough, Elliot knows that, but he wishes he grew stronger from it but instead, he let it destroy him. 

“Yeah,” Elliot whispers, nodding. “Yeah. I’m 100% sure he is.”

Sena swallows at the honesty but nods in agreement. She knows it’s true. No matter how hard she ignores it, it’s happening. Sena scans over Elliot’s face, eyes landing on his lips once again. Sena lifts her hand to rest on Elliot’s cheek, mirroring how he holds her. Her thumb runs over his bottom lip, testing the waters as she keeps her eyes locked with his.

“Do you want to fuck me, Elliot?”

Elliot’s eyes jerk around her face, blinking a few times at Sena’s brashness. He doesn’t have a definitive answer for her.

“I want to kiss you,” Elliot tells her honestly. 

Sena looks slightly taken aback by his answer but she’s not disappointed. A small smile grows on her lips, leaning in to collide her lips with Elliot’s. Elliot pulls her in without missing a beat, both his hands taking her face into them to deepen the kiss instantly. Sena moans softly into his mouth, dropping her hands onto his shirt again, holding tightly onto the fabric to keep him as close as possible.

Sena can feel her mind start to turn to static, making her moan into his mouth. She presses her chest against his, pushing against him to try and be on top of him but Elliot doesn’t budge. He’s never liked having people be on top of him, he’s always needed control no matter what he’s doing. He pushes against her, making her fall back against the couch with a quiet gasp as he crawls on top of her.

The weight of Elliot’s chest against hers is grounding but in a way that makes her feel like she’s floating. Sena has never been high, she’s never even been drunk, but she imagines that this is what it feels like. Elliot is much bigger than Yeojun, blanketing her completely as he rests on top of her. His forearms cage her head between them as he moves his lips against hers without missing a beat. 

Sena remembers the first time she kissed Yeojun. It was sloppy and offbeat enough to make Sena laugh into the kiss but this kiss with Elliot is different, really different. They move in perfect unison with one another, Sena knows exactly where her hands go. One rests on the back of his neck and the other holds onto his bicep. Elliot pulls back with a deep breath, resting his forehead against hers.

Sena nuzzles her nose against his, watching a smile grow on his pink lips. Elliot stares down at her, gaze gentle and kind before he leans in and kisses her cheek. Sena hums sweetly, guiding his lips back to hers to collide them in another deep kiss. Elliot moans quietly into her mouth, Sena’s nails dig into his shoulders as their lips move against each other. Sena can feel Elliot’s hands drag down her sides to her hips, squeezing the flesh tightly as his lips drag away from hers.

“Can I eat you out?” Elliot whimpers against Sena’s lips. Sena thinks she doesn’t hear him right, swallowing thickly as she blinks up at him.

“Eat me out?”

“Yeah,” Elliot confirms with a nod, “I want to go down on you.” He’s looking into her eyes seriously, waiting for her answer. It’s not like Sena hasn’t had someone go down on her before. Before she and Yeojun were official, she had Finn’s head between her legs as he lived there. Sena doesn’t like to think about her time with Finn not because it was a bad time but because if she thinks about it too long, she can feel regret seeping in through her skin and into her bloodstream, poisoning her and leaving her filled with a paralyzing sense of sorrow.

She misses Finn. She wishes she choose him but she’ll never say that out loud.

“Like, right here? On the couch?” Sena wonders, blinking up at him. Elliot chuckles, looking around before shrugging.

“I could eat you out in the kitchen if you want. I could do it any–”

“I was thinking your room, maybe. So, you know, we’re behind a closed door and my pussy isn’t just out in your living room?” Sena laughs up at him, making Elliot laugh as well, nodding in understanding between laughs.

“Fair point.” Elliot pushes himself up and off of her. He pulls her away from the couch before she can look at it. The red envelope that started this all still sits on the end of the couch, untouched and in the back of Sena’s racing mind as Elliot drags her through the dark and cold dorm. Her mind is too busy thinking of how his hands swallow her’s so easily and how warm they are against hers.

To say Elliot distracted her would be an understatement. Sena feels like static in the best way, still panting from her orgasm as Elliot crawls up from between her legs and crashes their lips together in a fiery kiss that she struggles to keep up with. Her arms wrap around him tightly, fingers twisting in his dark brown hair before they drop to his hips, pushing his sweatpants down only a bit before he stops her with a shake of his head.

“No, it’s okay.”

“But you–”

“I came in my pants,” Elliot tells her honestly and bluntly, causing Sena to blink up at him in slight surprise before laughing softly. Elliot smiles at her, catching her lips in a quick kiss before shrugging. “You’re really hot when you feel good. I just couldn’t help it.”

“You’re too much,” Sena laughs, turning her head away from him and towards his bedside table. Elliot’s room is clean and tidy, something she wasn’t expecting. Everything seems to have a place. She likes that.

Sena turns her head back towards him.

“Do you have a cigarette?” She asks sweetly. Elliot looks a bit surprised that Sena smokes. Most people are. She’s grown accustomed to the reaction. Elliot nods.

“Yeah. They’re on the windowsill. Just open it when you do it. I don’t like it getting in my carpet and shit.” Elliot kisses her cheek one last time before he pushes himself up and off of her, going to his closet to get a new set of sweatpants presumably. Sena gets up as well, trailing over to the window where the carton of cigarettes lies along with a bright green light.

Sena started smoking when she was around sixteen. Her mother had just died and it seemed like the perfect time to pick up a destructive habit that everyone in Korea could look past. Everyone around her smoked when she was a trainee and when she got to Venus it was the same thing. Yoonah smokes, Aki smokes, Jiah smokes, the only one who doesn’t is Chloe and even then Sena has seen her take a drag or two from Jiah’s cigarette when they would smoke outside their old dorm.

As Sena places the cigarette between her lips, she looks out Elliot’s now opened window. She leans out slightly so the night air hits her, warm and still, the click of the lighter the only thing to be heard in the otherwise silent Angelico neighborhood. It’s weird not living here anymore, she thinks as the cigarette ignites, prompting her to take her first drag. She spots their red-painted dorm, seeing the lights on in two of the windows.

“Who’s in the Venus dorm? Do you know?” Sena asks with furrowed brows, stunned their prized dorm had been filled so fast. Elliot looks back at her as he steps into a new pair of black sweatpants.

“Ah, I think it’s those angel girls. The new group he’s debuting.”

“Already?”

“He stopped doing the gold plague shit after y’alls contracts got sold. I guess he gave up on the ranks when his moneymakers left.”

Sena grunts at that, taking another drag of her cigarette. She tilts her head at the dorm in the distance.

“Is he fucking one of them?”

“Oh yeah,” Elliot answers without missing a beat, collapsing back on his bed. “Jinae AKA Angel. She’s been a trainee for, like, ten years. She’s kinda fucked up so I’m not shocked he picked her to add to his harem.”

Sena knows she shouldn’t laugh. It’s fucked up what Jinhwa does but she can’t help but chuckle softly at how Elliot words it so casually. The next drag she takes is longer than usual, blowing some out of her mouth and into the air.

“How’s she fucked up?” Sena doesn’t really care but she’s nosey. She likes to know everything about everyone even strangers like Angel.

“Ah, she’s just got, like, trauma and shit. ‘Had a fucked up boyfriend or something. She got left for dead in some guy’s basement.” 

Sena’s head snaps towards him so fast she gets dizzy.

“Excuse me?” Sena leans back in the room while keeping her arms out the window to keep the cigarette smoke from coming inside. She looks stupid but she’s trying to be respectful to Elliot’s rules. Elliot nods, eyes wide as he leans against his headboard, grabbing an Xbox controller that sat neatly on his bedside table.

“Oh yeah, she got, like, fucked up. I think he thought he killed her or something and left her bleeding out on the floor and she made a run for it. Apparently, she had been missing for days and no one reported her missing. Not even her parents,” Elliot pauses, the startup sound of his Xbox filling the room as Sena stares at him in utter shock. He nods.

“Crazy shit.”

“Yeah,” Sena agrees, “crazy shit.”

Sena finishes three cigarettes before she decides to wait in Yeojun’s room for him. Elliot told her that she could just hang out with him until he got back but Sena rejected the offer. 

She came here to see Yeojun. She’s going to see Yeojun.

It’s probably around 3 AM when he finally shuffles into his room, eyes heavy and reeking of smoke. Sena doesn’t help. She’s smoked at least four more cigarettes since she got to Yeojun’s room, the fifth one between her slender fingers as she sits on the edge of his bed, smiling.

“Hi, baby,” Sena greets, making Yeojun jump slightly. He blinks his heavy eyes at her as if she a mirage before clearing his throat.

“Hey Lowe,” Yeojun replies, looking her over wearily before taking a step towards her. He doesn’t say anything as Sena takes a drag of her cigarette, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward clear of his throat.

“How long have you–”

“Hours. Elliot let me in,” Sena snaps pointedly. Yeojun gets it instantly, sighing through his nose with a nod. His understanding only makes her madder. “And he helped me feel better. You know, the thing you said you’d do.”

“I know, I know,” Yeojun sighs, defeat clear in his voice as he walks over to his closet to change out of his dirty clothes. “I just got caught up. I’m sorry. I got so busy so quick I couldn't–”

“Busy doing what?” Sena interjects with a tilt of her head. Yeojun doesn’t have a lie ready for that question so he just gives her an annoyed look, tonguing at his cheek before going back to digging through his dresser for a new shirt. Sena raises her brows, still waiting for an answer. 

“Were you busy with Evie?”

“Evie is just my friend, Sena.”

“Oh like Chinsun was your friend?” She seems to just have a comeback for everything out of Yeojun’s mouth. The mention of Chinsun is a strike into an infected wound that won’t heal, making Yeojun hit the wood of his dresser before whipping around and pointing at Sena but she’s unphased, bringing the cigarette to her lips again.

“That was one time–”

“Like Niky was one time?” She’s like a viper striking her prey, giving him no time to retreat or run away. “It’s never one time. You don’t know how to do one-time things, Yeojun. I know how you are..”

“You sure about that?” He snaps, raising his voice just an octave but it’s enough to get Sena’s heart pounding and walls to go up.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sena isn’t sure she wants to know the answer but she’s already asked. Yeojun shrugs, crossing his arms with a theatrical confused expression on his face. He’s mocking her and it makes her blood boil.

“Do you really know me that well, Sena?” Yeojun counters, leaving Sena the one confused now. Does she know him? Of course, she knows Yeojun and Yeojun knows her. They know each other.

“Of course, I fucking know you.”

“What’s my mom’s name?”

“Elizabeth,” Sena answers without missing a beat, blinking at Yeojun with an unclear look in her eyes when he stares at her in slight shock that she got it right. Sena looks him over, brows knit slightly as she tilts her up.

“What’s my mom’s name?” She’s mentioned her mother plenty of times and said her name to him more times than she can count. He should know this. It should be easy.

But it’s not easy for him. The silence tells her that. Sena lets the silence inflates until she can feel it about to burst. There’s a knot in her throat that makes her eyes hot, causing her to laugh quietly.

“Yeah,” Sena nods, taking a drag of her cigarette before standing from his bed, putting it out in the ashtray beside his bed. “Exactly what I thought.”

Yeojun sighs, quickly moving in front of the doorway to block Sena from exiting. Sena rolls her eyes, shaking her head at the useless gesture. She doesn’t know why he’s putting up a fight now. He always puts up a fight at the end, making it harder for both of them.

“Move, Yeojun.”

“Baby, don’t leave mad,” Yeojun pleads with her in that pathetically soft voice that goes straight to her heart. He tries to hold her face in his hands but she twists and turns to keep him away, making sounds of protest every time he tries to touch her. “I can’t let you leave mad. You know I can’t.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Sena simply tells him, shoving harshly at his chest so he gives her some fucking space. “I can’t do this anymore. It’s fucking embarrassing being your girlfriend. If I can even call myself that,” Sena rants, figuring this is her one chance to get all her grievances out before she leaves seemingly for the last time.

Her eyes water more when she begins to wish that this isn’t how they end. Sena never put much thought into their breakup, focusing her energy on other things like how their children would look and what their house would look like. She never thought about the end. She tries to avoid the ending of things.

“You don’t love me like I love you.”

“That’s not–”

“It is. It is,” Sena laments sadly, taking his face into her hands and staring into his deep brown eyes. He resembles a helpless doe when all she looks at is his eyes. She knows he’s more than that. Sena rubs her lips together, forcing a thin smile on her lips to stop herself from crying.

“One day, you’re going to wake up and realize you have no one left. Just cheap hookups from the shithole club you’ll never leave,” She whispers to him, shaking his face slightly as his face falls with each word that leaves her lips. “You’ll die there, Yeojun…And you’ll be alone because you’ve chased everyone who’s ever really loved you away. I feel so bad for you.”

Yeojun doesn’t break eye contact with her even when his eyes get glossy, jaw tightening as he tries to keep himself together. Sena swallows the lump in her throat, pulling his head down to kiss his forehead so gently. She pushes him away from the door gently, watching him move with no protest.

When she steps out into the hallway, she doesn’t feel anything. She’s pretty much numb to everything that just happened, sighing to herself as she makes her way back to the living room so she can leave and go home. She needs to shower and sleep for a year after tonight.

Then she sees it. Sitting untouched on the couch is the red envelope that started this all. It’s in stark contrast to the cream leather of the couch, making its presence undeniable. 

Sena just stares at it for a moment, blinking at it as if it would come to life and walk over to her. It’s just a piece of paper, she tells herself as she steps back into the living room. 

It can’t hurt you, she reminds herself as she picks the envelope up.

It doesn’t weigh one thousand pounds anymore. It’s light like a feather now. Sena flips it around between her fingers, observing every detail of the envelope before she makes her exit.

There’s a trash bin next to the door. Sena looks at it for a moment, tossing the letter inside it as if it meant nothing.

Because it does. It means absolutely nothing.

[bayisdying]

A/N: this is two days late but oh well 🤷‍♀️ please enjoy. Also this is my first attempt at RPF. Might write more in the future.

Tagging the besties for the resties: @mrsjaderogers @gracespicybradshaw @dragon-kazansky @askmarinaandothers @callmemana @starlit-epiphany @callsignscupcake @breadsquash @kloofspeaks @ladylanera @roosterscockpit

-----

"Sorry I'm not there, I'm so proud of you babe. I'll see you soon."

Baylie smiled at her boyfriends text, yeah it sucked that their careers were both demanding. She could have quit nursing once they had gotten more serious, but her mother had taught her to never rely on a man. Even if that man was very sexy, talented, and perfect. Plus nursing had been her calling since she was a little girl. She wasn't giving that dream up easily. So she'd take the time apart, the FaceTime dates, and the random flights to Atlanta when she had the weekend off to see him for not long enough.

It was Florence Nightingale's birthday, aka Nurse's Day. May 12th, the day people celebrated those who followed in Florence's footsteps and became nurses in their own right.

Her phone buzzed again,

"Have a good shift today babe, go save lives Nightingale."

It made her laugh, when they had first started dated a little over three years ago, he had called her Nightingale in case anyone hacked his phone they wouldn't know who he was texting such flirty texts to. Since they'd gone public a year ago during the Top Gun Maverick premieres, he didn't have to worry about that anymore. The world knew Danny Ramirez was a taken man, and his Nightingale was the one.

The shift started smoothly, the hand off from morning shift was as perfect as it could have been.

An hour into the shift her phone buzzes in her back pocket and when she gets a chance she checks it. It's a video from Danny. One of the first times they'd gone on a date and he'd taken her ice skating. They'd fallen more than they skated so the video was alot of fails and laughing. It brought a smile to her face but the caption was the best part

"I fall for you a little more everyday."

She just shakes her head and goes back to work leaving her phone at the desk this time. When she finally has time to sit back down and chart she sees two new messages.

The first was a collage of pictures from their very first offical date. He'd taken plenty of pictures of her sitting across the table from him.

"From the first date, I knew we had something special."

The second was another video, this time one she'd taken during the filming of Top Gun, he was working out and well she couldn't resist him.

"I work out everyday so I can hold your hand like a man."

She snorts at that one which causes her coworkers to throw glances her way.

The whole shift she gets text like that from him. Photos, videos, and even a link to "Stay Stay Stay" on Spotify. Baylie loved to say that was their song, that they were in it for the long haul. At the end of her shift her feet hurt, her bladder was full, and she was tired. Her phone buzzed with one last text.

"Meet me where it all began..."

Her mind reeled, he was in town? Had he been in town the whole day? Why hadn't he told her that?

She makes her way to the Pier, where the coffee shop they'd first met was situated. It was late at night and eerily quiet but she noticed lights on in the little cafe. She walks up and on the door is a sign

"Come on in Nightingale."

She opens the door and notices that the normal table centerpieces have been replaced with vases of yellow roses, her favorite. Nobody seems to be there but there's a note on the counter.

"I love you. -Danny."

"How'd I do?"

Baylie jumps as Danny appears from behind the counter.

"Jesus fucking Christ Danny." She says with a hand over her heart. "I just about had a heart attack."

He laughs and steps around the counter to kiss her.

"When did you get here?" She asks.

"Flew in this morning."

"Why? Is everything okay?"

He tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, "Everything is more than fine, I'm with my girl now." He leans in for another soft kiss.

"So you spent all day planning this?"

"I did, all for you Bay, I even have presents."

Her eyes light up, usually in relationships she hated when men spoiled her, but with Danny it was different. He wasn't buying her love, he was buying her things because he simply loved her.

He pulls out a tiny box with a bow on it, "Happy Birthday Nightingale."

She laughs but opens the box anyways, inside is a pin in the shape of an apple. She looks up at him with confusion in her eyes.

"I figured that might keep the doctors away." He jokes and she punches his arm for it.

"But while that might just keep the doctors away, I have something that will keep all the men away." He gets down on one knee and pulls out a velvet box.

"Danny..."

"Shhh let me do this, Baylie Steele, when we met in this very coffee shop over three years ago I had no idea that the pretty girl who sat at my table would mean so much to me. You have changed my whole view on life and the world. You are a constant light, and I can't imagine my life without you by my side. So please." His voice cracks a little. "Will you marry me?"

"Of course I will!"

"Wait did you say yes?"

"Yes you idiot." She teases, and he puts the ring on her finger.

"Guys she said yes!" He yells out to seemingly nobody, until the door to the kitchen opens at in walks out Miles, Grace, Alana, and Glen. Plus her own mother pops up from behind the counter having recorded the whole thing for Danny.

"You all are here?"

"Duh! I wasn't missing this for the world babe!" Alana says coming over with Grace to hug their best friend.

"Me either, I had to witness all this cuteness." Grace adds.

Baylie hugs everyone, squeezing her mom extra tight.

"Now let's go celebrate the future Mr. and Mrs. Ramirez!" Glen exclaims.

The group heads out locking up the cafe for the owners. Danny and Baylie hang back a little holding hands and smiling.

"This was perfect Danny. I love you."

"I love you too Nightingale."

-----

[boneswriting]

Purple Flowers ; Antonio x Reader (SFW)

art is official by netease!

shoutout to @callimaria

tags: Antonio Paganini, Identity V, The Violinist, Antonio x Reader, fluff, flowers, Robbie, the Axe Boy, Memory, Little Girl

warnings: none!

side note: the reader is depicted as gender neutral and has no predetermined attributes, other than they wear an apron. reader does have a feminine-ish nickname

word count: 1,872

The Survivor’s side of the Manor was, more often than not, nothing but chaos. There were some individuals who attempted to keep peace but other than that it tended to be a free-for-all.

Emily Dyer, the Doctor, usually made food for everyone at breakfast and dinner. Sometimes, other Survivors would lend an extra hand when she was particularly overwhelmed with her work. She had once complained to Miss Nightingale that they needed someone to help with upkeep. Yes, they were victims held hostage in a murder game, but they were still people and wanted to find comfort in the few things they had. Emily never heard anything back, so she assumed Miss Nightingale ignored her. Emily, for once, was wrong.

Mary, better known as the Bloody Queen, was quick to make use of the new Caretaker. She often sent them her dresses to be mended and such, as Nanny was adept in sewing and the likes; they enjoyed fixing clothes for the Manors inhabitants.

“Memory, my dear, would you like to go outside and help me plant these seeds?” Nanny asked, currently in the Little Girl’s room folding her clothes. Said girl was sitting on the floor playing with her plushies, looking rather bored. The second she heard the offer, though, she was quick to jump up and began tugging on the Caretakers apron.

“Yes, yes!” She pleaded. “Please! I’m so bored and I don’t have any other matches today. I may just die of boredom…”

“Don’t say that, silly goose.” The Caretaker pinched her nose, which made Memory giggle and swat their hands away. “Would you mind if Robbie joined us?”

It was an unspoken rule that Nanny was the pseudo-parents of the younger ones, specifically Memory and Robbie, better known as the Axe Boy. The 2 kids got along rather well and, in the odd chance they have a match together, they act like they don’t see the other. Nanny could also be found with Helena, the Mind’s Eye, helping her with tasks that she was unable to do. Helena would wake up each morning with an outfit neatly folded at the end of the bed. She knew it was Nanny trying to help out, as Helena tended to wear clothes that didn’t match at all. A note, printed in braille via a printer, would say the young lady’s matches for the day. Helena had no complaints, though. She enjoyed the Nanny’s help.

“No, let’s go get Robbie!” Memory agreed happily, raising her arms so her caretaker could pick her up. The Nanny did just that, balancing the Little Girl on their hip. The two navigated their way through the Manor before walking into the library. The duo didn’t know where Robbie was so they just started checking where he usually hung around: the kitchen, the library, or the garden. His reasoning was he “didn’t like to be left alone.”

Nanny looked around, seeing if they could find the telltale sack he always wore. Much to their surprise, they found the young boy sitting next to a tall and pale Hunter. From what they could see, the Hunter was helping Robbie read, their long finger guiding Robbie’s focus on the words and helping if he mispronounced anything, a smile on his face the entire time. Nanny grinned, happy that someone else was fond of the child. Even if he was dead, he was still young and deserved the education and affection he never received.

Nanny walked up to the two hunters, stopping a few feet away from them before clearing their throat.

“Pardon for Memory and I’s intrusion,” they gestured to Memory who was still sat on their hip. She was taking a small nap, it seemed. “We just wanted to know if you would like to join us in the garden, Robbie? I did manage to get my hand on some juniper seeds if you would like to help us.”

Robbie looked up from the book the other Hunter was holding before jumping up from the couch and crashed into Nanny’s torso, giving them a tight hug.

“Yes, please!” He giggled. He tugged on Memory’s foot in an attempt to wake her up. “Wakie-wakie! Let’s go play outside!” He cheered.

Memory quickly woke up before wiggling around, happy to see her best friend. Nanny quickly, but gently, dropped the Little Girl to the floor. Robbie immediately grabbed her hand and they ran from the library and made their way to the garden. Nanny watched them run with a fond look on their face, happy they could find consolation in one another despite the circumstances.

“I apologize for interrupting your time with Robbie.” The Caretaker said, turning to the unknown Hunter. He had long black hair and wore a rather dirty looking purple suit.

He gently closed the book, set it beside him, and stood up from the couch. His joints popped from the pressure they were under and he stood up as tall as he could go. He had a permanent slouch and slow walk due to his catalepsy, spasticity, and dyspepsia from his former life. Despite the limitations of his body, he tried to ignore them and enjoy what little life he had.

“It is no issue,” he dismissed, his smile somehow getting a bit bigger. “I was unaware he had a friend, but I am glad he does.” He held out a hand before introducing himself. “I am the Violinist, Antonio Paganini. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

“I am the Caretaker, but everyone calls me Nanny-“

“No, dear,” Antonio interrupted. “Your name.”

Nanny, slightly perturbed, gave the tall man their preferred name. He repeated it, the action sending small shivers down Nanny’s spine. They wouldn’t deny he was rather attractive.

“Lovely to meet you. I shall call you Nanny, your name will be a secret. I shan’t speak it to another soul.” He promised.

“Thank you, Mr. Paganini.” Nanny smiled before shaking his hand. Antonio lifted their hand to his mouth before placing a small kiss on their knuckles.

“Please, just Antonio. Would you mind if I accompany you to the garden? I would enjoy the honor of getting more acquainted with you.”

After more polite conversation, the two walked side by side to the garden, lightly joking around with each other. Antonio noticed that Nanny had slowed their pace significantly and chose to walk alongside him rather than hurry on without him. It brought a warm feeling to his chest.

Some days passed and the two adults quickly started a routine. After lunch, Nanny would collect Memory so she could play with Robbie. They would go to the library where Antonio taught Robbie. The kids would immediately run off, two little partners in crime.

Nanny and Antonio had grown rather closer, too. Instead of remaining a respectable distance from one another, they now walked and sat shoulder-to-shoulder. It looked like they would’ve known each other for years if you didn’t know them.

“I kid you not, dear, with his chalice full of wine-“ Antonio, giggled, retelling a story with animated gestures. Nanny was sat beside him, clutching their stomach and slapping Antonio’s knee as they laughed. Antonio loved making them laugh. He loved any noise they made for it was a symphony to his ears. Their laugh like a brass sections part, their giggle like the violins, and their cry like soft flutes. He cleared his throat before starting again, already waving his hands in the air. “- this fool drank it in one heaving gulp before looking at the empty chalice. He looked so furious, he was convinced someone had drank all his wine when he wasn’t paying attention.

He rounded everyone in the room —I’m serious I mean everyone — and forced them to be stripped to their undergarments so they weren’t ‘hiding his damn wine’.” Nanny began laughing harder to the point where they were crying yet no noise was coming out.

“Woo- I refuse-“ They had a quick fit of giggles before resuming. “- to believe anyone that idiotic has survived as far as that baboon had!” They laughed once more before quieting down, clutching their pained stomach.

“You and I both, darling,” Antonio smiled before redirecting their attention. “Do you need to care for the plants before we return back to the Manor?”

“Oh, shit!” They shot up and went to a nearby shed to gather all the tools needed to attend to the garden they had cultivated.

Antonio watched the Nanny in content, eyes closed as he basked in the sun and swayed to the humming of Nanny. His “second life” at the Manor wasn’t quite as bad with them around. The tall male continued to daydream before checking the time. His body complained as he stood, yet he ignored it anyways and stalked over to Nanny.

“My dear, I believe it is time to stop for today.” He spoke up, standing behind them. He extended a hand, waiting to help them up.

Nanny shot him a smile that made his heart hurt and fill his stomach with butterflies. They accepted his hand before clearing their throat, a slight blush on their face.

“Antonio,” His heart sung hearing them say his name. He would almost think he was in heaven if he hadn’t sold his soul. “I wanted to give you this…”

They trailed off, presenting a small cluster of light purple lilacs. Antonio just stood still, hoping this was not a dream. Nanny continued to get more red in the face waiting for his response.

“Can you put it next to the other one in my breast pocket, please?” He requested softly, a sincere smile on his face as he bent down a little giving them better access to the pocket that held a small, dead flower.

Nanny, still red as fire, shakily placed the flower in the pocket before brushing small specks of dust and dirt from the chest of the man in front of them. A finger suddenly hooked under their chin, forcing them to meet Antonio’s gaze.

He whispered their name, making their heart flutter even more. “May I kiss you?”

A moment of silence passed by before the Caretaker jumped up, wrapping their arms around the Violinists neck and pressing their lips to his.

He laughed into the kiss before wrapping their arms around their waist, spinning them around in joy.

For once, Antonio was in control of his choices. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[leiawritesstories]

Omgg Aelin and rowan fighting over a book and Rowan being all logical and practical like 'Aelin that's def no possible ' and Aelin's like 'um, yea it is idgaf'

Can u make this the title on the oneshot?

Facts or Fiction

is it bad that i saw this and immediately thought "smut..." 👀👀 here have a quick drabble that i whipped up between classes!!

word count: ~500

warnings: language, fictional smut

enjoy!

Facts or Fiction

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Holy shit," Aelin mumbled, completely absorbed in her novel, unable to tear her eyes away from the page. Where the protagonists had finally gotten over their bickering and were currently tangled up in bed. Very tangled up.

She screamed his name as his tongue flicked around that little cluster of nerves, feeling her body clench and relax all at once as she crested for the third time. And he hadn't even entered her yet--gods, this was lining up to be the best night of her mortal life.

"You alright there, love?" Rowan sauntered over to her side, glancing down at the book. And wheezing. "Fucking gods!"

"Problem?" She raised a brow without looking up, absorbed in the way the woman was screaming as she orgasmed.

For the third time in half an hour.

Rowan's hand rested heavily on her shoulder. "Not to burst your fantasy bubble, Fireheart, but that?" He chuckled softly, trying to hide the fire in his eyes. "Not possible."

"Oh?" She threw him a knowing little grin.

"There's a reason it's fantasy," he returned, though she heard his breath catch.

"And there's a reason so many women enjoy themselves a good smutty fantasy, babe," she snickered. "Who needs the internet when you've got a centuries-old faerie male with three lifetimes of sexual prowess to make the ladies scream?"

"Certainly gives you ideas, I'll admit." Rowan's voice was just the slightest bit raspy, the only hint of how affected he was by this little discussion. "But it's still not realistically plausible, love."

"Bullshit," she scoffed, "it's totally possible." She winked slowly, finishing the scene and closing the book so she could meet his dark, burning gaze with her own. "I know it personally."

"Fireheart," he groaned, head falling backwards. "You're a menace."

"And proud of it!" She beamed. "Three orgasms is completely plausible, darling."

"In half an hour?" He remained incredulous. "Something tells me your idea of time is a little off, my love."

"We'll see about that," she smirked.

"Oh?"

"Indeed." Tossing the fantasy romance aside, she stood, rounding the couch to slip herself into her boyfriend's space, her wicked, delighted eyes twinkling up at him. "Unless you don't think you're up to it, old man."

"Old man?" His voice dropped to a dangerous, dark octave. "Ill show you old man, love."

"Will you, now?" She fluttered her lashes.

"I'm gonna make you forget that book," he promised.

"Hmm." Her voice was airy. "I'm not convinced." Quick as a breeze, she dodged his grasp and fake-ran for the stairs, not even trying to escape when his muscled arms locked around her waist, heaving her over her shoulder before she had time to squeal. "Ro!"

"That's right, baby, keep saying my name," he purred, wasting absolutely no time in striding up the stairs, two at a time, and tossing her onto their bed. "Three times in half an hour?" His smirk was pure sin. "Why don't we break that record, hmm?"

She most definitely agreed.

~~~

TAGS:

@charlizeed

@cretaceous-therapod

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@nerdperson524

@fireheartwhitethorn4ever

@morganofthewildfire

@rowanaelinn

@wesupremeginger

@stardelia

@shanias-world

@mybloodrunsblue

@swankii-art-teacher

@wordsafterhours

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@violet-mermaid7

@holdthefrickup

@goddess-aelin

@rowaelinismyotp

@dealfea

@irondork

@elentiyawhitethorn

@live-the-fangirl-life

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@chronicchthonic14

@lovely-dove-zee

@sweet-but-stormy

@hanging-from-a-cliff

@jorjy-jo

@rowaelinrambling

@thegreyj

@silentquartz

@backtobl4ck

@throneofus7

@elizarikaallen

@llyncooljones

@booknerdproblems

[omegawhiskers]

DYNAMITE 1/11/23

DAMMIT, MAX!

Firstly, we need to address something here, and its Matt Taven’s wonderful giraffe hoodie. Maybe down the line, Taven, can use a kick, and call it the giraffe kick. Then we can get a Giraffe kick vs. Kangaroo kick match. These aren’t just beautiful fingers typing these words you know.

The big question of the night was, who will MJF choose as his tag team partners?

We had a surprise appearance from Adam Cole via virtual call. He thinks Max should pick Samoa Joe as his partner, but Max is fond of this idea. The Man in the Devil Mask would interrupt the broadcast as his presence was looming over the show. Since the attack on Jay White, has this masked individual done anything else besides pop up on our screens? He needs to do something a lot more threatening.

Orange Cassidy defended his International Title against Claudio Castagnoli in a great opening match. Claudio showed off his impressive strength throughout. At one point he put Orange into a chokehold and swung him around. Orange won with a beautiful hurricanrana. The celebration was short lived as Jon Moxley returned to give Cassidy a beating. This sets up Orange Cassidy vs. Jon Moxley at Full Gear, and it also looks like a feud between with Wheeler Yuta and Hook is starting.

The ROH World Six-Man Tag Team Championship’s were on the line as The Young Bucks/Adam Page defended against The Mogul Embassy. I really didn’t care for this match. I’ve said it before, the ROH titles should stay on Ring of Honor. I mean, I can’t even tell you who the other wrestlers were outside of Brian Cage. To my surprise, my prayers were answered. The belts are off the Bucks and Page, and the belts can return to the show where belong on. Page chased after Swerve Strickland as the two will meet at Full Gear. Matt was very upset after the loss and took it out on inanimate object's. Later on, The Bucks would take out their frustrations on Kenny Omega as they were not afraid to remind Omega of Jericho's past. Kenny as some work to do to get his friends and Jericho on the same page.

Daddy Magic/Cool Ange fought Jericho/Omega later on. Callis was on commentary with his family beh-WAIT, is that Kyle Flecher? Did I miss something? I thought Don kicked him out of the faction. Anyway, this match was short, so we could get to the meat of the story. In two weeks, it will be Kyle/Hobbs/Takeshita, taking on Jericho/Omega and…Paul Wright, in a Street Fight. I joked that it would be Wright last week, but I think he will work well in a Street Fight. I know some people will take issue with him being used, but I like when Paul is used like a beast.

Adam Copeland finally speared Christian Cage, after his former friend promised to snap his neck and leave him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. I still think Adam will come out of Full Gear as a heel, even though I didn’t expect him to lay his hands on Christian tonight.

Tony Khan makes rare appearance on TV to make another big announcement. It feels like these announcements are a bit excessive at this point. The reveal here is that AEW will be returning to the UK at Wembley Stadium next year. I didn’t get a chance this year to go , so I might just buy a ticket come December 1st.

Hikaru Shida defended her title in very good bout against Willow Nightingale. As I wrote previously, Shida had poor matches last week, and I’m glad to see her back on form. Julia Hart appeared post match to lure Willow, but Skye Blue came out and turned full heel, but it's a trick! She is actually a babyface. She misted Julia with the blue mist. Unfortunately she missed her face and her neck.

After some backstage segments, it's revealed that The Acclaimed will be MJF's partners against The Golden Elite. MJF wore Acclaimed inspired gear decked out with a pink burberry scarf. The match was about MJF getting his hands on White and getting his belt back, while Max Caster wanted to scissor MJF. I thought at this point, MJF would get his belt back, but lost when he was pinned by White. Post match, Caster took a title shot to the head from White as he pushed MJF out of the way. This led to a reluctant Maxwell scissoring The Acclaimed.

The show set up a few matches for Full Gear. Outside of that, you got the payoff with MJF teaming with The Acclaimed. I was expecting a bit more from this show, but I'll see where some of the stories end up before diving into any real major criticism.

[cannotfly]

@playboths sent: ART ISN’T ENTIRELY SURE THAT JOHANNA WILL LIKE HIS VALENTINE’S DAY GIFT. HE HOPES SHE DOES. HE’S been planning for it for months. Once the girls have gotten settled down and are comfortably chatting and playing in the parlor, he pulls her aside and into the ballroom. He’d chosen the ballroom on purpose. It was one of their favorite rooms in the house for more reasons than one, but he’d always felt like this was the center of the house. The amount of times they’d had indoor picnics while the girls rushed about playing tag and hide and seek was too many to count. And besides, it’s just a gorgeous room. “If you don’t like it,” he says as he guides her into the room, “I’ll understand.” He takes her hand and gives it a quick squeeze before he pushes one of the ballroom’s many curtains aside. There are three perches behind the curtain, and on each perch is a different bird. They all whistle as the curtain is moved aside and Art smiles a little. “I didn’t know which one you liked best, so I got all three.” He’d remembered her saying something about liking larks and nightingales and robins a long time ago and so he’d decided to get her one as a gift. And then he realized he couldn’t decide on just one, so he’d gotten all three.

his saint valentine's day surprise is coming later that evening . . . oh goodness, not like that! ( though, she wouldn't mind if, perhaps, it does end up like that . . . ) when she asked the staff to help her prepare for it, they'd told her to wait. when she protested, they told her to calm down. she never expected to be mistress over a staff who treated her as if she were family, including the requests to simply calm herself. but when johanna realizes where her husband is guiding her to, she understands the why. his surprise for her and she's already grinning.

none of them are caged. they are free to spread their wings, but tender enough to stay put. as johanna looks closer, she begins to wonder if they can fly at all. perhaps, they are the birds left behind by their mothers. they need a home. art didn't really give her the birds. he's giving her the opportunity to love them and give them everything they need.

❝ they'll fly around everywhere, ❞ she whispers, gentle hands slowly reaching out for the robin. it's hardly a complaint with all of the joy stuck in her throat. they'll get to fly around everywhere, unlike her childhood larks. if she is free, they deserve to be, too. safe. taken care of. when the robin reluctantly and wobbly steps onto her palm, she lets out a slight giggle. johanna looks over her shoulder, careful not to disturb the bird. a thank you is perched on her lips, yet she's speechless. ❝ how could you think i could possibly choose a favorite? ❞ the tease falls out instead. she doesn't think art will mind.

❝ they're all so beautiful and can you just imagine the girls playing with them? we'll have to be very gentle at first, but they'll be good friends---all of them. ❞ another laugh. ❝ you know me so well, mr. donaldson. ❞