#so I get my perfect little pig

[leconcombrerit]

Oh my god when that pig plushie gets in the mail I'm gonna carry him with me everywhere in the house and demand that everyone pays tribute to his glory, this thing is the cutest ever, a perfect little pig, I-

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

YALL HOLY SHIT ITS HER. SHE'S IN MY HOUSE MY HANDS MY HEART

[selineram3421]

*deep breath* Ok, someone found a loophole. Requested through messages.

Aftercare Headcanons

Alastor/Angel/Husk X Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ suggestive/implied, implied nudity, fluff, implied biting/scratching/bruising, consent ⚠

So after your...ahem..activities, this is what the boys do.

Alastor🎙

Of course he's going to treat you like a God after something so tiring. Only the best of the best for his significant other.

Everything is taken care of. Don't you dare try to lift a finger.

Can you? I mean *cough cough*

Has the bath prepared with rose petals and candles, water at the perfect temperature. He does join you.

Towels and robes folded on the counter nearby the hygiene products.

His shadows take care of cleaning up the bed and changing the sheets.

Will sometimes apologize about the marks left on your skin. Depends.. He does like some of them.

Sometimes he'll add more

Expect a lot of cuddles and kisses while you are being taken care of in the water.

And some sweet talking.

"Tu as goûté devine ma chéri/e~" (You tasted devine my darling~)

Want a massage? Of course.

Food or drinks? Already taken care of.

Once you're ready to get out of the bath, don't bother on getting up. He'll pick you up and dry you himself.

Once in your towel or robe, he'll carry you back to the now clean bed and make sure you're comfortable.

He'll dress you up too if you asked.

If not then he'll bring you your clothes, kissing you on the forehead once you have them in your hands.

No? Nothing at all?

Now you're tempting him.

"Be careful darling."

Won't do anything unless you want to.

He'll hold you close as you sleep.

Extra

Angel🕸

He'll have everything set up for you to take care of each other on the days he's not exhausted from work. Sometimes its a last minute thing.

Wipes or rags are on the nightstand. Along with some other things like a water bottle and easy snacks.

There's a towel on the bed so you don't have to switch the sheets.

He'll clean you up with those first or will scoop you up to the bathroom. Or maybe you scoop him up?

Gets the bath or shower ready while you make sure to get the face masks and robes/towels out.

Expect kisses and tickles while helping each other clean off.

Aw

Once out of the water, both of you put on your robes/towels and get the face masks.

"Fuck babe, you left marks.", he'll say after checking himself in the mirror. "Can you make more?"

You help him dry off as best as you can, giving him kisses as you go.

He might take the kissing up a notch and turn it into a make out session...

Or more

Then its face masks time!

After that, you both get ready to cuddle up in bed and watch t.v.

Fat Nuggets joins the two of you and makes themselves comfortable under one of the blankets.

Pig in a blanket

Helps you take off your face mask when noticing you getting sleepy.

Will kiss you goodnight and spoon you/or be the little spoon.

Husk🃏

He'll do what he can for you. He won't admit it but he went to Angel for some advice and bought whatever he needed to make sure you were taken care of.

He'll help you clean off before offering the shower.

A little awkward because he has not done something like this in a long time. Will start the water if you asked/or teach you how to work the water.

Is a little shy if you ask him to join you.

"You won't like the wet cat look."

He'll go get drinks and snacks if he doesn't join you. If he does join, then he'll call room service beforehand.

Expect kisses and gentle touches while in the water.

Notices that he did leave some marks.

Cat pupils go =◽^◽= > =⬜^⬜=

Let's you out first because he'll get embarrassed if you see his fur puff up after drying off.

Or you do see it and it makes you smile.

When he gets out, he sees that you've taken care of the bed sheets and opened a bottle.

Accepts the cup you offer him and sits next to you.

Feed each other snacks, maybe share a few more kisses. Might turn into a make out..

"I had a good time."

Falls asleep first while holding you and purrs.

*screams into pillow*

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @naelys-the-aster @willowaudreykeyes @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @lbcreations-blog @+?

MLS Alastor, Angel, Husk

[misserabella]

ask nicely

bodyguard abby x str!pper reader

summary; your night was going good until some asshole tried touching you. abby stepped in to save you and took you to a safe place. what happens when you find yourselves alone in a private room?

cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, sa (groping) coming from a man towards reader, abby kicks him out, tension, reader flirts, reader is in lingerie, abby being a gentlewoman, drinking (reader), lots of teasing, groping (coming from abby so we like it), making out, hair pulling, dom! abby and switch! reader, bratty reader, abby being an asshole, praising, begging, dirty talking, tit and nipple play (r receiving), use of good girl, choking, multiple orgasms implied, lots of teasing…

you were having a pretty good night. the club was full. your makeup looked gorgeous, your dancing routine had never came out better and the money kept flowing in steadily.

but of course something, or better said, someone had to come by and ruin it.

his hands are warm, and big on your hips, his breath smelled like alcohol as he leant on your face, trying to kiss you. “come on, sweetheart, just one little taste…” you were dodging his attempts, trying to move away, but he’s insistent and you’re getting tired of it.

lucky enough, a kind soul comes to your rescue, taking you out of the disgusting man’s grasp. you can’t help but sigh in relief when you see her. her 6ft tall height, her muscular arms dressed in a tight black muscle tee and his big thighs in a just as tight black pants… its making you salivate. her blonde hair is up on a braid, and there’s a scowl on her pretty features as her rough voice cuts the air.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

it makes you shiver. how she handles the man that easily, how she manhandles him and pulls him away from you as if he weighted nothing. your thighs clench at the thought of being under her touch and strong hands. would she be rough with you too? would she manhandle you like she had with the man? would she be soft, treat you kindly?

“kick this fucker out.” your mind was spiraling in thoughts as the other security member came at her order and took the man away to kick him out of the club, but she pulled you away from all of it with her voice, this time softer, worried.

“are you okay?” your eyes met her sky blue ones, and you swore you could melt. you fixed your lingerie set, somehow worried you’d be in disarray. you weren’t. you looked as perfect as ever under her glance. irresistible.

you nodded, afraid that if you spoke she’d understand the whine in your voice. how her protection affected you.

“come with me.” she offered, her warm hand on the low of your back to guide you to one of the private rooms where you took clients for private shows.

you found yourself walking slower than how you usually did to elongate the feeling of her touch on your skin, your hips swaying at her side.

you sighed when you heard the click of the door behind you, your hands making quick work of pouring yourself a drink.

“thank you. i needed some air.” you muttered to the woman, who nodded.

“i figured.” she gave you a soft smile.

“would you like some?” you inquired her, raising the bottle of bourbon.

“sorry. working.” she turned the offer down, and you grinned.

“responsible. cute.” something inside abby stirred at your comment, her cheeks reddening slightly under the dim lights. her eyes were everywhere but on your body, and you noticed.

you took a sip of your drink, sighing.

“my night was going so good… until that pig started bothering me.” you said. “but thanks to you… i don’t have to worry about no one touching me again, huh, abby?” you smirked, your voice low, sending shivers down her spine as your heels clacked towards her.

you’ve been observing her for a while, craving her for just as long. and you could tell she did as well. so what was stopping her? was she afraid she’ll break you? if so… why did you want it so badly?

“i wouldn’t let anybody touch you…” she swallowed, her eyes on yours, even when you stood practically naked on front of her. such good manners…

“good…” one of your manicured nails trailed down her chest, she took a step back, her back flush against the door, with no scape when you followed her. “‘cause i wouldn’t let anybody touch me except you.” you smiled, and her eyes widened, mouth falling ajar.

“except for me?” you hummed, your chest pressed against hers as you looked at her lips. if she didn’t want that she could easily deny you, push you away, but she wasn’t, and she wouldn’t.

“only you.”

your words seemed to shift something in her, ‘cause next thing you knew is that it was you the one being caged in between her strong body and the door, her lips hungrily ravishing yours in a fiery kiss that left you breathless. you moaned against her mouth, giving her the opportunity to push her tongue inside, tasting the bourbon out of your spit. your arms surrounded her neck, pulling her closer, her own on your hips, pressing you against her front.

“abby…” you sighed as her lips trailed down your neck, her teeth slightly biting your sensitive skin.

“you don’t know what you do to me…” she muttered. “always looking so perfect… so fucking beautiful. makes it difficult to hold back.” you smirked, pulling from her perfectly made braid and winning a groan.

“then don’t. i like you when you’re gentle with me. but i think i’ll like it more when you aren’t.” she bit down on her lip.

“fuck. you drive me crazy.” you smiled as her warm hands cupped your ass, hosting you up so you’d surround her hips, walking you towards the sofa or the room to plop down, pulling you down against her strong thighs.

you sigh, your hips waving against hers, making her grunt as she gropes at the meat of your ass, thrusting you harder against her body. you can see the way her muscles pop in her arms, feel how her thighs clench underneath you. and it only adds to the wetness that’s already soaking your lace thin panties. the fact that it was the only thing that kept her from touching you was driving you insane.

your hands came behind your back to unclasp your bra, leaving it aside and biting your lips under her hungry gaze. you smirked, taking the back of her hand and pulling her towards your chest, moaning when she gave you what you wanted, her lips wrapping around your perky nipples, sucking and licking over the buds until spit left them shiny and her teeth, swollen and sensitive. as she played with you, one of her hands, —the one that didn’t play with your free breast— came down in between your legs, her expert fingers touching you from beneath your panties.

“you’re soaked.” she smirked as she noticed the slick mess you’d become by just a few kisses and touches. “someone needs it bad, huh?” you groaned.

“give me what i want.” you ordered as you tugged from her hair and she scoffed.

“manners.” she answered. “only good girls get what they want. if you want something you need to ask for it.” you whined.

“i want you to touch me.”

“but i’m touching you.” you moaned as her fingers squeezed your nipple.

“you know what i mean…”

“i still want to hear you say it.” she whispered and your hips rocked against her fingertips in seek of relief.

“i want your fingers. in my pussy.” you breathed against her lips. “is that clear enough for you?” you spat, and she chuckled, humming with that cocky smirk of hers that you’d absolutely despise if it didn’t turn you on so much.

“say please.” you groaned, looking down at her as daggers left your eyes. she was teasing you. pushing all your buttons to break you. and she did.

“please.” you gritted in between your teeth, and she pinched your nipple harder, making you whimper and your hips buck as she pressed up against your cunt with her hand, brushing your clit.

“be sweet about it.” you were pleading now.

“please abby, please. fuck me.”

“atta girl…” she praised in a low voice, and then she was pushing your panties aside and finally giving you what you wanted. a honey sweet moan left your lips when her fingers brushed your sensitive clit, drawing tight circles that left you shuddering.

she whistled due to how easily her fingers slipped in between your folds. “completely soaked for me, huh? so fucking pretty…” all breath left your lungs as two of her thick fingers plunged inside of you, stretching your walls and making a slick sound dive into the music that surrounded the two of you. “so tight…”

“fuck.” you groaned as she curled them, easily finding your g spot and making your back arch.

“right there, hm? look at you…” her free hand came up to surround your neck, keeping you in place. “so ready to take everything i give you, hm?” you nodded.

“yes… yes, please. anything…” you begged as she started to thrust in and out of you, your slick wetting her fingers and making white rings up her knuckles.

she chuckled. “so all i needed to do for you to behave was bury my fingers knuckle deep in your pussy, huh?” you whimpered when she curled them once again.

“shut up.” you stuttered and she laughed, curling her fingers faster and harder, making you moan and curse. “fuck, abby...”

“you sound so pretty like this, moaning my name. do it again.”

“abby, please, make me cum, please…” her thumb came up to your clit, and her grip on your throat tightened.

“you wanna cum? wanna cum all over my fingers?” you nodded. “then beg for it.”

“please…” you cried out, feeling the warmth on your lower stomach rising. you were so close… “please let me cum, please…” she hummed.

“such a good girl…” you whimpered at the praise, your walls clenching around her fingers. “go ahead angel, wanna see it drip.” with a few more curls of her dingers and circles on your swollen and sensitive clit, you fell apart, moans spilling from your lips as she helped you ride it, sucking at your nipples to extend it. “thaaat’s it. good fucking girl.”

it was not necessary to say that abby made you cum again, and again, and maybe a couple more times…

[astrolynnworld]

eiffle tower

pairing: matt & chris x reader

summary: chris sees the way you look at matt. so he gives you the opportunity to have both

warnings: smut! cheating, plot twist, exhibition, degradation, praise, language, oral, penetration, switch matt, dom chris, pig roast, little bit of aftercare.

a/n- the highly requested duo smut 😩

word count: 2,073

i love chris so much but .. sometimes i can’t help the idea of “what if i had chose matt instead”

he carries himself so well and despite the fact that they’re triplets.. i really do see him as another version of chris

the version that is more tame.

whenever he sits with us at dinner and he just looks so pretty and proper

just eating his meal, observing the conversation, sharing a joke here and there.

he’s not too loud or quiet, he’s the perfect middle ground of enjoyable.

and he’s so caring towards me when chris isn’t around

he’s cooking? he’ll serve me first. dropped my phone? he’ll pick it up for me. too anxious to speak up? he’ll talk for me, regardless of the fact that he also has anxiety.

maybe it’s because i’m his brothers girlfriend but i just sense the underlying message of care

often times then not, chris will catch me staring off into a haze at matt.

i always have to play it off as if i just got lost in thought.

i mean i did get lost in thought..

the thought of matt’s eyes rolled back as i strok-

“y/n??” matt snaps me back into focus

“mhm?” i question as i stand at the fridge door aimlessly

“i think you dozed off again” he laughs slightly, “did you hear what i said?”

i shake my head no softly as i take a seat on the chairs behind me

“you okay?” he asks while inching closer and putting a hand on my shoulder

i look up at him standing over me

“i’m fine” i mutter out

“you’ve been out of it a lot lately. wanna know what would help?” he asks rhetorically

you.

“what?” i say before chris walks into the kitchen

“a hot tub?” chris answers, acknowledging that he had heard a bit of our conversation

“you always wanna go to the hot tub” i laugh as i switch my gaze to him

“it’s not the worst idea chris has had” matt remarks

“i could be down for a hot tub” i reply enthusiastically now that matt is down

“i’ll go ask nick if he wants to come while you guys get ready” matt says

“wait im coming with” chris follows behind matt

i walk back into the bedroom and roam around for something to wear

shortly after, chris comes back into the room

“nicks not coming, he has a fever” he informs as he tries to grab his swim shorts

i nod my head and sit on the bed as i watch him change

“see something you like?” he flirts as he slowly approaches me

“a whole lot” i smile as i look up to him for a kiss

“alright love birds. we can go now” matt comes in fully dressed

i grab my bag and quickly follow behind matt

our go to hot tub spot was at the warehouse, which was only 10 minutes away from their house

once we get there, matt grabs his key card so he can unlock the gate to the pool

we trail around the side of the pool and make our way to the hot tub

they both take off their shirts before stepping into the hot tub

i could see the masculine structure lining in their backs

the broadness of their shoulders

the width of their arms as they lean back against the wall of the hot tub

i’m so lucky that i at least get to fuck one of them bec-

“wait! i forgot my headphones at the warehouse last time. i need to grab them before i forget again” chris says in a hurry as he gets out the hot tub and makes his way back to the house

“and bring some towels please” matt shouts after him

“watch him come back with none” i chuckle at his attempt

“no yeah for sure. kids gonna come back with a pepsi and forgot what he even went in for” he says as we share a laugh

“how do you even put up with him?” he says in a curious manner

“what do you mean?” i question

he starts to inch closer from the other side of the hot tub

“i see how you act, you’re not like him. you’re polite.. clean.. civil.. well mannered. how do you put up with him?” he says while fully towering me

“i- we- well because i love him” i nervously speak

“do you love him? because i see the way you look at me y/n”

i freeze in my spot

“you think i don’t notice but i do. you’d rather be with me huh? you’d rather it be me that you lay with every night right?” he taunts over me

“me who fucks you to sleep? every. single. night.” he whispers into my ear

“matt what are you doing..” i shyly whisper out

“say it baby. say you want me instead” he puts his nose to mine

i look into his eyes, “i want you instead”

he closes the gap between our lips with passion

sloppily pulling away and going back in for more as he wraps his hands around my waist

i feed into the passion, feeling a fire of energy ignite in me

“i KNEW it.”

i heard a voice speak from above us

i jump back from matt’s arms as i look up to see an angry chris standing outside the hot tub

matt starts to slowly back away as chris gets back in the hot tub and comes straight for me

he grabs my throat, “you’re such a slut. making out with my brother when i’m less than 30 feet away? you thought i wouldn’t find out or you just didn’t care?” he asks

i stay silent as i try to release his grip from my throat. only making him squeeze harder

“you know.. i had a feeling you were a slut. that’s why i put him up to this”

————————————————————

earlier:

“wait i’m coming with” i followed behind matt

after y/n walks back to my room i stop matt in his tracks

“i might need you to do a weird favor for me.” i speak hesitantly

matt was a great brother but i don’t know how deep that great would go for me

“what?” he asks

“i need you to tempt y/n into cheating on me”

“.. why the fuck would i do that?” he questions

“i’ve been seeing the way she looks at you recently. i need to know if she would or wouldn’t fold”

he can hear the genuineness in my voice. i wouldn’t ask him to do something like this if i wasn’t serious

i still love her..

i just needed to know if she likes him or not, how far she was willing to go about it.

“alright bro. i’ll try” he says before continuing to walk up to nick’s room

————————————————————

present:

i gasp as i start to find it hard to breathe.

he lets go of my throat and pulls my hair back so i can look him in the eyes

“you wanna fuck my brother so bad right?”

he pulls my head back to matt

“here. have him”

he turns me around and bend me over in front of matt

“bro.. i don’t know about-“ matt starts to speak

chris grabs my throat and shrinks down to my face, “tell him how much you want him baby. tell him how you want him to put it in. beg for it”

i silently stare at him in shock of his new aggression

“tell him.” he slaps my cheek

“please put it in matt.” i turn back and speak

“beg him for it” chris continues

“please matt, i beg you. just put your cock inside me”

matt slides my bathing suit to the side and slowly starts to align himself with my hole despite the water making it hard to see

“good girl” chris speaks before placing a kiss on the cheek he just slapped

matt lets out a heavy breath as he slides himself along my walls

i gasp as i feel the added pressure

“feels good doesn’t it baby? feels good to be a slut right?” chris speaks

i nod my head with my pout

“say it baby. say it feels good to be a slut” chris adds in

“it feels good to be a slut” i whimper out as i back into matts cock while he meets me halfway

chris traces his fingers against my lips, “who’s slut are you?”

“yours chris. i do whatever you say” i whine out as i squint my eyes from the feeling of matt’s cock hitting against my cervix

“mhmm. so good for me baby” chris says as he pushes his fingers in my mouth for me to suck

i can faintly hear matt trying to hold back his moans and whimpered pleasure as he feels my walls suck him in

the tightness of my walls clenching and pulling around him as he struggles to identify wether it’s the warm silky wetness is from me, or the hot tub.

shutting his eyes to focus on the pleasure

chris on the other hand, is so turned on by the idea of me getting slutted out for his pleasure

he likes the idea of another man being able to enjoy me like he does

i can see the bulge peering out through his swim shorts

i couldn’t let him go attentionless so i free his cock and start to jerk it under the water

he pulls away from me and slaps me once again

“did i give you permission to touch me slut?”

i pout and shake my head no

he places his cock on my cheek, “fuck. i could cover your whole face baby”

“please put it in my mouth daddy” i beg, tired of the teasing

“you want me to face fuck you baby? you wanna be a good girl and let daddy face fuck you?” he rhetorically questions

“yes please. please put your cock in my mouth and use me to your pleasure” i whine out before he shoves his cock in my mouth and starts to fuck into me

it’s like every time chris pulls out of my mouth, matt pushes into my hole. and when chris pushes back in, matt pulls out

it was a back and forth train of stimulation that sent my head into a spiral

i lost all my thoughts and all i could focus on was the whines and whimpers that poured out of my mouth into chris’s cock

“fuck keep moaning baby. it feels so good around my cock” chris whines out

“you’re squeezing- around my cock y/n.. fuck i don’t know how much longer i’m gonna last.” matt throws his head back as he starts to speed up the pace, sending me flying into chris’s dick

i know im gonna cum soon. i just feel so dirty, getting fucked and stuffed by two brothers in a public hot tub. it felt so nasty and so wrong, i couldn’t help but think of how hot that was

and imagining if someone caught us. how gross and nasty they would think i am. how much of a slut im being right now. fuck i’m gonna cum

i squeeze around matts cock as i let out my orgasm.

as soon as i finish i feel matt pull out of me, followed by trickles of warm liquid splatter all over my back.

“you’re such a fucking slut baby. you let guys cum all over you? you like when guys treat you like a fucking toy and use you to their liking?” chris continues to degrade

“fuck i’m gonna cum baby.” he finishes his final thrusts before coating my throat with his cum

he pulls out and i sit up in the hot tub with a fucked out expression, not being able to think for myself.

tears dry up against my face from not being able to breathe

matt starts to fix and play with my hair while chris wipes my eyes

“it’s okay baby, i still love you” chris says as kisses into my lips

i don’t respond. still trying to regain my sense

“we should probably get her back to the house” matt suggests

“yeah. let’s go” chris adds before he picks me up and carries me back to the car in a cradle position.

————————————————————

a/n- hope yall enjoyed 😘 i put my back into this one fr

taglist: @sturniologirlfriend @cutiepatootie36273 @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @tropicasturn @princessbetsy123-blog <333

[zweiginator]

college!patrick corrupting innocent reader……………… gawd

thinking about this but like. him bringing art in. needs his best friend to enjoy this too!!!

oh fuck because i'm thinking that patrick wants to teach you how to give head. the only problem is that he doesn't trust himself. he knows as soon as you're swirling your tongue around his tip and moaning around him with those big watery eyes of yours--he'll start fucking your throat. he can't control it and it makes him want to be the guinea pig so much fucking more. you're such a good little student; he knows you'd take it like a champ. but he'll be good.

you don't realize patrick has an agenda here. that he has strategically thought out everything he wants to teach you and put it in the order that makes most sense. it feels sleazy to him that he hasn't even seen your pussy. hasn't felt that velvety skin against his tongue, your silky wetness coating his fingers or his cock.

but he assures himself that waiting will make it better. and patrick doesn't tell either you nor art what's on his little agenda. he just tells you to come over around seven. shoots art the same text.

so you both wait outside his door. neither of you have knocked yet. you notice how art's cheeks are dewy and pink, a mixture of his proximity to such a beautiful girl, and remnants from the five mile run he just completed.

you introduce yourself.

art wipes his clammy hand on the back of his grey t-shirt and slips his palm into yours

"i'm art. it's nice to meet you." his voice is soft. he's handsome in a way that is different than patrick, but you can't quite put your finger on why that is. maybe a fundamental difference in their first impressions with you.

patrick was unabashed in his actions. aware of his effect on other people. willing and able to use his charisma to get whatever he wants in a way that borders on manipulative but couldn't quite be classified that way.

art has more trepidation. but he still has confidence in the way he carries himself. his shoulders are back, his posture near perfect.

"are you here for patrick?" he asks, breaking the silence.

"yeah," you answer, looking at the time. 6:59. you and art are very timely. "he told me to come over at 7."

art fumbles with his phone, pulling it out of his shorts pocket. it's hard to see with the glare of the late spring sun, but he shows you the text patrick sent him. it's verbatim what was sent to you, and you tell art this.

"weird. are you guys dating or something?"

you shrug. "no, i don't think. just hanging out."

art knows what that means. and he chews on the inside of his cheek. his jaw pops.

"how do you know each other?" it's your turn to ask questions.

"he's my best friend." art knocks on patrick's door for the third time before crossing his arms over his chest. you sense more urgency in the way art is acting. "we grew up together, played tennis all throughout childhood and here we are."

"patrick plays tennis?" you notice art's t-shirt and hat. it's on backwards, but it's embroidered with stark white lettering. stanford tennis. "i didn't know that." you feel small, realizing you don't know a huge part of patrick's life. naive to his hobbies and talents and his best friend. maybe you overestimated your role in his life.

art senses your disappointment in how your voice falters.

"he's not a very open person. hence why we're both here right now. dumbass probably sent me the text by accident." art kicks the door. "pat! open the fucking door, man! it's hot out here!" the veins in his neck tremble as patrick flings the door open.

"come in, come in." he ushers you both inside.

so he really did mean to text art.

he sits between you both on the couch and puts his arms around you and art. spreads his legs wide and lets out a deep sigh.

you and art look at each other, confused. but neither of you speak up just yet; perhaps its a subconscious nod to the fact that patrick is in charge here. a way to foreshadow.

"she's pretty, isn't she artie?" patrick turns to his best friend and you see him flush a deeper shade of pink.

"um, yeah. she is." art responds.

you swallow. both of their legs are spread wide, to the point where you barely have room to fit on the couch. it seems rude, but then again, maybe patrick is doing this on purpose.

"and artie?" he turns to you this time; his broad, strong torso almost obstructs your view of art behind him. "he's handsome. lots of girls think that."

you nod. "yeah, he is handsome." it's innocuous enough. and you wouldn't lie, of course not.

"what's the deal here, pat?" art says it breathily. like he knows patrick has a trick up his sleeve.

"we've been having some lessons." patrick says, only to art, as if you're not there. "i taught her how to kiss."

your breath hitches. is he going to tell?---

"and i taught her how to give a handjob, just last week. her first one ever."

"patrick this isn't my business." art shifts uncomfortably, watching the clock on the wall tick, tick, tick.

"but there's still a lot to learn for her." patrick continues, unfazed by the obvious discomfort in the room, the shifted mood that seemingly affects everyone but him. because again, he's in power. it's his prerogative. and here you both exist, at his mercy.

you're awfully quiet, but you stay that way.

"i want to teach her how to give a blowjob." patrick says it as he picks lint from his shorts, like it means nothing. and it makes you want to do it. to impress him and stay on his radar. not to be a temporary plaything.

so you lean into patrick and press a kiss to his neck, open-mouthed at the part that makes him shudder and melt. but he pulls away from you.

"not on me, sweetheart."

you look at him, bewildered. art shares the same expression, except his jaw is clenched and a pearly bead of sweat trembles over his browbone.

"on him."

art can't pretend he isn't intrigued. maybe he should put a stop to this. put his foot down and say no to patrick. except he wants it. and god, he hopes you want it to.

art looks at you, his lips parted and pink to match the supple skin of his cheeks.

patrick watches you two. has a look on his face that reads well what are you two waiting for?

you crawl over patrick's lap so you're leaning over his body. using him like a bridge. your hands grip onto patrick's thighs until you find balance. art sits up straighter, meets you in the middle so patrick has a perfect view of your profiles.

art cups your cheek and pulls your bottom lip with his teeth before sucking it into his mouth. you feel his jaw move, opening wide so he can envelope you in an open-mouthed kiss that sets your body on fire. patrick watches spit dribble down your chins in a messy meld of kisses, of tongues, of hands all over each other.

patrick grabs your wrist, the one that rested on art's jaw, and plants it square on art's erection.

neither patrick nor you expect the carnal groan that emits from art's throat.

[bigwishes]

"I wish it was bigger" (vote story)

Joey was one of the biggest guys in the gym, perfect chest, perfect abs, perfect arms. Almost every part of him was perfect apart from one aspect. Every bodybuilding show he did he got the same feedback "his glutes were underdeveloped" he had been training for years and no matter what he did he couldn't force them to grow. He even started to have a dedicated glute day but it did nothing, he was cursed with terrible genes that just left him with a flat ass.

Despite the rest of him being perfection Joey still couldn't help but dream of a nice big bubble but. He loved the idea of having to wiggle to fit his jeans on in the morning. He longed to feel a guys hand grab a handful of his meaty ass and his desperation to find a solution to grow his ass lead him to strange corners of the internet.

Whilst scrolling on his phone between sets he found a website "MAGICKSPELLSFORYOU.WISHNOW" he opened it up and saw a pixelated night sky background with a chat box in the middle. A message appeared with the sound of a slight ping.

"HELLO WELCOME TO MAGICKSPELLSFORYOU, MAKE A WISH NOW!"

Joey laughed and wrote back "hey is this where I make a wish?"

instantly a response came through "YES YES HELLO MAKE A WISH WITH MAGICKSPELLSFORYOU AND I WILL GRANT IT VERY FAST"

Joey chuckled, clearly whoever was running the site was desperate for engagement and he decided to play along.

"okay, I wish for a bigger ass"

"YES YES I CAN DO THAT FOR YOU, I AM JUST CONFIRMING YOUR WISH? YOU WISH FOR A BIGGER ASS? YES?"

"yep thats right buddy, I wish for a bigger ass, give me a big fat juicy ass"

A little ding noise played as a pixelated animation of a shooting start played on Joey's screen before his search engine crashed and returned to him home screen. But Joey didn't have time to play any more silly games, it was time for his next set.

Joey stepped up to the squat rack and began to move the weight up and down, with each movement something felt strange, it felt like the muscles in his glutes were being worked but, something else, something more. A few reps went by a Joey placed the weight back, as he turned to the side he saw something sticking out from behind.

Joey had extra mass in the back, a big bubble but stuck out from him. He was stunned and his jaw almost hit the floor as he rubbed it. He put both his hands behind him holding his cheeks and making his new ass bounce. Joey turned around facing his back to the mirror looking over his shoulder with a smile as he rocked from his toes to his heels watching his new big bubble but bounce.

He was so caught up in the excitement of finally having his glutes fill out his frame that he didn't realise he was starting to look puffy.

The sides of his waist began to creep over his gym shorts as the definition in his thighs began to merge together into one slab of mean, same with his arms, but nothing could get his attention, that was until he turned his front back to the mirror and in an instant.

*FWOOOOOMP

Joey's eyes widened as he watched his perfect abs suddenly bulk forward into a large swollen muscle gut.

"WHAT THE FUCK" Joey yelled out

"Im...f...FAT" Joey's face turned bright red as people around the gym began to look at him, nobody seemed to notice what was happening. He quickly waddled his way to the changing room feeling his stomach grumble and all the muscles and mass across his body jiggle.

Joey stood in the mirror of the empty changing room, shocked and horrified, his perfect body was now big bulky and bloated out, he was starting to panic as he rubbed his new fat muscle gut.

"Oh god....how am I gonna be ready for my show in a week....oh fuck...I....I look like a fucking muscled up pig"

As Joey finished his sentence another pulse hit his body, increasing the size of his muscles and bulk all over, but he noticed it was extra concentrated in once area, as he felt his new massive fat ass split through his shorts making the fabric start to sag, only just holding on around the waist band,

cementing his transformation as a big muscle pig, with a huge fat ass.

[merlucide]

PLEASEEEEE CAN YOU WRITE HEADCANONS WITH RIN, KAISER, SAE, OTOYA AND REO AND A SHYREADER WHOS SHY AROUND PEOPLE SHE DOESNT KNOW BUT CRAZZYYYY AROUND PEOPLE SHE DOES KNOW PLSSSSS

BLLK BOYS WITH A SHY BUT CRAZY S/O

Notes: OFC WIFEY. Also… this scenario, seems, a bit self insert don’t you think…. 👀 ALSO LMAO I MADE READER UNHINGED?? SO- SORRY LMAO?

characters: Rin, Sae, Kaiser, Otoya, Reo

wc: about 300ish each

warnings: nb reader, cursing, randomness + cringe lmao😭

ITOSHI RIN

Well tbh, y’all probably had to have been friends for a loooong time for him to ever considering dating you 😭😭

So Rin had a good understanding of your personality, as you had known each other pretty much since the beginning of time.

He never understood how your personality went from 0 to 1000 whenever you two are alone. 

He prob thinks ur on drugs tbh

He’ll be your voice for you if you can’t seem to communicate with strangers, though he might not be the friendliest no shit.

he thinks it’s dumb that you’re shy tbh

He’s small minded about these things okay 😭

He never ever will get used to your bursts of crazy energy.

he swears he’ll turn around and you’ll have a horse mask on with a tutu around your waist

ITOSHI SAE

lmao you give him terrible whiplash.

He too, also thinks you’re on drugs.

You and Sae would like be at the airport on the way to Japan, his manager would be going over the details and precautions for going to Japan (yk fans and press or whatever etc etc).

His manager looked over to you and asked if you were alright, since you literally hadn’t spoken a word since he introduced himself a two hours ago. 

You nodded and followed Sae and his manager onto the private jet(cus he’s rich-rich😌🤭)

Once y’all were settled, his manager closed you and Sae’s cabin door. 

Sae looked over to see if you were alright, since traveling and yadda yadda can be overwhelming.

You were fucking giggling like an underwater hyena (that’s a thing I bc I fucking said so bitch).

You grabbed his hands and pulled back and forth giggling about how stoked you were rn.

LMAO HE WAS TOTALLY LOOKING AT U LIKE THIS

KAISER MICHEAL

lmao he was disturbed at first 💀

like “wtf happens to my shy, sweet, s/o??”

He’ll like be getting a glass of water at night and in the corner of his eye, you hold a flashlight at your face with a blanket wrapped around you. Staring into his soul, inches behind singing.

“hello darkness my old frienddd~”

He just blinked at you for a while. 

“Y/N what the fuck is wrong with you.”

ANYWHOOO!

He thinks it’s funny af though

Like how nervous you get around his teammates and then when y’all are home you start cartwheeling.

You sure keep his life ✨spontaneous✨

OTOYA EITA

LMAO A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN

YOUR RANDOM AF.

HES RANDOM AF.

= SOULMATES

he thinks it’s so cute how shy you are

He loves that bc ur shy around strangers you cling/stay close to him. He feels so sigma male bc he’s ’protecting’ you🐺🐺🔊🔊🗣️🗣️😏😏

Someone humble him please.

LMAO HE’LL GO LIKE:

“Babe watch this😏” and ninja pose really fast LIKE A LITTLE KID DABBING

And you’ll be like:

“Nah watch this😌” *does the worm*

Y’all T-pose at pidgend together 💕 #couplegoals

MIKAGE REO

LMAO HE’LL BE DAYDREAMING AND LIKE-

“My dearest Y/N! Oh they’re such an angel! They’re so pretty and kind and perfect! And amazing- is that them in a dinosaur inflatable doing the WAP in 6 inch heels?”

lmao kinda how it goes

He never really gets used to the switch up.

It makes him so happy that you feel comfortable to be yourself around him, even if that means painting yourself pink and putting googly-eyes on while blasting the Peppa Pig intro💗

He loves hearing people talk about you too.

“Oh y/n is really shy, but they’re nice I guess?” Like hah okay..

Pretty sure they weren’t crab walking in a tuxedo with a kazoo in their mouth playing Sinfonia N°9 Coral in D Minor, Op. 125: 1. Allegro ma non troppo, un poco maestoso by Beethoven 🙄🙄

LMAO I HAD NO IDEA WERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS. I WAS LIKE “wtf am I gonna do😦”

made April 21st 2024

[fizziepopangel]

HuskerDust Headcanons (romantic)

Husk says “I love you” first. It’s not a big romantic thing, but to Angel Dust it means the world.

Angel and Husk were both quite affectionate with each other. The two can often be found cuddling in one of their bedrooms. Angel loves being held, but his favorite way for them to cuddle is actually having Husk lay on top of him since he finds the pressure grounding, and he’s found that scratching the cat demon’s back between his wings or scratching behind his ears while he’s tired and comfortable results in purring.

Angel steals Husk's hat every now and again.... Sometimes he steals it solely for the purpose of putting it on Fat Nuggets to take cute pictures of him in it.... While the pictures are adorable, this has resulted in the little pig occasionally taking it upon himself to steal the hell cat's hat, resulting in the man chasing the little creature around the hotel like a madman.

Husk becomes the father figure Fat Nuggets never had and Angel absolutely goes crazy for the relationship between his pet pig and boyfriend.

Although he doesn’t show it often, Husk does sometimes get overwhelmed, causing him to eventually break down in tears. During these episodes, Angel usually holds the grumpy drunk, rubbing his back and humming “Loser Baby” until he’s calmed down enough to talk, or until he’s fallen asleep.

Angel is a sucker for romance. He buys Husk flowers, makes big plans for their anniversary, makes long and mushy posts and posts cutesy pictures on his sinstagram, and goes all out for Husk’s birthday. Husk acts annoyed, but he secretly enjoys the little romantic gestures.

Despite not being the most romantic man, he does randomly grab Angel at random points while they’re together and begin dancing with the man, even humming or singing softly under his breath when Angel points out that there’s no music.

Charlie has so many candid photos of the couple being cute. She’s making a scrapbook for them for their anniversary

After Husk showed him the song, Angel plays “A Sunday Kind of Love" whenever their anniversary lands on a Sunday and makes Husk breakfast in bed as it plays. He calls it their song. 

When Angel can, he does drag shows at one of his favorite clubs in downtown Pride. Husk goes to every one of Angel’s drag shows to watch him perform and despite his usual gruff demeanor, he cheers the loudest when his boyfriend is on stage.

After long, rough shoots in Valentino's studio, Angel usually comes back to the hotel exhausted and sore so he sits at the bar, sipping water and listening to Husk grumble about work until he falls asleep at the bar. Husk usually ends up carrying him to bed despite constantly grumbling about being "too old for this shit".

In the event that they both wanted to get married, both of these men would try to make the perfect plan to propose to the other. 

In an attempt to be romantic, Husk would begrudgingly ask Alastor to help him make a nice Italian dinner and a cake to hide the ring in. He would be an anxious wreck through the whole dinner as Angel ate as he waited for dessert and the discovery of the ring within the cake.

Angel on the other hand would go the cheesier way of dressing Fat Nuggets up in a little tux and tying a ring around his neck with a bow and having him come up to Husk as the two had dessert with a sign that reads “Will you marry my daddy?”

In true romantic comedy fashion, Angel’s proposal pig would get to Husk right as Angel nearly choked on the ring Husk put into the cake. Of course, they would both say yes.

Despite not being the romantic in their relationship, Husk is a bit of a groom-zilla. It’s not really that he cares about flowers or color schemes or any of it, he’d be happy as long as he’s with the man he loves and their an open bar so he lets Angel handle it all for the most part…. But he does think Angel deserves the best and he’d be damned if he didn’t make sure that man’s day didn’t go absolutely perfectly.

Niffty makes Angel’s wedding dress, and although he will deny it, Husk does cry when he sees Angel in it.

Husk doesn't choose the first song they dance to, but he does request later in the night that the song Frank Sinatra’s “I Could Write a Book" be played so he can ask Angel to dance to that.

Husk recites his vows to Anthony, not Angel Dust.

[kayhi808]

First Crush - 7

It took forever to get Abby down for her nap. She was too excited about Bucky coming over today. You can't lie, you're a little excited too. It feels like an important step is being made. You've invited him into your sanctuary. You switched up the menu to a roasted chicken. He ruined the idea of spaghetti & meatballs with his guts & eyeball comment. Roast chicken was a better idea, you can just throw it in the oven & enjoy the movie with them.

Looking around the living room to see if there was something you missed. You threw Abby's toys in a basket & pushed it to the side, so at least the living room looked a little neat. You had on shorts & a peasant top. A little dressier for staying home, but you wanted to look good for Bucky.

"Mama?" You hear her footsteps running down the hall. "Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Where Bucky?" She looks around frowning. "I'm all done sleeping."

Bucky texted just a little bit ago saying he was getting near. "Pretty soon. He's on his way over right now. Let's brush your hair & put on a clean tshirt. We can wait for him downstairs.

*****

You and Abby wait on the stoop, singing songs she learned at daycare. There's a rumble of a motorcycle turning the corner that catches your attention. Of course he would own a bike. Your forehead wrinkles watching him pull in between the 2 cars parked out front. He looks sexy as hell, but you should have learned your lesson with Jason. Abby is jumping up & down clapping her hands watching Bucky take off his helmet. You have a hand on her arm keeping her away.

"How's my favorite girl?" Bucky smiles up at Abby as she pulls away from you & launches herself off the stairs at him. You're terrified that the daredevil gene will end up getting Abby hurt one day.

"ABBY!" Bucky easily catches her & hugs her to him. He sees the anger on your face and sets her down. "Abigail," turning her face towards you, "Don't you ever pull away from me like that. You know you aren't supposed to jump down the stairs."

"It's ok, Mama. Bucky catch me."

"No. No, it's not ok. What if he didn't?"

"I think you scared your Mama, Abby. Maybe you should say you're sorry." You see a stubborn frown on her face before she said she's sorry & you nod & kiss her brow. You stand up to face Bucky who looks concerned & bends down to kiss your cheek and whisper, "You ok?" He gives you an identical kiss to the brow that you gave Abby.

Nodding, "Nice bike."

"It's easier to find street parking," he shrugs. That makes perfect sense, but why does it still bother you? You shake off that thought & give him a smile.

Abby slips her hand in his, "Cans I ride it with you?"

"Absolutely not."

Bucky picks Abby up, "Let's listen to Mama, huh?"

"She's going to give me a heart attack.' You lead Bucky upstairs to your apartment. Abby has already switched topics & talking a mile a minute.

Once inside, Bucky opens his backpack & brings out 2 pints of ice cream, which brings a smile to your lips. Shyly, "I didn't know what flavor to get."

"Didn't know what would go well with guts & eyeballs? I switched to roast chicken by the way." He laughs & nods. "These are perfect. Abby, look what Bucky brought for dessert."

"Strawberry is my favorite! How yous know?"

Shrugging, "Lucky guess."

"Bucky, yous want to play toys in my room?"

"Um..."

"Baby, remember we were going to watch a movie. I'm going to make popcorn right now. Maybe you and Bucky can look for a movie instead."

"Oh yea! Come, Bucky." She tugs on his hand.

"What do you want to drink? I got iced tea, water, soda, juice...."

"Iced tea?"

"Mama, cans I has juice, please?"

"Yes, ma'am. One ice tea, one juice."

You put the chicken potato veggies in the oven. Pop some popcorn. Get their beverages and bring it to the living room. You find Bucky wearing a plastic lei and holding Pua, the pig from Moana, on his lap. Your jaw drops but you quickly take out your phone and snap a picture of him glaring at you. "Abby, where are you?"

You hear her feet running down the hallway, "I'm here, Mama!" She has a lei on & hula skirt. "I had to gives Bucky your lei."

"That's fine, Baby. It looks good on him."

Nodding, "So pretty!" She runs out again.

"Abby! What are you doing? The movie is going to start." You turn to Bucky who looks a little shell shocked. You straighten his lei. "You look good."

You hear Abby running back and now she's added on a tiara, "Ok, Mama! Puts yours on." She climbs on the couch and places one on Bucky. "There."

"That's perfect, Baby. Let's take a picture." Standing on the couch next to Bucky, she wraps her arms around him squishing her cheek up against his. "Nice! Say cheese! Smile, Buck." Then you sit on his other side and get a selfie of the 3 of you.

"Lemme see, please." Abby takes your phone and squeals. "Good work, Mama! We so pretty!" She plops down next to Bucky, "Okies, I'm ready for the movie."

You play "Moana", one of Abby's favorites so she's zoned out singing every song. Doing little dances. Bucky takes the opportunity to wrap his arm around you pulling you close. Whispering, "If you send those pics to anyone on the team, I will end you."

Next Chapter

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @ozwriterchick @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @enchantedbarnes @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @blackbirdwitch22

[februarybluues]

You spin my head around (like a record)

summary: hobie never believed in throwing his money away to useless big corporations. but, when you started working at his favorite record shop, he decided to make a small exception. warnings: slight flirting, terrible british a/n: i love this idea so so much and have many ideas for it so if you want a part 2 let me know!!!

If there was one thing hobie hated most, it was capitalism. Having to spend money on things you didn’t need but were marketed in a way that made you feel like you needed them, pissed him off to no end. Especially when it came to big corporations. He didn’t see the purpose of having to feed these ‘money-hungry pigs’, which would only end up causing harm to everything and everyone that got in their way. The only exception was small businesses. He never gave his money away on anything unless he desperately needed it, but that wasn’t often. Until it came to you.

There was a particular record shop in the middle of the city that he occasionally visited. Mainly because it was the only one near him that actually had his favorite artists. – which were rarely sold due to how ‘underground’ they were. Don’t get me wrong, he liked his fair share of mainstream, popular artists, he just also liked his fair share of small garage punk bands. The kind of small bands you’d find playing at your local pub. But, the point is: that specific record shop was the only one he actually liked. But, that didn’t change his hatred for capitalism. Which meant he wasn’t shy to ‘borrow’ a few cd’s, or vinyls from that shop. Actually, he hadn’t once paid for anything, and he’d never once been caught. That’s just how things were. He’d never planned to feed into society’s corrupt ideations. Never. He would continue to visit that record shop whenever he pleased, but never once considered buying anything. That is, until a new employee started working there.

They were perfect. The living embodiment of utter perfection. Every time Hobie entered the shop he was greeted by a sweet smile from behind the till. Everything that person did drove Hobie crazy. - in the best way imaginable. That person was you. You’d only recently gotten the job, around a few weeks ago. It was simple enough, but it definitely was not your dream job. You only got it because you needed the money, even though the pay was barely enough to get you going for the week, it was something! Despite never once having a proper conversation, Hobie knew he liked you. From your genuine, unrelenting kindness, to your style. He was fond of everything you did. And before he knew it, his occasional visits turned to him visiting whenever he could. Not because he wanted to actually buy anything, but because he wanted to see you. Any chance he got, he would rush straight over to you. It got to a point where he had memorised when you were working and when you weren’t. And now, here he was.

“Are you actually gonna pay this time?” you asked him, familiar with his habit of pocketing cd’s and vinyls and then leaving. You never did anything about it for many reasons. One of which was because you did not get paid enough to deal with it. And also, because he was insanely attractive. He laughed. Not like an actual laugh. But, a small exhale, similar to scoffing. “Maybe I am,” he said, handing you the vinyl. You smiled at him and scanned the record, noticing the familiar album cover. “Oh sex pistols!” you exclaimed, mentally taking note of how his music taste was almost as beautiful as he was. “You’ve got good taste.” you said, before putting the record in a bag. You didn’t notice how he lit up at the sudden compliment; freaking out on the inside, but playing it off well. “You listen to ‘em?” he asked, his heavy accent now very prominent. Your smile never once faltered as you looked back at him. “I love them!” you said. You began to hum the tune to one of their songs, doing a dramatic little dance, which earned a small laugh from him. “You know… It’s surprising that you’re actually buying something for once.” you commented, jokingly but also genuinely. He tilted his head to the side in response. “Oh yeah? How so?”  he leaned against the till, hands in his pockets as he talked with you. “Well, I see you here all the time. - Almost every time I'm working, actually. And - I guess I kinda got used to you wandering around and then leaving. It’s kind of weird how this is the first time I’ve heard your voice.” you laughed, and his lips quirked up in a small, almost unnoticeable smile. “What’s wrong with havin’ a look around?” his voice was low, and he spoke innocently. Despite the both of you knowing he was anything but innocent. “We both know you’ve been having a bit more than a look around.” you said, in reference to the many times you’d seen him ‘borrowing’ a few cd’s. He laughed this time. In truth, he cherished this moment. As it had been the first time he’d heard your voice. You were sweet, funny, and apparently had good music taste. All three of those traits were almost impossible to be found in the people Hobie had met. There was just something about you that was so different from everything else. So unique and-

“That’ll be 24.99” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts. 24.99? He repeated in his head, confused. He could’ve sworn that the price tag said 30? Had you given him a discount? For literally the first time ever, he handed the money to you and paid. He regretted a lot of things, but getting to talk to you was not one of them. You handed him the bag and smiled at him once more. Hobie then realised this would probably be the only time he’d ever interact with you again. In a panic, he spoke up again. “D’ya wanna spend time together after this? We could maybe listen t’the record? See if it was worth th’money?” While the usual confidence in his voice remained, there were hints of hesitation laced under his words. “I’d love to!” you exclaimed, blatantly happy. He smiled, now exposing his teeth. “Lovely.”

“I almost forgot–here’s my number!” you pulled out a pen from your pocket and wrote your phone number on the paper bag that you put his vinyl in; trying to make it as neat and legible as possible. Once you were happy with it, you handed it back to him. “I get off work at 6. Call me then and we can organise something, yeah?” you offered, to which he nodded. “It’s a date.” he said, and winked before turning around and exiting the shop; the jingling of the door suddenly sounded way happier than it usually did. Maybe your new job wasn’t so bad after all.

hey pookie just wanted to let u know my requests are opennn and you wanna request something sooooo badly so why don't you just go over there and send one in thanks love u hope you liked that little fic

[sarnai4]

Epic Translations

Nobody = Odysseus of Ithaca

Please, don't make me do this = Dang, I'm about to add to my body count

I'm just a man = No one's perfect, especially me who might be making a huge mistake soon

Unless, of course, you apologize = There is literally nothing you could do right now that won't result in me commiting mass murder

I see your wife with a man who is haunting = My man, you are going down a dark road and will be with your wife eventually, but...traumatized doesn't even begin to describe you

I have something that I must confess = I messed up. Like very badly. As in I cost us a few hundred soldiers, but we're still cool, right?

You are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great = I'm having fun physically assaulting you and want to also shame you for not killing my son like the little (redacted) that you are

Let me bring you all something to eat = I'm going to turn you into pigs. So, if you're eating pork, try to not think of any previous guests I've had

How much longer till your luck runs out = I'm getting the urge to disobey a direct order and want to emotionally prepare you for betrayal

I've got a secret I can no longer keep = Reading the room is for suckers. I feel bad and am going to emotionally destroy you right here at Scylla's tentacles to get this off my chest

Light six torches = It's important to keep our mouths shut sometimes. This was one of those times, Eurylochus

Someone's got to die today and you have got the final say = I'm THE Zeus, so if I want to add some trauma to a mortal, then I'll do it and make a spectacle of it

I know = I know that you'll die, but I also know that you JUST betrayed me after admitting to another time when you did. So, your death isn't on the top of my worry list. I'll make you a nice tombstone in Ithaca. It'll say "Here's where Eurylochus would lay one day further in the future if not for his foolishness with bags and sheep"

[pedgito]

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄

summary | both the miller brothers had a thing for you and you had a thing for them. they give you an ultimatum and you don't like that. so, instead of one, you choose both. [9k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader x tommy miller

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, au/no outbreak, age gap (sort of, it's not specificed by tommy & joel are late 40s/early 50s and reader is labebled as younger) bar owner!joel, bartender!tommy, 3somes, flirting, soft!joel (in the beginning), tommy is a little bit of an asshole, oral ( f & m receiving) unprotected piv, aftercare, joel is selfish

author’s note | joel and tommy have no interaction together in this, at least to that extent. so heed the tags and don't read if you don't like, xo.

“Actin’ like you ain’t never gripped a damn bottle in your life,” Tommy grumbles over your shoulder, fingers wrapping around your own until you have a secure hold on the neck, “tight–alright?”

Your lips pull together tensely, forcing down the urge to roll your eyes as he guides your hand through the motions as you fancily flip the bottle upside down to pour out the liquid into the glasses on the counter in quick, careful precision as you filled each one to a certain amount before moving onto the next, but somehow keeping up the swift pace Tommy was asking for.

Or, really, demanding.

He nods quietly behind you, staring back to admire his handiwork, knowing most of that was his own doing and his ability to perfect his showmanship over the past several years of heading the bar under his brother Joel, who owned the bar. 

Your relationship with Tommy was…tricky, but Joel—that was an entirely different mess.

He passes the shot off to a few waiting customers enjoying the show, and you have half the mind to think that Tommy is getting off on the fact that you’re openly embarrassing yourself in front of the patrons, but really, he’s just an asshole.

Though, you’ve come to understand that was how Tommy showed his fondness and if he was being overly nice than you’d know something was up—hell would freeze over, pigs would fucking fly, and you might actually accept his advances for once. Not today. Not with him breathing down your neck as he motioned for you to repeat the process on your own.

You take a deep breath, lining up the shot glasses uniformly and turn your wrist to grip the neck of the bottle, finding Tommy in your peripheral as he nods, “Tighter,” He mumbles, “don’t need that thing slippin’ out of your hand mid-rush and Joel chewin’ my ass out over a wasted bottle of bourbon.”

“I dunno,” You tease playfully—

Tommy surges forward and tightens your grip around the bottle.

“Think you’d know a thing or two about a good grip but goddamn.”

“If you keep this up I’m talking to Joel,” You threaten lightly, an airiness to your voice that shouldn’t feel as menacing as it does, but Tommy backs off slightly, grumbling something under his breath, “—good boy.”

Tommy rolls his eyes in annoyance, rolling his shoulder backwards as he rests his hands against his hips. You continue, swinging the bottle around less clumsily than before and pouring out the shots in quick succession—no mess, no spill. It was perfect.

Tommy scratches at his jaw, slightly dejected now as you turn back to look at him.

“What’s next?” You ask with a flashy smile, shoving the bottle square into the middle of his chest.

-

Joel catches you near the end of that day, shoving a few things away in your assigned locker, thick fingers curling around the open door, subtle smiles gracing his features as he greets you with a nod.

“It’s been a few months,” Joel reminds you, thinking back briefly on how much has changed for you in such a short time—you had friends, a solid job, a place to live, and two boys who you couldn’t help but fawn over—it was natural luck you ended up in this position, “how you holdin’ up?”

And while Joel wasn’t as forward as Tommy in his attraction, you sense it in the way he looks and speaks to you in private, no watchful eyes to spy on you. Besides, Joel seemed private and reserved, so it wasn’t that odd that he felt comfortable approaching you in private.

“Okay, I think.” You answer truthfully, playing with the curled paper of the calendar taped to the inside of your locker, your own fingers curling underneath Joel’s own, pointer fingers touching but unmoving, you glance at him hesitantly before averting your eyes to somewhere beyond him, following the eyeline of the bar as you watched Tommy wipe down the front of the bar.

“Tommy ain’t givin’ you anymore trouble?” He asks, “I know he’s technically your boss and all—”

“And you aren’t?” You chide playfully, eyebrow raised slightly as you pocket your phone and grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. “And yeah, but…no more than usual. I can handle Tommy just fine, you know?”

“I know, I know,” He laughs softly, hand moving away from the locker to pat at your shoulder, squeezing gently at your bicep—touches were so familiar with Joel. A hand on your back, a subtle touch of his fingers in the dip of your neck. He had respected your space in the beginning, even with how witfully you charmed him with ease. You enjoyed touch, viewed it as a language of love and didn’t mind when Tommy initiated it either. Often finding your own subconscious movements to cling to and touch the people you conversed with or felt comfortable around—he doesn’t mean much by it, you think, “but, he does still have to listen to me. I am his boss.”

“I pulled that card on him today, actually,” You admit, hand rising to rub at his elbow comfortingly, “he simmered down pretty quick.”

Joel sees the hold you have over his brother, both with your personality and general attraction Tommy felt with—well, most of the people Joel hired to work under him. But, Tommy is teasing with you, testy, and he’s not like that with the others. He’s comfortable enough that he can come off like an asshole knowing you won’t take it personally.

Joel chuckles, glancing back over his shoulder at Tommy before turning back toward you and rubbing a comforting finger under your chin, “Good girl.” He comments sweetly, it has your stomach doing flips no matter the context. It was a normal sort of endearment from Joel, but given the context, it feels like a praise rather than an outright compliment.

You smile shyly and shove his hand away.

“You know, we’re cooking out this weekend if you wanna swing by,” Joel offers, “it’s, uh—for Sarah.”

Sarah. You didn’t know much about her aside from the fact that she died young, around thirteen—it’s been close to twenty years now, but Joel still celebrates her birthday.

You nod half-heartedly, “Yeah I’ll—I’ll try to swing by.”

Joel smiles warmly, before pointing an accusatory finger at his brother across the bar, “Keep his ass in check, alright?”

You smirk, an underlying feeling of…something, feeling dizzy from how openly Joel adored you when it was just the two of you, “Always.”

-

Austin heat is sticky and humid, clinging to the bare skin of your legs exposed by the short summer dress you wore, strappy and flowy and—while it wasn’t an unusual sight to the Miller boys, they didn’t see it as often as they liked. So, of course, they gawk.

You shove the case of beers into Joel’s waiting grip, a subtle wink as he acknowledges your presence. Quickly crowding in by Tommy who’s already a few beers in, just by his loose nature as he slings an arm over your shoulder, squeezing gently. He sips generously on the last bit of his beer before allowing the rim to hang slack between his fingers.

“Tommy,” You acknowledge graciously—there was always a slight tinge of annoyance with him, not the type that made you angry or upset, but frustrated. Whether just plain frustration or sexual, you couldn’t put your finger on, “already starting the party without me?”

“Come on now,” Tommy teases, “you know it wouldn’t be a real party ‘til you got here.”

“Is anyone else showing up?” You ask curiously, leaning subconsciously into Tommy as your eyes spot Joel several feet away in the kitchen, unpacking the beers. “Tess? Bill?”

The bar was closed today. Always was. It didn’t matter what day Sarah’s birthday landed on. 

They had food, drinks, a cake—it was a real party, only missing its esteemed guest.

You’ve only seen Sarah through pictures and heard through stories told by word of mouth, but Joel has never cared about anything more in his life, not until the bar and long after Sarah’s death. He’d named the bar in her honor, a simple but beautiful nod to someone so special in his life. The Monarch.

She loved butterflies. And know, whenever you see them—it’s a little reminder of her presence.

“They can’t make it,” Joel speaks from the kitchen, his mouth downtrodden in its usual scowl, his natural resting face, “so—looks like it’s just us.”

“Can you handle that?” Tommy whispers teasingly in your ear and you elbow him gently in his side, “Hey—she’s already hittin’ me, Joel.”

“Stop pissin’ her off then,” Joel offers, “mind helping me, sweetheart?”

He nods toward that back and you nod quickly in response, but not before pressing a quick hand into Tommy’s side as you pinch him playfully and earn a pitiful shout, giant grin growing on your face as you depart and follow his older brother, giving Tommy an eyeful of your swaying hips, dress barely dipping past the bottom of your ass.

She’s a friend dammit. That was it.

But, it didn’t stop Tommy from crushing on you. Hard. Even at his grown age.

You follow Joel outside with a spark in your step, meeting him at the grill situated on his back deck as he flipped some of the cooking meat, an open beer in his left hand. 

“What did you need?” You ask curiously, noticing that he wasn’t speaking now.

“Nothin’,” He admits, “just like having you around.”

You smile softly, wrapping your arms around his bicep, feeling the muscle flex under your touch instinctively, his head turning to glance at you. He huffs out a soft laugh through his nose before returning his attention to the open grill, meticulously flipping the meat.

“Think if I kiss up enough to the boss he’ll give me the day off tomorrow?” You ask curiously, a hint of mischief gracing your tone as you train your eyes where he was looking, even if his gaze flicks toward you for a brief moment.

“Depends.” Joel responds gruffly, setting down the utensil to close the lid of the grill.

You huff a laugh at his ease to respond to your subtle attempts at flirting, completely harmless, but the unspoken tension lingered like a constant. 

“On?”

“If you’re being’ literal or not,” Joel offers and it sends a tingle down the base of your spine, his knuckles brushing against your hip from where you’re hanging off of his arm, “cause that can be arranged.”

There’s a brief moment where you think he’s being serious—and in Joel’s mind, he is. But, the slight widening of your eyes as the words leave his mouth have him worried, like maybe he read into this wrong.

He smirks, “I’m kiddin, sweetheart. Long as you can find someone to cover your shift—“

You interrupt him abruptly, calling out to his brother.

“Tommy!“ You half-shout over Joel’s shoulder, causing him to wince and chuckle at the suddenness of it.

Tommy’s trying to pretend like he hasn’t been staring this entire time from across the kitchen, eyes locked on your figure as you draped yourself over his brother, face lighting as you talked and the subtle touches that should be him—at least, he wished it was him.

He clears his throat and heads toward the back door, head popping out before the rest of his body, “Y’all need somethin?”

“Can you cover my shift tomorrow?” You ask, a saccharine smile and a look that Tommy fell for every time, finding you hard parted from Joel now, he notices how your hands smooth out the dress that barely covers your thighs. “Please?”

“Is this what you two are doing now?” Tommy asks, now fully in view as he closes the sliding glass door behind him, “Plottin’ against me—you can’t give her special treatment, you know—“

He points an accusatory finger your way that you swat away, both of your eyes locked on Joel who seems less than interested as he sips on his beer.

“She’s gotta find someone to cover her shift,” Joel explains, “same as everyone else.”

Tommy calls bullshit, knowing Joel would figure it out himself or cover for you—it wasn’t like you did this often, but Tommy was more than aware of all the times he came to your rescue, almost like you were using it against him. A ploy. A devious plan to get under his skin.

He knew Joel liked you—but dammit, he did too.

And even in his steadfast attempt to deny you, you reach out and grab his hand, uncurling yourself from Joel as you approach him—sad eyes and a fake pout.

“Stop that—“ Tommy warns, his voice soft and anything but demanding, but you only lean in closer, and as strong of the man Tommy thinks he is, he breaks, “—god, Fine. I’ll cover your shift.”

You smile wide, right on the edge of celebrating before Tommy is snuffing the joy out.

“On one condition—“ Tommy holds up a finger, and you have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes, knowing there was always some sort of but coming with anything Tommy agreed to, “remember that date you flaked out on?”

It was one time—within the first week of you working at a bar. Tommy didn’t waste any time and given your eagerness to try new things, you didn’t shut him down.

But, you psych yourself out and cancel.

Tommy’s always remained slightly jaded by the ordeal and part of that has contributed to your hot and cold relationship and willingness to tease each other but still have no restraints in your frustration toward one another.

“Hey—that’s not,” Fair dies on your tongue, his shoulders shrugged in a firm response, “—fine, yes. I do.”

Tommy raises his eyebrows in obvious question.

Date?

You scrunch your nose in annoyance but quickly relent, “Okay—but I’m picking the place this time. No fucking bars, Tommy.”

Joel listens to the conversation with a scowl, completely unassuming since it was his usual state of emotion.

Tommy holds his hands up in defeat, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Glad y’all got that settled,” Joel interjects with a tone that pulls your attention back to him, “if you’re done flirtin’ with each other I need some help.”

You and Tommy appease Joel quickly, helping him with the food and when you’re finally through dinner, spending a quiet moment around the cake. You don’t sing or anything—Joel hates it. But, he does light a candle and blows it out, signifying another year of her absence.

There’s a quiet moment with Joel toward the end of the night—Tommy is off somewhere in the backyard, presumably cleaning up the grill for he and Joel’s shared space. They were both unmarried and found that living together and splitting the pay was easier than anything else.

“Hey, don’t worry about that,” Joel tells you, slipping the dirty dishes from your hands as he discards them in the sink, “we’ll handle it.”

“You sure?” It felt like the least you could do.

Joel nods, shrugging as he sets his half-drank beer bottle on the counter—he’d lost track of which one it was. Enough that he feels a faint buzz in his system as he thoughts run and he admires your curious face as you tilt your head, wondering why he seemed so…lost.

But, really—it was just that kind of day. It was never good for him, as much as he tried to act like it was. Yet somehow, with you here, he feels more at ease.

“What?” You ask curiously, a playfulness to your tone. “Keep starin’ and I might just have to give you those kisses, Joel.”

And really, it didn’t sound like a bad idea.

Joel gradually moves closer, looking back briefly over his shoulder at Tommy.

He smirks slightly as he turns back to you, catching that soft, familiar smile on your face.

“Don’t think he’d be too happy about that.” Joel tells you, playing with a bracelet clasped around your wrist, his front nearly pressed against your own, so close you could reach out and slip your hands under his flannel, touch the bare skin and finally find out what those older women at the bar were talking about—Joel didn’t get around, but he wasn’t a stranger to a casual hook-up.

“Maybe I want to,” Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, “what does Tommy have to do with that?”

“Sweetheart,” Joel breathes and you can’t resist, slipping a few trailing fingers under his shirt, which he quickly grabs with his own hand, tightening around your wrist, “I’m your boss, I can’t.”

The buzz of alcohol impedes you both, smart decision making out the window now.

“Like you don’t already give me special treatment,” You reply flippantly, teasing his obvious weakness, “....Joel.”

You.

Joel kisses you suddenly—you’re only half-expecting it as his large hand rises to cup your face, the other locked firmly around your wrist and he presses his lips firmly against your own.

He tastes like beer and the sweetness of frosting as you lick into his mouth, the hand not held tight in his grip finding its way into the front of his shirt, bunched into the fabric as you sigh into his mouth, the kiss quickly divulging into a battle of who could hold purchase on more of one another, hands exploring as Joel hands find their way over the back of your dress, the tips of his fingers grazing bareskin as he grabs and squeezes your ass, your teeth grazing against his bottom lip as you pull away suddenly, but not by your own doing.

It was Joel, his face flush from the alcohol in his system but also the intensity of the situation. There’s so much unspoken there and both of you want to speak and Joel nearly does before Tommy is shattering the moment, announcing his re-arrival into the house. You chew at your bottom lip thoughtfully as you glance between the two brothers, feelings and thoughts battling in your head.

Tommy was wild and unpredictable and you craved that.

Joel was practical and determined and that’s what you needed.

And selfishly, you wanted them both.

-

The conversation that happens later that night between Tommy and Joel is anything but civil.

“She agreed, Joel—it’s not like I’m forcin’ her,'' Tommy argues, “She could’ve said no and I wouldn’t care. She knows I like her, ain’t my fault she seems to like me back.”

“You’re still her boss.”

 As if he had any leverage, it pops Tommy out of his chair and toward Joel with an accusatory finger.

“And you? You’re my fuckin’ boss so how is that any better? ” Tommy asks and Joel looks away briefly in annoyance, fists curling at his side, “Think I didn’t catch you two earlier? Cut the shit, Joel.”

“This ain’t high school, Tommy,” Joel retorts, “We aren’t fighting over her.”

“Yeah, you made that pretty fuckin’ clear when you decide to make a move on her in the kitchen and then you’re standing here tellin’ me I can’t have her—how about you treat her like a normal person and let her choose, Joel.” Tommy retorts, “Or is that too damn hard for you? Not getting what you want?”

It sparks a deep fire inside Joel. Tommy too. And you really have no choice but to give them an ultimatum—besides, you wanted both. You were getting both.

-

It isn’t like they planned it, but somehow they manage to coincide and corner you at the same moment—Joel coming out of his office and Tommy rounding the door into the backroom, your frame bent over a box of bar snacks. When you look back, your eyes widen slightly.

“Shit—am I—are you firing me?” You ask, deeply concerned. You weren’t the best bartender, but you tried.

Tommy and Joel share an equally confused look.

“No—no why would you think that?” Joel asks.

You wave your hand vaguely between them both, a serious and concerned look on both of their faces. It wasn’t out of the norm for Joel, but for Tommy, it was unsettling. 

“Then, what?” You ask, only slightly annoyed. “We’re not exactly slow on customers right now—”

Another shared look, this time tense. Which one speaks first—it feels like race.

“Look, I already told Joel—” Tommy begins.

“Sweetheart, you need to know somethin’—” Joel interjects.

And it clicks quickly. Very quickly.

The shared look of frustration as they both purse their lips in a tight line, identical hands resting against their hips. This was ridiculous—the fighting, the silent arguing without actually sharing words.

“I’m not choosing.” You tell them forthright and their reaction is less than ideal, like two sad puppies who’ve just been scolded for bad behavior, but they both stay quiet and hang on your words, seeing that you weren’t finished. “If that’s what you’re expecting me to do.”

“No, that’s not—” Joel tries to argue, his voice fairly level for how distraught he seemed.

“I want you both,” You shrug, rising with the box in your grip, “so, if I can’t have that—then no.”

And you leave them with that, stewing in their own thoughts. Their gazes follow you as you walk, shoving past them gently.

“I’m not givin’ up.” Joel tells Tommy instantly, a look of defiance from his younger brother is thrown his way–Tommy was just as stubborn as Joel, if not more.

“Yeah, neither am I.”

-

Of course, you already knew how you wanted this to go.

You spoke to them both separately, promising a proper date at a specified place on a specific day and time—they wanted you and you wanted them. But, you were doing things your way.

And that is how you end up at the Miller’s brothers home again, a few weeks later, both of the men dumbfounded at how you mastered this plan. They were both wholly faithful to you, agreeing to go along with your plan to lie to the other brother so they wouldn’t get suspicious or upset, but really, you just wanted them both chasing their own tails.

They didn’t realize what was going on until they found themselves both getting ready at the same time that day, something lingering in the air that they couldn’t put their finger on until you were knocking at the door, a wide smile on your face. Joel answers, but Tommy isn’t far behind.

It’s how you end up on the couch later that night, squeezed together and eyes droning into the movie playing on the television screen, lingering touches like burns against your skin. Joel and Tommy are trying to avoid each other, but sometimes they’ll bump fingers and shoot a scowl at each other, but then you’re adjusting yourself to find another comfortable position and their attention is quickly drawn back.

Some of it is spent against Tommy, head resting against his solid chest but Joel’s hands never stray too far, a warm and comforting presence against your shoulder or thigh, a tender rub of his thumb into your sore muscles. Tommy likes to run his fingers along the shell of your ear, his chest shaking with a laugh at the movie every so often—there was little conversation happening and you blamed that on the obvious tension in the air.

When you trade Tommy’s touch for Joel, he’s ready for you.

You tend to like wrapping yourself around him, arms snug around his own like you’ve done a million times before, but you find your fingers dragging along the length of his forearm and he’s more shifty than usual, socked feet crossing and uncrossing as your touch grows, all the while Tommy’s hand firmly on your thigh, squeezing when you squirm a little too much, feet hiked up and resting in his lap. His thumb circles your ankle and rubs, a gentle massage to your bare feet as you sigh and that—that is what catches their attention.

“That feel good?” Tommy asks casually, a genuine question.

You weren’t one to complain about sore, achy feet and muscles from long shifts at the bar, but you weren’t going to turn down a nice massage or welcoming touch. You nod and Tommy smiles, allowing his deft and strong fingers to dig into the muscles of your foot, pulling another sated sigh from your lips. Joel hears the soft release of a breath from your lips and turns his head toward you, a subtle smile pulling at your lips as he stares at you more unabashed and open than usual. It’s the same look he gave you before kissing you the night of the party and you feel it, see it before it happens.

And somehow within the shared exchange, Tommy’s hand has climbed higher along your calf as he massages tenderly until he’s nearly at your apex, supple muscle pliant other his skin as he squeezes. Joel whispers something to you as he leans in, feeling the shift in the environment.

“This alright with you?” Joel asks quietly as you look over at Tommy, who despite himself looks just as eager if not more, like they weren’t completely turned off by the idea that you wanted both of them

Possibly at the same time.

“I think I should be asking you two that…” Your voice trails as Joel’s free hand slips to cup the back of your head, fingers molding with the shape of you as he tilts your head back, allowing him the lead willingly—and Tommy is there, right there at the apex of your thighs and you want is so fucking bad it pains you, physically and mentally.

“Oh, darlin’—there’s a few stories I could tell you,” Tommy offers, fingers lingering over the button of your jeans until you nod, quickly popping the thread apart and allowing his fingers to curl around the waistband of your jeans, tugging gingerly, “but that’s not important.”

Joel mouths at the line of your jaw instead of capturing your lips immediately, dragging out your suffering longer as you assist Tommy in his tug at your jeans, kicking the denim of your ankles as his large hand settles of your clothed pussy, panties damp at the center despite how hard you’ve tried to ignore the instant pleasure they’re touch gave you.

“No, no tell me.” You nod furiously, feeling Joel grins against the side of your face.

“It was a long, long time ago, sweetheart.” Joel defends, “Back in high school and college when Tommy just couldn’t go off and have his own things, always wanting everything his brother had.”

Tommy scoffs, scooting closer to you as he drapes a leg over his lap, spreading you wider for him, his hand following a slow path back and forth—all the way down to the apex of your knee before gradually back up to your pussy, throbbing underneath his touch as his fingers press into the sticky, wet fabric.

“That’s a stretch,” Tommy scoffs, “Anyways, darlin’—we used to, uh—”

Tommy doesn’t know why he feels ashamed to admit. So, Joel does it for him.

“We like to share, sometimes.” Joel explains. “I mean, I’m not in favor of sharin’ you but if that’s what you want…”

You nod furiously, the press of Tommy’s fingers grow stronger as he slips them past the side of your panties, touching the bare seam of your pussy, covered in the copious amount of sweet slick that had accumulated between your thighs.

“Oh, that’s what she wants,” Tommy surmises, a small chuckle hidden within his speech as his mouth hangs open slightly, watching yours grow wider as you gasp, his bare touch like a spark, “isn’t that right?”

You nod again, but that isn’t what he’s looking for.

“Need you to say it, sweetheart.” Joel demands, his hand squeezing at the thigh that wasn’t stretched out over Tommy’s lap, the other resting against your neck now, squeezing the muscle gently under his grip, his lips only a few millimeters from your own now. “Say you want this.”

“I do—fuck, I do,” You whimper, a single digit slipping past your entrance and into you, the stretch not quite what you’re looking for but the touch alone—from Tommy, is enough to drive you mad, “I w—want it. Both of you.”

“I think we can make that happen.” Joel agrees easily, capturing your lips in a searing kiss—heated in a way that has your stomach doing flips and your free hand gripping his grown out hair, peppered with grays but so fucking soft between your fingers.

Tommy slips in a conspicuous second finger in the midst of the heated kiss and it surprises you how good it feels, just graced by the thickness of his fingers but you need more. Want more.

There’s a subtle snarl to the way Tommy admires you so openly, his eyes dragging along the slow rise and fall of your chest and the way you cunt sucks his fingers in with greed and nothing else. He wants to taste you. 

There’s a brief look he offers as you break apart from Joel, breathless as you turn your head toward him, Joel’s following as his eyes trail toward the point where Tommy’s fingers are buried inside of you.

“Use those words,” Joel whispers against your cheek, a smirk growing on his face, “don’t be afraid.”

“Whaddya need, darlin’?” Tommy asks enticingly, removing his fingers in an anxious anticipation, wet fingers dragging along your thigh. “Gonna let me taste you?”

“Please, god—please.” You whine pathetically, watching as Tommy dicends without question, removing your panties with a swiftness that deafens the task at hand. It takes a moment as you untangle yourself from Joel to settle more central on the couch, squealing softly as Tommy manhandles your thighs over his shoulder, settled on his knees and his palms pressing flat over the tops of your thighs.

Joel settles solidly behind you after some maneuvering, a sturdiness to his chest that takes the brunt of your weight as you relax against him, his hands quickly finding their way under your shirt and pulling it up until the fabric is bunched under your skin, bare breasts on full display as he runs a gentle, testing touch over them with his palm, eyes closing at the overwhelming sensation of both of them surrounding you. You don’t even have the guise to feel shy that this was the first time they were seeing you like this–it felt normal, like this is what was supposed to happen.

Tommy floats a hot breath against your skin, kissing a line up the inside of your thigh before he speaks, “I got you, darlin’,” He assures you, “—tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

You nod shakily, looking up hesitantly at Joel over your shoulder and he can only offer a grin, though his eyes harbor something much darker. “Tell ‘em, baby.” He urges, “You want him to eat your pussy, right?”

You nod obediently and Joel grabs ahold of your chin gently, guiding your gaze back toward Tommy, feeling the heat of his gaze burn into you.

“Need your mouth, Tommy,” You beg, earning a gentle squeeze of acknowledgement from Joel against your chin, who leans in with a gentle whisper of tell him where as you exhale an even shakier breath than before, “on my pussy—please—”

Tommy snickers softly before he obliges, a slow, languid lick of his tongue through your folds as he starts, ripping a quiet gasp from your chest as your hand instantly finds his hair, overgrown like Joel’s but stark black and gelled back like usual, never a hair out of place.

That wasn’t going to be the case much longer, fingers fisting into his hair and using it as leverage, the slow licks between your lips quickly exploring inside of you, teasing dips into your hole as he chuckles a soft breath which each and every squirm you offered, all while under the intense gaze of Joel, who was clearly holding out—he wouldn’t kiss you as hard as you tried, trained on your face as you challenged his eye contact, not daring to let it go unless he physically forced you to look away. His hand still lingered against your chin but occasionally fled for a comforting touch when things got intense too quickly and you were almost teetering over the edge, but he quickly brought you back down.

And within that, you’re so blinded by pleasure to not realize that he’s instructing Tommy the entire time, only catching onto the last few commands as Tommy devours, making his own selfish noises as he groaned when you pulled a little too tight on his hair, mumbling praises of depravity and a ‘so fuckin’ sweet—always knew you were, darlin’ and the occasional, breathier ‘come on baby—use my face, fuckin’ take it.’.

Joel speaks to Tommy directly, despite keeping his eyes on you.

“Oh, you’re right there, huh?” Joel asks you goadingly, “Need more?”

You nod eagerly, despite how good Tommy’s mouth feels, he was lacking in one important aspect—you couldn’t blame him, he was a little overwhelmed with everything, as were you. But, Joel, he seemed the most-level headed and you were so fucking thankful for it.

“Want him to play with your clit, sweetheart?” He asks, “S’that what you need?”

“Ye—Yes.” You stutter, the gentle squeeze of your breast under Joel’s grip causing you to clench around Tommy’s tongue and he flicks his eyes up toward you both and there was no telling how pathetic you looked, but Tommy seemed just as equal on that playing field.

“You heard ‘er, Tommy.” Joel tells him, “give our girl what she wants.”

Our girl.

It doesn’t take long when his tongue presses against your clit, circling maddeningly until you have no other choice but to grip onto the couch and moan, the tightening, agonizing feeling in your stomach bursting at the seams as you come against his tongue. Joel captures your mouth to swallow the moan, not trying to give Tommy the satisfaction just yet while his brother greedily licked away at your pussy, cleaning up the mess you’d made, a gentle smile on your face as you finally came back down, allowing Joel to lick greedily into your mouth before you chanced a glance at Tommy, his pupils blown out in pleasure.

“Think we should move this to the bedroom?” Joel asks preemptively, a soft laughing bubbling from your chest.

“Yeah—yes, please.” You agree, but your legs feel weak, unable to bear your weight.

“I got you, baby.” Tommy assures, helping you to your feet gently, a comforting hand on your waist as he led you toward what you could assume was Joel’s room–considering he had the bigger of the two, Joel following closely behind. 

The deafening click on the door is both a promise and a warning.

This was a secret held within these walls and whatever took place could not be reversed.

You were willing to take that risk though, selfishly.

And you were sure the Miller brothers shared the same sentiment.

-

And for some reason, you didn’t think it was that important you come again. Not after the first, seeing as how they had proved their point in wanting you, nearly brought you to tears with your first orgasm and maybe—maybe you could just blow them both and it would be fine, even the playing fields and leave it at that. 

But, no. That’s not what they wanted. Or planned for.

Joel eats your pussy for fun, he doesn’t even try to make you come. You manage to convince Tommy out of his jeans early, using the fist you have wrapped in his shirt as leverage as you hover on your hands and knees, gripping his thick cock in your free hand and giving it a few slow tugs, knowing that if he was this big, there was no telling what Joel had to offer. 

He’s uncut and girthy, thick veins lining his cock as you lapped teasingly at the head, pulling the foreskin back as you took him into your mouth, a moan reverberating over his cock as Joel ate you out from behind, ass high in the air as he settled on his knees. It wasn’t an ideal position, but Joel wasn’t complaining and neither were you.

Joel had always stripped at some point, still clad in his boxers but devoid of everything else. He’s much wider than Tommy but not nearly as firm—where Tommy has a more chiseled chest and stomach, Joel carries a softness that still beckons with strength. 

“Fuck, darlin’,” Tommy sighs, “got a goddamn mouth on you, you know that?”

To some extent, you did. He knew you liked to argue at every possible opportunity, throw back witty remarks that sometimes he didn’t even have a response to but this—this is more than he could imagine. Wet, hot heat surrounded his cock in a way that could have him coming within a few strokes, but he was determined.

You nod with your mouth latched around his cock, taking him to the base until he nudges that back of your throat, trying desperately to ignore how it makes your eyes water, hearing Tommy groan deeply with the feeling of you swallowing around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” Tommy warns, “—go on, baby, pull off if you wanna.”

You shake your head defiantly, feeling Joel chuckle against your cunt from behind you.

“She’s greedy, brother,” Joel comments slyly, “You should know that.”

Tommy comes with a low groan, fingers wrapping around the arm still gripping his shirt, thumb rubbing against the skin to soothe himself and keep him anchored here, feeling like he might teleport to another goddamn dimension with how eagerly you swallow down his cum.

You pull off with a soft pop and look at Tommy, grinning proudly. He can’t even hide his adoration, chuckling behind a toothy grin as you pull away from Joel, turning in Tommy’s lap and pressing your back against his chest.

“You think I’m greedy?” You ask Joel teasingly.

“Look at you,” Joel comments snidely, though there’s a playfulness to his tone, “couldn’t settle for one of us so you’re gettin’ both—that seems pretty damn greedy to me.”

You nod mawkishly to his words, watching as he grew closer, shifting on his knees as you leaned forward slightly, feeling the gentle press of Tommy’s palm against your back, his spent and softening dick, pressed against your bare ass. He knew it wouldn’t take long, just a few minutes and he’d be even harder than before, unable to resist you.

“And if I want more?” You ask curiously.

“More what, sweetheart?”

“Well, for starters—I want your cum, Joel.” You tell him honestly, “Can you give me that?”

“Dunno, you think you deserve that?”

Tommy’s watching the exchange with an amused grin, feeling it was a well-deserved punishment to Joel with how often you and him argue this way. Joel was finally getting a taste of the medicine he so often mocked Tommy for complaining about.

“Come here.” You beckon, grabbing lazily at his wrist and pulling him toward you.

He seems hesitant at first, but he leans over you, sandwiching you between him and Tommy as you press your lips in a featherlight touch against his own.

“Kiss me.” You demand.

“What?” He asks curiously, like his brother hadn’t just come in your mouth.

And that’s exactly why–it doesn’t make your skin crawl, in fact, it only turns you on more.

“Please, Joel,” You pout, “just a little peck and then I’ll let you fuck me while Tommy has to watch–that’s what you want right? Wanna pull some claim over me while your brother can’t do anything about it, am I wrong?”

Joel kisses you so intensely it forces you back against Tommy, a small mmph leaving your mouth as Joel quickly gained the upper hand and wraps his large, rough hands under your ass and scoots you further down the bed until the back of your thighs press against the top of his and you moan as he licks into your mouth, knowing that the lingering of Tommy’s headiness touches his tongue and you bite down harshly on his bottom lip as he pulls apart for a brief, lingering moment. 

Here it comes—the questioning consent, the lingering wonders.

“I’m covered, Joel.” You assure him, “We don’t need them. I trust you both are clean.”

Assuming that Tommy was going to fuck you too—which, god, you fucking hoped.

That’s all Joel needs, nodding before he grabs ahold of his shaft, dragging the tip of his cock through you wetness, gathering it in a slow teasing trail before he presses inside slowly, watching the stretch of you around his cock. You can’t help but keep your eyes locked on the same point either, because what Joel lacked in slight girth he made up for in length, feeling the numb press of him inside of you before he was even fully sheathed.

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” He says, voice strained, “that’s a tight fuckin’ fit. Think you can handle it?”

You laugh brokenly, Tommy’s hands comforting over your shoulder before they trail to your breasts, teasingly rubbing a nipple between his fingers, watching it pebble underneath his touch.

“Do you want a pat on the back or something?” You retort, “Fuck me, Joel.”

“There she is,” Tommy comments in amusement, “I knew you were in there. Give it to ‘em, darlin.”

“Shut it, Tommy,” Joel snaps, “Know what, sweetheart, I got a challenge for you.”

Joel moves his hips slowly, pulling out slowly before pushing back in even more agonizingly slower. “No touchin’, how’s that sound? Think you can handle it.”

You shake your head. Honestly, Joel could respect it.

“Fine—Tommy, hold her hands.” Joel settles and part of you expects Tommy to argue.

He doesn’t. In fact, he looks just as greedy about the idea. And he knows if you were uncomfortable with it you would speak up, because secretly—it was exactly what you wanted. Render your power and your own autonomy for a brief moment and give yourself over to them equally. Tommy holds his hands out in wait, wiggling his fingers teasingly.

You hand them over with a soft sigh, feigning annoyance. He guides them to wrap around his waist behind you, arms stretched over your head as Joel has a solid grip on the underside of your thighs, hips still moving slowly throughout, so slow that you forget he’s actually seated inside you until he snaps his hips once, twice, his resistance snapping when he sees you settle.

Tommy settled on his own knees, though sat deeper into the bed, his hands a tight, mindful presence against your wrist as you squeeze and claw at his skin as Joel pistons his hips with a ferocity that seeks vengeance, or something there of. 

“Squeeze my cock, sweetheart,” Joel goads, feeling you do just that as your eyes roll back, “yeah—don’t act like this wasn’t what you planned from the beginning.”

“Our girl’s good at that,” Tommy comments, staring down at you with a mischievous smirk, “playin’ us both—kinda like it though, I’ll admit.”

“Shut up,” You groan, “Both of you.”

You pointedly pinch at Tommy’s skin and he tilts his head in both amusement and confusion.

“I think she’s gettin’ a little upset,” Tommy acknowledges, “You don’t think it’s fair, darlin?”

You almost have the courage to reply when Joel’s thumb drags over your clit, rubbing in quick and determined circles to match the intensity of his thrusts, using his spread knees to keep your thighs wide and open for him, eyes locked on your cunt as you squeeze around him repeatedly, moaning wantonly into your bicep as you turn your head to the side.

But, Joel doesn’t appreciate that. He grabs your chin quickly, and clicks his tongue in disapproval, “Nuh uh, sweetheart. You keep those eyes on Tommy. Let him see how good I make you feel, alright?”

You pout slightly, biting harshly at your bottom lip as Joel shifts his hips slightly, but it feels earth-shattering, one hand planted into the mattress to allow for him to reach something deeper inside of you, if that was possible.

“I’m right—right,” You sigh, eyes tearing up as you looked at Tommy, clawing gently at his sides, “fuck–I’m right there, Tommy.”

Despite Joel being inside you, his name slips out. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. And he wants to give you relief but really, he’s just eager to be inside of you too. He knows the quicker Joel finishes up that he can have you, so he encourages his brother. And Joel is too desperate for his own release to argue.

“Ask him, sweetheart.” Joel notices your eagerness for approval from Tommy and plays into it, feeling the familiar feeling building in his gut as he grits his teeth.

You nod furiously in understanding, eyes trained on Tommy. “I need to—can I come, please?”

“Go on, baby.” He agrees softly, rubbing a gentle hand over your chest as he feels your body shake with your orgasm as Joel swiped a thumb over your clit before everything goes white, gasping sharply at the intensity, but you don’t have much time to recover before Joel is pulling out and allowing Tommy to assist as you sit up slightly and feel the press of Joel’s cock against your lip, the blurriness in your eyes quickly clearing as he comes in long, forceful spurts over your tongue.

You lap greedily, swallowing visibly as Joel squeezes at his cock and forces out the last few bits of cum he had to offer, rubbing the tip against your tongue as you giggled softly, kissing his cock head gently.

There’s a brief second where you think they might allow you a break, a moment to collect yourself, but Joel is staring at you with his head cocked to the side, palming his softening dick as he glances over you at his brother.

“I dunno if she’s up for it,” Joel offers, “I think that might’ve taken it out of her.”

A shame, really. But, your eyebrows furrow in defiance as you quickly shove Joel, gently and not at all enough to really move him more than a few millimeters. It causes Tommy to chuckle.

“He’s just playin’ around, baby.” Tommy comforts, “You think you can handle it?”

You nod eagerly, turning on your knees as you rise to meet him with an eager kiss, something you haven’t had the chance to do all night. Tommy kisses with more eagerness, more passion—it’s less experience than what you feel with Joel. Tommy has so much he wants to match with you; the curiosity and unity in the way you touch him. You kiss like new lovers and it feels your body with warmth, both of you laughing softly against each other’s lips.

“I can handle it.”

Tommy eyes you seriously, following your playful gaze.

“Get to the edge of the bed.”

And—oh, that’s…different. Like a switch and you can barely recognize him.

Joel and Tommy switch with a trained ease as Tommy guides you to the end of the bed, the top of the mattress pressing at your waistline and giving you easy leverage to lean against and Joel is right there, in perfect view and waiting for you. He seems softer now too, more relaxed.

You think Tommy might give you a moment but he’s already hard again and eager, sliding inside of you in one go—hard and sharp as your hands press into the mattress between Joel’s thighs, gripping the sheets tightly.

=

Tommy grips tightly at the back of your neck and pulls you upwards, pressing his face into the side of yours and speaking tensely against your skin, “Why don’t you be a good girl and give my brother a taste of what your mouth can do, huh, baby?”

You nod obediently, shivering at the way Tommy mouths at your skin greedily before forcing you back down against Joel, his hands spread out beside him, cock hard against and resting against his belly.

He’s almost positive he won’t be able to come again–not this soon, but he isn’t going to deny himself the taste of your mouth, watching as you move with eagerness to please him and Tommy. The sharp snap of Tommy’s hips makes it a little difficult and Joel wants to scold his brother’s eagerness and lack of restraint, but he knows—Joel knows how good you feel and he can’t even blame him. 

He offers a guiding hand as you swallow him down, swirling your tongue around the tip a few times, repeating the process with his hand resting gently against the side of your face, thumb rubbing tenderly at the joint in your jaw, feeling him stretch you and heightening the growing ache that will linger for a while.

“Fuck, our girl’s got such a sweet pussy, don’t she?” Joel comments snarkily, eyebrows furrowing when you take him a little too deep, “Can’t get enough of it—just like this goddamn mouth.”

You moan pathetically and Joel can’t handle it, gripping your face between his palms as he presses his lips to yours forcefully, swallowing the whine that leaves your mouth as you feel Tommy’s hands roam and tightening against your body, soft expletives leaving his mouth as he fucks into you and hand gradually arriving at your shoulder and tightening around the skin, pulling him back against your harshly.

Joel rubs his thumbs against your cheeks, eyes locked on yours, “Yeah—think you can come again, sweetheart?” A third? Not a fuckin’ chance. You shake your head weakly, ‘You can, I know you can,” And there’s Joel’s soothing voice, the one you hear so often at work, “You keep your eyes on me, alright? Nowhere else.”

“Listen to ‘em, baby.” Tommy interjects after a long bout of silence, too lost in his own head as he relishes in the squeeze of you around his cock, committing it to memory. “Gonna make sure you feel us tomorrow while you’re at work.”

Joel chuckles at that, the slow trail of Tommy’s hand as it finds your clit and begins slow circles, easing into it, “Yeah, how ‘bout that,” Joel comments teasingly, “maybe we just can’t resist ourselves and we can take turns fuckin’ you in the back office. But, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You moan sheepishly, eyes falling shut up.

Joel tsks, “Eyes on me means you keep ‘em open too, baby. Answer me.”

“Yes—yes, fuck—I would. I would.” You rush out, feeling Tommy’s pace quicken and the ache in your stomach builds and builds, tears building in your eyes as you keep them locked on Joel. 

Despite his demands his face remains gentle and you find yourself sobbing softly into his hands as Tommy snaps his hips one last time, coming inside of you with a deep, guttural groan as he tips you over the edge too. It’s too much, overly-sensitive and your muscles burning with more ache than when you started you let out another sob, falling against Joel.

“Go on, get somethin’ to clean up,” He tells Tommy over your shoulder, “I got her.”

You fall slack against him, feeling him adjust himself on the bed until you can sit properly, leaning you against his body as he hands run along your back, soft sobs wracking your body.

“Hey, you still with me?” Joel asks hesitantly. “Was it too much?”

You feel yourself start to calm under his touch, quickly shaking your head.

“Just…overwhelmed.” You admit, “Too much.”

“Too much?” Joel echoes with an endearing chuckle. 

“Yes,” You admit amusingly, “I guess I wasn’t expecting…that.”

“That’s fair,” Joel offers, gripping your hand in his own and intertwining your fingers, “this doesn’t—we don’t usually do this. We haven’t in a long time. I don’t want you to think this is something you're bound to now.”

“Like he could fire you if he wanted to,” Tommy interjects with a sly grin, somehow managing to redress amidst your talk with Joel, just a pair of dark colored briefs but it allows what just happened to settle in more deeply, “come here, darlin.”

Joel switches off, pulling his own underwear on somewhere near the other side of the bed. And you welcome the warmth of the washcloth as Tommy drags it between your legs, hissing only slightly, “I know, you’re pretty sensitive—m’sorry.” Tommy mumbles, gingerly cleaning you up, dragging the wet wash cloth along your thighs as well, tender from his and Joel’s teasing bites at your flesh. “Better?”

“Thank you.” You say softly, his free hand gripping your waist tenderly.

Joel offers up your clothes silently, eyeing his brother wearily as he bounds around the room, gathering his own clothes and re-dressing, though Joel stays in his nearly bare state of undress, briefs allowing him some modesty.

“I’m gonna check the bar,” Tommy offers, “should only take an hour or so.”

Joel nods, “Alright, just…keep me updated, I guess.”

He isn’t ushering you out either, his lingering presence by your side as you pull your underwear up your thighs, a gentle touch of reassurances as you wobble on unsteady legs. Tommy chuckles lightly at the sight, winking when he catches your disgruntled gaze, nose scrunched up in annoyance. 

“No fun without me.” Tommy jokes.

“Tommy—” Joel says steely as his brother throws his head back over his shoulder, slipping on his boots, “get the fuck out of my room.”

Tommy offers a mock salute and does just that, leaving you alone with Joel for the first time that night.

“I’m guessing the same rules apply to me?” You ask, shoving your arms through the holes in your shirt, yanking it over your head and you catch Joel shaking his head, pulling you to your feet with a hand when you finally look at him.

“I got you all to myself now,” Joel says quietly, “think I deserve to be a little selfish.”

You wince at the thought of any more sex tonight, but are thankful his hands down stray from your side when they settle there.

“Joel, I can’t—”

“Sleep here tonight,” He offers, “I’ll cook breakfast in the morning."

“I think you just want to keep to yourself all night so Tommy can’t have me, don’t you?”

Joel grins, leaning in for a gentle peck of your lips, “You’re damn right, sweetheart.”

[hedonists-den]

POV: You're my perfect live-in feedee and I've sent you a message for when you wake up while I'm at work for the day.

Enjoy!

TRANSCRIPT:

Good morning. I hope you slept well. You looked really peaceful this morning so I decided not to wake you up before I left. These midnight feedings really seem to be helping your sleep, I’ve noticed. Beauty rest has a whole new meaning when you wake up fatter every time, doesn’t it? 

Anyways, I just wanted to leave you this message to let you know that I might be back a little late tonight. But don’t worry, I made sure that you’ll have everything you need for the day. The pantry and the fridge are full of your favorites, baked goods and some joints are on the counter, I pre-packed a few bowls for you too, if that’s what you’re feeling, and of course you have my card on the delivery app for anything else you might want.

I have to admit, the way you’ve been giving yourself to this lifestyle has made it really hard to focus at work lately. When I think about what a perfect, lazy pig you are at home while I earn all the income to enable you…it just drives me crazy, you know that? Nothing else feels as good as enabling you, indulging your wildest fantasies of being a complete hedonist, watching your body fatten up and concede to the excessiveness of it all… It almost makes me want to stay home and tend to you all day. I know I can’t, but….fuck, you have no idea how badly I want to.

I want you to be extra greedy for me today, okay? Don’t deny yourself a single thing. Even if you’re full, eat more. Keep your high going all day and really indulge. I’ll be putting in some deliveries for you throughout the day when I get the chance. And I expect to come home to empty wrappers and containers all over, with your big, pretty belly hanging out of your shirt for me to grab and admire. I’ll have dessert to feed you too, don’t worry. 

I plan on doubling your weight by the end of the year, and I’m going to do everything I can to get you there. There’s no such thing as too big for me, I’ll take care of every need, every desire, even if you get too fat to heft yourself around. All that matters is that you live your best, most pleasurable life, and I’ll handle everything else.

Alright, I should probably get going. I’ll need some time on the drive to work to clear my mind from this. I’ll see you tonight, piggy.

[tsukimefuku]

The broken idealist: Higuruma Hiromi

And how the world of JJK viciously punishes idealists.

Before we start, let’s set some premises:

This is an essay based solely on my opinions and my own knowledge of criminal justice. I’m no professional writer/essayist.

JJK is a critique on unfair systems that reward selfishness and nurture individualistic (oftentimes destructive) behaviors.

One of the main motifs in JJK is (un)fairness.

Even when rewarded by these systems, individuals usually end up alienated (Gojo being the utmost example, but so is Sukuna to some extent).

The world of JJK punishes idealists very harshly. 

I might've read waaaaay too deep into his character (apologies in advance).

I am ABSOLUTELY biased in analyzing this character because I kin Higuruma very hard and identify profoundly with many of his struggles.

[queue “Pigs” by Pink Floyd] Let's do this.

The ideal of truth and Higuruma choosing to be a criminal defense attorney

Higuruma shows up in the manga as one of the top players of the Culling Games. Throughout a few chapters, Gege introduces him to us as a former criminal defense attorney that has lost it after one of his clients gets his innocence verdict overruled and is unfairly convicted for a crime he didn't commit, triggering Higuruma's cursed technique to awake, ending up in the deaths of the Judge and Prosecutor that contributed for the wrongful conviction.

Along those chapters, we get to see two very interesting things: Firstly, the fact that Higuruma actively chose to be a lawyer, instead of pursuing a career as a judge. Second, his stance and lines about truth, especially this one: "Even if no one else does, I want to keep my eyes open."

Higuruma, for me, is a prime example of how someone moved by truth and justice can become a self-righteous, cynical individual (I'll refrain from the word "villain" because he wasn't ever an actual "villain" in the story). From the get go, when we get more information on his past, we can see his mental state slowly declining as he gets progressively more overworked fighting an unwinnable fight. 

We have some very important pieces of information from chapter 158: Japan has a 99% conviction rate. The public opinion about defendants is that they're always guilty. Higuruma earns little, works a lot and his job is usually trying for a miracle, to be that 1%. And, finally, that Higuruma chose to fight an unfair system from within. 

That not only has huge parallels with the world of cursed energy, but is one the most important messages I feel that JJK is building up to — you can't reform a broken system from within, because structurally and systematically unfair systems will always push things back into a state of unfairness / status quo. We see this when Gojo says, at the beginning of the manga, that even if he killed all the higher ups at that point in time, other assholes would just take their places. To a more fundamental level, we see it in Yuki's failed efforts to end curses from the perspective of a jujutsu sorcerer, and the way the story is progressing towards a complete rupture with the current state of cursed energy altogether to give place to something new.

The message is: To fight an unfair system from within and by its own rules is and always will be a losing game.

Now to Higuruma's fallout, we have a perfect storm for what happened to him — an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. 

I'll dive a little into criminal law (and c.l. procedure) and make many oversimplifications to get a point across, so I apologize to any other criminal lawyers out there reading this and cringing at the oversimplifications.

In theory, the Criminal Justice System should be preoccupied with the truth. Criminal Law, in essence, is attributing a penalty (prison, fine, death, etc.) to an act (to kill, to rob) described by law as a crime. In that regard, then, one could only suffer said penalty if they actually committed the act that the law described as being a crime. 

Where does truth come into place here?

To investigate if something happened in the world of facts (the real, concrete world) is essentially a search for truth, which to me is very telling of Higuruma's choice in becoming a criminal defense attorney. 

In an unfair system in which 99% of people are convicted, it'd make no sense for this man to become a prosecutor. The prosecution is already benefiting from the system, considering the way the scales are tipped. That's a given.

But regarding the judgeship, things become more interesting. In a fair criminal justice system, the judge is forbidden to engage in probationary activity (which means, basically, that the judge cannot search for evidence, investigate or look for witnesses, he can solely analyze what the defense and prosecution bring to him in order to give a verdict — the judge does not engage in the most important activity in finding the truth).

Why can't the judge do that?

Because when the presumption of innocence is in place, anyone is presumed innocent until proven guilty, ergo, if there is not enough evidence to convict, the person must be acquitted. If the judge engages in that activity, they'd be taking on the prosecution's job — to prove the occurrence of a given criminal act. We have separate places for judging and prosecuting for a reason.

The scales are already in favor of the prosecution (they literally have THE STATE’S aid ikn the form of police forces to investigate and taxpayer money to foot costs during criminal lawsuits), so anything that might end up harming or weakening the presumption of innocence is strictly forbidden, including having the judge engage in probationary activity. If the lack of evidence is enough to acquit someone, then having the judge searching for evidence automatically harms the presumption of innocence, because if there is not enough evidence to convict someone, the judge MUST acquit. 

In that scenario, then, the best place for someone who wants to search and defend the truth against unfairness is the Defense stand, clearly. 

Everything said up until now about how the criminal justice system should work is just the theory, however. The reality of it is far sinister. The criminal justice system is a machine perfectly conceived to chew out those who fight for fairness, because fairness is not one of its main goals. It's main goal is serving as an instrument of power (in the most Foucaultian sense of the word) and control over citizens and, to some degree, appease collective concerns about crime rates and violence by making examples out of people, whether they're guilty or not (I could go on a tangent here for hours about the criminal justice system, capitalism and protection of private property by the state, but let's not do that, lol). 

That's why Keita's trial is the perfect storm to break Higuruma's psyche so deeply. All the systematic unfairnesses that exist in the Japanese Criminal Justice System chomp away his ideals — one might say, what constitutes the very core of who he is — and unceremoniously spits it right back in his face. 

Independent defense lawyers are systematically in a worse position regarding resources to gather evidence in their client's favor; it's easier to convict someone who's already under the gavel than to start a new investigation on somebody else and spend even more taxpayer money; to convict a person whom the people deem as guilty soothes the public opinion regarding how well the criminal justice system actually works to "keep society safe from these foul criminals" (not human beings); the appeal is a limited resource in most criminal justice systems, so after one gets their innocence verdict overturned, to get it back is extremely hard.

Everything worked perfectly to break every inch of Higuruma's ideals. It's no use for you to be the only one willing to stare truth in its eyes if everyone else looks away because it's more convenient to let the unfair gears keep turning the way they do. You'll give yourself to unnecessary suffering meanwhile nothing ever changes. This could even help draw a parallel between Higuruma's and Geto's fallouts: to realize how broken the system is, how you can't break a wall with the toy hammer the wall builders give you, and how lonely/depressing/infuriating of an experience it is to realize all this and still know there is absolutely nothing you can do. 

The game is rigged, and if someone ever so chooses to not play by those rules, they're viciously punished.

Now that we've gotten to the breaking part, let's see how it manifests in Higuruma's own cursed technique and domain expansion.

The broken idealist and the cynicism

Someone had made an amazing post about how Higuruma's domain expansion was a perfect demonstration of his own cynicism at the moment his abilities were awakened, but I couldn't find it! So OP, if you by any chance end up reading this, HMU, because what you said will be featured here. (Edit: found it. Thanks, Eugie! The post can be accessed here, and @wolke17 made a deeper analysis after it, take a look at their profile)

In order to talk about Higuruma's cynicism stemming from his disappointment with the criminal justice system, we need to talk about his domain, so that's what we're gonna do now.

In his domain expansion, we meet his shikigami, Judgeman, who is an all-knowing creature responsible for giving off the verdict at the end of the debates between the two parties. According to Higuruma, Judgeman knows absolutely everything about someone's life the moment they enter his domain.

All is well up until now, isn't it? Hm, not so much. There are some very serious philosophical conundrums to having an all-knowing being bestowing judgment (skeptical catholics went crazy over this for many centuries). 

Think about this: in a Courtroom, we have a judge who needs to get to know the facts, and is presented with two different hypotheses about the facts (prosecution and defense), for which the evidentiary activity (collecting evidence) is needed to support one hypothesis or the other. Given that we abide by the presumption of innocence, you don’t even have to prove the defense’s hypothesis to get an acquittal, as long as the prosecution one isn’t proven beyond a reasonable doubt.

What’s the issue with having a judge that is omniscient? 

First off, why would two hypotheses need to be confronted if the judge already knows the answer — if the person did or did not commit the crime?

On another note, now going into more of a “well he’s just judging based on the allegations”, it gets deeper. We have a judge that knows what happened, but simply decides based on the parties arguments. This is a huge issue because firstly, it obliterates the value of truth in the justice system — if criminal law is attributing to a particularly reprehensible action a penalty, and judgeman knows if that action took place or not, yet doesn’t decide according to what happened, but according to who best defends their point of view, it annihilates the very own reason for collecting evidence, the reason that a judgment needs to take place and the reason for criminal law even existing.

In Higuruma's domain, then, truth becomes the least important thing. In there, who has the better argument wins the debate. The judgment that happens within Deadly Sentencing is not about truth, it’s about the game's rules (or, more specifically, his domain's rules) and who plays them better, which makes it all the more ironic that Higuruma sees so much “potential” in the Culling Games due to its rules and established mechanics.

In a courtroom setting, having an omniscient judge is always, in any scenario, a cynical game of wits, and it fits perfectly with the philosophical fallout Higuruma experienced after Keita's conviction. His perspective got switched from "who deserves to win according to the truth" to "who plays the game better". He lost faith in the criminal justice system, and to a deeper degree, he lost faith in fairness in the world as a whole.

And that's why we can arrive at the conclusion that Higuruma is, in essence, a "broken idealist" character: he's not pandering to the idea that "the winner should be the one who plays the rules better” because he truly believes it; he's doing it out of resentment, because he got time and time again punished and was subjected to a hell of a lot of suffering for upholding his own ideals of truth and fairness. He's not acting, he is reacting to being unraveled and broken the way he was.

It also shows in his discourse regarding the weak, and the way he tries to place himself above what he dubs “the ugliness of people”, as the only one who sees the truth (“darkness is only darkness / people are ugly”). It’s a mirror: he experienced his own helplessness (or weakness) with Keita’s conviction, so in an effort to try and protect whatever is left from his own psyche, he’s actively denying how helpless he really feels by putting himself above the “truly weak”. 

In the end, however, Higuruma kept his idealistic essence alive instead of giving himself over to the story that he told himself as a defense mechanism, unlike Geto, which is why it was possible to bring him back.

Even broken, he remained an idealist at heart.

written by tsukimefuku ㋡ comments and reblogs are appreciated. do not copy, translate or repost. copycatting is for losers.

[watchmegetobsessed]

NO MORE GAMES

A/N: so this concept might be familiar for some of you bc i posted about it earlier before i started working on it but now its officially here! and this is my thank you gift for all of you for reaching 15k followers!!! it's insane, thank you so much and hope to bring you even more stories soon!!!

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Your friend forces you to give Tinder a try. Surprisingly you fetch a date with the handsome and a little bit older Harry. But he stands you up and you lose hope in dating. However it's a real plot twist when you run into him at your dad's barbeque and he is introduced to you as the future CEO of your father's company.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“This has got to be the lowest point of desperation.”

“Don’t be so dramatic!”

“I’m not, this is truly the end.”

Dani rolls her eyes and just keeps tapping away on your phone’s screen, setting up your Tinder profile.

You. On Tinder. The app you swore you’d never use. How did this happen?

Well, it happened because your boyfriend of two years decided to dump you in a McDonald’s parking lot, only to post about his engagement to another woman on Facebook three weeks later. 

Disgusting pig, you’re convinced you were blind and deaf in those two years, that’s how you could put up with him for so long.

You’ve been wallowing in your self-pity for the past three months and Dani, your best friend had enough and said that you need to get on a dating app, hook up with some fine ass men and forget about Cruz.

“Alright, it’s all set, want to have a look?” Dani smirks, obviously pleased with herself as she hands you over the phone.

It’s a decent profile, she chose some good pictures of you, your profile was never your concern, it’s others on the app that makes you crawl out of your skin.

“Perfect,” you flash her a forced smile, she grabs the phone and then starts swiping vigorously. “Hey! Don’t swipe right on everyone!”

“Not everyone! Just the hot guys!”

“You’re not even reading their bio!”

“Because I don’t care, we’re looking for a hookup, not your husband here, duh!”

You sit, feeling helpless as you watch your best friend decide who is worthy of you in the virtual meat market. This is really not your scene and you’re more than skeptical anything good will turn out from it.

Dani keeps swiping for a while before you finally talk her out of it and you settle watching a movie instead, forgetting about the profile that is now available for every single man in your area. 

To be honest, it completely slips your mind until you’re getting ready for bed and unlock your phone to set an alarm and see all the notifications from Tinder.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, falling into bed as you unwillingly, but tap on one of the notifications and the app opens.

It’s been only a few hours, but you got twenty-seven matches and five out of those even messaged you. You instantly skip the first three because one straight up asks for nudes, one just sends you a bunch of emojis and the third one sent the worst pick up line you’ve ever heard. 

The fourth one is okay, but it’s kind of… well, it’s a simple “Hi, how are you?” and you’re not sure how to reply to that, so then only one’s left.

Harry.

The age next to his name reads 36, that’s not that big of an age gap, only eight years, you’ve seen worse. Besides, he looks younger, almost your age according to the pictures. He has a couple, but not too many. He’s smiling on his profile picture, the t-shirt displays his many tattoos on one of his arms, his hair is slightly curly and mostly a mess, but it’s the good kind.

He is definitely your type. 

He opened with referring to something that’s written in your bio which feels nice, knowing that he actually read it instead of just swiping right based on your pictures. Your thumbs hover over the screen for a bit before you finally give in and type him an answer.

He replies right away. And so the conversation starts.

One message follows the other, you’re jumping from one topic to the next and at one point it feels like you’re talking to an old friend and not a guy you’ve never actually met. The next thing you realize that it’s three am and you’re still talking. 

Y/N: We’ve been talking for hours and you still haven’t asked for my number, should I take it as a bad sign?

HARRY: Didn’t want to seem too pushy, but I wanted to ask for it the moment I saw your profile. 

You smile like a little girl as you type your answer.

Y/N: That would have been too soon, you’re right. But now would be a good time.

HARRY: Hey, crazy idea! Can I maybe have your number?

You laugh. You genuinely laugh at the screen and that probably never happened before.

You give him your number. 

You didn’t think it would go this far, this whole Tinder ordeal Dani forced you into. You were kind of set that it won’t work so why should you even try? 

Now it’s a surprising outcome that you’re on your way to meet Harry at a bar, only three days after texting nonstop. And you’re kinda nervous about it.

You haven’t been on a first date in a long time and it’s giving you the jitters as you get ready. Your experience getting to know Harry in the past few days has been incredibly positive, you wonder if it will be the same when you physically meet.

You arrive at the bar a little early and take a seat at the table he reserved on his name. To ease your nerves you order a vodka soda that you drink quickly, the alcohol mixing in your veins pretty fast, but you’re still nervous to meet him in real life. 

As you wait, a guy comes up to you who seems to be more interested in your cleavage than you while he tries to chat you up, but you quickly reject him, your gaze keeps returning to the entrance, expecting Harry to walk in at any moment.

Minutes pass by and then seven o’clock rolls around, the time when you were supposed to meet, but you see no sign of him, which makes your stomach twist and turn. You double check the time, the date and the place to make sure you’re where you need to be.

“You seem awfully lonely,” a voice speaks up behind you and for a split second you think that it’s Harry, you just missed when he walked in, but when you turn around you see a totally different man, holding two drinks in his hands, clearly offering one to you. You make no effort to accept it.

“I’m not,” is all you say, turning your eyes back ahead. He doesn’t get the hint.

“If you’re waiting for someone I’m happy to be your company until they arrive.” He rounds the table and stands in front of you, blocking your view of the entrance entirely. Exhaling irritatedly, you finally look up at him, your face making an obvious statement that you’re not open to the chit-chat.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“You definitely seem like you could use some cheering up, let me be the–”

“Oh my God, are you really this dumb? It’s a no, I don’t want to talk to you, now leave the table!”

“Jesus, what a bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he walks away. Normally, you’d definitely call him out, but right now, you’re just staring at the entrance, almost like a maniac as the minutes pass by and there’s still no sign of Harry.

You check your phone, praying there’s gonna be a text at least, saying that he is just late, that he will be here soon, but nothing. It’s dead silent. 

“Fuck,” you breathe out, your feet jumping underneath the table. It’s already twelve past seven. This is not just being fashionably late now.

You wait some more, hoping for a miracle, but it never comes. So does Harry.

When it’s been over thirty minutes you chug down the rest of your cocktail you ordered to make you seem less like a loser and call it a night. On your way out of the bar you pull up your messages with Harry and send him one last text.

Y/N: Thanks for nothing.

And then you block his number, throwing the experience to the very back of your head while you delete Tinder off your phone.

The annual barbeque is here. Once a year your dad’s home turns into one big fair, he invites most of his employees, investors and partners, throwing a feast in his backyard. It means about five hundred people invade your previous home, where you still spend a lot of your time even though you have your own apartment now. 

You always come as well, because one, your dad loves to show you off and introduce to everyone and two, you usually use this occasion to network a bit. You’ve just opened your own gallery and what’s a better place to promote your art than a backyard full of wealthy investors? Selling your art can seem like an impossible task sometimes, or to be more precise, most of the time. Until your work is not known you make no profit, you need that first purchase that will bring in the rest and get the business rolling. Unfortunately you have not had that one first customer.

Yet.

It’s a sunny Saturday, as if your dad ordered the weather especially for the occasion. There has never been a barbeque with rain or cold before, your dad seems to have control over this as well. There’s endless food and drinks, several activities for children, since it’s a family friendly event and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, mixing and mingling.

You’re nursing a mojito you mixed yourself, so it’s generous in the alcohol department. Wearing a white sundress you’re trying to have a word with everyone you know and everyone you want to know. 

“Sweetheart!” You hear your father calling out and you spot him a few feet away, waving at you. “Come over here, I want to introduce someone to you!”

Excusing yourself from the conversation you slalom between the guests and reach your father under the oak tree that’s near the tiny pond in the middle of the backyard. Yes, your father has a pond in his backyard, as well as two pools, a jacuzzi and a whole ass greenhouse. He is just that extra.

“Hi daddy,” you smile, joining him as he places a hand to your back and gestures towards a man who is currently turned away.

“Y/N, let me introduce you to the man who will take my place in the future, my successor, if you’d like. This is Harry Styles. Harry, this is my only daughter, Y/N.”

Your body makes the realization faster than your mind. The man turns towards you, but by that moment you’ve already recognized the tattoos you’ve looked at in pictures more than you’d like to admit. Then you see his face and your stomach drops before your brain processes who you’re facing.

Harry stood you up on your first date two weeks ago and you thought you’d never see him, but fate decided to make a joke out of it, because now he is here, in the flesh, looking at you with a just as shocked expression as yours.

You both are quick to gain control back over your faces and Harry is the first one to break the silence.

“Hi, it’s, um… It’s nice to meet you,” he clears his throat as he holds a hand out for you. For a short moment you think of just turning around and walking away, but you don’t want to cause a scene and have your father question your behavior, so instead, you shake his hand, the touch of his skin sending tingles down your spine as you let go of it in a bit of a hurry.

“Yeah, it’s really nice to meet you,” you nod, but can’t hold back the spite in your voice. Luckily, your dad seems to be oblivious to the scene happening in front of him. 

“Remember that awfully long procedure we had to find the perfect person to take over after me? Harry was the only one to survive it and I knew we found our guy.”

Your dad pats him on the shoulder proudly and Harry smiles back at him, but you notice how tense he appears to be, most likely because of your presence. 

“Ah, he seems like a decent, reliable guy,” you add with a forced smile and you know he understands the meaning behind your words.

“He is!” you dad beams. “And Harry, this is my wonderful daughter, she graduated from CalArts, top of her class, she is an exceptional artist, you should see her work!”

He has seen your work. Well, virtually. Naturally, you talked about what you do and he asked you to send pictures and you did.

He loved them. Or at least that’s what he said. Now you question everything he wrote in his messages. 

“I’m sure she is… fantastic.”

The torture continues for a few more minutes before others join the three of you and you have a chance to slip away, which you grab without hesitation. 

It feels like all your blood is pumping in your head, you can’t tell if you’re shocked, angry or disappointed, most likely all of these together. Part of you wants to chug something strong to forget about it all, but then another part wants to read everything on him and tell him to fuck himself.

A tequila shot and some internal raging later you’re inside the house, it’s quiet, everyone is enjoying the weather outside, so you have a chance to settle your thoughts. With another mean cocktail in your hands you’re pacing back and forth in the spacious living room, your racing thoughts making it impossible to calm yourself. 

“Can I at least try to explain myself?”

The voice coming from the sliding door that leads out to the backyard makes you jump and when you turn around you spot Harry standing there, looking awfully good, but you’re way too angry at him to acknowledge it. 

“I don’t think I want to hear it.”

Out of frustration you can’t do anything else than drinking and avoiding to look at him, hoping he might disappear if you ignored him. Unfortunately, it’s not the case, he moves closer.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry about standing you up. It was unacceptable, I know. I had a… um, I had a family situation and I didn’t have a chance to let you know I wouldn’t make it.”

“What situation?” you ask right away, and when he hesitates you know it’s all made up. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I don’t need your apology, you didn’t think it was necessary to tell me you wouldn’t come then, now you’re only apologizing because you were forced to meet me.”

“Y/N, it’s not… it’s not what you think.”

“Oh, I think it’s very much what I think it is,” you let out a bitter laugh. “It’s fine, but I thought you were mature enough to tell me you’re not interested in me anymore. I’m a big girl, I can take the rejection.”

“But I was interested, I still–” He cuts himself off, not sure if it’s fine to say that he is still into you in the situation you found yourself in. “Y/N, I didn’t want to hurt you. This… It’s not how I planned it. I’m sorry.”

You want to stay mad. You want to stand your ground and unleash all your rage at him, but… you can’t. He might have been bullshitting you about why he stood you up, but he truly seems like he feels bad. 

And he really looks way too good.

“Alright. Apology accepted.”

He looks visibly relieved, his shoulders ease and even a tiny smile appears on his lips.

“Thank you. Really. So… Do you want to have a drink now?” he chuckles, but the devilish smirk you flash at him scares him instantly.

“Oh, I said apology accepted. That doesn’t mean we’re fine and back at where we were.”

Before he could say anything or question what you said you walk away, leaving him in a blur. 

You only see him from afar a few times until the end of the barbeque, you catch him staring quite a few times as well and his looks reflect hunger, so you assume your looks definitely live up to his expectations after all. You miss when he leaves at the end, but you know it won’t be the last time you see each other. 

A plan is formed in your mind about how to teach him a lesson for standing you up. A little game, to be exact. 

Two days after the barbeque you have to meet your dad in his office and you definitely don’t want to miss the opportunity to mess with Harry. You go out of your way to change before heading to the office, wearing a tight, extra short black dress that will surely catch his attention.

With a stack of documents under your arm you stroll into the building as if you owned it. Well, for a while you were set to inherit the business, but when your father realized you’re more into art, he ditched his plans and started looking for his successor. You remember how nervous you were before sitting down with him and telling him you wouldn’t take over the company like he wanted you to. To your surprise, he took it well and you realized he just wants you to be happy, doing whatever your heart desires. 

As a side hustle, you still get involved in some part of the business, just to learn the basic ropes and gain skills you can use in other fields as well, so every once in a while you can be found in the office. Today is one of those days.

The girls behind the front desk smile at you warmly and let you pass by, heading straight up to your dad’s office on the top. Standing in the elevator you check your outfit, making sure it’s not too revealing, but will do the purpose you wore it for. It doesn’t look like you’re going clubbing, but the amount of leg you’re showing will definitely earn you Harry’s attention, just how you planned.

It’s like fate is playing on your side, when you’re approaching the office you spot Harry in there with your dad, a devilish smirk tugging on your lips as you finally reach the glass door, knocking on it gently. They both lift their head up, but the expressions they make are very different. 

While your dad seems happy to see you, gesturing for you to come in, Harry on the other hand seems… shocked to say the least. Most likely not because he is seeing you, but because of how you look. You catch his gaze wandering down your legs right away, his chest rising with a deep breath as you walk inside.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt. I brought the documents you asked for.”

“You’re not interrupting anything, come in!” your dad waves around, rounding his desk to greet you with two kisses on your cheeks.

“Hi Harry, it’s so nice to see you again,” you smile at him charmingly, angling yourself so your legs are perfectly in his view. 

“It’s uh, it’s nice to see you as well, Y/N.” 

The blush on his cheeks is proof that your plan worked pretty well. While chatting with your dad, you keep an eye on Harry and see him practically devouring you with his eyes, his jaw clenches every time you move your weight to one leg and pop your hip out to the side. It’s safe to say he is a fan of your outfit.

“Alright, I better get going,” you sigh and start to pack your stuff when you drop your pen on purpose. The plan was to lean down and tease him even more, but he jumps to your rescue instantly, picking it up for you, but it gets his face to the same level as your thighs and he straightens up faster than the speed of light.

“Here,” he hands you the pen, obviously avoiding looking at you. This is probably the most fun you’ve had in a long time.

“Thank you,” you smile at him, making sure to brush your fingers against his hand as you take the pen from him. “Have a nice day.”

And with that, you stroll out of the office. 

Y/N one, Harry zero.

You don’t give him much time to recover from your appearance at the office. A few days later, on Friday, you decide to take advantage of your dad’s pool, which is one of the reasons you spend so much time at his. 

And of course because you love him. 

Today however, you have a different reason to parade in his backyard in the tiniest bikini you own. 

Your dad’s office has floor to ceiling windows watching over the glistening pool. Most of the time you try to avoid having a pool day when you know your dad is working from home, but Harry is here today, so that changes everything. 

You saw him arrive a few hours ago from your room’s window and they are still working, so when you’re done with your own business calls you decide it’s time to go for a swim. The neon pink bikini you chose was worn last time in Miami on spring break when you were still in college, a wild weekend you’ll never forget, but you’ve changed since then and it’s not really your style, but it will serve the purpose the best. To help your success you ‘ve also covered your body in tanning oil, making you glisten in the sun.

Putting on your sunglasses you grab a towel and tanning oil and head outside. 

It’s hot outside and you’re already planning to lie in the sun after a swim, the water glistening on your body. Putting on your best poker face you finally walk out and approach the pool. You know this place like the back of your hand, so you know exactly when you come into view from the office. Squaring your shoulders you keep your head high and walk up to one of the sunbeds, dropping your stuff down before striking a not too obvious pose as you put your hair up. Angling yourself just right, you catch a glimpse of what’s going inside and you need everything in you not to start grinning when you spot Harry not far from the window, staring at you like he is about to burst. Your dad is somewhere in the back on the phone, oblivious to the scene that’s happening so close to him. 

The second act starts when you grab the tanning oil and start applying it, rubbing it into your skin, making a show out of it. Oh, how you wish you could see Harry’s face up close, but you have a good guess what’s happening in his mind and it’s very pleasing.

First, you lie down to tan some, normally you cover your head with a towel because of the heat and not care about how you look, but this time you try your best to look as if you just jumped out of a Sports Illustrated catalog. 

Not long later it’s time to jump in the pool. You swim a few laps before emerging from the cold water and returning to your sunbed, all while imagining what could Harry be thinking right now. 

You’re still chilling in the sun when you hear the sliding door open and spot your dad walking out. For a moment you freeze, afraid he might tell you off for using the pool when he is working with someone in his office, but he seems delighted.

“Hey, I have to head out for a quick meeting, I’ll pick up lunch on my way home, want me to grab you something?”

“That would be great, thank you,” you smile at him peeking over the rim of your sunglasses.

“Harry is here, so don’t be surprised if you run into him. He’ll probably stay in the office.”

“Alright.”

With that he turns around and disappears in the garage. You hear the engine start and then he drives away, leaving you and Harry as the only people in the house. Not to make it obvious, you turn to look inside the office, but you’re surprised to see that Harry is not there anymore. Has he left the house as well? Did your plan not work after all?

It’s starting to get too hot outside and you didn’t bring anything to drink so you decide to give up and go inside. Heading into the kitchen all you can think about is a glass of cold lemonade.

Rummaging through the fridge you grab the bowl of fruit salad you made yesterday and brought over and as you’re balancing everything in your hands and pushing the fridge’s door closed with your hips, it scares you when you see Harry standing behind you by the kitchen island.

“Jesus, are you a fucking ninja? I didn’t hear you.”

Walking closer you set everything down to the island and pretend like your pulse is not over the roof. Not just because of the scare, but because he looks incredibly good. FItted pants and simple white shirt, the top few buttons are undone, showing a glimpse of his chest, the sleeves are rolled up, allowing you to check out his tattoos as well. God, if you weren’t trying to teach him a lesson you would be all over him already.

It makes you feel better though that he is definitely checking you out as well. He is not trying to mask it too much, his eyes keep wandering down your body that’s still only covered at the most crucial parts by your tiny swimwear.

“Having a day off?” he leisurely asks, hiding his hands in his pockets as he leans against the island next to you.

“Nope, my work is pretty flexible. I’m mostly my own boss.”

You see him nod from the corner of your eyes as you dig into the fruit salad, trying to act casual and ignore the fact that you’re in a hot pink bikini while he is dressed for work. 

“So how long are we going to play this?” he then asks out of the blue. 

You know exactly what he is talking about, but you won’t give in that easily. With your hands on your hips you turn to face him with an innocent look on your face and you don’t miss how his eyes snap down to your chest, then to your lips before they move back to your eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A tiny little smile tugs on the corner of his lips as he looks away, out to the terrace where the pool’s glistening surface is probably reminding him of the show you gave him not long ago.

“Is this supposed to be punishment?”

“Did you do something you deserve punishment for?” you tilt your head to the side. 

He opens his mouth to reply, but then decides against it, just stares back at you and you wish you could read his mind. He pushes himself away from the island and starts to walk away, you take it as your wind or this round, so you turn back to your snack, but then suddenly he moves back and cages you between his arms, his hands gripping the counter on either side of you. He is behind you now, not even touching you anywhere, but still, it’s as if he was everywhere on your body. Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear his low voice in your ear.

“If you want to play, I’m happy to play along. But be careful, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

This should be the perfect moment for a clever remark, but your mind is so fogged up you can’t articulate one solid thought. He moves back and you feel his presence disappear from behind you before you see him walking back towards the office, but before he could disappear he shoots one last comment at you.

“Pink looks good on you!”

He did not joke when he said he would play along.

So far, only you’ve been playing this game, but since your little pool side performance, Harry has definitely turned it up on his side as well. 

He has been pretty subtle so far. The bastard has noticed that his tattoos make you droop, that you love to check out his backside whenever he is wearing fitted pants and those smirks… they make you weak in the knees every damn time. And he takes every opportunity to use these against you whenever you run into each other. 

You’ve been dropping by your dad’s office a lot more often than usually in hopes of seeing Harry and he’s been a frequent guest at your dad’s house as well. Stolen looks, tiny touches and never ending teasing have become your usual lately and you’ve been enjoying it way too much probably. 

It’s been pretty long since you had a crush and it’s an exciting change to have this little thing going on with Harry, whatever it really is. 

The major change is that you’ve started to text again. A few days after your encounter in your dad’s kitchen the flow started again and you’ve been talking ever since. It’s like before the failed date. 

Two weeks pass by and you realize it’s been only small little games, nothing extreme since your show at the pool. You’ve been trying to come up with a move that will leave him defeated and a shopping spree with Dani is what gives you the idea. 

She always makes you go lingerie shopping, she likes to surprise her boyfriend with new sets and while looking around you find one that catches your eyes and you end up buying it with the pure intention of making it part of your game. 

You’ve never been that big of a fan of fancy lingerie sets, but you do know it’s what you need to spice the game up. 

When you’re finally home you put on the quite revealing black set, fix your hair and even look up what poses are the best if you want to send racy pictures to your partner. Well, Harry is not your romantic partner, but definitely your partner in this game. 

You take quite a few pictures, some in the mirror, some with a timer, your camera roll turns into the newest issue of PlayBoy and it takes even more time for you to choose just one. When you finally settle on one it’s time for the fun part. Opening up the text threat with Harry, you send the photo and a few moments later a text.

Y/N: Sorry, meant to send it to someone else.

And then you just wait. 

For an hour your message stays unread, but then the status changes and your heart jumps into your throat. He saw the message eleven minutes ago, but there’s no response and it sends you down the rabbit hole.

Did your plan work? Is he fighting a major hard-on at the office? Or does he think your attempt to seduce him was ridiculous? Is he gonna lecture you about sending nudes? Why is he not responding???

Minutes turn into an hour and you’re losing hair at this point, regretting you even thought about sending him a spicy picture and you’re about to block his number, getting yourself ready to never see him again when your phone finally chimes with a message and Harry’s name appears in the notification.

HARRY: No. Shit like this can only be meant for me. I’m serious.

You gasp. Almost moan reading his words. And suddenly you forget about the madness you went through in the past hour. It was worth it, it was all worth it because this one message has lit you on fire. 

His message stunned you so much you didn’t even reply. What could be said after that? 

Got it, sir.

Or maybe…

Don’t tell me what to do.

Oh yeah, that would have really messed with him, but you chose silence and he didn’t double text you either. It stopped the flow of regular messages too and in the next three days you realize how much you miss him when you’re not talking. 

You’re falling for him and you hate that beside the little games, he is not taking the step you want him to. 

A few days after the picture was sent an old friend of yours comes to visit his family in the city and the two of you agree to catch up over dinner. Salim was your study buddy through college, he was always up to spend the entire day in the library whenever you had a theoretical exam to take. Art school wasn’t just painting and creating all the time, unfortunately. After graduation he moved to France with his boyfriend and has been living there for the past years, but he often comes home to visit his loved ones and he always makes time for you as well. You’ve been keeping in touch, but not as regularly as you used to and it’s great to talk when you’re not only in the same time zone but also in the same room. 

“Look at you! You’re glowing!” he greets you when you get out of the Uber and he wraps you in a tight hug. 

“Not as much as you! I see Claude is taking good care of you!” you chuckle, squeezing him back before letting go of each other. He looks stylish as always and you notice he’s starting to dress more and more like Claude, whose style is excellent, by the way. They fit each other really well.

You walk into the restaurant, it’s one of your favorite places and the host shows you your table. You order appetizers and drinks and dig into everything you haven’t discussed over the phone in the past couple of months. 

“Now, tell me about that Tinder guy you last mentioned,” Salim smirks at you over the table and you realize you never told him the whole story, just that you were going on a date with Harry. 

A lot has happened since then.

You update him about the failed date and the meeting at the barbeque and how you’ve been messing with each other since then. 

“You did what?” He almost chokes on his wine.

“I sent him a nude picture,” you repeat yourself with a coy smile. 

“You’re really brave, I would have never had the balls,” he snorts. 

“I needed to step my game up. But we’ve been stuck since then.”

“He’s too busy jerking off to your photo,” he chuckles.

“No,” you smile. “Maybe he is… here.”

Your eyes grow wide when you spot the all too familiar form of Harry by the bar and he is staring at you with a bewildered look that does things to you that you can’t exactly explain. 

“What?” Salim’s face forms a confused frown. 

“He is… literally here. At the bar and don’t turn around, but he is looking straight at us.”

Your body is reacting as if you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to, but nothing like that is happening, so you’re not sure why your reaction is so intense. Luckily, discretion is no problem for Salim, so he turns to see Harry in a way that’s not too obvious. When he looks back at you his eyes are just as wide as yours.

“Holy shit, he really is hot!”

“I know!” you whisper, not sure what to do, because Harry is still very much staring at you. “Fuck, should I say hi?”

“No, let him come to you if he wants to!”

Nodding, you try your best to focus on the food and your friend in front of you, but it’s almost impossible when you can clearly see Harry over Salim’s shoulder. Either he keeps staring at you or you always catch him looking, doesn’t matter, because it makes your stomach drop every time your gaze meets his. 

Then your phone lights up with a text from him.

HARRY: I hope it’s not a date.

“Oh my God, he thinks we are on a date,” you whisper to Salim upon reading the text while keeping your face as straight as humanly possible. 

“Is he jealous?”

“Most likely,” you nod, typing your response.

Y/N: And what if it is?

His reply comes before you could even lock the phone.

HARRY: It better not be.

Y/N: So bossy. Unfortunately, you have no right to hold me back from dating.

“I think I stood my ground, but I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

Placing the phone back to the table with screen down you’re determined to focus on Salim from now on, but it’s just impossible to move on from those texts. At some point however, Harry disappears from your view and you fight the urge to check your phone to see if he had any response.

While Salim is trying to decide if he wants some dessert or just another cocktail you excuse yourself to the restroom. It’s definitely been an emotional rollercoaster, not just your usual friendly catch-up, you’ll surely be thinking about it for a while. 

Just as you’re about to close the door behind you a foot sticks in and stops you and then everything happens so fast.

The door is forced open and you gasp as you take a step back and watch Harry walk in, close the door behind him and lock it as well. His eyes are burning as he looks at you and you’re just a speechless ragdoll as he pushes you against the cold, tiled wall, caging you between his arms, his hips pressing against yours.

“Who is he?” he hisses at you, his pupils dilated and wild and you’ve never seen him from this close, you’re basically breathing the same air.

“He’s…” You can’t speak or form any words, the air is pushed out of your lungs every time you try to fill them enough to give you the strength to speak up. Fuck, you’ve never seen him like this, but it’s making your pussy throb for sure.

“Answer me or I’ll go out and make a scene to find out.”

“He’s just a friend,” you manage to breathe out. 

“Are you fucking him?”

“No.” You want to tell him that you couldn’t even if you wanted to, because Salim would be more interested in fucking him than you, but the words die on your tongue when he exhales sharply at your answer.

“Fuck your little games, Y/N,” he then says, almost growls as he shakes his head in defeat. 

“Fuck me instead,” you hear yourself saying, but it’s as if it wasn’t you who spoke, yet you still said exactly what you had in your mind. 

HIs eyes are throwing flames again when one of his hands moves to the side of your neck, his thumb moving under your chin to tilt your head upwards, angling your head, but still just teasing you.

“No more games.”

“No,” you shake your head desperately. Your hands have found their way to his waist and you fist his shirt, fighting the urge to rip it off him.

“I mean it, Y/N. It’s all in or nothing. I want you to be mine.”

“I’m already yours.”

His kiss comes so fast your head goes dizzy for a second before you recover and return it just as eagerly as it came. It’s been the longest foreplay, weeks worth of teasing and yearning after each other end now as Harry’s body presses you against the wall with so much force it’s almost too much, but you want him as close as possible. 

Even though you’re certain you’ve lost your mind, your consciousness still knows you’re in a public bathroom and you have limited time. Harry knows too and he wastes no time moving you over to the counter, he hoists you up and sits you on top of the granite next to the sink. You gladly wrap your legs around his waist and lock him against you while his mouth is now exploring the curve of your neck and shoulders, desperately pushing the straps of your dress to the side to reach more of your skin. Your body is reacting instantly to him, your hips roll against him and you feel his bulge between your legs, a tortured moan slipping out of your mouth. 

“Harry!” you beg him, when his hand slips under your dress and into your underwear, his skilled fingers teasing you just right, but you need him fast and hard, this is not the time and place to play games.

“I wish I could take my time with you,” he grunts before playfully biting the soft skin on your neck while unbuckling his belt. “But I’m gonna fuck you fast and you’ll take it like the good little slut you are.”

All you can do is whine and force your legs further apart, watching him push his pants and underwear down in one motion, his cock springing free, ready to ruin you. Harry pushes your dress up your torso and hooks a finger into your panties, pushing the fabric to the side to reveal your drenched pussy. 

“Have you thought about me while touching yourself?” he asks, his other hand going to his cock, lazily tugging on it, precum dripping from the tip.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He jerks on his cock a few more times before spitting on it and pushing inside you without warning. A scream dies in your throat, because you bite into your own hand not to make too much noise, but he is definitely bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, his erection is filling you up, stretching you like nothing and no one before.

“Don’t whine, I know you can take it,” he pants, his eyes rapidly switching between your face and his cock buried balls deep inside you. 

All you can do is nod before he starts moving. He gives you a few slow thrusts to adjust, but then he picks his pace up and starts slamming into you ruthlessly.

And you love every moment of it.

It’s so animalistic, so intoxicating, your head feels dizzy again and you need everything inside you not to start screaming his name. Normally you need more stimulation and time to feel your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach, but it’s different with Harry. You can already feel your climax nearing.

“So fucking good, you take me so well,” he preaches you, his hands holding onto your thighs to keep you in place and you curl an arm around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss.

“I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you in that bar.”

His words reach your brain and you process what he said, but you can’t reply at that moment, because you’re already on the verge of your orgasm.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach your climax, he is the first one but you chase after him just seconds later. It lasts long and he keeps thrusting into you even when it’s dying down. His face is buried in your neck when he finally stops and you both are panting heavily.

When he lifts his head he’s looking at you with hazy eyes, but the smile that tugs on the corners of his lips is something you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

“You said you wanted to fuck me the moment you saw me at the bar,” you repeat his words from earlier now that you can actually form words. Judging from the look on his face he knows why you’re questioning him.

You never met at the bar, he stood you up that night.

“I went there,” he admits. “I saw that other guy flirting with you and… I didn’t think I stood a chance with you. So I left.”

You’re staring back at him in disbelief. All this time you thought he didn’t come because you weren’t good enough for him, but it was the opposite. He was there. He came and wanted to meet you, but lost his confidence because of that random guy.

“You’re the only person who ever stood a chance with me,” you softly say as you reach up to take his face in your hands.

“I thought I was too old for you.”

“But I knew you were older all along,” you chuckle. “It was never an issue for me.”

“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.” He kisses you softly and it’s mind-blowing how he was fucking you hard just moments ago and now he is treating you so gently.

“I need to go back, Salim will get suspicious,” you sigh as you slip off the counter, trying to fix yourself.

“Oh, your date is waiting for you,” he teases you, pulling his pants back up.

“He is gay, Harry,” you chuckle and watch his expression change.

“Okay, I approve.”

You laugh and pull him down for another kiss.

“Should we talk about this after?”

“I can come over when you get home.”

“I’m afraid we won’t do much talking if you do that,” you grin at him, arching an eyebrow.

“Promise, I’ll be a gentleman for at least thirty minutes. That should be enough for all the talking.”

“Uhuh, alright. See you at mine then,” you nod before slipping out of the bathroom.

The plates are empty, dinner is now officially nearing its end but you still haven’t broken the news to your dad. 

The news that you and Harry are together.

He is sitting across from you at the table, his hesitant eyes finding your gaze every other minute. He is shitting his pants, you know that, even though you told him your dad will probably take it well. He is not one to stress about such things, but Harry didn’t believe you, he thinks he’ll throw him out of the company and tell you to never see him again.

Absurd. 

Clearing your throat you decide it’s time for the announcement.

“Dad, I want to tell you something,” you speak up and panic flashes through Harry’s face for a moment, but he’s quick to mask it. 

“Alright, I’m listening,” he smiles at you.

“Okay, I’ll just… Um, I want you to know that I’ve been dating someone. It’s kind of… serious,” you add, your eyes finding Harry over the table and you don’t miss the blush on his cheeks. 

“That’s amazing! Do I know this person?” your dad enthuses.

“Well, you know him very well. He is actually sitting here at the table.”

You watch as realization washes over his face, he looks over at Harry and then back at you, while you both wait for his reaction.

Then a tiny smile appears on his face and you know you were right, there was nothing to worry about.

“That’s great news, I’m happy for you.”

Harry exhales in relief and you can’t help but laugh.

“See? I told you,” you smirk at him with a shrug.

“Are you sure you’re alright with it?” Harry asks, still a bit doubtful, but your dad just smiles at him warmly. 

“I’m more than sure, son. Why would I not be alright with it? I trust you with my company, I trust you with my daughter too. Easy as it is.”

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