#not that I would know the version I saw was the sub

[amplexadversary]

Holy shit

Just taking control of the headless body like that huh?

...

I need to hear all the anime jokes people have about this episode.

Telescope Toppling AeorMaton?

Trojan Trickery Grandmaster Letters?

Has Sam even heard of Gainax? Surely he’s been exposed to super robot stuff through his job, right?

[laegolas]

what I imagine the Lions locker room looks like right now:

[keigosdear]

{bad idea... right? - kuroo t.}

yes I know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?//…I just tripped and fell into his bed.

kuroo x fem!reader smut. exes to lovers. 18+ MDNI please.

in which you and your ex "reconnect" after almost half a year apart, but with so many unresolved feelings, it'll either end up being the best or worst idea you've ever had.

warnings: fem!reader, no physical description (aside from specific genitalia ofc). university setting. smut, mentions of alcohol/getting drunk but no drunk sex, lots of feelings/kinda mutual pining. praise kink, a little bit of voice kink, very brief jealous reader, cunnilingus, body worship, teasing, lots of pet names in lieu of y/n, soft dom!kuroo and sub!reader, very. very. soft, kinda emotional sex, aftercare and fluff towards the end. porn with a bit of plot/build up. this fic is my baby.

a trope I never thought I'd write plus a genre I've never written before? apparently so. it's my first time writing smut, so constructive criticism is welcomed, being rude is not. can you believe I started this over the summer ‘23 and I'm only posting it now?

and lmk if I need to add anything else to the warnings :)

divider credit to: @/cafekitsune

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

this truly had the potential to be one of your worst ideas yet.

you weren't even going to be at this damn party to begin with, but your friend finally convinced you to go with her after a week of wearing you down.

"it'll be fun, c'mon!" she begged.

the only reason you didn't want to go was because you were finally done with your first semester of classes and wanted to wind down in peace, not at a crowded house party filled with loud music and sweaty drunk university students.

but of course you relented when she pulled out the puppy dog eyes and played the "but we haven't hung out in months, I miss you!" card.

so there you were by the snacks and refreshments table, dressed up and nursing a drink, talking and laughing with your friends. truthfully, you were having a better time than you thought you would and figured that you had almost a month before classes started back up again to relax.

"soooo? has anyone caught your eye yet?" multiple faces focused their attention on you.

you knew part of the reason your friend had insisted on you going with her was to help you meet someone. she'd never admit it, but it was pretty obvious with the way she was pointing out people left and right, making note of how attractive they were. at one point she had even "accidentally" pushed you into one of her targets, which had made for some very awkward small-talk on your end with someone you had zero interest in and some giggling from her.

it's not that you were opposed to the idea of finding someone, but in all honesty, no one had caught your eye. recently you had gotten out of a long long term relationship, and starting over after that just seemed so... unappealing to you.

it also seemed unfair to start anything new when you were very much not over him. breaking up in the middle of the semester had made it really easy for you to push down any emotions and throw yourself into your studies. but it didn't change the fact that you missed him. even now, the party acted as a good distraction for you.

or so you thought.

you were about to respond when your phone buzzed. you looked down and your heart leapt into your throat when you saw the contact name.

it felt strange seeing it as "kuroo" rather than some version of his given name or a pet name. once you hit the one minute mark of just staring at the text notification in shock, your friend peeked over your shoulder and gasped a little.

"you didn't block him?!"

you snatched your phone out of her hand after she stole it to show your group of friends.

"why would I? it's not like we hate each other."

and it was true- you both ended amicably (though very reluctantly). you only ever wanted the best for each other, and while it was sad, you realized that at this point in your lives with how busy you both were, you weren't able to offer that anymore.

you’d rather this than end things resenting each other.

still, it was a hard pill to swallow, so for now you were just holding it on your tongue, letting the bitter taste of the coating settle instead.

she frowned. "well yeah, but-"

you cut her off before she could bring up the very emotions you were ignoring in that moment and shoved your phone back in your pocket. "c'mon, let's go dance!"

later, though, when you excused yourself to the bathroom, the first thing you did was down your second drink and read the text.

hey.

do you want to come over?

you stared at the messages for another minute, reading and re-reading them over and over again before sighing. being with him for years meant you knew him like the back of your hand, and he wasn't one for casual hook ups or one night stands. you hadn't even heard from him in a few months- this was the first bit of contact you'd had with him since you cleaned out your drawer of clothes at his place.

which meant he was either drunk and missing you or someone was playing a prank and you'd just end up a fool.

seriously weighing the options in front of you, trying not to let your emotions overpower your decision making, you attempted to think about the long term consequences of going over.

no matter how you spun it, it sounded like a bad idea. even if he did send the texts, there was no guarantee he wanted anything out of it.

but you were too tipsy for logic at that point in the night, and if you were being honest with yourself, you were in need of some excitement.

yeah.

I'll send my new address.

wait, he moved?

despite being together for so long, the two of you never ended up living together, opting for dorms and student houses with friends. still, you did spend a lot of time at his old place, and before the breakup you had even talked about the possibility of moving in together after the current school year was done.

you didn't linger on the sour feelings that brought up and instead decided to let your friends know you were leaving. when they asked where you were going, you spun some lie about not feeling well and wanting to head home before you got worse. you didn't really care if they believed you or not.

checking the address he had sent you once more, you made your way out of the house and were pleasantly surprised to realize it wasn't that far of a walk, especially since you were wearing uncomfortable party shoes.

you sipped on the bottle of water you swiped form the refreshment table and tried to sober up a bit more before seeing him. you weren't a hundred percent sure what would happen once you got there, but it was a good idea to be prepared for anything.

eventually you made it up to his apartment, which was in another student housing building off campus, bigger than his old place, and took a moment to compose yourself.

there was still time to turn back and make an excuse for why you bailed.

there was still time to think it through.

there was still time to save yourself from the possibility of more pain.

you took a deep breath and knocked on the door anyway.

not even five seconds later, the door was opening and you were face to face with your ex boyfriend.

you took him in for the first time in months- really took him in. sure, you'd seen his instagram posts since breaking up, but you could only zoom in so far on those. and fine, maybe your friends had tried to set you up with people they had deemed "much hotter", but you never saw the appeal. you couldn't even remember any of their faces in that moment, because kuroo was right there.

his hair was the same as always, slightly messier than usual, exactly how it looked whenever he (or you) would run his hands through it on a particularly stressful day.

had he been stressed about the text? did he regret it?

he was dressed somewhat casually, in a dark red shirt you recognized as part of a birthday gift you gave him one year (you had always liked the colour red on him). he was wearing black sweatpants and his socks were mismatched.

everything about him was familiar, and you hated the way a feeling of ease settled over you when he finished his own analysis of you and gave a boyish, almost giddy grin. "hi."

his voice was warm and gave you butterflies. there was an undertone of excitement in his greeting and it quelled your worries about him regretting the texts.

you decided to smile back, though somewhat shyly (which you inwardly scolded yourself for), and spoke up. "hi."

he didn't let the silence that followed settle into awkwardness. he opened the door a bit wider, and welcomed you in. ever the gentleman, he took your coat and and helped you balance as you took your shoes off. you tried to ignore how warm and gentle his touch was, how it made you immediately crave more.

you made your way into the living room and took everything in. there were empty cans and shot glasses littered across the room, mostly concentrated on the coffee table. you thought you heard him swear under his breath when he looked at the mess as well.

"did you have a party?" you asked, now close enough to smell a bit of alcohol on him.

he shook his head and looked a bit embarrassed. "ah, no..." he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and sighed. "my roommates went out with some friends tonight and decided to pre-game here. I went back to my room before they left because I didn't feel like drinking too much and assumed they'd clean up a bit..."

you nodded in understanding. "wishful thinking, huh?"

he chuckled. "yeah, guess so," he said, then gestured to an empty spot on the couch. "sit, I'll just get some of this out of the way quickly."

"oh, I can help-" you tried to offer but he waved you off.

"don't worry about it. I'm the one who invited you into a sloppy apartment, you shouldn't have to clean up a mess that isn't yours."

you snorted and watched as he shoved a ton of cans into the decorative waste bin by the sofa and took some glasses to the sink in the kitchen. "says the one who's cleaning up a mess that isn't his."

you heard him laugh at your words and the butterflies erupted in your stomach again. you hadn't realized how much you missed that sound. suddenly your mind wandered back to the reason behind his invitation. you'd be alone tonight?

once he returned from the kitchen and sat down next to you, you talked for a bit. he caught you up on the moving situation (him and a few friends found an opening for the second semester, so they decided to jump on it and try to stay until grad, hopefully. he made a joke about trying to make friends with the landlord). you listened closely, trying not to make it obvious you were hanging off his every word.

when he was done, you caught him up on your life and how you were at a party when he texted. he apologized for interrupting and you told him a little too fast not to be, which he seemed pleased with.

after a while, he asked if you wanted to watch a movie. you agreed, though you were starting to get impatient. you knew he wasn't the type of guy to ever expect anything from anyone, but the curiosity was eating you alive. you couldn't help but finally ask him about it halfway through the movie.

"hey... why did you invite me tonight?"

he didn't seem surprised by your question, which told you he was probably expecting it. (it was silly of you to think he couldn't tell when something was on your mind after years together and only months apart.)

he took a deep breath in and looked down at his lap. while he didn't look outwardly nervous, you knew him well enough to know what his tells were. he picked at a thread on his pants, trying to compose himself before dropping the bomb.

"because I missed you." he looked you in the eye and then continued. "a lot. and you can take that however you'd like. I'll let you decide."

you blinked at him. he'd let you decide? the way he said it implied that he missed you, missed you. not just missed having you in his life, not just as a friend- he missed you.

you would be nothing but a liar if you said you hadn't missed him too. and you knew that the feeling of security and familiarity you experienced earlier wasn't just nostalgia or your own unresolved feelings. if that were the case, you wouldn't be feeling this comfortable on the couch with him. you wouldn't be able to pretend things were normal between you as easily as you had been all night.

kuroo still very much felt like home, and you didn't want to let him go ever again. there was only one way for you to take his declaration.

"can I..." you looked into his eyes and tried not to drown in them. "can I kiss you?"

he looked relieved at your words and eagerly nodded. "please."

you leaned forward and feverishly crashed your lips against his as soon as the word left his mouth. he raised one hand to cup your cheek and pulled you closer to him by your thigh with the other, not once breaking away from you.

soon you were straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, quiet noises releasing into the air around you both. you moved a hand up the back of his neck, into his hair, and he groaned slightly into your mouth.

you giggled into the kiss, happy to see you still knew what got him going.

as if either of you could forget- it was muscle memory at that point. just like you'd never forget how to ride a bike, you'd never forget how to make the other feel good.

eventually you both had to pull away and fill your lungs again, but you were close enough that your foreheads touched and your breaths mixed.

it was quiet aside from some light panting, so you decided to break that silence with a confession of your own. "I missed you too, tetsurou. so much."

now, you weren't sure if it was what you said or how you said it, but as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt something hard pressing against the area between your legs and gasped a little.

your eyes opened and you pulled your face away just enough to look at him properly. your eyes met his and his face was tinged pink. "I- I'm sorry... we don't... if you don't want to..." he mumbled, not sure how to gage your reaction to this sudden development.

you kissed him again, softer this time to reassure him, and smiled a bit when you pulled away. "I want to, tetsu."

he let out a relieved sigh and smiled at you in turn, then glanced over at the door. "I have no idea when they'll be back... do you want to continue this in my room?" his eyes slowly and hopefully made their way back to yours.

you nodded and squealed a bit when he suddenly scooped you up in his arms, smile growing wider as he made his way to his bedroom.

and that’s how you got here- cutting to when he gently sets you down on the bed, and you scoot back a bit to lay down comfortably. quickly following, his body covers yours and he begins kissing you again.

your arms instinctively move, one wrapping around his broad shoulders, the other cupping his cheek as you move your lips against his. his own hands, now free due to the fact that he’s propped up on one of his forearms, caress your waist and the the top of your head respectively.

after a few minutes of him focusing on your lips, he starts making his way down your neck. they’re feather light kisses at first to make you giggle, but eventually he finds the sensitive spot he always loved to mark up and the sweet sounds turn into shallow, shuddery breaths.

you whine as soon as he starts sucking on it and you bring your hand up from his cheek to his hair. "mmn... tetsu..."

he pulls away just enough so that you can still feel his lips against your flesh as he trails them up your neck to hover just over your ear. "you have no idea," he breathes out, voice low and far more erotic than you think he intended, "how much I've missed this."

you shudder and turn your face away at the tingly sensation, but the hand on your waist darts up to tilt your chin back in his direction. one thing you always appreciated about kuroo was how tenderly he handled you, no matter the tone of your late night endeavors. he was always gentle with you- not in a way that made you feel fragile, but rather in a way that told you he truly cared for you, treasured you, adored you.

the idea that this is still the case turns you on even more and makes your brain go a bit fuzzy.

when your eyes met his once more, you could see that adoration pooling in them. “look at me, sweetheart.”

you nodd slightly in his firm, yet still very soft grasp and keep your eyes trained on his. you could feel yourself getting wet as they trail over your face, and you swear your entire body feels warm as he gives you a rare type of smile only reserved for times like these.

he leans in to kiss you again and his hand moves from your face to toy with the lower hem of your dress. “you look absolutely gorgeous in this, baby, but do you think can we take it off?” he’s still speaking in the low, sultry tone that always drives you wild- you’re certain that you’d do anything he asked of you with that voice.

you sit up a little and move to unzip the dress, but he takes your hands and gives you a look. “ah ah- let me, pretty girl, you don’t have to move a muscle.”

it’s almost jarring how easily you both fall back into it. as soon as your dress is off, his shirt follows and he’s back to hovering over you. it really feels as though no time has passed since your last time with him.

just more proof that this is right.

he wastes no time in ridding you of your bra and himself of his shirt before pushing you back down onto the bed.

the room is once again filled with sounds of soft moans and gasps as he kisses your chest and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. he alternates between swirling his tongue around it and sucking. kuroo didn’t let your other breast go unattended for long, though, as he begins teasing the hardened bud with his fingers.

“aah, tetsu… please…” you gasped out.

the man on top of you chuckles, and in between switching sides he looks at you from under his eyelashes. “still so sensitive, hm? it’s cute.”

you resist the urge to hide your face and instead opt for throwing your head back when he suddenly sucks on the other nipple.

heat continues to build inside of you until he eventually he trails his kisses down the valley of your breasts, across your ribcage and down to your tummy. he spends a little extra time there, and you have to gently tug on his hair and whine about him taking too long for him to break away from your skin.

“let me worship you, angel. missed your body so much.” his voice is barely audible, the words murmured as though he was in a trance. you feel your pussy clench around nothing at his confession and bite back a whimper.

his lips curl upwards while pressed against your stomach and his eyes flicker up to meet yours. “keep your eyes on me, baby. don’t ever want to be away from you again,” he commands.

he rests his chin on your pubic bone and traces the elastic band of your panties with two familiar fingers. “you wore my favourite.”

heat rushes to your face and you do turn away this time, but he makes a disapproving noise you’re all too familiar with. “sweetheart, what did I just tell you?”

you bite your lip and force your eyes back to his.

he rewards you with a tender kiss to your belly and a “there’s a good girl, knew she was in there…” before he pulls your panties off.

you grow nervous, though you know you don’t need to be with him, and close your legs. his eyes soften significantly at the action. you're not sure why exactly the nerves get to you now of all times, especially considering how much you like his stricter side, but they do and he sees it.

he drops the strict act and rubs reassuring circles to your inner thigh. you've always preferred your softer sessions, anyway. “hey, it’s alright. I’m gonna take good care of you… missed my girl so much, just want to make you feel good, okay? we’ll save that for another time. it’s just you and me now, baby.”

you nod and a wave of calm washes over you at the reassurance. you let him pry your legs apart and gasp as he dives in.

he starts with wet kisses working their way up your thighs, to your slit and then up to your clit before he takes the bud into his mouth and sucks on it. you let out a soft moan and buck your hips into his face.

"mmn," he pulls away for a second and holds your hips down. "don't thrash, princess, just let me do all the work."

and he does. once he really gets into the groove of eating you out, you're a mess on his bed- legs shaking over his shoulders, cunt clenching around his tongue and whimpering out little thank you's when he makes you cum for the first time that night.

but he doesn't stop there. "tastes so good, baby, need more," he says in between licking your juices from your folds. "c’mon, just one more. you can do it," he picks up the pace again, and before you know it you're begging for more, too.

"tetsu- ah~!" you moan when he exchanges licking for sucking on your still sensitive clit again. you feel like you're on fire as he draws you closer and closer to reaching your second high.

you tangle your hands in his hair and he groans, sending vibrations throughout your core. you cry out and arch off the bed, spilling into his mouth.

this time when he pulls away, he slithers back up your body and kisses you. "see how good you taste, baby? best in the world, haven't I always told you that?"

your stomach twists from the praise and you turn your head to the side bashfully, trying to stabilize your breathing. he holds himself up above you and strokes your cheek with his knuckles, watching you fondly. it does nothing but make you more dizzy with affection.

when you've calmed down enough, he whispers "do you still want to-"

"yes." you cut him off and he chuckles.

"okay baby," he crawls off of you and reaches for his nightstand. he opens the drawer and-

your stomach sinks when you see an open box of condoms. the thought of him being with other girls makes you feel green with envy which you suppose isn’t fair considering you’ve been broken up for months, but you’re still a little fuzzy and too high on your own emotions right now to care.

he looks between you and the box and immediately catches on when an unexpected tear falls from your eye.

“oh, baby no-“ he takes one from the box and quickly returns to your side. “I haven’t been using these,” he cups your face and strokes his thumb under your eye.

“you haven’t?” you sniffle and he shakes his head right away.

you pout. “but then-”

kuroo cuts you off with a roll of his eyes. “one of my roommates got them for me as a joke for my birthday. I only opened them because he kept asking to borrow them.”

you digest his words and slowly look up at him. he’s already looking at you and you can’t keep your eyes from watering some more. the thought of him being intimate with someone new when you’ve spent the past few months rejecting everyone your friends forced your way.

“I haven’t even looked at anyone else since we broke up,” he murmurs against your hairline. “missed you too much.”

you nod, finding no traces of dishonesty on his features. “I haven’t been with anyone either… I wasn’t over you. I didn’t want to be,” you admit, voice soft.

he smiles and presses kisses from your scalp down to your cheeks. “such a sweet girl I have, hm? how about you help me out here?”

he tugs off his sweats and your attention is drawn to the tent his boxers. you bite your lip and reach for the band but he takes your hand and places the condom on your palm.

you blink up at him, confused. “you don’t want me to-“

he shakes his head and tugs his boxers down. his cock springs free and you gasp a little at the sight of his tip- red and smeared with pre-cum.

“no, angel, I need to be inside of you. just help me put it on.”

you make quick work of tearing the wrapper off and rolling the condom over his length. he groans at the feeling of your knuckles grazing his skin, but as soon as you pull away he’s flipping you on your back and lining himself up against your entrance.

he knocks his forehead against yours. “ready, baby?”

you nod and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. he leans down for a kiss and slowly pushes into you as your lips connect.

you whine a little at the stretch and he pauses everything. “you’re okay,” he reassures you, giving you time to adjust.

you nod when you feel ready for him to keep going and he bottoms out with a strangled moan. “you’re unreal, you know that?”

his praise pulls a giggle from your throat but it quickly turns into a breathy sigh when he starts moving.

he starts off slow, but soon enough you’re both lost in the moment and his pace picks up. within the next few minutes, his room is filled with sounds of pleasure and sweet words exchanged between lovers.

“you’re perfect,” he says, angling his lips closer to your ear. his hips stutter when you clamp around him at his words.

his thrusts reach deep enough to get you crying out for him. “tetsu, faster! please!”

“ah- there’s a good girl, love hearing you beg for more.” he nibbles the spot just below your ear, soothing it with his tongue.

“I love you,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders.

kuroo groans at the sensation and goes a bit harder. “you needed this just as bad as I did, hm? it’s okay, I’ve got you now, pretty girl. just relax.”

you hide your face in his neck and try to stifle your moans, but he doesn’t appreciate that one bit. “stop that, let me hear you,” he commands and you immediately pull your head back.

he grins down at you and kisses your nose. “sound so pretty when you’re falling apart on my cock, you know better than to hide those noises from me.”

you nod and find yourself unable to look away from his face, as if you were in a trance. he’s absolutely gorgeous on top of you- why would you want to look away?

“you close, baby?” he asks after your walls tighten even more.

“mmhm,” you whimper and lean up for a kiss.

“me too,” he whispers and tugs one of your hands away from his shoulder. he intertwines your fingers and presses is above your head against the pillow. “needed this just as badly as I did, hm? it’s okay, I’ve got you, baby.”

doing so good for me.

you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

you feel so fucking good, princess.

all of his praise sent shockwaves throughout your body and soon enough you’re tipping over the edge. your back is arched, head thrown back and a loud cry of his name is drawn from you as you cum for the second time.

he follows soon after and you feel his whole body shudder when he spills into his condom.

your breaths mix together as you both come down from your highs. it’s quiet for a few moments before he carefully pulls out and disposes of the soiled contraceptive in the trash next to his bed. he rolls back into bed, facing you.

he strokes your cheek with his knuckles and smiles at you when you open your eyes and turn to face him as well. “hi pretty girl, you okay?”

you take a deep breath and curl into his chest. you still feel slightly too light and any thoughts not related to him are muddled. you’re overcome with an intense wave of affection for him.

he must notice, because when you manage to peek up at him again, he snorts. “yeah, I don’t know what I was expecting.”

he knows better than to try and leave the bed right away (memories of you whining and clinging to him when he did attempt it early on in your relationship flash through his mind and he smiles), so instead he wraps his arms around you and presses kisses to your hairline.

you savour the familiar feeling of being wrapped in his arms and nuzzle into his bare chest. the most comfortable feeling in the world.

eventually he does get up to grab a damp cloth and some water, and he informs you that you can use his bathroom for whatever you need.

you’re both following the same routine you had when you were together as if you hadn’t broken up at all.

now that you’ve regained some clarity, you start to worry about what exactly that means.

you’ve both admitted to missing each other like crazy, but you assume you’ll need to have a serious conversation with kuroo about whether or not you should get back together.

you ponder over this on his bed for a bit longer before he interrupts your thoughts. “we don’t have to talk about it right now,” he starts. “we can talk about it tomorrow morning if you would prefer, but…”

he pauses like he’s not sure if he should continue. you nod encouragingly, curious as to where this is going (thought you think you know). “but I meant absolutely everything I said tonight. um, before and while we were… uh. busy.”

you giggle a little at his shy demeanour before considering the weight of his words. “we could talk about it tomorrow morning, but I think we both already know what we want from this right?”

he doesn’t need to nod, but he does anyway. “I definitely have an answer already.”

you knock your forehead against his. “so… are we officially back together then?”

he offers you the widest grin he’s thrown your way all night. “I think we are, sweetheart. We’ll make it work this time, I promise.”

“I promise,” you repeat.

the rest of the night is spent cuddling under covers, sharing kisses and secrets you’ve missed out on sharing these past few months.

“I love you,” you say, before you finally drift off for the night.

you don’t hear him, but he’s quick to return the sentiment. “I love you too.”

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

BONUS:

the following morning, you wake up to your phone ringing. you groan when you see it’s your friend and realize you never texted her back last night to tell her you’re okay.

you look over at kuroo, still sound asleep beside you, and answer as quietly as possible. “hello?”

“oh thank goodness you’re alright, why weren’t you picking up? we all called you a million times!”

you check and see a ton of missed calls from more of your friends who saw you leave the party last night. “I’m sorry, I was asleep,” you say sincerely, only twisting the truth a little bit.

you feel slightly bad about it, you mentally promise her to tell her everything later.

before she can respond, your boyfriend sits up (when did he even wake up?) and says into the phone, “sorry, it’s my fault. but I promise I took good care of her,” he smirks at you.

you flinch when she shrieks into your ear. “YOU WERE WITH KUROO?!”

glaring at him, he snickers and takes the phone from you. “she’ll call you back later, we’re still catching up.”

“no, wait-“ he hangs up the phone and tosses it onto his sheets.

you pout at him. “tetsu, c’mon.”

he kisses your cheek. “I really didn’t meant for it to come off as rude, I swear. I just wanted a relaxing morning with you before you have to leave.”

you sigh and fall back into the soft comfort of his pillows. “it’s okay,” you say. “I really didn’t feel like giving her the rundown first thing in the morning, anyway. you really tired me out last night,” you peer up at him.

he laughs. “oh really? we’ve gotta build up your stamina again, pretty girl. I wasn’t lying-“ he crawls over and hovers a few inches above you. “we still have a lot of catching up to do.”

you mentally pat yourself on the back for answering his texts. definitely not your worst idea.

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

I swear I’ll get better at writing smut, folks 🫡

but for my first time writing it, I don’t think it’s horrible. if the ending feels a bit rushed, it’s because I’ve literally had this sitting in my drafts since miss olivia rodrigo released the music video for this song last august and I wanted it out 🙃.

tagging @nyctophilicroses bc I remember you commented on the original post I made asking abt exes to lovers with kuroo 🥹

[dustteller]

Something I haven't seen people talk about with the new spiderverse movie is just how puertorrican Miles and Rio are.

For background, I'm puertorrican from the island, and I just watched Across the Spiderverse in a theater here, and let me tell you, the people in the theater freaked out whenever these little details came on. It is so clear to all of us how much care went into portraying every single detail.

You guys don't understand how important all of this is to me.

At the party, when everyone started greeting miles in spanish? I've had all those phrases said to me. All of those people had my accent. They weren't a different flavor of hispanic just because finding some puertorricans was too hard. They were all so very puertorrican that it almost hurt.

But even that can be a bit easier to portray. Sure, they all had puertorrican accents, but everything they said is pretty run of the mill for hispanic people. And then I saw the food. I remember the asopao most clearly, because it was just on screen for a few seconds, and my friend started whisper screaming "Pasteles, pasteles!!" into my ear. It was such a tiny thing, but the food was ours, and not cuban, and not dominican. We never get to see our food done right, because no one cares. People just use dominican food and go "close enough."

And when Miles and his parents are talking about spiderman and Rio says that Spiderman is puertorrican?? That's such a puertorrican thing to do. People here are so incredibly proud of our island and our people that I personally know so many people that have gone to see Lin Manuel Miranda shows while having zero interest in musical theater because he's one of us. It makes so much sense that Rio would celebrate that, and when Miles immediately tries to deflect by saying spuderman sounds more dominican? That's peak comedy. Everyone in the theater burst out laughing, and that joke works precisely because the movie doesn't treat us as interchangeable.

And finally, Rio herself. The way all the characters move is so incredibly unique and mesmerizing, but Rio? My girl feels with her mouth. Her expressions were so spot on, with the lips making up so much of the emotions. Puertorricans use our lips a lot when expressing how we feel, and its such a tiny, inconsequential detail, but it means the world to me. So many people in the creative team cared so much for all these little details to make their way in. They really didn't have to, but they did, and I just really appreciate that.

Also, fun fact, I watched it in english with spanish subs (the subs are for the spanish dubbed version, not a direct translation), and when Rio says "I bet she doesn't even know spanish" about Gwen, in spanish it's "I bet she doesn't even know where Puerto Rico is" and that was very funny and I laughed my ass off when I noticed that's what they translated it as.

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY ONE

in which you try everything you can to make eddie feel better after his encounter with chrissy - to make him forget, to make him feel cherished, to make him feel worthy.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, a single use of Y/N, smut (p in v), oral (m receiving), voyeurism, edging, good old fashioned ball worship if you squint, maybe some sub!eddie if you squint even harder, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7.3k+

→ a/n: shout out to @hellfire--cult for the balcony idea. i knew i'd get them there at some point, little freaks. and everyone say thank you to @icallhimjoey for the early post 😏

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

21:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00

HOUR TWENTY ONE - 12:00 PM

STEVE-O: why do you guys suck so much at providing photographic proof of being alive? seriously

You’ve been staring at Steve’s text ever since the two of you arrived back at the apartment. You’d reply soon enough, but for now, the message was a distraction.

Eddie wasn’t speaking to you.

Not in a brooding sense, but in a way that let you know he was too far gone in his own head right now for you to reach him. When you’d said those words to him, when you’d admitted that you found him worth it, you saw his eyes glaze over slowly. You’d watched in real time as he slipped away from you. It might be that he doesn’t believe you, it might be guilt that continues to gnaw at him for a past that can’t be changed — whatever it is, you hate it.

The easy solution would be to send Steve the photos from the cafe, but you’d already tried that. Your thumb had hovered over that photo of Eddie with a mouthful of croissant, still bright and brilliant before all his waves of self-hatred had gotten ahold of him, and you just couldn’t. It was selfish, it was ridiculous, but you couldn’t share that piece of him with others. Some small, childish, hopeless bit of you needed to cling to the man in that photo and keep him safely inside your chest. It wasn’t a new version to your friends, they’ve always tried to defend Eddie and convince you he wasn’t all bad, but it was new to you. It was all so unexpected and unforeseen, the look behind his golden eyes as he seemingly looked right past the camera and right into you. 

No, you couldn’t send that photo. It was for your eyes only. A souvenir you had greedily stolen. 

Eddie had excused himself to the bathroom when you two arrived at the apartment, and this time, there was no dirty intentions behind it. You left well enough alone — he needed a moment to be by himself and that was fine. You could entertain yourself until he was ready to come back to you, back down to Earth. Right now, you were currently picking apart an almond croissant as if it were the most interesting thing you’d ever laid eyes on. 

Croissant dissection — see? You absolutely could distract yourself in order to give him space. Absolutely no sarcasm there.

You finally sigh when you see a message bubble pop up with three little dots, signifying Steve is typing again. You don’t give him the time to properly finish out his message before you click on your camera icon, snap a shot of the picked apart croissant in front of you, and send a message with the image attached.

YOU: we were eating breakfast, eddie’s been in the bathroom. happy, mom?

STEVE-O: he’s been in the bathroom for an entire hour? 

YOU: oh, you know how you men get with toilet time. 

Despite the playful tone of your texts, your face is completely flat, chest still heavy as you think about Eddie behind the wooden door. Should you be giving Eddie this amount of space? What if it’s doing more damage than good?

You’re about to stand from the stool you’ve occupied for nearly ten minutes now and go try your hand at knocking, try and remind Eddie that you’re still here, when Steve’s next text comes through. 

STEVE-O: stop bullshitting me. what happened? 

You swear you taste metallic blood from how hard you bite down on your bottom lip, staring at the mocking message. You can’t even begin to explain to Steve what has transpired, not just this last hour, but the entirety of the time. The parking garage, the joking marriage, Chrissy showing up, Eddie’s painful vulnerability – you can’t find the words to tell him about any of it. The same as you can’t find it in you to send the photo of Eddie in Betty’s. 

YOU: nothing happened. do you need any more proof than that?

He only reacts to your message with a thumbs up. You assume that means you’re in the clear, for now. 

When you exit your thread of messages with Steve, a new thread that has been started catches your eye. It’s a new number, no contact on it. The only message sent is from you – the photo of you with your coffee, head thrown back and eyes shut with a wide smile boosting your cheeks. 

Eddie’s phone number. 

You look at the photo of yourself for a while, trying to not cringe at your appearance. To you, you just looked ridiculous. You don’t understand why Eddie wanted this photo preserved so badly. Your smile is too wide, your eyes are mere slits from the way your cheeks were squishing up with joy, most of your makeup you’d started the night with has long since faded due to a multitude of activities. You don’t feel like anything special in this photo.

But Eddie had wanted it. He had deemed this moment in time of you as picture-worthy, had gone so far as to send it to himself so that he’d have this memory even if you deleted it from your phone. 

Before you think too hard on it, you tap on that line of numbers and add a proper contact profile to it. 

EDDIE. You keep the contact name simple, eager to get it out of the way as you move onto the next step. A contact photo. You don’t even have to ponder on it – in a flash, you’ve selected the picture of him with the croissant. 

You’re back on the thread of messages – or, at least, the singular message – and don’t stop yourself as your thumbs begin to fly over your keyboard.

YOU: why were the almond croissants almost sold out? 

To be fair, you didn’t even know if Eddie had his phone on him. That green message stares back at you for a few moments before you get your answer. 

EDDIE: Excuse me? 

He has his phone. You lift your head, looking at the closed door of the bathroom before glancing back down at your phone. 

YOU: because everyone went NUTS over them. 

You perk your ears and listen for any sign of life from down the hall. Anything. A scoff, a pitiful laugh, him calling you stupid aloud. You’ll take whatever he offers. 

It takes a moment, and you truly have to strain to hear it, but you can hear the laugh that would better pass as a sigh. 

EDDIE: Is that supposed to be a joke? 

YOU: ‘supposed to be’. excuse me, it was definitely a joke. and a very good one, at that. 

EDDIE: Debatable. 

You find yourself smiling down at the phone. Your neck aches from the way you keep glancing up suddenly at the door, silently pleading for him to come back out. To come out and fight with you, come out and bicker with you, come out and ignore you. Anything, for him to leave the bathroom and do anything but keep that door shut between you two. 

He doesn’t, so you send another bad joke. 

YOU: what did the customer say when they looked at the croissant? 

This time, he plays along. 

EDDIE: I don't know, what? 

YOU: what a BREADtaking sight. 

This time, you hear a more proper scoff come from within the bathroom. 

YOU: i heard that. don’t even try to tell me it wasn’t funny. 

EDDIE: I’m not laughing because they’re funny. I’m laughing because they’re BAD. 

YOU: bet you wouldn’t say that to my face. 

Immediately, you discard the phone, facedown on the counter as you look up to the door with unbridled hope. He could always ignore the comment, choose to not respond and continue to sulk away from you. It’s entirely possible – but you pray to every star in the sky that that isn’t what he’s going to do. 

Please come back out. Please, even if just to sit in silence with me. 

Your prayers are answered.

Slowly, painfully slowly, you hear shuffling on the other side of the door and await for the click of the door unlocking. It never comes, though – the door was never locked in the first place. He opens it, and you realize that the entire time, you could have stormed into the small room with him and demanded that he not hide away.

But you didn’t. You gave him space, gave him patience, and it’s clear he knows this as he comes out. 

His eyes are red. As if he’s been crying. 

“Hi,” you meekly say, taking in his face past those red-rimmed eyes. The tip of his nose is a fading shade of pink, as if he’s been rubbing it incessantly, and he sniffs for good measure as he turns the bathroom light off and walks to where you are. 

“Hi,” his voice is rough around the edges as he greets you back. He won’t look you in the eye once he’s within reach – his gaze remains downcast, and you catch him fiddling with a few of his rings. 

You hadn’t considered what you would do if you got this far. In every carefully considered scenario, you’d assumed he’d shut you out. You never expected him to come straight to you, as if seeking out comfort from you, without you having to beg it of him. 

His eyes catch the croissants on the counter, torn apart and lazily picked at. He’s about to open his mouth and say something about it, probably questioning what you had done to the poor pastry, but you don’t give him a chance. You’re quick to snatch up one of the pieces you’d been picking apart to snack on for yourself and hold it out to him. An olive branch, an offering – a reason for him to sit and stay for a while with you. 

He takes it tentatively, finally looking you in your eye again as he takes a small bite. It’s nothing compared to the bite he had taken when you’d snapped the photo of him, mere crumbs compared to that mouthful. 

“Did you just… massacre our croissants?” he questions, squinting his eyes down at the crime scene. 

You shift your body jokingly, failing at blocking him from seeing the mess you made, “Absolutely not. I have no clue what you’re talking about.” 

He almost cracks a grin, “Right. Of course. I must be imagining things.” 

“Wanna hear another pun?” you blurt out, suddenly nervous as he continues to stand before you. You hate the incessant need inside of your chest that calls for you to comfort him, to make this all better for him. 

“I feel like you’ll tell me one even if I say no,” he raises an eyebrow at you, “So, sure.” 

“Why did the croissant go to the doctor?”

He hums, trying to peer over your shoulder again at the croissants you were badly hiding, “Let me guess. Is it because you tore it apart mercilessly?” 

“No,” you scoff, reaching behind you to grab another piece to offer to him as well as one of your own, “It was because he was feeling crummy, dumb ass.” 

A crack of a smile. It’s miniscule but there. It makes that terrible pun worth it, just to see him not looking quite as defeated is worth all the stars in the sky at this point for you. 

You’d certainly been the reason for his unhappiness in the past, and you surely would be again at some point. It all feels so inevitable; just as he believes that he can only bring you misery, you can’t imagine yourself bringing him joy. A belief that strikes something in your chest, something albeit more painful than you’d care to admit, but it’s true. You’ve crossed a line, you’ve changed everything, but the past still remains. 

You aren’t perfect. Neither is Eddie.

Heartbreak is imminent, but for this brief moment, you can make him smile. You don’t need to worry about the next time you’ll piss him off or upset him, you just need to focus on making that twitch on his lips more permanent. 

“I meant what I said earlier, by the way,” you decide to rip off the bandaid as he moves as if to sit beside you. Quickly, your words make him freeze. A bad sign, but you push through, because he needs to hear these things, “You deserve good things, Eddie. Good people, good things- you just… you deserve those things in your life.” 

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

He’s turning away from you. Turning and heading to the living room, walking away from you.

You don’t let him. In an instant, you get onto your feet and follow him, continuing despite him acting as if he’s finished with the conversation. You’re not.

“You’re a good person, Eddie,” you insist, reaching out for him before he makes it to the couch, “Don’t walk away from me.”

He spins easily in your grip. “Just because you say something, doesn’t make it true, sweetheart.”

He’s back to saying it like a curse. Like it’s a harmful title. As if it’s not a privilege to you and all your metaphors to hear that nickname fall from his lips. 

Right before your eyes, his defenses are on the rise. Brick by brick, he’s slowly reforming those walls to separate the two of you. Instead of defeat, instead of acceptance, it just makes you angry.

“Stop doing that,” you say quietly, carefully, firmly.

“Stop doing what?”

“That. Pushing me away. Locking me out,”  you tighten your hand on his bicep and watch the way his nostrils flare, “I fucking hate it.”

“Despite what you believe,” he takes a step closer to you, “Not everything I do is meant to piss you off.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying, and we both know it,” you can feel his muscles tense beneath your touch.

This time, his smile that emerges is cold. But you can still see the rubbage left by his tears — pink water lines and a new puffiness around his eyes. His words and his sudden cool demeanor can’t hurt you when you see it for what it is.

“Clearly we both don’t know it,” he chastised you, “We are very rarely on the same page. This isn’t a damn exception. You don’t have to prove your point, it doesn’t matter.”

He’s a wounded animal, striking out. He’s letting Chrissy’s words get to him.

“You’re worth i-“

“Don’t,” One of his hands shoot out to grip your waist, “Don’t fucking say that. Please. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” 

He didn’t believe you. 

“I meant it,” you whisper, anger shaking out of your grasp inch by inch as you realize that your words can’t break through to him, “I mean it. You’re worth it, to me, to St-“

“This isn’t about Steve,” he cuts you off, “It’s not about Steve, or Nancy, or Robin, or fucking Argyle. No need to play dumb anymore.” 

It’s about you.

You both know it. For once, contradictory to what he’d just claimed, you’re both on the same page. And like he said, no need to play dumb. 

“You’re worth it to me,” you say it with more confidence this time, “You’re a good person to me.” 

“How can you say that?” he laughs out, void of amusement, “How can you say shit like that after everything we’ve been through?”

How can you not?

You only squeeze his bicep tighter, and he returns the action by gripping your hip harsher. “Because I mean it. I believe it. Whether you do or not.” 

For a moment, the cracks in his armor expose themselves. 

“You shouldn’t,” his voice should waver, “You shouldn’t believe those things, Y/N. You should hate me.” 

“But I don’t,” And I never did.

“But you don’t,” he echoes.

You’ve done the opposite of what you had wanted. His smile is gone, that sadness creeping back up. You hate that. You don’t hate him — you hate that world of mourning behind his eyes, that defeat that brings his shoulders down and makes his grip on you falter. So you do the only thing you can think of to distract him. Make him forget.

“Make me hate you.” 

His eyes widen briefly, “Excuse me?”

“Make me hate you,” you practically beg of him, “Show me why you’re such a bad person and I’ll let this go. I’ll drop the conversation, we can- Fuck, we can forget this entire morning happened. Make me hate you, Eddie, and I’ll stop reminding you that I don’t.” 

His fingers curl back into you, slowly and gently, as his brows furrow. He’s considering what you’ve just said — more than that, you can see him trying to untangle all the hidden meanings behind it.

“And how do you suggest I do that?” his voice is low and calculated. 

You shrug, stepping forward, letting your lips get even closer to his, “Not my problem. Just make me.” 

The fingers are no longer gentle as he pulls you into him, finally catching onto the emphasis you place on those two little words.

Make me.

When his lips meet yours, they’re rough and brutal, taking greedily what they want from you. The only thing on your mind is making him forget. Make him forget, carry the load for him — they’re both more important than making him smile for now. Both these driving needs burn brighter in your chest because it’s clear that’s what he needs. 

You’re willing to give him whatever he needs right now.

“You want me to make you hate me, baby?” he mumbled against your lip, practically drinking in the way you gasp as he starts to pull back, “Is that really what you want?”

It’s what you want. “Yes.” 

And maybe you do too, when he leans back in to bite your lip. There will be another time for you to convince him with words that you find him to be worth it. Both hands from wrap around you and rough start to guide you back towards that fucking couch.

“Not the couch,” you suddenly protest, digging your heels into the carpet at the center of his living room, “Anywhere but the couch.” 

And oh, the way he’s looking at you in that moment might be your new favorite thing. Your new favorite color is his eyes as they sparkle with a bit of life that had been missing since the coffee shops encounter. Your new favorite sound is the silence that encases the little breath he lets out. Your new favorite movie is watching him move in slow motion as his eyes dart behind you, towards the door to his balcony, before his lips finally curl up with a hint of the genuine warmth that had been hidden behind his walls.

“Anywhere?” he teases, beginning to walk you backwards.

You nod, grinning right back at him.

“I think I have an idea.” 

If you had known twenty one hours ago that Eddie Munson, your sworn enemy, would have you out on his public balcony and on your knees for him in only a matter of time, past you would have….

Well, you don’t really care what past you would have done or thought anymore. You’re making him forget, yes, all while making yourself forget. You don’t care what you, twenty one hours ago, would or wouldn’t do as you let the past slip through your fingers so eagerly. All you can focus on is the dig of concrete against your knees, the way Eddie’s hands grip the railing as he leans against it, and the way the early afternoon sun forms a halo around him as you look up through fluttering lashes.

You just want to make him feel good. Every action is intentional, doing everything in your power to erase whatever storming thoughts had been haunting him so cruelly since Chrissy had so carelessly said what she had. You want to make him feel worthy. You want to make him feel loved.

Loved. You certainly didn’t love him — you couldn’t possibly, could you? He wouldn’t let you. You wouldn’t let yourself. But for now, you could play pretend; you could worship his body, drag his shirt out of the way and place playful kisses across his hips, and you could pretend that only this moment exists. 

“You wanna know what makes me such a bad person?” he sighs out as you let your teeth graze his skin, shoulders rolling to shake off that shiver you elicit from him, “This. The fact that this is all I can fucking think about.”

“Hm,” you can only hum in response, nails taking over the denim of the jeans he currently wore. You walk your fingers up his thighs, moving closer and closer to his zipper. Your mouth is nearly watering at the prospect of worshiping him. 

And the fact that any neighbor could walk out at any given moment and catch the two of you. You should probably insist on it being fast, on him being quiet, but the thought sends a thrill through the pit of your stomach. Your thighs clench and your cunt aches at the thought of being caught. 

You want to do more than make him bite back mere moans of your name. You want to make him scream.

Suddenly, a hand tangles into the roots of your hair, pulling back and making you focus on him again.

“Eyes on me,” he instructs. Once you focus on him and only him, he continues, loosening his grip and letting those fingertips rub at your scalp soothingly, “You know why you should hate me? For all the nights I pictured this.”

“Yeah?” you smile innocently, playing along. He can talk all he wants, you know once you get your mouth on him, he’ll be lucky to remember his own name. “How many nights, hm? Tell me all about them, pretty boy.”

You catch the wobble in his knees, the way his breathing picks up, the brilliant shade of ivory his knuckles stretch to. You lean back on your haunches, and the hand in your hair slips as he glowers down at you. 

“What are you-”

“Take off your shirt,” you calmly command.

“Excuse me?” 

“Your shirt. I want it off.”

His hand that was once tangled against your scalp now comes down to your face, movement slow but not hesitant as he pinches your chin. His thumb tugs on your bottom lip, and you let out, even making a show of letting your tongue peek out to tap at it. “And who said you were calling the shots?” 

“I did,” you put it simply, completely removing your hands from him now, “Take off the shirt, or I’ll leave you out here with blue balls.” 

You close your lips around the end of his thumb and his knuckles dig in deeper to the skin below your chin as you suck subtly. He chuckles, but you can hear just how breathless he goes at the small action, even as he keeps up the act with a hard press of his thumb on your lower lip. Your mouth hangs open for him, waiting patiently for his next move. 

A game of chess, an exchange of power, a fight for dominance. All the lines of who is and isn’t in control are blurred. 

“Have you always been so mean, baby?” he taunts, trailing what spit you’d left behind on his thumb along your lip. 

His movement stops when your lips spread into a provocative smile, “I learned from the best, didn’t I?” 

The retort had potential to backfire. You wait for smoke and glory, for him to pull away from you further. He’d slam down a brick right in front of your face, lay the mortar to leave you high and dry. He’d push you away, and you’d have to retreat, tail tucked between your legs in the shame of trying when it came to him. 

No smoke, no glory. He secedes, but makes no move to add to his walls, only removing his hand from your face and taking off the shirt. Just as you had told him to. 

“Better?” he asks as he makes a show of tossing the shirt to the other side of the balcony. It could have even flown over the railing, for all you paid attention to the scrap of clothing. Maybe some innocent bystander is on the streets below, confused to all Hell as to why it’s raining obscure band t-shirts. 

You’re just a bit too distracted to consider that right now. 

With Eddie’s torso revealed, all words seem to evade you. You catch the sweat beginning to gather across his sternum, watching the way he’s flushing beneath your gaze, reveling in the pink chest exposed to you as the blush crawls wider. Instantly, your original purpose is forgotten, the primal urge to pepper kisses and bites alike across his skin almost lifting you up off your sore knees. You want to leave bruises – you want to make him scream, you want to mark him up, you want to make him feel worthy. 

You stay on your knees, but compromise with all your wants as you lift up and stretch a bit. Your lips start their trail a bit lower than you (or Eddie) would have liked, taking their time to get familiar with the spanse of his rib cage first. You don’t nip with teeth, not yet. Just chaste kisses, lining each bone you can hardly feel residing beneath the skin, feeling his lungs expanding against your affection. Your tongue swipes alongside one of his side tattoos, a large and detailed dragon you hadn’t paid much mind to before. Every time you’d seen him shirtless, you’d been a bit distracted.

Not now. Now, you’re focused, determined to learn every curve and dip there is to explore on Eddie. You want to know him better than the back of your hands, memorize him more intricately than your own palms. After all, in order to worship a deity, you must know them. 

You return back to the center line of his abdomen, kisses chasing after one another, even taking the time to suck his skin between your teeth but never bite down. You pause once your lips rest right beneath his navel, the tip of your nose brushing that rough patch of hair that leads down to your end destination. Your hands reach for his belt, toying with the buckle.

Through heavy lashes, you look up at him, staring down at you in awe, “You know, you’re not doing a very good job at making me hate you, pretty boy. Think I might just have to worship you instead.”

A deity of your own making. A deity for your own taking. 

With skill, your hands undo the buckle effortlessly. You unbutton and unzip his jeans as if you’ve done this part a million times, as if you’d spent every single Sunday of the last year right here and doing exactly this. On your knees, worshiping him. This balcony, for all its exposure, certainly knows how to serve as a holy place. 

He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re impatient. You still haven’t left him speechless, meaning you still hadn’t made your point, clearly. 

His jeans hang loosely as they creep down his thighs, abandoned for a moment as you occupy your mouth against his hips. The hips you once thought would look so pretty properly decorated. You decide you were wrong – they don’t need ink burying into the skin, they need your teeth digging in. 

You cover that skin with mirroring images of bursts of purple and pink, flowering bruises that you take your time to mark onto him. With each suck and bite, Eddie rolls his hips into you, head leaned back and throat straining with each moan he swallows down. 

With the last hickey finished, you finally lean back, proud of your masterpiece as Eddie whimpers above you. Blooms in the shape of your lips mingle with faint and quickly fading teeth marks. 

“Fuck,” he gasps out when your fingertip stops trailing over your markings and comes down to apply the softest pressure over the straining bulge in his boxers. 

“What was it that you said earlier?” your finger traces over where you know a vein is – you know it because you’ve felt it, been driven insane by it – before circling around the wet patch now forming. He’s desperate, hips bucking again and a moan finally escaping. You think he’s bitten his lips hard enough in an attempt at self-restraint that they might be bleeding, “You said I’m not calling the shots, right?” 

“You’re not,” he pathetically grits out, hands forming tighter fists on metal railing, as if the moment he lets go of it they’ll find their way home to you. 

You lean forward, breath washing over his crotch before you place a feathery kiss to his clothed tip, “I’m not?” 

You are. You both know you are. A constant battle of control, an ever-growing fight for dominance. 

He lets out something crossed between a sigh of relief and a whine of protest when you remove your lips and hand from him completely, only to let out a sharp yelp when your finger curls into the waistband of his boxers and pulls back the elastic, letting it snap back into place sharply. 

“Say I am,” you barter, “Say I’m in control right now, and I’ll put my money where my mouth is.” 

You don’t expect him to break so easily. You’ve underestimated just how tightly you’ve caught him beneath your thumb.

“You’re in control,” he gasps out, head hanging low to meet your gaze fully, “You’re in complete and utter fucking control of me. You’re calling all the shots, baby. You always are.” 

He didn’t have to sweeten it up with baby, but it spurs you on. 

You shove his boxers down, watching his cock spring out for the taking. And you do as you promised; you put your money where your mouth is.

You start softly, taking your time as you gingerly suck on his pretty pink tip as you had his thumb. Hardly hollowing your cheeks, letting your tongue circle his slit to gather up the precum. You let the taste of him completely cover your tongue, even hum in satisfaction when he lets out a loud groan. It motivates you, feeds your fervor as you let his tip fall from your mouth and trail the tip of your tongue down the underside of his cock. That vein you’d traced with your fingertip, yours for the taking, covered in a faint line of saliva as you let it rest on your forehead and graze your lips against his ballsack. 

He can’t hide his shiver, even as his fist flies to his mouth to bite down on. 

“Have I ever told you how cute you are?” you say low enough for just him. You can hear the sounds of traffic, a dog barking, birds singing — all reminders of the outside world and the looming threat of being caught. Warmth floods you again at the reminder of that threat, thighs clenching closer together in a desperate search of friction, “Just falling apart for me, acting so tough for so long until I got you alone.” 

He whimpers your name. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You wrap your lips around the sensitive skin, sucking and pecking away on one side before moving to the next. His reaction throttles your movements. When his hand loses the fight of resistance, coming down to the back of your head, you laugh breathlessly against the now wet skin. 

“Let me make you feel just how worthy you are to me,” you praise, pulling back finally, letting your nose brush against his sack as you do so. The hand that was once merely resting now tangles up in your hair — a warning. 

You let the velvet skin of his cock drag down your cheek as each movement is deliberate, taking your time and in no rush. You want to savor him like this. Imprint him to memory. 

You want to make him forget while making yourself remember. 

You want to remember the way his hand flexes at the base of your skull when you finally kiss his tip once more, remember the way his abdomen tenses as you sink him further into your mouth. You want to remember every little sound that escapes him as he hits the back of your throat, as you constrict around him, as you moan around his base and the vibrations have him slipping out of control. 

Your nails dig into his thighs to balance yourself, eyes watering as you look up at him. One subtle nod. He doesn’t need more than that.

Your jaw goes slack, trying to steady your breathing through your nose as you let him take control. His hips thrust at their own pace, gentle enough that he only grazes the back of your throat rather than bruise it. The issue is you want him to bruise it. You want him to mark you from the inside out. Until there’s no part of you left untouched by him. 

You gag again, and he slows. Your fingers that grip his thighs immediately tap against him, and he mistakes it as a signal to pull back completely before you chase after him, pressing him onto your tongue until your lips are snug around his cock a mere inch from the base. Your nose is grazing those pubes in the dead center of all your love marks. Shapes of semi-permanent scars that whisper, you’re worth it to me. I want this. I want you. 

The last thing on his mind was Chrissy Cunningham and her words alluding to him not being worth it. 

You make sure of it when you finally release him from your mouth and begin to pump with an eager fist, ducking down and returning to pay attention to his balls once more. You nuzzle the soft skin, let the tips of your canines graze them before you suck them onto your tongue as you’d done his cock. He’s no longer containing his moans – they flow freely along with curse words, chants of your name, sounds you’d love to capture and play on repeat until the end of your days. 

“Oh my God,” he groans out particularly loudly, “Fuck, baby. J-Just like that, please- Fuck. You’re doing so good for me. Such a good girl, just for me.” 

Your hand is still wrapped around him, slowly coming up to squeeze hard around the tip as you whisper up to him, “Only for you.” 

“Yeah? Only for me?” 

You don’t know how to explain to him that it’s true: you’re only ever that mean for him, you’re only ever this eager for him, you’re only ever this desperate for him. 

You don’t answer him with words. There are none. Instead, you take him back in your mouth, and you solely focus on bringing your deity to climax. The man you were worshiping, the man who was worth the ache in your knees that surely told you they would be left bruised, if not skinned. 

“Is it just like you imagined?” you question as you break your lips off him. He’s close, leaking precum excessively and entire body taut, “Was it worth it? To picture this, to want this so badly?” 

He almost can’t answer you, but somehow manages between pants, “It was. It is. You’re- fuck, you’re worth it.” 

“Good,” you drop your hand from him, leaving him right on the edge as you rest both sticky palms on the tops of your thighs. You look up at him with relinquished control – the perfect image of submission, for him. “Then you get it. When I say you’re worth it, you get it.” 

He’s clearly still reeling from you bringing him so close only to leave him hanging, teetering on a cliff as he stares you down. 

His chest heaves as he questions, “What was it you wanted me to do earlier?” A deceiving hand comes down, tucking any baby hairs behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. One moment, his thumb is stroking a soft arch beneath your eye, the next that hand is pulling you up, “Make you?”

You know that if you hadn’t been so eager to follow his touch, you’d still be on your knees. Even as you watch him take the reins, you know you will always call the shots – just like he had said. 

“You really think you can make me hate you?” you whisper once you’re standing tall in front of him, leaning your cheek into his touch.

“I shouldn’t have to make you hate me,” he corrects, the thumb back to gentle strokes, loosening the touch to be more tender once again, “You should already hate me.” 

“Why?” 

He flips positions immediately, your lower back now curving into the railing as he presses himself up against you, his achingly hard cock between your bodies, “Because of this. Because I always want you on your knees for me. Because of all the fucking filth I want to do to you. I want to bend you over, right here, and take you where anyone could see. I want to have you screaming my name loud enough that every single person on the streets of this city hears you.”

With each word, a knot ties inside of you, desperate for release. 

“Because you’re fucking right,” he leans down, lips going straight for your neck, not looking you in the eyes, “All it fucking took was for you to get me alone for one night, and now? I’ll never get enough of you, I’ll never get clean of you,” he takes a deep breath, and suddenly, his lips latch onto you, sucking the skin between his teeth and biting hard. You can’t stop your fingers from latching onto his curls, tugging hard, body rolling into his. It hurts, it stings, you need more, “Everything changes. And that includes me.” 

His face finally leaves the crook of your neck, pulling back to look you in your eyes. Doe brown eyes search yours, wide and honest and pleading. You let everything else melt away; for a moment, it’s only him and only you. The tension, the last twenty one hours, the last year — you let it disintegrate and focus on him.

It never mattered if everything changed. 

It only matters that he’s changed, irreversibly, and so are you.

“How can I hate you for those things?” you press into him again, this time less desperate and more consciously, “Do it.” 

“Do what?”

“All of it,” you trail a hand up his chest, “Every single thing you just said. Fucking- Do them. Bend me over, make me scream, change me,” your voice breaks, shaking with anticipation and need. 

It’s all the encouragement he needs.

Every single thing he wanted, he craved, he does. A flurry of him properly discarding his jeans as he unbuttons yours to shove them down, spinning you and shoving you hard enough into the railing that it digs into your abdomen and leaves you breathless. You’re hardly aware of the way you step out of your pants and kick them to the side, looking out to the city skyline but not seeing it. It’s all a blur as you focus on the way your shirt rides up and he grabs your hips, bruising you finally as you have desperately needed. 

You wanted to be left haunted by the end of these last few hours. You wanted to see him every time you looked in the mirror for the next week, to remember the map of where his body molded to yours. You want to dream of the way he stretches you as your underwear is ripped to the side. You want to be followed by the sounds of his skin slapping against yours as he snaps forward with intention.

Changing you. He has no idea that he’s already ripped you open from the inside out, has already rewired your entire chest and set flames to your brain. 

Everything changes, and sometimes, everything is only two people. Just you. Just him. New versions that would have never met had it not been for this stupid fucking bet.

“Eddie,” you nearly sob, nearly choke on, his name burning in your throat like kindling embers. 

His hand walks up your spine, trailing wildfire even with a layer of cotton between you two. Burning and singing away all you’d assumed for far too long. When he reaches the nape of your neck, he takes care in wrapping your hair around his wrist, tugging back hard and forcing you to stand from where the railing had been bending you in two.

“Say it again,” his lips brush you ear with every gasping breathing, timing with the way his cock is sliding in and out of your warmth, “Say it louder.” 

“Fu-“ you start to moan, cut off by him pulling even harder on your hair, making his point so that you cry out, “Eddie!” 

He thrusts harder. You swear you could feel him in your throat. 

“Scream for me, baby,” an arm wraps around your torso, firm and solid for you to cling to rather than the warming metal of the railing, “Tell them who’s making you feel so good. Let them know. Be a good girl.”

Even when he claims to have control, it’s your actions, your reactions, that call the shots.

It’s the echo of your voice that spurs him on as you chant his name over and over, as if he were your only God. Primal worship dripping from every syllable. It’s the tremble in your thighs that has him pressing deeper into you, chest glued to your back as if he could never get you close enough. It’s the clench of your cunt around him, a vice that sucks him in as you drag him closer to the high he’s been dizzily chasing since you first dropped to your knees in front of him. 

It’s you. You’ve changed him, as he’s changed you.

He pulls your hair until you rest the back of your head against his shoulder, back arching and feet still spread as he only maintains his quick and brutal pace, leaning down to whisper in your ear one last time.

“You know the real reason why you should hate me?” he grits out between to particularly forceful thrusts, “It’s not just because I don’t deserve you. It’s because I’ve wanted you for so long,” you’re right on the edge, fluttering around his cock as his movements stutter. A tell tale sign. “I- fuck, fuck. It’s- God, I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.” 

You shatter around him in waves. Your entire body tenses as the words dig claws into you, piercing through vines and blooms. His body stills, warmth flooding you deep within as you continue to see stars. You can’t make a single sound, fingerprints surely left behind on where you clasp onto his forearm. 

I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.

When the waves recede, when the high has passed its peak, you both freeze. Your body tensed in his hold, struggling to process what he’d just said. 

Loved you. 

He’s frozen in place, scrambling to figure out how to undo the damage just done. 

I’ve loved you for so long.

He slips out of you, his spent dripping down your thighs. His forearm drops from you. Your hands don’t even try to stop him.

I’ll never be fucking worthy.

You should be worried of neighbors coming out to see the two of you on his balcony. If not worried, you should be embarrassed, or aching at the thought once again. Anything. You should feel something.

You turn slowly to him, entirely numb as you catch his rueful expression.

Loved you. He loved you.

His regret turns to pain as you whisper, “What did you just say?”

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[pancake-breakfast]

Sorry it took me so long to get these notes up. Between internet issues and pure busy-ness, it's been rough. But here they are! The notes from AX Day 1's Trigun Stampede panel! Now with images! (Sorry for Chilchuck's head in most of them. He's awfully tall for a half-foot.)

Trigun Stampede presented by Toho Animation, Studio Orange, and Crunchyroll

The guests for this panel were Yoshihiro Watanabe (producer at Orange) and Katsuhiro Takei (producer at Toho animation), with Steve Liu from Crunchyroll hosting. (They had a translator as well, but Watanabe promptly stole her job.)

One other thing I'm going to note before we get started is that this was Takei's first time talking about all this in front of an audience since Episode 12 aired. He kept looking out at the practically full auditorium (the panel was held in one of the ballrooms, so easily one of the biggest rooms at the venue) and seeing all the fans and cosplayers and just grinning from ear to ear. He was clearly very exited.

Introduction

They started off by playing a quick video recapping Season 1. (It really made me want to watch the show on a big screen. It looks great even on a projector!) After the video, Liu started in on the interview questions. Please don't take anything below as a direct quote unless it's in quotation marks; I'm not that fast with my notes, so I'm mostly paraphrasing and relying on my memory, either of which could include my own misinterpretation or just be flat-out wrong.

The first question was, how do you feel about the future of the series?

Watanabe said their passion (for creating more of the series) was burning within them.

Takei noted that when the show was initially announced at AX some years back, they were very nervous about it since they were remaking a well-known and well-loved title, but today, looking out at all the fans, he felt a lot more confident.

Behind the Scenes of Trigun Stampede

They then showed some concept art from the famed Trigun Bible. This included what Watanabe called "Vash's projection of Rem." Seems like they came up with this design before coming up with Vash's dark design.

They also shared some concept art of what most people assume to be spiky-haired Vash...

...but which Watanabe quickly noted is actually Vash in Episode 1. You know, when he's hanging upside-down. Takei added that Muto, the director, was a bit mischievous and had a tendency to lie to the staff about when certain designs would appear in the series. He apparently hid a handful of Easter eggs and foreshadowing (like Vash having spikier hair) throughout the series.

They also had some concept art of Knives and of Vash's wing.

They then showed some concept art for some friends all y'all might recognize if you read the manga....

...but in case you didn't, I'll identify the characters below:

Top Row: Vash the Stampede, Millions Knives, Meryl Stryfe, Roberto Deniro (the blank one), Legato Bluesummers

Bottom Row: Monev the Gale, Dominique the Cyclops, Leonof the Puppet-Master, E.G. the Mine, Nicholas the Punisher, Midvalley the Hornfreak, Hoppered the Gauntlet, Rai-Dei the Blade (his name doesn't actually look like Rai-Dei here, though, so they may be calling him something different or they may just be subbing in kanji; it's too small for me to tell), Grey the Ninelives, Livio the Double Fang, Zazie the Beast, Elendira the Crimsonnail

If you're sitting there thinking, "Aww, they came up with all these designs but we saw so few of them!" then I have news for you! Watanabe said we should be keeping an eye out for more of these folks in the next part.

Favorite Scenes

Next, Liu asked both of the guests about their favorite scenes, and before they got into talking about them, we were shown a video not just of the final scene, but the storyboard, the rough cut version, and the version used for dubbing, all on one screen.

Takei answered first, and he chose the scene from episode 1 where Vash goes up against Chuck Lee, a.k.a. the military policeman from July.

(The audience kept laughing at Vash's wonderfully goofy face in the storyboard.)

When asked why he loved that scene, Takei noted that everything they wanted to accomplish in Trigun Stampede was encapsulated in it. In the manga and '98, Vash is more funny and tough (although "a good-looking guy"), and here in Stampede, he's rather more wimpy (although "still a good-looking guy"). This scene is a good blend of both sides of Vash.

It also showcases a "good action scene," which he clarified by noting there aren't many anime where so much drama and emotion is centered around one bullet. Takei also noted (though it's hard to convey to you all via still images) that Muto trusted his animators to improve on the storyboards. He's not as strict as some other directors and didn't want them to feel confined to stick to it too closely, but rather wanted them to enhance what was storyboarded out as they felt was appropriate.

Which leads to Watanabe's choice for favorite scene: the one where Vash is running through his shattered memories toward Rem and finally breaks free of Knives' prison and yeets Knives himself out. (Alas, Watanabe did not, in fact, use the word "yeet.")

Watanabe said he chose this scene because he loved the details that the team added to it after the storyboarding. The storyboard just had Vash running, but they added all these subtle movements and emotion that created a much stronger impact. When the completed scene was presented in Studio Orange, all who saw it were in awe.

Upcoming Trigun Stampede Merch

First up, as many of you already know, we have the Special Edition DVD/Blu-Ray set, which is currently available via preorder on Crunchyroll.

Second up is a new Vash figure! So new they haven't finished coloring it yet, BUT they did note this will be Black Vash (a.k.a. Grape Juice Vash) from Ep. 12. Takei is particularly excited about this because he always wanted to get the Black Vash figure from back in the day, but wasn't able to, and now he's gonna be able to get his own Stampede version. This figure is actually designed by the same person who designed the Vash figures for the manga back in the day. Interestingly, after they picked him but before they met to collaborate on designs, he came up with the current design for the figure. This worked out exceedingly well, since the design Orange wanted for the figure was basically the same thing.

Also, this Vash figure will soon have a Wolfwood companion figure. Because you can't have just one of them. The Wolfwood figure is still being designed, so alas, no images of it yet.

There's also been a restock of the orders for the clothes collaboration they had with SuperGroupies before, so a bunch of that stuff will be available again soon. They're also adding a new item to the lineup, and that's a black version of the Vash jacket. (I checked their website and it looks like they might also be adding a Livio EoM jacket. Hot.)

Preview Stuff for the Next Season

Ok, first and foremost, I'm gonna note there was NO TRAILER SHOWN, so let's crush those hopes now lest they linger and lead to disappointment. What they DID show was this:

First, a preview image of the characters for the upcoming season....

TBH, the only difference I really noticed is Knives' hair seems fluffier, but new art is always nice! Also, this one looks like a win for foot, ankle, and/or hand fetishists.

Second, we got a lovely video thanks from Nightow himself!

(He said he wanted to be there, but unfortunately there wasn't a strong enough headwind for him to run to the con. And for the curious, he's wearing a Guillermo del Toro shirt.)

Nightow being a fan of Stampede and overjoyed that so many people love his story isn't new. (Wonderful, but not new.) What IS new is he drew this nice little piece of art for us all.

He said this was his first time drawing Stampede Wolfwood. He had to get them to send him 3D images of the Punisher to be able to get it right, but he enjoyed making it! He said "it felt old and new at the same time." He can't believe next year will be the series' 30th anniversary. (Congrats, OG fans. Now we can all feel old together.)

The third thing they released was this.

Given the amount of trouble I've had posting this, I'm sure plenty of you already know that the next season/final chapter is going to be called Trigun Stargaze. Liu asked Takei about this title, and Takei said something like, "I don't know what this is about. Trigun Stargaze? What's that? This is news to me." He then (after noting he had just been joking) launched into what little he could tell us about the upcoming season.

He said he can't talk about the reason for the specific title, but that manga readers can probably make some good guesses.

Trigun Stargaze will take place 2 1/2 years after Stampede. They want to keep in mind the original concept behind Stampede, that being that because the previous Trigun stories have been so amazing, what they create needs to be amazing, too. He said they're proud of what they've made so far. It went beyond your imagination. He hopes Stargaze will go beyond your imagination, too.

Cosplayer Highlight

They decided to call all the cosplayers up to the space in front of the stage next. There were SO MANY COSPLAYERS!! Foolishly, I didn't take a panorama.

Costumes included '98 and Stampede versions of Vash, Wolfwood, and Meryl, as well as a handful of Millys (Millies?), not one but TWO groups doing Barbie & Ken-styled Vash and Wolfwood (the Barbie Vashes shouted, "Hi, Barbie!" at each other when everyone went to sit back down), an old-school Legato, a Zazie, and a group fully cross-playing the characters (with Meryl and Milly being male while Vash and Wolfwood were female; they did NOT change the costumes for any of the characters).

Liu handed out prizes to a few of them (they didn't have nearly enough prizes for all of them), and then they had all the cosplayers bunch up and face the stage and the guests turn around and took a picture of everyone. (If anyone has a link to the picture anywhere, let me know and I'll add it here. No, you can't see me in it; I'm much too far over to the side.)

Guests' Closing Thoughts

They were actually running early on the panel, so Liu opened it up to any additional comments either of the guests would like to make.

Takei still seemed overwhelmed by all the cosplayers (like I said, he spent the whole panel grinning from ear to ear at the audience), and he noted he had been worried about the Stampede characters being accepted by the fans. This was his first time seeing all the cosplayers, and he said that made him "feel safe."

Watanabe said he loved looking at the "multiverse" of Trigun. It had these previous iterations, and now it has Stampede, and the fans have both adopted it and adapted it, blending the different versions together and even adding their own things, and he really appreciates that. Takei added that while they created Trigun Stampede, if in 50 or 100 years, a new Trigun series is made, that would be great.

The animation for Stargaze is in process. Watanabe said he just recently saw some of it (a clip of only a few seconds that he, of course, couldn't show us) and it blew him away.

Both Watanabe and Takei are fans of the manga and the original series, and Takei said he's really wanted this series to happen, so he hopes we all look forward to it, too.

[royalsweetteaa]

sadbucksblog asked: Ok here’s a thought that’s been running through my head. 1940s steve forcing himself on shy!innocent!reader and forcing her to marry him. Later when reader found out that he ‘died’ (during the plane crash), she was secretly glad. But surprise surprise Endgame steve came back to return the infinity stones n decides to stay with his widow for good.In my head, endgame steve is meaner & more jaded 😈

Oh, definitely!! Endgame Steve gives the most dom vibes out of all his previous versions. If reader thought Steve was bad in the 1940s, she has another thing coming when he returns. His stay in the modern age has corrupted him more and made him kinkier. Like imagine the things he would do against 40s reader now that he knows how to pleasure a woman, because I know for sure they didn’t care about that stuff in the 40s.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - Following contains: non-con, explicit smut, forced marriage, misogyny, 40s gender roles, dom/sub dynamic, dom!Steve, unbalanced power dynamic, mentions of somnophilia, slight bondage, dumbification, loss of virginity.

Title: His return

I imagine with this scenario, Steve liked Y/N a lot before he received the serum. You were so sweet and actually nice to him unlike the rest of the girls, but whenever he asked you on a date, you would reject him, saying you only saw him as a good friend.

And so after he got his super soldier strength, he expected you to like him back, because all women love strong and masculine men who can protect and provide for them (at least that’s how the gender norms were back in the 1940s). So imagine to his surprise when you kindly reject him even then after he has become a living female fantasy.

He literally cannot contain his fury and forces himself on you the same day, ignoring your pleas when you beg him to stop because you wanted to save yourself for marriage and give your virginity to someone you love.

“Don’t worry, my love. It’s not a sin if we end up getting married. You will take me as your husband or I’m going to tell everyone how much of a whore you are for spreading your legs so easily for me.” Steve threatened.

You were so scared, and knowing you had little authority in this situation, you did as he said. You knew no one would side with you if you were to protest against the new hero of the country; Captain America.

A month later, the two of you married and became husband and wife. Steve made you into his little house wife, and for each mission he came home from, he would fuck you for hours until you passed out. You were so clueless of the things Steve did to you sometimes, like whenever he would thrust inside of you in a specific angle causing you to feel an arising sensation from your abdomen. You didn’t know what it was, but it felt good no matter how shameful you were of it.

Whenever you accidentally dropped something, like a plate of food or when you burned dinner in the oven because you forgot the time, Steve would punish you by harsh spanking, telling you how bad of a wife you are for messing up your husband’s food. You would cry and apologize profusely until he stopped and left you with a sore butt.

He would also take you when you were fast asleep. You were a light sleeper, and only would you wake up when he jackhammered into you, causing a burning feeling around your sore pussy. Steve was huge due to his bodily enhancement, and it took a while for you to get used to his size. He would hardly talk when he fucked you as his only mission was to cum for relief. Steve was a busy man after all, with the war still ongoing. The weeks he was gone were the most peaceful times of your life ever since Steve took claim of you.

One fateful day, a military personnel visited you at your house and gave you the unfortunate news of the Captain’s loss. You shedded tears, but not because of Steve’s death. It was rather because the nightmare of a life was finally over. You felt relieved knowing Steve could never put his hands on you ever again.

2 years pass by, and you have all forgotten about Steve Rogers. You would occasionally see his face on posters and articles, and while it brought back some of the trauma, you always reminded yourself that he was gone for good.

At least, you thought he was.

It was a day like any other in your small little suburban house that you moved to after selling Steve’s house, and you suddenly heard the doorbell ring to your front door. You shouted ‘coming!’ to whoever was waiting outside, and turned off the temperature of your oven where there were freshly baked cinnamon rolls waiting for you later.

You open the door, and it’s like your whole world shatters before your eyes. There he was, your unmistakably still alive husband standing there. He looked more older, and it was only 2 years ago he was announced dead.

“Hello, my love. Have you missed me?” He asked darkly. You shrieked and tried to escape through the back door, but it was too late. Steve ran after you and grabbed you around your waist and held you down on the floor, preventing you from struggling away.

“That is no way to greet your husband after thinking he was dead for such a long time. I expected better from you, my wife. Maybe you have forgotten who you belong to and I need to give your dumb little brain a reminder.” He said, and carried you upstairs to your bedroom.

He threw you onto the bed like a rag doll and started to tie your wrists with velvet ropes he had brought with him to the headboard. This was new to you from all your previous experiences of having sex with Steve, and it scared you. “S-Steve, what is this?..what are you-!”

“I’m going to fuck you so hard and make you wish you never pulled that little escape stunt earlier. Silly woman, thinking you stand a chance against me. You’re mine, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your dumb head understands that.”

He ripped your clothes off harshly, and he unbuttoned his trousers to free his cock from the restraints. You expected him to penetrate you like he always did before. That was the only type of sex you two were familiar with. But this ‘new’ version of Steve had different plans.

Your eyes widened when his face lowered at your pussy, causing you to feel distressed. “W-Wait, don’t do that!…I-It probably smells, I don’t want you to get too close to it!”

“Oh, Y/N, my sweet wife. You’re so clueless. What I did and did not do before I disappeared was when I was a boy. But I’m a man now, and I’m going to teach you so many things of how we can pleasure each other.”

His tongue stuck out of his mouth and he licked a stripe of your cunt, causing you to cry out a moan. You have never felt anything like this before. It almost felt unreal. It only got worse when his tongue glided between your pussy lips, gathering all your juices for him to savour.

“You taste delicious, my love. There isn’t a thing that’s more tastier than your sweet pussy…” he mumbled into your sensitive skin.

Steve never talked like this during sex, and somehow you preferred him not to talk because it made it easier to not enjoy it. This Steve however was making it harder to hate it with each new thing he did, and it made you feel horrible about yourself.

Suddenly, Steve used what felt like his thumb to rub at a particular spot. It caused your whole body to jolt at once like you were electrocuted, and you felt an overwhelming heat spread across your whole body.

“Do you know what this little pearl is, doll? It’s called a clitoris. It’s your most sensitive part of your pussy, and it will only be recognized as what engorges your wetness and surrounds your vagina in 2009 - about 70 years from now on. It also has about 8,000 nerve endings, which is why you become so sensitive when I touch it. Isn’t that fascinating, my love?”

You didn’t pick up a word of what he was rambling about because you were too out of it from his circling motion of rubbing your pearly nub. You couldn’t stop moaning and panting. Again came that familiar feeling of a rising high. Before you knew it, the feeling hit you like a wave and you felt your hole quivering.

“Aaaww, you just came. How cute….” He cooed, with a victorious grin. “Now, let’s get to the main course of this session. Haven’t been in this pussy for a loooong time. And I’m sure you’ve been a good girl not having anyone else inside you, right?”

You didn’t respond to that question, still pretty out of what had taken place moments earlier.

He slapped your cheek lightly but harsh enough to take you out from your daze. “Answer me, whore.”

“N-No! I haven’t, Steve! No one has been inside of me since you disappeared! I promise!” You answered with frantic.

He smiled again. “Good.”

He aimed his cock at your hole and shoved himself in with little care. He groaned loudly, sounding so content with the current feeling. “Oh, I’ve missed her…missed your pussy so much…I’ve missed you..” he said followed with a grunt. “I’m so glad I’m back. Back together with you.”

For the rest of the evening, he would torture you with new tricks of his that opened a new world of sex for you. By the end of the night, Steve had you wrapped in his strong arms, whispering the most obscene things and promises in your ear. Most of them were connected to one promise that made you dread for the future.

A promise of never leaving you ever again.

Note from author: this turned out a lot longer than I originally planned but I really enjoyed the concept and couldn’t help myself. I’m a hoe for endgame AND 40s Steve.🧍Anyways, thank you @sadbucksblog for sharing your idea! <3 Hope you enjoy it!

(This has been reposted here as I have deleted my old account!)

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

[enkas-illusion]

A Good Daddy

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Gojo Satoru x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Genre/Theme: Established relationship/marriage; non-sorcery au

Content warning: fluff, light angst, smut, oral (f.receiving), piv sex, bondage, dom!gojo, sub!reader, brat taming, overstimulation, pregnancy kink, unprotected sex, explicit sexual content, language.

Summary: Husband!Gojo with a pregnancy kink. When he sees you babysitting your close friend’s baby and can’t get the idea of seeing you with a baby bump, carrying his child, out of his head.

Author's Note: Satoru would be such a great dad and you can’t convince me otherwise! The kids are sure to be his exact clones, trusting him with their life cause they know their daddy is just that great 🥹🥹🥹. Daddy Gojo has taken over my brain and is manspreading on my thoughts! As always, I hope you enjoy this one shot. Thank you for reading! 

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Married Life (from UP) by Michael Giacchino / Daddy’s Home by USHER (aka Gojo theme™)

“Sup, how's it hanging? Long time no see,” you say coolly as you see your husband walking out of the kitchen towards you.

You have your knitting kit in hand, body nestling into the soft cushions of the sofa, belly feeling like it’s about to burst after the delicious dinner you just had. 

Satoru lifts your feet up before resting them on his lap as he sits on the opposite end of the sofa. He's massaging your feet with utmost care.

“Where do I even begin?! A lot has happened since we last saw each other about 10 minutes ago. I washed the dishes!” He sighs, raising his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner while his palm presses flat on the bottom of your foot to stretch your achilles tendon, melting the stiffness away, “And what about you? How have you been, stranger?”

You hold the half knitted lavender patch up to show it to him, “I am making a beanie for Hina. It's getting colder so I figured she'd have a cute little warm beanie to go on her cute little head.” 

Satoru crinkles his nose at this before confessing, “Cute. Do we need to babysit her anytime soon again? I miss the little devil.”

“‘Toru, I doubt Rin and Kento go out without their baby that often,” you let out a breathy laugh when he massages the top of your foot with a soothing firmness.

“Maybe we should make one of our own then I'll miss her less,” Satoru pouts, trying to test the waters carefully to see if it was the right chance to bring up the topic. Afterall, it's what he had been thinking about the entire week.

The baby in question was 8 months old Hina, your best friend's baby. The couple rarely went out ever since they had the baby – so the handful of times that Rin and her husband Kento needed a babysitter, you’d happily volunteered, not minding it ruining your Saturday night plans.

And although Satoru would pout at this each time, he secretly didn’t mind taking care of the toddler with you. It almost felt like a ‘trial’ run for when you’d have your own kids in the future – mini versions of you and him. And so he looked forward to babysitting little Hina as he got glimpses of the motherly side of you.

Your husband knew that you wanted to wait a while before you made the huge decision of bringing a child into this world and he was on the same page… until recently. He knew he was having a change of heart on the matter when his daydreams of seeing you with a baby bump started to spiral out of control over the last month.

What broke the camel’s back was an incident from a week ago – when he’d rushed out of the room to tell you he’d won a game of Counter-Strike against Suguru, you’d gently motioned him to be quiet, cradling the sleeping baby in your lap. He silently made his way to you when he saw the baby was clutching a strand of your hair in her sleep. Since you couldn’t move, he took it on himself to free your hair from the toddler’s strong grip. But just as he did that, Hina wrapped her tiny fingers around his thumb, holding it tightly in her sleep. When he looked up at you, you smiled at him with your loving eyes – it was when he’d decided that he wanted to impregnate you asap.

He had trouble falling asleep that night. You, on the other hand, were sleeping peacefully, after fulfilling your duty as the babysitter diligently. You’d wished Satoru goodnight right after handing Hina over to her parents, who’d returned from their date well into the night, leaving no opportunity for your husband to bring up the topic. 

With much difficulty when he did manage to fall asleep, he’d woken up sweating profusely at the wet dream he had where he came inside you instead of pulling out as per usual. He turned to his side trying his best to control his urges to recreate his dream as he slid his hand up under your tshirt to play with your soft nipples, making you stir in your sleep.

“Wifey… let’s make a baby,” he’d whispered, peppering your neck with soft kisses. You mumbled something incoherent as you turned to wrap your arm around his waist, still deep asleep. He sighed as he pulled his hand away, forcing himself to fall asleep, convincing himself that it was just his horny fantasies talking.

Oh how wrong he was! Here he was, a week later, baby fever running higher than ever. 

You look up from the knitting hooks, before giggling, “Yeah, right…”

“Love, I’m serious,” he mumbles, bringing your left leg up to his face to kiss your foot.

“‘Toru, why are you springing this on me so suddenly? You agreed we'd wait a while…” you sigh as you begin, sitting up as you pull your feet away from his hold.

“Yes but–”

“Satoru… we just got married. We need to get used to our married life first. We need to be with each other before we decide to bring a whole new being into this world,” you explain softly, telling him things he already knew.

“But technically, we've been together for almost 6 years now, I say we're beyond ready,” he protests.

“No, I doubt we're mature enough for the responsibility,” you retort.

“But imagine mini versions of us two running around the house,” he places his hands on your feet once again, pleading with a twinkle in his eyes akin to a kid begging for candy at a store.

“Please! My genes won't even fight, our baby will look like you,” you laugh.

“Then we can just make another one,” he says in a playful tone.

“Well… I have a feeling both of our babies will end up looking like you,” you roll your eyes at him.

“Then what about the next 2?” he says hopefully.

“Next 2? ONLY 2!” you scold him softly. He raises an eyebrow at you and you give him a calculated reasoning, “Just so that they have someone they share an unbreakable bond with and aren't lonely while growing up.”

“Exactly! I say the more the merrier!” he squeezes your feet in excitement.

“Satoru, I'm not a baby machine!” you slide your leg to his lap to nudge his thigh jokingly, “Besides, counting you I'd have 3 babies anyway.”

“Now you're just coming up with whatever excuses,” he snickers, slapping your foot away before shuffling to sit closer to you.

“Oh really?” you furrow your eyebrows as you sit up completely in front of him, sensing the conversation taking a serious turn. You place the knitting yarn and hook to the side on the coffee table.

“Yes really,” he kisses your temple to dissolve the wrinkle there. He always does that whenever you seem annoyed at him as he knows it never fails to make you giggle instantly. However, you simply fold your arms over your chest and give him a stern look.

“No… don’t do this. Talk to me Satoru, I’m serious…” you speak and he drops the playful act, nodding and signalling you to put your point across before he gets his chance to speak.

You sigh as you begin, “You’re the love of my life and I don't doubt for a second that you'd be an amazing father with time but I also believe you don't have the attention span or patience that taking care of a newborn requires, at least for now.”

“Are you being serious right now?” he folds his hands over his chest, sitting up straight.

The crinkle on your forehead fades as you try to find the best words to explain your point to your husband without seeming too harsh, “I'm sorry love, I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just saying… for example, when I was trying to get Hina to sleep, you were screaming at your xbox each time something happened. It made her wake up a few times before she finally fell asleep–”

“You should’ve told me, I would’ve tried to be quiet,” he pouts, slumping and leaning back on the sofa.

“‘Toru… I literally called your phone since I couldn’t yell at you but you were too busy with your game to notice.”

“You know I don't play everyday– okay, if it’s just that, I don’t see a problem. I can change that habit,” he says with a determined look on his face.

“Baby, I'm not trying to change you. But you have to realise that things change drastically when there’s a baby involved, whether you want them to or not,” you explain and he can tell you’re tired by the way your voice sounds. You bring your hand up to rub your temple, letting out a deep exhale.

He dips his head low, mumbling something along the lines of ‘but I'd be a good dad.’

“You tried to feed her chocolate saying she loved the taste! You're not supposed to feed them stuff like that till they're like… one! I don’t think you’re ready for such a huge responsibility just yet,” The tone of your voice is strict, a little louder than you’d like it to be and you already feel guilty at raising your voice at him.

He opens his mouth as if to say something but then shuts it back again. “What is it?” you urge him to speak.

“Nothing… it’s alright, I get it. You don't want me to be the father of your babies,” He mutters as he tries getting up. You grab his wrist to stop him from leaving, giving him a ‘you know that's not true’ look.

He sighs as he sits back down, “Okay maybe what you're saying is kinda true. I don't know much about babies besides the fact that they're like cute mini humans. But I can learn, you know? No one has a manual on how to be the best father but I know I will give it my 100%”

When he sees a faint smile return to your face, it encourages him to continue to convince you, “Maybe I might surprise you. Remember when you first thought I wasn't the type to take aftercare seriously but then you told me how surprised you were when I made you feel good during and after our first time?”

“Yeah,” you blush at him, rolling your eyes playfully, “You are good at that.”

“So let me show you baby… I’ll prove it to you, I'll be the best daddy,” He leans his weight on your body, trapping you between the cushions to kiss you. You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning into his mouth when his hands play with your breasts from over your t-shirt. 

When he dips his face down to your neck, sucking you where he knows will have you putty in his hand, you take a shaky breath, biting your lip at the sensation.

“Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum– gonna make your pretty belly swell,” he whispers as his head moves down, lifting up your t-shirt along with your bra to expose your chest before latching his mouth onto one of your hardened buds.

You bring your hands down to place them firmly on his chest as you push him away lightly, letting out a heavy sigh. Satoru stops as he moves back up to look into your eyes, eyebrows knitted.

You simply let out another sigh as you break eye contact to look to the side. He waits for you to speak but when the moment passes, he pulls away completely. You pull your t-shirt down and fix your bra quietly, actively avoiding his gaze.

“I'm going to bed, night,” he mumbles, getting up off the sofa to retire to the bedroom without waiting for your reply. He didn't kiss you good night, he almost never does that unless he's really upset. But why can't he understand where you're coming from?

Can't you understand where he’s coming from?

You close your eyes briefly as you slump onto the sofa. You rest one arm on your forehead as your head starts going into overthinking mode. However, your train of thought is broken before it can reach a destination when your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out lazily as you open the text you’d just received from Rin.

Rin:

Look how cute this is! I never knew I had this in my phone!

<1 attachment>

You download the picture and your heart flutters when you see that it’s a photo of Satoru holding baby Hina in a loving embrace. It’s a picture taken on your wedding day, your husband’s crisp white shirt wrinkled by the way he’s holding the baby and smiling at her lovingly. She must’ve been barely 2 months old at the wedding. You can’t help but smile at the photo, your heart aching when you remember that the same man is sleeping in the other room, upset with you. You’re pulled out of your thoughts once again when your phone rings.

“Did you see the picture? Aren’t they the cutest? I was just telling Kento about how I wish you guys should have a baby soon. It’d make Hina a big sister,” your friend squeals. You laugh back at her but it’s due to the absurdity of her timing.

“Seriously, I’d love to see Satoru being a dad,” she adds when you don’t say anything.

You laugh again, “Right, that makes it the two of you.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“I mean that Satoru and I just had a small disagreement about this,” you press your hand to your temple, massaging it. 

Rin stays quiet for a moment before you hear her speak again, “Do you remember that day? He had taken off his suit coat, not because he was worried Hina would spoil it, but because he thought the fabric of his shirt was softer for her to rest her head on.”

You nod, not realising she can’t see you, before you reply with a quiet ‘hmm’.

“All I’m saying is that I know you fear him being too easy going, but Satoru is a serious guy, he knows when to take responsibility diligently,” your friend continues, reminding you of the things you already know and adore about your man. 

You almost tear up – you'd been overthinking this so much that you forgot to acknowledge Satoru for the man that he is. Of course he'd be a great dad!

Even if Rin hears you sniff, she doesn’t comment on it. Instead she asks, “Oh by the way, do you have her blue binky?”

“Huh?”

“It must be at your place. I can't find it here and Hina’s been raising hell cause it's one of her favourites,” Rin explains.

“Oh, just a min–” You look around the sofa, digging your hands into the creases and corners in hopes of finding it. 

“It's here!” you exclaim but your smile fades as you observe the tiny object in your hand, a realisation hitting you with the speed of lightning.

You had been projecting. Sure, having a baby was going to be hard but you were worried about being a bad mother more than Satoru being a bad father. Taking care of a growing life, who’s primarily dependent on you for everything, requires a lot of patience. Making sure your tiny human receives everything it deserves isn’t an easy task at all times. 

Yet, despite all of this, if there’s one thing you knew without a speck of doubt, it was that you wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else but the love of your life, Gojo Satoru. You're brought back to reality, breaking from your ruminations when you hear your friend’s voice calling your name once again.

“Sorry… hey– let me call you back?” you mumble.

“Sure, take care. Good night. See you tomorrow,” your friend speaks softly before hanging up. 

You drop your phone on the sofa as you get up to make your way to the bedroom. When you walk in, you find Satoru sleeping on his side, his back turned to you.

“Baby, are you asleep?” you speak softly. He doesn't respond but you know he's awake – he can never fall asleep when he's lying on his right side.

Shit, he’s really mad.

You quietly strip off your sweatpants and t-shirt, leaving you only in your bra and underwear before hopping on the bed to get closer to your husband.

“‘Toru, my love,” you coo softly as you kiss his cheek from behind. He turns to look at you, poker face on. You catch his eyes wandering down to your cleavage briefly but he doesn’t break his composure nonetheless.

You lean forward to press your chest against his, kissing him on the lips but he's annoyingly stiff. You sit back up as you pout at him.

“Please don't be mad at me baby,” you murmur as your fingers draw lazy circles over the expanse of his chest. Just as you move your hand down his torso, dangerously closer to his crotch, he grabs your wrist and flips your bodies so that you’re trapped under him.

Your giggles come to an abrupt halt and you bite your lip when you feel his hips press against you, fully aware of his evidently erect bulge.

“And why shouldn't I be mad at you?” He mocks, bringing his right hand up to your neck, his long fingers gripping the sides firmly.

“Because you love me?” You pout as you bat your eyelashes at him. He lets out a dry chuckle as his fingers choke you lightly.

“Not enough. Gotta try harder than that baby.”

“I'm sorry, ‘Toru… maybe you can forgive the mother of your future children,” you bring a hand up to caress his cheek.

“Hmm… should I?” He says, adding a bit more pressure. When you let out a quiet gasp, he dips his head down to kiss your parted lips hungrily. Your breathing gets heavier as his tongue explores your mouth, the sloppy wetness of your salivas mixing together making your pussy throb in excitement. Your hands move up to his hair, tugging at his blonde locks.

You whimper into his mouth when he bites your lower lip, pulling it out before releasing it with a soft plop. His grip on your throat releases as his hand slides underneath to unclasp your bra before hastily taking it off and tossing it aside.

You cup his face so that he’s looking into your eyes when you speak. His demeanour almost collapses at what you say next.

“Satoru… don’t pull out. Please fill me up. Don't stop till you put a baby in my belly,” you say timidly, the heat in your cheeks rising. He knows that you know just how much your words get to him and use it to your advantage often – usually he’d let you but this time, he doesn't want to let you have your way with him just yet. He wants to toy with you for a bit first.

“Maybe I've changed my mind?” he says with a smug look on his face. Your hands move down to his hips, hooking into the band of his sweatpants to push them down along with his underwear to his thighs, freeing his dick from its restraints. You lift your hips up to feel his hard on against your core. 

“I doubt,” you bite back, deceitful innocence in your eyes, “...but I could just go to sleep if you're not up for it.”

Your husband lets out a low chuckle as he grabs your jaw firmly, shaking his head at you, “You're not going anywhere until I'm done with you.”

In an attempt to rile him up further, you decide to mock him as you repeat his words in a condescending tone, “You're not going anywhere until– AHH!”

Big mistake.

Within a second Satoru flips you over till you're lying on your stomach, caging you in place with his knees dipping into the mattress on either side of you. He leans back to pull your underwear off and your heart picks up its pace when he grabs both your wrists to tie them behind your back with the flimsy fabric in a tight, makeshift knot.

He pushes your head into the pillow before landing a rough slap on your ass. He kneads the skin right after to soothe the stinging sensation.

“‘Toru–” you whimper. He ignores your pleading voice, simply tapping two fingers over your ass. You know what he wants and you obey immediately, lifting your hips up off the mattress. He folds your thighs further in till your back is arched with your ass up in the air, on display for him.

“You know what happens when you act bratty,” he kneads your asscheeks with both of his hands before clawing at the flesh. You push back in response and he laughs, “... or maybe you’re just a masochist.”

He lands another sharp spank, causing you to let out a tiny sob into the pillow. 

“Tell me what you want baby,” he teases. Your head turns to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face behind you but your movement’s restricted, rendering your attempts useless.

If there’s one thing that Satoru claims to lose his mind over is the look in your eyes. He often calls your eyes his ‘weakness’, confessing he’d do anything you ask of him when you look at him with those fucked out eyes during sex. So for him to take away his weakness, typically with a blindfold, is when you know you’re really fucked.

“Didn’t you have a lot to say just now, love?” he mocks and you feel two fingers glide over your exposed cunt. You sigh at the sensation, letting out soft moans when his fingers begin to play with your folds.

“‘Toru– more,” you beg and he slides two fingers inside you. You hum in pleasure but huff when you’re reminded of the annoyance of being restricted each time you try to move your arms.

His movements are excruciatingly slow and it’s making you lose your mind and patience. You try to chase his touch, failing miserably at getting him to push his fingers deeper inside you. Satoru lets out a condescending chuckle at your poor attempt, “Are you really that desperate for me baby?”

You huff and you’re about to complain but it turns into broken moans when he starts pumping his fingers into you – the squelching sound of your pussy blending with drawn out cries of his name.

“Aww, does my wife like it when I do this?” he teases, curving his fingers inside to rub your walls, massaging a particular spot that has you begging him for more. Your thighs tremble and your pussy flutters around his fingers. “Guess she really does!” you hear him squeal before he pulls his fingers out completely, depriving you of all contact within a second.

“Satoru! S– stop being so mean!” you scold him with shallow breaths.

“Satoru! Stop being so mean!” he laughs as he mocks you, his fingers lightly grazing over your folds.

“Baby… pl–please, I’m sorry,” you cry, desperate for his touch.

“What for, baby?” he nudges further, his finger inching towards your clit.

“For teasing you– mmh,” you whimper when he rubs over the bundle of nerves.

“But that’s not why I’m mad…”

“‘Toru please–”

“Yes?” he sings.

“Fuc– I’m sorry… I was wrong, you’ll be a great dad– ahh,” you squeeze your eyes shut when he pinches your clit.

“That’s it,” he coos softly and you feel him come up behind you to kiss your shoulder, “was that so hard, baby?” he moves down to bite one of your tied wrists, moving further down to kiss the skin over your tailbone. You feel his fingers dig into your ass, pulling the flesh apart before diving his face down as he begins lapping at your cunt with a brutal pace. 

Your ass jerks up at the sudden touch and he continues his ministrations, alternating between sucking your clit and licking down till his tongue’s dipping inside your hole, wiggling it in. You twist your wrists, feeling the urge to grab at something, anything to steady yourself, yet it’s a futile attempt.

“Toru– too much,” your tears wetting the pillow as you feel your legs shake, threatening to collapse at any moment. Satoru is quick to sit up straight and you feel his shuffling movement behind you and see him toss the bundle of his clothes to the side before settling behind you once again, wedging his knees between yours to spread them wider. He taps his swollen tip over your folds, rubbing it back and forth to coat it with your wet slick. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel him push the tip in, splitting your walls to adjust to his length. Once he’s completely buried inside you, he grips the side of your hips to support you, “Gonna fill you up so good baby.”

“Oh god– Sa–toru–” you howl when he pulls almost his entire length out before thrusting back into you. When his pace builds up, your body jerks slightly forward due to the force of his thrusts. His grip on your sides tightens as he pulls your hips back to slam you back against him.

The sound of your skin slapping fills the air along with both of your moans and groans. When you wiggle your wrists again in a desperate attempt, the knot loosens just enough for you to wring your wrist free. You bring one hand down to support your weight while the other moves behind you to claw at his forearm.

Satoru hisses at the sudden contact as he twists your wrist, holding it against your lower back while his other hand snakes around your throat, pulling you back till you’re sitting up flush against his chest. His other hand hooks around your waist as he starts bouncing your torso up and down on his dick at the same time he slams up into you.

You free the hand behind your back to pull his face closer while twisting your neck to look back, kissing him frantically, the wet trail of your tears smudging and transferring onto his skin. 

At a particularly rough thrust, Satoru’s knee slides slightly, making his balance stumble a bit. He lets out a breathy ‘fuck’ as he pulls out abruptly. 

“‘Toru?”

“Shhh–” he orders as he grips your waist tightly to pull you down till you both are lying down on your left side, his chest pressed against your back. He adjusts his position to hook your legs around his, opening you up wider for him as he brings his hand down to guide his dick back near your entrance to shove it in your swollen hole. 

His hand is shaky as he brings it to your clit to rub circles as he resumes thrusting into you ruthlessly once again. You cry his name out loud at how good this new motion hits and he bites your shoulder. You know he’s close by how erratic his thrusts get.

His other arm that is placed beneath you comes up to pinch your nipples, the added stimulation is too intense for you as you feel the muscles in your stomach tighten more than they already have. His nose buries in the crook of your neck as his lips bite your skin harshly. When he starts sucking on your favourite spot behind your ear, it causes goosebumps to rise all over your body.

You claw at his biceps as you turn your head back to look at him. He looks so fucked out and the fact that he gets this way only for you is what overwhelms your senses even further.

“Fuck–” his eyebrows knit as he leans down to kiss you. You feel your body twitch as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter before letting go completely, causing your walls to pulse around his cock as you reach your orgasm.

Your moans are swallowed by his kisses and your grip on his locks loosens. When you break away from the kiss to catch your breath, you stare at his face and your eyebrows knit when you see the way a string of saliva connects your lips with his. Your chest heaves as you look into his eyes and you can tell he’s close. 

“Fuck– fuck– shi–” he grunts as he shuts his eyes, biting your shoulder once again and you feel him shoot his load inside, painting your walls. With broken thrusts, he slows down before stopping completely. He stays inside you for a few seconds before pulling out and shutting your legs close to keep his cum from spilling out.

You let out a tired laugh at this as you close your eyes, suddenly feeling hyper aware of everything that had just transpired, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. He readjusts your position so that you’re lying flat on your back, while he moves on top of you till his head is resting on the valley of your breasts. 

You open your eyes when you feel him tug at your wrist and you see him free it from your underwear that was still hanging limply there. As he holds the fabric up, you see that the elasticity of its band had been completely destroyed. You see red marks on your wrist where it was secured tightly. Satoru pulls your hand down to kiss your wrist, mumbling a ‘sorry’ and turning his head to kiss your other wrist.

You simply hum as you close your eyes again, calming your breathing and nerves. You feel him rub circles over your stomach before moving down to kiss you over your belly button. He brings both his hands up to intertwine his fingers with yours, peppering soft kisses all over your stomach.

“So… care to explain what changed your mind so quickly?” he asks.

You nod as you slowly open your eyes, gulping as you look down to meet his gaze. He moves up till he’s at your eye level, expectantly waiting for your answer, pinning your hands to the sides of your head.

You bite your lip nervously as you begin, “Sorry for insinuating that you’d be a bad father. It wasn’t my intention – I just got scared. I know you’ll be a great papa, I don’t doubt it for a second…” you look away to avoid his gaze, “... sorry for projecting my insecurities onto you– I’m just worried if I’d be able to be a good mom.”

“Baby… you’re so smart, yet sometimes you say the dumbest shit,” he chuckles softly as he brings one hand up to cup your face, “I’ve seen the way you take care of Hina… seeing you be so kind and loving is what made me go crazy about wanting our own babies. I want kids because I’d get to be a parent with you… so that you can be the mother of my children. Don’t go thinking about crazy hypotheticals like that!”

“Hmm, thank you baby. But taking care of Hina is easy when it’s only for a couple of hours at a time. Having our own baby will be like a full time job. I listen to the way Rin sometimes jokes that she doesn’t even have time alone with Kento cause she’s so tired oft–”

“Hey, hey… breathe,” Satoru interrupts you, resting his forehead against yours and your face relaxes as you close your eyes, taking deep breaths. “Even if all of that is true, you have me with you. I’m not leaving your side even for a second, my love. We’re in this together. Taking care of our baby and his pretty mommy is my responsibility and I’m gonna do it right.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes as you look up at him and he smiles softly at you, “I love you.”

You tilt your head slightly to kiss him before speaking, “I love you so much Satoru. I wouldn’t want to have anyone else’s baby.”

“Oh thank goodness! Wanting a baby only with your husband is the ideal thing after all,” he laughs breathily and you slap his chest lightly. 

“Besides, I think we’ll be ready by the time I actually conceive. I’ve heard that it takes a few months for some couples, so who knows, right?” you think out loud.

“Please,” he snickers, “I’ve got the best swimmers, there’s no way in hell you won’t be pregnant after tonight…”

You giggle as you pull him down till he’s lying on top of you completely like your own personal weighted blanket.

He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, “... but just to be sure, let’s go another round… make it certain.”

“‘Toru! I’m tired” you laugh as you try to pull him off of you but he continues kissing down your neck. You close your eyes at how sensitive your skin feels against his kisses.

“Then just lie down. I’ll do all the work, princess,” your husband winks at you before circling his tongue around one of your already hardened nipples. 

You hum contentedly as you rest your head back down, melting into the pillow and accepting your fate – you were going to have to run on very little sleep tomorrow.

~fin~

[shu-porang-porang]

Bunny In Heat

(Cat In Heat sequel)

Read Cat In Heat and you’ll know what to expect 😊

Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader

Rating: Very Explicit!

Theme: Smut, 18+ NO MINORS.

Warnings: It's just pure filth, I have no shame, sorry! soft dom reader, sub minho, toys, butt plug, spanking, edging, overstimulation, pet names, unprotected sex (do not try at home!), (and as usual, I keep some elements of surprise!), not proofread

Word count: 3 k

“OMG!! What’s this?!” you scream.

“What’s what?” he turns his head towards your direction.

You show him the vid from the fan meeting where Chan, Hyunjin and Changbin are dancing with tails attached to their coats.

“Oh that! Yea it turned out to be such a popular clip among fans, you saw it just now?”

“If you ain’t on it I’m not watching, I’m that loyal!” you bat your lashes looking at him with a fake smile.

“You mean I won’t find any pics or clips of other members in your gallery?” He called your bluff.

“uhmm that’s irrelevant! Now tell me more about this clip!! Is there a longer version? Maybe one with you in it?”

“No, I’m not in it, but the idea was mine, thanks to you!” he says with a smirk.

“You didn’t… tell me you didn’t talk about our sex life with your members!”

“What if I did?”

You freeze, just stare at him with your jaw dropped on the floor. When his words sink in, you hide your face in your hands and shout: “MIN-FUCKING-HOE, WHY?”

He laughs at your reaction: “I can’t help it that you’re so mind-blowingly awesome that I wanna brag about you all the time.”

“It’s so embarrassing! How am I ever supposed to look them in the eyes again?” you shake your head as if you could shake the embarrassment off too.

 “Oh calm down, it’s okay. They’ve known for a while; you’ve already looked them in the eyes plenty of times.”

“Oh fuck! You’re so shameless, I’m done with you.” you cry out, punching him in the chest.

He grabs your wrists with one hand and with the other puts the hair messily covering your face from all the attempt of shaking off the embarrassment, behind your ears.

“Awe cute! Look how red your ears got.” He’s not taking it seriously, it’s obviously not a big deal to him, but you’re still pretty mad and don’t even look him in the eyes.

“Come on princess, I promise you they don’t even care.”

“Well, with that clip I’m sure they at least have a very solid reminder.”

“How does it feel to be the reason of a key moment in skz history?” he jokes but you’re not having it.

“Oh, fuck off! Just know that you owe me one.”

“I owe you as much as you say, no arguing that.” He cups your face and seals his words with a kiss.

“Then wear a tail for me.” You demand.

He looks confused but plays along: “Okay? Do you want me to sneak one from the company?”

“No, I don’t want those crappy ones, and is there like a room full of furry accessories at the company or sth?!!”

“I don’t think there is; I shouldn’t’ve offered that!”

“I’ll take care of it then.” Poor thing doesn’t know what’s gonna hit him. You already forgot about the unveiling of your sex life, if anything, now it’s just an excuse to get what you want from him.

Two weeks later, when you finally gathered all the items you needed, you present him his little outfit. A bunny head piece and a matching tail, choker and cuffs, all adorned with frilly fabrics and little jewels. You didn’t wanna cover his beautiful body, so you kept the items to a minimum. He gulps as he eyes the shiny plug poking at the end of the tail.

“You asked me to wear a tail, not a plug” He complains.

“But the plug is attached to the tail, how else did you expect to wear the tail?”

“Attach it to my shorts or sth?”

“But that would look off and ugly” you reason. “Come on baby! I promise it’s not that bad, and you would look so delicious. Pretty please?” you pout and wait for his answer, as much as you wanna do unspeakable things to him, you wouldn’t lay as much as a finger on him if he wasn’t okay with it. Same goes with wearing the plug.

“Okay I’ll do it” he finally gives in. “but why is it so girly?” he points to the cute decorations.

“Says the guy who wears red bows and tiaras for a living!!” you raise and eyebrow giving him a “you’re full of shit” look.

“fair point” once again, he surrenders. “So is that it? I’m just gonna fuck you wearing these?”

“Why don’t you go change and wait for me on the bed, I’ll tell you how it’s gonna be” you give him a smack on the ass sending him towards your bedroom.

“Ouch!” the smack caught him off guard.

“Oooh baby, you gotta toughen up if you wanna survive tonight” he roles his eyes at you words and disappears into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

After a few minutes, you tiptoe and press your ear to the door, you can hear him still shuffling around, and when you hear him curse you realize he must be trying the plug. Arousal is pooling between your legs already. You wanna barge in and give him a hand but you think it’s better for the sake of his dignity if he gets through this part on his own, considering the rest of the events you’ve planned.

“I’m ready” he calls out.

Your heart is pounding in your chest with excitement. You open the door and peek in. He’s kneeling near the edge of the bed, back facing you so you can see the tail, neck craning to see the expression on your face. “You look so pretty baby boy” you say as you approach him in awe. You notice the blush creeping up to his cheeks at the compliment and he turns his around to hide it but you can still see his crimson ears.

Standing behind him, your fingers dance on his toned back and travel down to pet the fluffy tail. You don’t even touch the plug but playing with the extension of the tail alone earns you a few airy whimpers.

“Aweeee! Is my bunny’s tail sensitive?” you ask, twirling the tail around your hand. He doesn’t answer, probably too ashamed to admit.

“Baby if you don’t answer me, I can’t make you feel good” you coo at him lovingly “what if you don’t get to cum at all?” you give the tail an experimental tug and he winces. “So, tell me baby, does it feel good when I play with your cute tail?”

“Yea… it feels good…" he admits in a low tone.

“Now turn around baby, I wanna see that pretty face”

He complies and shifts around on the bed while you rid yourself of your clothes and reveal the lingerie you’d bought for this special occasion.  

“God, you’re breathtaking!” he exclaims. You crawl on the bed and he watches you with blown pupils. You straddle him and his arms are quick to circle around you and pull you closer. He starts nibbling at your collarbone but you push him back. He looks at you confused, trying to figure out what he did wrong.

“Do you trust me baby?” you ask, giving him a quick peck on his lips.

“I do” he answers, nuzzling his nose to your neck.

“Then no touching or kissing without my permission, okay?”

“But..” you put a finger on his lips to shush him. “If you can’t keep your hands to yourself, I might have to tie them up” you bend down over the edge of the bed to take a box you put under the bed earlier, giving him a good view of your folds barely covered by the piece of lingerie in the process.

You show him your hidden inventory, with handcuffs and satin ribbons and a few other unfamiliar stuffs. You notice his semi-hard cock twitching. You grab an item from the box “do you remember our safe word?” you ask as you stroke his cock slowly.

“Ye… yes..”

“Good boy, now remember, you can end up cumming inside, or not cumming at all, so behave” you warn him one last time as you message his balls before putting them inside the loop of a pink cock ring and then roll the other loop to his base. He watches in disbelief; he did not see it coming. You reach for your phone on the nightstand, open an app and set the vibration to the lowest setting. He closes his eyes and throws his head back, enjoying the excruciatingly slow buildup of the pleasure. He leans back on his hands, slightly arching his back, his chest heaves up and down, bringing the pointy dusky nipples to your attention. As much as you enjoy the view, you still need to ravish him.

“Get on fours baby” your voice snaps him out of his trance. He complies and you position yourself behind him. If he could he would wag the tail at your face, showing you what a good boy he is for you.

You kiss his thighs, marking him here and there, then give his cheek a little squeeze, his ass goes higher in the air, needing more attention from you. You twist the plug around and his face goes further down to the mattress, muffling his moans.

“You know what we never tried? Milking your prostate” without a warning you yank the plug out and replace it with your fingers. He hisses at the sudden action.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel good” your fingers message his walls in search of the bundle of nerves and you know you found it when he suddenly goes: “Aaaaah…”

“What happened?” you decide to mess around a bit.

“There…”

“Where? Did I find it?” you miss it on purpose just to press harder the next time you “accidentally” brush over it. He fists the sheets and lets out another high-pitched moan.

“Right... there”

“Oh! Here?” you rub it again and he squirms. You pick a steady pace thrusting your fingers in and out, hitting his sweet spot with every thrust. His little “ah… ah… ah…” makes your own core throb. You land a spank on his ass that ripples through it beautifully, jolting his body forward a bit.

“Please…more…”

“More what bunny?”

“Sla …. Aaaah…” you give it to him before he can even say the word. You give him a few more till your hand print is burning bright red on his cheek.

“Cum…. Hurts…” he’s such a mess he can’t even form sentences anymore.

“But don’t you wanna fuck me?” you say as you brutally press harder on his prostate and set the vibration to a higher speed.

“I do…. Please…. Hurts” he cries out.

You stop your ministrations on his prostate and guide his hips to roll him on his back. He whines at the loss. He’s such a sight to see. Hair sticking out in all directions, tears spilling from his closed eyes, his aching shaft rock hard, the tip red and swollen, begging for release. Your mouth waters, you kiss his erection from base to tip, lick the head and wrap your lips around it. He jerks his hips as your tongue pokes under the slit.

“Pleeeeeease…” he arches his back off the bed, his toes curling at the climax that just won’t hit.   

You release his cock with a pop:“Open your eyes bunny” you hover above him; he looks at you with glossy eyes.

“I’ve been ...good … please…”

“Okay sweet baby,” you kiss his teary eyes “but you should get it up again, okay?” he nods his head “yes”.

You kiss him and reach your hand down and fumble with the ring to pull it off. He lets out a guttural moan as he shoots up, his load getting everywhere. You pump him till the last drop is spilled and his cock starts to go limp in your hand. You tug at it a few more times just to tease and hear his tiny annoyed voice asking you to stop.

“We can’t stop now baby, not after you got me so turned on by your needy pleas and all” you grind down on his sticky member, mixing his seeds with the arousal leaking through the thin fabric covering your soppy pussy.

You reach for the box and feed him the last piece of the aphrodisiac chocolate: “Here’s a little treat for a good bunny”.

“Can I touch you now? Please” he asks, still being a good boy even though had had his release. You look at his hands, the lacy cuffs around his wrists make his dainty fingers a thousand times more delicious looking. You grab one hand and bring it to your lips, kissing its knuckles, then guide it to your pussy. “See what you made of me?” his fingers slip through the gap in the fabric and get sticky with your arousal. You bring the hand back up to lick the fingers clean.

“You can touch me love, and kiss too” hearing this, he sits up to properly hold you and kiss you, his hands rubbing the smooth skin on your sides, running up and down your back, squeezing your breasts, suddenly they’re everywhere. He’s kissing you like a man starved, pulling at your bottom lip, sucking on your tongue, you pick up the faint taste of chocolate still lingering in his mouth. You let him have his feast, kissing you and marking you everywhere, your fingers pulling at his damp hair encourage him to leave darker marks you know will last for at least a week.

He sucks at the exposed skin of your breasts while cupping and kneading the clothed part. You stop him and lift his chin up to look him in the eye. God, he looks like such a mess! Saliva smearing on his mouth, his eyes a bit red and still glossy, his cheeks flushed. You kiss the tip of his nose: “do you wanna suck on my tits?” you ask and he nods. “Then take this like the good boy you are” you instruct him to get on fours again. You circle his rim with a finger and he shivers with excitement, You insert a finger in, it’s still somewhat loose, then unbeknownst to him, you insert a small vibrator and turn it on. You see his dick twitch between his thighs, followed by a series of muffled moans.

“Aweeee! Look you’re getting hard again! What a slut!” you tease and then enter the plug so it’s pressing the vibrator harder against his prostate.

“Turn around bunny, I wanna ride you.” he does as ordered. Meanwhile you take your lingerie off, and straddle him as soon as he finds a somewhat comfortable position with the vibrator and the plug still invading his hole. You rub your core on his semi-hard dick: “what got you hard again my little slut? Was it the chocolate or the vibrator?” you ask as you brush his hair away from his eyes.

“You, you did it” he says before pulling you in for a kiss. You smile against his lips, he’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted. You kiss some more till you feel his erection poking at you, so you line it with your entrance and slide down. He rests his head on your shoulder as you take him in, huffs of hot breath tickle your bare skin. As you start to move your hips, his lips travel down to take the reward you promised him. He sucks on your tits like his life depends on it. The wet noises he makes mixed with his moans and groans every time you drop on his cock a bit too hard, get your juices flowing even more. Your thighs are burning and from the way they shake, he notices you can’t go like this for much longer.

He stops your hips: “let me fuck you”.

“Please do” you let go, you don’t wanna be in control anymore, you just need a good fuck and he’ll make sure you’ll get it.

He flips you around and enters you from behind. Holding back all night practically made him feral. He pulls the vibrator out but keeps the plug in, that was the main point after all, fucking you while looking like a bunny! His hips snap into you, firm and strong. Your moans hiccup with every thrust of his hips.

“So good…. So tight…” he picks up his pace yet he never fails to hit the spot that makes you see stars.

“Minho-ya….” his name falls off your lips as you clench around his cock, one of the telltales of your nearing orgasm.

“Fuck baby…. cum for me” and you fall apart. He gives you a few slow thrusts to help you ride your climax before He goes back to grabbing your hips tighter and pounding into you despite your squirming. The over stimulation makes you whimper and whine.

“You’re doing great…. Just a bit more…. It’s okay….” He encourages you till he finally shoots his load up your pussy. “Fuck…. so good…” he collapses next to you panting. You roll on your side to face him, he’s still recovering his breath, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, sweat shining on his face. You kiss the hair stuck to his temple. He opens his eyes, giving you a crooked smile.

“You were such a good bunny” you pat his hair and take the headpiece off that somehow managed to stay there the entire night. Your hand travels down his back to gently take the plug out. You massage over the rim, trying to soothe any discomfort that might be there.

“I almost can’t believe all we did tonight” he says in a low tone, his voice is evidently sleep weary.

“Well, now you have another unbelievable story to tell your friends” you joke.

“I wonder what punishment that would earn me”.

“I’m afraid next time I won’t be so nice!”

[nalpurey]

today is scara day so here’s the x reader version

reader is mostly gn but gets called ma’am once. scara is afab cuz trans scara>>>

dom!reader, sub!scaramouche/sub!wanderer mentions of sa, brief hurt/comfort, fluffy playful smut, the slightest hint of somnophilia if you squint, not proofread

As the flames danced, your shadows cast wide on the ground. You yawned, feeling settled in the familiarity of the campsite. Your traveling companion was always full of surprises, and tonight was no exception. He had requested a sleeping bag in your shared tent, much to your disbelief. “What? Just because I don’t need to doesn’t mean I can’t,” he had said, grinning mischievously. You had rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile at his antics.

The two of you had lit a bonfire and were sitting close to one another, quietly and secretly enjoying the warmth and company of each other’s presence.

You subconsciously stared at your companion. You couldn’t help but notice the way the wanderer winced imperceptibly as the weight of his body pressed against an apparently sore muscle. You saw the way he stood up and straightened his back, only to wince once again as he sat back down. It was clear to you that he was in pain, and it was clear that this was something he was used to, but you still frowned.

“Are you hurt?” you carefully asked, slightly tilting your head to the side.

The wanderer shook his head, not even looking at you. “It’s nothing worth mentioning.”

You sighed. We’ve been traveling companions for a while now, and he still isn’t opening up. Sure, he should take his time, but he has no reason to not trust me after what we’ve done to protect each other…

“You know,” you started in a sweet voice, staring at the dancing flames, “it’s pretty normal to get hurt, or even just have a sore back, when you do nothing but wander around and fight monsters all day. Just let me help you.”

He shook his head again, but his voice had softened. “I don’t… need healing.”

You decided not to ask if that was just another way to say no or he actually didn’t need any healing as a puppet.

“But you’re in pain”, you insisted. “You won’t let me heal you, so at least let me cook you some food, give you a massage or something.”

“A massage?” At the wanderer’s seemingly disgusted frown, you only nodded. “But why?”

“It’ll help your muscles relax”, you responded with a smile.

He rolled his eyes. Though he was doing his best to appear indifferent, he was curious about what you would do. He stared at your hands for a couple seconds, wondering if it would have been that bad to have those soft fingers touching his skin.

“Fine then. Do your worst.”

Oh, he just had to make it into a challenge, didn’t he?

You smiled a bit widely this time. You felt like this could help them get closer. You already considered him an ally, but you wanted him to acknowledge that; to see for himself what it meant to have a companion to place his trust in.

He took off his kimono and pulled down the top part of his bodysuit. His pale rosy skin looked soft, and as perfect as a doll’s. Looking a bit more carefully, you couldn’t help but notice five fading rounded scars on the center of his back. The one in the middle was bigger than the others, and those were undoubtedly the marks his puppet strings had left.

“So? Are you gonna do something, or—”

He freezed upon feeling your warm hand trace up his spine.

“Mnnh…”

“Good?”

He bit his lip. “Shut it.”

“You’re tense. Are you always like this, or…” You stopped yourself, your attention being caught by something else. A small symbol on the highest part of his back. It didn’t look like a scar, it was more like a birthmark. You let your curiosity get the better of you and slid your thumb over the mark, softly. “What’s this?” You asked simultaneously.

Tingly waves of electricity shot through his body, running straight to his crotch, and the wanderer couldn’t prevent a soft moan of sheer pleasure from escaping his slightly parted lips.

You stopped your thumb immediately. “Did I hurt you?” You asked with urgency.

“What? No. Of course not. I’m not that fragile.”

Encouraged, you pressed a bit harder on the spot. Your thumb drew slow circles along the mark, until…

“Ahn… please…”

You made a surprised sound, your eyes widening.

The red-faced wanderer hastened to clarify, “That… slipped out.”

But you had already stopped. “Please what, though? Are you sure this isn’t an uncomfortable place for you to—”

“Shut up, it wasn’t a please stop.”

“Then what was it?”

“It was nothing.”

You only let out a chuckle. You really wanted to be friends (or maybe even more) with him, but right now you couldn’t resist teasing him. “Maybe you find this arousing,” you suggested with a shrug. “This one is probably a sweet spot of yours, am I right?” The wanderer parted his lips to speak, but your thumb found itself on the birthmark again and he had to close them shut to suppress the noise he felt bubbling up his throat. “It’s really pretty, though. It’s a mitsudomoe, right? Very pretty…”

The wanderer could barely focus on your praise, completely absorbed by the feeling of you tracing circles around such a sensitive part of his body.

Until you realized this could probably not help his sore back. Much to the wanderer’s disappointment, you went back to massaging his back, and yes— that helped a lot, but it just didn’t feel as good.

It was pretty relaxing, though. Your touch was delicate, careful. It was completely new to him.

Maybe being in your company wasn’t that bad.

: : : :

He looked so… serene in his sleep. He looked like nothing in the world could ever disturb his slumber. Why wasn’t he always like this? You could only wonder why he didn’t sleep more often, since it made him so calm and peaceful. Maybe if he had slept like this every night he wouldn’t have been so short tempered.

Most of his clothes were lying forgotten in an angle of their tent, neatly folded.

You didn’t even realize you were staring at him, his tiny, immobile sleeping figure, his pink synthetical lips that were just barely pressing against each other, his relaxed brows, his smooth and perfect skin… yes, nothing could ever disturb his slumber…

“Mmgh… hah…” The puppet’s eyebrows started to furrow, and his body began to tremble ever so slightly. You let out a sigh. Oh, you should have expected him to have nightmares. The wanderer was muttering something incomprehensible, so you got a bit closer, trying to make out what he was saying.

“D-don’t…”

Oh, here it comes. What will it be?

You touched his shoulder, trying to wake him from his presumed nightmare.

Will it be… “don’t hurt me”? “Don’t betray me”? “Don’t abandon me”? “Don’t—”

“Don’t stop…”

Your eyes widened. If only you looked down a bit lower, a quick glance at the bottom of his tight bodysuit would have been enough to tell just how soaked wet he was.

In fact, at some point, during your attempts at waking him up, you somehow noticed the dark spot of wetness between his legs.

A subtle smirk creeped onto your face.

He looked so irresistible, and you couldn’t stop staring. You even forgot you were trying to wake him up.

The wanderer’s squirming and tossing around only increased in frequency, finally awaking him.

He blinked once. Twice.

“Were you having a dream?” You enquired innocently.

“Not your business…” he replied, looking away so that you couldn’t see his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “How could you tell…?” He quickly added as soon as he realized he could have said or done something in his sleep.

“Call it intuition or whatever.” You shrugged. “It’s not hard to tell if someone’s dreaming if they keep making noise. Was it a bad dream? Or was it about what we discussed earlier?”

He shuddered, rolling onto his side. “Not. Your. Business.”

“I’m assuming it was?” You challenged.

“I said it’s not your business.” The wanderer responded.

“How about you tell me—” He cut you off.

“How about you go to sleep and leave me alone?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his defensive aggressivity. “Fine, fine. Goodnight Kuni.”

He didn’t say anything in response.

You ignored him back and wrapped a warm blanket around yourself, facing the other way. Not even a minute had passed when the wanderer softly called out to you.

“What is it?”

“Can we… share that?” He was pointing at the blanket.

“Are you sure? You don’t look like you’re cold.”

“Shut up.”

You were right, actually. You always were. He was feeling as hot as he didn’t recall ever feeling, but for some reason he wanted you to be close to him, and sharing a blanket was the only way he considered. There was no way he would explicitly ask you to come closer.

You sat up, scooted closer and pulled the blanket onto him. “Sleep well.” No response again.

You lied back down, on your side, facing away from him.

The wanderer was glad you couldn’t see him squeezing his legs together and rubbing his thighs against each other, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable, hot wetness that was only growing and growing between his folds. As it grew, he noticed he was starting to breathe, loudly— he just couldn’t help it. This feeling was too much, he wanted it gone. He didn’t even need to breathe, why did it feel so necessary yet so difficult right now?

He pressed his forehead against the nape of your neck, making you chuckle quietly. Feeling your warmth against himself was somehow relieving, but it also made his body shake with desire and want.

He muffled a groan of discomfort by covering his mouth with his hand.

“Fuck… [Name]—”

“I’m still awake, you know. Do you need something?” You sleepily muttered.

“Ugh…”

“Won’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” You insisted softly. “I can help you.”

The wanderer wanted it. So badly— but he still had his pride. He shook his head, even though you were facing the other side and couldn’t see him.

You took his silence as a no, anyway. “… Alright. Goodnight again.”

“… ‘Night”, he replied this time, in a small voice. He was determined to let the overwhelming feeling go away on his own…

But a few minutes later, he couldn’t care less. He tapped your shoulder lightly, swallowed his pride and breathed out a whispery “… Help?”

You sat up again, your eyes shining, as if you’d been waiting for that moment. You raised an eyebrow, looking at him and waiting for him to say something more.

To which the wanderer furrowed his brows and muttered something that sounded like “come on”.

“What do you want?” You asked innocently, raising a brow.

“Stop talking and do something already!” He yelled impatiently, forcefully grabbing one of your wrists and directing your hand to his abdomen, not daring to push it lower— maybe hoping you would do that yourself. You smiled, running your fingers up to his chest instead. At your caress, his body relaxed against the thin mattress.

“Lower”, he demanded, impatiently.

But you liked his chest too much to just leave it alone already. You put both of your hands to use; while one massaged his chest through his bodysuit, the other traced its way to his lower stomach, then even lower, then some more, until it was resting on his clothed sex.

As soon as he felt your touch, the wanderer inhaled sharply, his body tensing up. The hand that was caressing his upper body found a nipple and focused its attention on it, earning delicious moans from him and helping him loosen up some more. His eyes were glued to her as soon as she started moving her hand. You really were handling him with care. The combination of your touch and the embarrassment of the situation, of how you looked so serious and focused on him, was really getting to him.

The more you rubbed his clit through the fabric, the more he felt the urge to strip off and expose himself for you. He struggled to remove his bodysuit, and you lent him a hand as soon as you noticed. Once free of his clothing, he laid back down, putting himself on display. You licked your lips.

He was completely flushed red from his face to his chest, his weakened arms resting above his head, his hardened nipples demanding more attention, his parting legs tempting you, his blue eyes silently begging you to touch him. So you did, and he whimpered imperceptibly when your hand made direct contact with his clit for the first time. Not feeling any friction, but only a somehow unsatisfying contact, he moved his hips closer to you, but much to his displeasure you withdrew your finger. He let out a soft cry. He was feeling so good, why did it have to stop already?

“Are you playing with me?” He whined, trying to sound intimidating. “If you’re only doing this to annoy me, might as well…”

He trailed off, observing you. You were giving your thumb a few licks, carefully wetting it before placing it on his engorged clit and moving in slow circles, as two fingers of your other hand held up the hood. To which the wanderer could only shut his eyes, throw his head back and let out a long “oohh…”, pleasantly surprised at just how good it felt.

He wasn’t used to this.

Your pointer finger slid down, passed his urethra and pressed against the slit. Your thumb was still working his clit, circling it at a steady pace. Feeling that you weren’t speeding up, the wanderer complained in a breathy voice. “That’s… too slow.”

You gradually picked up the pace, lubing your finger with his juices to help it slide inside his hole. You looked at him. His eyes were tightly shut and his closed fists were grasping the blanket they were sharing earlier. You were being careful with your movements, afraid to hurt him. “Hey, Kuni. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”, you asked, slightly tilting your head to the side.

“Not of… my own will”, he responded through clenched teeth.

Oh.

That wasn’t completely unexpected.

You removed your clean hand from his body to caress his cheeks.

“I’m… sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s… nothing, really.” He gave a nod of his head to signal you to keep going from where you had stopped.

You experimentally moved your finger, but he had gotten tighter. Thinking back about what happened had apparently made him tense up again. “I, uh… I don’t want to hurt you”, you stated. He looked away. He knew it would hurt if you pushed inside him right now.

Sensing his anxiety, you straddled him and softly placed a kiss on his cheek. Your right hand lightly grazed the sensitive birthmark on his higher back, as you continued leaving kisses on his face. The wanderer made a little smile, and let out soft noises and hums of pleasure, while you showered him with affection by pecking his forehead, cheeks, and even the tip of his nose.

“My— my lips too.”

“Alright.”

Complying with his request, you kissed him on the lips. His lips parted, letting her tongue in as soon as he felt it prodding his mouth. You adjusted your position so that your knee was now in between his legs, and he started to roll his hips against it immediately, moaning into your mouth. The friction felt so good on his clit, and now he just wanted more, more, more.

When your lips parted, you kissed his neck, softly nibbling and sucking on it, relishing in the way he tilted his head back to expose his body even further, curving himself to get you to do more, every single cell of him screaming “take me, and do whatever you want to me”. And desiring nothing more than that.

You cupped his chest with both hands and gently fondled his porcelain skin. The wanderer was breathing heavily, completely lost in the feeling of the soft skin of his neck being marked by your mouth and his sensitive nipples being stimulated this delicately. His folds started to lubricate again as he rubbed himself against your leg, hips bucking furiously. His hands feebly grasped your silky hair, trying to push you further onto his body. He guided you where he wanted your attention, and you found yourself licking and suckling on a nipple. His other breast, small enough to fit in your palm, savored your caresses. He could feel something hot churn into his lower stomach. The feeling was slowly taking over his entire body, it was like a drug, and now he needed more.

“[Name]… it feels good, ahh…”

You smiled against his skin. You were making progress.

“[Name]. I think I’m ready.”

“Mhm?”

“Yes. You… won’t need to go easy on me.”

“Well, I’m still going to make this as comfortable as I can.”

He smiled imperceptibly, nothing but pure love in his eyes. He gave a slight nod of his head to encourage you. “Come inside… [Name].”

Your finger found itself back where it was earlier, circling the hole before slowly sliding in. Your body was moving on its own, as if it was on autopilot.

“N-ngh…”

You gradually pushed your finger deeper, observing his face to make sure it wasn’t too overwhelming for him. “Is this okay?”

The wanderer nodded frantically. This felt way better than he had imagined. “More… more…” he managed to squeeze out, his voice sounding broken and hoarse. “Go deeper…” He was sweating, so much so that his skin looked a bit shiny from the moisture.

“You’ve got to call me ma’am for that”, you said.

“In your dreams. I’m not calling you that,” he mumbled.

You chuckled. “I wasn’t serious, dummy.” And as proof, your finger went deeper. The wanderer instantly forgot you had been teasing him.

“Oohh… nnh… just like that…”

Encouraged, you kept rubbing his inner walls with care, searching for that one spot that would have your Kuni crying out in pleasure.

The wanderer was lost in a trance-like state. His ocean eyes were unfocused and teary, and a bit of drool could be spotted at the corner of his mouth.

When your skilled lips made contact with his clit, pressing a loving kiss on it, Kuni’s eyes went wide and he whimpered slightly in surprise. He lost his composure once again when you began to give it the softest kitten licks, sloppily throwing his leg over your shoulder, making it easier to buck his pussy right into your mouth as you licked at his hardened clit.

“Haah… ma’am, feels so good…”

You could feel blood rushing to your cheeks. And your crotch.

You was feeling like his pleasure was the only purpose of your life. You lapped up all the delicious juices that came out of him, your gentle licks turning into messy and frantic sucks.

And the wanderer, oh, he was long gone. Weakly holding your free hand, occasionally squeezing it when he felt like the pleasure was too much for his body to handle, he’d never felt as good as he was feeling now. His head thrown back in heavenly bliss, resting on the blanket he had used to lie next to you and get this in exchange— oh, it’d been so worth it, he kept thinking. He would have done it again and again if it meant feeling the same pleasure he was feeling now.

You were so gentle with him. Did he even deserve your gentleness?

“Kuni? Are you feeling alright?”

Warm juices trickled down your chin as you lifted your head from his crotch to make sure he was okay. Placing a hand on the underside of his thigh, you waited for his nod to start eating him out again.

“I’m feeling... a little more than alright.”

[kimberleyjean]

The Ineffable Detective Agency Presents: What Happened in Before the Beginning?

Hello Good Omens clue hunters and detectives! I’m super excited to share what we’ve discovered in Before the Beginning. Read on if you want to see what no one else has spotted yet!

To put a long story short, something is “up” about Good Omens - Season 2 in particular. While the eagle-eyed have documented a number of odd things in Season 2 already (summarised here), I’ve never seen anyone call into question what was presented during the Before the Beginning scene. Let’s take a closer look shall we?

Remember this scroll to start the nebula? Well, guess what - it changes!

Here’s the first scroll we see on screen, I’m going to call this the “new” scroll. Note the straight edges and completely pristine look, like brand new paper:

Then suddenly, here’s what it looks like as they start up the nebula:

Whoa, that’s looking pretty old and ragged! It’s got rips, a bit of discolouration, several wavy bends running through it. That’s a significantly more worn scroll than we were just shown. Let’s show that in close up just to be sure:

Yup, that’s certainly not meant to be the same scroll!

During this scene, the old scroll is seen again during the close up of Aziraphale holding it. However, once Crowley instructs him to put it down, it’s the new scroll again. (And then at this point it disappears into hammerspace like in a cartoon, or drifts off into space, never to be seen again).

So... there's TWO scrolls?

Well, yes, but also, no. If you're wondering, “Are they both real scrolls? Are you telling me they had two on set?” the short answer is no, this was done with VFX. To explain why we know this, I’m going to hand over to our resident Art Director, @noneorother:

Hi all, @noneorother here. Sure. So it's mostly to do with the shadow inside the scroll curls and under the right hand side curl. You can see when it's the real scroll that the shadows are all orange or brown, because of sub-surface scattering:

It happens when light partially passes through a thin porous object like skin or paper. So when the scroll is new, it's real. Where they've added "scroll is old now" VFX on top of the shots, it's very well tracked, but there's no more sub-surface scattering because it's VFX, not filmed. So the shadows are now base-black inside the curl and to the right hand side of the image. This is the VFX scroll here:

They already perfectly tracked the astronomy animation into the center of the scroll, so they had all that tracking info just sitting around. It wouldn't have been very expensive to add the "old scroll" the way they did it (the cheap and dirty way).

Thanks @noneorother! So there we have it folks, the Good Omens team have intentionally designed some shots with the old-looking VFX scroll and some without. They had the assets created for the old scroll and the tracking to place it correctly, so how could they possibly make the “mistake” of adding it sometimes but not others? This wasn’t a budget thing. If it were budget related, they wouldn’t have created the old scroll VFX in the first place.

Personally, I think this discontinuity was to tell us, the dedicated rewatchers, that what we initially saw in S2 was not the whole story. There is something else at play during S2. Something that, depending on what we find, may make S3 even more enjoyable.

So, why do this? Is this scene being conveyed from different perspectives? Are we viewing different characters’ memories of the same event? If so, why would that be important? Is someone tampering with past events? Did “Before the Beginning” happen multiple times and we’ve seen a spliced together version? What do you think?

One More Question...

The other question worth asking here (which Aziraphale helpfully asks for us) is “which way up” does the scroll go? Look closely at the central rings.

Is it the top version (small rings to the right)?

Or the lower version (small rings to the left)?

... and what happens if you create a nebula upside down, I wonder? Here I’m reminded of the Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square lyrics:

The moon that lingered over London Town Poor puzzled moon, he wore a frown How could he know we two were so in love The whole darn world seemed upside down

In a season where something is going "Down in the Up", and the answer to Gabriel’s mystery is achieved by turning the delivery box upside down, this is yet another up-down reversal we can add to the list!

..................................................................................

If you’ve been following our Good Omens posts up until now, you’ll be aware that this is not the only time scenes have been inconsistent or discontinuous. If this is new to you, please check out my summary post on Season 2 discontinuity here. For more of our posts, plus a collection of Clues and metas from all over the fandom, see here.

However, there is still more to come, so watch out for future updates. If you’re not currently puzzling over Good Omens and would like to join in, please do! We’d love to hear what you find - you can use the tag #ineffable mystery.

Special thanks to @noneorother, @embracing-the-ineffable, and to all the other lovely people at @ineffable-detective-agency (@theastrophysicistnextdoor, @ghstptats, @somehow-a-human, @lookingatacupoftea, @dunkthebiscuit @havemyheartaziraphale, @komorezuki, @251-dmr, @maufungi).

[eccentricallygothic]

YOU KNOW PARTY GIRL? The fix you wrote with ari? 😭😭 it was SOO good OML..

I was wondering if you could make a tiny little imagine if that version of ari caught you running away to get out of punishment 🤭🤭

First of all, thank you so much for reading and enjoying Party Girl, I appreciate you popping in here to give me your sweet feedback! Now, of course I can do that. Punishment and bratting are my top kinks! I am aware this is rather late but I really hope you still enjoy!

Sorry Brat

Warning(s): Ddlg, power imbalance, Daddy!Ari, Baby!You, m!dom, f!sub, couple tussling, running kink, chase kink, minor spanking, allusions to corporal punishment, manhandling, Ari is a giant, age gap, pet names.

.

"Oh, yes" much to your horror, Ari took your phone out from his other pocket now. "Your phone, how could I forget?" Unlocking the screen showing a picture of you two cuddled up on a camping trip, Ari tapped on your Snapchat app. "I am so proud of you for following all your rules and studying hard yesterday, baby" he said as he tapped through your many stories from last night before swiping to story settings to find him crossed out.  

You tried to speak but no words came out. How could they? When you had just been caught red handed like this? Ari wasn't stupid and the evidence of your delinquency laid right there in his huge palm.

So you did the only thing your mind deemed appropriate in the moment.

Wordlessly spinning towards the first route of escape you could calculate in this moment, it being the space between the large couch -that he was seated on- and the single seater placed beside it in a L shaped fashion, you pushed away the arm he had around your waist before you took off. 

Ari chuckled softly at your unrelenting audacity before he spread his muscular legs as he leaned back against the cushion after placing your phone on the coffee table. He turned his face in the direction you had dashed in, snaking his fingers through his luscious brown locks before he called out to you.  

“Really?” The male pushed the silky hair away from his face. “Let’s see how far you can get this time around, little bunny” yes, this wasn't the first time you had pulled this stunt. It was stupid. Because you already knew it was a futile attempt; a losing game before it had even begun. 

The first time you had done this, Ari had told you that he was inevitable before he had made you cry on his knee. With each spank he has assured you that you could never escape him. 

Not really. 

Ari sighed as he pushed his giant form off the couch and stood up to his full height, which was only a few inches shy of 7’. “Now that you have chosen to go about it like this, you better make sure I never find you, little girl” if not for the hellfire that was sure to be unleashed on your scared little ass upon getting caught, his words would have excited you.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you slowly peeked with one eye to see where he was. The apartment wasn't too big and your roommates' rooms were occupied. So that left you with the kitchen that was opposite of the little hallway where your rooms were and on the other side of the living room. 

As you saw Ari's huge form move about the main room with faux ignorance of your whereabouts, you felt like kicking yourself. You were such an idiot. First you had pissed him off by breaking his rules and then had lied about it, next you had chosen to away from him only to do so in a direction from where you couldn't even move anywhere else.

You facepalmed at your own stupidity before you scrambled forwards when he went to the kitchen just for the fun of it and looked there. That allowed you the time to hurriedly crawled to the couches and hide behind one. Ari had literally seen you run to your room, so staying there just wasn't an option anymore. As a result, you had no choice but come into the heart of the danger; the living room.

“Here, little bunny, come out, come out wherever you are~” Ari loved it when you put up a bratty little fight. That was why he was enjoying this. Because crushing and beating that rebellious resolve out of you -or rather, your ass- when he finally caught you was the best part for him. And Ari always caught you. So this useless little revolt from you made the catharsis of his rage even more satisfying.

It was like hunting game for slaughter. 

You had to press your palm to your mouth to mute your panting when he returned to the living room, a devilish smirk on his face as he walked with a slow and heavy foot, ripped arms held behind his back.

“Maybe she's here…” He ducked under a table and swished away the net drape that covered it. A cruel, deep chuckle left him when he didn't find you there. “Or… maybe here!” You jumped from the force he used to push the coats hanging on the livingroom coat hanger away. His shoulders shook in silent mirth when he didn't find you there as well.

The more Ari moved around the room, the more you followed suit from behind the couches, watching him with risky peeks every now and then to make sure you were still undetected.

“Ah!” Ari exclaimed when he approached the beginning of the hallway leading to your room. “That must be it!” You felt momentary relief wash over you as you lowered yourself behind the couch from where you were raised on your haunches. Placing a hand over your erratic heart, you sighed as quietly as you could manage and wiped your forehead with the back of your hand.

Taking a quick glance in the direction of the kitchen, you willed your tired mind to work. Ari had already checked it. So perhaps you could hide in there. And just maybe, by some miracle, the next time you’d see Ari some of his anger would have subsided. 

Yes, it couldn't be denied due to ample proof that doing stuff like this only sunk you into more trouble, but the almighty what if was a comfort in times of your self-inflicted anxieties.

Eyeing the kitchen, you raised yourself back up and placed your palm against the back of the couch to peek behind him one last time before you'd make your move. That was it. That was how you were going to make it out of this. Yes. It was a decent plan if you said so yourself.

But then…

“Hi” Ari's grin was nothing short of pure evil and your eyes widened as you gasped loudly when you finally looked only to come face to face with your pursuer. His huge form was hunched over the couch, causing him to appear as a cunning hawk, and you realized just now that he had become quiet– too quiet a short while ago. Your body went flying backwards in a defensive shock, everything went in slow motion, you spun around once more as a last ditch effort but alas! 

There was only so much luck a little girl could have.

“Oh, no!” Your smaller legs kicked furiously in the air as Ari scooped you up from behind by your underarms and effortlessly brought you to himself over the couch. Everything clicked back into motion in the present moment, breaking your mental state of slow motion. 

“Oh, yes” mock laced his tone as he sat down and threw you over his lap, giving you an initiating spank to get you to buck up.

You had a long day ahead of you.

[nicolesainz]

Your thighs up like my anticipation (MM7)

Mason Mount x f!reader

Author’s note: due to popular demand, the filth shot will have as its protagonist the hot stuff no7 of Manchester United, Mason Mount. This idea came to my mind abruptly given I love seeing pics of footballers screaming.

Summary: Its pure filth there's no plot

Warnings: minors dni, 18+, praise kink, pet names, sub/dom, oral sex, unprotected sex (do not encourage it whatsoever)

"I am disgustingly in love with how you taste" Mason moans along with me as I feel his lips attached to my pussy.

Match days should be exhausting a player usually, not give them more energy. Mason defies the odds in our case.

I refuse to remove my eyes from his feasting. My whole body is shivering as his strong arms hold on to my thighs, needing balance, while he is sucking on every last drop of my wetness. My hands are holding onto the bedpost, so I can find an ounce of self control.

Because my self respect has disappeared.

It's already midnight, the neighbours are sleeping and the only thing echoing in this entire block are my moans from Mason torturing touch. I get more wet as each lick slides my pussy, getting me all excited and worked up. This man knows how to make a woman feel good.

"Thighs up for me baby. I need to have you all to me." I push up my thighs, giving him more room and to my surprise he slides in my clit two fingers, pumping them slowly but painstakingly erotically inside me, causing me to gasp out of breath loss.

"Don't hold back. Let me hear you scream." He demands and I decide to test him a little bit, for which I will be punished afterwards.

"You will have to do better than that." I fearlessly reply and feel a wave of coldness rushing against my pussy, given he removed his fingers and mouth in seconds.

"What did you just say? Do better?" His face comes closer to mine, lips attacking my already bruised neck, sucking more painfully than before. Motherfucker had found my soft spot and kept on sucking until I scratched his back with my fingernails.

"Not enough for me daddy." I saw with a loud moan coming along as Mason furiously inserts his middle finger inside my cunt, pumping it along with the pace of his kisses.

"Say that one more time sweetheart and I promise you, that you will not be able to walk for days." I can feel his cock pushing against my pussy, even under the boxers, becoming needier as time goes by.

"I need more." I repeat myself knowing the consequences to my actions.

I trusted Mason with my life knowing he would never hurt me physically or mentally, hence why I always challenge him.

"Not playing nice missy. Do you know what girls with your behavior are?” He takes ahold of my hand and places it on his hardened cock, above the boxers.

I raise my eyebrow playfully, knowing I have a portion of control on him. As I breathe in more deeply, my breasts pop out, grabbing Mason’s attention in mere seconds.

“Eyes up baby” I sternly say and he lets my hand loose, as I afterwards slide it inside his underwear and start tracing his cock with my fingers. I can feel on the tip the pre cum with just a slight touch.

“Slutting it up I see?” He weakly says, before his cock springs out and I turn our bodies on the opposite, with me being on him. Mason underneath me is my favorite second version of him. The first one is the goal scoring version.

"Only for Mr.Mount's eyes." I whisper seductively in his ear as my fingers play with his hard rock cock, waiting to have a taste of my pussy. Mason's slight groans of desperation excite me. I am so incredibly proud of his performance today so I think he deserves to be treated specially.

"Baby I need you so incredibly much. I can't hold myself. Please let me make you feel good." The way the words fall out his mouth make him very irresistible to me.

I place his cock against the entrance of my cunt and slick it softly before I open my legs a bit further so Mason can slide in more conformably. Once I start feeling the stretches in my pussy a loud breathless moan escapes my lips, weakening every ounce of control I had on him. He fits so perfectly it feels like a crime.

I hadn't realised when Mason switched out positions and for once again I was underneath him. My eyes were glued to his abdominal part, where I could get the best view of his Champions League tattoo and simultaneously his V-line from where veins pop out with each thrust.

"If you are to stare at my tattoo so much I might as well get one of your liking." He has suggested that again, although I prefer if he gets ones he likes, given I have no say on his body, except for a few minutes almost everyday.

"All your tattoos are to admire Mase. Just like yourself." I manage to say before Mason shuts me up with a deep stuck thrust followed by a passionate kiss, sucking up all the air I have left.

"Being nice won't make me go all soft on you darling." His fingers trace the lining of my nipples, arousing me to the fullest. My hands are holding against his bum so he deepens himself inside my pussy until I can't breathe.

"Look at you, all weak and needy for my cock, taking it so well as I see." I get dizzy as Mason hits my soft spot, forcing me to grab onto the sheets, almost ripping them off from the pressure.

"You are so fucking beautiful and only mine. What a joy." Mason's lips are all over my neck, trying to not leave any spot of it without a hickie. I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up with his name spelt on my body with purple marks.

"I love you Mason. Oh" I gasp before I feel both Mason and mines arousal coating me. Mason falls next to me, both trying to catch our breaths, hands against each others chest, feeling the beat of our hearts.

"I am sorry if I was a bit rough with you my love. You know I always want to please you."

"Tonight all that mattered was to please you. I am incredibly proud with your performance, like I always am Mase."

"I am so incredibly lucky to have you. I love you too."

[mostlygayrage]

OBSCURA: Trailer Analysis

SPOILERS AHEAD!!

In the trailer/video that goes with Chapter One of OBSCURA (Here. Watch it on your own, sub to Rotten Raccons) is PACKED with details and all sorts of information. Let's start with the first thing we see when the video starts.

Cirrus:

This is a snippet of Cirrus' CG in game with some things added. The text in the top left is what we're interested in. "18. presbyter//ecclesia lunaris" What does the number mean? Well if we take it in terms of Major Arcana for Tarot cards. the moon in number 18.(XVIII) Fitting for the lunar priest, but the deeper meaning also fits. Usually meaning hidden danger or enemies, deception to darker forces at play. Then we have the Latin. If we take the dashes and an indication of a break, then the translation is roughly "Preist// height of the moon" But if we take it as one sentence it translates to "Priest of the Lunar Church" Keir:

Again, staring with the number. 20 (XX) is Judgement. I find this fascinating. With obvious associations to justice, scales, balance etc it;s an interesting connection that I wouldn't have originally thought of to Keir but it fits well. The card itself means reflection, reckoning and awakening. Usually taking a look at oneself to see where an imbalance lies so you can fix it and move forwards while reversed can mean a lack of self-awareness, doubt and self-loathing. (yikes) The latin here is interesting too. Instead of having the dashes like everyone else, he had the latin next to the number and then a separate, less visible one at the bottom center of the screen. "Cavilator Fur" translates to "Scornful thief" and the dimmer, less noticeable word is "Cultelluss" or "knife" and it's pointing to where his dagger in on his belt.

Oleander:

The Number 11 (XI) is Justice. Meaning cause and effect, clarity and truth and the reverse meaning opposite. Oleander is a character who knows the effects of his actions. They are measures and precise. He is aware of the cause and effect. And in his neutral and good endings we see him bring his own form of 'justice' or balance. When Lord Valentine tried to have him killed, he simply returned the favor personally, and succeded. "Nerii//periculosum scurra" when translated as a sentence means "A dangerous clown". This obviously references the way Vesper calls him a clown when they first meet and telling us directly that he is dangerous. Francesco:

The Wheel of Fortune is what is assigned to Francesco, meaning change, cycles and inevitable fate, greater forces as play that are pushing towards and ultimate and unavoidable end. This theme goes along with theming that he is running out of time. THere is a reason for him coming to the underground, for rushing Vesper and the tailor so he can experience as much as he can. There is something pushing him forwards.

"Francisium//innocentes nobiles" At a first glance it looks like a latin version of his name, and "innocent nobiles." The second part is correct but the whole phrase means "The innocent nobles of France" which is FACINATING to say the least. The connection to France is interesting to me and brings my mind to the French revolution. Another detail I think is interesting is that his secondary outfit we see him in, the jewelry that is around his neck is right where a beheading would happen and once I saw it I couldn't unsee it.

Thats the first portion. Later in the video we get some images that flash across the screen with more latin and numbers. The numbers correspond with the numbers we were given previously. Again, in the order of how they appear in the video: Cirrus: Snake Skeleton

Latin first. "Obsequium// ducit as caelum" means "compliance leads to heaven" This connects to his entire theme. To get the best end with Cirrus, you don't question him. You don't question his motives or hesitate, you just comply. The imagery of a snake skeleton is interesting too. The obvious imagery and symbolism with snakes, deceit, lies, danger. But also connections to the story of Adam and Eve. The snake that tempts Eve, causing her fall from grace.

Keir: Scales

The Latin here is obscured a bit but it says "Fatum// vestrum vel extaneus" meaning "Your fate is at stake". This one leaves me wondering quite a bit. It says 'your' as if it's talking to the player, to us. To Vesper. This could tie into how Vesper is roped into Mouse Hole, how they are forced to get a noose around their neck like the rest of those living in Mouse Hole. They have to perform well in the heist that happens otherwise they risk death that comes a lot sooner than would be caused by fractum anima. They also risk the lives of Keir and those in Mouse Hole.

The imagery here is super interesting too. Scales are usually associated with justice which happens to be Oleander's tarot card. Scales, are obviously associated with balance, with equilibrium, and fair deals. While we mostly see one side of the scale it seems to be balanced. And in combination with the Latin, I think it's referring to the delicate balance that is Keir's life. A balance of his line of work being risky but lucrative, but if it's too much of a risk, he not only risks his life but all the others in Mouse Hole.

Oleander: Human Skull

"Pantiantur// sicut habes" roughly translates to "Let them suffer as you have" which, WOW. OKAY. Again, Oleander delivers his own form of justice to Lord Valentine by delivering the same thing Valentine tried to do to Oleander, but more personal. Let them suffer as you have. It brings to mind the "eye for an eye" metaphor. An eye for an eye and the world goes blind. But Justice is blind is she not? The skull imagery is interesting as well. This is all painting Oleander as a very dangerous man. Charming and witty, with a flair for the dramatic, yes, but dangerous all the same. A man who can kill. In the neutral ending he says, "For now you are safe with me. If you want to stay like that, you need to follow my lead." If he doesn't have the same attachment to you as he does in the good ending, you are an asset to him and he doesn't spare you the same kindness.

Francesco: Hour Glass

"Tempus//decurrit" means "time is running out". His is the shortest and simplest of the secondary ones. He is running out of time. He rushes you at the tailor to get an outfit made because he can't afford to wait. He wants to get as much as he can, done in the time he has left. No time to waste. The hourglass is the same message. Time is running out. It makes me wonder what is causing his time to run out. Here's the thing, Vesper's time is also running out with Fractum Anima, and interesting connection and it would be interesting if he also had it or something similar but I don't think that's the case with the other things we have seen. With the other things, the "innocent nobles of France" bit and the Wheel of Fortune, It feels like it's alluding to an execution to something similar. But that's purely speculation. That's it! That's what I have! (Thanks to Atlas on discord for great resources and helping me connect the dots with the numbers and tarot!!)

[wholoveseggs]

I am begging you can you please make a Damon and Elijah fic? I didn't know this ship even existed but I'm so fuckin invested in it. You can make up the story line and everything, the only thing I ask is that Elijah is the dominant one and that Elena doesn't support their relationship but they simply don't care what she thinks anymore?

Thank you thank you thank you🫶🫶🫶

Respect

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Elijah puts Damon in his place, and demands he show him a little more than respect.

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon! I was giggling like crazy writing this (its my fav Elijah ship) Unfortunately I didn't include Elena, but we all know she would be jealous as fuck... (of who? well... that's up to you...) ♡♡

2.9k words - Warnings: smut, this is just a alternate version of the iconic pencil scene, Elijah in his middle part menace era, dom!elijah, sub!damon, blowjobs, face-fucking, Damon being an Elijah simp...

At first, Damon just saw Elijah as the enemy, simple, straightforward, an asshole that just had to go.

He was a threat and Damon was an expert on handling threats, especially when it came to the safety of those he cared about. He wasn't afraid to throw punches, not afraid to pull out the stops and go all out.

But then things changed.

Things changed and he realized that maybe he and Elijah had more in common than he thought, the man was cunning and calculating, he could be dangerous when he needed to be, and Damon would be lying if he said that it didn't scare the hell out of him.

Elijah was a mystery that he wanted to solve, he wanted to figure out just how deep his intelligence went, how far his knowledge spanned. He was curious about him, he wanted to learn every little detail and find out what made him tick.

Damon knew what he was to woman, he would wield his good looks like a weapon, his charm was another weapon, his wit was one too.

But now he truly understood what it was like to be on the receiving end of such charisma, it was addicting, and he was hooked.

Elijah's power and dominance was something that drew him in and held him there. He wanted nothing more than to submit to him, to surrender and let him do as he pleased. It was a foreign feeling, one he wasn't exactly comfortable with… but he couldn't resist him.

The way Elijah was able to command his attention and keep it was intoxicating, his presence alone demanded respect, but when he opened his mouth, the words that came out were pure elegance, and Damon found himself captivated by his smooth tone, his articulation was flawless.

He was a true gentleman.

He was everything Damon was not.

So what did Damon do? He took all these new and uncomfortable feelings and did what he always did. Antagonize.

He would try his best to push Elijah's buttons, hoping for a reaction, an emotion, anything to give him a clue on what was going through his mind. But to his dismay, the man would not budge, and it just left Damon wanting more.

He knew he needed to get his attention, and Damon still was determined to protect Elena at all costs, so he decided to take it further, the more dangerous the stunt, the better.

Damon sauntered into the Lockwood mansion, his signature smirk firmly in place. Today was a simple fact finding mission. All he wanted to do was suss out Elijah's weaknesses, find out if he could be manipulated, maybe find a way to control him.

That's all. He told himself, making his way deeper into the house, looking for the original.

It wasn't long until he spotted the older vampire, who was chatting away with Carol. He watched him, noticing how his body language screamed regal and refined.

Damon didn't want to admit it, but he was nervous, this was the first time they were officially meeting. The last time Elijah ripped out the hearts of two vampires right in front of him and the time before that Damon drove a coat hanger through Elijah's heart. Not the best first impression.

He could feel his heart beat quicken, and he knew he needed to calm down, otherwise the vampire would notice. So he took a deep breath and plastered his smirk back on, striding confidently toward the pair.

"Damon," Carol gave him a welcoming smile, happy to see him. "What a surprise," she greeted, reaching forward and shaking his hand.

"Carol," he returned, nodding at her.

"Elijah, I want you to meet Damon Salvatore. His family is one of Mystic Falls' founding families." Carol introduced.

"Mmm," Damon looked at Elijah, whose expression was impassive, his eyes scanning him briefly. "Such a pleasure to meet you."

"No. Pleasure's mine," Elijah replied, taking Damon's hand and squeezing tightly, just a tad bit too tight, causing the younger vampire to wince slightly.

"Excuse me," Carol interjected. "I should probably attend to my other guests," she smiled, giving them both a nod before leaving the pair alone.

Damon could feel Elijah's eyes almost burning holes into him, the older vampire seemed to be sizing him up, as if trying to decide whether or not he was worth his time.

"So," Damon drawled, his smirk still present, he motioned towards a private study off to the side, the door slightly ajar. "Shall we?" he suggested, his tone dripping with honey.

Elijah followed behind him, watching as he made his way inside. This young vampire was going to be quite the handful, but that was okay. He had dealt with others far worse.

Once they were both in the room, Elijah closed the door, grazing his fingertips along the leather sofa, not even bothering to look Damons way.

"What can I do for you, Damon?" he inquired, his voice low, but smooth and controlled.

"I was hoping we could have a word," Damon replied, his tone slightly less confident than before, the way Elijah spoke and held himself was unnerving.

"Where's Elena?" Elijah questioned, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

Damon didn't like the way Elijah asked after her, like he had some sort of claim over her, and he didn't like the way he said her name either.

"Safe with Stefan. They're laying low, you know, bit of a werewolf problem," Damon explained, his tone nonchalant.

"Oh, yeah, I heard about that," Elijah responded, finally looking at Damon, his expression stoic, almost unreadable.

"I'm sure you did since it was your witch that saved the day." Damon couldn't hide the bite in his tone, he didn't like the way Elijah seemed all knowing, as if he was privy to everything that went on in Mystic Falls.

Elijah finally looked at him, and it sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes were cold and calculating, and it made him uneasy and a little aroused.

"You are welcome," he replied with a smug grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Damon leaned against the nearby desk, trying his best to stay casual. "Which adds to my confusion on exactly why you're here?" he questioned, hoping his voice didn't betray the nerves he was currently feeling.

Elijah was bored by this conversation, the infamous Salvatore was not worth his time. "Why don't you just stay focused on keeping Elena safe and leave the rest to me." He replied, looking away from Damon and smiling softly, he then turned and headed for the door.

But Damon wasn't going to let him get away so easily, he was determined to get his attention, so he sped to the door, blocking Elijah's way.

"Not good enough," Damon stated, his voice firm.

The look on Elijah's face could of melted steel, it was cold, his eyes were hard and his jaw clenched tightly.

Before Damon could blink, Elijah's hand was around his throat, lifting him off the ground and slamming him into the wall, his grip was like a vice. Damon couldn't breathe, he struggled against the original, clawing at his hand, gasping for air.

He grabbed Elijah's throat, trying to choke him in return, but it was no use. He was strong, and the fact that the older vampire could effortlessly hold him there, only turned him on even more.

Elijah peeled Damon's hand off his throat, crushing the bones in his fingers, and causing the younger vampire to cry out in pain. Damon was shocked at how strong Elijah really was, how easily he was able to handle him.

"You young vampires, so arrogant." He growled, pushing Damon's hand away with ease. "How dare you come in here and challenge me?'' His voice was full of venom, his tone menacing.

"You can't kill me, man. It's not part of the deal." Damon managed to wheeze out, his words slightly slurred from the lack of oxygen.

Elijah was amused by his statement, his face contorting into a gentle smile, his eyes dancing with mirth. "Silence," he whispered, his tone dangerously low.

Damon's mouth snapped shut, and his heart was pounding in his chest. He was in a compromising position, and he wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline, or the fact that he was literally at the mercy of an Original, but his body was buzzing with anticipation.

Elijah could hear Damon's heartbeat racing, the blood pumping through his veins. He knew what the young vampire was feeling, the fear, the arousal.

Elijah grabbed a pencil and jammed it into Damon's neck. He needed to teach this vampire a lesson. He was a mere child compared to him, and it was time he learned his place.

Damon cried out in agony, the pencil lodged deep in his neck. He was utterly helpless, and Elijah could tell.

He dropped Damon, letting him pull the pencil out of his neck and stumble forwards, he clutched at his throat, groaning in pain.

Elijah smiled slightly, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping the blood off his hands, "I'm an Original. Show a little respect," he ordered.

Damon could feel his pants getting tighter, the bulge in his jeans growing with every passing second. Elijah's dominance was a major turn on, and he couldn't stop the arousal coursing through his body.

Elijah handed him the handkerchief, their fingers brushing, causing Damon to shiver. He took the cloth, wiping away the excess blood.

Damon wanted to be angry, he should be furious, but instead he was excited. His blood was pumping, his adrenaline was high, and he couldn't hide the fact that Elijah made him feel things he never thought possible.

When their eyes met, Elijah knew that he was in for a fun time. He could see the desire swimming in those bright blue eyes. He smirked and stepped closer, invading his personal space, causing the younger vampire to swallow nervously.

"On your knees," Elijah commanded, his tone deep and seductive.

Damon felt a jolt of pleasure go straight to his dick, his mind was screaming for him to leave, but his body was already sinking down to the floor.

Once on his knees, he looked up at Elijah, his heart hammering in his chest, his breath coming out in shallow pants.

"You know what to do." Elijah encouraged, his eyes full of lust.

Damon hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he reached up and began undoing the belt and button on Elijah's dress pants. He was a bit nervous, not because he had never been with a man before, he had, plenty of times, but this was an original, and he wasn't exactly sure how far he was willing to go.

"Do you require a written invitation?" Elijah questioned with a teasing grin.

Damon frowned and swallowed thickly, pulling the zipper down slowly, and carefully removing Elijah's cock from his pants. It was so hard, so thick, and Damon couldn't deny that he was intimidated by its size.

Elijah grunted slightly, looking down at Damon with hooded eyes, his gaze filled with dark lust. He didn't usually have his enemies submit in this way, only when he was in a charitable mood, but Damon was an exception.

Elijah ran his fingers through Damon's dark hair, tugging gently at the strands, causing the younger vampire to wince, it wasn't rough enough to hurt, but it was enough to pull a reaction.

Damon leaned in closer, his hot breath ghosting across the sensitive skin. Elijah smelled like pine and leather and a hint of cologne, he was pure man, and it made his head spin.

So Damon, using all his experience from previous encounters, ran his tongue over the tip, earning a small groan of approval.

Encouraged by Elijah's moan, he started to slide his mouth along his shaft. Giving him gentle licks and wet kisses, tasting the bitter flavor of the pre cum seeping out.

The pace was slow at first, Damon running his tongue down to the base and back up to the tip, swirling his tongue around the head of the shaft, eliciting more beautiful sounds from Elijah.

Elijah dug his fingernails into Damon's scalp, gripping his head, and guiding him down further, moaning softly as he hit the back of his throat.

Damon gagged a little, causing Elijah to chuckle. "Hmph, there we go," he grunted, looking down at Damon's face and meeting his heated gaze.

He then forced his cock deep into his mouth, holding his head in place and listening to him gag, spit dripping out and down his chin.

"Ah...good boy, that's better," Elijah cooed, easing his grip slightly and allowing Damon to adjust. "Just like that." He praised.

Damon closed his eyes and relaxed his throat, letting Elijah use him the way he wanted, the way he desired.

As soon as the noises stopped, Elijah removed his dick, giving Damon the opportunity to breathe. Damon gasped for air, coughing, his throat was raw, he hadn't let someone treat him in this way for decades, he was completely and totally dominated.

But it was so hot, so arousing, and he loved every minute of it. His own erection pressing painfully against the seam of his pants, he wanted more.

He swallowed heavily, looking up at Elijah who was stroking himself, enjoying the sight before him.

"Mmm, very good, such a pretty face, a perfect mouth for my cock," Elijah growled. "Now suck," he ordered.

Damon surged forward, his mouth wrapping around his shaft once more, but this time he pushed himself all the way to the base, swallowing around him, letting him feel the tight squeeze of his throat.

Elijah thrust his hips, and Damon could tell he was close to the edge, he wanted to taste his cum, wanted to feel the power and authority of him.

"Fuck, yes," Elijah muttered, holding Damon's head and slamming his hips into his mouth. "Just a little bit more," he groaned, his words broken by ragged moans.

Damon's jaw was aching, his entire body was shaking, and he could barely breathe, but the pressure building between his legs made the pain all worth it.

Elijah grunted, slamming his hips forward one final time, spilling his load down Damon's throat. The vampire eagerly swallowed down the warm thick fluid, breathing deeply, and trying to regain his composure.

When the spasms subsided, he pulled out, and Damon collapsed, his body trembling, his cock painfully hard, his breath coming out in sharp gasps.

Elijah smiled down at him, his cock glistening with the young vampires spit. He tucked himself away, straightening his suit and clearing his throat.

"Now, get cleaned up," he commanded, tossing his handkerchief at him.

Damon scrambled to wipe himself off, he didn't even have the decency to ask if Damon needed help getting off. The thought didn't even cross his mind.

Elijah fixed his hair in the mirror, making sure his appearance was perfect, that his part was just right. When he was satisfied with his look, he gave Damon one last glance and left the room without a word.

Damon sat there, stunned and aching. He had never experienced anything like that before, and it left him wanting more. He couldn't believe what had just happened, how easily Elijah had put him in his place, how willingly he had submitted.

He was a vampire, a strong, powerful vampire, and yet he was completely at the mercy of another. And that scared and thrilled him.

He shook his head and stood up, his legs shaking. He quickly composed himself, adjusting his clothes, wiping away the stray tear.

He wondered what Elena would think, or Stefan or even Alaric. Would they understand? He didn't even understand it himself.

He sighed and walked out of the study, heading towards the bar. He needed a drink. A stiff one.

Elijah was leaning against the bar, a glass of scotch in his hand, his expression unreadable. Damon could feel the tension between them, but he ignored it, instead focusing on pouring himself a glass.

"Enjoyed yourself?" Elijah inquired, his voice laced with amusement.

For once Damon was at a loss for words, his mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out. He didn't know how to respond.

"The moment you cease to be of use to me, you're dead, so you should do what I say. Keep Elena safe." Elijah continued, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

Damon somehow found his voice again and his snarky side made an appearance. "Well, thank you for being so gracious," he quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Elijah chuckled, shaking his head, he took a sip of his drink, savoring the taste.

"I like this town, there are so many interesting people," he commented, his eyes locking with Damon's, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Interesting?" Damon repeated, arching his brow.

"Indeed," Elijah replied, his gaze lingering on the younger vampire for a moment longer before he stood and set his glass on the counter.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against Damon's ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin, "it was nice meeting you Damon Salvatore, I'm sure our paths will cross again,"

Damon watched him walk away, his heart racing, his mouth dry. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but he knew one thing, he wanted more.

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[moirindeclermont]

Another Colin analysis

aka this is all I'm talking about now, sorry not sorry. I was talking with my fandom spouse (💕), and we were saying that there is something about Colin that exudes Gentle!Dom vibe.

I already touched on this, because I absolutely love Gentle!Dom Colin, but the piece I want to add is this: if you think Colin cannot possibly be a dom, is because you have a very different idea on what being a dom is.

Thing is, I get that Colin is not a dom in the traditional sense. He has moments of authority but he is not authoritative by nature, he doesn't command, he would never tell Pen "you have to do this because I say so". In that sense, he is not a dom. If your definition of being a dom is this particular thing, I get that Colin doesn't belong in this realm.

Instead, what Colin has is a more subtle version. I always use this metaphor but it's the one more apt for me: Colin is a perfect dancing partner, because he does lead, but doesn't command. When you dance in a couple, most of the time you find either leads who don't lead at all or leads who think leading means making you do whatever they want. The balance is a lead who proposes a step and you accept it - they are so rare to be found and they make the perfect dance partners.

Colin is right into that special league. And for him, it does translate from the dance floor to the bed and more generally into every aspect of his life with Pen. Now, in this season we see this aspect especially in the intimacy scenes, because that is where it shines brighter, but the more Colin settles into married life the more it will come out also in other aspects.

Moreover, Colin is a provider by nature. He enjoys taking care of the people he loves. This also translates into the Dom side. Two doms could do the same thing to their sub, and yet they can be vastly different in the undertones and the energy that they bring to the scene. There is no right or wrong as long as it is sane, consensual and safe, of course, but I'd like to bring a new perspective into the idea of what being a Dom is, ultimately.

Personally, like in dancing, I vastly prefer someone who leads and leaves me with my agency, in contrast with someone who orders me around. Unless insecure or angry, and even in that case, it's a rare occurrence, Colin does not seek to order Pen around. He wants to provide for her, take care of her, lift her burdens, give her all the pleasure in the world, and be there for her, but it's never a command, it's a request. And that makes all the difference in the world.

When a dynamic like that is established, it allows the partners to grow into their power and capabilities, and they become better partners because of it. Over time, this will allow Pen to outgrow her insecurities and truly blossom (we already saw part of this, but think of how much more we can get of that in a later season).. and it allows for a switch in roles.

Over time Pen can become a Dom too. She has everything she needs, but of course, it takes time and confidence to take on that role as well. Colin, with his soft guidance, is giving Pen exactly that. Five, or ten years in the future, they can take the role of Dom according to the other needs in no time, but that can happen only when the relationship is based on partnership.

And it's a beautiful thing to see a dynamic like that portrayed with such grace by Nic and Luke. Not because it's the first time - it's not - that tv shows such dynamics, but because it allows people to understand that assertiveness is vastly different from authoritativeness, and that is a thing way too many people still need to know.

Do you understand why I'll never give up on Polin, I fall in love with them in a new way every day