#title of next strip: naked rage

[softgrungeprophet]

me when peter parker is reduced to sheer unbridled rage:

[saintshigaraki]

THESE ARE HARD TIMES FOR DREAMERS

title from bones by ms mr

pairing: yandere nanami kento x f!reader

word count: 2.6k

excerpt: You wish you’d studied the stars more, ingrained them so deeply into your psyche that you’d carry the night sky with you, always. 

You wish they’d never been stolen from you in the first place.

a/n: nanami if ur reading this i’m free thursday night. 

tags: yandere, angst, reader is once again full of rage, nanami love what have you done, overuse of the word hate

warnings: yandere tendencies, obsessive and possessive behavior, slight infantilization, noncon/dubcon, gaslighting (?), kidnapping, slight stockholm syndrome, mention of past suicide attempt 

MDNI!

You can’t exactly pinpoint where it all went south. There’s not a specific date that stands out to you when you actively noticed things taking a turn for the worst. It’s like that fable. About the frog slowly being boiled alive. Except, in this case, the frog is you and the boiling water is Nanami. And in this case, this is not some story your mom used to read to you about the dangers of gradual escalation, it’s your life. If you can even call this monotonous hell you’re living a life. 

You’ve got to hand it to him, you really didn’t see it coming. Nanami’s always been smart like that. Even now, after everything, or maybe even especially now, after everything, you can’t deny that. 

You don’t bother moving from where you lay, sprawled out on the floor, when you hear the first click of many locks signaling that your sweet and doting lover has returned. 

You used to try to rush him, or get the jump on him with the heaviest thing you could find. Once you started to get really desperate, you just screamed over his shoulder before he had time to clamp a large hand over your mouth. 

None of it ever worked, of course. 

It was months ago that you decided hopeless escape attempts simply weren’t worth Nanami’s wrath. He’s faster than you, stronger than you, and far bigger. And he always will be. 

When your relationship with Nanami was still somewhat normal (though looking back you can’t help but notice all the things that weren’t normal, you suppose hindsight really can be quite the bitch in that regard) you never really thought too hard about how much stronger he was compared to you. In some ways, it might’ve even been comforting, instead of just horribly depressing. No one could touch you when your hand was tucked in his. 

It hurts more than you’d like to admit that something you once found such solace in, is now what stands between you and any semblance of normalcy and shred of happiness. 

(And fresh air. God, you miss fresh air so much it hurts, a dull never-ceasing ache deep in your chest. You miss the stars too. Sometimes, when you’re laying on the floor like you are now or in the dead of night when it’s all you can do to swallow down your screams, you try to map out constellations on the ceiling. You’re not very good at it though, and the few constellations you actually remember are starting to slip from your memory like water through fingers, no matter how desperately you try to hold onto them.

You wish you’d studied the stars more, ingrained them so deeply into your psyche that you’d carry the night sky with you, always. 

You wish they’d never been stolen from you in the first place.)

It takes Nanami’s slightly disapproving hum to snap you out of your celestial spiraling. 

You tilt your head back, just enough to find he’s towering over you. His mouth set in a grim line. His glasses, jacket, and tie have already been discarded, his shirt rolled up to his forearms. The sight of him like this use to make your cheeks burn. Now, it’s hard to rein in the urge to spit at his feet and hiss out every seething thought you have about him burning below the surface. 

But the lecture you’d receive after a ‘tantrum’ like that wouldn’t be worth it. He always manages to twist your words, your own feelings, sometimes even your very sense of self, until you can hardly tell what’s up and what’s down. Until you can hardly distinguish your reality from his. Until all you can hear is Nanami’s voice in your ear, reminding you of everything you’ll never be. Of just how helpless you are. 

(It’s like his hands are around your throat, choking and choking and choking.)

And once you’re nothing but a sobbing heap on the floor, he’ll pull you into his lap, tuck your face against the curve of his shoulder, and rub soothing circles into your back while saying something along the lines of ‘It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll always be here take care of you’ until your sobs have quieted to the occasional hiccup.

You hate it, how he manages to make you feel so dependent on him. He’s so, so good at knowing just what string to pull so that you’ll unravel completely, just so he can put you back together again with his painstakingly gentle hands. 

Nanami’s smart like that. 

So, you’ve learned to bite your tongue. 

“You’re insistence on laying on the dirty floor when we have a perfectly good couch and bed truly astounds me,” he says, monotone. 

You don’t justify his sarcasm with a response, partly to stall what inevitably will come after this and partly to annoy him. Nanami doesn’t like it when you ignore him. It’s one of the few things you have the power to do that manages to get under his skin. 

It’s these little rebellions, you’ve found, that make all the difference. 

You eye the couch warily, it’s plush and huge. The perfect place for an afternoon nap. Nanami had traded out the smaller one he’d had before, for this one, a few months after you’d started dating. He’d wanted one big enough that you two could comfortably lay together as you slept and he read. You spent countless hours there, tucked into his side, with the setting sun warming your skin. 

It’s also where you had told him that you wanted to end things. That he’d gotten too overbearing, too controlling. That you felt suffocated. That you still loved him dearly, but that you couldn’t do this anymore. It’s where you left him as you walked out with only a single bag in hand. 

That night you went to sleep in some shady motel room and woke up back in Nanami’s bed with a padded handcuff chaining you to the frame. 

These memories from before have a way of coming back to haunt you, they pass through the walls, whispering poison in your ears, caressing your skin one moment just to dig their claws in deep the next. 

They mock you as you sit and rot and dream of stars you’ll never see again. 

“You’re stalling.” He always manages to sound so distinctly unimpressed with you whenever you don’t follow one of his unwritten rules (and God even if you were actively trying to follow them, there are so many that keeping track of them is nothing short of an impossible feat).

You finally get to your feet, wringing your hands in a way that you know makes you look weak and pathetic. Just the way Nanami likes you so that he can swoop in and take such good care of his little darling love. 

“Kento, I-” 

“Save it,” he says, already walking towards the bedroom. 

You could put up a fight, but all that’d do is make him angry, and then you’d have to do what he wanted anyway and deal with being tethered back to the bed for a few days while Nanami fusses over you like some sort of deranged mother hen.

You make your way over to the bedroom, already starting to strip, ready to get this over with as soon as possible. 

You’re half-naked by the time you enter his room. 

Even after months and months of this, the humiliation of standing nearly naked in front of him while he stays fully dressed never dulls, it’s still just as sharp and awful as the first time he made you do it. 

(It’s like you’re peeling back your own skin, defenseless as he rubs salt in the wound.) 

You suppose you should feel lucky that he lets you keep on your bra and underwear. Not that the undergarments he bought you really cover all that much, but in these four walls, beggars can’t exactly be choosers. 

He takes off his watch, setting it carefully onto his dresser before walking over to you and starting his nightly inspection for any cuts or bruises you may have received (or given yourself) throughout the day while he was off at work. Off in the world you’ll never see again. Just the thought is enough to make you want to scream. 

You used to be able to wiggle your way out of this, before the incident, as Nanami has dubbed it, but now it’d be a cold day in hell before he doesn’t painstakingly go over (almost) every inch of your skin with a careful eye and calloused hands. 

His thumb always brushes terribly gently over the scar a few centimeters to the right of one of your jugular veins, where you had attempted to slit your throat after you realized that you would probably never escape this place. Never escape him. 

You’d never seen Nanami as scared as when he walked in on you holding a knife to your throat. And you’d never seen him as angry as after he’d wrenched it from your hand using a type of speed that shouldn’t even be humanly possible. 

He took a full month off work after that which coincidently also happened to be the worst fucking month of your life. 

He cups your face in his large hand and presses a kiss to your temple. A sign that he’s deemed you just as pristine as when he left you and that he’s very pleased by it. 

You want to bite his hand. You want to rip his flesh from the bone. You want to hold his heart in your hand and crush it. 

(You want to go home. You want to feel the earth beneath your bare feet. You want to sit on a roof in your childhood neighborhood and watch the sun dip below the horizon and drown the world in golden light. You want to step out on an autumn day with winter just around the corner and smell the crispness in the air, feel it claw its way into your lungs. 

You want to remember what it’s like to be human.)

Nanami’s lips are on yours before you can think, soft and enticing. You could push him away or just say no. He’d listen. Not even he can apparently justifying forcing you. 

(We all have our limits, don’t we?)

But you don’t. You haven’t in a long while. And you hate yourself for it more than you could ever hate him.

He loses his shirt rather quickly and you manage to discard your bra before he lifts you up and tosses you on the bed. You don’t get a second to breathe before he’s over you, monstrous and awful and so terribly beautiful. 

He takes a moment to caress your face, his knuckles brushing over your cheek so tenderly that it nearly makes you sick. You’re thankful when he finally says, “Open up.” 

You do as he says and in the next second two of his fingers are stuffed into your waiting mouth. 

“Suck.” 

And you do, without hesitation, because you know what’s coming next. You know that for the next hour or so, there’ll be no denying the fact that you’re alive, that you’re not some ghost haunting these halls. It’ll prove that it’s blood that flows through your veins instead of stone, that you have not yet started to rot in your own skin. 

He he pulls his fingers from your mouth without a word and leaves a trail of burning kisses down your sternum and stomach. He wastes no time pulling your underwear off and attaching his calloused thumb to your clit, rubbing tight little circles in a way that has you keening almost immediately. 

In an embarrassingly short amount of time you’re wet enough for him to comfortably slip a finger in. Just one of them reaches spots you never quite manage to hit on your own, and you hate how much you love it. It has you moaning, nearly loud enough to drown out the lewd squelching by the time he adds a second finger. 

“You’re so, so good for me,” he murmurs, voice rough. It sends a shiver down your spine.

You hate that the praise has you clenching his fingers in a near vice grip. You hate that he still affects you in any way after what he’s done to you. After what he’s reduced you to. 

You don’t have time to stew in your self-loathing before his fingers find that spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. 

(And this is the reason you don’t push him away. 

You’ll never step foot under the night sky again. But here, with his fingers hitting all the right spots in your cunt, you’ll make your own galaxy and pretend that it holds a candle to the real thing.)

With the pace he sets, his constant low grunts of just how lovely you are creaming around his fingers, and the way his thumb never lets up on your puffy clit, you’re coming within minutes, you spasm around his digits so hard that the stars you so love burst behind your tightly shut eyelids. 

He eases his fingers out of you and licks them clean, his dark eyes half-lidded and nearly glowing in the dimly lit bedroom, burning straight through you. 

You’re the one to look away first. You always are. Shame settling heavily in your gut. Shame that you enjoyed it, shame that you didn’t push him, shame that you’ll do this all over again tomorrow.  

When he finally sinks into you, he does it slowly. Sometimes you wish he wouldn’t, sometimes you wish he’d make it hurt. It’d be easier to hate him instead of yourself if he did. 

When Kento fucks you like this, chest to chest, there’s not a single part of you not swallowed whole by him. 

You hate it. 

You hate yourself more for moaning when he changes the angle and starts fucking you so hard and fast that your hands can’t help but scramble for anything to hang on to, they tear down his back, drawing blood which seems to only spur him on to go harder. 

“Kento I-- I’m-,” but you can’t finish the sentence, not when you can feel your orgasm teetering on the edge, so, so close that it’s painful, you just need- 

“You want to come?” He asks, his voice annoyingly steady.  

It’s unfair of him to expect you to be able to answer when he has you nearly folded in half. You can hardly even think. 

(But when has Kento ever really been fair?)

“Use your words, darling.” His lips are right against your ear, his tone unbearably condescending, and maybe a bit mocking. 

You hate him for asking you to beg. 

You hate yourself more for giving in. 

“Kento, please,” you whine. 

He laughs, low and mean, you feel it in your own chest and for a moment it really is as though you are nothing but an extension of him, a limb left useless without Nanami guiding you. You hate it. You hate it.

Eventually, he relents and brings his thumb back down to your clit, resuming those tight, firm circles, and that’s all you needed to finally push you over the edge.  

This time, when you come, there are no stars to comfort you. Just Kento’s eyes, bright and burning. 

Your cunt clamping down on his cock is all it takes for him to let out a low groan and still completely inside you, the warmth of his cum flooding your cunt is awful in it’s familiarity. 

His eyes finally close as he drops his forehead against yours, breathing your air and forcing you to breathe his. 

He closes the gap between your lips, gently, sweetly. You can almost pretend for a moment that this is the Kento you knew years ago. Who held you so sweetly and smiled when you smiled. 

You don’t realize you’re crying until he kisses your temple tenderly and wipes away your tears. He’s not worried, you cry more often than not after he fucks you. You don’t really want to think about why. 

You let your mind wander as he carries you bridal style to the bathroom, where in a minute he’ll run a warm bath for you two to share, then afterwards he’ll dry you off with the utmost tenderness, then dress you himself before carrying you to the kitchen where he’ll set you on the counter as he makes dinner (you won’t be allowed to help, of course) then he’ll force every last bite down your throat if you refuse to eat (he hasn’t had to do that in a long while though), then he’ll have you curl up on his lap, head tucked into his shoulder, as he reads. After about an hour he’ll bring you back to the bathroom where he’ll brush your teeth for you because you never do it right, and then he’ll drag you into bed no later than 10:30 PM so that you can do it all over again tomorrow. 

“Do you want the lavender or rose soap today?” Nanami asks you. 

You ignore him in favor of trying to remember the details of your galaxy, but it’s already faded away to nothing by the time you close your eyes. 

a/n pt 2: i feel like it was painfully obvious that this was my first attempt ever at smut. i’m so sorry yall. i really did try. 

[supernaturalgirl20]

The Spaniard & I

Part nine

Pairings: Pero Tovar x reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, fluff, angst, tricking husband during sex, angst.

Summary: you and Pero arrive at his Spanish home for your honeymoon.

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long lost inspiration but I’m on a roll. Have three chapters written so should be updating more regularly.

{Comments and reblogs really appreciated}

Arriving at Pero’s Spanish home, you are greeted by his house staff, who are overjoyed so see him. The welcome you as the new lady of the house with open arms and are very kind to you. Pero gives you a tour of the house before stripping you naked and having you writhing beneath him. Pero had arranged to have dinner outside that evening allowing you to enjoy the cool Spanish breeze.

“I am having tea with Maria tomorrow, I want to ask her a few things about running the house. She has done such a great job, I don’t think I could do better.”

“I am glad mi amor, Maria is very dear to me. She was like the mother I did no have.” When dinner was finished Pero took you again the dining room floor.

Maria had provided a beautiful lunch and you were both currently sitting on the deck sipping iced tea.

“I am surprised Pero let you out of his bed chambers. I would have thought he would keep you there until his seed to root.”

“What do mean?”

“Dear girl, did your mama no tell you have women bear children?”

“Eh…yea but it was so long ago, I have forgotten.”

“A man must lay with his wife emptying his seed inside her. If no she will no bear children.” A rage burned inside you at this information. As you sat sipping your tea, an idea struck you, you were going to test out Maria theory tonight.

As night came you entered your bed chamber to find Pero already stripping. You move to quickly remove your dress before walking towards him, pushing him on the bed.

“Mi amor, what are you doing?”

“I want to be on top tonight.” A devilish smirk splays across his face. “Hop on mi amor, have your way with me.”

You crawl up the bed towards him and straddle his waist. His hands take purchase on your hips as you slowly sink down onto him. His head falls back into the pillow as he moans loudly.

“Mierda.”

“Are you ok?”

“Si, keep going, do no stop.”

You move slowly, dragging out Pero’s pleasure. You can tell he is close and to distract him you lean down and kiss him passionately. He comes deep inside you. You move off of him and quickly put on a robe wrapping it around yourself.

“Y/N, what did you do.”

“You lied to me.”

“What? I did no lie.”

“You told me you couldn’t have children. Not that you didn’t want them. There’s a difference. I love you Pero I want to have a family with you, why won’t you give me a baby?”

“I swore on the late dukes death bed I would not sire and heir, that the title would die with me.”

“That is ridiculous Pero. You would sacrifices family for a grudge on a dead man.”

“You do no understand..”

“Oh I understand perfectly.”

“Where are you going?”

“To sleep somewhere else.”

The following days were filled with either awkward silences or harsh words. Sitting at dinner one evening a letter arrives from home. William is engaged to be married to Lin Mae. You stand and as Maria to help you pack. Pero stands abruptly from his seat, “where do you think you are going?”

“Oh so now you care? William is engaged to be married, I want to go home.”

“This is you home.”

“Is it. Anyway I’m going home to England to help him organise.”

“No without me your no.”

“So your coming too.”

“No.”

“Well I am.”

“What will William say when you arrive without your new husband?”

“I’m sure he will be livid, with you, for allowing your wife to travel alone.”

“You will let me know if your scheme worked and I am to be a father.”

You glare at him before storming off to your room. The following morning you set off without saying goodbye to Pero. Let him stew.

Previous/Next

Tagging:

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Pero Tovar: @a-skov @practicalghost

[babytaes]

Don’t Leave Me

➳ 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢:  Over the past two years, the apocalypse has been raging, food has become scarce, and security has weakened. Will you survive as a small town girl living in a small apartment with your college best friend?

❥ 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: hoshi x female reader

❥ 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: zombie apocalypse au, suggestive/smut, angst, fluff, 

❥ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 6k

❥ 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: Trigger Warning- Death and use of Gun. There are some smut scenes so if you are not comfortable please do not engage. Other than that enjoy.- BT

➳ part of the song series

↳ I used to be so happy

But without here I feel so low

I watched you as you left but I can never seem to let you go.

If you had told me that the world will end in a few days, I would have told you that you were insane and that you should stop believing in government-created conspiracy theories.

The looming fact that her life was now ended and her dream was broken would have made old me giggle and shake her head. So much for my desire to be a doctor.

You didn't grow up believing in a zombie apocalypse or the end of the world, so you weren't prepared for this. You would have preferred to go out in a more pleasant manner.

It was wonderful to have some company to keep you sane during the end of the world as we know it, despite the fact that you and Soonyoung had been imprisoned up in this miserable flat for so long.

Today was the day, the one-year anniversary of the beginning of it all. The date is June 17, 2023. You recall the event as if it were yesterday. A day that began unlike any other.

Today was just another day, with loud music booming through the closed doors as you both changed for the day. It was routine: get up, go to work, eat a meal, and return home. There wasn't a lot of variation in either of your days.

There were days when things were entertaining, but life was monotonous in general, and you both wanted something to liven things up!

“Heyyy can you please turn your music down just a smidge, I’m trying to do my eyeliner and it's making my hand shaky.” You laughed at Soonyoung's response as he shouted out to you from the other room.

“Oh, so they're not supposed to look bad,” says Soonyoung. Your basic talent has nothing to do with the music.”

Fluffing out your hair and setting down your makeup brushes you trudge over to his room and rapped on his door, arms crossed and mentally preparing for his cheeky comments.

He leaned against the door frame after opening the door and staring at your stiff physique. You gulped as you examined his toned physique; there was something about his physique that drove you insane.

“Keep your eyes up here, princess.” As you smirked at his movement, he titled your chin. Your brushed past him and landed on his unmade bed, pushing him to the side. He laughed as he closed the door and resumed his preparations.

“So, Mr. Bodybuilder, what's on your plan today?” He spun around in his chair, palms on his thighs, cocking his head, chuckling at your inquiry.

“Well, I have some new dance students to coach until noon, but after that, I'm free.” Jihoon, on the other hand, had requested a meeting to work on various projects.”

As you flung a thumb up, you shook your head, taking in what he had to say and mentally organizing it in your thoughts. You let out a long yawn as you stretched your sluggish body, unwilling to face the day.

Soonyoung coughed and looked at you with an open mouth.

“Since it's just ten o'clock, I had a plan before we took on the world. “Do you think you're up for it?”

As the air in the room became tense, you sat up on the palms of your hands and crossed your legs, watching his behavior.

“You know I'm up for anything,” As you scoot back on his bed, you wink at him. As he lingered over you, Soonyoung stood up from his chair, chuckling.

He kissed your collarbone and ran his fingers over it, absorbing up all the energy you were releasing.

“After I'm done with you, you might have to fix your eyeliner.” You flung your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you because you both knew you were going to wind up in this situation sooner or later.

“This is going to be a lot of fun.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” You retorted

As you hungrily stripped each other's clothes, you both started kissing each other, not splitting lips. His hands flew to your body to assist you in getting naked as quickly as possible. You sat up on your elbow, whimpering under his touch, undoing his belt.

Soonyoung was the sort to take his time when he was praising you, but as he pressed lips lightly on your core, you grew impatient. Thankfully, the time limit was short, so he set right to work, not wanting to waste this opportunity.

As your body jumped, he began to press kisses on your inner thighs while grabbing your breasts and rolling them.

You grumbled, “Fuck Soonyong,” as you pressed up against him, begging for more. As you peered up at him, his tongue touched your core, and he laughed.

“You're already a mess for me; look how drenched you are.”

He checked the dampness within by sticking his finger inside. You nudge him in the stomach as you hit his head, no longer whining.

“So help me, if you don't fuck me already. You're lucky I'm horny; else, I'd have taken care of myself by now.”

“Is my baby needy…?” As he thrashed two fingers in your wet folds, you whimpered as your body reacted nicely. As he pressed his digits deeper into you, your stomach began to erupt as your high drew near.

“Please, a-ah, f-faster.

“Patience, honey, I want you to cum on my dick.” As you felt empty, he pulled his fingers out, and you opened your eyes to find him yanking his underwear off and discarding it to the side.

You cry as he tempts your core before gently pressing into you and allowing you to adjust before proceeding.

Soonyoung grins as he angles himself to drive himself into you.

“Mmmhmm-ah Soonyoung, t-there!” As he repeatedly hits your g-spot, your back arches off the bed.

“Fuck, I can feel you tightening your grip on me. Darling, let me fill you up.”

“Yes, y-yes please.

As soon as he feels his climax coming on, Soonyoung fucks you faster. With a low sigh, he tightened his fingers around you. As he touched your area one time, he moaned out his name.

You gasped, desperately shouting out his name as your orgasm poured over you, forcing you to squirm as Soonyoung held you down and coated the insides of your body.

As you both fell back on the bed panting and relaxing your bodies, your name slipped from your lips. He kissed your forehead as you slowly turned over and let out a quiet groan once you had calmed yourself.

“Wow!”

“I know, speechless; it's one of my many skills.” Rolling off the bed and hurriedly picking up the stray clothing. Throwing his at him, you put on your underpants as you gathered the rest of your belongings and walked towards the door.

You turned back as you approached the door and winked at him before closing it.

He sighed, a broad grin creeping across his face.

“Oh the things I would do for her.”

---

Walking to work wasn't always so unpleasant, especially when you were accompanied by a talkative companion. It made the journey seem more annoying, enjoyable.

“Do you actually believe the government will do something like that? To their own citizens?’’

Hoshi scowled at you through his thick sunglasses as he went to take them off. He rolled his eyes and walked right up to you after opening the door in front of him.

“Unquestionably, the government is capable of anything. Nothing will be able to stop them from achieving their objective if they have one. All I'm saying is that we must exercise caution.”

“You and your irrational ideas. Stop watching Jerry Mason; he's simply fueling your fire.”

 When you arrived at your location, you came to a halt, clocking in and retrieving some files that had been left over from the night before. You sat down and exhaled deeply as you entered your temporary office.

“Do you think this is even worth it?” 

Soonyoung frowned and moved over to you, kneeling to get a better look at your troubled expression. He knew you'd be exhausted, and all he could do was be there for you.

It dawned on you when you were young that you wanted to be a pediatrician. It felt as if you were born to do this. You'd always adored children, seeing their faces light up when you offered them assistance or simply being there for them when they needed it. Despite the fact that you had just completed an eight-year school career, you still had three years left.

Regardless of what happened, you were going to make it.

“Hey, look at me.” As your eyes meet in the middle, he caresses your face.

“You got this; the long night of studying and grieving was for naught-" You smiled as you snickered at his remarks and allowed him to continue.

“This will be a breeze for you; the difficult portion has already been completed. All we have to do now is get through this summer together before moving on to the next level. Okay?”

As you rubbed his shoulders, he tenderly caressed your cheek and pulled you in for a forehead kiss.

“Thank you, Soo.”

As you jumped from your seat, you both heard a cough out of nowhere. As Soonyoung stood up and adjusted himself, you let out an uneasy laugh at your boss.

“I apologize if I interrupted anything, but we need to talk about the intern program with you.”

You coughed and tidied up as you walked to the door with him, shaking your head quickly. As you strolled down the corridor, trekking away to another room, you blew Soonyoung a kiss before leaving.

You noticed a man coughing on his approach towards you as you made your way to the rear room. He tripped towards you and grabbed your arm as he gathered his breath, his face showing symptoms of tiredness and worry.

“So-Sorry” He leapt to his feet and dashed out the rear entrance, out of the building and into his car.

You walked into the room, indifferent to his cries, and said, "No problem." While sitting next to the employers, you shook your head and took a long breath.

Many subjects were explored as the meeting progressed. One of the most crucial was when we would begin exercising our skills. Despite the fact that we still had schoolwork to complete, the boss had opted to get some exercise.

“It won't take long, but I want you to think about why you picked this profession. You understand why this is your calling and are free to write as much as you want about it. I'll be gracious and recommend that only one page be required. I'm excited for these papers, and it's a nice day today, so you may take the afternoon off.”

As everyone walked out of the room, loud whoops and hurrahs swept across the room, signaling that the weekend had arrived. As we were all leaving the room, you came to a halt and gazed out the building's window at a scene.

You saw a major shift in the man before you. As he smacked his head against the frame of his car, he twitched and screamed. You took a step forward, scrunching your brows and covering your mouth.

It all happened too quickly as the suddenly insane man leaped onto the nearest person and began biting them. You shuddered in terror as you hurried out of the room, falling back on your butt.

You yelled out to everyone, telling them about the man and his odd actions. Not only did you notice another woman twitching in the rear, but you also learned on the news that it was starting to happen all around.

*News* “Hello, this is NTC News, and we have just received word that unknown persons have been bitten and are biting others. Please don't stop for these people; we want everyone to get to safety as soon as possible. They are harmful to your health and can even kill you. We implore you once more to ge-”

As everyone gazed in horror, his voice was cut short. You yelled as you noticed a woman approaching the group after a man leapt on him and began biting him.”

“You guys heard him, runnnnn.”

You studied a puzzled Soonyoung as he waved to you, avoiding the crowd. You gently peered out the door, grabbing his hand and some items from your desk, and found it to be secure.

“What is going on, Y/N?”

“When we get home, I'll explain; we've been exposed here.”

As you ran down the corridor, panicked at the sight of the outside world, you took the emergency exit as you exited the back door. It was in shambles; they were swarming everywhere. Soonyoung kissed your hand and dashed through the horde, dodging stray onlookers.

It felt like you and he were in a movie, running and evading attacks and bleeding faces as they wiped out the people in front of you. You didn't know if you'd make it, but you clutched his hand as you rushed up the stairs to your apartment building.

As Soonyoung looked at you, you took your key and held it between your fingers.

“Are you ready for what we'll find when we get in here?”

Shaking your head, you hastily pecked his cheek before sprinting into the apartment complex and towards your room.

(Present Time, 2 years later )

Wasn't it supposed to be a typical day? In our town, nothing strange ever happens. Life had taken a different path and decided to run amok, and it didn't feel right to you or anybody else.

“Y/N, we have to leave; you're coming this time.”

“Yeah I’m coming” Soonyoung was strapping on his utility belt and grabbing his homemade weapon when you shot him a glare. “I know what you're thinking, and you're completely incorrect.”

He threw you the bat and also strapped you into your armor, shocked by your tone.

“We've been in this apartment for a long time, yet you still think I'm wrong. Hmm, it sounds amusing.”

Chuckling at his antics you quickly heard a voice on the other side as you both went silent. The sound of moaning and groaning never grew on you; hearing them reminded you of who they were before they transformed.

Where they are aspiring actors ready to take on the stage or innocent children on their way to school. It wasn't fair.

“This may be the most practical weapon, but it'll look pretty impressive if I can kill a zombie with it.” You giggle as you swing your bat in the air.

“I’m wondering how long I should leave you before I intervene and save your ass — again.” As he held the walkie up to his ear, Soonyoung heard a beep before tapping you.

“On the walkie, we got the all clear Y/N. It's time."

Shaking your head at him, you tightened your grip on the bat and went out the door gently, looking around to make sure no one was nearby. You and him did this on a regular basis when you were out scrounging around for anything. You know signs of life.

You and he discovered a group of survivors in your building as the outbreak was spreading for the past two years. It was a blessing to find individuals alive in this place attempting to survive; even though we only see them when we schedule weekly meetings, it's great to hear their voices every now and again.

“This is GoldenFox on level 6, and there are no zombies on this floor as far as we can detect. It is okay to proceed.”

After fully exiting the room, you placed a finger crossed kiss on the door frame. As you both made your way to the nearby stairwell, you turned around and observed his six.

To Survive a Zombie Apocalypse, Rule 21 is to Avoid Taking the Elevator. Stairs are your best friend.

Soonyoung crept over to the door, slightly cracked it open, and motioned you over after noticing no unusual activity. Shaking your head, you entered the stairwell straight behind him, pointing your bat in the direction of the vacant stairwell.

Slowly creeping up the stair the lights flickered on and off as you saw dried blood stains on the wall. You could never get over the fact that bodies were gruesomely taken as you approached the sixth floor entrance door.

When you walked out the door, you were greeted by a familiar sight.

“Hey guys, it's been a long time since we've seen one other.”

As he strolled alongside the girl, Soonyoung reached for your hand and gripped it tightly. She was escorting us to the survivors' debriefing meeting, or at least the ones who could make it.

“Hey Chae, how are you doing?” As a frightened expression washed across her face, you began to explain.

“Well, it hasn't been good; are supplies are rapidly depleting, and security is deteriorating. Tae-ho will elaborate, but things aren't looking good.”

You drew Soonyoung closer to you when you arrived at the correct door, pushed it open, and saw friendly faces.

“Ahh, here comes the couple; please take a seat; we have some business to discuss.”

You smiled and sat down next to Soonyoung, coughing softly before listening to Tae-ho's concerns.

“Because of a lack of hands and space, our inside and outside forces have been swiftly diminishing as the virus has become more prevalent in our area. We haven't been able to communicate with the military in a long time, and we're in serious trouble. Finally, I convened this meeting because we are in need of volunteers for a job tomorrow. We needed to connect our generator to the electricity grid, but it was out of juice.”

When you look around the troubled faces, you find that no one wants to look Tae-ho in the eyes, which is understandable. Isn't it normal not to endanger your life? Although, prior to all of this, you would have been ready to seize such an opportunity. Whatever it takes to help the community.

Soonyoung raises his hand after only a few seconds have passed. As he looks at you with his tiger-like gaze, you jerk to the right and broaden your eyes.

“What...no one else was willing to help.” Besides, instead of being locked up with you all day, it would be good to get out.”

As you rolled your eyes at him, you gave him a smack on the arm.

“Jerk,” you sneered, before slumping back in your chair and allowing Tae-ho to continue.

“Anyway, Soonyoung, Chan-woo, and Jong-ho have offered. Is there another volunteer who wants to join them?”

“Fine, I'll go,” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes and pursing your lips.

Low shouts of cheer rushed in the room as the teams were set for the trip tomorrow.

“Okay great, meetings adjourned. We go after the sun rises since the walkers get up early in the morning. So by ten o'clock, I'd like you to be packed and ready to travel. Soonyoung is the trip's leader, so pay attention to him.”

“Did you actually just call zombies ‘walkers'? God, you're having much too much fun.”

As he stood up, Tae-ho burst out laughing and ordered everyone to scram. Everyone in the room agreed and began filing out of the room, returning to their lowly abodes. You grabbed Soonyoung's hand and squeezed it strongly.

“Ow, what was that for?” 

“I don't know, I guess I just wanted to annoy you.” You rolled your eyes and smirked, your arms crossed in front of his face, pouting.

“Don't be like that, you know I was joking.”

Hiding his smirk he gazed at your eyes before kissing you all over.

“Stop,” you said, flailing your arms in an attempt to free yourself from his grasp. As he sighed, you completely surrendered and let him rest on you.

“Well, at the very least, we'll be going on a mission together tomorrow.” I was wondering whether you were planning on attending. But I'm glad you are.” He looked down at your lovely state.

You wrapped your arms over his neck and placed your hands on either side of his ears, narrowing the distance between you and him.

“Mmmh”

You were both shocked when Tae-ho coughed loudly, interrupting your conversation.

“How long have you been standing there?”

He laughed as he walked out the door, waving his hand in the air and said in a girlish tone.

“Oh, I love you, no, I love you,”  You both laughed as you flipped him off, then grabbed your bags and walked down the stairs to your apartment floor.

Soonyoung arrived safely at your door, opened it, and swiftly shut it while he stripped you and him of your clumsy armor.

“Is this a make-up for the earlier remark or...?” Soonyoung kissed you and dragged you closer to the bedroom, soon shutting you up with a kiss. 

Despite the horrible cries of walkers reminding you of what you were now living in, the night was young. When you glanced at Soonyoung, though, all of your worries and fears vanished because he made you feel safe no matter what was going on outside.

Soonyoung wrapped his arms around your waist and said quietly, “You're more lovely than anything else in this whole big universe.”

“Not more lovely than you, my baby,” you muttered as his handsome face drew you in closer.

Soonyoung chuckled and kissed your lips before resting his brow on yours and closed his eyes.

“I love you,” he said softly.

You grinned and pulled him in for a genuine kiss, saying, "I love you more than anything."

He nipped your bottom lip, eliciting a little whimper from you before sliding his tongue inside your mouth and kissing you hungrily, exploring every inch of you.

As a sticky pool formed between your legs, you could feel his hardening cock pressing against your thigh. You drew him upon you, already undressed, as he teasingly kissed your body.

You looked up at his toned figure, appreciating his abs as you ran your fingers on his solid stomach, your mouth watering because you knew this was just for your eyes. Soonyoung lifted your chin softly as you locked eyes.

“I'm not sure whether you're up for it, but I'm in the mood.”

“When are you ever not horny?” you asked, laughing. “I'm actually fairly hit, but I don't mind helping you feel good.”

The pupil of his eyes dilated. As you opened your eyes and looked up at him, he rapidly flipped you around.

“Oooh my favorite.”

Slowly, you slid onto his throbbing member and began to move; it was almost like muscle memory for your mouth as it went to work right away.

As tears began to collect at the corners of your eyes, you felt his palm on your hand, almost like clockwork, guiding you down.

“Yes, baby...right there,”  As his movement became jerky, he mewled. As you looked up at his trembling form, you chuckled.

Your name falls from his lips as his dick twitches in your mouth one last time before filling you up with his warm seed.

He drew you closer to him and kissed you for the twentieth time tonight when he cooled down.

“Ahh, I'll never get bored of that,” As he tenderly caressed your cheek, he complimented you.

“It is my area of expertise.”

As your eyelids began to drop, you both chuckled. You mumbled into his warm chest as you nestled closer to him.

“Goodnight, my love,” 

“Princess, good night.” He drew the blankets over your nude bodies, blew out the melting candles, and brought you closer to him, pressing one last kiss on your forehead. Allowing sleep to take control, the sound of his heartbeat and soft breath soothed you as you drifted off.

---

Thanks to the large windows, you were both awakened by the warm sun as it crept into the room, bringing the warmth and light needed for the day.

You snuggled closer to your love and crawled on top of him, sighing, as your tired eyes adjusted to the light.

“Hmm honey, we have to get up.” He began to get out of bed as you begged him not to leave you.

“5 more minutes,” you said as you drew his arm back and began kissing him on the arm and neck. He hauled you on his back, dropping you at the bathroom and making his way to the kitchen, smirking at your game.

“Get ready; I'm going to try to come up with something other than canned corn and rice.”

With a shake of your head, you took out the ladle and water bucket and began scooping up water for your shower. You quickly became accustomed to this way of life. You did miss your warm baths and your once-weekly takeout. At the very least, you had Soonyoung to help you get through it.

Stepping into the shower, you cleansed your body while singing a song; today would be a regular day. After a fast mission, the rest of the day would be laid-back, with nothing too serious on the agenda.

“LOVE GUESS WHAT I FOUND IN THE FREEZER, SOME FROZEN KIMCHI.” You giggled as you walked out of the bathroom in a towel, seeing how thrilled he was.

“I'm surprised it's still good; the freezer went out about two weeks ago.” He carefully set the chilly container down and pretended to choke while pinching his nose.

“At the very least, we got rice.”

“You can never go wrong with some fresh steamed rice.”

Before walking back to your shared room and locking the door to get dressed, you kissed Soonyoung on the cheek.

You pulled on some old sweatpants and a worn-out shirt and checked your appearance in the table stand's cracked mirror. You came to a halt as you looked around the once-bustling room, stunned at the extent to which an outbreak can devastate a space.

After giving it one last look, you stepped out the door, sat down at the table, and took a taste of the rice with a fork. Soon after, Soonyoung returned from the cabinet and sat down, smiling.

“I found some seaweed wraps stashed away. I mean, it's not that horrible; it should still taste fine after two years.”

Taking the package from his grip and swiftly opening it, you were greeted by the salty sea aroma as you both savored every last bite.

“Dig in!”

After devouring your meal you and he got prep and dress for your trek this morning. Making your rounds around the house one more time Soonyoung grabbed your hand and exited the apartment. 

“Well, the generator site is 3 miles from camp, and if we get there quickly enough, it will only last around 45 minutes. But that's just if we find another generator; it could take an hour or so.” As you looked around, you noticed your team's expressions as they tried to understand what Tae-ho was saying.

“Finally, the path you're travelling is a back road, which, while riskier than the street, provides more area to hide if walkers are noticed. I believe you can all do it; everyone will have walkie-talkies, so don't hesitate to call if anything goes wrong.”

Soonyoung grinned and shook his head as he counted his teammates and exited through the rear door. Before he left the building, Tae-ho grabbed him and handed him a pistol in case things went wrong.

“I know what's going to be out there, and I just wanted to let you know that if things go south, I won't hesitate to save you,” you said, thanking Tae-ho and pulling Soonyoung to the side. I know you're thinking the same thing, but these folks rely on you and your abilities, and I don't want to be in the way if something goes wrong."

“Don't even say that Y/N we're going to make it back safely all in one piece everyone of us,” he said as he pulled you in for a hug and lifted your face to stare at him.

“If you say so but still-”

“Shh, let's just concentrate on our mission and be ready, okay?” 

As you gathered the rest of the squad for a group huddle, you rested your hands on each other and said a quick prayer before shouting, "Let's go!" Tae-ho waved goodbye to you before closing the door behind you.

There was no going back now; it was now or never.

To ensure that everyone was safe, everyone had their backs covered just in case we were ambushed. You ran following Soonyoung, heavily gasping, as he dodged in and out of the automobiles and debris strewn everywhere. As we neared a small group of walkers, he came to a complete stop and raised his hand, motioning for us to move to the left.

These walkers were not your typical zombies; they had a poor sense of sight but a keen sense of smell and hearing, allowing them to track down humans even when they were not visible. Aside from that, they were normally fast, not lightning fast, but fast enough to put anyone who wasn't lightning fast to the test.

We were wary because we didn't know what kind of zombies we'd encounter. Tae-ho insisted on dousing us in a spray that penetrated their senses and messed with them for a while. Despite the fact that it smelled terrible, it kept us secure for the most part. All we had to do was spray it on ourselves every 30 minutes to keep the aroma from wearing off.

Soonyoung pulls the group around him, whispering, “We have about 2 miles to go until we reach the first checkpoint; we can stop at the old home on the right.” We shook our heads and waited for his next call, pointing to the house ahead of us.

“I want Y/N and Chan-woo to go first, to get to the building, and to keep an eye out for us when we arrive.”

As you carefully rushed to the building, you looked at Chan-woo and pulled him up, afraid of the walkers behind you. The next two were up as they quickly walked by the walkers, signaling that you had made it safely to the house.

“All right, get whatever supplies you can find and meet in the back in ten minutes.”

Soonyoung told the group to look around, and it was common knowledge that we should look for supplies. You left your companion and walked upstairs to get some fresh clothing; yeah, you still have to appear presentable.

When you got to the top, you went through random rooms until you arrived at a room that was clearly a teenager's room, despite the fact that it was blown out with dirt and litter. Not only did it break your heart to see all of their stuff crammed into the same space, but you also knew they were on their way to becoming a walker.

It was difficult, but you had to persevere. You stumbled throughout the room, thankfully discovering batteries, a few shirts, a first aid kit, duct tape, and some pads. Needed at all times.

Nodding, you threw your belongings into your bag and descended the stairs, only to discover everyone going for the back door. You looked around and swiftly moved to the back, where you saw them waiting for you in a defensive position.

“Hopefully, we all got some excellent things, and we'll be able to go through them more thoroughly when we go back. Now that the extra generator is only three houses away, we're into walkers territory, so stay vigilant."

As the group starts out toward the last house on the street, careful of walkers in the route, you tighten your hold on your bat and look about. You and the group make it to the last house, carefully moving across the wreckage and immediately entering the house.

“Okay, we've got a few minutes before they notice we're here, so let's finish packing.” Keeping in mind that these generators were compact, they were suitable for storing in tight locations. You take the tiniest ones and place them in Chan-woo's bag before returning your gaze to the larger ones.

“How about those? Aren't they going to be more effective than the smaller ones?” Soonyoung paused for a moment, staring at the generators while walking back and forth as he pondered.

“That is correct, but we don't have enough people to bring it with us; we can get it later when we have more people, but for now, let's just go with the four we have.”

As we got to the door, everyone glanced around and said, "OK." Jong-ho stepped out the door, completely oblivious to the fact that we were in the middle of the apocalypse. We were greeted by a group of walkers.

As we all rushed at him, one of the zombies grabbed his arms, and Chan-woo kicked him off of him and whacked him with his axe. Looking above, we could see a swarm of them approaching us, and we were all terrified.

“LETS GO.”

As the walkers soon approached us, we grabbed hold of Jong-ho and pulled him with us.

We were quickly losing them, so we paused for a while to gather our breath before continuing on to the automobile portion of our adventure; we were almost there, and nothing could possibly go wrong.

Well in fact everything was just about too. When you turned back, you were confronted by the most scary of walkers, the runners. You yelled out to the group that we had to go right now.

We sped past the automobiles, grabbing everyone's attention and daring them not to turn around. Soon after, Soonyoung retreated behind the group to ensure that everyone was safe. You were almost there; the door was visible. You observed a bunch of familiar faces as the door opened.

Tae-ho kept the door open while telling you to duck, spraying bullets through the air and catching some walkers in the back.

“We're almost there,” you exclaimed as you turned around. Soonyoung was fighting the runner, gnashing his bleeding teeth. You panicked, unsure of what to do, as fear surged through your body. As you yelled, you could see the zombie rip into his skin.

You witnessed the zombie fall to the ground after hearing a shot travel through the air and hit it. You had a worried expression on your face as you gazed at Soonyoung.

“We don't have time to discuss this, Y/N.” You must leave right now.”

As tears flowed down your swollen face, you screamed at him.

“I can't leave you behind...,” 

As he strained to stand, he noticed them struggling and staggering toward us. He yelled again, worried for your safety, tears streaming down his bloodshot eyes.

“Please, Y/N, I'm sorry, but I can't let them take you. You have to go now before it's too late.”

You shook your head and raced towards him, barely hoisting him up, sobbing into your torn up sleeves.

“I’m sorry Soonyoung, but I can’t leave you.”

You watched a couple guys rush up to you and carry you and Soonyoung to the door, which they swiftly locked, not wanting to hear the walkers' cries.

When you saw the big bite mark on Soonyoung's arm on the floor, tears flowed down your face and your throat started to close up. You cried as you fell into his lap as he patted your back.

“You can’t leave me please.”

---

It was going to be a long night, not just for you, but for everyone else as well, and if someone got bit, there were two options. Make the pain less easy or to set them free outside, we couldn’t let the infection spread inside. That's how we survived, but you didn’t know if you could do it.

He was your entire world, and you and him would go to the ends of the earth, yes, even to the apocalypse. Why him? It wasn't right.

You awoke in a cold sweat, anxiously looking around.

“Was it all a nightmare?” As you entered the living room, calling out for Soonyoung, you heard a grunt.

It wasn't a dream in the least. Reality has smacked you in the face.

Slowly approaching the couch, you noticed his sweating face; the virus was growing quickly. As you saw him twitch and groan in anguish, it hurt your eyes. You wished you could just take the pain away for a moment.

You sat crouching at his side, clutching his hand in yours as you kissed it, thanking the guard. As he turned to face you, he felt your touch, and his red eyes met yours as you sobbed as you saw his devastated state.

“Hey..hey look at me.” He gently sat up, tears in his eyes, and embraced you, kissing your forehead.

“It was bound to happen, Y/N; all we have to do now is stick together and get through this.” For the sake of both of us, you must be strong.” You clutched him tighter as you became choked up, unsure whether this was the last time.

“I guess our family has to wait.” You wailed into his chest as tears welled up in his eyes. Fearful of what was to come, he brought you closer to him and kissed your head as he cried.

It happened so quickly that neither of you realized what was going on. What he had asked you to do was unthinkable; you couldn't do it. Was it the virus or him who was speaking?

“Babe I can’t.” As tears streamed from the corner of your and his eyes, the worn-out pistol in your fingers trembled.

“Love, you have to, it's growing worse and I can feel it taking over my body,” he began shivering as he attempted to regain consciousness. "Allow me to spend my final moments with you as Soonyoung.”

As you sat back, he grabbed you and held you in his arms as you flung your arms around his neck, holding back tears.

He gave you one more glance as he crawled up to you and kissed your lips as you drew him back to you, savoring every moment.

“I believe this is it, I love you so much Soonyoung, please never forget and I'm so sorry,” you chuckled as you looked down with a tear-streaked face. You gripped his hand as you silently cursed as you drew him closer. "

You brought the gun up in front of you and pressed the trigger while closing your eyes.

*BANG*

His body slid to the ground, the warmth of life snatched from him by death's icy grasp. Blood gushed from his gaping wounds, tainting the once-pristine earth with the wry wit of someone who had been gone far too soon. His chest lay motionless, with no signs of life or his customary purity in his bosom, indicating that he was dead.

Holding the rifle to your chin as you gently close your eyes, you take another look at his body. Everything was taken from you by the world: your happiness, your source of clarity, and your life. As the bullet flew through your head, you wiped the tears from your eyes and pulled the trigger.

As you fell to the ground, you felt your body's life drain away as you saw it fade from your eyes.

“I won’t ever leave you.” You kissed his hand one more time as your whole body went limp and drifted away into the light, holding his hand closer.

And then, out of nowhere, two lights dimmed, never to be seen again in this messed-up world.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

➳ Navigate to the Maze

[siremasterlawrence]

The Bachelor Nerd Edition: The Boxer

Part 1 - 2

Jake Tyler is a boxer that lives at my condo

residence, I exit my condo onto the main isle floor, and he greets me.

I bump into him to his annoyance he huffs at me giving me heavy eyes of anger and rage not that different from others.

It’s during Covid when this idiot delivery guy comes to my apartment and gets angry at me for action.

This over the top aggro behavior of other man is aggravating it’s self at best and true revelation of life.

Anyway, Jake is about to say something to me when my cellphone falls to the ground for all to see.

The camera pops up going off with super odd bright white flash blinding him quickly.

I ignore him quickly picking it up trying to step out of the way until I notice he stood in place.

I wave my hand in his face, stuck in his place as he is frozen in time I tap his right shoulder.

I check my camera to see his picture with a daze expression on his face and glaze look in his eyes.

I swerve to the side of his back shoving him into my apartment building shutting the door behind him.

Part 3 - 5

Rummaging through draws I could not even fathom how it works out but I think I can use this.

I smack myself finding the cord connecting to my cellphone to my laptop as both shoot a loud bing.

I press a app that pops up titled live subject apparently I created this in a dream like state.

I grab my wireless headphones placing it on my head the program begins ready at my voice command.

“Voice command and obey.” I instruct the bot programming to do.

“Stand up straight to and look at me.”

“Yyyyyeeeeessssss, I hear and obey”

“Eyes glassy, focus on me and so as I say”

“Yyyyeeeessssss”

“Begin mind sweeping, wipe it and become a doll.”

“Activate a doll process.”

“Yes, which mode?”

“Bachelor mode”

“Mind and body are in progress”

“Complete in one hour”

Part 6 - 8

“You will return to your condo call in sick for yourself.”

“Yyyyeeesss, I will call I sick”

“You will wake up tomorrow completed”

“I understand must go”

“Yea do that”

“Mwahahahahaha”

He walks off mindless closing my door he is outside and down the hall in no time.

He opens his door shutting out the world for the next eight hours or so.

Entering his bedroom he strips off his very article of clothing onto the floor.

Plopping on to the bed he falls into a deep foggy sleep.

The night I dreamt he woke up thinking only of me, he gets stark naked walking in.

Stopping at the sink he rubs his facial hair grabbing a razor and does a shave.

Taking his time he is cleaning up the hair in the sink, he smells his order which is filthy.

He turns on the knob letting the shower on and the water runs over his face.

Later that day he drys off getting dress for me, impressing me easily he is at my door.

The end

[snakevillain]

when i was a child, my mother was never the mother i would see in public or on TV screens, attentive and doting and actively interested in their child’s life. she was the familiar entity, the title of “mom” earning my respect always, but something was missing. i would later find, in the exposed, naked awareness of adolescence, that my mother was an actress. every motherly action was a performance, but too absent-minded to fool me in the end, too clumsy to make me feel safe and held. she had never figured out how to be a mom, never fully given herself to the title. i learned that she was merely dreaming of escape. i would also learn, much later, that she was a teenage girl, like myself, playing pretend as a middle-aged woman who knew what she was doing. on nights where her alcohol-tinted tears flowed like water, i was able to strip away her layers and see the sad, scared little girl she has always been. once i was older, she let the act fall away. she began to let herself fall further and further from the role of “mom”, choosing instead to let me see her as a sort of friend that could do things like tell me where to go and what to do. this friendship was conditional on the basis that i don’t tell the truth too much or too often. i told her what she wanted to hear, or what i knew she would accept. it became a precarious dynamic of control and false freedom. the cage was made bigger, and i was allowed to spread my wings ever so slightly. never too much, because if i were to think about flying, she would lose the only person that she could laugh with one second, and condemn the next. only a child could be burdened with this duality. i listened intently as she gushed about her life, the life i was excluded from when i left to visit my father. i would give clumsy advice and let her go on and on about her childhood, of who she was before she got pregnant, of how badly my father treated her and “oh, i know you went through a lot as a kid, but i was just trying to survive, bella.” she had figured out this loophole, the one where she could live her dream of never being called “mom.” once, when i could no longer stand my father’s rage, i asked her if i could come home, and sleep in my bed. i was quickly told that she had other plans, these “plans” being a man that would keep her company and make her feel free. how could i come home when i would ruin her game of pretend, her precious days off from responsibility? sometimes, during moments of weakness, i would slip and let her know the truth of how i felt. of course, if the truth was too much for her, i was quickly shoved back into my cage, and reminded of my place. i was the child, and she was my makeshift, poorly crafted mother.

[mari-beau]

GIVE ME A REASON: PART SIX - A Rogue One Fanfiction

This is a shorter installment, and maybe pointless… maybe I’m dragging this out too long… But also, who cares, I’m doing this for fun. I just love playing with them!

Read on AO3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Title: Give Me A Reason: Part Six

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Jyn Erso POV, Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn (mostly pre-ship?)

Spoilers: Rogue One; Episode IV A New Hope

Setting: Post-Rogue One AU (Cassian & Jyn live); Also during/post A New Hope

Warnings: Some coarse language. References to wounds. And… Cuddling?

Words: 1,720

Story Summary: Jyn’s entire universe has been turned on its head, so maybe she’s clinging a little too hard to the one thing she feels certain of (strangely enough) as she tries to figure out her place in the galaxy. And maybe she’s being a little overprotective of a wounded captain.

Also can be found on AO3.

The Death Star had come for them.

Again.

But Jyn couldn’t bring herself to care. It did seem a little strange to have been spared the last time only to probably be destroyed this time, barely a week later. But either way, it was the end to her life she now knew to be her fate, or whatever. It just felt right. It just was. Not the Death Star specifically, but,

Jyn Erso would die in Cassian Andor’s arms.

Whether it should’ve been on Scarif. Or it was here on Yavin 4. Or the next day. Or thousands of days in the future.

And there was a sort of peace in knowing that. One that allowed her to climb into his bed, slide her arms around him, and bury her face in his shoulder. He stirred and her heart skipped a beat. It was easier when he was unconscious, to consider how she felt about him, how she’d been attracted to men before, even had something akin to a relationship with one or two, but it had never felt like this.

“Jyn…?”

“Yes, it’s me. We’re on the base on Yavin 4. Safe. In your quarters.” It was easier to preempt any confusion or alarm Cassian experienced when he woke from his heavy, partially drugged, mostly just exhausted from his body’s healing, sleep.

“How long?” he asked, then realized there were static-laden voices broadcasting over the basewide intercom. “What’s going on?”

“You’ve been asleep for 12 hours,” Jyn said, moving closer and partially on top of him to prevent him from trying to get up in a rush and falling flat on his face. Also, she was admittedly afraid on some level, afraid to be alone and facing death. When he was near her, when they were physically entwined in some way, she felt like everything would be okay. Even if she died, if it was in Cassian’s arms, then everything would be okay. Irrational, yes. But that didn’t make it any less her truth.

“The Death Star is here,” she said, once she could tell he was awake enough to understand, not muddled by pain meds. “The Alliance is scrambling their forces to engage. They’re leaving the comms open, since you know…”

“We’re all dead if they fail.”

His arms wrapped around her and engulfed her in his warm embrace. Cassian Andor, a man who, she didn’t think she was wrong to guess, hadn’t received much at all in the way of affection in his life, somehow was so good at holding a person he made the pain of the universe go away, made the entire universe fade away except for his hands on her body, gentle and undemanding but also firm and reassuring, his breath hot on her neck, sending shivers down her spine, and his body beneath hers, so strong despite his injuries.

“Are you okay?” she asked, remembering the physical state of him.

“Mmm… Yes.” His hands tightened their grip on her side and shoulder, reflexively, a gentle squeeze as he murmured into her neck. “Feels good.”

He probably meant he felt fine, but oh, yes, it did feel good. Or maybe he was still quite medicated?

“My weight isn’t putting pressure on your injuries?” Jyn asked. “Maybe I should…”

“No.” Somehow he managed to pull her further into him, her breasts flattening against his chest, her hip practically fusing to his, her breath hitching momentarily and then joining the rhythm of his own breaths...in and out… in and out… in and out...

Cassian sighed, made a frustrated, growling sound.

“I need to use the ‘fresher,” he said, loosening his grip on her.

Jyn rolled off from him, swung her legs around to sit on the side of the cot and waited to see if Cassian could manage to stand. He slid to sit on the edge of the bed next to her and took a moment. She didn’t press him, though an instinct inside of her wanted to offer assistance, wanted to take care of him, wanted to ease the pain and struggle his recovery was.

He stood, again pausing for a moment, then walked slowly across the small room to his private refresher facilities. Apparently, it was one of very few benefits to his officer’s rank, for the small quarters were nothing more than a glorified closet. But she supposed it spared him from having to sleep in a large barracks with a bunch of others, not that it would’ve deterred Jyn in the least from crawling into his bed.

Part of her felt like she shouldn’t watch his laborious movements, out of respect, but she couldn’t look away. What if he needed her?

Force, what if he didn’t need her? Not like she needed him? Aw, fuck. She needed him.

She watched the muscles in his naked back twitch, stiff from inactivity and injury. But her eyes were inevitably drawn to the perfectly uniform lines of small circular marks running down his spine. She knew there was a matching sort of trail along his ribs. Injections of some sort of bacta cocktail meant to speed the fusing of the fractures in his vertebrae and ribs, injections straight into the bone. How painful would that have been if he’d been conscious, she couldn’t help but wonder, couldn’t help but want to wrap her smaller body around as much of Cassian as she could, run her hands gently over his scars, old and new, make sure his wounds were healing and his bruises fading, hear him sigh contentedly against her skin, hold him forever.

As he disappeared into the ‘fresher, Jyn realized she was hopeless.

Cassian Andor had taught her about hope. And had made her absolutely hopeless at the same time.

But why fret about it? What did it matter?

Jyn was used to dealing with life moment by moment, day by day. And she might not have many more moments, anyway.

The loud, static-laden voices crackling over the basewide intercom announced the launch of yet another squadron of fighters, then abruptly switched over to some ship’s communication officer announcing visual confirmation of the target. The Death Star.

Looming on the horizon like a moon, a harbinger of death, bringer of eternal night. Cold, austere, which made it somehow more terrifying, somehow worse than staring down an angry brute about to put a knife in you. It was just so inevitable, indomitable. Made her feel so small, insignificant, so alone.

“Do you mind if I turn this off?”

Jyn startled. How had she not noticed Cassian reappear in the small room? He pointed at the comm, which was broadcasting the prelims of a battle to determine all their fates.

She didn’t want to listen to it either.

“Please do,” she said, already feeling less… alone.

She watched Cassian lean over to switch the speaker off, wincing in sympathy with him as he straightened again, taking a deep breath that expanded his chest and shifted the muscles beneath his skin, mesmerizing her more than a little. His mostly naked body preoccupied far too many of her thoughts.

But what else had she been supposed to do? She’d woken up drenched in sweat that first night in his quarters, had to strip out of the heavy infirmary clothes, found Cassian tossing in his sleep, nearly feverish, removed the sweltering clothes from his body, as well. Little did she know, how enthralling she’d find his lean muscles, the shape of his body, the feel of his bare skin, his-

His hands cupped her face and Jyn looked up at Cassian Andor, his kriffing gorgeous dark eyes fixed on her. His fingers swept some stray hair from her forehead, tucked it behind her ear, returned to swipe gently over the nearly-healed scar above her eyebrow, in her hairline.

“Are you okay?” A knot formed in her throat. Cassian was a good man, despite every questionable thing he’d done and tortured himself over. Of course he would care about her wellbeing. It didn’t mean-

“Ow!”

“Your blaster wound still hurts?” His fingers feathered over her shoulder, not touching the freshly healed injury this time.

“It does when you jab your finger in it.” She grabbed his wrist and tugged his hand away, throwing him off balance so that he fell into her and she managed to catch him and ease him onto the bed, right where she wanted him.

A chuckle escaped him and he smiled, making something flutter inside of her. And then he was reaching for her, pulling her close.

His embrace was everything she’d never known she’d wanted. His hands stroked her back and he buried his face in her neck, nuzzling a sensitive spot just behind and below her ear.

She sighed, wrapping an arm around his middle and burying the fingers of her other hand in his messy, soft hair. She pressed gently as she massaged his scalp down to his nape, eliciting a hum of pleasure from him that vibrated against her bare skin and into her flesh.

If this was to be her last moment, Jyn held no regrets. It was a good moment.

“Jyn?” His voice had a lethargic but happy edge to it, thick and low and sleepy. She could sympathize.

“Yes?” She twisted her finger in a lock of hair curling about his neck.

“Please don’t let me sleep so long this time.” His whisper tickled her ear. “No more than 10 hours. Okay? Please?”

He wanted her to wake him up in 10 hours… Like there wasn’t a battle raging in space nearby… Like he didn’t believe they were quite probably going to die soon, incinerated by a weapon her own father helped design. Like he didn’t believe they were going to lose, after all. Somehow, he believed they would be there, together, ten hours from this moment.

Hope.

Such a man as Cassian… The most unexpected thing she’d discovered about him was his belief in hope. That he possessed any at all after all he had done, all he had seen. And then he’d given it to her.

And again, it warmed her, deep inside, that small seed of hope. She snuggled closer to the man, hoping for something she couldn’t even begin to conceive of. But yearned for it, with every fiber of her being.

[ushidoux]

In consideration of recent news that Furudate thinks Mattsun deserves his own show, I would like to say that I wholeheartedly agree!

So, here’s a preview/prologue to a new ficlet series in collaboration with @hq-trashies​ and @bokutosmommy​ about Matsukawa Issei, titled Sex Therapy (AKA The Misadventures of Love Doctor Matsukawa Issei).

A twist to this series is that we will take requests from YOU, where YOU can suggest the next relationship problem our lovely Mattsun will fix while railing you; hopefully he doesn’t break your back in the meantime.

Just send us a relationship problem and you’ll be featured in a drabble!

But for now, here’s a short * origin story * below ~

---

When Matsukawa Issei first set foot on campus on the 1st of April alongside his former teammates and friends, he had intended to keep a low profile.

That didn’t exactly mean he would just keep his head buried in textbooks. He was friends with Oikawa Tooru, a notorious showboater and flirt, after all, and maybe, just maybe he had an inclination to the more carnal pleasures of life.

Despite having started college as a bonafide virgin (to the disbelief of many a person who had shared a locker room with him), it didn’t take very long for him to cast off that portmanteau in the upstairs bedroom of a frat house a couple of hours into a raging party. He wasn’t sure he remembered what the girl looked like, and that wasn’t really his business.

Merely minutes after a heated make-out session, kisses flavored with cheap lite beer and fueled by disinhibition from the mixture of young adult hormones and inebriation, he found himself bouncing the stripped naked woman on his cock, which apparently was huge based on the wide eyed expression she’d given him before wrapping her lips around the tip. 

At least she’d managed to take him well enough, so he couldn’t say his first experience was a shame.

But what he hadn’t expected was for her to burst into tears right after the come down the second time she’d climaxed. He’d been concerned that he had actually managed to hurt her, and anticipated that disciplinary action would come swiftly for him (somehow he tended to piss off authorities, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of height and his constantly disinterested base expression or if he was just unlucky).

But rather, she buried her head in his chest and told him that she had intended really to just get her situation-ship jealous, and she felt bad for using him for such an incredible lay when her heart belonged to another. Matsukawa listened - he had always been good at that - and had given her what sounded like obvious, reasonable advice:

“Just tell him what you told me.”

He still remembered her look of shock as she watched him, letting the words sink in. 

And then the sharing came, and Mattsun continued to listen to her words through her sighs and moans, and gave her tips to snag this person of her dreams, while working up to his second climax.

When he saw her again around campus and her eyes connected with him, only to come and thank him profusely for working her through her relationship issues, he’d thought nothing of it.

Until the rumors started to spread, and more and more women who were either interested in an incredible fuck or a fuck and a therapy session.

And thus the cliché name set in -

Matsukawa Issei became the on campus ‘Love Doctor’ with the rumor being that he would give you unmatched relationship advice while being impossibly deep in your guts, and he wasn’t exactly sure how he would get rid of the epithet.

At least he was still getting laid and providing a service to his community. Maybe he could put it on his CV....

---

Stay tuned for episodes of Sex Therapy (AKA The Misadventures of Love Doctor Matsukawa Issei) where Matsukawa fixes your problem but also rails you too.

We will be accepting requests!

[fanfickittycat]

Warmth

TITLE: Warmth

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One Shot

AUTHOR: fanfickittycat

FANDOM: Haikyuu!!

CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

GENRE: Romance/Fluff

FIC SUMMARY: You and Wakatoshi get caught in the rain when you wait for him after practice and he is determined to keep you warm

RATING: T  (no smut but kinda spicy at the end)

AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: nudity and ushijima being blunt af lmao. You can also read it on AO3 here

Ushijima sighed when he saw you, which wasn’t the greeting you had wanted at all. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” You asked, feeling a little hurt. He told you that practise had been extended by a couple of hours and you had insisted on meeting him anyway, taking the opportunity to get some much-needed reading done in the meantime. “I’m always happy to see you” he said, not letting you continue with that train of thought “but I told you not to wait for me.” This was true. Wakatoshi was never one to mince words, always saying exactly what he meant, even if it was over text. “I thought it would be nice. We always hang out on Fridays.” You felt dejected now, and worst, embarrassed by how desperate you were to see him. You looked down at your shoes which were still damp from the rain and tried to silence the sad thudding of your heart. He was quiet, which wasn’t unusual, but you wished he would say something to ease the aching in your chest. “I don’t like when you’re out late” he said plainly “it’s dark, and all this rain isn’t good for you.” You huffed “I’m fine.” Ushijima always seemed to see you as smaller than you really were; fragile and bearing a label that said, ‘to be handled with the utmost care’. He would never let you clamber on the counter in search of something on the top shelf; always insist you wore a scarf when there was even the slightest chill in the air; and even if you were just tipsy off of wine, he’d make you drink a full glass of water. He was sweet but overbearing at times. “I don’t want you to get sick.” “I just wanted to do something nice for you” you mumbled, feeling yourself stiffen and then relax when he petted your head. “I don’t doubt your intentions” he said, and you peeked up at him, finally looking him in the eyes again “I appreciate it.” You smiled, feeling your cheeks flush despite the temperature drop from the evening’s rainstorm. He smiled too, letting his hand cup your cheek. It was warm, and rough from practise, but he cradled the side of your face like it was something precious. His thumb stroked over your skin softly, and you leaned into his touch happily like a cat.

“Come, let’s go.” He said, taking your umbrella from you and shaking it out. He opened it before taking your hand in his to walk to his apartment. It was a short distance away, but the rain was relentless, and the added gusts of wind made it worst. You winced, as the wind whipped your cheeks, and the stray raindrops wet your back, making you shiver. You heard Ushijima mutter something under his breath and looked up to see his teeth clenched as the wind forced the umbrella to fly up and turn inside out. He took his hand off yours to try and close it and open it properly, but the elements had taken your red umbrella and promptly battered it, making it impossible to open smoothly again.

“Let’s wait there” Ushijima pointed to an awning that hung over a closed store, and you rushed to be out of the rain. “Toshi…” you watched him struggle to work the umbrella again “I think it’s broken.” He joined you in looking down at the broken metal rib of the umbrella and pressed his lips together momentarily. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new one.” “It’s okay” you reached out to touch his arm “you’re soaked.” He looked down at you apologetically. “You are too.” He blinked when you giggled at your shared predicament. “We’re nearly at your apartment” you pointed out “we should run.” He raised an eyebrow “how will you keep up with me?” This was harsh but true. You weren’t built to run like he was, he actually trained, you just lay in bed and scrolled through Twitter. “I have a better plan” he announced, going to throw your umbrella in a nearby bin before returning to you. You watched as he shrugged off his sports jacket and handed it to you. “But Toshi!” “Put it on. You need it more than I do.” You knew he wouldn’t let up, so you conceded, putting your arms through and zipping it up. Only the tops of your fingers peeked out of the sleeves, and the bottom of the jacket brushed your knees. You felt ridiculous but the newfound warmth eclipsed it easily. “Here” he leaned down, squatting nearly to the floor. “Ummmm…” He turned his head so you could see one of his dark eyes “climb on my back. It’s more efficient than you running beside me.” You nearly choked on your saliva when he said that. You had never gotten a piggyback ride from Wakatoshi before, you weren’t even sure he knew the phrase ‘piggyback ride’. Gingerly, you put you secured your hands on his shoulders, feeling shy suddenly. You squeaked when his hand gripped the underside of your thigh, and he hoisted the two of you up. “Wow. You’re really tall” you said dumbly, looking down at the pavement from his height. No wonder he was always so concerned about you, you must have looked tiny to him. “I’m below the average height for spikers” he informed you patiently, but he couldn’t deny the swell of pride he got whenever you were in awe of his physicality.

“Ready?” he asked, adjusting his bag so that it wouldn’t be too much of a bother for you. You squeezed his shoulder in confirmation, holding on tighter as you felt him tense before breaking into a run. The rain hit instantly, soaking Ushijima’s jacket again, and the wind was persistently thrashing your hair, but it was exhilarating. You couldn’t help but break into a fit of laughter as you clung to your boyfriend. It wasn’t something you could explain. The rain lashing against you, the wind raging, the utter absurdity of the situation, the feeling of Toshi being so close to you. It was a heady, hysterical mix. When Wakatoshi bent down for you to climb off his back you almost stumbled, still giggling a little as you did so.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself” he said, putting his key in the door. “I don’t remember the last time I laughed that hard” you said, shivering as you followed him to the lifts. He took your hands in his and breathed on them, rubbing his palms against the tops of your hands to warm you up. He led you into the lift, clicking the 3 before resuming his task again. “We’ll have to do it again” he said, “I like hearing you like that.” “Toshi” you mumbled his name, feeling butterflies spawn in your stomach again.

“Come, let’s get you warmed up” he said, pulling you towards his door. He opened it, ushering you in before closing the door. He was so methodical in his actions. With a practised hand he tossed his keys into the bowl by the door and hung his bag up. You unzipped his jacket, and he took it from you to hang up alongside his bag. “T-Toshi, what’re you doing?” you choked, watching as he pulled his shirt off. It wasn’t as though you’d never seen him shirtless before, you had been intimate with him many times, but it never failed to make your brain malfunction when you saw the smooth planes of pale muscle. You struggled to form a coherent word when he tugged off his sweatpants, looking curiously at your warm face. “One of the easiest ways to develop a cold is from staying in wet clothes” he informed, approaching you to unbutton your blouse. Your breath hitched as he undid each button carefully, not wanting a repeat of the time he pulled too hard and broke half the buttons on your shirt. You had to go home the next day in one of his t-shirts and a promise to buy you a new one, but you hadn’t minded too much, instead declaring that you should get to keep the t-shirt as compensation instead. He hadn’t argued against that and now you slept in it. “It is imperative that we shower as soon as possible” he said, tugging your jeans down, you leaned one hand on his shoulder as you stepped out of them. His hot breath against your thigh almost made your knees weak, causing you to grip him harder. You were almost afraid to let go of him when he remerged, holding a bundle of your shared wet laundry. “I’ll put these to dry, you start the shower” he said nonchalantly, turning to put them on the drying rack, as though the two of you weren’t stripped down to your underwear.

You tiptoed to the bathroom, starting the shower as you usually would, straightening up when you heard him pad towards you. “Do you want to go first?” You asked, feeling the water. “It’s more efficient if we go together” he said directly, he looked at your face “why are you shy? We’ve seen each other naked before.” You cringed “yeah but…” you struggled to justify your bashfulness, hooking your thumbs into your panties and nervously bringing them down your damp legs. “Here” he unclipped your bra expertly after seeing you struggle to do it with your numb fingers. Wakatoshi stepped into the shower first and then offered his hand to you to hold as you got in. The warm water was a welcome relief, but you couldn’t feel that much of it because Ushijima was in front of you. “Come here” he took the shower head down and sprayed you directly whilst you lathered your hands with soap. He hummed happily when you began to massage it into his taut arms, working your way up to his neck which you could barely reach, and then down his pectorals. “Toshi” you huffed, as your soapy hands pressed against his abs. He affixed the shower head and looked down at you. “Do you want me to wash your hair?” “No. Yes. I mean yes.” You cleared your throat, quickly stopping his hand from reaching for the shampoo “kiss” you said urgently, clawing at his abdomen for him to come down to you. He complied, leaning down and capturing your lips lightly with his. He made a soft groan into your mouth when you pushed yourself closer to him, tangling your digits in his wet, olive hair. His own hands curled around your waist, and your thighs pressed together as the warm stream of water flowed down his arms and then the back of your legs. You pulled away and smiled at his red, dumbstruck face “thanks for always keeping me warm, Toshi”.

[fandom-collective-writers]

Trick-or-Treat (Gavin x MC)

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Gavin x MC (Female)

Warning: NSFW 

Requested by: Anonymous

Written by: @voltage-vixen

Excess water droplets trickled down the muscles of Gavin’s toned physique as he stood in the shower wiping the water away from the cuts of his body. Wrapping the towel around his lean waist, Gavin stepped out from the shower and went to grab his shaving supplies in the bathroom’s vanity. Tonight, was the eve of Halloween, and Gavin was preparing for his home date with MC.

The evolver’s work schedule had been gruesome recently; forcing him to travel away for mission after mission, leaving him pining for his time to spend with his special sweetheart. He almost didn’t believe it when the mysterious forces of the galaxy allowed the stars to align since his work told him to take the entire afternoon off to fit in some rest and relaxation time. The second the minute hand on the clock struck to signal his freedom, Gavin had called MC to invite her to spend the night. She immediately accepted his invitation, and he was just finishing getting ready until the sound of the doorbell interrupted him.    

“Gavin, it’s me,” MC’s muffled voice rang from the hallway. “I know I’m a bit early, but do you mind letting me in? I forgot my key at the office.”

“Not at all, I’ll be right there!” Gavin called out.

Placing his razor next to the sink, Gavin secured his grip on the towel and wandered through the living room to unlock the door. He let out a startled gasped and nearly dropped his towel when he saw MC standing there looking like a vision. She stood tall in her black heels that emphasized her legs that lead up to the tight-fitting jacket she was wearing. On the top of her head sat a pair of black cat ears, which explained the drawn-on whiskers and black painted on her button nose.

“Trick or treat,” MC purred, her hand resting on his chest to give Gavin an abrupt nudge back into the apartment. “I missed you so much.”

Without allowing her stunned man to respond, MC unfastened the buttons from her coat, and discarded the black jacket to the ground as she stepped out of her heels. Gavin gulped when her hasty strip tease revealed the sight of her naked body that she was baring before him. Now only wearing the cat ears on her head, MC glided towards him and snaked her hands inside the waist of his towel.

“Your turn,” she whispered, before drawing her lips against his own to steal a kiss.

MC deepened their kiss, catching each one of Gavin’s moans as her nimble fingers loosened the towel. Her hand sought the heat of his throbbing arousal, giving him a few hard pumps before eliciting a hiss of pleasure from Gavin.

“You seem more turned on than usual,” MC crooned, nibbling on the lobe of his ear to prolong her teasing. “Do you like it when I take charge?”

She curled her fingers around the thickness of his erection to illustrate her point, wanting to push Gavin wild past the brink of madness. Instead, MC was taken aback when his hand shot up and latched onto her wrist.

“Playing a trick on your boyfriend typically isn’t what one would consider nice,” Gavin retaliated, his hands traveling to seek the warmth of MC’s body as he grasped onto the lines of her waist.

He felt her quiver under the flame his familiar touch elicited. Countless times of intimacy they shared together left no circumference of MC unknown to Gavin. Every curve of hers, every sensitive spot, and all her desires were ravished by her ever-generous partner. The want was evident in her eyes when he lifted the woman up and settled her on the edge of his lap. Her hips squirmed in a frenzied plea for Gavin to allow them to become one. The officer’s lips curled when she fervently eyed the length of his shaft, longing to lose herself in his passion.

“Despite your mischievous behavior, my little kitty cat deserves a treat for being adorable beyond compare,” he coaxed.

Thrusting his hips with intention, the head of his cock brushed against the swell of her womanhood. MC’s head arched at the brief sensation of ecstasy, a rush of blissful electricity pulsating in the pool of her lower belly. Concluding that he had toyed with MC enough, Gavin bestowed mercy upon her and parted her thighs to make his entrance smoother.

“Would you like a treat, my darling pet?”  Gavin hummed, his lips grazing along the bud of her breast.

His tongue lazily lapped at her nipple, while he shifted to align his cock between the softness of her glistening folds. Gavin groaned when he was immersed in the warmth of her wetness as the tip of his manhood pressed into her core.

“Y-Yes, I-I want a treat!” MC mewled, her brain frantically searching for the words to respond when her heart was pounding in a gratifying vigor at the slight feel of Gavin stretching her. “No more tricks and no more teasing, so I beg you let me feel all of you, Gavin!”

“You’re a greedy little pet,” Gavin chuckled, leaning over to bite down on the nape of her collarbone before pushing the rest of himself deep into her. “But don’t worry, because you make greed look attractive.”

Gavin was met by the melodious sounds of her moans as his lower body rolled in pace with her bouncing. His fingers firmly held onto her rounded ass, and his teeth lingered along her neckline until a striking crimson pattern was etched into the fairness of her skin.

“My sweet pet deserves only the finest collar,” Gavin murmured, his mouth turning focus to bite the bottom of her luscious lip.  

The anomalous whispers of dirty talk heightened MC’s senses, causing her walls to flutter around the thickness of his member as she was beginning to become undone. A salacious grunt escaped through the crease of Gavin’s lips from the tightness of her clenching him. The buildup of his climax was intensifying, and he knew MC was close from the way she was digging her nails across the surface of his back. Keen for MC to lose herself with him, Gavin’s hand snaked around her waist and his able fingers went to work at stroking her like the kitty cat she was.

MC’s cat ears resided soundly in place while the locks of her hair swayed as her body quaked in growing closer to reaching her peak. Her hands crawled up his toned back, and she braced herself by gripping onto his strong shoulders. She noticed a drip of sweat was trailing near his brow from the exertion. Titling her head, MC sensually licked Gavin’s forehead clean. Each caress with her tongue was deliberate and tantalizing, purposely driving Gavin wild, and awakening his inner beast.

MC’s plan was a success because no sooner did Gavin utter a carnal growl before thrusting harder into her. Their hands were roaming over the canvases of their bodies, and their kissing heightened into a feverish rage. Alas, after a few more rhythmic movements, stars blinded MC’s eyes as she let out a euphoric scream. She rested her head on Gavin’s damp chest when she felt him expand, indicating he had also reached orgasm status.

“Wow,” MC breathed, rolling off from Gavin’s lap to take a seat next to him on the floor. “That was just….wow.”

“You’re easy to please,” Gavin retorted, reaching out to tuck her disheveled bangs behind her ear. He kept a watchful eye on her, ensuring her ragged breathing was in the process of returning to normal. “I can’t say I know of any other who would be able to rock the cat look like you do.”

“I wasn’t aware that you were going to be that into this type of thing!”

Gavin’s arms encompassed MC into his embrace, where she giggled at the tickling sensation of their bare skin pressing together. He rested his head in between the ears she still wore on her head when a sudden stroke of genius wreaked upon her. Turning around to face her man, MC removed the cat ears from her head and placed it onto Gavin’s.

“I don’t know, Gavin, this look seems to really suit you as well,” MC mocked, licking her lips whilst climbing onto his lap. “How about we go another round and see how you fare this time as the cat?”

Gavin happily obliged when MC gently shoved him down onto his back. Straddling him, she grinded down onto his cock which had hardened again for round two beneath her. Smirking as his erection twitched, she rested a hand on his chest and gazed down at him.

“Ready?” she challenged, rubbing her hips against his erection, reveling at the heated friction between them. “And this time I’ll be the one giving you the collar to wear.”

Gavin controlled his instinct to plunge into MC, and instead propped himself up on his elbows and pecked at the tip of her nose. Locking glances with each other, Gavin’s eyes were soft as he shared a tender smile with MC.

“Meow,” he responded, with a sexy smirk that should come with a warning as a small flood pooled in between her legs.

“Meow, indeed,” she purred back. Her world was instantly rocked with the blissful intrusion of Gavin sliding into her.

Each one of the evolver’s thrusts was a treat in itself. And while a little trick never hurt anybody before, MC reveled in the spoils of treat after treat Gavin spent the rest of the evening delivering as her teeth went to work on her promise to him.

[mypassionfortrash]

KICKS (part five)

After you and Roger nail down his limits, you finally set a date for your first kinky playdate. And, more importantly, you open him up to brand new sensations!

WARNINGS: Strong D/s themes; restraints, edging, overstimulation, facesitting and anal.  STRICTLY 18+. NOTES: Still going strong with this one! Thank you so much for all the kind words and amazing feedback on the first few parts. This chapter’s really long (over 6,000 words) so please brace yourselves! AND PLEASE, IF YOU LIKED THIS, SHARE IT!

CATCH UP: Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four

Tags: @jennyggggrrr​ @sarahgurl09​ @scorpiogemini @johnricharddeacy​​ @brianssixpence​​ @hellohellothere12 @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @internationalkpoplova @thefairyfellersmasterstroke @six-bloodyminutes @hannafuckingsucks​ @dancingcoolcat​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @theedwardscollection​ @inthelapofrogertaylor​ @lnnuend0​ @just-my-sickly-pride​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @johndeaconshands​ @loveandbeloved29​ @toreyyyyyy 

“Scat? Like… Jazz singing?” Roger’s eyebrows hiked up. “Definite hard limit.”

“You poor thing,” you muttered, wrestling with a scantily clad mannequin.

Roger looked up at you from behind the cash desk. He shrugged. “Well, what does it mean, then?”

“It means shit.”

He scowled, sticking out his tongue. “People get off on that? Having people… shit on them? Fuck that!”

You shrugged and fastened the clasp on the harness bra you had dressed Melanie the Mannequin in. Then you assessed her hard plastic, but still very naked, rack. “Yep. People definitely get off on it,” you said, reaching for a roll of black bondage tape. Melanie didn’t have nipples, but she still looked far too nude to be front and centre in the shop window, so you bit off small strips of tape and stuck two ‘x’ shapes across her breasts. That might keep the locals quiet, you hoped.

“Definite hard limit,” he hummed, checking the box next to ‘scat’ in the book. “Ok, so watersports?”

When Melanie was safely back on display, you turned around to find Roger nodding as he continued to study the book of kinks.

“I love watersports,” he said.

“That doesn’t mean what you think it does either, Roger. And I’m not going to wee on you.”

“Wee on me?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes. “Oh! Oh, fuck, no! Limit limit limit!”

Perching up on the opposite side of the cash desk, you grabbed the book. “Alright, so we’ve got blood, needles, breath play, scat and watersports as hard limits. I’m going to add vomit to this as well because I’m assuming you’re not into that?” you began, glancing up at Roger.

He gave a swift nod in response.

“And feet, hair removal, enemas and blindfolds as soft limits. Why the blindfolds?”

“Betsy.”

“That’s fair.”

“And you want to try orgasm denial, overstimulation, chastity, restraints, spanking, queening – for obvious reasons – as well as pegging with a question mark and… humiliation.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure what pegging is,” Roger said. He knew. The peachy-pink flush that flashed over his jaw and up to his ears gave him away.

“Remember Big Red?” you asked, nodding towards the display on which Big Red lived.

His voice grew smaller as the redness seeped to his cheeks and down to his chest. “Yeah?”

“And how you said you didn’t want anything in your bum? Ever?”

Roger nodded and rubbed his palms together.

“Well, pegging is when your partner puts things up your bum.”

His teeth sank into his lower lip and tugged. “That… that sounds interesting.”

“Still want to try it?”

Roger swallowed hard. Then he nodded.

“And you know what queening is?”

“Not really, but it sounded fun,” he said enthusiastically. Then he leaned forward, furrowing his brow. “What is it?”

“It’s when I sit on your face and you…” you trailed off, flicking your tongue through your fingers.

“Oh, wow! Sign me up!”

“Let’s do that as a reward for you,” you reasoned. “And you remember all of my rules?”

Roger recited your list like a well-prepared boy scout, looking pleased with himself. “No kissing. No touching unless you ask. No penetrative sex.”

“Good.”

“I… I was also reading in the book that some people like pet names – titles – when they’re… you know.”

You laughed and looked down at your hands. They were clasped together on the desk in front of you. “You usually get around to that once you know you’re going to be playing with someone on a regular basis. Why?”

Roger shrugged and smiled sweetly. “I don’t know. I’m just curious what you’d call me.”

“I’ll have to think about that one. See what you’re like when you’re needy and begging,” you purred.

“I can’t wait,” he sighed. “When do you want to… you know?”

Your insides contracted at the thought. ‘It’s too soon,’ your brain screamed. ‘He’s not ready. You’re not ready!’ But the burn between your thighs told you otherwise. Your heart did too, fluttering inside your ribs like a caged animal dying to be set free. “Tomorrow night sound ok?” you blurted.

Roger’s eyes brightened, lighting up even in the corner of the dingy little shop he found himself visiting. “That sounds great.” He went quiet for a moment, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “What will I wear?”

“Well, you’ll be naked for most of it. It won’t matter much. Wear whatever you think will be comfortable.”

“Are we going to Doxy?”

“No, it’s probably better to start off at either your place or mine,” you explained. “Just in case things take a bad turn and you drop really badly.”

“Drop?”

“Sub drop, sorry. Sometimes if you’ve had quite an intense session, you might feel a bit sad or depressed. So it’s always a good idea to be somewhere where you can have some food, a nap, a bath, hugs. Whatever you need to get yourself feeling a bit better.”

“That makes sense,” Roger said. “I can come to you if you want?”

“Perfect. Just make sure you don’t drive to mine. I’d get a taxi there and back, but if you’re feeling shaky afterwards, you can stay the night. I have a spare room.”

“What time?”

“Eight sound alright?”

“It’s a date.”

Nerves paralysed you all day as you waited for eight o’clock to roll around – and for your playdate with Roger. 

You toyed with the idea of cancelling. 

You poked at the thought of feigning food poisoning or the sniffles. 

And briefly entertained the notion, after spending two hours in the bath, of staying in your pyjamas for the whole session – why make the effort if you weren’t going to have sex?

But one phone call to Andie was enough to coax you into the right headspace. As much as you hated her for it.

“But I just don’t feel sexy!” you whined, rifling through your lingerie drawer. “I barely know him.”

“Well, you’ve got enough in that bloody wardrobe of yours to make yourself look sexy, don’t you? Fake it ’til you make it,” she said bluntly. “And besides, maybe this is what you need.”

“What?”

“A very attractive man that clearly wants you but can’t have you. Might do wonders for your confidence.”

You huffed, pulling out a bralette and a pair of silk french knickers.

“He’s a dish. And if you want, I’d be more than happy to take him off your hands.”

“Not necessary,” you said, shuffling out of your bathrobe. “I think I can manage.”

Andie perked up. “So what’s on the cards for tonight, then?”

Using one hand to put your knickers on was a bad idea, so you stuck the phone receiver in the crook of your neck. “What was that?”

“What are you going to do to poor princess Roger?”

“I reckon I’m gonna…” you paused, slipping on your bralette. “I think I’ll start slow. Maybe with a massage or something and work my way up.” Imagining what he’d sound like when he begged slapped a smile on to your face. “I think I’ll edge him until he’s absolutely desperate to get off and then…”

“And then what?” Andie purred.

“I’m going to let him. Over and over. And if he whines, I’ll ask him if he’d rather be belted.”

“You big softie! He’s already turned you to mush.”

“I don’t want to scare him off! And besides, I don’t want to hurt him. I think he’s still a bit hung up on what his ex did to him.”

“Listen to me, you’re going to be just fine. He’s definitely comfortable around you, and that’s the hardest part.”

“Thanks, Andie.”

“And I want details tomorrow morning!”

“I’ll call you first thing. Promise.”

“Alright, darling, I’ll speak to you in the morning.”

Perched on the end of your bed in your underwear, you assessed your reflection in the mirror just in case you had forgotten even the slightest small detail. Your hair was perfectly styled. Your make up was pristine. But you still lacked something. You just couldn’t put your finger on what.

Then the panic came back.

You had made such a big deal about separating all of this from feelings and sex and relationships, and now you found yourself worrying about what Roger might make of your appearance as if you merely existed to appeal to him. A simmering, self-directed rage got the better of you and forced you out of your bedroom in search of another unconstructive way to channel your nerves. 

You found that in your drinks cupboard inside a bottle of vodka. Half measures weren’t something you did. You took the bottle and a glass back to your room, pouring yourself more than you needed as you walked. Only then did it strike you how much your hands shook. And what was missing.

At the end of your hall, a pair of stockings lay stretched across the rungs of your clothes horse with the rest of your laundry. Sinking the entire glass of vodka, a tiny lightbulb pinged to life above your head as you downed the last drop. 

That’s what was missing. 

The caress of nylon on your legs never failed to make you feel like nothing short of a goddess.

You scurried back into your bedroom on unsteady legs and tugged open your lingerie drawer again. Then you plucked out another pair of stockings and a garter belt. You shuffled out of your knickers and slipped on the newest additions to your outfit.

Much better.

You weren’t sure whether your newfound serenity was down to a simple pair of nylons or the triple vodka working its magic, but you felt ready to put Roger through his paces.

Until your brain interjected. Rude.

Were you going to play with him in your bedroom or the spare room?

You huffed, balling up your fists and resting them on your hips. Weighing up the pros and cons of both your options. 

Play here and you wouldn’t have to waste time moving anything into the spare room. 

Play there and you wouldn’t run the risk of having a sleepy Roger in your bed. After all, he was almost a stranger, and you most certainly did not have feelings for him.

You definitely didn’t like him in that way.

Or at least that’s what you told yourself, yanking open your drawer full of kinks. You knew exactly what you were looking for and quickly bundled the accessories into your arms, piling them high until you couldn’t carry any more. And then, you wandered through to the spare room.

You thanked your lucky stars that the bed was perpetually made, usually for drunk friends or when your parents came to visit. The idea of torturing one of the most sought after rockstars in the same bed that your parents occasionally slept in made you shudder. And it just wouldn’t leave your head.

Until the door buzzer pierced through your flat.

“Fuck.”

His voice was so bright when it sounded over the line: “Hi, it’s Roger!

“Come on up.”

As soon as you put the receiver down, you hurried back into the spare room to lay out everything you needed within reach. Your hands went back to trembling and your heart went back to racing. You could hear the rush of blood in your ears above the sound of yourself listing your accoutrements aloud. “Cuffs. Paddle. Lube. Oil.” 

Before you knew it, Roger was at your door, giving it three sharp knocks that forced your soul from your body for a few seconds. You almost didn’t make it to the hall. Apprehension stiffened all the muscles in your legs. Even cracking the door open was a chore.

But all of that subsided when you saw Roger pacing in the landing. The first thing you noticed was how his hands clung to the collar of his coat in a white-knuckled grasp. And then the coy smile on his lips when he spoke. The way he stopped dead, but couldn’t look you in the eye. “You look nice.”

It took every ounce of restraint you had not to giggle like a giddy schoolgirl. Instead, you smiled back and stepped aside. “Come on in and make yourself at home.”

For a split second, a bolt of electricity surged through you. The fleeting graze of his coat against your arm. The heady scent of his aftershave. How he ruffled his soft blonde hair as he stood idly and awkwardly in your hall.

All you could manage was a feeble, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not going to lie, I might have had a shot of whisky before I came here.”

“I’m not going to lie, there’s a bottle of vodka sitting on my bedside table,” you laughed. “You’re still sober enough to go through with this, aren’t you?”

“It was just a shot,” Roger said, “don’t worry.”

“Ok,” you nodded. Without saying another word, you wandered over to Roger and unfastened the buttons on his coat. 

His breathing hitched when you edged the heavy fabric down his arms, but he still couldn’t make eye contact with you. “Won’t be needing that,” he chuckled.

That dark-lashed gaze of yours went straight to his gut. “You won’t be needing any of it.”

“Right, yeah,” he said. “Will I… you know… take it all off?”

You arched an eyebrow, “Come through to the spare room first.” Grasping Roger’s hand, you led him through. As soon as he clapped eyes on everything laid out on the bed, his grip tightened. You turned to him to find his eyes widening. “You like the look of this?”

He gulped. Then he nodded.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. I’m a bit out of practice myself. It’ll take us a bit of time to get into the swing of things.”

“Looks like you’re already in the swing of things,” he grinned. Before you could croak out a response, Roger was already undressed down to his underwear; red briefs with a growing tent in the middle.

“You look rather smug,” you said, feeling emboldened enough to drag your nails over his collarbones. “Lose the underwear.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to be quite the slavedriver?” he grinned.

You shrugged, watching him hop out of them. “Because I am?”

“Good.”

“We’re going to start off really slow, though,” you explained, leading him over to the bed and sitting down next to him on the edge. “I’ll gradually ramp it up a bit but if you need me to drop back a bit, just say: ‘yellow.’ Got it?”

“Got it.”

“And if it gets too much–”

“Red.”

“Red. Good. And please remember to use them. I want you to enjoy this.”

“I will don’t worry,” he said, looking you square in the eye. His cheeks were already flushed.

Before any second thoughts could creep back into the space between you and Roger, you rose to your feet. “And please remember not to touch me unless I ask you to.”

“I have a feeling you’re not going to give me much of a chance to,” he quipped, nodding at the cuffs beside him.

“You’re awfully lippy tonight,” you smirked.

“You make it too easy.”

“Maybe I should leave the slow start and skip to the good stuff.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Or,” you began, stepping forward, “I could make you suffer. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Roger didn’t say a word, but he did keen into your touch as your nails clawed down his neck. With one hand on his chest, you didn’t have to use much force to get him to sink backwards. “On your front,” you instructed.

He complied, folding his arms underneath his chin. His calves hung over the edge of the bed, toes wiggling in anticipation.

You bent down close to Roger’s ear. “Good boy.” The sensation of your breath on his neck made him jump, but you noticed his eyes closing and a sweet smile forming. The damage Betsy had done was still visible across his muscles; a reminder to go gentle on him. You wandered around to his other side and grabbed the bottle massage oil lying beside him. Not caring to warm it up, you drizzled some on his spine. He winced, trying to roll on to his side, but his movements weren’t quick enough. He was pinned. Under you. Straddling his hips, you found yourself in prime position to manipulate him exactly as you wished. But first, all you wanted to do was explore him – every inch of him.

The join between his neck and shoulder was a familiar spot. His own hands wandered there all the time. But, for some reason, yours felt better, kneading out knots caused by years of non-stop touring. That, along with the soothing scent of lavender on his skin, turned him to putty in your hands.

He might have fallen asleep like that, too, had it not been for you shuffling lower along his thighs, placing yourself within easy reach of the rest of his back. Using every surface of your hands in slow, agonising waves. Up and out, stretching him until he groaned, overcome with sheer bliss.

“I thought this was all about pain,” he said.

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth. “As much as I’d like to smack that glorious bottom of yours, I think you probably deserve this a little bit more. How does it feel?”

“It feels amazing,” he hummed. “I’ll be a new man after this!”

Impatience almost got the better of you the lower down on Roger’s body that you moved. So much so that you had to bypass his bottom altogether to keep yourself on an even keel. As much as you were dying to see him squirm and hear him beg, the buildup was even more critical. So you slipped off the bed and focused on Roger’s legs instead. Soft yet slender in your hands, you worked more oil up his calves and settled on the backs of his knees. Your fingers moved like feathers over those sensitive spots, coaxing a strained whine from Roger as he tried to squirm away from your touch. “If you don’t lie still, I’m going to have to restrain you,” you warned.

The curves of Roger’s back quivered with a sharp intake of breath at those words. Then he relaxed again. But not for long. 

Moving up towards his thighs, you relished that unexpected softness. You weren’t massaging anymore; instead, you pressed the soft flesh, letting it pale underneath your fingertips. Roger’s thigh parted ever so slightly, granting access to the even more sensitive spots between them. His desire skyrocketed, arching his back when you clawed pink tracks up and down his skin.

“You’re getting needy, aren’t you?” you purred.

“Mmhm. Feels so good,” he said, swaying his hips.

“I bet it does.” A swift smack to Roger’s bottom had him rolling over on to his back. His cheeks were flushed and his breaths were cautious. He moved to cover his eyes with his arm but you quickly stopped him. “I want you to look at me.”

Roger’s jaw slackened but never once did his eyes leave you.

For all the effort you had put into loosening Roger up, his body tightened as you curled the fine hairs on his chest around your fingertips. Unable to even breathe, all Roger could do was lie beneath you, and watch.

And you took pleasure in observing his reaction. He adored your touch, you could see it in the way his pupils blew out every time he looked at you or the way his hips rolled up against yours. “I think I’m going to have to keep you still, Roggie,” you said, finally reaching his hips. You quietened down, lowering your voice to barely a whisper. “Would you like that?”

Roger looked like an angel – his beautiful thick eyelashes fluttered while his gaze shifted to you. The calloused pads on his fingers drummed against your stocking-clad thighs, unable to contain any patience he has left. “I think that would be a good idea,” he said with a contented smile.

“You’re smiling now, Roger. You won’t be later,” you said, removing yourself from him. Then you set about looping thick leather straps around his wrists.

His tongue poked out as he watched in awe, following every single one of your movements, binding him to the headboard. Removing all ability for him to get away from your onslaught. The delight in his smile grew when you straddled him again, just below his swollen, throbbing cock.

“Are you enjoying this?” you said, brushing your nails over his length, encouraging his hips to buck and roll into your grasp. 

Roger bit his lip and nodded, allowing himself to be carried away by the much-awaited contact.

A sharp slap to his thigh jolted him back to his senses. “Use your words.”

“Yes, I love it.”

You gave Roger a sly smirk as you reached for the bottle of lube beside him. With the bottle held high, you allowed beads of the clear liquid to drip down. The freezing cold lube colliding with his skin had him straining against the cuffs, but he soon held still. One scalding hot glance from you made sure of that. 

Apparently, he was the rebellious one in Queen, but here he was, docile and pliable. Doing anything to have his balls drained. 

He wasn’t getting his balls drained that easily. 

You used one hand, slipping his length through your grasp. “Let’s lay down some ground rules about how this is going to go, shall we?” you began, punctuating that with another pass over his cock. “You’re not getting off until I say you can. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he sighed, trying to bury the side of his face into the pillow.

You grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “And you’re going to look at me the whole time.”

His voice faltered, glancing down at your hand gathering pace. “Got it.”

“If you come without my permission, you will be punished.”

Roger gulped, casting an eye over to the soft leather paddle beside him. “Will it hurt?”

“Depends on how naughty you are.”

“I promise I’ll be good,” he sighed. “Promise.”

You loomed over Roger, your noses practically touching. “And if you’re good, you’re going to get a little treat.”

“What kind of treat?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Oh god,” he whined just as your free hand joined the party, circling the swollen head of his cock. “I don’t think I’m gonna last long.”

“Well, you had better start begging.”

A laugh rose in Roger’s chest and he did his best a suppressing it enough to strangle out a feeble, “please.” As if that would convince you that he really did need release. 

“I think you’ve got a little bit longer in you,” you said, finding your rhythm. The slick sounds of those smooth, purposeful motions, coupled with Roger lying underneath you, his lips slightly parted as he looked up with you made the heat between your thighs grow. You really wanted him there and then. 

But this wasn’t about you. 

And Roger was fast reaching the end of his rope. 

You swore you had never seen his cheeks so red.

“Please, please please, I need to come!” he whined. “I’m so close! Oh, god, I’ll do anything.”

A dull ache throbbed in your wrists. But you were desperate to draw this out for as long as possible. It wasn’t what you planned, but it guaranteed your chance to push Roger almost to his limit. “Alright, Roggie, come for me.”

“R-really?” he stuttered.

“Come for me. Be a good boy for me.”

“Oh my god,” he grinned. His eyes closed. His hands grasped at the slats on the headboard. He was buckling up for wave after wave of pleasure to surge through him. 

Except the waves didn’t arrive.

Roger’s eyes shot open with a whine. “What the fuck?!” he squeaked. His mind was too blurry to register that you were in the middle of tugging off your underwear. 

Until your dripping wet cunt lingered just inches from his face.

“I just wasn’t convinced that you really wanted to come.”

“Well, I fucking did!” He was testing you. He had to be.

“Oh, really?” Your patience had worn thin. In one swift movement, you turned and plonked yourself down on Roger’s waiting mouth. “Well, fucking prove it. Show me how much you want it.”

Roger wasted no time allowing his tongue to explore every inch of you that his restraints allowed him to reach. He wasn’t even sure if he could get you off like this, but he’d be damned if he didn’t give it his best shot. After all, he was desperate to avoid another ruined orgasm. Ravenous, in fact; sucking and licking at your folds before turning his attention to your clit for a brief moment. And he was sure to let you know just how grateful he was to get to taste you. Every satisfied hum shot through your body, making your hips kick into motion on top of him.

“Finally a good use for that tongue of yours,” you remarked. Leaning forward, you began jacking Roger off again. “Let’s see if you deserve to come this time.”

He sighed against you. He wasn’t about to let another orgasm slip through your fingertips. He had to let you know he wanted it. Eagerly, desperately, his tongue swirled over your clit, gathering its own feverish pace.

Now you started to realise what all the fuss over Roger was about. You had never heard him be so quiet since you met him, and for good reason. He was an expert with his tongue both in an out of the bedroom. 

But you were so fixated on that intoxicating feeling that you neglected your own duties. You looked down to find that your hand was no longer moving along his desperate looking shaft; just idly palming at it. He wasn’t going anywhere with that action.

So you made a conscious effort. Fighting against Roger, you got to work to bring him right to the brink of release. To the point where his moans made you squirm, and the muscles in his thighs tightened again. “Do you want to come for me, Roggie?” you moaned, grinding your cunt against his mouth.

He couldn’t speak. Of course he couldn’t. But that didn’t stop him trying to whine an almost convincing ‘please’ between circling your clit with precision.

“Come on, Roggie, come for me. Come for me,” you urged, grinding your hips with more urgency. 

Just when you were about to allow it, Roger’s attempts at pleasing you stilled. 

Just when he was about to get off, you let go. 

You leaned back and rode Roger’s face. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” you scolded. “Keep going,” you urged. 

Begrudgingly, Roger’s tongue darted over your clit again with the same steady pace in just enough time to stop you from coming down completely. But he made his impatience obvious, angling his hips to lure your attention back to his cock. 

You weren’t going to bow to the pressure right away. 

Why should you? 

When he was this keen to please you, you were hellbent on letting him. 

The sea of pleasure inside you raged. Keeping your balance fast became a chore. You gripped the headboard behind you for dear life, drawing your weight backwards. “God, you’re so good, Roger,” you gasped. “That fucking mouth!” 

Roger moaned against you as you rode his face. He relished this as much as you did. He found himself absolutely addicted to your scent and the sounds you made. The way you moved. 

Hunching over, you gripped Roger’s thighs as your own stiffened on either side of his face. Immobilised by the most intense, soaring bliss you had ever experienced, you were certain you were going to see stars after this. It felt like your body had shut down as it welcomed the electricity that pulsed through you.

Coming down, you were met by the sound of Roger trying to urge you off of him. You didn’t even know how long you had been out for. And here he was just dying to get off. 

How selfish of you to neglect your new little plaything. 

Sitting up straight, still straddling Roger’s face, you inhaled a deep breath in an attempt to gather your composure. Every muscle in your body felt like liquid as you moved, turning yourself around to get a good look at him. 

He looked pleased with himself. His sickeningly pretty features were scarlet and glistened with sweat and arousal and all you wanted to do was kiss him. Just a little taste.

But you couldn’t. Feelings were out of the question.

“I think you really deserve to come, Roger, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he sighed with a soft expression.

“I think you deserve a really, really big reward for being such a good boy,” you teased, swiping your thumb along his lower lip. 

“I do. Thank you.”

Your free hand crept down to Roger’s cock again. Still hard and throbbing. “And you know that I only want to make you feel really really good?” No holds barred.

“Mmmhm.”

“Good boy,” you praised. 

Even hearing that made Roger’s muscles twitch. “You’re not gonna do that to me again, are you?” he asked, squeezing his eyes shut. Bracing himself for disappointment.

“No, darling,” you soothed, “you can come as much as you like now. Any time you like.”

Roger must have sensed the change in your tone when you spoke, because as soon as you gave him permission, his whole body shook and the only words he could manage was a strangled, “thank you!”

He came down quickly; most men did. But what struck him when the fog in his head cleared was that you weren’t done with him just yet – even though he had to crane his neck to see you at the foot of the bed with your tongue gliding over the shaft of his cock.

“Oh fuck,” he sighed, throwing his head back.

“You didn’t think it’d be over that soon, did you? That would’ve been disappointing.”

“No! Just… just be careful!”

You couldn’t resist. You had to make him suffer even just a tiny bit. So, with a devilish smirk, you swirled an excruciatingly slow lap around the tip of his cock, savouring the last drops of cum that glazed it. 

Roger hissed, but his hips told a different story – bucking wildly in time to your efforts. Pressing his cock into your mouth. “Fuck,” he cursed again. 

With one hand, along with your mouth, you settled into another determined rhythm. Your hand worked his shaft, while your tongue tackled just the tip. Roger had surpassed the initial pain and was back to gazing down at you in awe. His teeth clenched together. His wrists tugging at their binds. But the sheer girth of his cock meant that it was only a matter of minutes before a dull ache seeped into your jaw if you so much as attempted to take any more of him in your mouth. 

And it would take longer this time around for him to come. 

Then you spied the bottle of lube nestled against Roger’s hip. The jewel in the crown of your new master plan.

Roger’s cock left your mouth with a pop, just long enough to check in with him before you proceeded. After all, his legs were still wild and free; you didn’t want to risk being kicked in the face. Some men didn’t take well to what you were about to do. “Do you trust me?” you asked, gazing up at him with wild eyes.

“Not gonna lie,” he puffed, “after all of this, I’m starting to have trust issues.” The broad smile he shot you told you he was joking.

You reached for the lube with your free hand and kept your sights trained on him. “I need to hear you say it though. I can’t make you feel really really good if I don’t think your heart’s in it.” He couldn’t see what you were doing, but he did strain to see what the suspicious click was when you opened the bottle and squeezed some lube on to your fingertips. 

“I trust you.”

“Good,” you said, bringing your lips down on to the head of his cock again. Concealing what your free hand was preparing to do. 

When Roger was safely duped into believing that your intentions were genuinely pure, you pressed a finger to his backdoor, massaging his tight, sensitive ring. At the same time, your tongue continued to flutter over the head of his cock. The new sensation had him mewling in delight. You never expected that reaction from him. Even the way he rolled his hips for leverage against your finger. Slowly you eased it inside him, right up to the knuckle. Then you curled it in on itself, seeking out his sweet spot.

“Fuck,” he purred. 

“Feel good?” you asked.

“Better than I thought, god.”

You slipped a second finger inside him, applying just the right amount of pressure for his breathing to labour. Now was the time to take things up a notch. To put on a show for him. Taking as much of Roger’s cock as you could in your mouth, you made a point of making as much noise and as much mess as you could. Your spit made his cock glisten and pass through your lips just that little bit easier. Sometimes it overshot and caught the back of your throat. He seemed to love it when your mascara started to run. 

“I-I think I’m gonna come again,” he groaned. He was beginning to tense up again; everywhere, including around your fingers.

You gave a pleased moan in response, not wanting to let up too soon. 

“Oh, I’m definitely gonna–“

That orgasm had already rolled into another, not allowing Roger any letup. Your hand and your mouth were missing from his cock, but your fingers still pressed up against that one magic spot inside him. His legs continued to spasm alongside your efforts. 

“Got another one in the tank for me?” you grinned.

“I think so,” he gasped.

“I’m gonna take these cuffs off you, Roggie,” you said, scrambling to your knees, fingers still working towards one final explosion of pleasure. “You ready?”

He nodded profusely. “Please.”

With one hand still preoccupied inside Roger, you stretched over him. You swore you felt the tip of his nose caress your chest. Your other hand unbuckled each cuff around his wrists, and, with him being the obedient little submissive he was showing himself to be, his hands didn’t go straight to your waist or your thighs. Instead, they draped delicately above his head with his elegant hands clenching into bony fists.

You stroked his matted, sweat-soaked hair. “One more, darling,” you soothed.

Roger nodded. “One more.”

“Touch yourself for me,” you said, moving backwards to get a better view. 

Roger groaned as his fingers tentatively wrapped around his semi-hard cock.

“That’s it. You look so pretty like this.”

“Fuck,” he whined. The fingers on his other hand raked through his hair, tugging at the roots to get a handle on the stinging sensitivity between his thighs. 

“You can go a little bit faster for me, can’t you?”

“Yes.” He could, but he had to force it. He gritted his teeth and moved his hand quicker, with more purpose. In the back of his mind, he was sure his cock would never work again after this. Certain he never wanted to come again. And he definitely didn’t have enough energy left inside him to coax out another orgasm. But he still wanted to hear you praise him, to tell him how good he looked, jacking himself off right there in front of you. His whole body trembled, and his skin was saturated with sweat. 

“You’re so beautiful Roggie.”

His hand moved a little bit faster. “Thank you.”

Your free hand trailed up his chest towards his neck. “You love coming for me, don’t you?”

Faster still. “Yes.”

You gave it a slight squeeze. Enough to quieten his moans for a moment. “And you love having that gorgeous arse of yours fucked while you do it?”

Even faster, ’til he could barely get the words out. “Mmm, I love it.”

You leaned in close to Roger’s ear. “Next time we do this,” you began, “it won’t be my fingers. I’m not going to go easy on you, Roggie. I’m going to put that tight little arse of yours through its paces and really make you squeal.”

NEXT >>

[choileon]

( ASTORIA TASK #3: ALTERNATE UNIVERSES )

sliding doors ( self-paras )

warnings: death, murder, abuse, blood, violence, imprisonment, pregnancy, bad writing

mentions: zakary prashad, moonji min, minamoto no osamu, aleyna greer

          Has it ever crossed your mind? That perhaps, somewhere else, we all live a different life, with different relationships... in another world? --- Train, 2020.

--- ( universe #1: learn to hate ) ---

Open cell 58!

The clanking sound of the metal gates had always given him a skull-piercing headache. He blamed it on the heavy annulling spells that surrounded the prison. Within each brick on the walls, to the fences around it, lights, windows… everything in there, there was a spell to cancel out everyone’s powers. Vampires had their supernatural strength and speed canceled out. Same for werewolves and shapeshifters. Humans didn’t need spells in the first place, so they didn’t feel any difference.

His block was one designated to violent criminals, and he had to say, he was one of the quiet ones in there. The warlock looked up from the book he’d been reading all week when a guard stepped inside, wearing protective gear that had been magically made to cancel out the annulling spells, thus enabling their powers. It was a smart move, he reckoned. Less dangerous for everyone. Human rights activists were certainly thankful for that—well, human rights was a way of putting it.

The guard prompted him up from his bed with the stern attitude that was required from prison guards anywhere in the world. The warlock rolled his eyes at the demand as he adjusted his glasses and abided to the man’s request, standing up from his bed and stretching out his arms to have his hands cuffed to his ankles. His powers might have been cancelled, but physical assaults were still a thing, and dangerous criminals were usually violent. Many had hit the guards before, so, this was a simple precaution.

He was brought to the visitation room, where other prisoners, each sat on round tables and chat with their loved ones. His eyes landed on a table where a single person sat, staring out at the bars behind the window near him. The same person that stood up when the prisoner approached him.

“Mr. Locke.”

He said, drawing out his hand, to which, the warlock showed his own hands, cuffed together and with a chain tying them to his ankles, making it impossible for him to return the gesture and shake hands.

“Right. Um… my name is Zakary Prashad and I’m a journalist for the Astoria Times.” The journalist produced a business card and slid it across the table, before both him and the warlock sat down. “I’m writing a piece on violent crimes that have happened in Astoria in the last twenty years and was wondering if I could ask you some questions.”

The warlock glanced over at the card, before shifting his gaze up to the journalist and shrugged. “You’re already here, so it’s not like I have a choice, is it?” A smirk appeared on his lips, fingers lacing on the table as he leaned in.

Zakary asked if he could record their conversation, to which he received a positive answer to, and so, he pulled out the little note book he’d carry everywhere, where he’d written some questions and started reading from his own scribbles.

“So… Leon Locke… twelve years ago, you murdered your entire coven in cold blood. Including your parents and sibling. What led you to do it?”

His tongue traced his bottom lip. It was almost as if he could still remember having his face and name covering every newspaper and magazine in the district. The flashes were blinding, mixed with the amount of drugs he had in his bloodstream at the time, they made everything much worse. In a way, it was almost funny that someone had decided to write a piece on him, because, although he was considered himself to be a violent criminal, Leon had never been more at peace than behind those walls. The blood in his hands had been justified. He had the right to do it. They had taken everything from him, he was simply returning the favor.

“I felt like it.”

A short answer, followed by a shrug of his shoulders. That same smirk went back to his lips, as if to pester the journalist.

“Records show that you came to your coven meeting one day, bringing several knives with you and, in a fit of rage, used your powers to kill them all in cold blood. Is that true?” Zakary tried once again.

“If you already have the information, then why are you wasting your time, asking me to tell you what happened?” Leon fired back.

“I wanted to hear your version of it.”

Beside giving his own confession in court, Leon hadn’t had the media approaching him, wanting to know his version of the story. They were all quick to judge, to paint him as a heartless monster, and with all honesty, he couldn’t care less about the titles, but knowing that someone was willing to listen was actually—entertaining.

There was a long pause between Zakary’s words and until Leon decided to share his version of what happened. Enough time for him to think this through and if it was worth going back to that night and reliving all of that once again. He hadn’t thought about that night in a while, so, his memories could be a little hazy. Especially since it had been a drug-induced rage fit.

“People tend to think that my adoptive mother was a saint.” He began. “You know… stellar citizen, bright smile, paid her taxes… all that shit. I guess everyone becomes a saint if they’re murdered… But I don’t remember a single day where that woman didn’t abuse me. Mentally, physically, psychologically… take your pick. For 20 years she was the devil in disguise, offering smiles to others while making me suffer at home.”

He paused, his dark hues moving up to the clock on the wall. They didn’t have much time left, maybe Leon could take advantage of it. Maybe he could just refuse to see Zakary the next time. “I started using drugs to numb the pain. Not the usual legal shit like weed. The heavy stuff so I could pass out and not think about it. Ever tried anything?”

“Can’t say that I have, no.”

Prude. Leon thought to himself.

“This one day, I come home—I was 18, by the way. So, I come home from a late soccer practice and Althea’s talking to her ancestors about how murdering my real parents hadn’t done anything for her yet. How sacrificing them hadn’t given her the power she was promised.” His smirk turned into a thin-lipped, tainting smile to Zakary as Leon tilted his head to the side. “That’s not something one would like to hear, right? So, I started planning to leave that house. I stopped going to coven meetings and became more recluse. I relied more on drugs and less on people. I lost my scholarship to college because I didn’t past the drug test, so of course, they had to notify Althea and her husband. And of course, I was punished for it.”

Leaning over the table, the smirk was back on his lips.

“Would you like the details of how she hexed me?” Although he asked, Leon didn’t leave much room for an answer. “One day, two years later, I finally gave in. It was a full moon… one that messed up with the witches’ powers, so that, mixed with the drugs?” He whistled, in order to illustrate his feelings. “I finally exploded…”

He let out a dark chuckle as he stared at his hands, as if he could feel that same power emanating from his fingertips. Flashes of that night filled his mind. The glory and gore of that night and the relief he felt while energy was pulsating through his veins. He could feel their blood splatting on his skin, painting him red while he screamed in anger. In agony.

One of the guards pulled him up, also pulling Leon out of his trance while announcing that visitation time was over.

“Yeah, I killed them all…” Leon said while looking at Zakary, a teasing smirk toying on his fleshy lips. “And you know what—I don’t regret any of it.” He leaned in so that only the journalist would hear it, before the guard pulled him away.

“Come back next week!” He shouted, while being dragged out of the visitation room. “Don’t miss me too much!”

--- ( universe #2: wrong side of heaven ) ---

There were too many people crying around him. He needed a break.

That was what Leon told himself as he stepped out of the wake room and headed outside for a minute. At least, the sounds of a busy Seoul would help him keep his mind on track. The striped band on his right arm, indicating he had lost someone and was in mourning, made people bow in respect whenever they walked past him. Sure, Leon appreciated the gesture, but it wasn’t like he was sad. In so many ways, he was thankful for the loss of his mother. The old woman was becoming more of a nuisance in her old days, than anything else. His father, far too busy juggling between guiding a coven and taking care of his senile wife to care about how Leon led his life, nor how dark magic was still a constant in their lives. Despite all it had taken in order to restore the balance of nature.

Leon took a drag from his cigarette, then tugging on the sleeve of his perfectly tailored suit while his eyes observed the movement of the city. Fast-paced cars, people coming and going as the lights went from red to green, then red again. He had come a long way since his childhood in Busan. A time where feelings were still present in his life. Now, he walked around Seoul as an empty shell, all thanks to the years of dealing with dark magic. He had never intended to start meddling with it. Not really. But from watching his mother practice it, he became curious. When the darkness lured him in, the tempting claws making offers he couldn’t deny, Leon didn’t resist.

It had given him everything in this world: power, influence, more money, coven members that followed him blindly as if he was some sort of god instead of his own head priest… but it had stripped him naked from harboring any feelings or dealing with emotions, which, the way he saw it, was nothing in comparison to what he’d gained. At least it had kept his sanity and youth, which was more than he could say for his mother, who decayed in months what most people did in decades.

The future was going to present him with a coven that Leon wasn’t certain he wanted in the first place. Sure, Leon was a natural-born leader, but his ideals were far from what most witches in his father’s coven wanted to hear. Now, he thought more of himself as a one-man army, rather than anything else. Chances were, he would most likely end up dissolving his father’s coven. Like mentioned before, most witches didn’t exactly agree with his thoughts, and the ones he found that actually agreed on witches being superior beings, turned out to be as greedy as him, which—was something Leon didn’t have time to waste with. Not when it meant what it usually did: a childish fight to decide who was the most powerful witch. He had no quarrel with fellow witches and their agenda of who’s coven was the most powerful. His problem was with humans. The ones that had burned his ancestors at the stake and forced his kind to live in secrecy.

Evolution, like one of their humans had presented so magnificently, was about the survival of the fittest. Evolution had given witches powers for a reason, to place them above any puny human, so how dare they think of themselves as the ones who should be out there, enjoying their lives while the witches hid in fear for their lives and practiced their magic in secrecy? Yes, Leon had found it fair to take matters into his own hands, thus carrying a lot of blood in them, but, the way he presented his case to his coven members whenever the topic would surface, had painted him as their hero and not a murderer. Why should they be the ones suffering? Magic ran in their veins, it made them three steps above humans. Like they should have always been. Why should they be the ones fighting for their lives? Humans shoulder fear witches, not the other way around.

“Yeobo.”

A voice pierced through his thoughts and it made Leon clench his jaw as the woman wrapped her arms around his middle and searched for his eyes. His mother’s last wish, was for him to marry a nice woman in order to continue their family’s legacy, and despite having done what she had asked for, Leon felt nothing for this woman. She was nice. Beautiful, smart, very interested and invested in the coven… He could see she cared for him, loved him even, which almost made him wish he cared enough to want her to find someone more suitable, someone who would reciprocate her love, but said feeling was not there.

“Are you okay? Abeonim is asking about you.”

“I came out to smoke. I’ll be there soon.”

His wife planted a kiss on his cheek and returned to the funeral home. Leon stayed outside just long enough to take a last drag of his cigarette, before dropping it to the ground and smashing it with the sole of his shoe.

On his way back, he walked past another wake room. The commotion inside made him stop and look in. People were crying… louder than he wanted them to. Older people were always so loud, weren’t they? Death was an inevitable part of life. Plus, it wasn’t like the veil was thick enough that they had to scream like that.

Inside, a younger woman held onto an older one. The loud old lady.

The sign outside read Min Moon Bin. A name he’d never heard before, but then again, Leon couldn’t know everyone in Seoul. On one corner another young woman was curled up crying. She looked more exhausted than most in that room. A smiling face on that picture frame, was surrounded by flowers. The man had died young—he couldn’t have been older than Leon. Actually, he didn’t even look the warlock’s age. Leon, despite not being an empath, could feel the love filling the room. A mix of love and sadness.

The woman that had been holding onto someone that seemed to be her mother, acknowledged his presence by the entrance. She asked her father to come to her mother’s aid and approached Leon. Her eyes were red from crying, he noticed, but her face didn’t look wet. She had probably cried in secrecy, away from the crowd. For a brief second, he wondered if that made her feel better, before the thought dissipated in his mind.

“Thank you for coming.” She bowed, and Leon arched one brow. The fact that she was assuming he knew the deceased, was hilarious. Yet, he bowed as well, mostly out of respect. “Were you friends with my brother?”

“We worked together.”

He lied. Nobody ever really ask questions whenever work was involved. Especially family. One’s family almost always knew what they did for a living anyway. Plus, lying came so easy to him, that Leon almost believed himself.

“Oh…” The brunette paused. Leon was ready to give a random excuse and leave when she continued. “So… were you there when he had his accident?”

Work-related accident. Color him curious.

“No. I was traveling abroad.”

Another pause. Silence. 

He needed to leave. This was too suffocating.

“I—”

“I’m Moonji.” They spoke at the same time and Leon decided to let her continue before he gave an excuse and left. She didn’t feel like a witch. Definitely supernatural, though. “I was his older sister.”

“Choi Lee Ahn.”

He offered one hand, the other touching his stomach from over his clothes, as a sign of respect. Once Moonji let go of his hand, Leon fished his phone from inside his pocket, thankful that it had started vibrating a couple of seconds ago and it provided him the perfect excuse to leave. The warlock waved the gadget at the brunette, pointing towards the exit before he stepped away to take the phone call.

It was his wife, once again looking for him.

Back in his own crowded wake room, Leon could definitely use a drink. He was about to head towards the eating area to open a bottle of soju when he felt someone touching his shoulder, prompting him to turn around.

“Excuse me.” Moonji said, as she pointed towards the band on his arm. “I just wanted to say... I’m sorry for your loss, too. You left before I could say anything.”

“Ah…” He replied, gaze going to his arm as well. “Thank you.”

Silence yet again. People were so exhausting to him. Strangers even more so. He just wanted his drink.

“You should go. I’m sure your family misses you.”

As rude as that might have been, Leon also knew that in times like these, people were far too inclined to offer a helping hand and well—he wasn’t in need. Death wasn’t as bad as people painted it out to be, and for someone like him, it was barely felt. Yet, Leon knew that for the world, he needed to keep on acting like he was affected by it. When he died, he knew many would miss him. Life in society had given him a wife, co-workers, a coven. Plus, he knew how to be charismatic enough to leave his mark in people’s life. Hopefully, none of these people would make a scene at his funeral, but he knew he would be missed. What difference that piece of knowledge had in his life? None whatsoever.

With that thought in mind, he popped open a bottle of soju, pouring himself a glass.

--- ( universe #3: beyond ) ---

It had been a busy day to Leon. From dealing with a minor crisis at the clinic first thing in the morning, to commuting all the way to Hull’s Island to pay his parents a visit, arriving home felt like a reward for such an eventful and emotionally charged day. It was his turn to buy dinner, but with his head about to explode, Leon figured they could just order something later that night.

The ring around his finger hung heavy that evening for some unknown reason and, as he made his way further inside his house, walking past several picture frames symbolizing his life achievements, that feeling slowly dissipated. From college graduations, to vacations with friends, coven meetings, witches’ celebrations, as well pictures from his wedding day, it was odd to think that Leon had everything he’d ever ask for and so much more. As respectable job, loyal friends, a loving wife who knew how to call him out when he was in the wrong, two adorable little cats who were probably hiding out somewhere in the house… all of it dawned upon him as some sort of gift. Maybe it was life’s way of paying him back for doing what he did all those years ago.

Upon calling out for his wife, the warlock was brought to the master suite, where her voice guided him to the bathroom. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her in the bathtub, extending an invitation to join her. Knowing himself, Leon was well aware that he could never say no to her, so, once he’d gotten rid of his clothes, he sat behind her, his arms immediately wrapping around her petite frame.

“How are they?”

She asked, resting her cheek against his arm, while Leon gently pushed her hair away in order to plant kisses along her shoulder.

“I’m not sure… I mean, as well as one would possibly be in prison, I guess.”

Most days, Leon still struggled to decide whether he still felt guilty about being the one to call the authorities on his parents or not. Ever since they had moved to Astoria, when he was still a child, Leon had witnessed both of his parents practicing dark magic. Much of it happened during his childhood, so it made sense that he wouldn’t remember it. He even thought they had stopped, that they wouldn’t be crazy enough to move to a country that treats practicing dark magic as a crime, and still practice it. However, when he realized that his parents had continued to consistently breaking the law, Leon was old enough to know right from wrong, thus, reporting his parents to the police and watching as they landed in jail this day, ten years ago.

His lips brushed softly against her skin, caressing her shoulders with their light touch.  His hands traveled downward, resting on her growing bump, yet another shift in his reality, but one Leon welcomed happy. The baby she had been expecting hadn’t been at all planned. Knowing of his wife’s lack of desire to be a mother, Leon was just as surprised as she was when she mentioned being late. At first, there was confusion and desperation on both sides, but Leon figured that the burden was heavier for her. Communication was essential, and Leon was glad that he was able to make her know that no matter what, he would support any decision of hers. He’d never had strong wishes to become a parent either, but, in his mind, the difference between them was that unlike his wife, he wouldn’t say no if the chance presented itself.

Well, in the end, she ended up getting cold feet on their drive to Planned Parenthood a few months ago, and they eventually decided to keep the baby. In the end, they both accepted their reality when parenthood presented itself. They were happy without a child, and they could be happy with one too… it wasn’t like they were bad people to begin with. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t give their best.

“Don’t be mad, but…”

Leon began, and his wife was quick to complete his sentence.

“…But you forgot to buy dinner.”

His wife turned her head in order to face him, rolling her eyes playfully when their gaze met. The small gesture causing his heart to skip a beat while he traced patterns over her bump.

“I’m sorry. I’ll order something once we leave here, okay? Any special requests? What are you in the mood for?”

“Hmm… definitely something cheesy.” Scrunching her nose at him, she continued, leaning up to press a kiss on his lips. “Like you.”

Leon couldn’t help but to chuckle at her joke. He was a little cheesy, there was no way of denying that… his wedding vows would know. But he didn’t think it was that bad to be this open about his feelings and about how much he loved this woman. He’d give her the world if that’s what she wanted. They’d been married for a couple of years, dated for even longer, so he would take it as a sign that she didn’t mind his cheesy ways either. In order to get revenge for the joke, however, Leon took advantage of his hand’s positions and started tickling her for a brief moment. He lived for moments like these, where her laugh would echo through a room and recharge his dying batteries. Or simply… whenever they got to spend a moment in each other’s company, just sharing ideas about which part of the house they should renovate next or talking nonsense together.

The clinic he worked at was doing some renovations, so Leon was often updating her on its progress, as well as on the progress of a little Boston Terrier’s recovery that had been rescued from a situation of abuse and was being treated by Osamu, one of his co-workers. Whenever he could, Leon sent her pictures of him (the dog, not Osamu) and if it wasn’t for the baby growing in her womb, he was sure that the puppy would end up being adopted by them once he was ready to be adopted. They were already so invested in him... Sadly, they had different priorities at the moment, but hey—they would survive. For now, they were fine just looking at pictures. Leon also let her in on what had happened at the clinic earlier that day because during his lunch break, he hadn’t been able to give her much details on it. But these three cats had been brought in after being rescued from a house fire, and Leon, being as soft for cats as he was, of course felt like his energy had been quickly drained.

His wife left the bathtub before Leon did. Choosing to stay back for a few minutes more, Leon tried to make sense out of how he felt after visiting his parents in prison. He had made a habit out of it, but not one that would make him feel bad. Every year, not necessarily on that same day, he’d pay them a visit to see how they were doing. Now, without the temptations of dark magic surrounding them, they could understand why Leon had done it. Apparently, there was some sort of group counselling in prison, too. It helped lessen his burden, but in all honesty, it would never be easy to carry the weight of knowing you had been responsible for the imprisonment of one’s parents. With a sigh and once he was ready, Leon dried himself and wrapped a towel around his middle and made his way to the master bedroom.

His arms went around her petite frame again, taking in the scent of her exposed skin. Leon knew he wouldn’t be able to be where he was without her. No big sacrifices had been made in order for them to work, but he knew not to take for granted her constant support, especially when it came to sharing his burdens with her. It was something he did with hers as well, but Leon could only speak for himself.

Turning her around to face him, Leon offered her a small smile as he brushed her dark strands behind her ear. The light pink in her cheeks making him wonder if she was blushing or if she was just feeling hot due to her body’s adjustments to the new life it was carrying.

“Have I told you how much I love you, Aleyna?”

“Hm. How much do you love me?”

She was trying to act casual. Unbothered, even. Rolling her eyes and trying not to laugh at his antics, having known this type of conversation for a while now. It was actually pretty common between them. Common enough for Aleyna to know how to respond to it already.

“Ah… to the moon and back.” He said and she nodded, waving her hand at him as if asking for more examples. “As much as the stars in the sky.”

Finally, Aleyna scrunched her nose, sticking her tongue out at his response. She did say she wanted something cheesy.

“I love you more than I love our cats.”

“Right. Now I believe you.”

Ally chuckled, patting lightly on his chest as she tried to get away from his grasp, but Leon kept her from doing so. Crouching down a little, his arms went behind her thighs and he picked her up. One arm adjusted around her back, while the other guided one leg around his waist, hoping the other would follow. The motion caused his towel to drop to the floor, but he paid no mind to it. The walk to their bed was too short for him to care. Laying her down, he hovered on top of her.

“Are you happy?” Aleyna questioned while Leon caressed her hair.

He didn’t answer it at first. For a long time, it was hard for Leon to understand what happiness truly meant. For a long time, he didn’t know if he would ever be. Maybe life would find a way of punishing him for doing what he did to his parents. Was he a bad son? And if he were, what kind of parent would that make him? Time showed that it was possible to be happy. That he had a good life. Time had given him friends, his pets, a family in Aleyna and now, a baby. But was he happy?

“I am.”

Leon nodded slowly, ducking his head to rest his forehead against hers.

“I am. I really am. Are you?”

With that, he pulled away so he could look into her eyes. Aleyna made a silly face, pressing her lips together and crinkling her nose as she held her index finger and thumb at a short distance from one another.

“A little?” He replied with humor filling his voice, moving up to his knees in the space between her thighs and leaning down to press a kiss on her lips. “Just a little?” Leon teased, mimicking the motion of her fingers, before stealing another kiss. “I guess I should work harder then, right?” With that, he tugged on her legs, pulling her downward on the mattress and closer to him. A chuckle left his lips and was muffled by hers as he deepened their kiss. 

Dinner could wait a little more.

[aurora-the-kunoichi]

A Year Without – Part Eight

The green drained from his horrified face as realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Leonardo leaned back on his haunches watching as his wilting cock slipped free from your body while the pearlescent remanence of his climax followed after, seeping to the cold metal table below. His hands clenched into tight fists refusing to meet your haunted gaze still glazed over from your own release. You could feel his body start to shake above you as his mind raced with thoughts and came to terms with what was happening. “I-I’m sorry Y/N, I don’t….” his voice faded giving up and reached down fumbling for his pants.

After shoving himself back into his underwear Leonardo reached for your hands pulling frantically at the leather cuffs keeping you in place. Clumsily your hands were freed and Leonardo moved to release your legs but stopped at the obscene noises rising in volume on the opposite side of the room.

Leo knew the sounds his brothers made, knew them all too well due to living in close quarters with them all their life.  So when he heard the three of them grunting and grumbling half hearted protests just to the right of him it distracted Leo from the heart wrenching sight beneath him.

Looking up, the blue terrapin’s body went rigid but his fingers finished their work on your restraints seeming on auto pilot. He growled deep in his chest seeing Karai kneeling before his brothers, mouth around Raphael’s length and slender fingers stroking frantically at his two younger brother’s erections. The doctor he had met a year ago sat patiently on the side lines gripping three syringes filled with an unknown substance no doubt prepared specially for his three unsuspecting brothers. They were about to do to them what they had done to him a year ago, ruining his life and taking him away from all he knew.  

As if to make the situation worse, Raph’s breathing hitched and growled erupting into the warm cavern of Karai’s mouth which she eagerly drank his down, her throat constricting with each rush of his scorching release. Seconds after, Donnie and Mikey arched following suit coating the floor below them with the white flood of their cum.  

In that instant something snapped inside of the mutant. “KARAI!” Leonardo bellowed dropping from the table barreling towards the shocked kunoichi as she detached herself from his muscle-bound brother with a sloppy pop.

Her eyes hazy with lust it took her a few moments to comprehend what was happening. As if in slow motion she saw the nearly seven foot raging freight train that was Leonardo gunning for her with death and fury in his eyes. It was then she realized he was free of their control and her demise was imminent.

The Doctor yelped in shock as he was bypassed by a whirling green blur stumbling sideways keeping the precious serum clutched in his hands.

Karai tried to dodge the furious terrapin but he was too fast and didn’t move in time finding herself pinned to the ground and her supply of oxygen cut off by Leonardo’s unwavering grip. The massive weight of him settled over the stunned kunoichi pressing his thumbs down against her larynx.

“Achckk….inject h-him again you fool!” Karai managed to cough to the stunned doctor.

Dr Langston snapped from his confusion and fumbled forward yanking the protective slip off the syringe and lunged forward aiming the needle at the dense muscles of Leonardo’s neck.

By now you had recovered and dropped down from the table to see the doctor lunging for Leo. You were still naked from the waist down, only your bra keeping your upper body partially covered and you could feel the warm slid of Leo’s essence slipping down your inner thigh. But there was no time to worry about that now. A quick shot of adrenaline raced through you seeing Leonardo about to be ripped away from you again and your feet moved launching yourself at the preoccupied doctor about to give Leo another shot of blind obedience.

You collided with the doctor making him unsteady on his feet dropping all the vials in his arms to the floor. Arms flailing, you took advantage and climbed up on his back and hooked one arm around his throat and locked the wrist with your other hand applying pressure to his neck cutting off his oxygen supply.

Dr Langston gasped for air clawing at your arms trying to pry your grip free bucking and writhing with panic. But you held tight as Leo continued to assault the struggling kunoichi oblivious to the danger he was just in. He was focused on Karai, one of the people who ruined his life, took away everything took his honor and molested his brothers. You couldn’t see his face but you knew he intended on killing her.

As Dr Langston struggled to free himself of you, you could hear metal jingling in his pockets. Keys, they had to be to the guys restraints. You had to release Langston and knock him out so you could free the turtles but you were just too weak. It had been days since your last meal or had anything to drink, hell you were surprised you still had the good doctor in a firm headlock. You were obviously running on pure adrenaline but it wouldn’t last forever.  

“Leo!” you screamed out trying to break him of his concentration. You couldn’t do this on your own; you were slowly losing your grip. “Leo, please I need you, your brothers need you.” You could see Karai’s face just over the raging turtles shoulder, purple and bloated as the deprivation of oxygen took its toll. She had been unsuccessful in ridding herself of her new sex toy hell-bent on her destruction and she would pay the ultimate price for it.

Her body finally gave out passing out in Leo’s still constricting grip determined to end her life.

“LEO!” your grip slipped and you were thrown against the wall next to Michelangelo cracking the side of your head on the cement wall. Mikey called for you, or at least you think he was or was he screaming for his brother to snap out of it. All you knew was that your head felt like someone had cracked open your skull and set a blender to your brain. You were now seeing two of everything. “H-He has the keys in his pockets.” You croaked stumbling to your feet holding your screaming skull in your hands.

The doctor righted himself and gathered the prepared syringe and made a stab at the leader in blue. As his hand reached the green flesh of Leo’s neck the terrapin rolled to his right missing the point of the needle by millimeters. Karai’s body slumped to the ground motionless now free of the mutants hands but now the doctor was in Leonardo’s sights.  

“You!” he bellowed taking large strides towards the retreating man. “You ruined my life! You ruined me, stripping me of my honor! I am no longer worthy of my title!” the glimmer of unshed tears damned at the corners of his eyes threatening to spill with each step.

“The keys bro, he has the keys!” Raph screamed over Leo’s ranting.

Leo’s head tilted toward his brothers listening and returned his angry gaze to the white coat the doctor wore. Too fast to comprehend, Leonardo shot forward tackling the doctor and ripped at the pockets on his lab coat. “Release my brothers!”

His green fingers found the silhouette of the keys inside a side pocket and ripped them free tearing the fabric open in one fluid motion. “I won’t let you do to them what you did to me! I’ll die first!” His fingers full of metal, Leo pulled his fist back and swung forward connecting with the dense skull of the doctor sending him into unconsciousness. Leo sat there for a few seconds as his chest heaved for air trying to get himself back under control.

Just then the door burst open and several foot ninja filtered into the room circling the kneeling terrapin. Leo turned to see you on your feet and threw the keys at you before barreling forward into the hoard of ninjas toppling over several with his bulk alone.  

The clutch of keys hurdled towards your face and thankfully you caught them in one midair grab. Turning to Mikey you made quick eye contact with his baby blues and anxiously freed his limbs. When his hands came free he stuffed himself back into his pants, ripped his hoodie from his hips handing the garment to you and ran towards the fray ready to fight again with his brother.

The orange hoodie hooked over your fingers you watched the youngest of the four crouch down and jump sailing over the fight landing in the middle, his fists swinging wildly.

“Come on Y/N, Don and I are ready for some pay back.” Raph growled urging you to continue.

Tying the given hoodie around your waist sideways doing your best to cover yourself from prying eyes you stepped forward reaching for Raphael’s restraints. Your eyes kept above the waist on the brute as you unlocked his shackles; his scent was still strong in the air and it was very distracting.  

Rubbing his sore wrists he put himself away and gripped your arms gently, “Are you alright?”

You nodded unable to meet his gaze and pushed his towards the fight, “I’m fine, I’ll set Donnie free, you go help make sure we get to take Leo home tonight.”

Without a word the brute grunted turning on the balls of his feet and launched himself into the brawl screaming as he collided with three foot ninjas.

Donnie was next and his sad brown eyes watched as you released him. His limbs came down and pulled you in his embrace quickly holding you for a few tense moments before heading off to help his brothers.

With all of them free and fighting to gain freedom you dropped the keys to your feet and felt yourself start to tremble. Fatigue started to set in and your limbs felt so heavy, you just wanted to sleep. You wanted this nightmare over with; you wanted Leo and his brother’s home safe and sound with everything going back to normal. But how unhinged Leonardo seemed horrid animalistic growls ripping from his throat as he fought, you knew it was going to be a long time before normalcy would return to the lair, or maybe it would never return?

Just then Leonardo looked up from the brawl making sure you were still there and his blue eyes blew wide and his mouth opened screaming your name. Dread filled your veins seeing him so terrified, it only meant one thing.  You sensed her before her hands found purchase around your waist and the cold press of sharp metal made itself known against your carotid artery.

“S-stop fighting o-or I spill every drop of her blood at my feet!” Karai’s voice was horse and weak but her grip was as strong as ever.

Part Seven

 @blossom-skies @moonlightflower21 @midnightrebel669 @imthegreenfairy88 @southernblossoms @naturigurl and all the nonnies!

[kurokoros]

Focal Point | Part Four

Title: Focal Point

Rated: M (language, smut, references to past violence)

Words: 10.7K

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Jones!OC

Summary: Jubilee stares at him in disbelief, mouth opening and closing though no words come out. A dozen emotions flicker in her eyes as she takes in what he’s said, but they pass too quickly for him to register anything but her confusion. Eventually, she crosses her arms, leaning back in the booth, quirking a brow at him. “You want me to pose for you,” she repeats slowly, absolutely bewildered by the request. “Naked.”

Sweet Pea wets his lips, mirroring her pose, looking far too calm for the request that just came out of his mouth. His eyes meet hers, throat bobbing with a harsh swallow, and she’s relieved to see a flicker of nerves in his eyes. “Yeah.”

College!AU in which Art Major Sweet Pea needs a nude model for an assignment. He decides to ask his best friend.

Chapters: One | Two  | Three | Four | Epilogue

AN: This is going to be a three four part fic (now with a short epilogue!) that’s part of my extended College!Verse Like the Kids in Art School Said! It should be updated every Thursday until complete assuming nothing comes up in my personal life! Inspired by @sweetpeasbabydoll wanting an artist Sweet Pea au with him doing a nude portrait!

The first two hours go surprisingly well.

Sweet Pea isn’t entirely sure what he was expecting. Hormones. A raging hard-on. The two of them being too awkward for this to work at all and him being too distracted by her sudden nudity to do anything but stare. But it’s not nearly as awkward as it should be, and that might be the bigger problem.

At first, he tried to keep his eyes off her as much as possible once his brain caught up with the fact that Jubilee was naked and waiting for his instructions, a task made even more difficult thanks to his conversation with the guys earlier this morning. He’s long come to terms with his feelings, and their kiss last night is still fresh in his mind, but now isn’t the time to drag up buried feelings and drunken kisses.

He just hopes he can get through this without saying or doing anything stupid.

Working with Jubilee is easier than he thought it would be—easier than it should be. They’ve always been a good team, no matter what they were doing, and so far nude modeling is no exception to that. The first few minutes involved some awkward floundering as she moved into a position that worked for him but wouldn’t be too uncomfortable for her to hold for an hour or two, with Sweet Pea trying not to stare at her chest as she shifted around on the couch across from him.

If he didn’t know better, he would think she was doing it on purpose just to fuck with him.

His brain practically short-circuited when she asked how he wanted to do this—“Where do you want me, Sweets?”—and it’s a little embarrassing how long it took for him to respond. He’s just lucky he didn’t stutter when he told her to get on the couch. And he’s even luckier that he managed to swallow back a groan when she did exactly what he asked, her eyes never once leaving his.

Sweet Pea might be wrong about saying there was nothing sexy about figure drawing. There was definitely some subtle, uncomfortable shifting in those first few minutes from his end. It’s a miracle that Sweet Pea managed to keep his more inappropriate thoughts locked away as he started the sketch. It certainly wasn’t easy though. Between the way Jubilee kept looking at him and the utterly shameless way she stripped down for him, he’s lucky that uncomfortable shifting was the worst of it.

Though, that might say more about Jubilee than it does figure drawing.

They settled on a classic Titanic style pose. Simple and easy. Not original, but it meets the task at hand. Jubilee stretched across the couch with her left arm draped over her head on the armrest and her right hand nestled next to her cheek, her fingers curled slightly. Fangs will probably give him hell for it later when he inevitably finds out, but Sweet Pea couldn’t help but notice how much softer she looked like that.

Sweet Pea kept to his promise of not being a silent artist and the conversation has been steady since he started working. It’s always easy with Jubilee. Sometimes more than it should be. After a while, they both settled into their spots and he was sucked into the drawing, letting the motions take over.

Despite her taking the initiative earlier, it took Jubilee a little longer to relax. She was stiff at the start, unsure where to put her arms, but seemed to shake it off once he started talking to her.

Soon, it starts to feel like any other Saturday afternoon. Sweet Pea works on his project. Jubilee curls up on his couch and enjoys the quiet and lack of roommates. He’s almost able to forget that she’s naked. Almost, but not quite.

It’s a little difficult to forget that important detail when he starts to work lower on the drawing and the little details of her skin start to appear on the paper in front of him. Jubilee’s clothes are still scattered across his floor and he keeps getting distracted every time she shifts and her dark hair tickles at her skin.

He’s torn between his professionalism and his feelings for Jubilee and one of them is going to give before the night is over.

“—and that’s why Fangs and I almost got arrested in Cancun,” he finishes, pausing in his drawing when her shoulders shake with laughter. Despite his and Fangs promise to never discuss the details of that night, she finally managed to weasel it out of him. Fangs won’t be happy about it, but the fond amusement swirling in Jubilee’s eyes is worth it.

“I can’t believe you two.” Jubilee shakes her head and snorts, but falls still again a moment later.

Sweet Pea finishes the detail of the thin, nearly invisible scar on her hairline before he glances at her over the top of his sketchbook. “What was I supposed to do?” he asks her, grinning when her lips twitch upwards. “The guy attacked me!”

Jubilee scoffs at him as her head tilts towards the hand lying on the pillow beside her face. “He threw a piñata,” she corrects him simply, still trying to wrap her head around the nonsense story.

“Same thing.”

“So you pulled out a samurai sword? Where did you even find one of those?”

Sweet Pea’s gaze flicks up to meet hers before he traces the curve of her neck with his eyes, adding definition to the rough sketch in front of him. “I thought it was fake,” he reminds her.

Her collarbones take shape on the paper and for a moment he allows his eyes to wander down to the tattoo on her ribcage, nestled just behind her breast. It’s just a splash of blue and lavender against her skin and he’d think it was a bruise if he didn’t know better.

He rips his eyes away from the tattoo when she says, “I can’t leave you two anywhere, can I?” Sweet Pea’s eyes slide back to hers and his heart swells when he sees the familiar, fond look in her eyes.

Sweet Pea turns back to his sketchbook just as quickly. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry. “You know us,” he jokes, “always getting in trouble.” Jubilee hums her agreement and he can’t help glancing at her again. “And you could have come with us.”

“And be a fugitive in a foreign country?” Jubilee asks him teasingly. “I’ll pass.” She grins at him and he shakes his head.

They lapse into comfortable silence for a minute as Sweet Pea tries to get the tiny details of the spatter of freckles beneath her collarbone just right.

Sweet Pea’s eyes immediately find Jubilee’s when he looks up again and for a moment he lets himself drown in them. His hand falters for a second, his pencil hovering just above the half-finished drawing. “So,” he starts, clearing his throat, “what are your plans after this?”

Jubilee’s eyes narrow just a tick and she purses her lips. “Tonight?” she asks him slowly, hesitating for a moment. “Or…”

He nearly swears when he catches the implication. “Graduation,” he corrects quickly, avoiding her gaze as his face heats up. “It’s coming up quick. You haven’t said anything about it.”

“Good question.” Jubilee wiggles her fingers idly before taking her bottom lip between her teeth and biting down on it. Sweet Pea stares as she rolls it between her teeth, his mouth suddenly dry. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“What?” he jokes, shaking away the thought of taking her lip between his own teeth and making her moan, “no big plans with your literature degree?” He quirks a brow at her and Jubilee rolls her eyes.

“Shut up. You sound like my dad.” Sweet Pea chuckles and Jubilee sighs as she relaxes back against the couch. “I’ll figure it out eventually.”

A smile tugs at his mouth. “I know you will.”

“And what about you?” she asks. “Any big plans after this, or are you going the starving artist route?”

He rolls his eyes, but grins at her teasing. Art as a career might not be the most stable thing, but Sweet Pea knows his friends and the other Serpents will support him no matter what he chooses to do. They got him this far after all. He just doesn’t want to let them all down like he did before.

Sweet Pea’s smile fades as his thoughts drift to the Serpents and his last conversation with FP over winter break. “Your dad offered me a job actually.” Jubilee’s brows knit together in confusion. “Hog Eye’s looking to retire. They need someone to run the Wyrm when he does.”

“What about your art?”

“There’ll be time for that when I’m not working the bar.” It rings hollow even to him and Jubilee’s frown deepens.

“I thought you didn’t want to bar-tend anymore,” she murmurs just loud enough for him to hear.

He shrugs. “It pays the bills. It’s stable. And I’m good at it.” Jubilee hums her agreement but doesn’t say anything. Sweet Pea’s hand stills and he stares at the half-finished sketch in front of him, tracing the fine lines with his eyes. “So I’m thinking about asking Micah for an apprenticeship once we go back to Riverdale.”

Jubilee is quiet for a moment. “Tattoos? Now that I can see.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re good with your hands,” she tells him. Sweet Pea snorts, shaking his head, and she laughs. “So why haven’t you asked him yet?”

“Not sure if it’s right, you know? Tattooing, it’s…” he trails off, unable to find the right word. “Delicate,” he decides on as he meets Jubilee’s eyes. “It’s easy to fuck it up.”

As usual, Jubilee sees right through him. “It makes you nervous.” She doesn’t move from her pose save for the slight downward curl of her lips, but that’s all he needs to know exactly what she’s thinking.

He laughs, ignoring the heavy look in her eyes. “Something like that.” Sweet Pea starts detailing her hair, falling in messy waves around her face, taking care to capture each strand as it falls around her.

They lapse into silence again as he gets sucked into the sketch, each stroke of his pencil more delicate than the last. Eventually, Jubilee asks, “so how many times have you done this?”

“Nude drawings?” Her head gives the slightest of nods and he hesitates before drawing the wayward strands of hair tickling the side of her neck. The small, red marks that he left last night have long since disappeared, but he can still taste her on his lips and hear her little gasps in his ears. Sweet Pea grits his teeth, shifting on the stool uncomfortably. “A couple times,” he answers vaguely, forcing his eyes not to wander further down her neck and trying to keep his thoughts from straying somewhere they shouldn’t. “I took that class on it before, but we only had one drawing session per week. Fangs and Archie ended up modeling for the class and I very seriously considered dropping both of my majors.” Sweet Pea glances at her, catching the slight quirk of her lips. “If I ever have to see Archie’s abs again, I think I might rip my eyes out.”

She giggles. “And do you like it? Figure drawing?”

“It’s okay,” he tells her.

It’s not a real answer. Not really, anyway, but it’s as close as he can get to one. Because he likes the intimacy of it, how different it feels from any other form of art he’s tried, but he’s not sure if he actually likes drawing people he barely knows when they’re naked. He can appreciate the form, but it’s the vulnerability that really gets to him, and he’s never been sure if he likes being that open and honest with his work.

Jubilee makes it different though. The amount of trust she has in him has always surprised him. Even after he let her down when they were younger, she’s always trusted him enough to be vulnerable around him, to let him protect her. And she makes him vulnerable too.

“Jubilee.” He doesn’t look at her as he speaks, gaze locked on the delicate curve of her neck etched into his sketchbook. “Thanks for doing this. You’re a good friend.” He doesn’t catch the way she stiffens as he talks, or the way her breathing hitches. “You know,” he chuckles, not thinking as the words tumble out of his mouth, “I’m really glad Fangs said no when I went to ask him to model for me this morning. You’re a hell of a lot prettier than him.”

The grin on his face disappears as soon as he glances up at her. Jubilee has gone still, her entire body tense. The small smile that’s been tugging at her lips since they started is gone, but that’s not what makes him freeze. It’s the raw, open hurt that flickers in her eyes for a just a second.

“So that’s why you practically ran out of here this morning.” A breathless, bitter laugh escapes Jubilee. “You were asking Fangs to—” She shakes her head before breaking her position and sitting up. “God, I’m an idiot.” She doesn’t look at him as she stands from the couch. “Shit.”

Sweet Pea watches in confusion as she scoops up her clothes off the floor. He sets his pencil down and stands from the stool slowly. “Jubilee, what do you—”

“You know what?” she cuts him off, still not looking at him as she shimmies her panties up over her hips, shying away from him. “I’m done. I’m done. I can’t—I can’t do this anymore.” Jubilee laughs again and this time it’s watery, the sound sticking in her throat. She yanks his flannel over her head, leaving it half-unbuttoned and grabbing for her discarded jeans. “I’ve been throwing myself at you all fucking week, Sweet Pea, and clearly you aren’t interested, so I think I need to leave.” She buttons her jeans, leaving her shirt on the couch with her bra and scooping up her things. “Sorry about your project, but apparently you already asked Fangs to be your back up, so you’ll be fine.”

The amount of venom in her words makes him flinch, and he can only stand there dumbfounded as she grabs her phone off the coffee table. “You’ve what?” he finally manages to ask once the words register. She’s been throwing herself at him? “Jubilee, wait!”

She ignores his question, but turns around to look at him as he steps around the easel towards her. That raw hurt stops him again and he can’t breathe. For a second she doesn’t say anything, just stares at him in utter defeat.

“You know, when you asked me to do this I thought maybe you finally figured it out,” she says, barely above a whisper. A sound caught halfway between a sigh and a laugh slips from her and she shakes her head. “Maybe you wanted me just as bad as I want you, because why else do you ask one of your best friends to strip down for a nude portrait? But then you make out with some random girl at a party and I kiss you and you practically run out of here the next morning.”

It hits him in the stomach, the realization that she remembers last night—that she meant to kiss him.

Jubilee waits for him to say something, anything, but Sweet Pea only stares at her, unable to move as he tries to wrap his head around all of it. It takes him a second too long to realize he’s fucked up and by then Jubilee is already turning away from him again.

“Lydia was right,” she murmurs, so low he almost doesn’t hear, “this was a mistake.”

She grabs her book off the coffee table.

He reaches for her instinctively, his fingers wrapping around her wrist to stop her from storming off. “Jubilee—”

“Don’t!” she snaps as the book falls to the floor. His hand drops immediately. An apology flickers in her glossy eyes and his heart squeezes in his chest. “Sweet Pea, just don’t,” she repeats, softer this time. “It’s fine, I get it. It’s not… I’m not mad, I just can’t be here right now, okay?” Jubilee tries to smile for him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

She leaves the book on the floor and turns away from him.

Sweet Pea stares after her, unable to move as Jubilee shoves her phone into her pocket and heads towards the door.

She’s been throwing herself at him? Blood roars in his ears and his mouth moves but no sound escapes him. It hits him again that everything she did last night was on purpose. Asking him to zip up her dress. Kissing him like that. What else has he missed this week? Or even before that? How did he not notice it?

Or maybe he did notice and chose to ignore it.

“You’re wrong,” he calls after her, desperation seizing him as she grabs her bag and shoes off the floor and reaches for the front door. Jubilee hesitates, her hand hovering over the knob. Sweet Pea takes a step after her, his throat tight. “About me not being interested.”

Jubilee’s head snaps around. Her hand slowly drops back to her side as she looks at Sweet Pea, expression guarded and her brows narrowed in confusion. Jubilee’s lips part, but she doesn’t say anything as he takes another step towards her. She turns to face him hesitantly, and he stops in the middle of the living room, his stomach flipping sickly as she stares at him with wide eyes.

The shoes slip from Jubilee’s hands and fall with a clatter onto the floor, loud in the suddenly quiet room. She wets her lips, eyes leaving his for a second before snapping back to him. Her mouth moves wordlessly. “You never said anything,” she finally chokes out, letting her bag fall to the floor.

A breathy laugh escapes him. “Neither did you,” Sweet Pea jokes, the ache in his chest lessening when she steps away from the door. Jubilee crosses the small space between them until there’s hardly any left and his fingers twitch with the need to touch her.

She stops just in front of him, looking small and vulnerable in the flannel that practically swallows her whole. She has to crane her head back to meet his eyes, her head barely coming up to his shoulder. “Sweets,” Jubilee whispers.

“Fuck, Jubilee,” he takes a shuddery breath, “if I’d known you—”

He doesn’t get to finish. Jubilee surges up onto her toes and fists a hand in his shirt. She drags him down to her, cutting him off with a rough, messy kiss that he melts into easily. Sweet Pea’s hands settle onto her hips instinctively, one palm sliding around to her back and holding her loosely against his chest. His heart thumps erratically and he’s lost in the feel of her pressed loosely again his chest and the light scent of her perfume. The kiss becomes slow and coaxing, so much like the one from last night, and Sweet Pea sinks into it as her hands slide up his chest, her fingers tickling the sides of his neck as he sighs.

Jubilee pulls away from him slowly, lingering there as she drops back to her feet.

Sweet Pea’s palm presses firmly against her lower back and Jubilee shivers as the heat of his hand sinks into her skin through her haphazardly buttoned shirt. An absentminded finger traces the curved lines inked into the side of his neck and Sweet Pea shivers as he leans into Jubilee. Her breath fans across his lips and he drags his hand up her back, the tips of his fingers tracing the length of her spine.

“Why did you ask me to do this?” Jubilee asks him after a tense minute, her eyes searching his desperately for some answer. Gently, she cups his face in her hands, her thumbs stroking back and forth across his cheeks. Her exhales are shaky against him and she’s so close that Sweet Pea can hear the hitch in her breathing when he cradles the back of her neck with one hand. “Sweets?”

He opens his mouth to answer her, but no words leave him. He already knows why he asked her earlier this week. She was the first person he thought about when Kandinsky told them about the assignment. Jubilee’s always been beautiful, he’d be a fool not to notice that; but that’s not the reason he asked.

She means everything to him.

Instead of responding, Sweet Pea dips his chin and catches her in another slow, sweet kiss. His fingers wind through her dark hair as Jubilee tilts her head back and arches into his chest until there’s no space left between them. Her arms wind around the back of his neck tightly, dragging him down close, and a groan rumbles in his throat as her lips suddenly move against his in a way that’s almost bruising.

Sweet Pea kisses her back just as frantically, just like he did last night, only it’s different now. They’re both sober and he wants her just as badly as he has since they were in high school. And she doesn’t stop him.

Jubilee leaves fire in her wake as her fingers fist at his hair. She relaxes into his touch as his grip tightens around her hip. And Sweet Pea drinks in the taste of her, sweet and thick on his tongue, like honey and raspberries. Her perfume tickles at his senses in a hazy cloud and when her nails drag down the sides of his neck he shivers against her. Heat curls in his gut.

It’s sweet, but it’s not what either of them want.

A keening gasp escapes Jubilee as his tongue traces the seam of her lips. She surges up onto her toes again to kiss him harder, and Sweet Pea moans as she pulls his hair roughly. Jubilee nips at him, catching his lower lip between her teeth and biting down before releasing him again.

Jubilee shoves him. A grunt tears from his chest as he stumbles back against the couch, his knee knocking against the arm. But Jubilee doesn’t disappear for long. Her mouth is back on his again a moment later and she urges him down against the cushions. As soon as he drops back she crawls on top of him and straddles his lap.

Sweet Pea grins against her as she settles on top of him, her hands on his shoulders to hold her steady as her balance shifts. His hands drop down to her hips, squeezing roughly before snaking higher on her torso to trace the soft strip of skin that was peeking out beneath her shirt earlier. She sighs in response to his touch and idly he wonders if she would make the same noise if it was his mouth on her.

His moan rumbles against her lips as her hips roll against his. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Sweet Pea mumbles, pulling back just enough to look at her. Jubilee’s fingers bite into his shoulders as his big hands grasp her hips again, squeezing roughly as he grinds her down against his hardening cock again. He swallows her gasp and bites her lip. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Why didn’t you?” Jubilee murmurs. Her lips drag across his cheek to his jaw, where she starts peppering feverish kisses.

He chuckles, the sound low and throaty in the quiet room. Instead of answering, he grabs her chin, bringing her mouth back to his for another rough kiss. Jubilee melts into him, her arms wrapping loosely around the back of his neck. Every inch of her is pressed up against his torso, and he could stay like that forever if it was what she wanted. But her head tilts for a better angle and her fingers run through his hair as her hips roll against his in a steady rhythm.

Sweet Pea’s mouth tears away from hers with a lewd, wet sound, but he doesn’t stray from her for long. His lips meet her skin once more, hot wet kisses trailing over her jaw and down her neck without warning. Jubilee gasps as his lips wander across her soft skin, following the same path as last night. She squirms against him as he roughly bites and sucks at her pulse point, his lips lazily trailing down the column of her throat as he noses at her. His teeth gently scrape down her neck and her thighs lock around his hips.

“Oh, fuck.” Jubilee gasps as he peruses her neck. She tilts her head up to give him better access. “Sweet Pea,” she pants against his ear, her fingers twitching against the back of his neck. Jubilee’s eyes flutter shut as he finds a particularly sensitive spot just below her jaw, and her hips rock against his, desperate for some kind of friction as an ache builds in her stomach.

The sound of his name on her lips and the whimpers slipping from her mouth makes something hot flood through his veins. When she chokes out his name again, Sweet Pea bites down on her neck roughly. She yelps, but the stuttering sound becomes a breathy moan as he soothes the spot with a slow lick. Sweet Pea blows against her wet skin and she shivers, hips stuttering against his.

Swearing, Sweet Pea’s mouth latches onto her again. He pays particular attention to that sensitive spot on her neck, drawing her blood to the surface. Jubilee lets him work a bruise onto her skin and squirms when his mouth moves lower, peppering smaller hickeys down the length of her neck down to her collarbones and the exposed swell of her breast.

Jubilee brings his lips back to hers before he can linger on her chest and Sweet Pea shifts uncomfortably beneath her, painfully hard in his jeans as her core continues to grind against his. Her hips circle against his slowly and her hands cradle his jaw as she kisses him deeply. Sweet Pea’s hands slide up her back and he wraps one arm firmly around her back as his right hand finds the back of her neck again, holding her head loosely in place.

The urgency slowly drains from them, and Sweet Pea lets her rock above him lazily, content with whatever she’s willing to give him.

Her hands drift from his face down to his shoulders and his chest, and Jubilee sighs as her hands slip beneath the open fabric of his flannel. She begins to shove his shirt aside and Sweet Pea reluctantly breaks his hold on her as the flannel catches on his elbows. He shrugs out of it and throws the flannel aside.

Jubilee’s hands slide down his arms appreciatively and he grins against her mouth.

“Please,” she murmurs, muffled by a needy kiss.

Sweet Pea brushes her hair away from her neck and his free hand slips beneath her shirt, teasing the skin just above her jeans. “What do you want, Doll?” He doesn’t want to push her.

Jubilee quells his hesitation with a series of slow kisses. “You,” she breathes between brushes of their lips.

The easy answer makes his heart squeeze in his chest. A surge of affection and lust rips through him. “Shit.” His hands latch onto her hips as he jerks beneath her. “I don’t have a condom,” he mumbles, swearing when she rolls against him. He didn’t think he’d be needing one anytime soon.

A breathy laugh slips from her. “Back pocket,” she tells him before kissing him again.

Sweet Pea’s brows knit together in confusion before his hands slide down, groping at her ass and grinding her down against him. She moans into his mouth as his fingers dip into the back pocket of her jeans and squeeze. The foil package crinkles beneath his fingers and he pulls away from her to chuckle. “Did you plan on seducing me, Jubilee?”

Her hips jerk against his when he pinches her ass and fishes the condom out of her pocket, slipping it into his own. “I’ve been trying to all week, thanks for noticing.”

Shaking his head, Sweet Pea’s hands slide around to the front of her jeans. He pops the button on them and Jubilee’s breath catches. “Fuck, Baby,” he murmurs, “do you know how hard it was not to pin you to the couch and make you beg for it?” Jubilee squirms over his lap and wriggles out of her pants, kicking them to the floor.

She whimpers when his hands squeeze her ass again, his touch hotter without the extra layer of clothing between them. Jubilee wets her lips. “I think I have an idea.”

Her fingers ghost over his hips before grasping his arousal through his jeans and palming him roughly. Sweet Pea groans and his head drops against the back of the couch. Jubilee takes the opportunity to latch her mouth onto his exposed throat, nipping and sucking at his skin like he did to her, leaving faint marks in her wake. His breathing becomes ragged as he presses into her hand.

Jubilee presses butterfly kisses over his pounding pulse as she pops the button on his jeans and works her hand beneath his pants and underwear. Her soft fingers wrap around his cock and Sweet Pea grunts. “Shit, Sweets,” she murmurs against his neck, tracing the length of him with her hand. His eyes slip shut as she strokes him slowly, fingers squeezing around him until his hips stutter beneath her.

“Fuck. Jubilee,” he chokes out, hissing through his teeth when her thumb circles the head of his cock. Her lips move up to jaw and chin until she reaches the corner of his mouth, where she presses a surprisingly sweet kiss.

Sweet Pea reluctantly pulls her hand out of his pants and ignores the questioning look she sends him. She opens her mouth, but whatever she was planning to say is cut off by her gasp when his hands grab her ass. Sweet Pea stands suddenly, surprising her, and he chuckles when Jubilee clings to his shoulders. Her long legs wrap around his waist as he shifts his grip on her and pushes away from the couch.

Her mouth covers his again and he stumbles blindly around the furniture in the room until he finds the nearest surface.

Jubilee yelps as he shoves her back against the closest wall, his mouth immediately swallowing her appreciative moan as her legs squeeze around his hips. She hits the wall with a bang that he hopes his neighbors don’t hear, but Jubilee doesn’t seem to care as she coils around him. His grip on her thighs is bruising, but she only keens at the rough treatment, arching into his chest as her fingers tangle in his hair, her lips moving against his.

Her legs squeeze around his hips as he settles against her, mouth meeting hers in a fiery kiss. He forces her head back against the wall, enjoying the way she squirms against him, fingers pulling at him tighter as she rolls her hips against his again, no space left between them. Her thighs quake around him when he grinds against her, a soft, fluttery sigh leaving Jubilee. The breathy sound makes him shiver, his fingers sliding high on her legs until he’s flirting with the hem of her underwear. The lace tickles at his skin and she squirms as his fingers dip beneath the fabric teasingly.

Jubilee’s fingers ghost down the sides of his neck, the teasing touch making Sweet Pea’s hips snap against hers. She pulls back to murmur his name against his lips, and Sweet Pea’s heart seizes. Warmth blooms in his chest as she traces the shape of his jaw with a delicate finger.

For a minute they stay like that: Jubilee pinned between him and the wall, her touch soft and sweet as the tips of her fingers draw shapes down the sides of his neck, their lips brushing and their exhales mingling because they’re so close.

“God, I love you,” he murmurs absentmindedly. Jubilee’s breathing hitches and her eyes widen a fraction, her pupils blown wide with arousal. This time, Sweet Pea is the one to close the small distance between them, and when Jubilee sighs he relaxes into her. His thumb strokes her skin, sweeping back and forth across her thigh lazily.

Her hands slide into his hair and Sweep Pea pushes away from the wall. Jubilee’s legs tighten around his waist when she becomes airborne, but he keeps his hands firmly on her thighs to make sure she doesn’t slip. He feels his way through the apartment carefully, so wrapped up in Jubilee that he’s hardly paying attention. It’s easier than it was last night, with the sun still shining in through the open curtains, the sun only just beginning to set.

Sweet Pea drops her down carefully onto the end of his bed, hovering over her for a second and kisses her once more before pulling away just long enough to tear his undershirt over his head and toss it on the floor. Jubilee’s gaze rakes over his bare chest appreciatively and Sweet Pea can’t help the grin that pulls at his mouth, his dark eyes glimmering in amusement.

“Like what you see, Doll?” he jokes, standing in front of her with kiss swollen lips and messy hair from her fingers pulling at him. Faint hickeys are peppered across his neck and his jeans are slung low on his hips, unbuttoned and unzipped.

Jubilee is equally rumpled, wearing nothing but those white, lacy panties and the green flannel she was wearing this morning. Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath and deep red and purple love bites are scattered from the underside of her jaw down to her collarbone. Her flannel is half-hanging from her shoulder and revealing the enticing curve of her breast. He tried not to stare at her before, but now he can barely tear his eyes away.

Jubilee isn’t as patient. She huffs, reaching out for him with both hands. “Get over here.” He chuckles as she wiggles her fingers expectantly, but does as she asks. Sweet Pea lets her drag him down to the bed and she giggles as he crawls on top of her. Jubilee tries to wrap her arms around his neck but he gathers both of her hands in his before she can, pinning them to the mattress on either side of her head.

He kisses her again before she can complain and links their fingers together gently. She squeezes their interlinked hands before slipping her fingers away from his. Her palms press flat against his back, dragging across his skin slowly and making them both sigh.

Sweet Pea braces one arm against the bed, keeping his weight off her as he slips one hand between her legs. Jubilee gasps into his mouth when his fingers drag along the inside of her thigh. Goosebumps rise on her skin as his fingers trail higher, Sweet Pea testing the waters.

He releases her mouth, kissing her cheek briefly before his mouth moves lower. Jubilee arches into him, pressing her hips closer to his hand encouragingly. Two of his fingers drag along the front of her damp underwear and her hips jump as his fingers brush against her clit through the thin fabric.

“Sweets,” she gasps against his ear, opening her legs wider as his fingers continue to tease her. Her fingers dig into his shoulders as his mouth moves down her jaw to the sensitive skin of her neck. Her nails drag down his back suddenly and he grunts into the side of her neck. Sweet Pea dips a finger beneath the strip of fabric separating their skin and she gasps. Jubilee’s eyes flutter shut as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat. “Please.”

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs back to her, breath fanning across the hollow of her throat. He’s still painfully hard against her thigh, but he ignores it, taking a slow breath. Sweet Pea removes his fingers from beneath her panties and rises on his elbows enough to look her in the eyes. He needs to be sure this is what she wants, that everything isn’t happening too fast. “Jubilee, if you don’t want—”

“I want you, Sweet Pea,” she says, cutting him off gently. Her hands leave his back to grasp his face, and Jubilee brings him up to meet her in a slow, reassuring kiss.

Sweet Pea sinks into the kiss for a long moment before finally pulling back. He returns to her collarbone, working another hickey onto her skin as he slips his hand back between them, this time finding the buttons on her flannel. He pops each one open slowly, perusing each new inch of skin revealed to his greedy mouth. Jubilee’s chest heaves beneath him and a stuttering gasp slips from her mouth as his fingers find the last button.

He sits up again to look at her and Jubilee shrugs the shirt aside. The dark green fabric slips from her arms slowly and for a second he can’t breathe. Despite the fact that she stripped in front of him and he spent over two hours working on a nude sketch of her, it hits him in this moment how much she trusts him.

Jubilee watches him as his eyes drag down her frame like a physical touch, taking in every inch of her skin in a way he didn’t before. There’s a splash of color on her ribcage that catches his attention, just behind her left breast, almost on her back. His heart aches when he sees the small, delicate petals of a flower he recognizes. The blue and purple watercolor tattoo is still as beautiful as the first time he saw it.

“I remember when you got this.” His fingers trace the shape of the tattoo and she shivers beneath him.

Jubilee relaxes beneath him. “The day before we left Riverdale.” A heavy sigh escapes her, and Jubilee’s ribcage moves beneath his hand. He strokes his thumb across the tattoo one more time before sliding his hand higher to cup her breast. She inhales sharply, arching into him when his thumb brushes against her nipple. “Micah did a good job.”

Humming in agreement, Sweet Pea leans down to press his lips back to her collarbone. He works his way lower, lips wandering down her chest lazily. She’s vocal but quiet as his tongue and teeth graze her skin, little gasps and coos slipping from her mouth.

He grins against her when she hooks a leg over his hip, trying to pull him down to her. A frustrated sigh escapes her when he doesn’t budge, content to peruse her chest and drag more soft sounds from her. He could get high off the sounds she makes.

“Sweets,” she huffs, leg squeezing around him as he kisses across her left breast. Her fingers thread through his hair as his teeth graze her skin again, and she squirms when he nips at her, leaving a trail of faint red marks across her skin. As she presses her heel into his back, Sweet Pea’s hand slides down her side and back between her legs. His tongue swirls around her nipple and her gasps rise in pitch as he takes it into his mouth.

Sweet Pea rolls her nipple between his teeth as his fingers slip back beneath her underwear. His digits trace her opening and he groans when he feels just how wet she already is. Jubilee keens, hips rocking up against his hand as his thumb bushes against her clit. “Fuck,” she hisses against his ear. “Please.”

“I know,” he murmurs against her breast, the vibration from his mouth making her leg squeeze around him tighter. “Shit, Doll, you’re so wet.” Sweet Pea groans against her as two of his fingers sink into her easily, long and thick. Her head drops back against the mattress and her eyes squeeze shut as his digits drag roughly along her walls.

She arches into his mouth and hands. “Fuck, Sweet Pea.” He groans against her breast, curling his fingers and searching for the spot inside her that’ll make her gasp. Her walls cling to his retreating fingers, sucking him in deeper as his thumb rubs slow, teasing circles against her clit. Sweet Pea moves his attention to one of the hickeys on her breast, deepening the bruise.

Slowly, he works his way down her stomach, kissing a path down her quivering stomach. His nose brushes against her teasingly, and she squeals when his tongue dips into her bellybutton. Jubilee shoves his shoulder and he chuckles. His hands are hot against her skin as he gripes one of her thighs, holding her in place as he his fingers continue to thrust into her slowly. The soft sounds and sighs of his name slipping from her kiss-swollen lips make his heart swell with pure joy.

Jubilee inhales sharply when he slides off the end of the bed and drops to his knees, draping her knee over his shoulder. She sits up on her elbows and he locks eyes with her as he turns to press an open-mouthed kiss against the inside of her thigh. The shaky sigh that slips from her only encourages him. Sweet Pea pulls his fingers from her core and Jubilee whines at the loss of his touch. His fingers hook around the hem of her panties. Sweet Pea holds her gaze as he tugs them down her hips, Jubilee shifting to help him kick the scrap of fabric aside. Her bare leg dangles down his back and she presses her heel into his back to draw him closer.

Sweet Pea kisses across the inside of her thigh, working his way to her center as his fingers creep back to her opening.

Jubilee shakes her head, breathing out a laugh. “Really? You’d rather eat me out than fuck me senseless?” His fingers slip back inside her and the heat of his breath makes her toes curl against his back. Sweet Pea keeps a firm grip on her thigh and holds her gaze as his tongue flicks out against her clit. “Fuck,” she hisses. Her hips jerk, but he holds her firmly against the mattress.

“I can do both,” he reminds her before leaning back in and covering her clit with his mouth. She practically sobs as he starts to suck on the bundle of nerves, dragging her right up to the edge. The extended foreplay has left them both achingly sensitive and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get her off at least twice tonight. “You gonna cum for me, Doll?” he teases, pulling away from her heat to glance up at her.

She drops back onto the mattress and grinds against his hand with a needy sound. “Sweets, please, just—” She cries out as he sucks on her clit at the same time his fingers curl inside her.

Jubilee cums hard, moaning his name as her hips jerk and her entire body trembles beneath his touch. Her walls squeeze around his fingers and he pulls his mouth away from her to watch her face twist with pleasure. His  thumb replaces his tongue on her clit and his fingers slow, but he doesn’t stop, drawing out her orgasm until she’s boneless beneath him, the sensations too much.

Sweet Pea removes his fingers as she comes down from her high. He rises from the floor and crawls back up her torso slowly, the tips of his fingers trailing up the outside of her thigh. Another gentle sigh slips from Jubilee as he presses butterfly kisses up her stomach and between her breasts. She reaches for him as his lips find her neck. Humming, he peppers kisses up to her jaw and across her cheek, letting her catch her breath. Jubilee’s hands grasp his shoulders like she needs something to ground her, like she might float away from him if he lets her go. And then her hands slip into his hair, brushing his bangs away from his eyes before she pulls him into a kiss so sweet that his chest floods with warmth.

For a minute he just holds her like that, kissing her slowly as her fingers caress the sides of his face. But he’s hard and hot and it almost hurts when he presses against her thigh. A groan tears from his throat when she rocks her hips against his. “Fuck,” he murmurs, his forehead pressed against hers.

Jubilee exhales shakily as he grinds against her thigh to relieve some of the pressure. “Jesus Christ, Sweets,” she murmurs as she feels the full length of him pressing against her.

He hums. “I know, Baby.”

A grin pulls at her lips. Jubilee drags her palms down his neck to his chest, her fingertips tracing the lines of his stomach teasingly all the way down to the front of his jeans. Sweet Pea moans her name as her hand slips beneath his pants. She wraps her fingers around him and his hips jerk into her hand. The grunt that slips from him when she begins stroking him slowly is almost embarrassing and she lowers her mouth to his chin, kissing him gently.

He stares down at her with hooded eyes when her mouth leaves him. Sweet Pea braces his forearms on either side of her head, shifting his weight off of her as she continues to stroke his cock slowly. He thrusts into her fist and swears under his breath as she thumbs at the head. Jubilee’s fingers circle around the sensitive tip, smearing the drops of pre-cum leaking out.

Abruptly, she releases him, and groans at the lack of contact. Her head tilts back as she kisses his chin again, and she grins at him when he forces his eyes open again. Jubilee hooks her fingers around the waistband of his jeans and underwear, pulling them away from his skin before letting them snap back against him.

“Take these off,” she murmurs, needy hips rocking up against him. Sweet Pea hisses through his teeth as she grinds against the front of his jeans. Her hands slip around his back and into his pocket, where she fishes out the condom from earlier.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, swallowing back a moan when her hips circle against his slowly. It takes him a second to disentangle himself from Jubilee. He rises from the bed just long enough to kick off the last layers of his clothing before returning to the bed.  

She giggles as she backs up, climbing up the bed, and he follows close after her.

Sweet Pea kisses her again, guiding her to lie back against the sheets as he slips between her thighs, and her fingers drag down his stomach again in response. His hips press against hers, his cock sliding between her wet folds and making them both groan at the contact. He grinds against her again, nudging her legs open wider, and swears loudly when she reaches between them to stroke him slowly and watch the way his jaw clenches at the pleasure that ripples through him in a wave.

She releases him long enough to rip open the foil package of the condom and he hisses through his teeth as she rolls it onto his shaft. He rocks his hips against hers slowly, running his cock over her slit, and Jubilee’s hands grasp at his upper arms, her fingers biting into his skin as he lines himself up with her entrance.

Jubilee hisses as he sinks into her, his cock stretching her from the inside. Sweet Pea slips into her easily, she’s so wet, and she shivers at the fullness, an ache already forming between her legs again. He’s big and hard and hot inside her, and when he shifts his hips she whimpers as his cock rubs against something wonderful inside her. “Oh, fuck, Sweet Pea,” she murmurs, biting her lip as his hips grind against her.

His responding chuckle turns into a moan when her walls squeeze around him, sucking him in deeper as her hips roll up against his, urging him to move. But he just rests there for a second, trying not to cum already, but between the foreplay and how warm and wet she is inside he’s already closer than he’d like to be.

Gently, he presses his lips against the side of her neck, kissing her there as he tries to control his breathing. Her pulse flutters beneath his lips and she pants, a light sheen of sweat making her skin slick against his.

Just as she starts to grow impatient, beginning to squirm beneath him, Sweet Pea moves, picking up a fast pace that makes her moan. His hips grind against hers purposefully, the friction on her clit making her toes curl into the sheets as she grits her teeth.

“That’s it, Doll,” Sweet Pea mutters, only half-aware of the nonsense falling from his mouth, curses and praises as she meets his thrusts. “Just like that.” His cock hits a spot deep inside her and her hips stutter against his, but he doesn’t stop talking as his hips move against hers roughly. “You’re so fucking incredible.” Her walls squeeze around him tightly.

A whine catches in her throat as he starts to thrust into her harder and faster. Her fingers squeeze his arms and her hands flutter over his skin like she isn’t sure where to grab him before she settles on his face and drags him down into a bruising kiss, her hips still rising to meet his.

“Come on, Jubilee,” he says when she releases him to breathe. His mouth immediately moves to her jaw, his teeth grazing her skin. She trembles beneath him, coil wound tight in her stomach as they continue to grind against each other. Her thighs twitch around his hips and she swears when his hand skims down her thigh.

She’s close, teetering on the edge, but it’s not enough.

Her arms wrap around him, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades as she holds him to her. “Sweet Pea, please,” she gasps, “I can’t—”

“I know.” He brushes her hair away from her neck before his teeth latch onto a dark hickey just below her jaw and he nips at her roughly. His hand finds her hip, pinning her in place as he sits up slightly on his knees. The angle makes her gasp and his lips drag down her sensitive neck. His hand slides from her hip down between them. “Just let go,” he tells her. “I’ve got you.”

Big fingers rub tight circles over her engorged clit and she cums again, choking on his name and arching into his chest. Her nails dig into his back and her hips jerk against his as her orgasm crashes over her. He fucks her through it. Slows his thrusts as she twitches, walls squeezing around him.

The strings pulling her taut suddenly release. Jubilee drops back onto the mattress, chest heaving and dazed from her orgasm. Her arms drop onto the bed on either side of her head, fisting in the sheets as his hips continue to roll against hers. The continued stimulation makes her twitch.

Sweet Pea kisses her, swallowing the little sounds spilling from her mouth. One of his hands finds hers and he pries her fingers out of the bed sheets to link their hands together, grounding them. He manages to hook his shoulder beneath one of her knees, forcing her open wider and making her hips shift, allowing him to reach deeper inside her.

She doesn’t have time to breathe as he starts fucking her senseless like she wanted, his cock pounding into her. He leaves her boneless and breathless, Jubilee taking each thrust against her sensitive core as whimpers and gasps spill from her mouth. The sounds she makes only spur him on and his hips grind against hers just right, cock continuously hitting a spot that makes her legs tremble as he fucks her into the mattress, chasing his own high as she teeters just on the edge.

He forces his eyes open, locking them on her and watching as her face twists in pleasure. She looks tiny beneath him, his frame caging her in and holding her open, and he fucks her harder.

“I love you,” he tells her, barely aware of what he’s saying, but she hears him. Her breath catches and her heart skips, and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Fuck. I love you.” His fingers squeeze around hers and his pace is relentless as she rocks against him. Sweat slides down his neck. He pants, tensing as anticipation grows in his stomach. His heart pounds erratically and he shudders above Jubilee, their breaths mingling as his forehead presses against hers.

She cums again when his thumb brushes against her clit, the stimulation from his fingers and his cock too much, but he doesn’t stop pounding into her. His fingers move against her clit roughly, dragging out her orgasm until she’s trembling and moaning beneath him.

Jubilee’s fingernails dig into the back of his hand and she whispers his name and everything falls into place.

His hips snap against hers and the pressure building in his gut releases. His cock twitches as he pushes into her roughly and his throaty moan is loud in the room as he spills himself into the condom.

Jubilee’s arms wrap around him as he pulls out of her, and her lips find his in the darkness that blankets the room.

Sweet Pea wakes up before her the next morning.

The sun is just starting to rise, light bleeding in through the windows lining the wall, the curtains left open during their frenzy the night before. He groans at the sunlight spilling in and buries his face against her hair, his grip tightens around Jubilee and she sighs in her sleep before curling closer to his chest. Her legs wind through his beneath the blankets and her unruly hair tickles at his bare chest when she nuzzles into his frame, chasing his warmth as his fingers idly stroke the length of her spine.

For a moment he just lies there, hazy and warm with his arms locked around Jubilee, content for the first time in days.

But the light is irritating and his bladder is full and as much as he wants to stay in that moment forever, he knows he can’t. It’s hard, breaking his grip on her and sliding from the bed without disturbing her, but Jubilee only sighs at the loss of heat. Her nose scrunches up before she rolls onto her stomach and Sweet Pea chuckles. His fingers linger against her cheek as he brushes her hair away from her face.

He cleans up around the apartment while she sleeps, gathering their scattered clothing and slipping on a pair of clean boxers. He has a series of messages from the guys asking how the night went. Most are earnest, but Fangs has been sending him strings of eggplant emojis again. He answers them all vaguely before leaving his phone on the counter. Sweet Pea finds her phone shoved into her jeans by the couch and sees a few encouraging texts from Lydia and Toni that make him grin.

Jubilee is still sleeping when he finally returns to that corner of the room and for a second he just stares at her. She’s kicked away most of the blankets, leaving them low on her hips, and her arms are folded under her head. Her right arm is stretched out over the mattress, her fingers curled loosely, and her left is tucked under her cheek, her face buried in the crook of her elbow. Her hair is a mess around her and her back rises and falls with her breaths. From where he’s standing he can just see the curve of her breast against the mattress and the red and purple marks decorating her neck.

What really stops him is the tattoo on her side, the one she tries to keep covered up. She looks small and soft and vulnerable lying there with the sunlight spilling in around her and casting gentle shadows.

He doesn’t really think as grabs his sketchbook and stool from the living room or flips the page from the drawing of her from last night, finding a fresh one. There’s no hesitation this time as he puts her down on paper, and Jubilee doesn’t move the entire time he’s working, like somehow she already knows what he’s doing.

And Sweet Pea draws it all. The tattoo. The hickeys. Her relaxed expression. Hours pass without him realizing it.

He’s just finish the details of her tattoo when she sighs. Sweet Pea’s eyes snap to her face and a smile immediately pulls at his lips when she blinks at him sleepily. Sweet Pea sets his sketchbook aside, closing it as he stands and crosses the short distance to her.

“What time is it?” Jubilee murmurs as his knee sinks into the mattress beside her. Her eyes flutter shut when he brushes her hair away from her face.

Sweet Pea presses his lips to her temple, leaning over her. “Early,” he tells her. He’s not sure what the time is anymore, but after the weekend they’ve had she deserves to sleep in for a while. “Go back to bed, Doll.”

Jubilee rolls onto her back beneath him, and his chest squeezes as she looks at him, her eyes searching his. His fingers brush against her waist above the edge of the blanket and she lifts her hand to the side of his neck. The tips of her fingers brush against the double-headed snake on his neck.

She’s quiet for a while. “Last night you said you love me,” Jubilee says suddenly. He stills above her, mouth dry and throat tight, but she doesn’t wait for a response. Her hand shifts to cradle his cheek and her thumb brushes against his bottom lip. “I love you too.” His lip trembles. “You know that right?”

“Jubilee,” is the only thing he manages to choke out. His heart pounds in his chest and his fingers twitch where they’re resting above her hip.

“I love you, Sweet Pea,” she repeats. There’s a nervous glint in her honey eyes as they continue to search his, but it’s the heartbreaking honestly that steals his breath. Jubilee takes a shuddery breath and her eyes leave his, flickering between his face and somewhere over his shoulder, like she isn’t sure where to look. “And if you didn’t mean it—” She shakes her head, eyes glossy.

“Jubilee,” he says again, but she still won’t look at him. He slips a finger under her chin, gently coaxing her to look at him. The doubt that flickers across her face makes the pleasant warmth in his stomach turn to ice and he feels sick suddenly. “Hey, look at me.”

She swallows thickly. “Back in high school, I thought—but after the Ghoulies—” She trails off briefly, more hesitant than she was last night.

He goes still. She’s speaking in half sentences, but he understands. Before that night they were so close to something. Ever since she came home the beginning of sophomore year they’d been right on the edge of something. Sweet Pea doesn’t know if he loved her then or if it came after, the guilt and the anger overshadowed everything. Things have changed so much since that night. They changed. Riverdale changed. But the way he feels about her is the one constant in his life. No matter how hard he tries to shove it down it always comes back.

He’s quiet for too long.

Jubilee exhales shakily. Her hands withdraw from him. “You never said anything. You don’t talk about it. We don’t talk about it,” she stresses. “And if I did something—”

“No,” he cuts her off immediately. Sweet Pea cradles her cheek and tilts her head so that she’s looking right at him. “Fuck, Baby, no,” he repeats, thumb sweeping across her skin. “It was never you, okay? Never.” He sighs and strokes her cheek again before letting her go. “It was my fault, not yours.”

Her brow furrows in confusion that quickly melts into realization. “Oh, Sweet Pea,” she murmurs. Gently, he pulls away from her, sitting up on the bed. Jubilee follows him, drawing the sheets up to her chest. “I never blamed you.” Her small hand slides from his elbow to his shoulder.

“I know, Baby.” He looks at the sketchbook sitting beside the bed.

“Do you?” She squeezes his arm. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Sweet Pea shakes his head. “I was supposed to protect you,” he reminds her. “When you came home I promised your dad I’d—and you got hurt.” It comes out softer than it’s meant to, his throat tight as the words choke off.

“So did you,” she reminds him, tracing one of the scars on his back. Sighing, she shifts on the bed. “Sweet Pea, look at me.” Jubilee doesn’t give him a choice. She tosses one leg over his, straddling his hips and forcing him to look at her when she grabs his face in both of her hands. Her expression is firm now, eyes alight with something fiery. “I’m right here,” she tells him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She doesn’t say it, but he hears it anyway. She almost lost him too. He was so angry after that night, self-destructive. They both got hurt that night. The Ghoulies left them broken in so many ways, and he’s tired of letting that control him.

He can’t help it when he relaxes into her, his big hands covering her hips and holding her steady. “I know.” His hand moves to the tattoo just behind her breast. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

She smothers his apology with her lips, kissing him firmly. He responds automatically, pulling her closer as her mouth moves against his slowly, pointedly, just like she kissed him last night. He was apologizing then too.

Jubilee pulls away from him quicker than he would have liked. She shivers when his thumb strokes across the flowers blooming on her side. “Are you going to kiss me every time I apologize?”

“Only when you’re being a dumbass,” she jokes, running her hands through his hair and brushing it away from his eyes. He chuckles and she leans in to press another chaste kiss to his mouth, smothering the sound.

Sweet Pea shakes his head as she drapes her arms around his neck. His arm locks around her waist as he stares at her and she sighs when his fingers start tracing nonsense shapes across her back. “Fuck, I love you,” he murmurs, drawing her in for another kiss. It lingers this time and he drowns in the taste of her. She pulls away from him slowly, playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” she tells him. “Tired. Good.” His fingers knead her lower back and her lips brush against his again. “Really good.”

“Yeah? Good.” Jubilee giggles as he leans in to kiss her properly.

It’s later, when they’re lying down and wrapped around each other quietly in the silent apartment, with Sweet Pea’s hands tracing shapes on her back while hers rests over his heavily beating heart, that she asks, “Why’d you draw a new one?”

It takes him a second to realize she means the drawings of her. He glances over at his sketchbook. It’s shut, but he stared at each of them long enough to pull them both from memory. Sweet Pea brushes her hair away from her neck. “It just felt right.”

[wordywarriorwrites]

Welcome Home

Title: Welcome Home AO3 | Master List | Rating: M Summary: After a long time spent apart, you welcome Steve home.  Inspired By: “What’s Your Fantasy” by Ludacris Warnings: Smut. NSFW. 

Rain falls. Tap dances on the roof. 

A rhythmic lull that morphs into an incessant pounding. A raging, harsh clap and a bright flash woke you, coaxing you from the warmth of your bed to the window. You watched the storm for a good ten minutes before the whisper of your name caught your attention.

“Come ‘ere,” he murmurs, voice deep. Raspy. Commanding. 

You turn to face him. Watch as another flash of light cuts through the air, illuminating his movements. 

He sits up - flash. He tosses back the sheets - flash. 

Occupying the center of the mattress, naked amongst the cotton and feathers. Smattered with bruises and cuts, but still glorious from head to toe. If his body and words hadn’t been invitation enough, another flash of lighting revealing his outstretched hand beckoning you to him was. 

When it came to Steve Rogers, you were as uncontrolled as the storm. Touching was a compulsion - a necessity - and the moment your fingers meet his, he’s pulling you down next to him, wrapping you up, holding you tight. 

You card your fingers through his hair, and when he speaks, his voice is sleep-drenched and slow. Murmurings of how the pillowcase you’d packed - the one that smelled like you - saw him through the worst of it. How seeing you and hearing you over the phone made it easier. The cookies in the care package. The naughty little notes you wrote. The feeling of being in your arms now - safe, if not wholly sound. 

The big, welcome home had been planned. Lingerie, dinner, sex - though, not necessarily in that order. But when you arrived back at the house, his boots and bag had been by the door. He’d arrived earlier than intended, and when you found him, he’d been hunkered down in bed - brow furrowed and blankets up to his chin, and you hadn’t had the heart to wake him. 

It had been hours since then, and now, fingertips that hadn’t touched your skin in so, so long grazed over the back of your bare thighs. No matter how long the separation, Steve’s touch never changed. It was maddeningly exploratory, but not at all hesitant; if anything, it was an eager, refamiliarization, as if his hands were seeking to refresh his memory of what it felt like to set you ablaze. 

Up your shirt and over your breasts. Across your stomach. Dipping and teasing between your legs. Heightening your arousal and bringing you to the edge until you were shaking.

The next roll of thunder was so powerful, it rattled the windows, and when you cried out his name, the growl that exploded from his chest rivaled it. Steve stripped you naked. Smothered your sounds of urgency with his mouth. Made you dizzy with deep, drugging kisses that swelled your heart and lips. 

“Just wanna feel you,” he breathed, hitching your leg over his hip. “I need to feel you, sweetheart.” 

You gulped. Nodded. Held your breath while he slowly pushed his way inside. A filling stretch that made your toes curl. Steve’s mouth was so gentle as it moved along the column of your throat, and after a deep, soul-stealing kiss, he began to carefully, languidly roll his hips. 

“Wanna take my time with you,” Steve murmured. 

You nodded, “We’ll go slow.” 

Like the rain wiped away and cleansed, your lovemaking did the same. It chased away all he’d seen and everything he’d done. Unhurried, but no less passionate, you moved together as one - striving for satisfaction together in a gradual rise. 

“I love you,” Steve breathed, punctuating his words with a grind of his hips. 

“I love you,” you replied, brushing your mouth against his. “So much.” 

A warm, gentle release. Wrapped up in each other. Reveling in each other and the afterglow. Tangled up together beneath the sheets, you both listened to the storm until it passed.

“It’s good to have you home,” you whispered. 

Steve let out a contented sigh and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “It’s good to be home.”

[groggycascade]

Josh’s Balls Incite Him to Foolishness - Pt. IV

I started this story almost exactly a year ago. Given that my first story, Strip Snap, took two years to finish, I’d say this represents an improved work ethic, though my fatality for over-elaboration remains unchanged. Just in case any of you haven’t read my Busterella series of stories, you should know that they crossover with this, the conclusion to Josh’s Balls. Given my time again, I’d think up a better title. 

“It's good to see you again,” chirped Dr. Miller.

  Josh started. He felt certain he would remember having seen Dr. Miller before. Even in her laboratory coat, buttoned to the clavicle, she was just breathtaking. It had been weeks since Josh had masturbated last: in that time, he'd found himself lusting after women far less attractive than this one. Now, alone in Dr. Miller's consultation room, he felt his mouth going dry with desire.

  His cock, however, didn't so much as twitch.

  “Uhm,” Josh said stupidly. Dr. Miller smiled.

  “I examined you last week, after your unfortunate accident,” she told him. “I'm not surprised you don't remember. You were only semi-conscious.”

  She inspected him across her desk, elbows propped in a triangle. Josh couldn't maintain her eye contact for more than a few seconds. This was going to be more difficult than he had realized.

  “I can see you were referred back here by your local doctor,” Dr. Miller said, consulting some notes. “Why don't you tell me what the problem is.”

  Josh swallowed.

  “It's my...” he said, trailing off.

  “I'm a medical professional,” Dr. Miller told him coaxingly. “There's nothing you can tell me I won't have heard before.”

  Josh nodded.

  “It's my penis,” he said. “I can't get it to... up,” he finished in a fluster.

  Dr. Miller smiled sympathetically.

  “That's obviously a big concern for a young man like yourself. Am I to understand that this difficulty post-dates your recent testicular injury?”

  “That's right,” Josh lied. He saw no reason to tell her he hadn't been able to get his dick hard for weeks, thanks to his sister Hayley's repeated attacks on his balls. “I was wondering if you, maybe, might have, you know, missed something... last time I was here. My...” he gulped again. “My testicles are mostly fine now, but my penis just won't...”

  He trailed away again.

  “Specialists rarely come as young as me, Mr. James,” Dr. Miller said, standing up and walking round her desk. “This is because few in my profession are as capable as I am. If there were anything wrong with your testicles, other than a slight double-asymmetry, I would have noticed.”

  “Double asymmetry?” Josh said. “How is that..?”

  “It's quite possible. Each of your testicles is smaller than the other. Stand up,” Dr. Miller instructed.

  Taken aback, Josh stood up. Dr. Miller looked at him for a few seconds. Josh smiled awkwardly.

  “Trousers down?” she said, with a hint of impatience.

  “Oh!”

  While Dr. Miller prodded his testicles and penis (still utterly lifeless) Josh considered how little embarrassed he was at having his privates examined by a woman. After all, his sister, mother, and lifelong crush had all seen his junk over the past few weeks. And, he reassured himself, Dr. Miller was a professional. She had surely seen plenty of guys who were smaller than him.

  At the end of the examination, Dr. Miller told him there was nothing physically the matter with his balls.

  “We could repeat the sonograph,” she told him. “But for now I'd like to rule out the possibility of a proximate psychological cause.”

  She explained that, after a severe injury to the testicles, many men found themselves incapable of maintaining an erection, even after recovery.

  “Such injuries represent an often-traumatic blow to the victim's sense of manhood,” Dr. Miller said. “This can create a latent sense of inferiority, manifesting in an inability to 'perform,'” air quotes, “as a man.”

  She wrote out a prescription for him.

  “Get this filled downstairs,” she said.

  “Thanks,” said Josh, stumbling to his feet. He was still enchanted by her beauty. “See you again.”

  “For your sake I hope not, Mr. James,” replied Dr. Miller with a smile.

Josh had hoped to be able to keep his visit to the hospital a secret. Unfortunately, he had reckoned without Hayley's newfound disrespect for her older brother.

  “It's just hard for me to take you seriously since I saw you get your underdeveloped dick and balls kicked in by the girl you're in love with,” she had told him a few days ago. Consequently, whereas only a few weeks before she had been his occasionally-annoying little sister, she now treated Josh with no consideration at all. She ignored her share of household chores, leaving them for Josh meekly to take care of. At any sign of protest from him, Hayley would jab her knee sharply in the direction of his groin. “Careful, Josh,” she'd warn him playfully. “If you keep busting my balls like this, I just might bust yours as well!”

  Despite his sister's threats, Josh's balls had not suffered her powerful kicks and knees since Maya Gillespie put him in the hospital with near-ruptured testicles. Even Hayley seemed to realize how close Josh had been to losing his manhood permanently, and was prepared to recognize his reluctance to take part in any further ballbusting videos. Josh was under no illusions, though: he knew that as soon as Hayley thought he was recovered, she would insist on a return to their popular series of videos, and for that reason he had for some time been exaggerating the time his rehabilitation would take. There were still over two weeks left of summer: that, Josh knew, would feel like a long time if he had to spend it hoping he'd still be able to (finally) get laid this year.

  Therefore, Josh allowed Hayley to think that her next kick to his balls might just crush them for good, while accepting that as long as Hayley believed this, she would continue to treat him like a pathetic excuse for a man.

  This treatment only worsened when she discovered his prescription from Dr. Miller.

  “Viagra?” she said, waving the box of pills tauntingly in front of his face. Josh's jaw dropped. “Oh my God, Joshy, can you not even get a hard on anymore?” She laughed at his expression.

  “Those were in my sock drawer!” Josh raged at her. “Why were you rooting through my stuff?”

  Hayley shrugged. “Bored,” she said, dismissively. Her face brightened. “Not anymore though!” With her hands cupped between her legs, she mocked him in a childish voice: “My little sister kicked me too hard in my little ballsies and now my little willy doesn't work.”

  “Give me those pills!” said Josh, lunging for the box in Hayley's hand.

  At that moment the door opened and their mother, Kelsey, walked into the lounge.

  Ever since (Kelsey believed) Hayley had mistaken Josh for an intruder and punted him so hard in the balls he almost needed to have them removed, Kelsey had been spending much of her annual leave in and around the house. Josh suspected that his mother hadn't been convinced entirely by Hayley's explanation of his injury: her habit of appearing at the slightest hint of a fracas between her two children only strengthened this suspicion.

  “Something going on?” Kelsey asked.

  “Nothing,” Hayley said. Josh saw her slip his box of pills surreptitiously up her sleeve. “Just trying to persuade Josh to walk me to my friend Maya's house this evening.”

  “Josh,” exclaimed their mother. “Of course you're not going to let your sister walk across town alone at night, are you?”

  “No,” Josh said through gritted teeth. “Of course not.

  We aren't really going to Maya's house, are we?” he asked his sister fearfully, once Kelsey had gone.

  Hayley laughed. “I doubt your nuts would survive a second encounter,” she told him. “You can wait for me in the park. I just need to visit Maya to borrow some equipment off her.”

  “Equipment?” Josh whispered, terrified.

  “You'll see,” Hayley said with a smile.

Josh did see. Around ten o'clock that night, he waited alone in the park. Although it was a warm night, the whole area was deserted. Even so, Josh was scanning the layout nervously. It had been in this very park that the vigilante known as Busterella had inflicted massive trauma on the testicles of a teenage boy not two weeks ago.

  He jumped at the sound of footsteps behind him, but it was only his sister, toting two medium-sized klieg lights. Immediately Josh saw what she had in mind.

  “No,” he said. “Hayley, you've gone too far. We're not shooting a video out here.”

  Hayley arranged the lights on either side of her camera tripod.

  “We can't do it here,” Josh hissed at her. “Someone will see.”

  “We can't do it at home either,” Hayley replied, still fiddling with the camera settings. “Not with mum always around, and we need to get back in the game. Do you realize how backed up with requests we are?”

  “I'm not ready,” Josh said, trying not to whine.

  “You'd better get ready in the next few minutes,” Hayley snapped. “Maya only lent me this stuff after I promised her a copy.”

  Josh was sure his sister would see his face turn red in the dark. “You told Maya about... this?” he whispered harshly.

  Hayley groaned. “Get over it, for God's sake,” she said. “She's already seen you naked and kicked your balls into orbit, I don't think you have to worry about her opinion of you getting any lower.”

  The stage was finally set. The kliegs created a pool of light of about ten square metres. Hayley explained the plot of this latest video.

  “Classic rape-reversal fantasy,” she said. “I'm walking home, all alone and vulnerable, when you jump out at me. Nude, obviously. You grab me, I crush your balls – one less rapist in the world. Nude, I said,” she snapped at him. Josh reluctantly began removing his shirt. When had it become so normal for his sister to order him around and humiliate him like this?

  He stepped out of his boxers. Hayley cocked an eyebrow at her brother's exposed dick and balls.

“Either it's cold out here or you look even smaller with your balls all swollen,” she quipped.

  “Can you please go easy on them?” Josh said feebly. “I'm really getting worried about the... consequences.”

  “You mean like needing blue bombers just to jerk off?” Hayley cruelly replied. “If you were going to get castrated it would have happened already. Now come on, let's do this thing. And try to make it look realistic, I don't want you collapsing every time I tap your balls.”

  Josh felt a prick of rage in his stomach. This was it. He finally had taken all he could take. His sister had injured him, degraded him, and ruined whatever chance he ever had with the girl of his dreams. All for some stupid moneyspinning videos. She didn't care whether or not his balls ever worked properly again, that had been made perfectly clear over the last few days and weeks. His teeth ground in his skull as he picked his clothes up off the ground. Hayley's back was to him as she made some last minute adjustments to the lighting. The beams illuminated her bare legs and shoulders. Josh realized she had dressed for the occasion, an innocent girl walking home after a party, valiantly overpowering and castrating a local creeper. Suddenly Josh had a better idea than walking off in a huff. He laid his clothes down on the ground again.

  “Alright, let's go,” he said enthusiastically.

  Hayley turned to look at him skeptically. “Who's got brass balls all of a sudden?” she said.

  “I just want to give our fans what they want,” Josh replied.

  Holly strolled through the park, enjoying the summer night air on her skin. She was dressed, and not for the first time this week, as Busterella. In fact, this was the third night running she had stalked the darkness in her vigilante get-up. She understood that only in comic books do superheroes loiter around in their spandex, waiting for purse snatchers and bank robbers. But she felt so powerful as her alter-ego. Maybe it was the number of men whose testicles had suffered torment and even annihilation at her hands, or perhaps it was the way the girls in her self-defense class continued to talk of Busterella as some kind of avenging guardian, but when she donned her cheap costume, Holly felt invincible.

  Invincible and sexy. Again, it could have been the memory of so many balls squashing, crunching, bursting against her feet and her knees, but as Busterella Holly was turned-on pretty much constantly. As soon as she got home, in fact, she planned to mentally replay a few of her favourite castrations while her fingers did their stuff.

  Home is where she was headed when she decided to take the scenic route through the park. She laughed softly to herself as she remembered her last visit here.

  At that moment she heard a shout in the darkness. Rounding the end of a tree line, she saw two figures struggling about a hundred yards in the distance. Their forms were lit, for some reason, by a pair of stage lights. As Holly crept closer, she saw that they were a man and a woman, or a boy and a girl. She saw also that the boy was naked. Some bizarre university art film, maybe, Holly thought.

  But no. Something about the way the protagonists were grappling made Holly think the girl wasn't participating voluntarily. She crept closer still.

The story had called for Josh to run up behind Hayley and grab her by the waist, with one hand covering her mouth. She would reach behind and squeeze his balls until he released her, at which point she would turn around, put her hands on his shoulders, and drop him with a ruinous knee to the testicles. After that they would improvise for a few minutes, before the denouement: a vicious stomp to the groin, with squelching sound effects to be edited in later.

  Josh had decided to make a few revisions. As Hayley aimed her knee towards his groin, he skipped backwards, evading the strike. Taking advantage of her confusion, he rushed forwards, crouching low to screen his balls, and tackled his sister at the waist. Hayley may have figuratively emasculated him over the last few weeks, but he was still taller and stronger than she was. Lifting her in a bear hug, he threw her to the ground where she landed in an awkward semi-crouch. Before she could get up, Josh grabbed the hem of her tank top and yanked it over her head.

  “What are you doing, you creep?” Hayley screamed. Josh couldn't tell if she was still playing for the camera or not. Locking his arms around her shoulders, he hauled his sister up in a half-nelson.

  “Just giving our fans what they want,” he said in her ear. Ensuring they were facing the camera, he freed one of her arms. Reaching over Hayley's shoulder, he took hold of the front of her bra and wrenched over her head, exposing her enviable breasts to the night air.

  “That's enough, Josh,” Hayley hissed through her teeth. “Fucking let go of me.” Josh was gratified to hear the mortification in her voice.

  “Maybe now you know how it feels,” he answered in an equal whisper. He released his grip on his sister and pushed her away. Hayley turned to face him. Immediately she had one arm around her chest, covering herself up. Josh was surprised to see absolute hatred in his sister's eyes. He made himself regain composure. This was nothing compared to what she had done to him. Finally he had Hayley at a disadvantage – he had no dignity left to lose. His cock and balls were on the internet for all to see. To really teach Hayley a lesson, Josh had decided to show her how that felt.

  He charged at his sister again. She directed a snap kick between his legs, but Josh was ready. He grabbed her foot out of the air and shoved forwards. Caught off balance, Hayley fell to the ground. With one arm still covering her modesty, there was nothing she could do to stop Josh from pulling her skirt down around her thighs. To his delight, Josh saw his sister wasn't wearing underwear. Despite her flailing legs, he finally succeeded in pulling her skirt off entirely. Hayley was now naked except for the thick boots she had bought with the revenue from their videos.  

Holly decided she had seen enough. Slowly, she moved towards the pool of light, before accelerating into a jog.

Josh held his sister's skirt above her head tauntingly. “Think how much money we'll make off of this one, sis,” he said, repeating back to her the words she had used so often. “Your tits and cunt for the whole world to see! Not so much fun, is it?” Actually, Hayley was using her hands to cover the aforementioned parts of her anatomy. But Josh was intoxicated with his humiliation of his sister. Revenge, finally, was his! Evading her kicks at his groin, he skipped around his sister's prostrate body and began to pick her up from the ground.

  For a fraction of a second, Josh didn't know what had happened. He was holding Hayley at the shoulders, but she seemed, somehow, to have... kicked him in the balls? Something was very wrong here.

  That was when the pain hit him. Hit him like a speeding train. He looked down and saw a disembodied foot buried between his legs. He also saw that his own feet were about two inches off the ground. The world seemed to have frozen – there was nothing except the all-consuming pain radiating from his testicles.

  Wow, thought Holly. She had never kicked a boy so hard in his balls before that he was lifted off the ground. Rather than admire her good work, she withdrew her leg and kicked Josh in the testicles again.

  If her first kick had been devastating, her second was lethal. Josh's balls stood no chance. He felt his right ball turn to pulp under the force of the kick. The pain he had been feeling was ten times multiplied. He opened his mouth to scream, and no sound emerged. He was on the ground, his hands buried between his legs. He didn't even remember falling. His fingers frantically sought out his testicles. Even through the unremitting, incomprehensible pain, he hoped against hope that he was still somehow a full man.

  His left hand closed around a complete testicle. His right found nothing, just a clumpy mush which sent white shards of pain into his abdomen the moment he touched it. Overcome with pain and horror, Josh slipped into unconsciousness.

He came awake into blinding light. He blinked a few times, and the light resolved into beams from the klieg lights. They had been repositioned around him. The pain emanating from what used to be his right ball was indescribable. His mouth tasted like he might have thrown up. His legs felt too heavy to move. Lifting his head, he saw the reason for this: Holly was perched on his shins, pointing her phone directly at his misshapen ballsack, providing a kind of running commentary.

  “... obviously I always wondered what a crushed ball would look like,” she was saying. “Pretty funny, it turns out is the answer. As you can see, my brother's right testicle is totally pulped. There's just... nothing left, like, at all.” She prodded at his ruined ball with one finger, causing Josh to shriek with pain.

  “You're awake!” said Hayley eagerly, training the camera on her brother's face. “Oh, but bad news,” she continued in a mock-sympathetic voice.

  “For God's sake,” Josh said weakly. “I need to go to hospital, Hayley.”

  “Don't worry, Joshy,” said Hayley. She wasn't lowering the camera. “We'll get you to hospital. There's just one thing left to... take care of,” she finished, with a mischievous smirk.

  That was when Josh realized his hands were tied behind his back. Out of the corner of his eye he detected someone else just inside the light's expanse.

  “Who's that?”

  A second face loomed into view.

  “The name's Busterella,” said Holly. Josh whimpered.

  “I don’t usually apologize for things like this, but, well… I’m sorry I crushed one of your balls,” Holly was saying.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody,” Josh started jabbering. “Just, please, call me an ambulance, maybe the doctors can still save…”

  A slow smirk spread across Holly’s face.

  “Aw,” she said. “Honey. There’s nothing there to save. Your sister and I both agree that calling an ambulance at this stage would be pointless. And by the way,” she went on. “I wasn’t apologizing to you. I was apologizing to Hayley. If I’d have known what I was interrupting, I’d have let her turn both your little balls to mush herself.”

  Hayley giggled and stood off Josh’s legs. It was only at this point that he noticed his sister hadn’t put her clothes back on. Hayley handed her phone to Holly, who repositioned herself on her knees behind Josh, and propped his head up against her breasts.

  “Fortunately,” said Holly, “you still have the one.” Josh’s eyes went wide with horror. Hayley burst into laughter.

  “That’s right, Josh! Obviously our arrangement doesn’t suit you anymore, so I’m going to take your last ball! I just want you to know that if it weren’t for that little stunt you tried to pull, I wouldn’t be doing this. So in a way, it’s your fault you’re about to have no more testicles. Just something to think about.” Hayley blew her brother a kiss and started walking away from him.

  In a panic Josh tried to free himself, but his legs were still numb, and with his arms tied he was totally at the mercy of the two women. Hayley turned around. Over Josh’s shoulder, Holly was training the camera on his sister. Josh started to plead, but Holly clamped her free hand over his mouth.

  “Remember how I was our team’s penalty-taker in school, Josh?” Hayley called. Josh mumbled desperately into Holly’s palm.

  Hayley set herself for her run-up, then sprinted forward. Her breasts bounced up and down as she began to draw her right leg back. Her leg seemed to rise and rise up behind her: Josh could see every muscle flex in his sister’s powerful thighs.

  With all the strength in her body Hayley kicked forward. The toe of her boot connected directly with Josh’s one intact testicle.

  There was a muffled popping sound, and both siblings realized what had happened.

  Josh’s eyes rolled back in his head as Hayley started pointing and laughing at him.

  “I felt it go pop!” she said. “Wow! Your little sister just castrated you, Joshy! No more fun between the legs for you!”

  “Way to go!” Holly said. The two women high-fived. Hayley bent down and prodded her brother’s pulpy ballsack. She couldn’t repress her giggles.

  As for Josh, he was slowly losing consciousness. The pain when his last testicle exploded had been too great for him to even scream. The fact that he was a eunuch now couldn’t even begin to penetrate the storm of pain. As blackness started to squeeze out his field of vision, he heard Holly say, “Now we’ll get you an ambulance.”

“It’s good to see you again,” chirped Dr. Miller.

  Josh took his seat with a wince. Although there was a faint residual pain between his legs, the reason for his reaction was Dr. Miller’s infuriatingly upbeat demeanour. This was his fifth meeting with her, the second since he woke up in hospital to receive the news from her that both of his testicles had been surgically removed.

  He did his best to banish the memory of that particular day. Although his memory was hazy from the anaesthesia, he had the strong feeling he hadn’t acquitted himself well. There had been tears, he was sure about that. What made it worse was that his mother and sister had both been in the room. While Kelsey had of course been distraught, there was one memory that was as clear as anything: his sister Hayley winking at him while Dr. Miller consoled their mother.

  Since then, Dr. Miller had commenced all their meetings with the same thoughtlessly breezy greeting, as though discussing the loss of his testicles with a beautiful woman were something Josh should have been looking forward to.

  “And how are we feeling?” she now asked him.

  “There’s not much pain…” Josh said. Dr. Miller waited for him to go on, an encouraging expression on her face. Josh swallowed. “It’s just that,” he said, “the hormone replacement pills you’ve prescribed me, they… don’t seem to be doing anything.”

  Dr. Miller frowned. “Well, it’s been four weeks since you began the therapy. We should certainly be seeing some improvement by now.”

  Josh shook his head silently. It was true – since the removal of his balls, he hadn’t been able to get a single erection. The drugs did nothing. At first he had assumed he was simply suffering from the aftereffects of his surgery, but when after three weeks he was still incapable of getting it up he had arranged an appointment with Dr. Miller.

  “You know,” she said, consulting her notes, “I do recall suggesting a psychological issue, the last time we had, uhm, this conversation. Things were a little different then, of course…”

  Josh blushed and looked at his feet. This was even more humiliating than he had feared.

  “In that you still had your testicles,” Dr. Miller clarified. “But, given the ongoing erectile problems even with replacement therapy, it is my professional recommendation that you see a psychiatrist. I have a list of names I can refer you to…”

  “How could I possibly be thinking myself out of getting an erection?” Josh asked through gritted teeth. This couldn’t possibly be Dr. Miller’s solution. “I never had to think about it back when I still had…” He trailed off.

  Dr. Miller looked at him sympathetically.

  “Many men struggle with feelings of worthlessness after an injury of the kind you sustained,” she said. Seeing the look on his face, she flushed slightly. “Sexual worthlessness, I mean, I’m sure you have a great many qualities, Mr. James… but, without your testicles you can no longer pleasure a woman or enjoy any sexual gratification of your own. Not to mention the… circumstances in which you were brought to us.”

  Hayley had told the doctors that she and Josh had had an argument while walking to Maya’s house, in the course of which Josh had turned around and walked off. Making her own way home later that night, she had come across her brother unconscious in the park, stripped naked and “with his, erm, ‘boy parts’ all crushed and pulpy,” she had told them. A victim, no doubt, of the criminal Busterella, who remained at large.

  Josh had told nobody the truth. Hayley had never uploaded their final ballbusting video – she had given him to understand, in so many words, that so long as he kept his mouth shut, the only people who need know about his castration were herself, their mother, and Dr. Miller.

  Who was still talking.

  “For your sister to find you like that must have been extremely traumatic for her, and perhaps you even feel, on some level, that this is what you deserve for leaving her to walk home alone through the dark.”

  “What?” Josh exploded.

  “Just consider it,” said Dr. Miller, passing a list of names across her desk. Josh saw angrily that they all seemed to be female. “I recommend a lot of impotent men to psychiatric therapy,” she said. “With counselling, some do regain the full enjoyment of their manhood. Not all, but… some,” she concluded, looking slightly sheepish. “Anyway, worst case scenario, it will help you adjust to life without your testicles. Please do let me know how it goes, Mr. James. It’s been good to see you again.”

That evening, Josh tried, as he had tried every night for the past month, to get his dick hard. His mother and sister were both out – he could take as much time as he needed. He lay naked on his bed and tried to coax some life into his limp penis, carefully avoiding touching the flap of skin which used to be his ballsack. With his eyes closed, he revisited all his old fantasies – none of his ballbusting ones, he had been well and truly cured of that fetish – but the classical sexual scenarios he had once dreamed of fulfilling with Maya Gillespie. He pictured the sumptuous curve of her breasts, imagined the warmth of her cunt and he slowly slid his fantastically engorged cock into her…

  Screams of female laughter exploded his reverie. His eyes shot open. Hayley and Maya were standing in the doorway, doubled over with hilarity.

  “No!” Josh cried, covering up what was left of his manhood.

  “Oh my God, it’s actually true,” Maya was saying through tears of laughter. “He has no more balls!”

  Hayley leapt across the room and pulled Josh’s hands away from his crotch. After a brief struggle, he stopped resisting. Maya had already seen everything – it wasn’t like he could get any more humiliated.

  Or so he thought.

  “I can’t believe you told her,” he said pathetically to Hayley. His sister released his arms and faked a kick at his crotch. Instinctively he flinched, drawing more laughter from the girls.

  “She didn’t tell me, Joshy,” Maya said. “She showed me!” Producing her phone she turned the screen towards Josh. To his horror, he saw a familiar sight – his sister, drawing her leg back, and back, before finally - .

  He looked at Hayley speechlessly. His sister shrugged.

  “I did promise her a copy,” she said, fake-guiltily.

  “And you have no idea how many times I’ve watched it, Joshy,” Maya said mockingly. “Your sister turning your balls into jelly is the best thing I’ve ever seen. So does your little thingy not work anymore?” she asked in a sweet voice. Hayley giggled.

  “I… have pills,” Josh said in a fluster. “I can still… still…”

  “You mean those sugar pills my cousin gave you?” Maya asked. Josh felt his insides go cold. The girls were laughing again. “Didn’t you know Jodie Miller and I are related? As soon as Hayley told me what she’d done to you, I called her up and told her about how you like to peep through girls’ keyholes. She agreed with me that it’s just better for females everywhere that you don’t get to have a functioning dick.”

  Josh’s mouth moved soundlessly. He looked at his sister, who only burst into further laughter at the expression on his face.

  “Now, as long as you play nice, Josh, all of this will remain a secret between you, me, and your sister. But, if I get even the slightest hint from my cousin that you’ve gone elsewhere for some drugs so you can pretend to still be a man, then this,” waving her phone, “is going straight online. I reckon it won’t be more than a week before the whole town knows how you lost your little balls.”

  Josh looked pleadingly at his sister one last time. “Why?” he said, chokingly. It was all he could think to say.

  Hayley pretended to think. “Because it’s hilarious?” she said eventually. “You’re going back to university as a balless freak! While all your friends are out getting laid, you’ll be stroking that worthless little thing between your legs and wishing you hadn’t messed with your sister!”

  Josh jumped up. “You fucking bitches!” he shouted. He advanced towards Maya and his sister, not knowing exactly what he intended to do – he only knew that they had taken away his sex life before it even started, and now they were mocking him about it. He could have done anything.

  Before he could get close, Maya’s leg shot out and thudded into his groin. Instinctively Josh doubled over, clutching himself. But of course, there was nothing left there to clutch at.

  Hayley and Maya burst into new fits of laughter.

  “Hope you enjoyed that, because it was the last time a girl ever touches you down there, Josh,” Maya said breathlessly.

  Josh looked at them both with hatred burning in his stomach. The worst part was that he was completely powerless – even if he attacked both girls, even if he somehow overpowered them and paid back even half the pain they had caused him, he would still be a eunuch. There was nothing he could do to them.

  As Hayley and Maya tumbled out through his door, they each turned and gave him the finger. The sound of their laughter rang in Josh’s ears long after they had left the house.