#like on one hand we have the serious and more mature beyond my years

[ectoplasmer]

you guys ever grab your f/o’s face and just *forehead kiss* *forehead kiss* *forehead kiss* *forehea

[strangersteddierthings]

"I think we should break up," is what Eddie blurts the moment Steve opens the front door to reveal him.

Steve's first reaction is anger -how dare he?- but he doesn't do anything with that anger. Instead, he takes a deep breath through his nose, crosses his arms, and looks Eddie over.

He's breathing heavily yet his van is parked along the curb. He didn't run here. His hair, while never tame, looks rougher. He is fidgeting but in a nervous way, not his usual too much energy way. His eyes are wide and scared. It's the last bit there that drains Steve's anger.

Something's happened.

He drops his arms and says, "well, you're not dumping me on my porch. Get in here."

This doesn't seem like the response Eddie was expecting. Even though he has been looking at Steve this whole time he still manages to do a double take at him. Steve just shoves the door open a bit wider when he turns and heads back to the kitchen, where the dishes are not washing themselves because he doesn't have a dishwasher.

"I-I'm serious, Steve," Eddie is stammering behind him, which is good. Means he did follow. Steve hears the door shut and the shuffling sound of what he assumes is Eddie trying to pull off his combat boots without untying them, like the animal he is.

"Don't shout at me in my own home! Get in this kitchen," Steve shouts, then smiles and relishes in the offended huff Eddie lets out because Steve is the one shouting. Steve picks up the dish towel he'd deposited on the counter and throws it back over his shoulder, then get back to the dishes. There's just a couple bowls and a pot left, might as well get them done.

The sink is perpendicular to the doorway, so he watches Eddie slink into the small galley kitchen, stopping just inside the doorway to frown at Steve. "I'm breaking up with you and you're just, what, gonna wash dishes?"

"You're not breaking up with me, but yes. Look, one bowl down already. Just two more dishes."

"I- what. Yes, I am!"

"Edifer, you are 24 years old. That's much too old to just show up, yell 'we're over' at someone and run away. We're going to talk about this," he's not sure if it's the nickname, or the scolding parent voice he's put on, but it gets a huff of laughter from Eddie, and he counts it as a win.

"Alright, dad."

Steve grins, "I'll be dad if you be Daddy."

There's some sputtering from Eddie, and Steve gets the final dish done before Eddie says, "you can't just say that when I'm breaking up with you! That's- that's manipulative!"

He shrugs in response. "Seems fair. You're messing with my feelings; I'm messing with your feelings."

Those words freeze Eddie, and Steve can see him processing the words. Did Eddie really not consider that Steve had feelings involved? "I- that's... um."

He takes his time to unplug the sink, rinsing away the left-over bubbles before drying his hands and turning around. Eddie looks less wild and scared, now. More conflicted and uncertain. Which could be a good or bad thing. "Did you think you would just come over, break up with me, and I'd be, like, completely fine with it?"

"No," Eddie is quick to say, "Not completely fine but like, fine enough. It's- we've only been together for a month."

Steve frowns at that. He's not going to take offense to the 'only' added in there, because he's grown a lot over the last four years. He's mature now. "Sure, but beyond that, we've been friends since the world almost ended. I don't understand. I thought we were on the same page, here."

Eddie's fidgety again, in the bad way, pacing up and down the length of the kitchen. "What if this was a mistake?"

"What if it wasn't?"

That stops Eddie in his tracks, whipping around to look at Steve. "What if this goes bad? What if you meet someone else and they can give you everything I can't? What if-"

"Whoa, Eddie!" Steve shoves off the sink and gets to Eddie in two steps. His hands come up, hovering. He wants to touch, comfort, but... well, if he allowed to? "I- where's all this coming from?"

"Dustin and Suzie broke up!"

"What?"

"Dustin and Suzie broke up!! They were the forever couple! Perfect for each other! If they couldn't make it work, how am I supposed to be able to?"

Ah. The root of it. Eddie, afraid he's not good enough. Fuck it. Eddie can shove him off if he doesn't want Steve to touch him. He slides an arm around Eddie's waist, his other hand going up to caress his cheek before cupping it, a move he knows makes Eddie melt like cotton candy on the tongue. "Eddie, baby, we make it work by working on it. Not just giving up."

Eddie does melt into Steve, his own arms wrapping around Steve (probably against Eddie's will). "I- I don't know what I'm doing. I'm gonna fuck this up and you'll hate me, and everything will be ruined."

"Well, that's melodramatic."

Eddie glares at him even as he nuzzles into Steve's palm. "Rude."

"Baby, so long as you just talk to me, we'll be okay. Don't just show up and declare you're gonna break up with me. I think there's some steps we can take before it gets to that."

He watches Eddie swallow thickly before he nods his head. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

"So, we okay? You aren't gonna break my heart?"

Eddie whimpers at that, throwing himself forward to shove his face into Steve's neck. Steve settles his hand on the back of Eddie's head, idly scratching it while his other arm tightens its hold. When Eddie speaks, it's muffled and directly into his skin. "No. No breaking hearts."

"Hmm, good," Steve says, content to hold his boyfriend in his kitchen for however long Eddie wants to be held.

He'll call and check in on Dustin a bit later, too.

[jacevelaryonswife]

Hello bby, you know about my request: Soft/nsfw headcanons where my precious prince can no longer control his sexual attraction for a girl a few years older than him. I don't care if it's for Jacaerys or Modern!Jace, I leave it to your choice because I will love it the same way. Thank you <3

It's impossible, there's no chance of her reciprocating. I will never make it. That's what Jace thinks when he realizes the nature of the feelings he harbors for you. You, older, beautiful and well resolved. And he's just a college student with wealthy parents who's never been in a serious relationship to the point of imagining one with you.

You two met at the Targaryen foundation's annual dinner to collect clothing and toys for donation. You were a friend of a friend of Rhaenyra's, and although you interacted with a few people, you remained a somewhat distant part of the event in the hall of Viserys's manor.

It was the first time his eyes had widened more than normal when he saw someone. It was almost cliché, but a sudden, rapid shortness of breath came over him as he watched you looking at some of the paintings in his grandfather's collection. He had to talk to you.

Jacaerys is welcoming and friendly to everyone, you didn't know him or his family, but when he approached you with a warm smile — inwardly nervous — you couldn't help but return the gesture. "Hi, I'm Jace, is this your first time here?", he extended his hand to greet you.

Trying to impress you is almost an understatement, the Velaryon boy used everything beyond his reach to make a strong impression. It was a common Jacaerys attitude, but with you… it was more. He doesn't know why, but he needed to see your smile and hear your words all night long.

And you've never met a figure like him, so young but so smart, polite, adorable and mature — and handsome. Maybe it was the environment he had grown up in, or he was like that without outside influence, you don't know, but you found yourself involved and able to talk to him for the rest of the event.

And that's what happened.

Jacaerys, or Jace, was totally attracted to you. He didn't want to let you go without having your number or Instagram account to send you the profile of the contemporary artist of the moment — he couldn't come up with a better excuse, but it wasn't entirely a lie.

One thing a few more years guarantees is experience in these situations, the bright, expectant little eyes he wore as he waited for your answer gave it all away. He was interested in you. You looked at him affectionately, thinking of denying the sweet, after all he was starting to walk the steps you already walked.

But he was so thoughtful and cute that you couldn't say no.

And so you two started talking almost daily. At first about the arts, then about your routines and family and whatever subject you wanted to talk about. He was totally warmed up to you, needing to keep in touch or read up on old conversations. Soon your heart began to tingle as well as he thought of him. Thinking about it? You were surprised by this, but you couldn't keep the image of the sweet and friendly boy out of your mind.

The first date between you wasn't called a date, he didn't want to scare/push you off and vice versa. It was at a cool, hip bar where mostly adults and young adults hang out. It was… natural, very natural and good. It was a weekend and there wasn't anything pending that would hold you back the next day, so the hours weren't counted by you.

“That was so cool, really, we should totally do it again,” he said when you pulled into the parking lot. “Yes, it was really cool,” you agreed, smiling for the thousandth time all night. He couldn't wait any longer, nor did he want to. “I-I know this could screw things up, but I can't put it off any longer. I would like to kiss you. Kiss, really kiss, you know?" He was as nervous as he'd ever been before. Come on, he was good with girls, but you… you're an amazing woman. He could lose you forever for this. "I know." You laughed, "I know honey, you don't hide it as well as you think." Approaching him, you held his beautiful bright cheeks and kissed him.

Oh fuck. Fuck. He floated with the contact of your lips and held your waist to stay totally close to you. He didn't want to look like a teenager, but he didn't stop at putting his tongue in your mouth and kissing you as intensely as if he was afraid you'd disappear.

His lips were so good and soft and you just wanted him to keep squeezing your waist so well. "You're right, that was very good”, you agreed after walking away.

He hated what happened next, but it was so sudden that he couldn't control the moment that made him hard to hear your answer. He walked away a few inches not to get caught, but smiled almost nervously adding: "Yes, it was. Can we do this another day?"

"Of course we can, Jace."

And you do. You two go on more dates and keep talking to each other like teenagers in the flirting phase. When he started hanging out at your house, things got a little hotter. Kisses become more frequent and lasting and touches begin to appear. He loves to see you smile as he plants kisses on your neck and face, stroking your hair with his hand.

But then, as you two approach the next step he's never been this nervous before. He was no virgin, but he'd never done that with someone with higher expectations. You weren't some fool who would put up with bad sex, so he really puts in the effort. Not just that, but he wants so badly to see you without any layers of clothing on.

It's so sexy how you squeeze his hair as he kisses your breasts, stomach and thighs, way too dangerously far from where he's wanted to be since the first time your lips touched. “You’re nervous,” you said, “let me do it.”

You took his clothes off calmly, pushing him gently against the bed. He let out a husky moan as your hand slid gently onto his cock. He was so reactive. You pumped it a few times before riding him. His hands grip your waist as loud sounds escape his pink lips.

Your body is a feast that makes you want to taste more and more, he grips your breasts, your thighs and your waist, struggling to prop himself up on his elbows and reach your lips in an intense, breathless kiss.

He tried hard not to finish so quickly, and he was partially successful, but he couldn't hold back until you came. He felt terrible for feeling terrible at such a good time, but then you comforted him with a kiss on the forehead and wiped the thin layer of sweat that was on his forehead, only for him to gently turn you over, remove the condom and snake between your legs to make you come with your tongue on your pearl and your fingers inside your core.

“So… can we do this again?”, he asked with a goofy smile, making you snuggle into his chest.

“Mm, of course we do.”

[definitely-not-captain-america]

Spoilers for the first episode "Aang" of the live action ATLA under the cut. I'll always put spoilers under the cut so as to not ruin it for anyone who has a life and hasn't seen it yet

Content warning for depictions of fantasy violence and death.

I think the animated series starting with Katara and Sokka was a good choice, but I like this one starting with Aang in his original time. It's cool to see the air temples full of people, and Aang is better humanized beyond the "goofy 12 year old who never takes anything seriously," which is partly true but not fully accurate to his character.

The genocide happens so early on so it's impossible to not talk about that right away too. We literally watch firebenders burn airbenders alive, so there's that. I do have mixed feelings about the genocide. On the one hand, I think it's a little tasteless showing it, especially the amount of people who will watch it, sympathize with it, but then not do a thing to support the genocide in Palestine right now. At the same time, I think it's important to show it. It shouldn't be an easy topic, it's supposed to be devastating and horrifying and I think the scene was the right amount of graphic for that. Not to mention the allusion of Sozin killing those kids after he killed Gyatso.

Like others have said, I don't really agree with them cutting out Sokka's sexism. It was a major growth in character for him, and it's important to show young men growing up from things like sexism and maturing and apologizing after you're proven wrong. Still, the casting is incredible so far and all the actors definitely feel like their characters, so that's good too.

Onto Zuko and Iroh (I'm literally writing all this as I watch the episode). I see people say Zuko's scar should've been a lot uglier, for lack of a better word, and I agree. It's small, it doesn't look like it has much texture, and his eyebrow is still there. It's a burn scar, and burn scars never really look pretty in the nice, aesthetic way they made it in the live action. Of course, animated Zuko was always hot, but for the scar to be a point of shame that the audience can really understand, I think it should've looked worse. (Sorry for my brusque language. I don't mean to say that burn victims are ugly and horribly disfigured. Zuko's scar is just so far from a burn scar that it's mostly just aesthetic in the live action.)

Also, and it's so early in the show, but so far Iroh has a bit of a tough love thing going on and I kind of like it. We all love the gentle, tea-loving, proverb-using old man who probably-definitely committed war crimes but is now a big softie who regrets his actions, but I kinda like what may be happening here.

Their village in the South Pole is beautiful, and I'm glad they have more than just like 12 people living there. It's still obvious that all the men went off to war, and I always kinda hated how empty the village was. Plus, like I said, it's still really pretty, so we get to see how there was a culture there that's been somewhat lost.

I love Aang and Katara's conversation about them growing up fast. I think it's a little easy to forget how young everyone is in the animated series — everyone who's not Aang anyway, because even sixteen/seventeen is very young and we can forget that when everyone is drawn to be muscled and attractive and without any real baby fat.

I don't really like how Appa looks, but I typically hate all CGI animals because their fur always looks weird. He isn't terrible, it's just a serious case of uncanny valley for me so it's just not my thing.

I kinda like that Katara goes off to the ship on her own before Aang. We get her gentleness and a lot of her uncertainty, but we also see her conviction and the fact that she'll do whatever she wants if she believes it's for the right reason.

Right along those lines, I really love how evident Sokka's role as the child soldier/child leader is. Katara mentioned that he was told to watch the village since he was 13, and he's doing what he can. He has no idea what's right, he's just doing everything he can to hold things together and keep people safe. Aang calling him the bravest person he's ever met was so wonderful and exactly the validation Sokka needed to hear but probably never did. It also helped him come to his decision to help Aang, which was awesome.

I also love the reckless abandon we see with Zuko and the other firebenders. Sozin entered the Fire Nation into a world of divine right and basically the American Dream of conquering and doing whatever you want because they're in charge, they have the right, so they can. I also love the slight juxtaposition of Aang and Iroh's short encounter where Aang asks why the war was started. I just really like all the character interactions so far.

We also really get to see Zuko being young. His desperation when Aang escapes, the anger and fear he experiences. It's all very realistic and I'm glad we get more of that in this one.

I can't quite figure out if I like the costumes and the setting a lot. I don't like CGI heavy movies because they never look real or good to me, which is something I care about. I'm also not a good judge of whether CGI is good or not. I end up comparing everything to Narnia or Babe the Pig, both of which were pretty incredible, and nothing has been to those standards since.

In that same vein, I can't tell if I like the bending or not. It's not terrible, but the hand movements always look a little off to what ends up happening (which, I understand why, I just think it could been a little cleaner). Though that's probably just a byproduct of this being a live action, and the animated will always be better for bending. That earthbender in the beginning just took so long to earthbend, and I've always appreciated that earthbending is like, the heaviest and there's a lot more force that goes into it, but he was taking too long for me.

I 100% love this cast. So far they've all been very true to their characters while also being slightly new interpretations, which I like. I can't wait to see how they develop throughout the show, especially Katara, who I think goes through the most amount of growth in the show in a fairly short amount of time. Aang is still playful but also a bit more grown up, Sokka is still sarcastic but also focused on being a leader, Zuko is young and scared and angry and desperate to prove himself. I'm really happy with this actually, because it'll be easier for me to forgive the parts I don't like because these actors are so good.

That was very ramshackle and haphazardly thrown together. Oh well. This is starting out better than I expected and I'm excited for that.

[profoundbondfanfic]

Fourth day of more fic recs sent by our followers.

PART 4:

On the Scattering of Ashes by ricketyjukeboxer [Explicit, 29k words]

When the mother of a fallen army buddy passes away, Dean Winchester is called to fulfill a promise he made over a decade past. The task brings him to the childhood home of Marshall Hall, the best friend he lost in the war, and face to face with Cas Novak, the sergeant who saved his life. As they lay Marshall's mother to rest, Dean and Cas must confront their own romantic past cut short by the pain of loss and the guilt that comes with it. For the Destiel Modern AU Challenge. My prompts: A Quran salesman. Expired food. "I will remember this."

Pick It All Up by thepinupchemist [Explicit, 126k words]

Army veteran Castiel Novak is a wreck after his tour in Afghanistan, brought home to his brother's apartment in Lawrence, Kansas with scars both mental and physical. He copes poorly, and during one night of bad decision making, meets somebody just as much of a disaster as he is -- a prostitute named Dean Winchester. And suddenly, two damaged men might not be as irreparable as they believed.

Plain and Tall by destielpasta, mtothedestiel [Explicit, 69k words]

Dean is a Kansas farmer who only wants to work his land and care for his infant daughter. With his wife gone and his brother moving on to a life beyond the homestead, Dean finds himself in need of another pair of hands. Castiel, a lonely drifter freshly arrived in town, may prove the solution to Dean’s troubles. Over the course of four seasons, the two men face the everyday challenges of prairie life, and learn to overcome the betrayals of their past to discover a new definition of family.

Sea Green, Ocean Blue by Pimento [Mature, 16k words]

Dean Winchester likes his simple life. His biggest problems are catching the perfect wave, balancing his love of pie with his need for insulin and being so secretive and vague about his writing career that almost everyone he knows assumes he writes porn, not beautifully illustrated fairy tales for children. He thinks only his best friend/literary agent Charlie and her wife know just what a sappy romantic dork he is, but his over-protective brother and his friends and family know him far better than he realises. So when it looks as though his knight in shining armour might actually be something else entirely he has allies aplenty.

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles [Mature, 53k words]

Dean is three years sober when Cas comes back into town. For a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean, once again, has to swallow the urge to offer to swallow something else. It's very hard to resist the gut-wrenching pull of want that hooks in his chest whenever he looks at Cas. And to think, he used to have him, used to be able to act on that want. God, he's so fucking stupid. Well, there's no point in kicking himself three years later for shit he can't change. He'll just sit right here and pretend that his fingers aren't twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He can't do that anymore, and it's his own damn fault. "Three years ago," Cas prompts. Dean huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Eventful."

Stay With Me, Sweetheart by MandalaRose [Explicit, 142k words]

“Alright Cas, here comes the hard part. We’re gonna get you out of here, but we’ve gotta take the roof off and while we do that, we’re gonna have to cover you with a sheet to protect you from the glass. I’ll be right here though. I’m not going anywhere.” As he starts to drift away, he suddenly feels the press of Dean’s forehead against his own through the rough fabric and hears that warm, sunlit voice murmer quietly in his ear, too low to be overheard by the firefighters currently working to remove the SUV’s roof, “Stay with me, Sweetheart.” A single moment's distraction ends with a serious car accident that leaves Castiel trapped in his vehicle. Fortunately for him, fire fighter Dean Winchester is there, never leaving Castiel's side as the rest of his company work to free him from the mangled remains of his SUV. When the two meet again in the ICU, Castiel finds himself just as drawn to and comforted by the handsome fireman as he was during his accident. Dean is certainly attractive, but single father Castiel doesn't have time or space in his life for a romantic relationship. Then again, there's no harm in making a new friend, is there?

Stitches by Askance (doomcountry) [Teen, 23k words]

Castiel survived Leviathan--but only barely. Vessel mauled and eyes destroyed, Cas is barely clinging to what's left of his grace when Dean finds him naked and alone on the reservoir's edge; in a panic, Dean brings him home to the cabin where he and Sam have been holed up off the grid. What follows is the slow process of the angel's recovery and the unexpected changes that come with his being blind, and in the three months this takes, their little family slowly begins to patch itself back together in forgiveness, love, and darkness.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 5]

[bluestar22x]

Second Chance Proposal

Second Chances (Part 5): Second Chance Proposal

Summary: Marcus has questions to ask both Missy and Elena - Marcus POV

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x OFC!Elena

Rating: 18+ series, 13+ rated chapter

Warnings: Fluffy fluff fluff

Word Count: 2,045

Author’s Note: We all know Missy’s the boss here but at least she’s a sweet one. I hope everyone who reads likes this one. I kinda had a rough go here.

xxx

Series Masterlist

xxx

He’d been thinking about it for a while, a couple months before he bought the delicate diamond ring hidden in his sock drawer and another month since then. Marcus had been dating Elena for almost ten months and he wanted more. He wanted to commit to her in the most official way he could. To put it simply, he wanted to marry her, and he was pretty sure if he asked she would say yes. He knew what it felt like to be loved like that (and wasn’t he lucky to experience it twice?).  

The only reason he hesitated was because of Missy. Getting engaged to Elena and asking her to move into the house wouldn’t just be an adjustment for him, it would also, arguably, be an even bigger adjustment for Missy. Missy and Elena adored each other but hanging out a few times a week was different than living with each other. The implications behind Elena becoming her stepmother were not trifle either.

So Marcus had sat on the ring and the big question for a while. But as Elena’s birthday neared, he got more conscious of it, like it was burning a hole in his drawer. Proposing to her on her thirty-third birthday would be too good of an opportunity for his romantic heart to pass up. But he knew the only way he’d get the courage to do it was if he talked to Missy about it first.

It was on the first of August, ten days before Elena’s birthday, after a Taco Tuesday supper, that Marcus sat down at the kitchen table beside Missy, who was busy reading a biography her English teacher had forced upon her class over the summer, and tried to figure out how best to start up the conversation.

Missy was bothered by his looming presence long before he could. She peered up from the book and raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“I have something…hypothetical to ask you,” he told her, letting the fingers of his right hand tap on the tabletop.

“Shoot.”

“Hypothetically, if I got married to Elena, would you be okay with that?” he inquired.

Missy’s eyes lit up. “You’re thinking of proposing to Miss Elena?”

Marcus was surprised by her excitement. “Yeah, I am. But I wanted to make sure you’d be okay with it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, beaming. “She’s great, and that’s an understatement.”

“I just thought,” Marcus paused, hesitated, “I just thought you’d feel like I was trying to replace your mom, and that’s not my intention.”

Missy rolled her eyes. “I’m not a little kid anymore Dad. I’m thirteen years old. And I’m the one who encouraged you to date her, remember? It’s cool. If I’m going to have a stepmother, she’d be my first choice.”

Marcus relaxed into his seat. He should have known Missy would be mature about this. She was wise beyond her years.

“I just have one condition,” Missy decided after a moment of contemplation.

Marcus arched both his brows. “Oh?” He had no idea what to expect.

“That I’m there,” she said, pointing to herself. “I’ve had a hand in this from the beginning after all.”

He chuckled, glad the condition wasn’t too serious, and lifted his hands up, feigning defeat. “Alright. Alright. I can work with that. Have you got any ideas how I should go about it?”

She sighed heavily and stared at him. “Do I have to do everything for you?”

He laughed harder. “I have some ideas!” he protested. “I just want to hear yours too.”

“Well then,” Missy mused, “I’ll finish this chapter and then we can talk. Deal?”

“Deal.”

They shook hands and he smiled at her as she returned to her assignment. He was lucky in so many ways.

X

Everything was perfect, or as perfect as it could get. Marcus had reserved a table at a semiformal rooftop restaurant in the center of the city and planned with Missy what he would wear (tan slacks with a button-down navy blue shirt) and what he’d do leading up to the big question. She’d suggested a vase of Elena’s favorite flowers (African Violets) for on top of the table and the restaurant owner had been more than willing to set it up for him after finding out his plans. They’d made other accommodations he hadn’t expected as well, one being that their table was in a more secluded spot, away from prying eyes, since he knew Elena wasn’t the type for big public announcements. She preferred inmate things. It had been easy for the restaurant staff to set it up with Elena’s birthday being on a Wednesday. The restaurant wouldn’t be jam packed like it was on the weekend.

Elena by coincidence matched Marcus that night, wearing a recently bought navy blue summer dress with white floral designs to the restaurant, while Missy had picked out a cute little white dress with laced edges, despite her declaration that she was NOT a lacy dress girl (she was making an exception for the occasion). Anita might have had something to do with that. Actually, Marcus was pretty sure she did. No one could say no to his mother.

The weather had been the most unpredictable thing in the entire plan, but that was why he’d picked a restaurant that still had an overhang to cover the outdoor dining area. He needn’t have worried though, the sky that night was clear, and as they finished their meals of steak, chicken, and salad, they were witnesses to the start of a beautiful sunset, several shades of orange light streaking through a few fluffy white clouds over the hills that surrounded the city to the west.

“Sometimes I forget how beautiful this city can be,” Elena had murmured, eyes staring into the distance in an almost dream like manner as they waited for dessert.

With her distracted, Marcus decided it was the perfect moment, and he signaled for Missy to excuse herself from the table to go get their unknowing accomplice to his staged proposal (Missy’s idea).

She quickly returned with a petite red long coated Chihuahua in her arms, grinning widely. “Look who I found.”

Elena twisted around to face her and lit up with surprise. “Ginger! How’d you get her in here?”

“The restaurant owner was nice enough to give us special permission,” Marcus explained. “And your neighbor Jamie was beyond willing to bring her over when I asked her to.”

He was pretty sure Jamie had a crush on him, even though she knew he and Elena were dating. When he’d shown up at her door she’d recognized him right away, because of his occasional speeches that were broadcasted on the news channels and the picture on the shelf in Elena’s living room. She had babbled a bit about how great he and the rest of the Heroics were before agreeing to drop Ginger off at the restaurant at eight o’clock, no questions asked. He got the sense she’d probably guessed what he was planning by the way he was acting (nervous), but luckily didn’t seem to care. When you were famous, whether you be an actor or a singer or a heroic, most fans thankfully tended to be that way.

Missy handed Ginger over to Elena and the dog licked her owner on the neck, exposing her own and revealing the black box that was taped to her green collar.

“What’s this?” Elena frowned, peeling the tape off and cradling the tiny black box in the palm of her hand.

“Open it!” Missy exclaimed, not being able to contain herself.

Marcus wasn’t sure if Elena had her suspicions at that point or not, but she still looked shocked enough when she snapped the lid open and the diamond engagement ring sparkled at her.

She covered her mouth with one hand and stared over at Marcus with wide eyes. He was already sliding down onto one knee in front of her.

“Will you marry me, Elena?” he inquired, his breath a little shaky. He’d done this before, and he was pretty sure he’d get another yes, but that didn’t make him a confident man. Not when it came to moments where he had to put his heart on the line.

Elena’s eyes were glistening a bit when she nodded. “Of course I will Marcus!”

He felt all his tension disappear at the words and he grinned at her, warmth flooding his chest. At the sight of his joy, she placed the open box with the ring still inside on the table and let Ginger down gently on the floor before throwing her hands around his neck gleefully. When she pulled away slightly it was to cup one hand on the back of his head and pull him in for a long, sweet kiss. She didn’t let him go until Missy cleared her throat.

“Sorry,” Elena said, blushing as she glanced up at her.

“Don’t mind me,” Missy told her. “I just have something for you too.”

Marcus grinned again, remembering what Missy had picked out last week at the jewelry store five minutes from their house.

“Oh?” Elena pushed herself back onto her feet and Marcus followed suit.

Missy dug into a sneaky little pocket in her dress (Marcus hadn’t known dresses with pockets existed until she had shown him it) and handed a black box - slightly bigger than the first - to Elena, who was surprised for a second time that night.

“Now what’s this?” she asked, a smile playing on her lips.

“You have to look for yourself to find out,” Missy declared, gesturing for her to do so.

Elena lifted the lid up and plucked a silver bracelet out of it, examining it. “This looks like your bracelet,” she observed.

Missy gave her a curt nod and raised her arm to show off hers. “That’s because it is an identical one. I figured if you were going to marry my dad you should have one too. That way we can all communicate quickly if there is ever an emergency.”

Elena looked touched by Missy’s consideration for her. “You came up with that all by yourself?”

“She did,” Marcus confirmed. He was proud of his daughter for coming up with it first. He’d only bought Missy her bracelet after Reina had died, and he regretted not getting it before. It had been useful more than once, especially during times when carrying a phone around wasn’t convenient.

“Can I hug you Missy?” Elena inquired quietly, eyes brimming with tears.

“Sure,” she answered, flashing her a smile.

Elena leaned down and they embraced, Missy tucking her face into her hair and squeezing her tight. “I’m glad you said yes.”

Elena pulled away to look her at her face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Missy parroted, a glint in her eyes. “You’re too nice to become an evil stepmother.”

Elena snorted. “We’ll see how you feel about me a year from now.”

Missy appeared a bit horrified by the suggestion, mind probably wondering about what Elena could have planned, but she relaxed again as soon as she saw her lips quirk upward. “Ha. Ha. Good one.”

Elena winked at her and dropped down to sweep Ginger back into her arms, kissing her on the top of her head. “They even included you in this conspiracy, huh?”

Marcus laughed. “Missy’s idea.”

“Of course,” Elena said. “She probably agreed to this for Ginger.”

“She is a benefit,” Missy agreed. “So, when are you moving in with us?”

Judging by her face it was clear Elena hadn’t considered that part of the equation yet, but she didn’t look the least bit hesitant or concerned about it. “Anytime, really. Are you two ready for me to move in?”

Marcus and Missy both nodded at once and she beamed at them. “Alright then. I’ll start packing and moving things over this weekend. It’ll take a month to get out of my contract with my landlord, but that doesn’t mean I can’t move in sooner, as long as you’re good with that.” She met Missy’s eyes again.

“It is,” Missy promised her.

Marcus felt his mouth pull upward at that, grateful as ever that Missy was who she was. He wouldn’t have had this second chance without her.

[babyjakes]

forever and a day | 31. betrayal.

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summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). action and fight scenes with violence and killing. injuries/mild gore. mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of child abuse/neglect, past CSA and CSM, and their aftermath (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). medical abuse and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.trauma-informed therapeutic treatment of ECT. evil!Tony Stark.

[Steve]

“Mornin’, Cap,” Clint greets as I step off the elevator into the common space of the fiftieth floor, startling me enough to make me jump. On a typical morning when I come home from my early-morning runs, no one else is awake. Glancing at my watch, I see that it’s just about 7:00, which is a little bit later than when I usually return. Even still, Clint’s never been an early riser.

“What’re you doing up this early?” I ask as I join him in the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water.

“I’m not sure. Guess I didn’t sleep too great,” the archer admits as I take a few sips from my glass.

“Anyone else up?” I question. He takes a bite of the apple in his hand and shakes his head.

“Nope. Pretty sure everyone’s asleep. Except for Tony; he’s down in his lab. But what’s new, I suppose.” I nod, understanding. It isn’t unusual for Tony to spend all night down working on his gadgets. The rest of us know it’s probably not good for him, but we also know that there’s no stopping him. He’s just wired that way. And as long as it’s not hurting anyone else, we keep quiet about it.

“I’m gonna go see if Willa’s up,” I decide, finishing what’s left in my glass before placing it in the sink and looking out through the window onto the balcony. It seems like a nice day out; maybe it would be a good idea to take Willa outside later. We could go to the park or something. I’ve been meaning to get her out and about more lately, since Bruce says the sunshine’s good for her.

“Hey, have you thought any more about the Accords?” Clint asks just as I’m about to leave the kitchen. I pause, turning back to face him. A serious look has formed on his face.

“I think I’ve made up my mind. As much as it’s going to complicate things, I can’t sign. It just doesn’t feel right,” I assert.

“I’m with you,” the man nods. “And it’s not just us. After you left last night, the conversation went on for quite some time. Bucky’s against it. Sam, too. Even Wanda, though I think she feels a lot of pressure coming from Tony.”

“She’s just a kid,” I sigh as I shake my head. “I don’t know why she has to be involved in this. Peter, too. And what? Are they going to want Willa to sign, because of her powers?”

“That… wasn’t discussed,” Clint replies slowly. “Maybe you’d have to sign on her behalf. Vienna’s in three days; I don’t know how it’ll look if half of us don’t show up. Or, if we all show up, but only half of us will sign.”

“I guess we’ll see,” I shrug, earning a nod from my friend. Not knowing what else could be said about the situation, I turn to leave the kitchen without another word, heading to the bedrooms.

As I walk towards the end of the hall, all of the doors are closed except for mine, Clint’s, and Tony’s. Stopping in front of Willa’s door, I knock lightly before turning the knob and swinging it open. When I step inside, the sight I’m met with causes my stomach to drop.

Willa’s bed is empty.

I glance around the room frantically, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Quickly making my way over to the bathroom door, I push it open. It’s vacant as well. The light is off, but the sunlight coming in from the window by the sink illuminates the room enough for me to see that I’m completely alone. Willa is gone.

Turning around, I make my way back through the bedroom and out into the hallway, double-checking every room again as I pass it to make sure that there are no lights on shining through from underneath the doors. Everyone is asleep. She couldn’t be playing with Wanda, or watching movies with Peter. Which means… she’s not on the fiftieth floor at all.

As I enter back into the living space, my heart pounds heavily in my chest, ringing all the way up through my ears. Clint glances up at me from the newspaper he’s begun to read, immediately seeing the look of panic on my face. “She’s gone,” I mutter breathlessly. “Willa’s gone.”

“She’s not in her room?” Clint asks, concern growing on his face. I shake my head, walking over to the elevator and hitting the button.

“I’m gonna go ask Stark if he’s seen her,” I tell him. “Vision’s probably down there with him. Maybe he can scan the building or something.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” the worried man asks, setting his newspaper down on the counter.

“That’s okay. I’ll text you if I need any help,” I decline. Clint nods.

Soon, the elevator arrives, and I step in, hitting the button for L45. The ride down only takes a few moments before the doors open again to the hallway outside of Tony’s lab. This is a floor I rarely visit, as I really have no reason to. The training facilities are much more useful to me; all this strange, futuristic technology is Tony’s domain.

The walls of the hall are made of glass, making it possible to see right into the scientist’s workspace. I walk over to the large glass door and look in to see the man standing in front of some sort of table, tapping a monitor hanging on the wall. My breath catches in my throat when I see two little feet squirming at the end of the surface Tony is blocking, appearing to be restrained at the ankles.

“Alright kid, looks like you did it. I can’t believe I just snapped my wrist in half for the sake of science, but luckily you pulled through on your end of the bargain,” I hear Tony chattering casually as I burst through the door loudly, causing him to look up in alarm.

“What the hell is going on in here?” I demand harshly. Taking a few more steps forward, I’m now able to get a better view of the setup before me. Willa is strapped down by her arms and legs to a metal table, a thin pillow supporting her head. Tony has her hooked up to several wires that are all connected to the monitor he’s working with; it seems to show her heartbeat, along with a few other measurements that I can’t identify.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Tony says lowly, taking a step towards me, away from the child. I can hear her whimpering, though softly, and it sends anger shooting up through my veins, collecting in my fists as they curl dangerously tight.

“Neither should she,” I retort, nodding at Willa. “What are you doing to her? Why is she wired up like that? What is she- oh god, Tony- she’s crying,” I seethe, my heart breaking as I watch tears trail down the little girl’s cheeks, dripping onto the cold metal beneath her.

“I’m doing the research you weren’t willing to do,” Tony spits, his eyes narrowed in anger. “She’s an enhanced individual, Cap. It’s not my suits, it’s not even the super-soldier serum; this is something completely foreign. And we gotta know what it is, how it works.”

“This isn’t the way to find out,” I disagree, shaking my head. “We promised her we wouldn’t do this!”

“No, you promised her,” he corrects. “I, on the other hand, am being responsible and finding out exactly what we’re dealing with here. It’s not just me who wants to know. I’m going before a UN panel in three days and giving them detailed reports on each of us, and the kid’s a complete wildcard. That’s not gonna sit well with anyone in Vienna.”

I take another few steps forward, now only feet away from the table. “What are you doing to her?” I ask, my voice now quiet, almost a whisper. “Why is she tied down? Why is she crying?” Willa whimpers as I draw nearer, her watery eyes so full of fear and despair.

“I’m finding out more about her healing capabilities. The reports were right; she can heal seemingly anything. I just cracked my wrist straight down the middle with a vice. All I had to do was lay a hand on her and it patched up immediately.” The anger in my stomach rises into my throat, and I let out a scalding-hot breath, turning to Tony. I’m nearly shaking in rage.

“You shifted her?”

“Well, yeah. It took a little while to figure out how, but it turns out when you inject her with-”

“For the love of god, Tony, you know she takes on the pain of whatever she heals!” I explode, the edges of my vision blurring to red. Willa lets out a frightened cry at my sudden outburst, and at the simple sound of the sobbing child’s whimper, it’s as if a switch is flipped in my brain; all anger is shoved back down my throat as my paternal instincts take over.

Turning to the table, I step up to the sniffling girl, beginning to release her from her restraints. Starting at her ankles, I carefully undo the nylon bonds, murmuring softly to the poor thing as she quakes in fear. “Shhh, it’s alright,” I hum. “Gonna get you out of here, Willa-bug. No more, sweetheart. All done, it’s all done, I promise.”

Tony reaches out to stop me, but I glare at him, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Another move, and I’ll call Child Services, right here, right now. Human experimentation will be more than valid grounds for your parental rights to be removed,” I threaten.

The scientist huffs in anger, but retracts his hand, crossing his arms and turning away. Now that I’ve caught him, he knows he’s lost. Clearly, he was counting on me not finding out.

As I finish undoing the final strap on Willa’s arm, I glance over the wires connected to her arm. Most of them are just secured by adhesive tabs. Only one appears to be a catheter breaching her skin. Looking around, I spot a roll of medical tape and cotton balls on a tray not too far from Tony. I grab the materials and tear off a piece of tape, forming a make-shift bandage before turning back to Willa.

Sobbing quietly to herself, the child rolls slightly on her side and curls into a ball as I approach her, her bright green eyes wide with fear. “Please, n-no more,” she begs, scooting herself as far away from me as she can.

“Shh doll, it’s okay. You’re okay, sweetheart. It’s me; it’s just Steve,” I ease gently, holding out the bandage and reaching for her arm. Willa flinches back, cradling it away from me warily. With a closer look, I see that the wrist on that arm has turned a deep mix of blue and purple, signifying the pain she’s been dealt from Tony’s trial.

“N-no touch, h-hurts, please,” the girl begs, trembling against the cold metal table.

“I just wanna take the needle out, okay? You can unshift then; I promise I won’t hurt you.” Tony sighs from beside me in annoyance, but I ignore him, too focused on Willa to care about his attitude.

“For fuck’s sake, Cap, you’re not gonna get anywhere if you keep treating her like a toddler,” the man groans, turning and ripping the tube out of the child’s arm with little care. Willa cries out in pain, and Tony snatches the bandage from my hand before I can stop him, slapping it down against her arm. He pulls away at the other tubes and they all disconnect from their tabs without much resistance.

“Back up,” I order firmly, not wanting him to lay another finger on my Willa. Tony rolls his eyes but luckily obliges as I step in between him and the little girl, not wanting him to cause any more damage than he already has.

Willa peers up at me, her hurt and betrayal written all over her face. When I reach out my arms to pick her up, she shrinks back, her bottom lip sticking out and quivering, signaling a whole new round of tears is on its way. “Please n-no, don’t hurt me,” she whimpers.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I’m just gonna get you out of here. It’s alright, I don’t have any injuries on me; it won’t hurt when I touch you,” I assure her, though I know it’s probably doing little to ease her fears. “I’m gonna pick you up now, Willa. It’s okay, nothing’s gonna hurt.” As gently as I can, I wrap my arms around the shaking girl, pulling her in close to me and rubbing her back soothingly in hopes of calming her down. She tenses up as my skin makes contact with hers, letting out a frightened whine. “You’re okay, see?” I coo, bouncing her slightly in my arms. “No hurt.”

“N-no hurt, please,” she hiccups back. I smile sadly at her with a nod, brushing her hair back out of her face.

Turning back to Tony, my expression returns to serious as I inform him, “This is never happening again.”

“Whatever. Son of a bitch,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he walks back over to his desk, making himself seem too occupied to care.

I sigh, looking down at the little girl in my arms. “Let’s get you out of here, Willa-bug,” I murmur, holding her close to me as I walk back over to the glass door. A part of me expects Tony to come after us as I push the door open, stepping through it, but he doesn’t, and I’m relieved. I don’t have any more energy to put up with his behavior. He’s gone way too far. If he pushed me any more, I honestly don’t know what I would do.

Out in the hallway, we wait for the elevator after I’ve pushed the button. Within a few moments, it arrives, and I step in, hitting the button for the fiftieth level.

“Does your wrist still hurt?” I ask softly as the elevator rises. Willa nods, cradling her arm close to her as she hides her head away in the crook of my neck.

“Please, d-don’t touch it; don’t hurt me, p-please,” she begs.

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay, I won’t touch it,” I soothe quietly, bouncing the small child slightly on my hip. When we arrive on the top floor, the doors in front of us slide open to reveal an empty common space; Clint must’ve gone somewhere, maybe back to bed. Walking Willa over to the couches, I sit down in an armchair, resting the girl down on my lap. “Willa, honey… how long were you with Tony?” I ask carefully, brushing her hair back out of her face.

“D-don’t r'member,” she replies quietly. “He woke me up and- and took me there. Didn’t know where y-you were- was s-so scared,” she whimpers.

“Oh Willa,” I sigh, my heart aching as I plant a kiss on her forehead. “It’s okay, honey. I’m here now; I won’t ever let him do that to you again, okay?” Willa looks up at me with wide eyes, and in this moment it becomes clear to me just how devastating it was that I wasn’t there, that I didn’t protect her.

“B-begged for you,” the child mumbles. “He said- s-said you were s'eeping.”

“Willa, oh- sweetheart,” I choke through tears, cradling the girl’s cheek in a shaking hand as she looks up at me with tear-filled eyes. “Willa, baby, I- I’m so sorry,” my voice cracks. “If I knew what he was doing, I- I would’ve stopped him, Willa, I swear. No matter what, even in the middle of the night, I would’ve come. I would’ve saved you.” Willa clings to me with her undamaged arm, a fresh tear slipping down her cheek. I wipe it away gently with my thumb, holding her close to me. “I never thought he would do something like this. But now I know, sweetheart. And I won’t let him hurt you again, okay? I promise; I pinky promise.”

I reach my pinky out to her hopefully, my heart swelling when she links her own with mine.

“Can I see your wrist, doll? I promise I won’t hurt it,” I try. The girl pulls her shaking arm to her body tightly, a look of uncertainty washing over her soft features.

“No, d-don’t hurt me,” she pleads.

Sighing, I don’t push her on it. “Okay. Okay, doll. That’s okay, I’ll leave it alone,” I concede.

As the small child sits quietly on my lap, I take a deep breath, trying to ground myself enough to think of what I should do next. After several minutes of contemplating, I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, dialing Bruce’s number and hitting ‘call.’

It rings two or three times before he answers, sounding tired. “Yeah, Cap?”

“Hey, sorry to wake you. I need- I need you to come out here. We have a call to make.”

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[livia-dovehallow]

Hi! So this is a bit more mature ask

I know tid is directed to teens and actually it touches serious stuff but doesnt go deeper in them, one thing that striked me was how little attention was made to Cecily having an alcoholic father

As someone who know how that goes it isnt pretty. I wanted to ask you how do you think those years were.

For me I think Edmund minght have come home drunk many times, sometimes maybe he didnt even make it out the living room or collapsed somewhere, given that Linette was said to be grieving and basically absent, I guess it was Cecily who had to take care of him , putting a cushion in his head so he didnt drown himself

Do you think Edmund ever shouted at Cecily? Or directed some bad words to her in that alcoholic gaze?

I think for Cecily it must have been hard apart from the situation, seeing how much they grieve the daughter that died and the son that left but when she left they didnt go, and when she was with them they didnt pay her attention

I can see them sadly one of them forgetting her birthday or Edmund in one of his bad days offering her to drink too

I just wanted to talk about this subject, I know is more mature but these things happen and a part of me wished it got addresed how this changed Cecily

I have thought about this a lot, too!

tw: alcoholism; depression; suicidal thoughts

I don't have an alcoholic parent, so I can't relate personally in that specific way with Cecily (my parents don't drink at all, actually). I do have diagnosed clinical depression, though.

BUT, I did have an alcoholic ex boyfriend. And, shit, I'll tell you, that is one of the most emotionally and mentally exhausting and isolating experiences I've ever had. Especially since he wouldn't admit he was one. And I consider myself lucky because he wasn't physically abusive at all.

So when I think about Cecily, my heart hurts for her, because there is no way she isn't severely depressed.

I imagine that Linette was much like Violet Bridgerton (if you've ever seen Bridgerton). Physically present but emotionally and mentally absent. Cecily was fed and had clothes to wear, but beyond that, really had no mother.

Then there's Edmund, a drunk and compulsive gambler. I definitely agree with you that there were probably plenty of nights where Cecily had to be the one to care for her father. This is a sad parallel I see between her and Alastair Carstairs. (I think she would have really felt for him and if we had more books to explore these themes, I would have been so interested to see Cecily reach out to Alastair about it because she knows too well what it's like).

You also bring up some good (well, not good, but you know what I mean) points about if Edmund ever shouted at her or that her parents forgot her birthday. Unfortunately, I totally see both of these things having happened to her.

I think that Edmund probably shouted or said some unkind words to her when she had to take care of him and that developed Cecily's very guarded personality in terms of not letting anyone see her get emotional. We kind of see hints of this when Will shouts or argues with her in CP2 and she either just goes blank or gets really angry back, almost explosive.

As far as the forgotten birthday, I think this goes hand-in-hand with your other point about how Edmund and Linette heavily grieved Ella and Will to the point where they went to London to get him back, but it was radio silence from them when she went to London. They didn't try to get her back. And she told them where she was going, too.

For those five years, she was abanonded emotionally and mentally. Then when she went to London, abanonded physically when they didn't come for her, too.

Plus, she spends a lot of time alone in the Institute. Will is constantly mad that she's there, and for weeks, everyone pairs off every time a gathering ends and she's left alone. (When they returned from Chiswick and in her POV it literally says she was left to climb the stairs alone).

Cecily has one of the most traumatic and depressing backstories of any character in TSC (including Will!). We don't see any of it.

I am entirely convinced that all of these experiences add up to some non-canon but highly probably truths about Cecily:

The slightest whiff of alcohol gives her anxiety.

She hates her birthday or at least doesn't look forward to it.

Resents her siblings to some level (not intentionally, but when you've spent years watching your parents grieve your siblings while simultaneously not give two shits about you, you start to resent some people).

Heavily mourns the childhood she used to have.

Has major abandonment issues in virtually any sense (being ignored, physically left alone, emotions disregarded, etc).

Probably considered ending her life on several occasions throughout the years (it's very dark but truthfully would not blame her if she did).

All of these have created some headcanons for me in terms of Cecily and how some of things either go away or change over time given that she's no longer alone.

When he learns about her father's vices, Gabriel swears off drinking entirely. Never drinks again. And if they're in a room with alcohol (aka she smells it), Gabriel doesn't leave her side.

Will remembers her birthday and puts in effort to celebrate it with her (probably unknowing that their parents forgot it almost every year). I doubt she ever tells Will about that (she might tell Gabriel).

Her abandonment issues never truly go away and she panics when someone is supposed to be somewhere with her and they aren't there or they're late because she immediately thinks the worst. (Stems into a related headcanon where Gabriel leaves her notes if he is going to be somewhere without her and he has to leave before she's awake or she's busy doing something else so that she knows exactly where he is and why).

This is not meant to say that Gabriel saves her in any way but more like emphasizing that Gabriel is also her best friend, not just her romantic partner, so they learn each other's fears at a very detailed and practical level and adjust their behaviors to ensure that each other are comfortable in their relationship and maintain very strong trust between them. (I could go on a whole other rant about Gabriel's side of this, but this post is about Cecily, so I shall focus on her).

I think eventually Cecily does tell Will about everything that happened while he was gone and he definitely feels extremely guilty about it and over-compensates sometimes (like on her birthday). But I am not sure if she would ever tell him if she was suicidal--I think it's years before she even tells Gabriel about it.

It's themes like this that make me wonder how much more we would know about Cecily in canon if TID had been written for an older audience than YA.

What do you think? Agree? Disagree? Both?

[sentimentalscientia]

"Siblings tease each other all the time. S'what kids do." That had been Kelly's experience anyway. He'd grown up with four siblings, teasing had been a given and sometimes it had gone too far, sure, but things had always worked themselves out. He couldn't remember his parents ever being exceptionally worried about it, either.

Maybe worrying was just who Itsuki was. Kinda made Kelly wonder if he was married. Then he'd have someone to help take the mental load off.

Well now Kelly was curious what kind of spell could do that. Something to ask Leslie when he got back home. In any case, "How many times have people actually changed when you've done that? Seems like it would be easier to just... magically castrate them."

He shook his head. "Some bells can't be unrung, no matter how one chooses to look at the world. I won't ever be whole." Said as matter-of-factly as Itsuki had been just moments ago. "Your people believe in fate? Mine do. And we understand that fighting it is like trying to fight gravity: pointless, frustrating, and impossible."

“Well yes. The teasing is a natural part of family life. But she…..she frankly torments him at times. An unfortunate inheritance from her grandmother. Her great grandmother is one of the sweetest beings. As is her adoptive grandmother. The biological grandmother? Well to put it bluntly she is one of the only women I have ever punched. Cruel beyond measure. Being a minor goddess seems to have given her quite the chip on her shoulder. So for now my little grandpup has to be watched over and scolded at times. At least until she matures enough to understand the pain she is causing. She’s getting there bit by bit.” There’s some emotions flashing across his eyes. A sort of conversation happening inside his own head. The little one tormented her brother, but she’d without hesitation come to his aid when outsiders caused him problems.

“Well see the issue is my kind don’t generally have a good relationship with magic. Much of it doesn’t effect us. Some of it works just enough to backfire in the most startling ways. This thing is essentially a pattern I cut into their skin and pour a certain concoction into the wound. Magical castration would be a lot more involved and might cause some serious unintended consequences.” A moment paused as he thought through his list. “Surprisingly enough there were a handful that did get better. Years down the road. A lot of introspection and work.”

There’s a smile tugging at the old wolf’s lips. “In truth? No I don’t believe in fates or destinies. I believe life is a series of choices that shapes our paths and determines what destinations we land at. Nothing is set in stone….though I must admit I do feel a bit hypocritical at times. I believe small parts of the future might be glimpsed. I traveled on a ship with a soothsayer. She could see isolated events. But it is a limited view. So there are those that can glimpse what paths we are likely to tread on. But fate as some grand thing that arches throughout our entire life? No. Not at all. Even though I have seen some truly absurd cosmic coincidences. Like having an old companion that you traveled with centuries ago. Fought back to back. Shared bets and competition. Telling the tales of those adventures to your pup when she was a wee little thing at your knee. And finding out somehow crossing centuries and continents, that old companion met and bonded with your pup. That was a bit of a punch in the gut and I may have flirted with the idea of a fate then. But I guess a stubborn old fool like me can’t shake my worldview up that easily.”

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #159

Can you commit to one person? Yes, I personally am a deeply monogamous person.

Do you shave your nether regions? Completely personal decision, no, I only ever paid attention to the bikini line way back when as a teen and I was comfortable wearing them, but now I have like, no reason to. I especially think it's a bad idea with how my skin reacts to shaving anyway, I become incredibly itchy and I'm prone to ingrown hairs. Shit just ain't worth it. I don't care what others do and I don't have a preference in partners.

How long can you just kiss until your hands start to wander? Uh this varies, like a lot????? Most importantly, how serious are we, but also where are we and what is the general mood between us?

Is there someone mad because you’re dating/talking to the person you are? No, certainly nobody that I know of.

What’s your opinion on age differences in relationships? If you are both legal adults, I literally do not care. You do what you want to do with the partner who wants to be with you. I do agree it's very problematic when especially celebrities target young people, like that is a very real and alarming thing with often manipulative motives behind it, but this certainly isn't always the case. *I* personally don't think I could go beyond a 10-year gap in a partner (and I'm completely disinterested in much younger than me), but that is for me and my relationship alone, other adults can make their own adult decisions.

What’s your dirtiest secret? Nothing very "dirty" honestly, just doing things in beds we shouldn't have, but I feel like most people have done something like this at some point lmao

Do you have a best friend? I confidently consider my boyfriend my best friend, but if you exclude him and also my mom for being "more" than mere friends, then I don't currently. I'm closest with Mazzy and Tez, but simply considering the "best" friendships I've had in the past, it's not entirely the same. I know when I see someone as my best friend, I feel like everyone just knows it in their gut.

What country are you from? I've never left the USA, ugh get me the fuck OUTTTTTTTT

Did you finish high school? I did, then everything went down the drain. My brain just melted shortly after high school, like I really do blame both how viciously over-medicated I was but also my trauma for doing some WILD shit with my head and my ability to process and remember information, because it was exactly around this period where things just changed.

Favorite fictional character? Pyramid Head from the Silent Hill franchise.

Do you count your steps when you walk? No, and I majorly pity those who do have that obsession, it sounds fucking miserable, I've always thought that. OCD in general is.

Would you date someone who’s know for cheating, and if yes, why? I really don't think I'd be able to.

What age do you think is appropriate for kids to start having sex? Well, kids shouldn't be having sex, but I am aware how unrealistic it is to expect most people to wait until they reach the magic age of 18, because they regularly don't, so I'm gonna cut the majority of the population a bit of slack and say absolutely never before 16, but that really just is an arbitrary number. I think maturity has more to do with this than precise age, that and discipline to sticking to never neglecting birth control methods.

Do gay, lesbians, bisexuals, or transgender people bother you? Obviously not when you consider I'm a pansexual, and although a cis person, I am all for trans rights, like I'd die fighting to protect those.

Have you ever been front row at a concert? Which one(s), and how was the experience? No.

What's the strongest earthquake you've ever experienced? I've never experienced one, for which I'm extremely grateful, they sound terrifying.

Have you ever been told you look like a celebrity? No, not that I recall.

Do you own a leather jacket? No, but I have ALWAYS wanted a faux black one, ever since like the start of high school, maybe even before.

Do you have any cereal in your house at the moment? Yeah, we have some Special K and Cheerios, off the top of my head.

Is the street you live on short, long, or somewhere in the middle? It's pretty short, because we live in a development, so there's lots of turns as the roads wind around.

Who was the last person to call you baby/babe? Girt is the only one who ever does, so it woulda been him.

When you’re at the grocery store do you use the self checkout? Dude honestly we don't even go in the store anymore, if it's a place like Wal-Mart; Mom just does those orders where you pick the groceries up, like employees get everything for you. It's easier and quicker, and it's also apparently saved us money, because she's not passing things in the store and thinking "hm didn't plan to get that but it sounds good," stuff like that. Before Covid happened and these pick-ups became a regular thing, if we went inside for not all that much, yeah, we often opted for self-checkout.

If you were abandoned in the wilderness, would you survive? Oh I'm fully aware I wouldn't.

What is a compliment you receive often? That my hair is nice.

Do you like your parents? Yeah, I love them. My dad isn't perfect and I'm very aware of where he's messed up, but I also know how to recognize that he tries.

Where is the furthest place you’ve traveled? Illinois, Chicago general area, so high up.

Which do you prefer, to eat or sleep? I mean I generally find eating more enjoyable than sleeping, but it really depends on what I need in that moment.

What did you do on New Year's Eve? I feel like Mom and I had a drink and just chilled here at home.

Who makes you happiest right now? Girt.

Will you donate organs after you pass? Definitely, I am a massive advocate for this sort of stuff, like you are not going to need ANYTHING in your body after your die, so let it help somebody if it can. It's like a last act of kindness.

Which fictional character can you not stand? Uh, I don't know about can't stand.

What do you think people have an unnecessary stick up their ass about? Good lord, conservative toddlers losing their shit when a brand they like shows support for minority communities, like LGBTQ+ most prominently. People deciding they're no longer buying that beer, no longer shopping in that store, like holy fuck congrats you're a literal walking dumpsterfire of a person.

What common advice do you think never works? Ha, honestly a lot, like everyone's different and different things will work for different people. A strong one though is when people advise depressed or just mentally ill people to "think positively," like it's not that fucking easy. Depression is a literal illness of an organ, and it's basically the equivalent of telling someone with cancer to consciously decide to no longer have cancer. You can't snap your fingers and fix it.

Do you have the same religious beliefs as your parents? No. I'm positive my mom's Christian, but she's the kind that uses her faith for good and only good, she really does, and never tries to impose it into someone else's life. I'm quite sure my dad's a Christian, especially given how fiercely religious his wife is, but I've never seen him act on it, and he doesn't talk about it. I guess the title that best suits me is agnostic, but I can tell you I very much don't believe in a god that takes care of this planet like its baby, and I don't envision it's anything like any god I know of.

Would you ride a motorcycle if given the chance? (Or have you?) No, I don't think so, I just don't trust them. I think the only case where I MIGHT do it is with my mom driving, she fucking loves motorcycles and it's always been a dream of hers to have one. I trust her with my life and I know she'd love it.

What's your favorite Led Zeppelin song? "Kashmir" wins pretty easy, I honestly haven't loved a whole lotta songs by them that I've heard, even when I was really big into classic rock. I very much respected them, though.

How do you treat yourself? Most likely I'd let myself have a soda.

Are you going to pursue a career according to what you enjoy? I'm very much trying. Doing anything artistic though and gaining traction is pretty damn hard when you're not like, family of somebody already famous; building an art career from the ground up is fucking brutal.

What happens to your old clothes? Mom either donates them or throws them out, it depends on multiple things.

What’s your favorite frozen treat? In general, ice cream, but specifically, these snowcones you can get from a business native to NC, Pelican's SnoBalls, in a few spots. It's insanely customizable and their "menu" is absolutely massive, having so many flavors and other treats you can add into it, and this place is FLOODED in the spring/summer months, it's literally depressing when they close for the winter, lol. You've never had a shaved ice product better than this place, it was literally Sara's favorite thing about here, haha. They even have dog-friendly products! In such a hot state it's great for when a dog is with you in the car, especially when your car doesn't have working AC, lol.

Teach me something in another language. Uh not writing in the language itself, but I always thought it was interesting how numbers 21+ are read in German; it's backwards to English-speakers, like you read the smallest numeral first, then the second, third, etc.; like 26 just as an example would be read "sechsundzwanzig," despite the two coming first in the number itself. It gets more complicated as you pass 100 thresholds though; if there's a comma in numbers because of its size, you do say like, how many billions there are before the millions. It's bonkers how long you can make a singular word in German if you're writing out numbers in non-digit form.

What type of music do you like and why? Most kinds of metal and rock, and I'm particularly fond of electronic elements being added to music like that.

Would you be/are you a good role model to a younger sibling? I'm not, Nicole has exceeded me as a human in a number of ways; it's hard to believe she's my "little" sister. Pretty sure I'm always going to see myself as the disappointing/embarrassing sibling.

Have you ever dated someone you work with? No.

List all of your siblings’ middle names. "Nicole" and "Marie" are the only two that I remember.

What was the last present someone gave you and what was the occasion? A bouquet of flowers, for completing physical therapy.

When was the last time you left the house? Where’d you go? Yesterday, to get my tattoo finished.

What’s the most number of people you’ve ever lived with? I want to say the most was five; on two different instances Misty and Bobby lived with us when I was a little kid, but neither stayed permanently for different reasons.

Do you have any pets? How long have you had them? I've had Venus since 2017, and Roman 2018. We've had Cookie less than two years, I know.

Do you like flowers? If so, what type? Of course, I love all flowers for their individual beauty, like I'm one of those people that totally agrees with calling flowers "nature's candy." Does anybody not like flowers, aesthetically?

Do you know anyone who has an odd pet? What do they have? I'm sure I do, but this also depends on what you consider as "odd."

Do you like sapphires? Are they your favourite gemstone, or if not, what is? Sapphires are gorgeous, yeah, but I definitely prefer things like opals, specifically dragon's breath opal. Opals can just be so many different colors.

Did you have a traditional gender colored room when little? Pink, purple? No.

Can you read sheet music? I USED to be able to, I remember very little now.

Do you know who your latest ex is dating? I have no idea if she's with anyone, I never let myself check her socials out or anything.

What are your plans for the weekend? It is the weekend; I'm not doing anything today, but tomorrow, Mom and I go to Girt's place for this yearly dinner they do in memory of his dad; it's his favorite meal. It includes things that are very popularly disliked (such as chicken hearts), and thankfully because of last year I think they already know I'm not eating/am eating before coming, I know at least Girt knows.

Have you ever dated someone who was emotionally or mentally unstable? Yes.

Do you have to sleep with a television on? No, I very much prefer no TV, unlike how I was as a kid. It's distracting, and I already have enough trouble falling asleep.

If you were offered to smoke some weed right now would you accept? No, I never want to smoke anything.

What did you purchase last? I paid the remaining cost to finish my tattoo yesterday.

Do you think your most recent ex misses having you around? No.

Ever seen your best friend cry? Yes, once. It's pretty damn hard to make him cry.

Do you have any brothers? If so, what are their names? Yes; his legal name is Robert, but I've always known him as Bobby.

Ever thought you would be with someone forever? I sure did, so intensely that I really, really, REALLY did consider it an indisputable fact; at that time, a future didn't exist for me without Jason, like it FACTUALLY was not possible that we were going to split, and I know that's exactly why our breakup resulted in literal, diagnosed PTSD. It completely destroyed my way of thinking, it just flipped my brain entirely on its head, and I couldn't cope for a very, very long time.

What grades did you get in middle school? Pretty much solely As and Bs.

Last time you used a knife? Yesterday for dinner, Mom made steak.

What’s one thing you’ve never done but would like to try? Travel out of the country.

What are you doing for Valentine’s Day? Uh I have no idea what we're doing next year for it, it's already passed for '23.

What month did you come into the world in? February.

Do you prefer rabbits to mice? No; I love both, like a lot, but I know more about mice and rats and find them to be very interesting creatures and fantastic, loving pets.

Who out of all the people you know reasonably well is the most "dark?" Uh I really don't know, I have a lot of friends that like dark aesthetics, but they aren't dark people.

Favourite chocolate-based candy? Reese's!

[bratdesire]

Your Dad, My Daddy

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, age gap, older man/younger woman, barely legal, squirting, rough sex, daddy kink, alcohol mention, questionable ethics, d/s dynamics, overstimulation, degrading language, touch of subspace, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight dubcon if you squint but it’s all consensual, Ukai’s dick is pierced, exhibitionism(?)

Genre: Smut, just so much smut

Word count: 9.4k

Author’s note: Here is my contribution to the new HQHQ collab!! You can find the masterlist right here! Big big thank you to @sempiternal-amour and @inaflashimagine​ for beta-ing this monster fic, ilysm <3 This is so incredibly self-indulgent, I even inserted my nickname ~for spice~. Anyways, enjoy my incoherent screaming uwu

Summary: When you go over to your friend’s house for a study session you don’t anticipate meeting her very attractive father, and you surely don’t anticipate the very same man fucking you over their couch.

“Hey, I apologize in advance for anything weird my dad says or does. You know how dads are,” Hitomi explains as she pulls into the driveway of her house. 

It’s small but nice and well-manicured, situated in the cul de sac of a middle-class suburb.

“Dad, we’re here,” she shouts up the stairs, setting her keys on the small table next to the front door. Hitomi’s gaze drifts to the tall, dark haired man sitting at the kitchen table and your own gaze soon follows. “Oh, there you are.”

She quickly pecks the man on his cheek before walking over to the shiny silver fridge, pulling out a couple bottles of water. “Dad, this is Bunny, Bunny this is Dad,” she gestures between the two of you. 

When her father glances up from his phone to give you a nod of acknowledgement, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is. 

You can tell from the slight wrinkles around his lips and the crinkles by his eyes that he’s definitely a much older man, but other than that he’s flawless. The angle of his jaw is sharp but soft, lower face darkened by his five o’clock shadow. His chocolate brown eyes are complemented by plump, pink lips that would look even better swollen and shiny with saliva. Dark, shiny locks are gathered into a low ponytail and you wonder how they would feel fisted in your fingers. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, mature way that boys your age aren’t and could never hope to be. 

Hitomi never told you her dad was hot but then again, why would she? 

“Mr. Ukai, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet him.

He waves his hand in the air dismissively, “Ah, you can just call me Keishin. No need to be so formal.”

Hitomi mutters a frustrated “shit” under her breath and it takes you a few moments to tear your eyes away from the man in front of you. 

“I left my textbook in the car, I have to go grab it,” she sighs then turns to her dad. “You, don’t scare off my friend, please.” 

Keishin puts a hand on his heart, a falsely serious expression on his face. “I won’t, scout’s honor.”

She just rolls her eyes, exiting the kitchen the same way you entered. The front door slams shut, leaving you alone with your friend’s very hot dad.

Keishin looks up at you then quickly looks away, unsure how to interact with his daughter’s friends. “So is, uh, Bunny your real name?” he asks, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

Leaning against the table he’s seated at, you fold your arms across your chest, fully aware of how low cut your top is. You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly flicker down to your cleavage then back up to your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I… I’m just trying to make conversation,” he laughs nervously.

“Hm, well, the short answer is no. You’ll have to get to know me a bit better before I give you the long answer.” 

He snorts, pushing his chair back and rising to his full height. “What gave you the confidence to speak like this to your elders?”

Taking a step towards him, you twirl a piece of hair around your finger and shyly peer up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know, but maybe you can teach me how to behave.”

A light blush colors his cheeks and his eyes widen with surprise. “I-I don’t know what you’re implying, but it’s not... appropriate,” he stutters, taking a step backwards to try to put some distance between you.

You sidle up to him, reaching out a hand to caress his well-muscled arm. When he makes no move to stop your petting, you bite your lip and get on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Who said we had to be appropriate?” 

His mouth is slightly agape, lips moving every so often, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. “I—” he starts.

The sound of the front door slamming open makes you both jump apart, trying to appear as casual as possible. 

“I got it! We can go study now,” Hitomi proclaims, waving the book around in her hands. She glances at you, then at her father and notices the way you’re completely turned away from each other. “Oh my God, Dad, what did you do?” she groans.

He holds up both hands in surrender, shaking his head emphatically. “I didn’t do anything! Why do you always think I did something?”

Your friend strides over to lightly punch his shoulder, a disapproving but loving expression on her face. “Because you’re weird and lame. Besides, between you and Bunny, I’m always going to assume that you’re the guilty party.”

You find yourself chuckling at their banter, touched by how close they are. It’s evident that Hitomi and Keishin care a lot about each other, regardless of how much they tease each other and guilt twists in your gut when you remind yourself that you were flirting with him. She likely wouldn’t forgive you for trying to sleep with her dad and it would cause a great deal of damage to their relationship, possibly beyond repair if she knew he was into girls her age. To make matters worse, you’re two years her junior. What man would sleep with a girl younger than his daughter?

But your morals are tossed right out the window when you take in the sight of Keishin’s radiant smile—all straight, white teeth and eyes that shine like pools of dark honey. It’s in that moment that you decide you’re going to seduce that man if it’s the last thing you do.

Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.

---

“Okay, so L-Tyrosine is one of the twenty amino acids used by the body to synthesize proteins. It is also an aromatic amino acid derived from phenylalanine by hydroxylation in the para position—oof!” Hitomi’s droning is cut off by the pillow you send hurtling towards her head.

You sit up on her bed, squealing obnoxiously as you stretch. “Hitomi, I love you, but please shut up. My brain is melting. We’ve been at this for three hours now, can we take a break?”

She closes the textbook in her lap and pushes it to the edge of her desk. “Fine, fine. We can take a twenty minute break, but we have to go right back to studying because finals are this week and I cannot afford to fail,” your friend warns, despite how she whips out her phone at lightning speed.

Picking at a stray thread on the comforter, you gently try to get her attention, “Hey, Tomi?”

“Hm?” she responds, barely glancing up from the video she’s watching.

You’re not sure how to broach the subject, but you’ve never been one to beat around the bush so you just come right out and say it. “Has anyone told you your dad’s kinda hot?”

That makes her stop, her head jerking up from her phone at lightning speed. “What!? That old geezer?” She sounds dumbfounded, incredulous at the prospect that someone would be interested in her father.

“Yeah girl, he’s a total DILF,” you confess, making a little fanning motion with your hand like you’re burning up inside just thinking about him, and it’s not that far from the truth.

Hitomi makes no effort to hide her feelings, disgust clearly evident in her delicate features. “Ew! You have to be joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking! He’s really sexy,” you muse dreamily.

She claps both hands over her ears, yelling at the top of her lungs to drown you out. “I never want to hear you say that my old man is ‘sexy’ ever again!”

You childishly stick your tongue out at her. “Hey! I’m just speaking the truth. You have to have had friends say the same thing.”

Removing her hands from her ears, she brings one up to stroke her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “Now that I think about it, back in high school my friends were a lot more enthusiastic about coming over once they met my father.”

You feel vindicated by her personal testimony, even if she thinks you’re gross. “See? I’m not the only one who finds your dad ridiculously attractive.”

Hitomi gags dramatically as if she’s going to puke and judging by the look on her face, she just might. “Please, no more, I’m begging you.” 

“Fine, fine I’ll stop, but don’t act surprised when I become your new stepmom,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at her.

“You’re younger than me, don’t even joke about that,” she shudders in horror. “Okay, with that we need to get back to studying amino acids and proteins.”

“Whatever you say, future stepdaughter.” You muster your best motherly voice, sickeningly sweet and a touch passive aggressive.

This time, it’s Hitomi’s turn to throw a pillow at you.

---

Since the day you met Keishin, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. Even when you’re in class trying to learn about the sodium-potassium pump, you find your thoughts drifting to his hands, his lips, him. He’s simply become too distracting to ignore.

More times than you care to admit, you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers to thoughts of how his fingers would feel pumping inside you. You fantasize about how his hand would feel around your neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to make your vision hazy. His name is always on the tip of your tongue when you orgasm and when you finally let yourself moan out ‘Keishin,’ you know enough is enough. A man his age has to know exactly how to make a woman scream and writhe in pleasure, but you need to experience it for yourself or you’ll die trying.

You’re not oblivious to the way he looks at you with hunger and longing in his eyes, you know he wants you too and you’re not above using dirty tricks to show him just how much you want him. 

If he’s too proud, too noble to give in to his urges, you’ll just have to break him. His resolve may be strong, but yours is stronger.

Your efforts begin innocently enough, gently probing him for more information about himself so you can get to know him better.

“I’ve noticed you don’t wear a ring. Is there a Mrs. Ukai in the picture?” you ask innocently.

Keishin clears his throat a bit too loudly, refusing to meet your questioning gaze. “Nah. It’s just me and Tomi, always has been.”

“Any… future Mrs. Ukai in the picture?”

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, the barest of smiles tugging at his handsome features. “Can’t say there is. Between the store and coaching volleyball, I don’t really have the time to date.”

You nod and make a noise of acknowledgement, relieved by the confirmation that he is in fact very, very single. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a homewrecker.

On another occasion, you’re seated on their plush leather couch and Keishin’s in the well-worn La-Z-Boy recliner to your left. You’re watching some Adam Sandler movie on Netflix, but it’s paused while Hitomi is in the bathroom.

You take your alone time together as an opportunity to question him more, toeing the line of what would be considered proper. “So, Keishin, how old are you? I know Tomi’s twenty-one so you must be…” you trail off, hoping he’ll humor you.

He takes a swig of the beer in his hand and your eyes instinctively flicker down to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Old.”

You roll your eyes and prop your chin up on your hand, readjusting your position on the couch so you’re leaning closer to him. “Obviously, but just how old?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asks, head tilted and a well-groomed eyebrow lifted questioningly.

“I was just wondering if you’re older than my dad,” you tease. 

His shoulders shake slightly as he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m forty-four. Do I have him beat?”

“He’s forty-two, so just barely.” Your steady, unwavering eyes lock onto his own, which are glassy and unfocused from the alcohol. When he brings the bottle to his lips once more, you nonchalantly add, “Maybe I should call you Daddy instead.”

Keishin coughs and sputters in surprise, causing him to choke on his beverage and a spray of sticky beer splatters across your face. 

Apologies tumble out of his mouth as soon as he realizes that your cheeks and hair are dripping with the craft IPA he was drinking. “I-I’m so sorry! I’ll get you a towel,” he blurts, shooting up from his chair. 

In his panic and embarrassment, he rushes toward the linen closet and you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth at how uncoordinated he is, now several drinks in. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,” you reassure him, wiping your face with the back of your hand for emphasis.

He returns from the rummaging around the hall closet, a dark blue towel in his hand, which he offers to you with a nod of his head.

No matter your protests and assurances that you’re fine, Keishin is even more insistent in offering you the towel to clean yourself up. When you refuse to take the towel from him, he kneels down next to you and leans in to dab at the foamy liquid that has soaked into your hair. 

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his fingers on your jaw and you almost squeak at his close proximity. He hasn’t let you near him since your first encounter and now he’s right in front of you, so close that his breath curls around your cheeks, smelling of malted hops and the slightest hint of peppermint. You can map out the slight freckles on the bridge of his nose and each long, curled eyelash that brushes his cheeks each time he blinks.

He’s truly a beautiful man, all sharp angles and rough stubble and you can feel your cheeks warm when you realize that he’s right there. If you leaned forward just a little bit more, your noses would brush against each other. 

A deep, rumbling voice interrupts your daydreaming. “Kid, are you even listening to me?”

You blink a couple times, coming to the realization that he’s been trying to talk to you for the last few minutes, but you were too busy admiring his beauty.

Keishin shakes his head as he leans back on his heels, using one hand to rub his face wearily. “As I was saying, you can’t just… say things like that. I know young girls sometimes have fantasies about older men like me, but I’m telling you now that it’ll only end badly,” he sighs. “I’m not a righteous man, I have my vices. God, do I have lots of them, and I don’t need another one.”

He mumbles the last sentence, barely loud enough for you to hear, despite how close you are.

Another one? Is he admitting that the attraction is mutual? You have to know, you just have to. Your body practically aches from how badly you want him.

“Keishin, I—” you start, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stands abruptly and quickly turns to shuffle away from the couch.

“This just isn’t a good idea, kid. Just forget about me, alright?” he says, his back to you. A tinge of regret and hesitation seeps into his words, as if he wants to take back everything he’s said.

After the beer incident, the man is even less receptive than he was before, making every effort to avoid being alone with you.

Even still, you’re not discouraged because he never outright rejected you. If he had, you would’ve stopped your pursuit weeks ago, but he only seems to be trying to maintain his composure as a righteous man.

Righteous men are wolves in sheep’s clothing, always putting on a facade so they can claim plausible deniability when they’re caught with their pants around their ankles. But no matter how honorable or virtuous a man tries to be, none of them can resist a wet, willing pussy laid out in front of them and Keishin is no exception.

That’s why you’ve shown up to their house the last few weeks in skirts far too short to be considered decent, flashing little peeks of your underwear each time you move too much or bend over too far. Each time you bend over to grab a pencil or a piece of paper off the floor, Keishin is always conveniently positioned behind you so he gets an eyeful of your pretty lace panties and the little dark spot where your wetness has soaked through the fabric. 

After you retrieve your item from the ground, you look over your shoulder to make direct eye contact with him and say ‘oops,’ without a hint of regret in your voice. You revel in the clenching of his jaw and the way he exhales loud and heavy through his nose, frustration mounting each time you try to provoke him.

When your ass and clothed pussy are on display for him, you make sure to wiggle your hips a bit, an open invitation to fuck you the way you both want to. It never fails to elicit some sort of reaction from the older man, ranging from a few groans and a choked cough, to making a very hasty exit, a book or some other object held over the front of his jeans. 

Without fail, Hitomi expresses her concern each time her father storms out of the room, red-faced and breathing heavily. He just waves her off, telling her he’s not feeling well, but you know the truth. He’s painfully hard, painfully hard from you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

Truthfully, if you weren’t trying to get him to fuck you so hard you can’t walk you would applaud his self-control and restraint. Even after weeks of teasing and provocation, the man refuses to give in to his desires.

That’s okay. If he’s not going to come to you, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands.

----

It all reaches a tipping point when you’re unable to go home for winter break and Hitomi offers you their guest room to stay in for a few weeks. 

Apparently she never asked her father for permission, if Keishin’s shocked, slightly panicked face when you walked through the door with your suitcase was any indication. When he tried to question Hitomi about whether or not it’s such a good idea for you to stay, she wasn’t having any of it and told him that you’re a friend in need. 

Hitomi’s so sweet and caring that you feel a twinge of guilt for plotting to seduce her father in her house when she’s none the wiser. She just wanted to lend a helping hand by letting you stay with them, oblivious to your true plans, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Now that you’re under the same roof, all you really want to do is ambush Keishin as soon as possible, but you have to plan around Hitomi’s schedule so you have bide your time. What’s the saying? Good things come to those who wait?

And wait you do. You wait for two whole weeks, in fact. But then the stars align so perfectly that some otherworldly force must be looking out for you.

Hitomi is gone to work and won’t be back until the middle of the night when her shift is over, while Keishin is home reviewing footage from his team’s latest game. 

He told you he does this right before a big game so he can tell his players what they need to improve on and get in that last bit of refinement before the day of. When he clued you in on his strategy you just nodded and hummed, not really listening, mostly focused on ogling his muscles through his thin t-shirt.

Your nerves have been buzzing since you woke up this morning, sensing the heaviness in the air. You’re wearing your prettiest lace panties and its matching bra and frankly, you’re feeling pretty damn confident. You look good and you know you look good. If you were trying to seduce any guy your age, they’d drop their pants as soon as they got a little glimpse of your underwear, but Keishin’s not any guy your age. He needs a little convincing, a little push in the right direction, and you’ll be the one to help him.

You’ve flitted around the house all day, just trying to find the right moment to pounce. 

Currently, Keishin is sitting in the living room watching the recording on the big flat screen in the living room. He looks preoccupied with taking notes on the notepad in his lap, but it’s now or never, you suppose.

Before you try to talk yourself out of it, you stride over to where he’s sitting and put your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey. Did you need something? I’m kind of busy analyzing my team’s last game.”

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you wordlessly swing one leg over his, then the other, planting yourself firmly in his lap. His entire body goes ramrod stiff, hands jerking away from your body as if you’ve burned him.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?” he stutters, alarm evident in his voice.

When he makes no move to throw you off his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pressing your chest to his. 

“What we both have been wanting to do since the day I met you,” you purr, lips barely brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers when you gently nibble on his earlobe and your confidence only grows as you discover that he wants this just as much as you do.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn't right. I’m your friend’s father and I’m... old enough to be y-yours,” he mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair, conflicted with how to proceed.

You can’t tell whether he’s trying to convince you or himself, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.

Leaning back slightly, you run your hands down his chest and bite your lip. “Are we going to keep playing games or are you gonna fuck me? Because if not, I’ve got several guys back at college who—”

You’re cut off when Keishin’s hand wraps around your throat, the other braced against your back to pull you flush against him. 

“You think your little stunts are cute, don’t you?” he growls, his minty breath washing over your face.

“What, you don’t think so, Daddy?” you pout, batting your eyelashes at him innocently.

His eyes flash with something hot and primal and you can feel the gush of wetness between your thighs. “I’m getting a little tired of them,” he growls.

“This,” you palm at the bulge straining against his pants, “Tells me otherwise, you know.”

The hand around your throat tightens, cutting off whatever bratty remark you were about to make. “I’ve had enough of you prancing around my home in tiny skirts and flashing me your panties when my daughter is around. It’s unbecoming.”

“Then t-teach me a lesson,” you gasp, struggling to speak with Keishin’s fingers so firmly wrapped around your throat.

The way he grins is downright sinful and it stokes the fire already raging inside you. “Careful what you wish for, little girl.”

With some manhandling on Keishin’s part, you’re shoved toward the couch then pulled back onto his lap, but this time you’re on your stomach and both your wrists are pinned behind your back.

“Before we go any further,” he starts, trailing his fingers down your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I have to ask… How old are you?”

You twist around to look him in the eyes, a defiant smirk on your face. “Old enough.” Your mischievous giggle is cut off by a swift, firm slap to your ass.

“Watch the lip, brat. I need a little more reassurance than that.”

“Since you’re just so concerned, I’m nineteen. Perfectly legal and more importantly, legally fuckable,” you say, punctuated by an enticing wiggle of your hips.

“Jesus, you’re two years younger than Tomi. What am I doing?” He seems lost in thought as the honorable side of him fights a losing battle against his baser, carnal instincts. Whatever reservations he has are thrown aside when you start to wiggle in his grasp, maneuvering yourself over his crotch to grind yourself against his hardness.

Keishin gathers your hair around his fist, harshly jerking your head so far backwards that your spine aches from the unnatural angle.

“Stop fucking squirming. You just don’t know how to behave, do you?” It’s phrased like a question, but he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth so you can’t respond. 

You knew Keishin would be the perfect dom, but the ease with which he settles into the role makes your head spin and your insides throb. Latching onto his digits, you lick and suck like the good girl you are, coating them in saliva as he hums in appreciation.

“Foo wans tuh behav wen thith is wutt I ge fo bein ba?” you ask, garbled and muffled by the fingers massaging the back of your tongue. 

A series of harder, heavier spanks make you squeal and squirm even more in his lap. He gently rubs his hand over your warm, stinging flesh as he speaks. “Such a troublemaker. Just what am I going to do with you, hm?” He tries to sound admonishing, but you can tell he’s smiling behind his words.

His hand leaves your ass, no doubt raised to spank you again, but before he can, you bite down on his fingers. Not too hard, just enough for him to jerk them out of your mouth. “You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.” 

You jolt when his thumb rubs against your pussy through your panties. They’re soaked with your slick, the material clinging to your skin uncomfortably. The barest touch has you gasping and pushing your hips back for more. You’re so sensitive from the teasing and you’re so turned on you just might pass out if you’re not filled up soon.

Keishin just laughs darkly at the pathetic humping of your hips and you can feel the rumbling in his chest. “This is what I love about girls your age. So sensitive…” He pulls your panties aside and gently eases a finger inside you, then another as you moan and shake in his lap. “And so reactive. I bet you’d cum just from me putting my cock inside this tight, wet cunt, wouldn’t you?”

He speaks with a hint of condescension that has you clenching around his digits, coating them in sticky, syrupy strands of your arousal as they pump in and out of you. You’d almost be embarrassed at how worked up you are if you had more self respect, but you don’t. All you can focus on is the way his fingertips curl into the little spongy spot inside you that makes you whine.

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” The challenge in your voice is severely dampened by how breathless and wrecked you are even though you haven’t really even done anything.

His fingers pull out of you with a lewd squelching sound and you can hear him suck them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I imagined, but I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours. Up, little girl.” He coaxes you from his lap and onto the couch so your back is nestled into the cushions.

Sweat is making hair stick to your forehead and you’re breathing so heavily you’d think you just ran a marathon, but Keishin is looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world and it nearly steals what little breath you have left in your lungs.

Oxygen is the last thing on your mind when his lips slot themselves between yours, soft yet demanding as they suck and lick. The movement of his lips doesn’t falter when he pulls your shirt over your head to reveal your light pink bra. Keishin pulls back to kiss along your collarbones, neck, and chest, his teeth occasionally nipping your sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He expertly removes your panties with one hand so you’re left in just your plaid skirt, exposing your heated flesh to the coolness of the living room. 

You’re nearly naked but he’s wearing far too many clothes for your liking, so you blindly grab at his shirt, but your fingers are shaking too much for you to get a good grip. Once he realizes what you’re trying to do, he puts his hands over yours and helps you take off his shirt. You nearly start drooling when all of his hard, rippling muscles and smooth, tan skin are finally revealed to your greedy eyes that can’t seem to settle one thing. You don’t know if you’ll get this opportunity again and you want to remember everything in painstaking detail, especially Keishin’s gorgeous body.

He momentarily disentangles himself from you to remove his jeans, leaving him in just his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. The outline of his cock is evident as it strains against the blue material and you reach out to stroke it, but he just takes your hand in his.

He brings it to his lips, then kisses up your arm until he reaches your lips. “All in due time, sweet girl. I want to taste you first.” Your mouth is claimed in another hungry, bruising kiss and you squeal when Keishin takes your lip between his teeth and bites, blood rushing to the surface of your skin. 

His head dips down to leave featherlight kisses and teasing licks down your chest and stomach before he’s resting between your thighs. You whimper pitifully as he spreads your legs, awaiting the feeling of a wet tongue or his fingers against your folds. When he doesn’t move for several beats, you come to the realization that he’s just watching the way your cunt twitches and clenches around nothing and the wetness that drips onto the couch each time your muscles contract. You quickly bring your legs together to hide yourself from his scrutinizing gaze, but he simply pries them open with little effort.

Keishin grabs your chin so you’ll look right at him, squirming from the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t you dare hide this pretty pussy from me, do you understand? I am going to devour you until I’ve had my fill and you’re going to just lie back and take it.”

You nod obediently, your impudence quickly dying, giving way to the burning ache between your legs that can only be sated by a long, hard fuck.

With a satisfied hum, he settles at the apex of your thighs and licks a long stripe from your quivering pussy to your swollen clit and your hips jerk from the contact. Strong hands pin your hips to the couch as you writhe in his firm grip. He gives your clit a soft, quick kiss before he takes it into his mouth and sucks. You grab fitfully at his hair, back arching and hips pressing into his mouth as you gasp and groan from the incredible feeling of his tongue on your sensitive flesh.

His tongue teases your entrance and your cunt twitches, anticipating the first thrust of his warm, wet muscle inside you. He occasionally dips into your hole, but never breaches your entrance and you think you might go mad if he doesn’t give you more.

“I-I need more, give me more,” you manage to gasp, grabbing a fistful of the pillow underneath you as the tightening in your belly gets stronger.

Keishin removes his mouth from your cunt just long enough to admonish you for your lack of respect. “You need to have more manners if you’re going to demand things of me,” he says, before latching back onto your swollen, twitching clit.

“Daddy, pleeease I need more. Ah! I want to cum!” Your voice is so high-pitched and whiny you almost don’t recognize yourself, but you’re nearly delirious from pleasure and your impending climax that’s been dangled over your head for what feels like hours.

“Now who am I to deny you when you ask so sweetly?”

He thrusts two of his digits inside you, reaching deep inside you and rubbing against your g-spot as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. You’re almost screaming at this point, clawing at his hair and humping your cunt against his face. The familiar tightening in your belly signals that you’re about to cum and your moans and cries get faster, louder as the promise of white hot pleasure is just within reach—

It’s almost embarrassing how fast you’re teetering on the edge of climax, as if you’re a virgin school girl that’s never touched herself before. But maybe that’s the difference that years of experience can make. 

Not that you care. You just want to cum.

“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”

Sensing your impending orgasm, the man uses his free hand to slap your cheek then grabs your throat. “Uh-uh-uh,” he tuts, “Ask Daddy for permission to cum.” You’re clamping down on his fingers impossibly tighter as he fingers you even deeper, and the way he sucks on your clit renders you incapable of speech. Each time you open your mouth to try to speak, more desperate, wanton noises escape your lips.

You’re about to fucking burst at the seams and you feel like you’re on fire, but you want to be a good girl for your daddy, so you use the last bit of brain power you have left to ask for permission.

“P-pleaaase Daddy may I ahhh! May I cum!” you ask, but you can’t even hear Keishin give his approval from how loud the blood rushing in your ears is as you finally cum.

You try to muffle your cries with the back of your hand, but he grabs your wrist and wrenches it away from your mouth.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you scream.” His tone is clipped and short, not caring how rough he is with your delicate flesh.

If you weren’t already cumming, you would have from the pleasure that’s so intense, it’s almost painful as your body is wracked with tremors. Your legs snap around Keishin’s head and you grip his hair even tighter as wave upon wave of your orgasm washes over you. You hear someone screaming and wonder what’s happening, when you realize it’s you, you’re the one screaming as you ride out your climax.

He greedily slurps and sucks up every single drop of your release that you can give him, as if he was stranded in the desert for a thousand years and your juices are the first sip of water to hit his dry, parched tongue. Your cunt is already so sensitive, painfully clenching around his fingers, but he just. Doesn’t. Stop.

“Fuck, K-Kei, wait ‘s too much,” you weakly protest, but your body is too spent to resist so you just lie there, twitching and gasping as he keeps sucking on your overstimulated clit.

His lips detach from your poor, abused bud and you almost sigh in relief before the fingers inside your cunt pump faster, stimulating every inch of your gummy walls.

Keishin leans over your sweaty, exhausted form, one hand braced on the couch, the other buried inside you. His fingers are hitting a spot inside you that makes you feel the urge to pee, so you try to push his hand away but it’s futile with how much stronger he is than you. 

“Hold onnn, I’m g-gonna—” you slur, panicked, but it’s as if he didn’t hear you.

His digits are relentless, rubbing and stroking and you’re a fucked out mess. You don’t know what he wants until an uncomfortable tightness shoots through your cunt. You cry out as clear liquid gushes out of you, splashing all over you, the couch, and Keishin. If you were more coherent, you might be mortified because you just… pissed on him—

To your surprise, he’s laughing as he removes his hand from inside you, ignoring your halfhearted groans. “I was hoping you’d do that,” he says, holding up his hand, shiny and dripping with your juices. 

“D-Do what?” you pant, unsure of what just happened and why Keishin seems so smug.

He uses his discarded t-shirt to wipe his hand off, then dabs at your stomach where a sizable puddle accumulated. “Squirt,” he responds. When he sees your confused expression, he follows up with, “It’s not piss, if you’re worried about that.”

“Ooookay.” You’re too dazed and exhausted to argue with him or question him further, so you just flop into the sofa and close your eyes.

“C’mon, little girl, don't tell me that’s all you’ve got. You were talking so much shit earlier and I have so much more to give you.” Despite how tired you are, his words spark new arousal in your belly and defiance revitalizes you, movement returning to your limbs.

You slide a hand down your stomach and spread the puffy lips of your cunt, sliding a finger through your wetness. “Of course it’s not. I’m ready to take that hard cock of yours, Daddy.”

“Attagirl, that’s what I like to see,” he praises, dropping his underwear and sliding them somewhere you can’t see. 

His cock is gorgeous, but that doesn’t come as a surprise, considering the man it belongs to. It’s thick and curved in a way that you know will reach the deepest parts of you.

What you weren’t expecting is the many piercings adorning the shaft and the one that goes through the head. A long curved barbell enters through the tip and exits through the underside of his glans. Three evenly spaced rings are embedded in the skin where his shaft meets his balls. You’ve never seen so many piercings on one man, let alone in such a sensitive place, so you gawk at the smooth metal rings that shine in the overhead lights.

“You’re… You have…”

He grins widely and it’s so devilish you think he might swallow you whole and honestly? You’d let him. You’d let him do whatever he wants to you. “Haha, yeah I get that reaction a lot. Never seen a pierced cock before, huh?”

“No, but there’s a first time for everything. I’m dying to see how those,” you point to his piercings, “Feel inside me.”

Keishin wordlessly climbs on top of you and rubs the head against your wetness, spreading it along his shaft to ease his entry. “They’ll feel fucking incredible, but you’ll have to beg for it.”

You scoff, reaching to grab his hips so he’ll fuck you already, but he scoots backwards so you can’t touch him.

“Naughty girls that misbehave don’t get fucked, so you’d better smarten up quickly,” he warns, making you gasp as he thrusts his cock against your clit.

He lazily nudges the head over your flesh, occasionally letting it catch on the tight ring of muscle around your hole. When he slots between your pussy lips, you try to wiggle and hump your hips in his direction, in hopes that he’ll slide right in.

But he doesn’t, and you’re about to go mad with his cock so close, but so far away.

“Please fuck me Daddy. I need your cock so bad!” You’re on the verge of tears, the buildup of the last few weeks overwhelming your senses.

Making a noise of sympathy, Keishin pets your hair affectionately and kisses your cheek. “All you had to do was ask.”

His hips pull back, then he’s thrusting inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in your tight heat. You whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, but any pain you feel is overshadowed by the way that his cock is filling you so full. The burn and stretch hurts so fucking good that your orgasm hits you like a freight train, fast and hard and blinding. Keishin fucks you through it, his cock touching all of the sensitive spots inside you and the pleasure is so strong you have to screw your eyes shut as you cry out and fall apart around him.

When you open them again, the man is staring down at you with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. “See? I said you’d cum as soon as I put my cock inside you.”

Using all the strength you can muster, you slap his arm. “Shut up and just fuck me.”

“You still haven’t learned your manners, but I just can’t wait to shoot my cum deep inside this cute cunt of yours,” Keishin groans, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back inside the hot, welcoming clutch of your pussy. 

You can feel each of the metal rings on his cock, foreign and strange, but the odd feeling soon fades to little shocks of ecstasy each time they brush against your insides.

The lewd slapping sounds of skin on skin are all you can hear besides the occasional moan or hiss from the man fucking you within an inch of your life, not that you can focus on anything else right now.

You nudge at Keishin’s shoulder and he stops the rapid pistoning of his hips, an almost annoyed look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but you just smile and push him backwards onto the couch, just like you were. He grunts in surprise as he falls backward, but he quickly quiets down when you climb on top of him and sink yourself back down on his length.

You both moan in unison as he fills you once more, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix each time you force your cunt back down on him. His hands wander to your tits, grabbing, squeezing, and pinching the sensitive buds of your nipples. 

Ever the troublemaker, you can’t resist making a jab at him now that you’re on top. “I wonder what she’d do if she knew you were with me right now. What would your daughter say about you taking advantage of a young, helpless girl?”

Keishin takes that moment to pull you against him, thrusting hard and rough into your gummy walls that never stop pulsing around him. You’re shaking and gasping, your tongue lolling out of your mouth in your pleasured delirium. “With the way your greedy, sloppy cunt is clenching around me, I wouldn’t say I’m taking advantage of you,” he points out, only slightly out of breath. “But you get off on this, don’t you? Letting an old man like me fuck you. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Like you’re any b-better,” you bite back.

You cry out when Keishin starts rubbing your swollen clit in tight little circles, your third orgasm fast approaching. 

“Fuck! I can—urgh, I can feel your pussy pulsing around me. I’m g-gonna cum,” he grits out, thrusting impossibly deeper inside you. He's pressed so far into you, he’s just thumping the head of his cock against your cervix. You scream and write in his arms, seeking to relieve the sharp burning in your womb just a little bit, but he has you firmly locked in his clutches. “Be a good little girl and cum for Daddy.”

Almost on command, you shake and moan, loud and long, as you cream all over his cock and coat the base in milky white. “Oh fuck, oh god! D-Daddy I’m cu-mming!” you wail with the last of your energy.

You’re so exhausted you go limp against him and let him use your body as a fuck toy until he reaches his climax. Keishin follows soon behind you, his thrusts growing sloppier and less coordinated as he mumbles obscenities under his breath. “Shit shit shit, fuck I’m cumming! I’m gonna—fuck!”

With one last thrust into your fluttering, over stimulated cunt he orgasms, his legs shaking as he shoots rope after rope of cum into your quivering womb.

You both lay there for several minutes to catch your breaths. You’re so sore and boneless you can barely move, but you manage to extricate yourself from Keishin’s long limbs. Leaning into the arm of the couch, you let your eyes flutter closed and allow sleep to take you.

You’re awoken by a warm, wet washcloth rubbing against your sensitive folds and you whine, sleepily wiggling your hips to get away from the discomfort. “Kid, I know it doesn’t feel good but, uh, it’s kind of a mess down there. You can go back to sleep, just let me clean you up.” Keishin’s familiar timbre comforts you so you settle back down, still half asleep.

“Mmm, Keishin?” you mumble, making grabby hands at the man.

He takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” he responds as he wipes the washcloth between your legs with his other hand.

You rub your face against his hand before placing a sloppy kiss on top of it. “Thank youuuu,” you slur.

Keishin just chuckles and rubs his fingers over your knuckles. “Yeah kid, you’re welcome. Just get some rest, alright?”

You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.

----

When you awaken it’s dark, most likely the middle of the night. There’s a blanket thrown over your unexpectedly clothed body, which is now covered in a worn, oversized shirt. It smells like fabric softener and musk, so you figure it must be Keishin’s.

Looking around, you bolt upright when you realize you’re not on the living room couch anymore, you’re now in a large, comfortable bed.

The sound of a deep, rumbling voice draws your attention to the bathroom connected to the room you’re currently in. “Oh, you’re finally awake,” Keishin says sheepishly as he emerges from the bathroom, then points to the nightstand next to you. “There’s some water and ibuprofen, you should take it. Even if you’re not sore now, you will be later.”

You chuckle tiredly as you stretch your overworked muscles. “I’m already sore, so I’ll definitely be taking these.”

He sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, unsure how to treat you after your little encounter. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on he’s seemingly deep in thought.

“Whatever you’re thinking, just spit it out.” His head immediately snaps to you, eyes guarded and unreadable.

“What we did downstairs, it’s… not right. I’m supposed to protect young, impressionable girls like you. I’m a father—I would die if Tomi was after a man more than twice her age.”

You pull the blanket off of you and climb over to where the older man is seated on the mattress. “Keishin, let me ask you something.” He lifts his head, expectant. “Did you enjoy what we did? Because I did.” He nods slowly, still unsure what you’re getting at.

Taking his face in your hands, you tell him what you’ve been thinking for weeks. “At the end of the day, we’re two consenting adults who partook in consensual activities. Even if someone wants to clutch their pearls because you’re older than me, who cares?”

“Yeah, I get that, but… It has to be some sort of ethics violation on my part. You’re younger than my daughter, Bunny.”

“Even if it is, you have to allow yourself to live a little. Life is too short to deny yourself pleasures the world has to offer, and I don’t know about you, but I was very pleased by our… tryst.”

A cute blush spreads across Keishin’s cheeks as he remembers everything he said and did to you. “Aha, I was too. So, um… Would you want to do that again, sometime?” he asks, running a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s nervous.

You giggle and tackle him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Of course I do. We can even do it now, if you’d like…”

A couple hours later, just before Hitomi comes back, you limp across the hallway to your room and pass out, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And that is how your little arrangement begins.

Most of your time is spent with Hitomi, mostly shopping and going out to eat when she has the day off, or just watching Netflix in her room when you’re both too tired to go anywhere.

However, in the wee hours of the morning when you’re sure that she’s asleep, you sneak up to her father’s bedroom and get fucked so hard and so good you can barely make it back to your bedroom before the sun rises.

It’s a good arrangement, you think, you both get what you want and your friend is none the wiser. You figure no harm, no foul. At the end of the winter break, Keishin will likely want to cut things off with you and you’ll go back to your college dorm as if nothing happened.

But the winter break isn’t over yet, and you plan on making the most of it.

Keishin has been fucking you into the mattress for so long, time no longer even makes sense anymore. 

You’re sweaty and exhausted, muscles so sore and shaky, but the thrusting between your legs shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. The harsh grip on your hips will likely bruise, but luckily you can hide them, unlike the few close calls you’ve had with poorly-placed marks on your neck.

Despite your exhaustion, you continue to meet Keishin’s thrusts by humping your hips back at him.

He gives your ass a harsh spank and fucks into you harder, making you whine and clench around him. “You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you? So fucked out and dripping with my cum, yet you still want more,” he says, but all you can do is gasp in response. You’re too far gone to produce any meaningful response. “What am I going to do with you?” If you had the energy, you’d tell him whatever he wants, but you don’t and the familiar tug of an orgasm is too hard to ignore.

“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”  

Suddenly, his phone comes to life, Hitomi’s face lighting up the screen as it vibrates. The pistoning of his hips slows, then stops completely as he reaches over and grabs it off the nightstand.

He suddenly pulls out of your sore, abused cunt and you almost whine at the loss before he buries himself back inside you. The way your face is pressed into the mattress makes it difficult, but you manage to turn your head to see what Keishin is doing behind you.

Your eyes widen and you try to wriggle out of his grip when you figure out that he’s going to answer his phone as he keeps fucking you.

A hand wraps around your neck, lifting you up from your position on the bed and you have to follow its movement to prevent your windpipe from getting crushed. You’re pressed against Keishin’s hard chest, and his cock is nestled right against your cervix. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just stay still and take it like a good little girl.”

The harsh grip on your neck releases and you’re shoved back into the bed, falling onto the comforter.

Keishin sounds completely normal when he answers his phone and it almost pisses you off—how can he be so unaffected when you’re at your wit’s end? 

He chirps into the phone, “Hey sweetheart, what’s up?” The only indication that anything is amiss is the slight breathlessness in his voice and the occasional curse under his breath.

He forces himself even deeper inside you so forcefully that you’re afraid he’ll punch straight through to your womb. You know it’s not possible, but with Keishin, it just might be. He’s always full of surprises, especially when it comes to your body.

“Oh yeah, sure I can drop it off to you later. I’m just a little… preoccupied at the moment,” he says with a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. Keishin stiffens above you, waiting to see if Hitomi heard you through the phone.

“No, Hitomi, I’m not watching porn! But hold on a second, I think someone is at the door.” He sets the phone on the bed, muting the call as his cock hits your g-spot and you’re shaking, practically shivering in his arms. A couple of hard, coordinated rubs of your engorged clit and you’re cumming, gushing around him and keening as your muscles clench uncomfortably. You scream silently and fall limp onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer. 

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, but it’s to the point that each successive orgasm borders on the edge of pleasure and pain.

“Better keep quiet, wouldn’t want my daughter to hear you getting your pretty little cunt stuffed full of my cock,” Keishin snarls into your ear and you feel yourself clench painfully around him. Your body is just so worn out, but you know he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. “Or do you want her to know what a slut you are for her father?”

You shake your head vehemently, but the man inside you just chuckles as he keeps fucking you.

“Oh my god, oh fuck I-I…” You’re babbling nonsense to no one in particular.

“Ahh it was just-fuck, it was just some dude trying to sell me security cameras. Anyways, I’ll see you later honey, I love you.” His last few sentences sound rushed, urgent and you can tell from the twitching of his length that he’s close. The moment the phone is hung up, Keishin cages you between his body and the mattress. “Your cunt feels so fucking good, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Would you like that?”

You try to nod and make a noise akin to ‘mhm,’ but you’re not sure what it sounds like. You’re not really sure of anything right now, but what you are sure of is you want him to cum inside you.

“I could never deny you anything, sweet girl,” he groans.

Keishin fucks into you harder, faster, and it feels as if he’s quite literally rearranging your guts, he’s so deep inside you. He reaches down between your legs and pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers. “Think you have one more in you, hm?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer. Of course you do.” He rubs your sore clit the way he knows will have you shaking and coming apart around him.

“Fuck Daddy, fuck I’m cumming!” you squeal, writhing and squirming from the painful, aching tightness of your orgasm as it builds once more. 

“Ergh, fuck yeah, cum on Daddy’s cock as he fills you up. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, I love this sweet pussy.”

You shriek as you cum, your climax so strong that your vision blurs at the edges and you convulse, sore muscles twitching with overuse. 

“Daddy’s gonna breed his sweet little girl, fuck, feels so fucking good!” Keishin groans, burying himself as deeply as he can inside you and shooting his cum into your quivering hole. You sigh in relief at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your womb, thankful he finally came because you couldn’t have lasted much longer in your state.

He flops next to you on the bed, sweaty and exhausted from your hours-long fuck marathon. Throwing an arm over your waist, he pulls you to his chest and buries his nose in your neck. 

Hitomi’s not supposed to come back for several hours, so you both deem it safe to fall asleep as you are. Just when you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes from the bedside table.

You reach for your phone, expecting it to be some spam email.

Your heart stops, the whole world seems to freeze when you open the text message.

From: Tomie <3

So when were you going to tell me you’re fucking my dad?

[minshookie]

High Ransom.

Pairing |Mafia!BTS x innocent!reader

Genre | smut, angst, dark themed, mafia AU.

Summary | “They all knew your mothers word was good for nothing, she’d never pay it back. So they settled for a painful compromise.”

!warnings! Please read this before reading the fic| 18+ mature language, perverse actions, virginity loss, violent sex, anal sex, oral fem and male receiving, financial struggle, parent death, strict and neglecting mother, cum eating, darcyphilia, urolagnia,slight hate-fuck,reader insert is of age, extremely naive & innocent insert. I do not agree or support any actions depicted in this fictional work,rape. !!NON-CON!! !!non-con!!

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|

(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 4k.

A/N: 200 Follwers?! Hi, I love y’all sm 🤧. But on a serious note, this is the filthiest thing I’ve ever written, I warned y’all. Also the longest one of written yet. I hope it isn’t too much :’) please excuse any mistakes or grammatical errors.

Could they be running late? Shivering you sat in the windowsill towel wrapped around you keeping a sharp eye for their large dark SUV you loved so dearly. They were supposed to be here today, right? Getting up you stretch your legs going to look at your heavily decorated calendar,‘Friends Day!!’ In bright pink informed you, yes indeed they were to be here today.

A smile crept on your face, the confirmation made you feel giddy, the thought of seeing them again made you excited beyond belief. “Y/n I just know you’re dressed and not dripping all over the carpet!” Your mother teased from the living room. You swore she had cameras on you, unraveling yourself you chose one of the few outfits she had put together for you for guest appearances. Closing the curtains, making them look as casual as you could. You then sat on the bed waiting for her to come inspect, counting her footsteps along the creaking wood floors. She crept into your room, a stern expression on her face, you could tell she was stressed with nothing positive to say she mumbled “Stop pulling that face you look exactly like your father.”

You stood from the drab mattress choosing not to respond, “wet spot on the floor?! What’d I tell you to do?!” You hung your head, why must she always scold you. “You told me to get dressed Momma.” She sighed, “and you chose to come in here and prance around, flood the floors and dilly dally instead!” You studied the minuscule dark spots on the carpet, “they’ll dry momma.” You whispered under your breath hoping she wouldn’t decipher your response.

“Excuse me?” She griped your cheek in a pinch making you pull your head up to face her. She took a step back releasing your face, she sucked her teeth in disapproval. “Y/n you’ll have stay in here, that dress has gotten too short on you.” She knew her words hurt you, seeing the boys was the only thing you looked forward to every month. Their attention sometimes felt like your only reason to go forward, to avoid conflict with your mother, their presence being a type of reward. She turned to go and your vision began to blur, tears warmly cascade your plumped cheek.

Leaving you alone in the room, you resume your position in the windowsill moving the curtains just enough to peak. Still no sign of them, maybe they’d given up on the money, left you for good and you couldn’t blame them. If you could leave you would too. At that moment all hopes were given up, no longer keeping an eye out you began to daydream... at least Momma would be happier no longer having to worry about the escalating debt.

Sulking in loneliness you barely noticed a white SUV pulling into their usual cut....whose this? You opened the curtains repositioning,hands in the glass knees on the jagged wood of the windowsill bench. Couldn’t be, oh but it was! You bounced like a hyperactive child, Hoseok climbed from the drivers seat handsomely waving directly at you. They all followed offering you waves and air kisses making both your stomach and heart do flips. Tumbling from the bench you run to your door eccentric to get your fix of attention, affection, friendship.

“Get back y/n, what did I say?” She was waiting for you to break her command, she knew you’d forget. “To stay in my ro-” “so why don’t you do as told for once?” You fought the bitter tears as they knocked on the door, You shuffled back into your cage of room like a kicked puppy. Shutting the door you sat on the floor compressing your ear along the hard wood.

“Ah, welcome! Come in take a seat can I get you a drink or a meal? Anything really.” She spoke with a quiver, she had nothing to pay them back with absolute zilch. “Where’s y/n?” You smiled warmly, that voice had to be Taehyung. “She’s in bed sick.” “Sick, she looked alright from the window.” Hoseok you idiot. “I’m sorry... you saw her through the window?”

“Ah Ah, we didn’t come to talk about the build of y/n’s room you know what he want.” Jin was all serous business, the room was silent. “Next month for sure.” She lied right through her teeth and they all knew it. “You said that last month, and the month before, and the month before that.” You held your breath, you hated it when they bickered she honestly didn’t have the money you two only lived in this house because it was your father’s property, and everything you got just by luck and the skin of your teeth. She simply couldn’t afford to borrow anymore, as the boys began to add impossible interest.

“Listen, we’ve let you off the hook because of your circumstances,we had a soft spot, we held you at a respect for your strength...but now the well is drying up on patience and your debt is growing into a monstrosity.” Namjoon gave his spiel

“Your husband may be dead, but honey you’re next if this money doesn’t turn up...and the plans they have for y/n aren’t cute, if you had any decency you’d get your ass off that insurance money and pay up, don’t forget you pay for protection and soon you’re going to start getting what you pay for.” Yoongi was rude whenever he came to collect, almost never staying for the excuses once ‘no’ or ‘later’ was uttered he’d head for the door, but today he decided to do otherwise.

The room fell quiet, and though your mother was cold and not much of a mother at all to you it pained you to hear her sobs and sniffing. You could tell the words being thrown at her stung her deeply. Curious to what was going on behind your door you decided to have a peak, and apparently you weren’t too good at sneaking. Your door cracked ajar, as if he knew it would happen you made direct eye contact with Taehyung.

“Boys I-I don’t know what you want from me you know the money isn’t in my possession right n-” “y/n! Come out from hiding kitten!” Opening the door you stood reading the room, your mothers face glistening, you know better than to disobey on purpose. “It’s ok y/n c’mon we want to see you.” Joon’s smile is so captivating his voice so relaxing, but your mothers gaze killed its power. “C’mon tell her she can come out.” Jin orders and your mother complies by giving you a nod of permission, sniffing over her concealed cries. It ached your but you were too excited to comfort her as you quickly escaped your confines.

“Ohh look at your pretty dress, come sit.” Taehyung pulled you onto his lap, “isn’t it pretty boys?” He pulled the fringes that decorated the bottom, barely reaching you mid thigh. “Everything’s beautiful on our y/n.” Jimin agrees, greeting you with a flirtatious wink. Making you smile into Taehyung’s chest. “Bashful girl.” His large hand rubbed your back soothingly.

“This delicate little thing around all those men with no one to help her, tsk could you imagine.” He glided his hand along your exposed thigh “that tickles.” Whispering into him you feel you face warm up. He hums in response, “want me to stop?” “No, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed all of you!” You turned catching all of their gazes, “same to you princess.” Jin chuckled, giving you a cheek kiss.

“Please let her-r go ba-ck now.” Their smiles faded, and you’d hate to admit it but yours as well. You’d usually never go against your mother but she just didn’t want to see you happy, ever. And you hated it. “Momma...I don’t wanna go back right now, can I be with my friends?” Her eyes stretched in shock and anger, the boys found your rebellion comedic letting a chuckle escape. “Y/n get back to your room now you have no clue what you’re playing with!” Her tone made you wince, no longer feeling bold you were about to comply. Taehyung griped your waist holding you back on top of him.

“And who are you to order someone around when you can’t follow orders yourself?” She sat speechless, “Taehyung, Namjoon, Jin...next month.” Her pleads were pathetic, even you knew it wouldn’t work this time. “No. Pay up today, or we’ll be taking some sweet sweet collateral.”At the moment you didn’t fully understand or care what exactly Taehyung was threatening, the only thing your brain could focus on being his rough palm griping and rubbing your inner thigh. The sensation caused a tingle within you, you couldn’t help but fidget in his lap. “Still tickling baby?” You nodded, a bit too flustered to speak.

“I-I I have a hundred or two I can give.” His hand ceased its motions, making you whine for more of the foreign feeling. He lifted a brow in suspect “You take us as a joke don’t you?” She shook her head frantically. “You just offered us not even a fraction of a year's worth of debt...you think we’re idiots, you think we won’t do what we say we will do you?” The tension made you uncomfortable as everyone glared at your mother for her response, you gripped Taehyung’s dark suit. “Hmph, okay Y/n, show us your pretty room Love.”

A simple request made your mother stand in protests, “going to get the rest of the money?” Yoongi asked knowingly, your mother trembled. Why was she so afraid, they only asked to see your room...maybe she was still upset over the wet spots. “No? Well I suggest you sit the fuck down.” Everyone left from their seat, “go on show us Petal.” He smiled in encouragement. You pulled Taehyung by his hand showing all of them into your seemingly empty room, nothing to embellish the space besides your curtains, calendar and bed.

“Very cute, very cute, right boys?” They hummed nodding while looking at the four bland walls around them. “Jungkook won’t you close the door please.” He demands the youngest, and he does as told, letting your catch a two second glance if your sniveling mother before your fate was sealed. “Lock it will you?” “Uhm it doesn’t lock.” You confessed plopping down on your plush mattress kicking your feet over the edge. “Ahh, Jungkook...make it lock.” He went to work and you watched curiously until your attention was taken by Taehyung climbing in bed next to you. “Very comfy.” He complemented.

“Oh, oh please take your shoes off.” You recited rules that were practically engraved in your memory. He laughed complying, “you heard her, shoes off.” They did as told, making your laugh at their unison actions. You turned to him with a smile still on your face, “want to see my closet?” “No, but I do want you to lay down.” You gave him an inquisitive look, you weren’t sick and you definitely weren’t tired. “It’s ok, I just wanted to play a game, a friends game.”

Oh how excited you were! A game with your friends! You laid down beside him your head rested on your pillow. “Ready?” You nodded eagerly, the rest of them watched closely. “Ok beautiful, I’m going to ask you some things and all you have to do is tell me if you’ve done it before...” he looked around at his men, they looked back with anticipation. “We’ll all play.” You nodded, beyond excited for this new experience.

“We’ll start easy, have you ever kissed someone?” Your face grew a dopey grin, “don’t be shy.” You nodded quickly, “oh? Show me how.” Sitting up a bit, you took his jaw, turning him to the side pecking his warmed cheek quickly. He smiled widely, “innocent little thing, here let’s try this.” He took your jaw in his fingers, coming in and ravishing your lips. Unknowingly you lay motionless as he took over the kiss, maneuvering you as he pleased. Pulling your slack chin he parted your lips, his tongue intruded sharing his taste. A tingle ran through you, you’ve never seen something like this let alone feel it. Taehyung pulled back trailing slobber as he lifted, “m-more more kissing!” He shook his head, laughing at your greed. “No no, there’s more to the game.”

Smirking he snuck his hand under your quaint dress, “ever let Somebody like me see your cute little panties?” You shook your head no, “let us see?” You eagerly pulled your dress up, “pretty in pink...wet your panties hmm?” Sheepishly you shut your legs, “sorry.” He rubbed your exposed tummy, “no don’t be sorry kitten, that’s great, so good.” He dragged his fingers along your pelvic area. “Yoongi, your turn?” Taehyung continued to brush your skin.

Yoongi stood from his seat on the floor in speciation. He brought his finger between your legs using his other hand to push your legs apart. “Ever felt something like this?” He ran his fingers up and down your middle, pausing along the top giving you an oddly familiar feeling that you loved. “Mm.” You moved a bit closer to the pleasure. “Yoongi stop, answer him y/n.” Nodding you yearned for yoongi’s fingers. “Don’t lie...show us.”

Rolling over you pulled a pillow from behind you positioning it between your legs as you lay on your side. “Go on.” Yoongi nudged you and you began to rub yourself, pushing the pillow firmer into your core whimpering as the pressure increased, “it feels so good!” “Naughty naughty y/n.” You continued to pleasure yourself, “mm I know, please don’t tell anybody.” Taehyung took the pillow rubbing his finger along the wet spot you left behind. “You ever cum sweetheart?” You squeeze your legs together hoping for pleasureful friction. “What’s that?”

“You’ve been rubbing yourself raw with no release?” He had a glint of pitty in his tone. “ I-I guess.” Yoongi had began his adventurous handy work once again and you couldn’t get enough. He sat beside you, looking into your eyes intently. “How’s it feel?” “Good, please don’t stop!” Taehyung pulled his partners hand away, “don’t give her too much Hyung.”

You pout squirming, itching with pent up sexual frustrations. “You both play like she’s a doll, she’s a woman, you know what she wants even if she doesn’t.” Jin came from his spot leaned against the corner, he came close stalking over your figure, “take these off.” He pulled your panties roughly you could hear the weak fabric give way as he stripped you.

“Careful.” You felt self conscious as they eyed your nude private area, Jin took over where Yoongi was removed, the direct contact could make you scream in joy, “close your eyes.” Jin ordered, and who are you to say no to the pleasure. A strange warmth took over your core making your hips jump uncontrollably “mhhm please.” “Hold her down Hoseok.” Even that simple second of neglect made you upset. Your hips were restrained and Jin continued his work, “sorry.” You opened your eyes to meet Taehyung’s gaze and a smile was plastered on his features, looking down at Jin who  was kissing your privates, so strange but so amazing.

“Oh please!” You couldn’t control your moans, closing your eyes, “too good princess?” “Mm too good.” Jin removed his lips from you “you're a savage Kim.” Jungkook comments eyes glued to your core, as if he couldn’t resist the view. “Some hair shows she is healthy n’ pure , but you wouldn’t know anything about that, you like your women whorish” He comments lewdly wiping his plump lips. They stood in speculation as you pressed your thighs together desperately. “Oh please! Jin please more!” You earned a hand over your mouth. In attempts to shut your pathetic whines. “Please don’t hurt her!” Your mother beat the door with concern. “Does she sound hurt, don’t make us do something we don’t want to, now go away!” Taehyung growled, before leaving the bed, he undid his pants the respect in you made you look away. “Ever see this before?” He climbed over you, too cowardly to peak, you kept looking into his dark irises. “Your private?” He laughed in your face, “my cock?” He sat on your legs trapping you. He pulled your dress over your head, fully undressing you with ease.

Taken over my temptation, Jimin groped your clothed chest “don’t touch her.” His command was final, Taehyung had been taken by the monster of greed and lust. “Go on look y/n.” Your eyes slowly traveled down, he had himself in his clutches stroking squeezing at the tip collecting the strange ooze on the tips of his fingers. Reaching he glossed your lips with his juices, “never wear makeup, this is all you need pretty girl.” The smell was strong and musky, curious you took a taste, sweaty and sweet. “Greedy girl...you know where this belongs?” He tapped you with his erect cock.

“I don’t think so.” He nodded, reaching below himself without hesitation he penetrated you with his index. “Ouch Tae!” His eyes stretched in surprise, “that hurts? Oh what fun you’ll be.” His finger stretched you slightly as he explored, thrusting softly, curly at the knuckle. Pulling his finger back, and a thick stripe of cloudy grool connects the two of you. “Shit, would you look at that.” They came looking as you lay victim Yoongi had pulled himself from his pants stroking himself shamelessly. Hoseok unbuttoned his top, his fist buried in his pants, while Jimin palmed himself giving you a warm smile, while Jungkook sat timid away from the action and Jin’s face set stoney, seemingly uninterested. Namjoon being the false comfort he was, he stood close, his bulge in your face as he stroked your hair.

Out of breath, the best you could muster being, “I’m sorry if it’s gross.” Lustfully he used your nectar to stroke himself sensually making violent eye contact in the act.

“Stop apologizing, this is the best cunt I’ve ever seen.” Using his foreign vulgar vocabulary he moved back, using his hands to get a better view of your most personal area. “Oh honey, you’ve never had anything in this sweet pussy of yours huh?” You shook your head, “no never.” You whisper. “Let’s change that yeah? Will you be a big girl?” You nodded body full of utter curiosity, what was coming for you the last thing you could have fathomed.

“Mm, you’re the sweetest thing on Earth y/n” he gazed into you, looking your shivering body up and down as if you two were completely alone. He lowered himself distracting you with another one sided kiss, this time though you attempted to participate.

Little did you know his hidden agenda, he gripped his girthy member, massaging it along your slickening core in search of your small entrance. “Ah Ah Taehyungie!” You squealed against his lips. He’d barely pushed into you and the pain was prominent “shh shh wouldn’t want to make momma upset.” He paused and looked down at your slightly connecting bodies. “Hmm Let’s play another game.” He reached for the pillow you were pleasuring yourself on, he placed it over your face constricting your air in the process, muffling your pathetic whimpers and mewls.

In one violent action...“TEAHYUNG!” Your throat felt as if it would collapse,He forced himself into your constructing entrance ripping your walls you felt yourself struggle to become accustomed his size. His pace inhuman. You gasped for air,the pillow blocking any gasp you could get. “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe Tae!” He kept his murderous stroke speed pulling the pillow from your face you heaved, sobbing, screaming begging for freedom. “Shut the fuck up!” It could’ve been the tears, or haze of pain, but this wasn’t your friend anymore.

Taehyung’s face as contorted in sick pleasure inconsiderate of your wellbeing he gripped your hips fucking into you aggression never seen before. “T-Tae please we’re friends don’t hurt me!” You cried out for his mercy. “Hold her fucking mouth Min.” He obliged, his hand slick from his own juices. He stood over you griping and jerking his member, keeping his eyes on yours. “Close your damn eyes, your crying is going to make me soft.” That only made you cry more, the treatment you were getting from Taehyung caused an ache you couldn’t help but sob from. “It i-it fucking hurts!” You let the filth spill from your mouth as you groaned with every thrust, your statement muffed by Yoongi’s palm.

“Close. Them. Now.” Stubbornly you kept staring, you won’t obey them, friends aren’t supposed to to hurt you, ever. “Ahh fuck.” Yoongi began to vandalize your face, removing his hand from your mouth pulling your hair to aim for your mouth. “Ah shit shit.” He continued to stroke grumbling heinous names under his breath. “My eyes please help me momma,it hurts momma!” He’d spurted right in your eye and he knew it. “I told you to close them idiotic bitch, you obey us you’ll be alright.” He took your discarded panties wiping your eye.

You didn’t listen to his angered grumblings...She didn’t respond, she left you to suffer, you were being naughty and she could hear and she left you to suffer. The pain in your eye became dull as you became numb to Taehyung’s assault. “She left you, that bitch left you in here to get fucked, and you’re going to take everything we give thanks to mommy dearest...no one is going to rescue you.” Yoongi growled I’m your ear, you turned from him. His seed still rests on your pained features.

Taehyung pushed his thumbs roughly into your abdomen making you cry out. “Your cunt is still so tight, mm fuck stop clenching like that- I’m gonna fucking- oh shit.” He sent his seed deep into you, the sensation was sickening you began to dry heave having nothing in you to throw up. “Throwing up sweetheart?” You ignored his false concern, he gripped your hair. “Think twice before you do, you’ll be cleaning it with that pretty mouth every drop.”

Your face drenched in tears, snot and slobber, and the seed of another, you lay in defeat. He pulled his member for your stinging and burning feeling settled between your legs. “Nice job, you’ve beat her bloody.” Jin grumbled coming near, your entrance oozed a mixture of his cum and blood from your lost innocents. His finger brushed against your puffy injured vulva, “please no no nooo!” You instinctively backed away from the contact.

“My turn princess.” Your eyes closed, you could tell it was Jimin planning his attack. “Please Jimin, you’re still my friend right?” You Sobbed to weakly to even look into his eyes, Jimin had to put an end to it or it wouldn’t end at all. “I treat all my girlfriends this way, hm don’t worry baby it won’t hurt-” you heard him wander closer, “just open up.” You refused, turning your head away from his voice, “Ah y/n don’t be that way.” He slightly scolded pulling you back his way by your jaw, “open your mouth y/n.” You opened your eyes, glaring at him, your right eye blurring and irritated. He rubbed his member along your pursed lips. “No?” He leaned over, his member in his over hand. “Open. The. Fuck! Up.” He slapped your pussy harshly with every word, already sore you cried out, begging for mercy.

He took the opportunity, plunging his cock down your throat, gagging you choked and cried. “Yah stupid Bitch watch your teeth!” He gripped the back of your head, another agonizing ordeal. Your throat was sore from the screaming and now your throat was being rubbed roughly by Jimin’s third leg. “I’m gonna c-cum, and you’re gonna swallow all of it and you’re gonna keep it down.”

You couldn’t protest, you got used just as before you closed your eyes and prayed for it to be over as quick as it started. Hoseok neared you like a predator, “careful she’s sore.” You opened your eyes quickly, he had his pants completely off, his member erect his shirt open his sculpted body on display. You sobbed around jimins member as he took his time fucking himself into you. “I’m not putting my prick I that mess.” He referred to your battered entrance, he placed his clock between your folds, rubbing himself their. Even the subtle pressure gave you discomfort, “hey! Watch those fucking teeth slut!” Jimin beat the back of your head, picking up his pace.

“She sounds so fucking nasty.” Namjoon pulled himself out of his trousers “choking and gagging, fucking whore I wouldn’t fuck you even if your mom offered all the money she owed.” Namjoon insulted, pulling closer, “what an asshole.” Jimin grunted in retaliation. “This is all you’ll get from me.” Namjoon leaned over you, assaulting you relieving himself on your quaking body. “You sick bastard!” They found Namjoon’s action sickly humorous. He moved to your face, you tried to stop breathing in fear of inhaling it. Warmly it dribbled over you. “I bet you fucking enjoyed it.”

Jimin pushed your damp head down on him as he exploded in your mouth, that scene being all he needed to find his high. His seed was salty and less sweet; he tasted repulsive. You gagged as he removed himself, you leaned over the bed in utter pain heaving. “AHT HEY!” Taehyung cupped your mouth, “swallow be a good girl.” He rolled you back, you tried but your body refused, you gagged against his musty palm. Jimin pinched your nose “take it, take it, take it!” Air became scarce, you gulped ingesting his warm seed, the taste blanketed your throat.

They let you breathe, Hoseok found his release on your tummy, scooping it with his agile fingers he force fed you. “Please...n-no...more.” “Shut up, your breath reeks.” Your stomach flipped, you were going to be sick soon. “Roll her over.” Jin instructed, and of course they followed you let them do as they please, not like you could stop them. “Your pussy is beautiful, but I love a nice ass.” He unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall. Spitting vulgarly, stroking himself. “Bite the pillow.” He pulled you up by your waist. Using his thumb he rimmed you.

Getting positioned he spit on your hole. The room was quiet. “Bite it hard.” He pushed himself mercilessly barely breaking through, “tight little bitch.” Your screeching earsplitting You’d become unconscious soon the pain was excruciating, you knew you were bleeding. “Please! I’ll do anything!Please not this, no more of this!” Finally he bottomed you out, “this is what love feels like, hmph remember that.” Jin growled fucking into you barely able to keep a pace.

Your vision blurred, slurring was your only form of speaking back, covered in piss and cum, tears and snot. Drooling all over yourself like an imbecile, bleeding. They’ve used you out, good for nothing you fell into the void of unconsciousness, sweet relief.

A dull jabbing welcomed you back into the real world, no way was this some sort of  twisted dream the disgusting smell registered back into your senses. The smell was you. “Fucking hell Jungkook finish already.” You’d been sick all over the mattress in your sleep, your mouth stale and stiff.

“I’m so sorry y/n I’m so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” Blinking you looked over your shoulder, tears streamed his rounded face. “Ugh so sorry.” He gagged looking at your abused figure covered in bodily grime. “P-please turn around so it can be over.” Pitying you he held his head down shamefully thrusting to unwanted orgasm. He too filled you warmly pulling out quickly, scurrying to the corner losing his breakfast. “H-hy-'' he retched again. “Let’s go please, let’s leave.” He begged holding his stomach, Jungkook is still your friend, right? You could see he didn’t want to hurt you...

They put their clothes back on lazily.

“Be a peach and tell your mother we’ll be back next month on the dot, hopefully you won’t have to cover her tab two visits in a row huh sweetheart?”

“I hate you, all of you.”

“Ah, but we love you, and we always will.”

(Not my photo)

(Please interact like•reblog•reply it helps sm!)

@minshookie

[quacka-quacka]

I mentioned Paul's strong resistance to being recognized as effeminate man or gay (here). Although he can hang out with gay guys, wear rainbow flag in public [yeah I definitely need to write that again in case someone didn't see it], being considered gay or "cute" is beyond endurance. I know someone love to interpret this as "don't want to his sexuality being mislabeled", which indeed looks sensible when it comes to the homosexuality, but this excuse can't be applied to the "cute" thing, right? You can't say being cute or feminine is the same thing as being gay, can you? Well, I can hear Paul's every single cell screaming O!M!G! Feminine! all the time. He doesn't want himself have anything to do with feminine, which, unfortunately can not be simply regarded as personal preference, it's indeed a despising of femininity, and femininity? Of course it's about female. Yes, "phallicism", the worship of masculine are still popular in today's society, but it doesn't mean it's right. I have to say Paul's thought is the product of this society, not to mention that he is an old man who grow up in a working-class family six decades ago, we can't demand him that much. His attitude towards women is the same thing.

PAUL: We were more amazed to see the [Japanese] women leaping up out of the seats for the promoter, because we'd never seen that in the West. The subservience of the women was amazing. They'd say, 'Oh God, I'm sorry - was I in your seat?' I remember us getting back to Britain and saying to our wives and girlfriends, 'I wouldn't want you to do that, but maybe it's a direction worth considering?' Promptly rejected.

— The Beatles Anthology

Although Paul seems to know that it's pretty cool for a woman to pursue her own career, like admitting Jane was famous before he was, allowing Linda to write a cookbook or have a photography exhibition, the androcentrism is too ingrained for him to forsake. He acknowledged Jane's achievements but still wanted her to give up work completely:

'I always wanted to beat Jane down,' says Paul. 'I wanted her to give up work completely.'

'I refused. I've been brought up to be always doing something. And I enjoy acting. I didn't want to give that up.'

— Hunter Davies, The Beatles

He allowed Linda to do her own thing, but they are not entirely hers - all those projects are belong to MPL, and do not forget Paul said this after Linda's death:

She never did anything on her own because we were together so much. 

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Chrissie Henderson for USA Week-end: Tears and laughter. (October 30, 1998)

That's so sweet to see Paul would support his wife any time, but on the other hand it also shows that Linda never get the chance to do something entirely on her own without Paul's interference after she got married. No wonder so many people from inner circle [including Linda, yeah] described Paul as "typical Northerner":

Linda confided that Paul was a ‘typical Northerner’ who believed women should stay at home while men worked.

— Bonnie Estridge, The Mail on Sunday. (March 20th, 2005)

Paul was raised the old-fashioned way. Men were the breadwinners; women stayed at home, had babies and tea on the table. He's still an old-fashioned guy, very careful with money.

— Ruth McCartney

Like the other Beatles, he [Paul] was essentially an old fashioned Liverpool man, who wanted his woman tucked away at home cooking the dinner and minding the kids.

— Cynthia Lennon, John

Jane was a serious actress and wanted to continue her career, but Paul had other ideas. That’s why Linda was so perfect for Paul; she was just what he wanted, an old-fashioned Liverpool wife who was completely devoted to her husband.

— Marianne Faithfull, Memories, Dreams and Reflections

I'd say Paul was not that old-fashioned, at least he allowed his wife to do other things besides being a full-time nanny, but everything she does must cater his needs. As Jane once mentioned, he always wants his girl to adore him like fans:

The trouble is, he wants the fans’ adulation and mine too. He’s so selfish; it’s his biggest fault. He can’t see that my feelings for him are real and that the fans’ are fantasy.

— Jane Asher, Love Me Do! The Beatles’ Progress by Michael Braun

I know some of the fans can't wait to jump up now and shout "Paul and Jane didn't have a mature relationship!" "He's much mature after he meet Linda!" "Paul and Linda had a very very very healthy relationship!" Ok, if you really did some research, you may know that he's never mature enough to know how to fully respect women, at least before the end of divorce with Heather Mills. I have seen the theory appears too many times that Paul and Linda's marriage is the result of careful consideration: Linda came along with a ready-made child and she's ready to marry again - well, I regret to tell you both Paul and Linda wouldn't agree with you.

I was a great disappointment to my family When I got married [to a geologist] and moved to Arizona, it was crazy. I had been pressured by men all my life. I rather liked being on my own, making my own decisions. I had actually sworn to myself that I would never get married again.

— Linda McCartney, interview for Playgirl: An intimate conversation with pop’s preeminent pair. (February, 1985)

As she says, she's quite enjoy her freedom and had absolutely no interest in marriage. What did Paul do? He "twisted her arm" to make her agree.

I persuaded Linda to come to London for a visit. Then I rang Heather in New York and said, ‘Heather, will you marry me?’ She was five. ‘No, don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘I’m too young.’ ‘Well, I can wait,’ I said. So we went to New York and brought her back to London to live with us, and I twisted Linda’s arm and finally she agreed to marry me.

— Paul McCartney, interview for Playgirl: An intimate conversation with pop’s preeminent pair. (February, 1985)

Linda also said neither of them knew what they were doing when they got married:

LINDA: 'So instead of getting an agent I met Paul instead and got married. Or I was going through a transition then and didn't know quite what I was doing and he obviously didn't know quite what he was doing so we ended up marrying instead.'

— Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now

Again, I'm not saying Paul and Linda never loved each other or their marriage was completely made up for media, but I don't think his marriage with Linda enabled him to prioritize other's feelings [his status as one of the four head monsters doesn't help]. Linda's overmuch unilateral compromises certainty don't make him look mature. Let alone his excessive dependence on her.

------------------

Reply to all these who think feminize Paul/men is a bad thing:

You love to say that Paul doesn't want the cute title because people used to mock him by that. I understand it. But do you ever think about why being feminine is not taking him seriously? Do you ever think about this is the discrimination about femininity from the whole society? Why does a man must be despised when he has anything to do with femininity? And Paul's approach is denying his femininity, which is the same with those who mock it, like - a man being feminine is a shame because it means he can't be "respected" like other men. It's the recognition of this concept, which is outdated if you think about it.

P.S. Someone who reblogged my post doesn't seem to like the sentence "there must be many sweet moments between Paul and Linda". Ok, I delete it then.

[ssson-of-sparda]

Fathers Do Cry (DMC Vergil one shot)

Summary: Vergil remembers his last Father's Day with Sparda and doesn't really realise how similar to him he has become.

Tags: Father's Day special / DADGIL! / Vergil acting like a dad to Nero

Author’s note: I woke up this morning suddenly inspired. Doesn't happen very often so enjoy ;) ps: I just love Dadgil!

***

His big blue eyes staring without blinking, the child was observing his father sitting by the fireplace in the parlour. Full of admiration, he was detailing all the features of his serious face, all the details of his confident posture and all the different luxurious fabrics that made his purple finery and as he did, he repeated to himself, wished, prayed, that someday, one day, he would grow up to be just like him.          “Aren’t you going to speak, Vergil?” The father’s powerful voice asked as he finally acknowledged the boy’s presence with a small amused smile, wondering what brilliant thoughts were occupying his eldest son’s sharp mind this time.            “I made this for you, father.” With a solemnity that didn’t suit a five-years-old but that somehow fitted Vergil’s young yet wise spirit and his will to be perfect son in the eyes of Sparda, the boy handed a paper sheet to his father.         “ And what would that be?” The man said as he took his son’s gift. “It’s father’s day so … I made you a poem… or tried to.” The adorable embarrassment tensing the child’s traits in funny grimaces made the father's smile wider but Vergil, suddenly too preoccupied with the blue paint stuck under his fingernails, didn’t notice it as he didn’t notice the paternal pride and the love shining in his eyes.               “I thought your mother wanted you and your brother to make a gift together this year.” “ You know Dante” Vergil sighed. “He has no artistic talent whatsoever. He wanted to make you a wooden sword to play with us.”    “ That’s actually a very good idea.”  Vergil frowned; suddenly worried that Sparda would not like his gift and preferred Dante’s – if he had made one of course. “Except when the sword looks like two twigs glued together. You should have seen this, father. It looked ri.di.cu.lous.” Sparda laughed at his son’s attitude, finding amusement in this sibling rivalry. “Why don’t you read me your poem then?”              “ I learnt it by heart actually. The paper is for you to remember this day by … and also because I wanted to illustrate it. Look.” Vergil approached his father, seized the poem from his big hands and climbed on his lap to show him the delicate aquarelle he had painted around the lines. “Impressive. Did your mother help you with this?” Vergil shook his head. “No, I did it on my own. I used a book I saw in that old man’s house I often go to as a reference.”       “ The old academic that lives down the hill? I thought you found him boring.” Vergil shook his head again, furiously this time and with a serious frown. “That’s Dante. Me, I really like him. He teaches me a lot of things. And he has lots of books. It’s incredible.”

Sparda ruffled his son’s silver hair whose hairdo was always made in order to somehow mimic his, thinking what a promising young boy Vergil was. Maybe more promising than Dante to be honest – though he knew he shouldn’t think that.   But there was something that Vergil had that Dante lacked. Perhaps rationality beyond his age … or some kind of maturity … wisdom maybe? He couldn’t really pinpoint what it was exactly. All he knew is that it was something unique and special, just like his son, something that made Sparda certain that one day his eldest would grow up to be a great man, a man greater than him, a man worthy of the Yamato and capable of handling its burdening power.

“Can I recite my poem now?” Sparda smiled at the sparkle in Vergil’s eyes. “Sure.” The boy quickly took back his previous position in front his father, cleared his throat, put his hands behind his back and stuck out his chest.

Sparda listened to every word, fascinated and amazed by his little one’s talent and profoundly moved by all the love, all the meticulousness and the time he put in each line and in each word. “Oh Vergil. The world is not yet ready for someone like you.” The father said as he let a tear roll down his cheek. “Why are you crying, father?” Vergil worried. “Because fathers cry, my son.”

That day was the last time Vergil truly celebrated Father’s day for a few weeks later he had no father, no one to make poems to, no one to admire by the fireplace. Just a memory that he feared would sooner or later fade but that he would cling to dearly for as long as he could.

“Why don’t we bring flowers to Daddy’s statue in the park today?” Eva asked when Vergil was six, when Vergil was seven, when Vergil was eight only to be welcome by a heavy silence that was no longer hiding brilliant thoughts but a painful sadness. But each time he did as Eva suggested, maybe more for her than for him, maybe because he still loved and admired Sparda even if he had left him, maybe because he thought that his father might see him and smile from wherever he was now, the same way he had smiled when he had read him his poem on his last father’s day.

And that’s certainly why, more than three decades later, he was back in this park, on this very special day with a bouquet of purple peonies he had bought on his way here and a memory that never faded. A memory he could still recite.

"Whether the sun shines or the sky cries,                 Whether the day breaks or the night wakes,       My father always as a rampart stands Protecting my house with his bare hands.

He is strong, he is brave                 And the day he always saves.     A knight in cockroach armor     To scare my terror away."

Vergil scoffed at the lines, at the way they rolled off his tongue, finding them funny and childish and not worthy of a Blake or a Fielding at all unlike what he thought when he wrote them as a child. The over-confidence of youth probably.

“Did you just come up with that?” Vergil turned around to see Nero walking towards him with a smirk. A surprise but not a bad one. “Cause the rhyming sucks a little. I expected more of you.”                “ And I suppose you’re an expert in poetry now?”         “ I may read have read one of your books.” He said as he tapped the pocket of his marine blue coat hiding Vergil's most sacred book with pride. “You still have it I see.”     “Hey! It’s a real page turner! Can’t get my nose out of it.” Vergil had a crooked smile, understanding perfectly what his son meant.

Son? Even a year after this reveal he still couldn’t believe this boy before him, the one he had lived such a terrifying yet incredible adventure with, was his own flesh and blood.

A sigh almost escaped Vergil’s lips. How did he make such a fine young man? Someone so selfless, so generous, so loving when he was nothing like that.              “ What are you doing here, Nero?” He asked, trying not to think more about this.      “ Well it’s father’s day, no? So … I made you something… or tried to.” The embarrassed grimace Nero suddenly made made Vergil’s smile grew larger but Nero, too worried to keep the gift covered with the pieces of newspapers he had taped together, didn’t see it as he didn’t see the paternal pride and the love shining in his father’s blue eyes. The same paternal pride Sparda had displayed when Vergil was a little child with a small paper in his hands.  “Thank you Nero.” The man said as he gently took the present from his son's hands, wondering what it was even though the long shape didn’t leave much place for imagination.

He cautiously unwrapped the thing, already feeling a happiness he hadn’t felt in years warming his heart. And when he saw a katana-like wooden sword that purposely looked like Yamato he couldn’t help but smile and let a tiny drop of water blur his blue eyes. “It was Dante’s idea. Though he might have suggested gluing two sticks together.” Nero said as he scratched his head. “It looks amazing.” Vergil’s honesty was like a knife in Nero’s chest but in a good way. It was as if all the stress and all the stupid fear he had felt while making this toy sword had been stabbed away. He felt relieved, joyful even that his always so stern father was genuinely grateful and seemed to appreciate his gift. “That way, you won’t have to tear my arm apart again cause look, you have two now.” Nero tried to joke but his words just erased the smile on Vergil’s face.

“There is not a single day I don't regret what I did to you.” This was Vergil’s way to say he was sorry. Nero was certain of it. He didn’t need to know his father that well to know it. After all, he was somewhat the same. “Hey, it’s in the past. Plus it grew back, so no harm done.” He winked, trying to ease the atmosphere with a bad pun worthy of Dante even though there was a time he would have ripped Vergil’s chest open for what he had done. And a part of him knew he would never forget and maybe never fully forgive what happened.               But right now he was just happy to have a family, to have a father and to finally be able to celebrate a day he has so long hated.  “ This world doesn’t deserve you, son.” Vergil solemnly declared. He had never called Nero that way and that name felt strange yet beautiful to both of them. It made the son and the father smile in ways they never thought they would smile at each other. “ Damn, are you crying old man? I thought devils never cry.” Nero suddenly harrumphed when he finally noticed the water growing in his father's eyes.                   “ Well, fathers do cry." Vergil declared as he allowed a tear of joy and pride to fall along his pale cheek. The first in a very very long time but one he will never regret or brush away. "Father do cry.” He repeated with a glance at the statue of his father behind him.

[sjw-publishings]

A Le’Silver Lining

Based on a story from Midas Touch, by @dumb-and-jocked

“Finish up pronto, or you’re fired.”

Aden sighed, he really wanted to get that promotion, the next step up the corporate ladder, but because of some desperate plea of a ‘millennial-life crisis’, he ended up revealing to his incredibly hot Boss...hoping he had been closeted this entire time.

He was wrong.

Recalling the many words and verbal insults from the strict CEO, it was far from a ‘privilege’ throughout these past few years.

And to be paid a similar wage while handling this douchebag’s laundry is just the icing on the cake.

All he wanted to do was to head towards the top with a faithful partner, but instead his arrogant boss reduced him to some laundry ‘boy’. He was in his mid 20s and treated like some joke.

“This is humiliating!”

Stuffing in the last few piles of clothes, he grumbled, but not too loud just in case his boss spied on him. Turning on the laundry machine as it whirled, done for the day...though not for long knowing how unreasonable that homophobe was.

Folding his arms, pocketing the white gloves he had to wear. As the douche puts it, ‘so he won’t catch the gay’. He rubbed his palms all over his youthful face, trying to contain himself from tearing over his demotion a couple of hours ago, hoping there will be a way to get some power back.

*Shone*

From the corner of his eye came a glint of something shiny, alone at the corner of the clothes basket was a singular watch, which was without a doubt very costly.

Not like his boss’s that shone gold, but rather one of silver. ‘A promising shine...yet dull’. One of the many insults that alpha would arrogantly scoff at him.

“Better polish this before he starts complaining about it.”

As he said that, he grabbed a cloth that appeared to his side and began polishing the accessory. Not realising how the watch voluntarily attached itself to his wrist as his eyes were laser focused on polishing the silver lining.

Le Silver Lining.

His fingernails began trimming themselves short, hands were bigger and more worn...yet eloquent. The changes trailed down his arms, tightening his biceps with lean muscle of a servant who had been tasked with numerous duties beyond laundry.

The boss eventually demanded more from him after all, as the shirt he wore had split into two, the lower layer ironing itself to his chest, sculpting his abdominals to six stones as two modest arches formed the front side of his chest, tightening as the solid foundation gets filled with pectoral muscle.

Starch blue Sleeves rolling down to his wrists, regaining the familiarity of a buttoned down as the upper layer rested over him like a navy suit jacket. He had to look presentable always, even if he was Mr. Conrad’s servant, especially when he had visitors.

Of course, his snobbish boss was always in control, living under his roof meant a rigid schedule with tons of tasks always needing to be done. Buttocks tightening...ensuring there will be no time for any poking from behind.

“He did give me some leeway though.”

Connecting his legs, as the stress pitched a tent beneath his trousers, which shifted to a more expensive quality that he missed, tightening on those knees in dark blue like his suit jacket, as he stood tall over 6ft, slightly shorter than his boss...but definitely the height of a man who was in charge of many things.

The man in the older twenties nodded, as with every swipe, the new reality of his situation became clearer and clearer.

His pouch rested comfortably in those briefs, which came with the uniform ‘to set ‘boys’ straight’ as so he proclaims. Being dedicated to his boss meant he had no time for a long term relationship, seeing men less and being forced to chat with women.

Though with the amount of ladies chatting with him....

“He has been exceptionally generous.”

Huffing out an arrogant flair, starting to appreciate his employer. Yes, he was bi-curious, nothing too serious though, at least with the men.

Plus the watch was, after all, a symbol of gratitude and position from the older male. Despite the consistent banter during his first few years, he really grew on him despite the excessive homophobia.

Because, it was as his boss said, working under him was a privilege.

Both things, he too had inherited from his long time boss. He did serve under him over 16 years, and while Conrad was demanding, he was absolutely generous, as long as one fits into his mould.

Which its something he slid on in perfectly.

“Still, not really my type, no?”

The age gap was less than a decade, but he was not interested in such acts with the man. Putting his foot down, shoes being polished into a prim and proper wing-tip, strictly professional like their relationship.

The strictness was something he did admire in a superior, alongside the pompous arrogance, he probably wouldn’t date the man even if he were gay! Despite it being so arou-

“Non non...what am I thinking?!”

His voice deepened, darkened. His nose wrinkled in disgust, disapproval to his more...’immature’ ways. Aging out to a matured thirty eight, as his skin took on a more elegant and healthy glow. Raised in the life of the wealthy, but with the humility of a servant.

They were simply, Sir and b...Monsieur. A Boss and his trusted butler, a respectable relationship between gentlemen.

Standing up straight, a posture he maintained throughout his years at the CEO’s house, shoulders filling up nicely on his uniform, buttocks being disciplined shut as though he vehemently made a decision to stay far from those kind of acts.

And of course, this choice was made solely on his own.

“Unacceptable, no?”

Smirking to himself, recalling the many rants from Sir Conrad about ‘faguettes’ and how disrespectful youths nowadays were, and the many nights they had fine women over as a result.

Giving a few combs to his hair, tight and thorough hairspray glued his slicked back cut to his scalp, maintaining it since he started as one of the servants in the mansion, the prim and proper look for someone who belonged underneath his employer, yet dashing enough to stand out for the ladies.

And of course, he had a level of authority unlike the supervisors of his boss’s company. Bringing his palm to his face, brushing against the dark brown bristles, stubbles, beard on his chin down to a more concentrated ‘chin strap’ as the locals call it.

Jaw sharpening itself to a cleft, moustache dressing above his upper lip, trimmed and twirled to the ideas from the CEO, with a modest patch of fuzz below his lower lip, mirroring his superior’s well groomed moustache.

Like a shadow, he would do as his employer says, and behave like him...with a Parisian twist.

The experienced servant giving a few final swipes to the watch with ease as the polished beam shone into his eyes, lenses. A pair of rectangular spectacles framed his new perspective, with utmost appreciation to his employer.

Brows arching downward, trimming away any resistance to the loyal affluence of the frenchman’s dark brown eyes. Pocketing away his hankerchief, he turned on the washing machine and made his way to the living room with a pre-prepared cart of treats.

Knowing, according to his watch, its tea time.

“As expected as always, Monsieur.”

Antoine bowed down to his waist, proud of his accomplishment of being second in command to the CEO of C.O.N. Corporations. And while he may not have a title like the fine gentlemen sitting at the boardroom, the Butler had more say in who stays than any of them ever could.

That enough was of satisfaction to the eloquent Parisian.

“Now if you would excuse us, we would like to have the rest of the afternoon undisturbed until a quarter past nine...”

As his boss said that, a fancy looking Madame climbed on top of him, and initiated an intense make out session like every other evening after a special occasion.

“Understood sir, enjoy your session.”

The french butler walked on auto pilot out of the room, leaving them to their heterosexual pursuits. Of course, while he was a fellow ladies man, he wasn’t going to steal the spotlight from his boss. He wasn’t a ‘boy’, but a ‘Monsieur’, and besides...

“Heehee~”

There was someone far more interesting on the staircase...

A french maid, dressed loosely in that typical frilly attire, winked at him. That cheeky vixen...she was literally asking to be painted, pulling his attention from his multitude of assignments to be done, and onto her.

Alas, the ladies do come first, his boss always encouraged his many trysts with women across the mansion, as long as he did a clean job.

And this blonde was no exception, most definitely another generous reward from Sir Conrad, something his eyes savoured by examining those pillows on her mattress.

Removing his glasses, he gave a dashing look at the lady, and daringly spoke.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle, Coffee, Tea, or me?”

[emotionallyits2009]

deancas fic rec list!

hello everyone! happy christmas to those who celebrate it, my gift to you is my fic rec list that i said i would make like a month ago. the only thing it is organized by is canonverse vs alternate universe. tried to cover a variety of subjects but there are in particular many fics of the genre “postcanon where cas is human and he and dean live together and slowly finally get their shit together” because i know what i’m about, son. HOPE U ENJOY. and if you wanna talk about any of them or rec me other fics please do. :) 

Canonverse:

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo, 30k, explicit “Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.” There are many fics set in a post-canon universe where Cas is human and he and Dean live together and slowly fall into a relationship. Imo this one is the best of the best of that genre. This was one of the first fics I read back in July when I was getting Back Into Supernatural where I was like oh fuck I’m like in this. Dean builds Cas planters and bookshelves and a chicken coop and they fight and work through it.

Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits, 10k, explicit For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. Really Gets the dynamic of Cas doesn’t think Dean wants him to stay/Dean thinks Cas will leave the first chance he gets. Also a nice example of Cas thinking he’s not wanted if he’s not useful/powerful and being told otherwise. Another all-time fave!

lonely hearts by outphastthemoat, 4.5k, gen He thinks he might give up having his own anything just to be able to step foot inside the room next door and sit on the edge of Dean’s bed instead. This one is for the CAS GIRLS who know what LONELINESS feels like.

Helionneiros by aeli_kindara, 24.2k, mature In which Dean visits his mother, and Claire takes Cas on a hunt. I’m always on the lookout for more fic with Claire and Jack. Jack doesn’t show up until the end here but the relationship between Cas and Claire is really nice.

Crawl by aeriallon, 11k, explicit It’s been almost four years since Castiel left Kansas; he'd eventually settled in an island town where he has a job, a house, and a life without the Winchesters. Every winter, Dean drives down to the coast to see him. Another fic where Cas is human but in this one he took some time for himself and got some distance from the Winchesters! He gets to be competent and weird as a human and we love that for him. I must warn you all that this fic contains one use of the phrase “making love” which would normally put me right off but it’s still worth reading. The first of a three-part series.

home where you hold me by microcomets, 1.6k, gen Cas and Dean, in the moments between their battles, ache for quiet spaces. Technically this is a coda to 10x20 but you don’t need the episode for context. Short and very sweet.

Build a Home by domesticadventures, 20.1k, teen After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them. He doesn’t. This one is so cute it’s like what if once they were done saving the world Sam and Dean actually invited other hunters to move into the bunker with them. Obviously Dean wants that to include Cas but doesn’t know how to use his words.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo, 22.4k, explicit This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore. Angst fic! They go on a road trip and Dean is severely fucked up post-Mark of Cain.

Unknown Quantities by xylodemon, 8.6k, explicit No one ever tells Dean anything. Another nice getting-together fic.

Creature of Habit by trinityofone, 5.2k, teen The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well. This one is ancient by destiel standards (written during season 5) but it manages to nail the married couple vibes they give off in later seasons. Cas is a bitch and Dean likes him so much. <3

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by Tuesday, 11.2k, mature Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this. Another old one that is a lot of fun! They get Accidental Angel Married and if you don’t enjoy dumb fanfiction tropes like that I don’t know what to say to you.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi, 4k, teen In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything. The OTHER accidental angel marriage fic written in 2010. 

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord, 24.8k, explicit A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there. At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history. Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe. Time travel is FUN. There’s an excellent part where (minor spoilers) future!Dean is like, “Guess what, asshole? You like me so much you marry me!!!!!!!!!!!” to 2008!Castiel that made me laugh out loud the first time I read it. Also just a good reminder of how most problems in life are temporary and if you could go back in time to talk to your younger self you’d be like, “Hey man. Chill out. You get through it.”

The Path of Fireflies by museaway, 63.7k, mature After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years. There’s a lot of amnesia fic and djinn fic out there were Dean wakes up ~suddenly together with Cas~ but I like this one in particular because he’s initially very confused and kind of a dick about it until he acknowledges that being with Cas makes him happy.

take the long way home by dothraki_shieldmaiden, 95k, explicit Three months ago, when Dean decided to retire, he thought his life was going to end up differently. He'd thought that he might get to have it all, Sam, Cas, Jack, and nice little place to live. Instead he gets Sam and Jack off on their Summer of Love Tour, radio silence from Cas, and a never-ending road trip consisting of himself. Still reeling from the loss of his grace, Castiel travels the country in search of hunts. Driven by a need to prove his usefulness, he pushes himself beyond all limits of endurance. Together, with the help of a few friends, a crumbling Victorian house, and a stray cat, Dean and Castiel patch themselves back together and create a home together. Do you wanna read almost one hundred thousand words of Dean and Cas having extremely intense feelings but refusing to voice them aloud? Haha of course you do that’s why you’re here. There’s also a lot about Cas adjusting to being human and being depressed about it which might resonate if you’ve ever felt weird about having a body. To be honest the author could stand to use a few more commas but there were also half a dozen moments that made me put my phone down and drag my hand slowly over my face and whisper “oh my god” to myself which is like, the ultimate measure of a good fanfiction so it gets to be on the list.

like moses and batman and james dean by saltyfeathers, 31.6k, explicit dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas. Have you seen the fanon (apparently pioneered by Mr. Jackles “Original Deankin” Ackles himself) that Dean used to prostitute himself to feed himself and Sam when they were younger? Are you interested in exploring that concept in fanfiction? Well, this is the only fic you need. Mind the tags on this one! It’s not what I’d call happy but it’s good.

Some Assembly Required by narrow_staircases, 47k, mature It’s September of 2005, and Dean Winchester, in an attempt to outrun old mistakes and painful memories, finds himself in southern Kentucky on a wild goose chase. He’s completely certain this weird religious movement he’s “investigating” is a hoax, despite the miraculous healings people report, and he’ll be back on the road in a day or two. Things are looking up when he meets Cas, an awkward (and gorgeous) graduate student who’s actually doing honest-to-god research into the local tent revival meetings. When that research takes a weird and personal turn, Dean’s left to face two very serious realities: one, this may be a real case after all, and two, he’s fallen way harder for Cas than he should ever have let himself. Stanford-era AU of Dean trying to avoid his father and getting in over his head on a case.

Alternate universe:

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets, 57k, mature Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The  professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen. Mundane AUs in this fandom have to be really, really good to catch my attention and this one is! It’s exactly what it says in the summary and the characterization is spot-on. 

Out to Drift by deathbanjo, 20.9k, mature Dean drives a black car with a loud engine. He lies too easily. He keeps a gun in the back of his jeans, and Castiel isn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Dean has killed someone before. Two people in fucked-up unstable situations meeting and forming a connection. Honestly guys I really just love deathbanjo.