#use to stop him from removing the rubber bands

[lostcndfound]

Felix's Horns

or what they would've been.

Horns and antlers are signifiers of old families, powerful ones, in a lot of courts. His was no different. His mom was the literal queen after all.

Unlike with many real animals, they weren't a sexual dimorphic feature, they're a status symbol seen on all. So all eleven of Felix's siblings have them, as does his mom.

Felix was around the equivalent of ten when his were removed. Too old for them to be properly disbudded - removed before fusing to his skull. His had to be banded. A series of incredibly tight rubber bands applied at the base to slowly cut off the blood flow and kill the living connection to his horns until they fell off. It took months for even his little preteen nothing horns to die and fall off. Leaving uneven, bumpy little scars where they should've been.

Months of pain that varied from a dull itch to intense searing hell like a part of his head was dying. Because it literally was.

Had they not been removed, he'd have a pair of majestic as fuck curved over horns by now. Like those of a dall or a bighorn.

Sometimes he still gets a ghosting weight where they should be.

[screampied]

❛ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ HARLEYS IN HAWAII ❜ g. satoru

☆ sum. it’s been almost a year with your sugar daddy and as a candied sweet surprise, he takes you on his private yacht. although—the thing that’s even sweeter is the ‘love’ chocolates you both try just for fun. after all, satoru’s always had a sweet tooth.

wc. 6.6k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), unprotected, aphrodisiac chocolates, marathon séx, praise, dirty talk, overstim, dry humping, feral gojo, fīngering, cervīx mentions, cunnilīngus, spīt, hair pulling, size kink, premature ejac, breedīng, petnames.

➤ sd!gojo masterlist.

“ah ah, no peekin’ sweetheart,” a husky voice purrs near the nape of your neck. your plump lips curl into a pout as he’s making you drag your feet toward wherever he was taking you to. the air felt coolly warm, so much so that it was humid. satoru told you to wear something comfortable and warm, specifically a sundress. “there we go, jus’ a few more steps. good girl,” and the rubber bottoms of your flip flops stomp against something hard—you’re assuming the rising platforms were stairs. your ears perk and twitch a bit at the sound of crashing waves and you start to grow curious.

“are you—”

“shhh, quiet baby,” he shushes you, and you feel various designer cold band of his rings dance against your skin. again, once you step into what seems to be some wooden platform, he stops you from walking, turning you to face another way. big hands cover over your eyes and your own hands before he gives your cheek a soft chaste kiss. “m’kay, ready to see your surprise?”

with a nod, he removed his palms from your face and your eyes widen at the revealed sight. a yacht, not just any yacht though, but a private one — the satoru gojo yacht that was probably worth millions. it was huge in person, and you don’t even realize the two of you are both in the middle of the ocean until seconds later. “satoru,” you sheepishly say, feeling a wave of butterflies thump through your heart. the older man’s got the cheekiest grin and he takes off his sunglasses, putting them over your face. “when you said ‘surprise’ i thought you meant like new earrings or something.”

“i can always give you those too,” he strokes your cheek, watching as you fail to maintain direct eye contact. despite having the tinted expensive lenses protect your eyes from the sun, it still shined bright—making you squint a little. satoru’s voice pitches low before he playfully lifts you up, fixing the back of your sundress. “but sweetheart, this weekend’s just about you ‘n me,” and once your arms cling onto him, he starts walking near the lower part of the rumbling yacht. “besides, i have one more surprise to show you. felt like spoilin’ you a bit more today.”

you were quite literally living in luxury. .

as if the outside of the yacht wasn’t breathtaking, just wait until you saw the master bedroom.

despite how you were slowly starting to get accustomed to this lifestyle, his lifestyle—you couldn’t help but be amazed at such royalties being given to you. his yacht was even prettier inside, but this was the norm for satoru. and with him, he had no problem sharing his luxuries with you, his favorite girl.

just for you and no one else.

but you couldn’t think but get trapped in your mind at certain thoughts plucking through your brain. you started to wonder what would have happened if satoru was never a passenger of first class when you used to work as a flight attendant.

you’d constantly wonder the what if’s, but of course you were always always grateful. it’s one of the many thing’s satoru liked about you, how you were always thankful without even saying it. you’d show it, even going far as to giving him gifts.

“imagine we lived here,” satoru hums, leaning back against the satiny cushioned pillows. the entire room was spacey, with rose-gold paint covering the walls. he brushes a thumb over his cocktail glass as he sits on the burgundy sofa. the slick floor’s a sheeny beige color, and in the background, played some old vintage noir.

‘sunset boulevard’, one of satoru’s favorites.

he preferred lots of silent films and adored more than anything when the two of you would watch them together. he’s got on a silk red robe, twirling a bit of his white shown chest hair with a finger. “life on the water. sounds romantic, yeah?”

“what if we drowned, ‘toru,” you mumble, stepping out of the bathroom. the floor was made of slick glass crystals that made up the smooth texture, and you then pause—staring at the white haired man. he’s pretty, manspread and laid back with his hair slickly parted. ever since he’s met you, he grew his hair out a little and it slightly flows near his shoulders a bit. still unkempt and parted, it gives him a more maturely modern look.

his dimples poke near the inside of his cheeks before he simpers. “princess, we won’t drown,” and he sets aside his glass. satoru’s bright eyes linger toward your sundress—one of the many he’s bought you within in the past month.

it fit perfectly, it’s a cerulean blue color that almost matches his eyes.

if it was anything he liked, it was to pick out your outfits, and of course—he’d let you do the same for him. “phew,” he whistles, eyeing you carefully. “you look gorgeous. like always,” he murmurs, averting his eyes away from the screen and now giving you his uninvited attention. your plush thighs cling together before you feel the room of the yacht grow abnormally warm. “oh, right. the other surprise i wanted to show you, c’mere.”

“okay,” you mumble, making your way toward him. satoru slouches back against the cushioned sofa, spreading his legs even wider. slut, he knew what he was doing with his robe slit halfway open, exposing his growing chest hair. a snowy white curl of hairs glue against his chest and you gawk further down toward his lengthy happy trail. god, you found yourself swallowing thickly the more you stared and you could see the smug grin forming against his thin lips. “what . . is it?”

“i remember a few weeks ago you said you wanted to try tabs chocolate,” satoru mumbles, and you watch as he pulls out a thin black cover of rich chocolate. your eyes widened.

he remembered?

you stare at the pricey covered casing, already smelling the cocoa from the wrap. it was true . .

you teased satoru about wanting to try tabs chocolate one day, just to see if it was really real. you were curious on if the chocolate really could help invigorate and arouse people in the bedroom. satoru shrugs, glancing at the cursive writing displayed on the candy. “. . so, i got it for us both. i don’t think it really works, by the way.”

with an eye roll, you plop down on his lap. a beefy arm snakes around your waist before you grab the slim package. “i checked the ratings online. ‘m pretty sure it works, satoru,” and he gives you a complacent nod with his hands raising teasingly. calling your bluff quietly, he watches you tear the plastic all the way open. his eyes follow your fingers and how they swiftly drag away at the nearly wrapped material. once everything’s removed, it’s an entire dark chocolate bar with three perfectly attached squares. even the smell was arousing. “do you wanna try it at the same time?”

“how ‘bout you feed it to me,” satoru coos, and you feel what you think is his leg prodding underneath you. “i’ll feed you yours, sweetheart.”

damn, even his sentences sounded vaguely dirty.

you felt a lump grow in your throat before you blink thrice, holding up the bar of candy. “f. . fine,” you huff, and you watch as his perfectly parted lips sprawl apart. at the same time, you both slowly feed each other a small bite of the chocolate. the moment the rich taste of maca cocoa and sugar falls onto your salivating tastebuds, you let off a soft hum. it’s sweet, but you remember reading online that the effects would take a good twenty to thirty minutes to kick in.

satoru chews it, swallowing it and he scoffs. “honey, i think you just got scammed. nothing’s happening—”

famous last words. .

because not even thirty minutes later, satoru finds himself dived nose-first right between your legs.

he’s feral, on his knees for you and all. usually, satoru would shower you with lots of foreplay, kissing down your neck, your thighs, every part and inch of your body — but now, he couldn’t.

not when he felt so hot, his body felt like it was it was scorchingly on fire. and of course, satoru being satoru just had to lick your fingers after you fed him his single piece of chocolate.

you’re laid up on the sofa now, whimpering with a hand digging through his shaggy white locks.

satoru’s the most deranged he’s ever been, and you���ve seen him feral for you in more ways than you could count. he’s laying his tongue flat, lapping up your sweet folds, still tasting the chocolate on his tongue with the mixture of your own slick.

“f- fuuuck,” he’d huff, feeling his heart beat thump through his ears. it was barely even a big bite and he was like this. you couldn’t help but imagine how he’d be if he ate the entire bar.

you’re moaning, glancing out the window and taking in the breathtaking view of the dancing choppy waves staring right back at you. a pretty serene canvas of rotating waters—you found yourself getting lost at the sea, gazing at how the waters would violently crash against the bottom of the yacht. it’s a mesmerizing view. after a while, your eyes move back down toward satoru who’s still between your legs. he’s lowly groaning, slowly rutting his hips into the edge of the sofa. “ ‘s like the candy makes you taste sweeter.”

“don’t stop s- satoru,” you moan, making sure to keep a firm grip on his head. his pretty lashes were closed shut whilst he’s swirling counterclockwise circles against your puffed clit.

fuck, you felt a gasping shriek snatch out from the back of your throat once you felt him starting to suck. he was always messy - always.

tangled strings of saliva would dribble down past the corners of his lips, flopping onto your sweet cunt. satoru had the kind of tongue where you’d feel him everywhere.

he flicks it around everywhere, spelling out every letter of his name before spitting on it, licking it up directly afterwards. a palm smears his bubbling saliva before he laps it up again, thrusting his tongue in and out. “ooooh,” you’d squeal, feeling him wrap his mouth around your pussy. you’re twitching inside every few seconds and he feels your cute dramatic pulses. beryl blue eyes that blissfully shine against the sunlight flicker up at you briefly and he’s got that same smug grin again.

“mphm, pull on it,” he grunts, and you whine once he traps your swollen clit between his teeth, holding your throbbing nub hostage. satoru can feel himself getting more and more hard, all because of the sweet melodic sounds that left from your lips.

both lips, on one end you’re hysterically moaning and the next, you’re squelching repeatedly.

his favorite thing to listen to—satoru’s favorite place out of all the places he’s taken you to, had to be between your thighs.

at his words, you weakly give him a soft tug, grabbing a nice handful of his perfect locks and he gets tugged forward. “good girl,” he huskily grumbles, resuming to lick two long stripes up and down against your cunt. forever more, he’s savoring your syrupy taste that lingers on his tongue and dribbles from the chin down, moaning from the aftertaste of the chocolate that just won’t go away. “god, this view’s even prettier than the ocean,” he licks his lips, and you feel yourself pulsate once he breaks away for a split moment to catch irregular breaths.

satoru swipes a thumb over his naturally glossed lips, whistling against your pussy just to feel your sensitive nub throb on his tongue even more.

“oh, she’s a cutie,” he rasps, white brows pursing together. he pulls out two long fingers, preparing to delve them inside. “so pretty ‘n all soaked just for me,” and you moan, your thighs curling around his shoulders. squiiish, the moment he’s easing his lengthy thin fingers inside, you gush out a bit right on him. you were indeed wet . . sopping.

you were already a bit drenched from before, and with the chocolate, you felt even more aroused. it felt like being on a rush - a sugar rush.

satoru huskily coos, delicately curling his fingers further inside before he reaches your g-spot within just two inches of a stretch. “there it is, there’s my other favorite girl.”

“sato—fuucckk,” you drag out your pathetic words, gradually moving his head to side against your sopping cunt with one hand. he’s got his mouth full, stuffed, and his entire face was just flushed from being squished between your thighs. “like that, s- suck my clit, baby.”

“baby, huh?” he mocks your sudden pet name, feeling your fingers comb through his messy frosted strands. embarrassment washes over you and he chortles, finding your reaction to his teasing downright adorable. you whimper as he’s still vigorously scissoring long twin digits inside of you. as your stomach submissively caves in, you start to gnaw on the bottom of your lip. “aw, don’t be shy. i like bein’ called petnames too, y’know,” he whispers against your cunt, watching how easily you soak up both fingers.

your folds couldn’t help but drool. streams of your own slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers.

with a rosy flat tongue, he slurps you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers out - only to push them right back in.

as your eyes squeeze shut, you start to feel your teeth clench and shatter together from the rhyming pressure.

there, once the fat tips of his fingers poke against your g-spot again, and again, and again. .

that was all it took for you to let off a cute three second shriek. abruptly, a sharp twisting coil snaps within you and he feels your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp.

“fuck, fuck,” you whine, feeling his lukewarm breath continue to ghost against your clit. you couldn’t stay still for the life of you—it was as if every muscle in your body snapped once you came, your jaw dropped and your eyes widened.

“ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and satoru’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.

you’re making a mess out of him and he’s eating it up - like always. his pointed chin’s got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your glimmering slick running down. with a echoing ‘pop’, he slides his fingers out of your cunt, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. “ngh, s- satoru you’re so nasty.”

“only nasty for you, sweetheart,” he cheekily whispers, leaning further in to give your cunt one single kiss.

it’s a soft passionate smooch that makes you throb against his lips. only satoru gojo could make out with your pussy right between your thighs. you’re speechless—you could feel yourself still shaking from your recent orgasmic release, the ringing in your ears never subsiding.

satoru’s pretty azul eyes remain fixated on your wet cunt before he gives it one final suck of departure. “mmph,” and his growing white stubble starts to drench even more all because of your sweet slickness that smears against your the lower part of his face. “fuck, ‘m still hungry. ‘s not enough.”

as your legs twitch and remain spread apart, you’re gasping for air as you watch him take breaths of his own to collect himself. “don’t pout,” he huffs, sitting up to close the distance between you both. with his hair all ruffled and tangled—he grinds himself into you. “oh. you want a taste too, pretty?”

“y- yeah,” you nod with droopy eyes, feeling the same amounts of sheer heat.

satoru’s flushed just as much as you, and it seems like as he’s leaning into you, he’s moving in slow motion. once his lips crash onto yours, you moan into his mouth.

he wastes no time shoving his tongue down your throat, pulling on the straps of your sundress. you feel a wolffish grin curl against his lips once his tongue delves even further into your mouth, feeling you part your own away. satoru can’t help but grind against your warm body, feeling your legs hook around his waist. even the touch—the skin against skin makes you both even more hotter. it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you were about to feel yourself short circuit any minute.

“fuck, ‘toru,” you whimper between sultry sloppy kisses, loud teeth smacking and clashing together. you slowly drag a hand down his hairy chest, twirling a frosty strand around your finger.

the taste — it’s candied sweet.

the rich cocoa still lingers on both twisting tongues and you moan, feeling him nip his teeth near your lip. “you’re perfect,” he gruffly purrs, his voice having its same deep rasp. his kisses become more and more filthy and rough and he playfully licks underneath your chin. “mhm, woman you drive me crazy.”

satoru was still very much hard though—very.

you could feel his boner poke from his robe, it must’ve felt painful.

he was so hard, it outlines against the silky woven fabric the more he grinds into you. satoru couldn’t keep his hands off of you. he’s leaving an invisible trail of kisses all down the slope of your neck, sucking against your tender exposed skin. you always tasted sweet than any chocolate he’s ever eaten.

but it’s to his surprise once you lightly push him back against the cushioned sofa.

“hmph! hey,” he falls back, white strands sticking across his perspiring forehead. satoru eyes you with a bewildered look, wondering what’s with the sudden bratty glint shining in your dilated irises. “that was rude, princess. oughta—”

“lie back,” only two words and he was at your very command. satoru couldn’t lie, whenever you had the audacity to give him orders . . he found it hot.

even if it didn’t last that long,

the white haired man slouches back at your command, roving his eyes down your body. he studies the pretty sundress that hugs against your curves and the way you move.

satoru ogles openly as you made your way on top, straddling him before slowly throwing your arms over his broad shoulders. “relax satoru,” you’d breathe, and he groans the moment electrifying friction kneads against his lap. all because of your hips swerving on his raging boner, you cause a spark that ignites within you both. to say you were a ‘mere’ tease was an understatement. “like that, hold my hips baby,” and his big hands gradually move toward your rocking waist. you start to jerk against him real slowly, casually grinding yourself on his lap. you swerved around, guiding his hands to where you wanted them to go.

“oh, s. . sweetheart,” he choked out a nervous laugh, his boner steadily arising underneath his robe.

for a moment, the two of you forget that you’re both on a yacht, surrounded by nothing but smooth pretty bodies of water. it was as if it was only you and him in the entire world. time stood still. it was like you were moving slow, and the more your body moved, the slower time got.

satoru stares at the way you playfully sway your hips against his. he groans, the cloth from his robe that protects his hardened cock continuing to rub against his skin. “you’re killin’ me here. let me touch some more at least.”

“ask nicely,” you lean in closely, pressing a kiss near the left side of his cheek. satoru shivers from your touch, his jaw feeling heavy. such a tease, but that’s what he got for spoiling you rotten.

with a near pout, satoru grumps. “please, sweetheart,” and his big hands glide toward your active waist anyway. “let me touch my pretty girl while she’s movin’ her cute hips on me,” and his playfulness returns within a blink of an eye. you hear the cheekiness in his voice and he leans in to nip a kiss near your neck. “fuckin’ brat.”

“then do something about it.” you whisper with a coy grin, resuming your salaciously addictive movements against his lap. satoru grunts, his brows contorting together in frustration before he grabs your wrists, pinning them up.

satoru’s now got you in a secure grasp and a hand snakes down your waist, giving your ass a soft squeeze. a jiggling nice chunk goes into his palm before he seductively licks up your neck. “i plan to, little girl.”

and he did.

one second you’re on his lap—the next, you’re lightly being slammed on all fours, cheek smushed ruthlessly against the padded sofa.

you squeak out a tiny gasp, feeling him practically tear your sundress apart. satoru groans, staring at your bare ass cheek that’s peeking out of your loose clothing. you’ve got a bratty smile twirling against your lips but it soon fades away once you feel that.

his fat tip—satoru brings it up towards the opening of your sopping cunt, smacking it three times against your folds. “you’ve got some nerve, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, hearing your broken whimpers return.

god, even your pussy felt warm against him. fiery electricity surges through you both and he hisses, watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock wholly.

he’s so big, you knew it and you didn’t even have to face him directly. all you had to do was feel.

his tip was round and thick, reddened with a rosé flushed color. satoru tosses his head back, feeling your pussy twitch against him as a sloppy greeting of its own.

“heh. she’s so excited,” he breathes through clenched teeth, already breaking a sweat. the yacht continues to slowly create distance in the background but at that point, no one was even thinking about the yacht. “so. fuckin’. wet.”

he smacks his weighty dick against the outside entrance of your pussy, hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds. as he’s hitting his tip against your cunt, he purposely punctuates his words with tap.

“satoruuuu.” you’d moan, desperately aching for him to just go in already. you wanted it, and the searing heat you felt coursing through your veins just from the chocolate made you throb ten times more.

“i know, baby. i know,” he coos in a rough voice, talking over your whiny babbles. panting heavily,

satoru glances down once his leaking tip finally disappears inside of your drenched cunt. you let off a shaky breath, even going so far as to wriggling your ass back against him just so he could hurry the fuck up.

“tsk. so impatient,” he snickers, velvet straps of his robe skimming against his skin. satoru’s got a bulbous fat curve and with a single hand, he gives his cock a few stroking pumps.

one, two, three . .

he groans once a bit of loose skin from his coral colored frenulum peels back. as he’s stroking himself every few milliseconds, a prodding vein pokes against his palm. bristles of white hairs that glue against his thickset base tickle against his skin.

“mhm, gonna take my time with you. now let’s see that cute arch. just like we practiced.”

moaning, your back raises slightly with your knees cowardly burying themselves into the sofa. “mmph,” and he lightly pushes your head further into the cushion. his tip was so close.

he’s hitting you from behind with his thrusts slowly, on purpose.

he wants to hear those sweet sounds cry out from your lips. satoru grunts once he’s finally going in, thick cock stretching around your elastically stretched walls.

you’re so soft — sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. satoru groans, giving his chiseled hips a single shimmy before pursing his lips together.

“thaaat’s it, hngh. this pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen once you feel his plumpish tip delve further between each corner of your slick cunt. he’s fucking thick, and within seconds later he was already inches in.

once his flushing crown disappears inside of your cunt, you whimper once he gives you one single thrust that causes your entire body underneath him to quake. “fuck, ‘s so sensitive,” satoru nearly whines, still feeling tingly from the saccharine flavored treat. he’s panting heavily, mouth dangling open and all. “how’s it feel, sweetheart? ‘m not going too rough, yeah? talk to me.”

“good. feels good, ngh. don’t stop, ‘toru. harder,” you beg, a hand of yours reaching from behind, crawling near your ass. you eye satoru through your blurred peripherals as you turn slightly around and he flashes you a sleazy grin.

that’s the look he makes before he’s about to fuck you stupid,

that’s the look where his eyes were hooded and half lidded, panting heavily like a dog with multiple thin strands of white hair sticking across his forehead.

you were fucked, literally. .

“hah, wasn’t gonna,” he moans, feeling his cock grow insanely sensitive. it was in a way he couldn’t explain—so hot, his head swells up once he starts to move.

as he’s trying to create a decent rhythm with his hips, he’s oscillating deeply into your core. sloppy thrusts pound into you with such carnal vigor that he’s basically humping against your cunt.

every few elongated seconds that dragged out, his tip mercilessly smacks against that target buried deep inside your cunt, striking a perfect bullseye.

‘x’ makes the spot, and his dick always knew where to locate your clit — every single time.

it doesn’t take long before satoru loses it, and he’s losing his momentum. his movements consisted of want and ache.

the head of satoru’s cock was turgid, slowly dragging in and out of your puffed clit as you damp up his entire length. you whimper, feeling the legs of the sofa rattle and jitter from underneath you both. he’s got mean deep strokes that leaves your jaw dropped, toes curled, tummy churning all from how good he’s hitting you.

you’re cutely smothered into the pillows with your mouth just pried open, forming a small gasping ‘o.’

every stroke, every hit, every smack against your ass, you felt like you were on cloud nine - the lewd dirty version no one ever talks about though.

satoru’s got a big hand tracing down the curvature of your waist that later trails down toward your ass. he can’t help but feel against the thin fabric of the sundress, tempted to just rip it off it you. he’d be happy to buy you dozens more anyway.

“fuck me, fuck me satoru,” your eyes roll crisscross, and your entire body feels itself repeatedly ringing from the merciless slaps of skin hitting against each other with determined might to reach his well awaited potency.

he’s bucking his hips against you, watching as tears of sweat start to race down the cracked valley of your ass. “fuck, ‘toru, satoru—ah!”

“heh, sweetheart the walls aren’t soundproof,” satoru playfully bonks the back of your head. your moaning falters, and he chuckles mid-thrust. “aw, don’t be embarrassed,” and you let off a soft gasp once he presses his sharp hips all the way against you. a beefy arm wraps around your neck in a safe hold before he grunts in a husky whisper right up against your ear canal. “ ‘m sure the captain won’t mind, be as loud as you want.”

“s- shit,” you whimper, already starting to feel your thighs struggle to stay afloat. satoru towers over you completely, rutting into you from behind with irregular toe-curling hits.

he’s meanly jackhammering you further into the sofa, the screeching sounds of the seagulls outside growing louder. the loud reverberating claps of skin that roughly ricochet against skin makes your ears ring like bells on a wedding day.

as he’s feeling his cock tighten inside of you, he’s now got you in prone bone. he’s so close to you, hovering his weight behind you with his sculptured hips glued to your ass.

satoru’s thrusts now go slow, slow but deep, making sure you feel, savor, and devour every single inch. “ugh, that spot ‘toru, right fuckin’ there. ‘m close.”

a hand goes over your mouth and you let of a muffled, ‘mmph?’ as he’s still fucking you raw.

satoru’s popping his bulbous crownhead in and out of your stuffed pussy before lowly groaning once coolly air briefly sets against his skin.

“watch that mouth,” and you whimper, feeling his free hand grab near your neglected breasts. you lean into his touch, feeling a bit of your own saliva dribble onto his palm. a thumb of his swipes against your perked nipples that poke through your sundress and you let off a muffled moan. “such a filthy pretty mouth. ‘s a shame,” and he leans in more, licking a stripe near your neck. “i don’t think girls with colorful mouth’s should cum. do you think they should?”

as if on cue, your head raises up and down, doing a cute attempt of a nod as he’s still got your mouth covered. satoru’s still thwacking his fat cockhead into your g-spot continuously until your brain’s short circuiting.

“awww, yeah?” he hums, pressing a kiss near the back of your head. and oh, he’s cocky again, deepening his hits against your core. removing his arm from around your neck, he raises your hips up just a little bit for a more better and thorough angle. “too bad, because i wasn’t talkin’ to you, silly girl.”

and you moan even louder once a rude buck of his hips snaps into you at such untamed speed. you gasp right away, your entire body trembling beneath the sofa. “talkin’ to her,” and as his hand drags down your back, he maneuvers a few circles against your stuffed clit.

you’re whimpering, occasionally glancing out the window. the waves continue to crash against the port side of the yacht background — beautiful.

you’d never get used to the view. the salty smell of the sea wafts against your flaring nostrils as you’re literally being stuffed full of cock, eyes rolling back with your back completely arched. satoru’s so big, splitting you open with his vast mushroom tip so easily. “god, she’s got so much to say today, listen to her cute ‘lil sentences,” and he briefly pulls out, hearing your cunt ‘pop’ out a word or two, wetly squelching from the continuous thrusts.

satoru’s throbbing cock drooled from the sides with seeping white droplets of pre-cum and he groans once he feels himself tightening yet again.

“fuck mee,” and he takes a second to stare at your pretty cunt that’s got your folds slobbering with so much honeyed glistening sap. “aw, she said no,” he teases, dragging a sleazy thumb down your pleading saturated entrance. your mess quickly soaks against his fingertips, making him just as wet as you. satoru feels you writhing against his touch, begging for him to finish and he chuckles. he tsks, wrapping a hand around his shaft before another hand wraps around your neck. hmm. does the pretty baby deserve it? after that ‘lil stunt you tried to pull on me?”

“s- satoru, please,” you moan, feeling your weak legs gradually buckle against the fuzzy furniture. you swallowed whatever pride you had left, feeling your mouth suddenly grow dry as the anticipation grew.

you were so close - right there. practically. gnawing on the bars of your enclosure.

he knew had to tease you, keep you on the edge of your toes. with your ass cutely trying to raise up and move back against him, you let off a sobbing moan. “lemme cum, please. ‘m sorry.”

“no you’re not, sweetheart,” he whispers. aligning himself again between your sniveling slick slit, his wide pink tip leisurely starts to stretch throughout your gummy walls yet again. oh, that part. the way his hefty hanging curve twists its way inside, you felt like you were tasting literal ecstasy. “are ya?”

“no,” you moan, still having a bit of brat left in you.

satoru snickers, the expensive band of his watch gliding against your hip as he holds you in place.

“at least you’re honest,” and you shudder, feeling him lick a long stripe up your sensitive jugular. his girth was so broad and wide, you feel him dip every inch inside of your cunt and you were sure you were gonna break.

he treated you like a doll—specifically a rag doll, tossing you and fucking you where it hits good.

but, fuck was satoru was ruthless.

he’s unapologetically sloppy with his thrusts, making you grind back into his pivoting hips. as his sack hangs back against his loose skin, he smears his lax lips together, groaning at how effortlessly you were squeezing against him.

“fuck, you’re gonna make me cum too, sweetheart,” and as his body’s still pressed right against yours, he hoarsely grunts lowly against your ear. “give it t’ me, make a mess on ‘toru, baby.”

his words poured into your ears like silk, smooth like honey. each sentence he spoke had an effect on you, more than the love chocolates ever did . .

you felt your pussy sporadically convulsing just from his raspy out of breath tone alone.

satoru’s rotund cockhead continues to bruise against your cervix, sloppily kissing around each spot until you’re practically screaming out his name. “louderrr,” he purrs, kissing down your neck once more.

the coarse smacks of skin continue to echo against the walls of the spacious yacht bedroom and satoru grunts.

oh, he’s whipped.

his hips start to slow down by each second, and you feel that pressure within you finally snap. “that’s my girl, thaaaat’s it,” and he talks over your whimpers yet again, creating a wet trail of kisses down your shown shoulder blade. “atta girl, atta fuckin’ girl.”

the both of you groan in unison and after a while, he shortly follows. satoru’s cock was so full, he’s snapping his hips into you at such a wicked speed that you could barely keep up. his stamina was simply unmatched.

you let off a whine and so does he—seeping his teeth into your neck. “hngh, fuckin’ shit.” and as he grabs both of your hips, slowly reeling you back into him - he’s cumming, hard.

thick ropes slowly spurt into you, spraying right near your womb and he lets off the sexiest moan.

it lasts for a good seconds, and it’s like he got defeated — your pussy being the opponent. .

satoru’s washboard abs flex beneath his rope as his head tosses back. it’s an almost growl that leaves his lips. his sensitive tip locks into your tightening entrance, still feeling ribbons of satiny ropes dribble into you at such a snail like pace. it’s so much.

he’s staring to pant more and more as globs of sweat pouring down the sides of his forehead. satoru’s cock shrivels up inside of you and he gives your ass a soft spank. his sweltering hot crown stills itself inside of your cunt as he stays still, lavishing in the sensitivity of both slick mounds enjoy the sticky feelings of fluids combining in lewd felicity. both bodies rut against each other and now it was his turn for his eyes to roll back.

“s- satoru,” you quietly whimper out, feeling the bubbles of creamy wads ooze down between the fat crevices of your thighs.

a lustrously white ring forms around his tender base before he gradually starts to pull himself out. you’re still reclined, feeling your entire body heat up even more. your sundress was still pulled up to your waist and he groans, tugging at the fabric with one hand, another touching his own mess he just created that’s spilling down your thighs.

“such a sloppy girl,” he huffs, out of breath. even still, he’s cumming inside and merrily fills you up to the very brim.

you moan once he slides back in, only to pull his aching tip right back out out. it’s another loud ‘pop’ that resounds through each of your twitching ears.

holding a sharp breath, satoru’s cock slathers itself against your drooling pussy before smacking it against your folds yet again. “look at that, ‘m never gonna get tired of that sight.”

satoru ends up fucking you stupid for hours on his yacht.

in all positions—any position, he moved you toward the bed, folding your poor limbs like a pretzel while his cock continued to massage through your walls by stretching you open. satoru made sure you never forget the barrage he made inside with his lengthy length.

satoru was always whipped for you, but it’s like with the addition of chocolate, it made him ten times more feral. ten times more feral for you.

he’s hungry, you could see the look in his eyes. how his pupils were blown, how he made sure to give you romantically deep yet nasty strokes.

his body would rock against you in sync against your own while the yacht that carried you both continued to judder in the background.

he pumped you full—stuffing you entirely again, and again, and again . . simply put, he was virile.

like he said before, you drove him crazy, and he was starting to think to himself, maybe . . just maybe, you weren’t just his sugar baby anymore.

each time he’d spray a generous amount of cum inside of you, he’d let out a loud guttural groan. he’s weak from how warm you feel from the inside, and your moans for him to keep going only fueled him. satoru’s a literal animal, manhandling your body and fucking you everywhere he possibly could in the master bedroom.

the sofa, the bed, the wall, against the mirror. .

his favorite,

he loved to wrap a hand around your throat, making you stare at your lewd facial expressions right with him. the way your glossed lips would part and your eyes would widen once he makes you stare at the slight bulge that pokes against the lower part of your tummy. he’d serenade something to your ear in a purring deep voice like, “feel me there, sweetheart?” making you touch the exact spot he was hitting.

a pearly stream of his seed dribbles outside of your folds and now, he’s got you in nothing more but an intimate mating press.

“eyes up here,” he rasps a soft panting tone, gently prying your hands away from your face.

he’d just coaxed you through yet another orgasm, and your entire body felt like it just ran a marathon. you were sure by now the effects of the chocolate had worn off for the both of you - it did.

but with satoru, he looked like those many rounds didn’t even faze him. not one.

he’s still lodged inside of your cunt, his tip spitting out thick ropes for the nth time of the night and he groans. your eyes glance down his snowy happy trail and glance at his sharp v-line that’s tensing up from the stimulation. “you . . took me so well,” and he leans in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.

“mmf—” your arms wrap around him, entrapping his skin waist with your legs. his toned body rocks itself into you for just a few more times before he steadily pulls out. his flaccid cock rests against your bare tummy and you moan, tasting the last few remnants of sugar that lies on his tongue.

satoru’s heart beats rapidly, and once he opens his eyes to stare at you, he knew you were dangerous.

tresses of white hair glue against your skin once his forehead lightly pressed against yours. within seconds, after he found himself pulling you into another deep kiss, something was different. this time, out of all the kisses you shared with him, you think this one meant something more.

it was far more slow and passionate, his body rocks against yours and he groans in your mouth, feeling your hands scratch down his soft skin. you leave a painting of scratches all down his back, a canvas he can’t wait to look at later.

as your tongue continues to tangle with his, strands of spit form into translucent cobwebs before he starts to suck on your tongue. “god, woman you drive me insane,” and he pulls away, completely out of breath. his pretty lips were all glossed and swollen, and he cups your face. “sweets, i—,” he cuts off, locking eyes with you.

his heart was pounding,

telling him to say it - just say it.

but the way you gave him that look . . your arms remain wrapped around him, limbs tangled with each other and he lets out a soft sigh. delicately, he pulls out and watches you let off a soft moan once you were now clenching around nothing.

“ah,” he shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of your quivering lip. “i . .” and a lump gets caught in his throat.

you strum a thumb against his undercut, a simple gesture that you knew would always soothe him.

the white haired man leans into your touch, his heart practically yelling at him to just spit the words out before he speaks against your lips, slowly lifting up your leg, kissing your ankle.

“i think . . i think ‘m in love with you, sweetheart.”

[gojomaki]

cw: stepcest, brat fem!reader, nsfw under the cut, oral fem!receiving, creampie, breeding

when olderstepbrother!nanami picks you up from university and you sit on his passenger seat when suddenly he stops by a house and a gorgeous older woman walks up to his car, the window rolls down, and she goes "oh, your younger sister is with you? cute. can she sit at the back seat? i'm used to seating beside you, and i don't seat at backseats."

when olderstepbrother!nanami gives you a glance, so you let out a scoff and look at the woman outside the car, her blouse almost failing to cover her big tits, her skin white and smooth. you pull your phone out of your bag and dials a number. "hey, ken." you greets, the man beside you has his brows furrowed, "yeah, pick me up at five, i'll sleep at your place... uhuh... see you ken, bye." now you're gathering your things and removing your seatbelt, the woman giving you a big fake smile.

when olderstepbrother!nanami wastes no time to lock the car doors and roll the window up, driving away from the woman, not even glancing at her by the side mirror, his eyes dark and grip on the steering wheels tight, the sleeves of his office shirt gets tighter around his forearm, the drive home took ten minutes when it is normally a 30 minute drive.

when olderstepbrother!nanami held your pink duffel bag and your fourth dior saddle bag that he bought you a week ago with his one hand, his other gripping your wrist as he pulls you inside of your parents' home, being back after four months made you miss the smell of chamomile tea your mother loves and the fresh cookies that she loves to bake but you had no time to reminisce as he drags you up to his bedroom, your parents not even noticing that you two are already home, his car already pulled up at the driveway.

when olderstepbrother!nanami pushes you on his large bed, letting go of your bags on his table full of your skincares, his other hand locking his door. "i don't remember you knowing another ken." he closes the distance between you two, "i don't remember you having someone used to seating beside you too, ken." you lazily mumbles against his lips that is already tasting every inch of your mouth. his hand groping your neck as his other hand pushes you into him closer.

when olderstepbrother!nanami reassures you that it's only a friend who your mother invites for dinner, as he eats your pussy so good you had him drunkenly sucking at your clit for 10 minutes, your newly manicured nails griping on his blonde locks, his right hand groping both of your tits as his other hand travels down to his erection, freeing it from his slacks, stroking it the same pace he enters his tongue in and out of your pretty pussy. lapping at your juices, trying to make yourself not make a sound but the way he looks at you as he lets out a low "mmmh" sends out vibrations straight to your spot you got yourself cumming right there and then. gripping his head by your thighs, he doesn't let any of you go to waste.

when olderstepbrother!nanami got you holding on for dear life as he slaps his heavy and girthy dick on your swollen pussy three times, making you scream "ken! please!" at the fourth time, him leaning down to suck on your tits as he eases his way inside you. "f-fuck, so tight sweetheart..." he whispers against your chest, your hand having their way on his nape pulling him closer to you and you feel yourself clench, adjusting around him as its been four months and he's just so big. "breathe, darling... let me in fully..." he kisses his way to your face, you scratch his back when you felt his full and heavy balls slap against your ass.

when olderstepbrother!nanami flips you on your stomach, placing a pillow under you for a more precise angle, sheathing himself inside you painfully slow, letting you feel all of his veins and curve even with his condom on, he grunts at your ear as he feels you reach for his base, looking for the rubber band of the condom, you tries pulling it, your head looking past your shoulder as tears build up around your eye, "r-remove it ken... fill me in, i missed it...." and it took all of his morals as he pulls out immediately "Ah!" you yelp as you clench around nothing, feeling yourself pulsate at the sudden emptiness.

when olderstepbrother!nanami pushes his entire cock inside you, his palm immediately falls on your mouth as you scream a moan, he grabs your two wrist behind you, he kneels on his bed, pulling you closer to him, a full nelson as he rams his whole length in a fast too deep pace it had his balls slap so heavily against your clit when he pushes your stomach back this bed again. "you're making me insane..... i'm gonna fill you up with my cum... carry my babies.... you won't leave this house for your last semester without having my cum run down your thighs..." he grunts, watching the sinful scene of his cock entering your pussy, the way your hole swallows him whole had him pushing his entire weight to you.

when olderstepbrother!nanami lifted you with his one hand, his dick never leaving your insides. he lays down on his bed as he turns you to face him, your thighs shake as you feel your orgasm washing through you, the twitching of his dick making you feel too stimulated, you tried removing yourself from him, "t-too much.. k-ken, wa-wai— ah!" he slams your body down, feeling his cock shoots cum into you, his tip pushed against your cervix you swear you saw stars.

when olderstepbrother!nanami didn't stop there, he immediately ruts into you again as he hold your waist, poor cunt being abused by her brother, his cum trying to spill but he keeps on bringing it back where it belongs, the sheets being too sticky, ropes of white clinging onto your thighs and his but he doesn't care, he removes himself, both of your liquids gushing out but he just laid you sideways, lifting your right leg, he eases himself in again, grunting as you feel his warm babies being shot on you again :( his hips not stopping to push and pull and push and pull and push and PUSH!

when olderstepbrother!nanami finally lets you rest so you tried reaching for your phone, his hand on your waist, your head on his bicep, his dick still twitching inside your abused cunt, your clit red and swollen, your sticky and still shaking thighs, you dial a number.

when olderstepbrother!nanami hears you giggling over the phone, "kendra, i just got dicked down and filled. im so so so enjoying this break!"

poor mr. and mrs. nanami downstairs who thought that their dear children and their son's potential girlfriend went out and grabbed their own dinner when their children are literally upstairs, their precious daughter cockwarming their hardworking son (and the potential girlfriend will not see them anymore).

lolllll i had to write as we're so lacking in stepbrother nanami who spoils his brat younger stepsister :)

[aniniwrites]

... So You WERE staring!

Summary: The HOK and Martin are resting for the night at an inn early in their journey to Weynon Priory. Things get awkward when it's time to get ready for bed. ONESHOT A/N: This is more barebones than your average story because I wrote this intending it as a small script for a comic I wanted to draw. However, I thought it had enough substance to be read on its own. HOK referred to with she/her pronouns. Otherwise, there's not much in the way of descriptions, so this is like a glorified x reader.

...

She shakes off the dust that had gathered on her tunic as she gets up from bed.

She yawns and stretches a bit. "Well, we better be off to bed..." she trailed off, eyeing her sleepclothes, then flicking her eyes at Martin on the other side of the room.

The priest tensed under her stare. Nervously, he stood up from his bed to leave.

"Ah... Not to worry, I can wait outside while you change-"

"No! Wait-"

He turned to look at her in surprised amusement. She bit on her thumbnail, her eyebrows furrowed as she considered their situation.

Not looking at him, she continued. "I'd like to not leave you out of my sight if I can help it." Then she locked eyes with him again. "I'm supposed to protect you."

Martin felt momentarily insulted, before the reality of his assassins and their power settled heavily on his chest. He wished he could say he wasn't a damsel in distress, but his situation was unfavorable. And, the thought of someone attacking her while he is out of the room struck him as a possibility as well, just then.

Still, he hadn't been in the same room as a lady undressing in some time. During times he wished not to re-live.

"I wouldn't want to make a lady uncomfortable." He tried insisting politely.

A trembling, tired sigh escaped her. "I promise... It's fine. Anyways, we'll have to get used to this on the road when we may not have the luxury of an inn."

He considered her words and decided going along with her was better than extending her mortification. So long as she changes quickly, they can get through this.

"Just... turn around, okay?" She said. He hummed and complied. "And no peeking."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sitting on the furthest edge of his bed, he looked down at his shoes and tried not to focus on the sound of fabric unfastening, unbuttoning, and softly falling to the ground. Or her groans of relief as she freed herself from her more tightly fitted pieces of armor.

He places a hand over his eyes in frustration, realizing like an idiot that he has done nothing but successfully focus on her state of undress.

The rustling of fabric stops about a minute in, he commends her for her speed. He can hear her making slight noises still, huffing and hmphing at something.

Testing, he turns his head slightly. "All done?"

"Don't look!"

His head springs back around much like a rubber band, tearing his blue eyes away from her direction.

"I'm not!" He responds rather quickly, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Nh-... Good. Don't look until I tell you." She commands through her struggle.

He stays facing the wall, which is slightly lit from the dying candles in the room, and tries not to notice her figure as her shadow slips onto the inn wall. He tries not to notice the way her chest was puffed out and how her hands played at her back. All with the most torturous noises leaving her lips.

Damn it. He should have thought ahead to blow those candles out.

Minutes passed, and still she had not announced she was finished. He took the opportunity to remove his own robe, glad to be free of the garment after days of wear. Yet even when he was finished, nothing came from her.

By the Nine. What is taking her so long!? An eternity, he felt, he had been staring at this wall!

He risked turning his head again, this time silently. He only barely stopped himself from losing his composure and letting an exasperated noise escape him as he beheld his companion in disbelief.

Her back was facing him, and her hands were clumsily and desperately clawing at the claspings of her small clothes. Shaking and grumbling all sorts of curses at the wicked thing.

His eye twitched.

He found it half amusing, half ironic that someone so capable in the battlefield was having such trouble undoing her own underwear.

He suddenly felt heat go to his stomach, and it was as if the spirit of Sanguine weighed down his left shoulder. It smirked at him under the candlelight, telling him to go help her unclasp her bra, he has... apt experience and skill at it, after all.

He shook his head and tried to do the same with the thoughts. He was a priest! Such thoughts had been dormant and buried since he well took his vows!

Still he sat unmoving, watching her shake and rage in vain at her bra for a bit longer. Kicking the floor in desperation from time to time.

But then, he felt a wind caress his right shoulder. Divine and sensitive, logical thoughts came to him. Such as: help her unclasp her underwear - so you can both be through with this rather uncomfortable situation.

...

... What-?

He frowned at her figure, and mostly at himself, and whatever gods were giving him that advice. But he saw himself agreeing with their judgement. This needs to be over.

He gulped as he silently stood from the bed, tiptoeing his way towards her sitting form at the edge of her bed.

His hands inches from her back, he realized he didn't want to scare her.

He cleared his throat, "Excuse me..." He said carefully, reaching out as gently as he could.

She let out a quiet gasp as his hands masterfully undid the clasps of her small clothes before she even had time to turn around.

He pulled his hands away from her, gingerly making sure not to touch the newly exposed skin. She wrapped an arm over her breasts, keeping the bra on top of them for cover.

They stared silently at each other for a few moments, her face and upper body turning many shades of red as she looked at him in his bed trousers, and the tip of his ears unexpectedly matched her red hue.

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed and glinted dangerously at him, and he realized too late his foolish mistake.

"So... You WERE staring!!!"

Her scream resonated and shook the walls of the building. He recoiled in fear - never had he imagined a normal person's lungs were even capable of such loud shouting!

He rushed to cover his eyes and blindly tried to run away as he profusely offered her many nervous apologies. He barely dodged the first three pillows she sent hurdling towards him. But, the fourth pillow hit him on his upper back and sent him falling face first onto his mattress with a grave oomph.

As her yelling settles down, he sighs wearily onto his bed and finds himself thanking the divines for making him the heir of the late Emperor for the first time since he found out the miserable news in this misadventure...

... Because that's probably the only reason he's currently not nursing a slap to the face or some other mortal wound.

[marshmallowprotection]

That last ask about nighttime car rides with Saeyoung made me think. Roadtrip with Saeyoung across the continental US. the kind of trip that lasts a couple of months bc you wanna see EVERYTHING. and man there is just so much to see

Yeah! Absolutely! Think about all of the places you could go together because there's no way you could do it in a day. Hell, I don't think that people could fully explore the United States in its entirety without the understanding that it could take lifetimes to do that, not a month, nor a year, but a few lifetimes! You can try to make a bucket list of places to go and things to see, but most people's lists are only an overview!

The fact is, there is so much to see here that you will never run out of things to do! Once you do something, five more things will pop up in their place. But, I think that would be appealing to Saeyoung. He was only able to spend a few months in California as a teenager, and back then, he wasn't focused on sight-seeing. He stayed in his dorm, did a lot of extra work, and maintained a low-key exposure to the people in close proximity to him that he couldn't control.

I mean, when you think about it, he probably got to see a few things out there simply by the matter of needing to take a flight and get to his classes, but we both know he didn't enjoy it. How could he enjoy this country so far removed from that tiny house he lived in without Saeran? He sustained himself on the bare minimum because he had no sense in experiencing joy without Saeran.

And it's not as if Saeyoung hasn't traveled across the world for the agency, but once again, we know he doesn't let himself thrive in the moment. Get in, get out, come back to the bunker, rinse, and repeat. So, letting him return to the United States gives him a chance to do what he couldn't do when he was a teenager, and that's to explore this country that gave him a brief taste of freedom before he went deeper into the agency and they held him at gunpoint.

I think the sweetest thing about Saeyoung is that there's no "wrong" pit stop. You wanna see the largest rubber band ball? Cool! So does he! A giant ice cream cone? Let's go! This silly food eating challenge at a diner in the middle of nowhere? Sign me up! He makes traveling feel exciting because his lust for life never ends.

[copinghex]

Fool's gold | T.S

Summary: Amongst the dark, a glimpse of hope shines in Eleanor's life when she finds out Tommy is not indifferent as he shows.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Chapter 3 - Something great.

Her responsibility. Her mother taught her so, Ruth Clark affirmed a man with tidy clothes, belly full, clean house and balls empty would never leave. Eleanor started to doubt it.

Tommy Shelby, the man she loved, had already left, the only remains of him were the eyes she'd fallen for, occupying the face of a gangster she didn't know.

His sharp new haircut and muscular body contrasted with his expensive suits, upper class men didn't look like that, they were classier, carefree, deprived of the tension Tommy had on his shoulders.

Eleanor saw how much he changed and accepted the sentence, her sleepy-eyed boy was gone. Nevertheless, life went on, there was always chores to do and whoever she was engaged to would starve if she wasn't around.

—

Closing the betting shop wasn't easy, no matter how spotless she left the floors, the next day it'd be filthy again. Eleanor didn't complain. No one demanded she cleaned it, but she was sure there'd be unwanted reactions if she didn't.

“Do you need help?” Polly showed up at the kitchen doors.

“No,” she mumbled, wringing the dirty cloth in a bucket, “Actually, yes, can you set the table for me?”

Just few more steps until she finished, tomorrow the place would look brand new, the apron's spots in which she dried her hands matched the cloth's color, gray like the much she cleaned off.

Her back hurt and she'd have to drown her hands in moisturizer to keep them soft. This was just a drop into the glass of her routine, a glass she feared was about to break, when it did, she'd make sure no one got cut by the shards.

If she could only leave, leave to somewhere near the coast, somewhere she'd clean and it'd remain clean, somewhere she was seen.

A sharp pain on her hip bone brought her back to the betting shop, bumping against the edge of a desk was common when she had her head on the clouds. She cursed, throwing the mop in her hands to the floor.

Eleanor leaned on the wooden surface, squeezed her eyes shut and only opened them again when the pain was gone. In front of her, there were the books with the day's profit, usually Tommy took them all to his office at the end of a shift.

She never entered the room. It was a part of Tommy's privacy she didn't dare to surpass, wouldn't it be kind to put the folders there though?

Checking all entries, she moved quietly, step after step, calculatedly, her breath stopped as she got close to the door, nothing was heard from the inside, she got in.

The smell of cigarettes was the first to greet her. Tommy's belongings were spread all over the place, a used cup near a whiskey bottle, gun holster on the hanger, a full ashtray, the day's newspaper and a light layer of dust that made her nose wrinkle.

Closing the door behind her, Eleanor placed the books on the desk and stopped, breathing in and out, waiting for someone to come in, nothing happened, she went further.

Tapping on his chair, she took his seat, uncomfortable in every way, the backrest was too far away and there were springs poking under her thighs, besides it was too close to the wall, limiting the movement of her right arm. If she went easy on buying new wool every week, she'd raise money to buy him a new one.

Why should she? Her mind painfully remembered.

Going through the drawers, she found fully used books, papers from Finn's school and receipts. The first was heavier than the rest, lost in curiosity, Eleanor removed item by item until she got to the bottom.

Under countless papers and old documents, there were letters tied by a rubber band, all of the letters she sent to France, some she was sure went lost. They felt heavy in her hand, she had a similar set in her belongings with very few answers.

Beneath the last letter, a deteriorating picture of them, their heads leaned together while she held tightly to his arm, she remembered feeling like such an adult back then, engaged and full of plans. Currently, at the age of 26, Eleanor stared at her 20 year old self and realized how innocent that girl was.

That youngster fought her mother for Tommy, certain that Ruth was blinded by bad rumors and old fashioned values. Tommy had a bright future, not as a doctor or accountant, but he loved her, he loved her to the point of breaking and that was enough for her.

Ruth thought Thomas would shove her daughter into a caravan and disappear. Tommy thought he'd work with horses and have a simple yet happy life. Eleanor thought she'd live near the sea, Tommy would provide by working in some rich prick's state and she'd make some extra shillings selling crocheted trinkets.

They were all terribly wrong.

Putting everything back in place, she left the office. There was no future for her and Tommy.

—

The houses in Clapgate lane looked better, funny (or of incredibly bad taste) how some minutes of walking away from Watery lane could significantly improve the neighborhood.

In front of her mother's door, she hesitated, the words Ruth once told her were still fresh into her mind, if you leave don't worry about coming back. Back then, she just wanted to help Polly and Ada, they were manless with five children to take care of, while Ruth counted with Matthew, the second child.

Sighing, Eleanor got herself ready for humiliation, besides the broken heart she'd have to admit she was wrong about Tommy, blind to what seemed obvious to Ruth and all of the neighbors’ venomous tongues.

Can I come back home? She rehearsed, knocking a bit too softly on the door. If no one answered, she'd have an excuse to go back to Watery lane, where Tommy certainly wouldn't be waiting for her.

Matthew opened the door with a furrowed brow which lit up at the sight of his sister. She'd been so invested in the Shelby affairs that she barely remembered the last time they'd met.

“Hi,” she hugged him, “is mum in?”

“No, no, she's not, come in,” he opened space, “she went on a walk for the nerves, y'know what she's like, I'll make us some coffee, I think there's still some of the bread she made, if not I can buy some biscuits-”

An entertained smile crept on Eleanor's face, soothing her shoulders. She remembered when Matthew was young, Ruth didn't allow him to play football inside the house and freaked out when he disappeared to play with his friends. He was a man now, taller, stronger and much, much more talkative.

In the kitchen, he joked on how Eleanor should be the one to make the coffee, she was the one engaged, it'd serve as training.

“So, what upset her?” she asked about Ruth, “Besides the usual,”

“...you don't know?”

Tensing up on the spot, she slowly put her cup down, a thousand possibilities ran through her mind like darts to a target, none truly hit the center.

“Know what?” she gulped, “What I don't know?”

“Tommy came here, he was here just now,”

“T-Tommy?”

“Yeah, he- you really don't know? The last letter mum sent you, we thought he came on your behalf,”

“Matthew,” she leaned in, “You need to explain, what letter? I haven't received any- Why did she send a letter? We leave twenty minutes apart!”

“Ellie, mum sent a letter asking you to come home, he came here because she accused him of not treating you right, you know the things she always said about him,”

“He came here,” she whispered to herself.

“Yeah, he told her to leave you alone and ensured you were alright,”

“Tommy came here,”

In trance, she fidgeted with her cup, what did he intend by that? For fuck's sake, they were barely speaking. At the same time, hope blossomed into her heart, the almighty Thomas Shelby took the trouble to steal her letter and pay her mother a visit. He still cared.

“Yeah…” Matthew drawled, weirded out by her reaction.

“What else did he say?”

“That you lived with him now, by your own choice,”

“Hmm, right,” she smiled, “Matthew, you're a man, right?”

“Damn right I am,”

“What do you think of this? Do you think he wants to get married?”

“Marriage is tough, I mean- It's nice but...”

“But?”

“Well, the man came here, dealt with the shrew all right, I think you can expect something great.”

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

Disease - Chapter Eleven - Goodbye - Ettore

Summary: Ettore finds himself face to face with a new inmate, his ex. Will their tragic circumstances bring them closer together or be the end of them?

Read on Ao3

Masterlist

Warnings: smut, violence, murder, MINORS DNI, 18+

Word Count: 2.5K+

Chapter 11 - Goodbye - Ettore

His head was on her belly. His arm was draped around her prone body cushioning her in a squeeze of a hug. His lips gently kissed that beauty mark on her hand. 

“I should have used my words.” 

After months together on this ship Ettore had finally let himself break down. He didn’t know what their future held, but he knew he needed to tell her what had happened. 

“You’re right.” She mused pushing her fingers through his hair, nearly long enough to tug. “But I understand. Now I understand.” 

He had come to her tonight. 

Ettore had planned that he would enact his loose idea of a plan right before Dibs could figure out who fathered Amelia’s child. He hadn’t woken her, just laid his head on her belly, a bit lumpy and hard from the early stages of pregnancy. 

His baby. 

He recalled that over and over again before he told her. 

Ettore had been scared that night. Of himself mostly. He did love her. He always loved her, but something had broken inside him letting his monster free. The years of not taking control had taken over him as if he were a rubber band finally snapped. He took whatever loss of control to heart. 

That man had taken his girl. 

She had taken as well. It was in her right to take her revenge. He had felt that monster burn inside. 

He was so afraid when he finally let his hands from around her throat. 

He could do that to her again. 

Ettore WOULD do that to her again. 

There was too much love there to allow himself that sliver of happiness. 

He could not risk harming her again so he removed himself from the equation. He let his anger and hurt out in terrible ways on others. She wasn’t there to rein him in. Amelia wasn’t there to offer him his name as anchor back to the reality they shared together. 

He drove himself away to never hurt her again. 

Now he was here, resting on her belly filled with life. He was hurting her again this way too. Ettore supposed he couldn’t help himself in hurting her. Perhaps that was the price of love, a tug between hurt and absolute devotion. He nuzzled his nose into her skin, feeling her pet his him softly. 

“You’re here. You’re here now. That’s what matters most.” She continued to play with his hair and tickle his nose. Her fingers tugged at the warm edges of his ears. 

He whimpered a bit. 

“I didn’t forget you. I’ll never forget you.” Her voice was so soft and full of wanting. 

Ettore looked up at her from under his lashes. He suckled at her hand feeling his body react to her touch. If this was the last night they spent together he wanted her here and now. 

Just like this. 

He moved, a predator in only a small sense. She seemed to welcome his lips with open arms. He pressed gently to her so she could feel his hardness. Amelia lowered his boxers so that he was able to kick them off his ankles. Her fingers tugged at his ears again as he continued to kiss her. He couldn’t count how many times she said his name. 

Each time made his heart sing, skip beats. 

This was what it was like to be in love he thought. 

This was what it was like to love someone so much it made his heart hurt to part from her. 

“I will never leave you again.” He told her. 

He watched her face. Ettore wanted Amelia to believe him. He wanted her to know it wasn’t just him anymore. It had never been just him. From the moment he met her, he knew he had endangered himself to anchor himself to her. 

Her love had hurt him. 

Her love had saved him. 

Their love would kill them both if given the chance. 

“Stop acting like this is the last time.” She said when he sheathed himself fully inside her. Amelia’s fingers pulled at his hair. “It will work. It will all work out.”

Ettore could not save himself from falling into kissing her. His hips were slow to press into her. He had never been more careful with her body then he was now. He minded himself as he moved slowly into her letting his thumb tease her clit as he moved. With each stroke she whimpered against his lips that never left hers. 

His name was whispered against his flesh. 

“I’ll never leave you again. Both of you.” He did not press too hard into that little bump. 

He felt the tears gather at the corner of his eyes. The pleasure built inside him nearly boiling over. He felt her hand against the small of his back encouraging him to roll his hips against her a little harder. 

“I love you, Ettore.” Amelia breathed. Her voice was high and deliciously on the edge of her own desire. “It’ll work. We’ll be happy. We’ll be together. I never want anyone else. Only you. Only you, Ettore . . .”

His name. 

His name on her plush and raw lips was all he ever wanted to hear. 

Ettore didn’t want this love making to end. 

Yes, he knew he wasn’t fucking her. 

Ettore was making love to the only person who would ever love him, the only person HE would ever love. 

Her hips pushed up to meet him. Her lovely little sounds were so soft and beautiful as he cried. Fuck, he didn’t hate that he was feeling so good that tears were spilling from his face. When he felt her kiss and lick his tears, a pureness escaped him he did not know existed within him. He breathed out letting his eyes close, crying more as he released inside her, an orgasm that blinded him to all reality they shared together. 

Hers was small and controlled though he felt her little nails dig into her. 

Amelia peppered him with kisses not stopping the momentum even as they both came down from their high. 

“Don’t leave me.” 

“I won’t. I promise.” He palmed her belly. There was fear in Amelia’s eyes. He hated seeing that. He kissed her cheeks feeling how vulnerable he was naked on top of the woman he loved. “As long as I have breath in me -” 

She cut him off with a kiss. 

“But I take your breath away.” She teased with a sweet little smile that slowly verged on devilish. 

He watched her, the emotions wave in and out of her face. 

Uncertainty.

Hope. 

Love. 

Desire. 

Anxiety. 

Trust. 

This woman trusted him. She loved him. He could not fail her. 

He would not fail her. 

There was a dark silence that fell in the room. He saw Amelia turn her head toward the doorway of the the little room. He knew what that meant. His hand snaked under her pillow to grab at the scalpel. 

“You.” Was all Dibs said. 

Ettore acted. All his rage at the doctor for hurting HIS girl bubbled up to his fingers wrapped hard around the metal weapon. His entire strength pushed her against the wall. She struggled. Dibs was stronger then he imagined, but the scalpel buried within her collarbone. His soft cock pressed against her hip causing a bit of pain as he caged her against the wall and himself. 

She bit at his hand that went to cover hee mouth. Ettore twisted the knife into her flesh deeper feeling the hardness of her collarbone as the blade moved. Blood bubbled from the cut. 

“You hurt her.” It was a hiss. 

“But you chose to kill her, you fuckin’ idiot.” It was muffled, but he could hear it as she struggled to survive the wound. 

“No, we are leaving.” 

It sounded so much stronger out loud than in his head. His hand slunk into the doctor’s pocket for the key to one of the escape pods. He had been secretly studying the scamatics of the thing for weeks, instead of sleeping. He had broken into the offices he needed to gain this information. Dibs rarely had the keys except on certain days when she had opened the pods for yearly maintence. 

Tonight had been one of those nights. 

“You won’t survive.” He heard the uncertainty in her voice. He pulled the scalpel out, stabbing her. 

One. 

Two. 

Three times in succession.

“You can’t control us anymore. You’ll never hurt her again.” The body fell in a slow slump to the floor. 

He turned to Amelia, the bloody scalpel in his hand. She was crying, a soft flow of tears flowing from her face. 

“I didn’t want this for you.” 

“It was needed. I would do anything for you.” He was on his knees beside her, keys and bloody scalpel in each hand. He kissed away her tears. “Is that why . . . you killed him? Back then? You didn’t want that sin on my soul?” Her little nod was slow and easy. “You can’t save me, love. You can only cage me in.” He rubbed his nose against her, sniffing in her natural smell. 

It made him hard, just being here with her, smelling her sweat drenched flesh and salty tears. 

“Let’s go.” He whispered, giving her a sweet kiss on her temple. 

He dressed. He grabbed his boxers, rolling them over his cock which was half hard. He heard her little sigh and giggle. Amelia palmed his covered cock. He warned her not to. They were on a time limit now. They might have a lifetime of desire if they pulled this off. He found a pair of slacks and a dark black shirt. 

Amelia pulled herself out of bed. 

Fuck, she was gorgeous, long hair she pulled back with her little hair tie, white shirt that he could clearly see her pert little nipples, and soft low hanging black pants. He held her up under her armpit. She leaned against him even though she didn’t need much help. Her face snuggled into whatever surface she could get from him. 

Ettore could feel how hot she was. 

“I didn’t realize murder turned you on.” He joked as they passed Dibs body. 

“Not murder,” She cooed. “You protected me. You are protecting us.” Her eyes motioned down to that little bump covered by her slacks. 

“We’ll be okay, love. My beautiful girl.” Ettore kissed her forehead. 

They moved out of the room. 

The pair were careful when moving on the eerily silent ship. Their feet padded softly though Ettore felt they were too loud. Her little breaths were soft against his skin as she squeezed close to him. She was relying on him. It frightened him to realize in that moment two people would be relying on him. 

The responsibility of it hit him with a bit of a tremble. 

He could focus on that fear once they were in the pod. 

Ettore could focus on the rest of their lives once he smelt the dirt of earth again and not the fake -

Tcherny was standing between them and the entrance of the pod. He had a set of tools next to him. They had all been put away. He felt Amelia slowly pull the scalpel from his hand. The older man’s eyes slowly looked over Ettore and Amelia. They fell on Amelia’s belly. 

The two men made eye contact. 

***

Ettore was buckling her into the escape pod. He made sure the harness was tight, but not tight enough to hurt the baby. He stroked her little bump looking down at it. He let himself imagine it getting larger, feeling it swell with life, even feeling the little life kick within her. He ignored the blood that he now realized was staining his hands. 

“Do you think it’ll be okay?” There was the fear in her eyes again. 

“I don’t know.” He admitted. 

They would have to be in hyper sleep for three years while the pod made its way back to Earth. He had already plugged in the directions. He had settled on their time. He’d wake up a little earlier then her to make sure things were okay. Ettore didn’t know much passed getting them into hyper sleep. He certainly hadn’t thought of if their baby would survive. 

He hoped. 

Ettore really hoped. 

He leaned down to kiss her belly one last time. 

“I want it to be.” She said through teary eyes and a wide smile. “I want us to be okay.” He held the side of her face. Her cheek was so soft and round, not the swallow cheek he saw when she first got on the ship. He pressed his forehead to hers before kissing her there, then her lips. 

It wasn’t a passionate kiss, but one that held devotion, promise, and joy. 

“I love you, Amelia. No matter what happens. No matter what. Just . . . know that.” His thumb ran over her lower lip. 

He let her say one last thing before letting her go into a three year sleep for their journey. 

“I love you, Ettore. I came here for you. I am leaving with you and so much more.” Her fingers tickled her belly. 

He punched in the code to put her to sleep. Slowly her seat rolled back. A slick shield covered and molded to her body, protecting every aspect of her. His heart leapt into his throat at the thought their child might not survive the hyper sleep. That maybe they might not survive. 

If this was the last time, he was content with that. 

Neither of them were good people. 

Neither of them deserved to escape, to be happy, but they were selfish. 

They wanted to live. 

They wanted their love to survive.

He could be his best self with her. 

If they deserved to live, they deserved to live together. 

Once she fell into her deep sleep he moved to press in the pod’s course. It disconnected from the prison ship with a resounding hiss. Fuck, he wouldn’t miss it. He’d rather die in space than rot on that vessel. However, memories of their time there settled in him. 

He had reconnected with her there. 

They had conceived their child there. 

Those memories would stay with him forever. 

He settled beside her in his own seat. Ettore let the audio pilot of the pod begin to work as he was strapped in and slowly rolled back to fall into a three year sleep with her. He wished he could hold her hand. His fingers twitched to reach out to her. Instead he let his eyes focus to the cold white ceiling covered in a film of blue lights. 

It reminded him of the bar he met her at. 

The club with pulsing music echoed in his head as the shield covered him. 

He remembered whirling around to see her for the first time. 

She was against his type. 

Amelia was everything he didn’t want. 

In the end, she was everything he ever needed. 

She was perfect. 

She was his. 

It was his last thought before the sleep faded his vision to black.

Author’s Note: Despite the title of this chapter this is not the end. We have one more chapter, an epilogue of sorts. When I was writing this I knew I wanted a happy ending, not only because sad endings really put me in a funk, but because it was something I had not seen before in a story about Ettore (not that he deserves a happy ending in those other fics). I decided on this ending before I realized the actual logistics of the lore established (three years in space!). After my initial how do I get out of this feeling I decided it’s my story I’ll make up what I want lol High Life is already a pretty bizarre film so more suspension of belief is not uncalled for.

[crowandmousewritingco]

Guitar Picks and Drum Sticks

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Paring: trans!Dio x punk!Benny

Words: 1.3k

Rating: PG (I don't know whether it did be G, PG, or PG-13 due to language)

Warnings: Hints of past transphobia and foul language.

Summary: Benny, the drummer for a local punk band, Guilty Until Innocent. Dio, the bassist for the local goth band, The Dreamed Echoes. Both find them selves kicked from their bands on the same day, and then happen to find each other on their ways home. After talking for a bit, they decided to play together some time. Will something more come out of them hanging out?

Author: Mod Crow

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*Benny’s POV*

Sitting behind the drums, Benny tapped out random drumlines using his well loved sticks and the rubber rim guard. Getting lost in his own little world, Benny was oblivious to what his bandmates were talking about. 

“Hey, Benny, can the guys and I talk to you for a minute?” Looking from the drums to Cyprus, the lead singer and the person he’s known the longest, a look of questioning. Without getting up or saying anything, Benny laid his drumsticks across the top of the snare drum and gave a soft nod. Staring at his bandmates, Benny could feel the pit of his stomach get tight and heavy, something bad was going to happen and he knew it.

“Dude you’re a kickass drummer, and this is a kickass band,” Benny’s pale and piercing eyes flicked to Hasan, the band’s bassist and the newest member of the band. Hasan had only joined because the man that Benny had been talking to -who said he was down to join the band- ghosted him last minute. While watching him, Benny could see Hasan getting uncomfortable, almost like he was scared to say the next part. “Fuck man, Mars you do this shit.” Benny’s normal hard and cold look, softened with confusion. Looking to Mars -real name Marlowe- Benny knitted his brows together.

“Cyprus I don’t know why you tried to make Hasan this shit, mans a massive pussy.” Hearing Hasan start to say something in return, Mars raised their hand stopping Hasan’s word in their tracks. “Look man the three of us think you’re talented as fuck drummer, but you aren’t the drummer the band needs. Your play style is harsh. Too harsh for us.” Benny sat there on his throne, brain replaying one part of the sentence just said to him, ‘you aren’t the drummer the band needs.’ 

“Let me get this right, you three came to a shared decision that I’m the one in the group who isn’t,” Benny raised his hands, while talking he bent his fingers in the air to signify quotation marks. “What the band needs.” Benny looked between the three others, his cold and hard look morphed into one of annoyance. As the four of them existed in silence

“Yeah, well fuck you guys. The music sucked, I was the only reason people showed up to those shitshows we called concerts.” Snatching up his drum sticks, Benny turned from the other three guys who he -only five minutes earlier- called band mates. Walking out of Cyprus’ garage, Benny raised the hand holding his drum sticks just high enough to show over his shoulder, and erected his middle finger. A final salute to the remaining members of Guilty Until Innocent.

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*Dio’s POV*

“Hey Dio, Raven and I need to talk to you.” Dio looked up from the bass that he was -only seconds ago- tuning. Carefully removing the strap from around his shoulders, Dio opened the beat up case that kept his bass safe. Once empty handed, Dio looked up to the other two of the band, Raven and her girlfriend, Ember.

“What’s up? Are we changing the set list for this weekend’s show or something?” Dio stood up from the amp that he had taken up as a seat. Now on his feet, Dio looked down slightly to the others. Normally Dio wasn’t taller than others, but he had finally gotten himself a pair of new boots. 

“Umm…no actually. Know that Rose and I love you Dio, you are still one of our closest friends,” Dio furrowed his brow, both confused by what Ember was hinting at and frustrated about how she seems to be beeping around the bush. “We’ve been talking these past couple days and we think it’s for the best that we continue The Dreamed Echos as a two person band rather than it being the three person band it is now.” Dio had to stand there a second, he was being kicked from the band? The band he helped put together. The band that he wrote ninety percent of the music for.

Nodding to the two of them, Dio bent over and collected his things, his bag, notebooks, phone, small things like that. Once he was sure that he had all his smaller things in his bag, he carefully picked up his bass. Turning to face the two women, Dio looks between them. Clearing his throat, he talks, his voice cold and almost emotionless, “Have fun with my band.” Shoving past them, Dio walked upstairs from Raven’s basement, and then slipped out the back door. The late September night air, chilly compared to Dio’s skin, or at least the small amount of skin showing.

Walking home, Dio could feel the anger bubbling in himself. How could two of his closest friends -or at least that’s what they were- kick him from the band he helped form? Scoffing to himself, Dio turned down the dimly lit alley that he always takes home. Dio liked the alley, hardly anyone walked down it in the day, but at night? No one walked down it, no one dared to with the increasing crime rate in the area. 

Feeling his shoulder collide with something, or rather someone, Dio turned his head to look at the person. Dio was expecting a homeless person or a junkie, but it wasn’t either. No, the person who had run into Dio was a taller, well built, blue eyed, punk man who didn’t appear to be much older than Dio.

“Sorry man, I wasn’t paying attention and I’m not really used to people walking down this way at night.” Dio watched as this other man reached up and scratched the back of his neck. While doing so, Dio could see a bit of tattoo peeking out from under his shirt sleeves. Snapping his eyes to the man’s face, Dio shook his head softly.

“You’re fine. I’m not really used to seeing others down this way at night either.” Dio stood there for a moment, feeling the heavy awkward silence. Eyes scanning over the stranger, Dio was looking for something that he could relate to. When Dio’s eyes fell on the drum sticks in the man’s other hand, he nodded towards them.

“You play drums, so does that mean you’re part of a band?” Dio looked from the drum sticks back to the stranger’s blue eyes. Before the stranger answered, Dio watched as he shook his head, chuckling dryly.

“I was a member of Guilty Until Innocent, but they just kicked me from the band with no fucking explanation.” Dio could hear the bitterness in the other’s voice, he could also relate to that bubbling anger that the other was feeling. 

“I get that. I was the bassist for The Dreamed Echos before they booted me saying that they thought it was best for the band. Which doesn’t make any sense because I’m  the one who came up with the name and I wrote most of their music.” Dio shook his head, still in disbelief that he had actually been kicked. 

“The Dreamed Echos? Why does that sound familiar?” Dio was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of the stranger’s voice, but before Dio could answer, he was talking once again. “The Dreamed Echos, isn’t that that band with the two goth girls?” Dio sighed softly as he nodded. Clearing his throat, Dio stuck his hand out, wanting anything to change the subject.

“I never got your name, granted you also didn’t get mine. I’m Dio.” Feeling the brunet grab his hand and give him a shake. The first thing Dio noticed was how surprisingly soft the drummer’s hands were. 

“I’m Benny. Dio, now that’s a cool ass name. It kinda sounds like you could be Neo’s evil brother or something.” Hearing Benny laugh at his own joke, Dio couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of his own. The dark dressed man wasn’t used to people saying things about his name, at least not kind things. When Dio had come out to his parents and told them the name he was choosing, his dad made a comment on how his -now dead- name was given to him and it should be something that he cherished. But how could Dio cherish a name that wasn’t his own? His deadname was one forced upon him, it was a name attached to the image of the perfect daughter that his parents wanted but didn’t get. 

“I should get going before it gets any later, can I maybe get your number? You seem pretty rad and I’d love to get together and shoot the shit or something like that.” Dio nodded, being pulled from his thoughts. Pulling his phone from his bag, Dio handed it to Benny, and Benny did the same. Handing back Benny’s phone, Dio took his back and slid his phone back to where it was just moments before. 

“I’ll call you later sometime,” Watching Benny start the walk in the direction he was going, “Bye Dio.” All Dio could do for a moment was stand there and watch Benny walk off, when his mouth finally caught up with brain, Benny was long out of sight. Mentally cursing himself, Dio turned and continued on his way home.

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*Benny’s POV*

One week later

Plopping down on the couch, Benny let out a tired sigh. This past week has been non-stop havoc, first his work had called him on both of his days off, he had to run his roommate, Frankie, to the ER because Frankie thought he was just as qualified as any roofer to fix the leak, he wasn’t, then Benny and his brother, Will, got food poisoning from some sushi place that Will had heard of on the radio.

Leaning his head back on the couch, Benny pulled his phone out from his pocket. Unlocking the phone, Benny scrolled around on it. As Benny scrolled mindlessly, he felt like he was forgetting something, but what? Sitting his phone on his lap, Benny thought to himself, what was he forgetting? When the memory of what it was he was forgetting Benny quickly picked up his phone, unlocked it, and maneuvered his way to his contacts. Scrolling through them, Benny was looking for one name in particular. Seeing the name, Benny’s thumb hovered over Dio’s name. What if Benny waited too long? Was a week too long or was it too short? What if Dio thought Benny was weird because he didn’t wait enough time?

Swallowing back the anxiety bubbling in his throat, Benny pressed Dio’s name. Watching the small call button pop up, Benny hesitated for only a moment. Hitting the call button Beny brough the phone to his ear. Listening to the ringing, Benny was certain that Dio wasn’t going to answer the call.

“Took you long enough to call me.” Benny felt himself relax at Dio’s joking tone. Chuckling Benny responded in an equally joking tone.

"What can I say, I didn’t want you to think I was obsessed with you or something.” This time it was Dio who chuckled.

"Oh no, please, be obsessed with me. Please fuel the ego that I definitely have.” This time the both of them shared a laugh between the two of them. Once the laughter had died down, a silence hung between the two of them, but it wasn’t an unpleasant silence. 

“Oh! You were in a band and kicked too. I was wondering something,” Benny leaned forward on the couch, eyes looking toward his room, “Would you wanna play together sometime? I play drums which isn’t as important, but I saw you were carrying a guitar case.” There was silence again, this time shorter lived.

“It’s actually a bass guitar, but I’d be down to hang and play a bit.” Benny felt a smile creep onto his face. Opening his mouth to talk, he heard Dio speak up once more, “Also, drums are like the backbone of a band. Sure the guitar and bass play the recognizable bits, they wouldn’t be able to if the drums weren’t there helping keep some kind of rhythm.” Dio’s voice was softer this time, not in volume, but in tone, his words normally felt sharp and stabby, but now? Now Dio’s voice sounded like his words and tone was laced with relaxation and maybe something else. Something that Benny couldn’t quite pin.

“Cool, do you want to come over to my place or yours?” Leaning back again, Benny laid his head back, his head resting on the back of the couch. As Benny sat there in the silence he could feel a subtle anxiety creeping up his spine, sitting up on the couch a bit Benny couldn’t help but bounce his leg. Was Benny asking to hangout too soon? Was asking to hangout at one of their houses too much? Was it too far? Fuck, does Dio now see him as some kind of creep?

“Yours. Please. My place is…it’s a disaster of a mess and there isn’t enough time to try to clean this.” Benny tuned back into reality hearing Dio’s voice. Nodding to himself, Benny did a quick look around the living room. There were a few things that needed picking up, but it wasn’t too bad. Smiling, Benny stood from the couch, crossing the living room, and walking into the kitchen, he made a beeline to the fridge.

“For sure! I warn I do have a roommate, occasionally two. Well, more like one and half roommates.” Hand resting on the refrigerator’s handle, Benny stared into the fridge, eyes not studying the contents. “Sorry. What were we talking about? Oh! Yeah, my place is fine, my roommate might show up tonight, he might stay at his boyfriend’s place. I’ll uh…I’ll text you my address. Cool?” Sitting there in silence for a moment, Benny took his bottom lip in between and teeth and chewed at it slightly.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect. Sorry, was making sure I had everything in my bag.” Benny heard Dio’s voice and let out a breath he wasn’t aware that he was holding. 

“Okay, cool. I’ll see you soon then.” Benny can hear the nervousness in his voice, could Dio…? Swallowing back the nerves and any thoughts that tried to spawn, Benny heard Dio give a simple, ‘Okay. See you’ and then the click of the call ending. Moving his phone away from his face, breathing out a sigh of relief -becauses the phone call didn’t go up in flames- and made quick work of sending Dio his address and apartment number.

Putting his phone into his back pocket, Benny raked a hand through his hair nervously. As he stood there in the silence, his brain flooded with thoughts, a single thought screaming louder than the theres. Closing his eyes, Benny took a deep breath before letting it out with a muttered curse.

“Fuck..."

'''''''

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Thanks to the lovely @nicodefresas for the chain divider.

[centrifugal-apotheosis]

//ooc: old IP thread I did with @still-capricious, @the-poke-virus and @i-am-3mm3t

Shortly after Top Man's escapade with the Nymble, he returns home, knocking on Virus's door. she opens with a big grin on her face.

hi Toppy ･:*+.(( °ω° ))/.:+ welcome home ( ^ω^ ) how was the terrorism?

Groovy to the max! Say Virus, ya ready for that important mission I mentioned? (the others can catch up dw)

the train heist

she looks worried for a second, before perking up again

Yes! ((o(^∇^)o))

Then let's cruise!

but on their way out, at the teleporter, they notice a different person has joined their band

WhAtChA dOiN AH! ("°O°)

Letting Virus finally drive the train of her dreams. Wanna come?

LeZ dO iT okay ദ്ദി ( ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ )

turns out, to Virus's surprise, the Unova Door leads to an infrequently used train platform - that leads right to Gear Station (on one end of the corridor it opens into)! That was easy!

ahh, the memories. just yesterday I was piloting Viper's body to rummage through these tunnels for my sister's shards for my grand [UNALIVE] scheme Oh YeAh WoNdErLaNd. ThAt WaS fUn. We StOlE a TrEaSuRe ChEsT fRoM a ClOcK, aNd ThEn

Top Man cues at Gamzee for him to shut it

Oh... SoRrY

ANYWAY, once we hit the end of that tunnel we should have a clear view of all the trains. "Redips"'s briefing said to "let [the digital girl-thing] pick it out" so that's what we're doin

Virus gets excited and runs ahead. Top Man's wheels are good for keeping pace with excited Virus's. The Homesuck man is surprisingly fast. Somehow, instead of being met with an empty trainyard, they are met with a trainyard with One 👆 Subway Boss inside it. Both sets of arms are folded neatly behind a white coat, and the usual smile is there, sharp and shadowed. With the lights this dim, only one eye visible, sparking with Electricity, and it is fixed directly on Virus. She pauses in fear, absolutely paralyzed

"You are still banned from Gear Station."

Can it jive turkey! Virus grab your fave! Gamzee cover us!

o7

Virus is too paralyzed with fear. Emmet's eye narrows, and one hand lifts to flick the brim of the white hat upwards. The smile stays, and for a split second, the Subway Boss almost seems to be glowing, light reflecting harshly off the white coat and red stripes. As it fades, the entire trio feels something - a LOT of somethings - crawling up their bodies and draining the electricity all of them hold. A Joltik hoard does not come without training, and breaking the rules does not come without consequences. A Top Spin gets these off of Top Man easily. They take longer to remove from the troll. Well that's one way to get nocked back into reality. Virus eats a Joltik that comes close to her mouth. Top Man grabs Virus and puts her on his head.

Just think about your favorite train and send it to me I'll get us there!

w-we can't [FOLLOW THE RULES] [EVERYBODY SMILE] [STAY BEHIND THE LINE]

AY! Can't stop the Top, remember? And you... SCRAMBLE THUNDER! RE-ENERGIZE!

Top Man's color shifts, and he shoots lightning everywhere, trying to panic the joltik with an over-feeding

[CAN'T STOP THE TOP]...

she focuses, and points out one of the trains

that one

10-4!

back to Top Spin, he spins toward it

Dodge bullets when I'm spinning!

...new plans are just beginning...

The thunder hits! Quite a few of the Joltik break off and skitter away, forgetting any commands that were issued, but Emmet himself... continues not moving. At least until Virus points at a train, and then he calmly walks over to it. If Top gets too close before he reaches, well-

Discharge.

A mere snap of the fingers overloads Top Man with too much electricity to handle. The discharge hits Virus as well, thanks to the piggyback ride she's currently receiving.

Scrap, I really don't want to have to bring that out, but

Without warning Gamzee opens the doors and throws them all inside. It's like this trolls made of rubber or something. It seems like this finally gets Emmet to show any front other than calm security guard, because all four arms fling out to cling to the train against the sudden movement before she finds herself restrained by Homestuck.

Ya HaVe A mOmEnT tO tAlK aBoUt MiRaClEs?

Ok you're up

w-what?

Get this hunk o junk movin girl!

a-alright

Don't you dare

As Virus heads to the control room of the train Emmet nearly growls, smile twitching into something less, something violent. He doesn't need to move, because lightning starts pealing off of him and striking nearly everything in the room. The train itself is charged and barely able to be touched. There's so much, it's blinding. Virus falls to her knees, stopped in her tracks. Gamzee turns Emmet away as Top dips into his Sub-Tank to heal Virus

This should do. I got more where that came from

t-thank you

Very suddenly, Gamzee is slammed directly in the diaphragm by an elbow that really shouldn't prickle that much. Damn Joltik fuzz. You know when you fall and can't breathe for a few moments because you got hit in the gut? That's what happens when you get hit in the diaphragm. Emmet escapes easy and dashes for Virus, arms out to grab her and throw her right out of the station.

Get drivin. I'll see if I can find that Reverse Thunder FM- NOPE!

Emmet gets a face full of wheel, and then a Chill Spike barrier goes up. Virus makes it to the control room unharmed, her eyes light up as she finally sees all those switches and buttons in person. In this moment, nothing matters. It doesn't matter who Emmet is or their past together, fuck Emmet for all Virus cares. This is the moment she was created for. Top Man also enters, and blocks the door with his heavy metal body. She turns back to TopMan giving the biggest fanged grin of her life.

ready （╹◡╹）

Gogogogogo

Emmet somehow lands on his feet, and goes to tackle Top Man, firing off another bout of lightning. It seems to be getting weaker, but the fact that he's trying his damndest to tear into the robot with his bare hands overrides that a little.

LEAVE. GET OUT. THAT IS NOT YOURS.

Gamzee is back up, barely

ThAt WaSn'T vErY mIrAcLeS oF yOu

Virus fires a Gemini Laser directly at Emmet's face, her eyes have gone pitch black

YOUR ENEMY IS ME, LEAVE HIM ALONE

She fires up the train. We are now in motion people. Emmet's smacked head-on and knocked away just as the train starts moving.

[FULL STEAM AHEAD]!!! [ALL ABOOOOAAARD]!!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! YEAH BABY!

HoOoOoOoNk

THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!!

Emmet scrambles back up to his feet and starts booking it, despite knowing full well that he can't catch up to a train, because it's a TRAIN. He still doesn't want Virus to win. She puts the petal to the metal and drives faster. Gamzee's still grabbing Emmet when his eyes grow wide and he stiffens, and suddenly turns and runs away full sprint still holding Emmet, only putting her down when they're back at the main Station and then running off down an infrequently used tunnel. Emmet fucking SCREECHES as he's dragged away, completely helpless to stop the theft from his own station. If he had any sort of chance before, it's gone now, but he does make sure to through an extra-strong Discharge at Gamzee as the juggalo flees. Suddenly, a voice in her head.

Let them go, Emily

He freezes for a minute, just a minute, but it's more than enough. Gamzee is gone, Virus is gone, his train is gone... That's it.

They don't know it yet, but they have an important task to do with that train. Thank you for letting it go. Now a great multitude of people on my world can have hope. Again, thank you, Emily. You have done my world a great service

She scowls, but stays where she is. She has to figure out where she is, actually, and then get back to the main office, and file the goddamn paperwork that comes with this, and get pictures of those three so they can go on her Banned From Gear Station board- there's a lot to do.

It's made just a little better by the name that isn't hers, yet.

Luckily it looks like she's right by the main entrance. Easy enough. Now to figure out all that other nonsense... and this new voice in her head (thank goodness this one seems more orderly than other voices, and not permanent)

…is everything ok?

She sighs, and starts walking off to where she needs to be. The air of discontent that she radiates, despite the smile once again stuck on her face, is enough for people to clear a path. The office door just barely doesn't slam as she closes it.

Quiet

...as you wish. The others are nearing position anyways

the voice fades. Em hums. There's not much else to say about the boring job that ensues.

[psychokinetic-ectoplasm]

Expanding on the Vic/Earl/Reader thing: as they’re leaving at the end of a movie for the city(or wherever they were going) they could pick up a hitchhiker or something along those lines. Possibly meet someone at one of the stops they make & rope them into joining them. The moving in next door trope would be difficult…

Idk if you do characterxcharacter BUT VicxEarl would be really interesting if you went from the scene where Earl goes to see Ramona & gets roped into having coffee with & talking to Vic

Hey, anon! So, I decided to do the latter on this because as I was thinking about it, the idea hit me like a freight train. I might still do a Vic/Earl/Reader fic, but right now, here's some Vic/Earl!

(I'm also SUPER pleased with how this turned out!)

Also here on Ao3

NSFW under the cut

The Neighborly Thing To Do

“Grab a seat. I’ll fix us some coffee.”

Earl sat at the far end of the kitchen table so it was between him and Vic. The two men stared at each other like they were waiting to see what the other would do. The tension in the air between them was taut, like a rubber band waiting to snap. Earl didn’t trust Vic; that much was obvious. And yet here he was, in Vic’s house, about to have coffee with him.

When Vic removed his helmet — or whatever the hell it was — and goggles, Earl frowned a bit, seeing the bruise around his eye. 

“I feel terrible about your eye.” 

And he did. Granted, Vic deserved it in the moment, but Earl had lost control of himself. He didn’t like seeing the bruise, knowing he was responsible for it. Punching someone just wasn’t in Earl’s nature, but Vic… Vic made him act irrationally. Even in just this short amount of time knowing him, Vic drove him crazy.

Vic shrugged. “Couldn’t be helped.”

“What are you doing with all that stuff on?” Earl asked.

“I was gonna take a dive in the swamp, see if I could locate my truck and my airplane.”

Earl nodded. Fair enough. Earl then looked away, trying to look anywhere but at Vic, who was currently removing the rest of his scuba gear. It felt like he was witnessing something he shouldn’t be, like he was prying. Watching him undress… Why Vic even had the gear and suit to begin with, Earl didn't want to know. It was probably better that he didn't. He was wary, especially after Vic literally shot at him in the front yard — with the gun in question now sitting on the kitchen counter — and while he was fully expecting something bad to happen now, it didn’t. In fact, the tension in the room slowly changed from one of apprehension to… something else. Definitely aided by the fact that Vic was practically stripping in front of him…

Earl tried to ease the tension by talking about the lady who lived in the house before and who used to bake bread, but the small talk sounded fake, even to him. 

And he could feel Vic looking at him now, staring at him, daring him to look back. Earl only did when he heard a zipper being undone. Vic smirked faintly, smug that him unzipping the top of his wetsuit halfway down his chest had gotten Earl’s attention. Earl swallowed hard, not quite liking how Vic was looking at him. There was… something, some look in his blue eyes that Earl didn't want to put a name to, though it sent an unbidden thrill through him all the same. There was heat in Vic's gaze, something akin to… want, lust. It was enough to make Earl’s cock twitch with interest within the confines of his pants. What the hell?

Vic then walked around the counter. Or, perhaps swaggered would be the more appropriate term. He stopped when he was in full view of Earl, legs apart and his hands resting on what appeared to be snaps on the front of the wetsuit near his crotch. Earl felt like he was being seduced. What was it with these people?! First Ramona, now Vic?! Earl didn't exactly view himself as a catch, but this was ridiculous! Surely, he was reading too much into this. Surely, Vic wasn't trying to seduce him. Surely, he—

Oh.

Earl watched the crotch guard fall from between Vic's legs and hang there almost lewdly. Earl swallowed again and looked away as he felt his cheeks heat. Now, Vic looked even more smug as he continued around the counter and walked up to the stove. He had Earl right where he wanted him.

“Instant okay?” Vic asked, startling him out of his thoughts. 

His voice was so calm, so conversational. Totally not like Vic was trying to get a reaction out of Earl. Vic was treating this as though it was a common, everyday occurrence between them.

“Yeah,” Earl answered.

Vic stepped up to the table and set two cups down. The one in front of Earl was discolored and had a lipstick stain on the side, so it obviously hadn’t been washed. Vic still stared as if daring Earl to comment on it. Earl didn’t, partly because he was trying to determine if Vic was trying to put him off or come on to him.

Earl tried to focus on his dirty cup and not follow with his eyes the long, lean body of Vic as he moved around the kitchen. Earl didn't even swing that way! And yet… His gaze was near Vic's waist when Vic turned. Earl unwittingly licked his lips. The wetsuit left very little to the imagination, and it was obvious Vic was aroused.

“See something you like, Earl?”

Vic's voice startled him again. “Huh?” Earl asked dumbly, lifting his eyes to Vic's face.

God, he looked so damn smug… Someone should kiss that smirk right off his— Earl quickly averted his gaze, mentally chastising himself. What the fuck are you doing, Keese?!

“I said, do you see something you like?” Vic repeated, holding his hands out to the side as he walked back up to the table with the jar of coffee in hand. “There's no need to be embarrassed, Earl. It's just the two of us here.”

Earl clenched his jaw, pointedly not looking at Vic. Now, he was getting a little angry. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“My crotch, Earl!” Vic exclaimed with a laugh. “You were checking me out!”

“Was not!” Earl snapped. “And besides, you're the one who's been making eyes at me since we walked in here!”

Vic sat down adjacent to him at the table, coffee forgotten for the moment. “I've made you uncomfortable.”

Earl cut his eyes over at Vic, debating on how to answer. “Well…”

“Tell me what I can do to make you more comfortable.”

Earl looked at him and was startled to find Vic's face so close to his. “What?”

Vic shrugged. “What can I do to make you more comfortable? After all, you're in my home. You should feel welcome. So, let me make you more comfortable. It's the neighborly thing to do.”

Earl nearly shot out of his chair when he suddenly felt Vic's hand slide onto his thigh under the table. Vic was smiling innocently at him, his gaze wandering over Earl’s face. Well, as innocent as Vic could look. There was still that look in his eyes.

“Vic,” Earl said tersely, a warning tone in his voice.

Vic paid it no mind, though, his fingers now lightly stroking Earl’s inner thigh. Earl swallowed hard, willing his body to not react to the touch or how close Vic was to him and how he could feel the man's heat. Well, will his body to not react further. Earl was already half hard from everything Vic had done up to this point, but now that Vic was touching him?

“Surely there's something I can do, Earl,” Vic practically purred. He then squeezed Earl’s thigh, making Earl’s breath hitch. Fuck, he was enjoying this too much. If only Vic would move his hand a little further up… “You're too tense. Maybe that coffee will help—”

Earl immediately panicked, thinking Vic was about to remove his hand, get up, break the moment, and leave Earl wanting. “I don't want your damned coffee!”

Vic raised his eyebrows. “Then what do you want, Earl?”

Damn him, Earl thought, stubbornly staring at the wall ahead of him as his hips shifted on their own, trying to get Vic's hand where he wanted it. Earl gritted his teeth, his breath already labored, fighting with everything in him to not give in. Come on, Keese, you're stronger than this, aren't you?! 

“This is an offer not many people get,” Vic continued, his voice quiet. There was some sort of hypnotic quality to it, quelling some of Earl's anger. “So, what do you want? You want me on my knees? Would that make you feel better?”

Despite the rush of desire Earl felt at the mental image of Vic on his knees between Earl's legs, he turned his head sharply, ready to retort with a snide comment, but he suddenly found himself kissing Vic. Roughly. A kiss Earl himself initiated. Vic hummed in surprise but eagerly returned it. It was a kiss that was all teeth and tongue and wasn't meant to be anything pleasant, and yet it only made Earl want Vic more.

As Earl’s hand came up to grip the collar of Vic's wetsuit, Vic bit down on Earl's lip, sucking and tugging on it. Earl couldn't stop the moan that spilled past his lips. 

“What do you want, Earl?” Vic murmured, holding himself in place so Earl couldn't pull him back into another kiss just yet. “Tell me, and it's yours.”

Earl felt a bit frantic, unable to think through the haze of arousal and desperate need he was feeling. He hadn't ever felt this before, not with his wife or Ramona tempting him earlier that evening. He didn't know what he wanted. He'd never done this before! Not with a man.

Earl let go of Vic's collar and slowly sat back. “I… I don't…”

Vic smiled, understanding. “How about just this then?”

Before Earl could ask what, Vic had covered Earl’s crotch with his hand. Earl gasped, his hands now gripping the table. Finally. Vic teased him through the fabric of his pants, humming when he felt Earl was already hard.

“See? You need this. You're too tense. You need some relief.”

Vic's hand suddenly left him, and Earl very nearly protested, but all Vic did was move his chair next to Earl's so they were side by side and Vic had better access to him. Earl sighed in relief when Vic's hand was on him again.

“How long has it been, Earl?” Vic asked quietly, his nose just barely touching Earl’s cheek. “How long has it been since someone else took care of you?”

Earl was too distracted by Vic touching him to really think about the implication of his words. “Too long.”

Vic smiled and began to undo Earl’s belt and pants. “Well, then, let Captain Vic take care of that.”

Earl let his head fall back as Vic freed his cock and began to lightly stroke him. Earl groaned. God, it really had been a long time since someone else had touched him. Things between him and Enid had cooled significantly in the past few years, leaving him to take care of himself. So feeling another hand on him, maybe even especially because it was Vic's hand, felt amazing.

“It’s not so bad, huh?” Vic purred. “Feels good?”

Earl shakily moaned again as Vic’s thumb teased the head of his cock. “Y-yeah, feels good.”

Vic grinned and then let go of Earl long enough to spit in his hand before resuming stroking him, this time with the spit helping his hand glide easier over Earl’s cock. Earl sucked in a shaky breath and looked down at Vic’s hand moving over him, twisting around him just right. Vic tilted his head and began to lightly kiss Earl’s neck. Or, at least, that's what Earl thought he would do. He then felt Vic’s teeth just barely worrying the tender skin of his neck. It wasn’t enough to leave a mark, but it was as though Vic was letting Earl know he could leave one if he really wanted, let everyone know who he’d been with, who’d made him feel so good. And somehow, that made Earl even more desperate.

“Vic?” he breathed.

“Yeah, Earl?”

“More. Please?”

Vic hummed and stroked him faster. “You’re getting the hang of it now. I’m a very giving guy. You just gotta ask.”

Earl tried to hold back his moans, not really wanting to give Vic the satisfaction of hearing them, but he couldn’t help it. Vic knew just how to touch him. Between the twist of his hand, the way he’d alternate between long strokes and teasing the tip, smearing the precum beading there down over his shaft, Vic already had Earl a panting mess. 

Without really thinking, Earl reached out to grab hold of Vic’s thigh, more so just to find purchase somewhere, as repeated thrills of pleasure ran through him. But part of him also wanted Vic to share in this experience. Vic caught his wrist, though, before Earl’s hand could reach his crotch.

“Easy, Earl. What kind of host would I be if I put you to work? Let me handle this.”

Earl just moaned again and nodded, his hips beginning to just barely buck into Vic’s hand as he was pushed closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m close, Vic,” Earl whispered.

“Yeah?”

He nodded frantically. “Yeah.”

Vic hummed thoughtfully. “We don’t want to make a mess, do we?”

Before Earl could fully process the words, Vic suddenly pushed Earl’s chair back and was bent over his lap, Earl’s cock in his mouth. Earl gasped, his hands flying up to grip Vic’s blond hair.

“Jesus Christ,” Earl groaned, the feeling of Vic’s hot mouth around him, sucking on, making him feel totally out of his mind. “Fuck, Vic…”

Vic hummed around him and eagerly bobbed his head, taking him completely into his mouth before withdrawing again, over and over. Earl had to cover his mouth to stifle his moans. 

It was all enough to push Earl over the edge, his grip tightening on Vic's hair and his body tensing as he came hard, spilling down Vic's throat. Earl bit the hand over his mouth, moaning repeatedly. Vic swallowed everything Earl had to offer. And it felt like Earl just kept cumming until it got to be too much, and he had to push Vic away.

Earl sagged back into his chair, fighting for breath. God, he hadn’t cum that hard in a long time. He should have felt annoyed when Vic raised up, his smug smile still firmly in place as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tucked Earl back into his underwear and pants, but Earl liked it. For some damn reason he couldn’t explain, he liked it, as if there was some twisted part of him that wanted to please Vic. And he did. If he didn't feel so boneless right now and wasn't so out of breath, he might have thrown himself at Vic's feet to suck him off, return the favor. And if he'd been thinking more clearly, he might have wondered what the hell he was thinking.

“Feeling more comfortable now, Earl?” Vic asked.

All Earl could do was nod, still panting. To his surprise — and delight, though he’d never admit it — Vic leaned back in to peck his lips.

“Good. Now, about that coffee… Strong?”

“Not too,” he managed to breathe. 

Earl stared after Vic, who stood and put his back to him, walking over to the stove to take the kettle off the burner. He took in Vic's form again, his mind wandering, wondering what Vic's body would feel like pressed against his, what his hands and lips would feel like all over his skin… 

Earl half expected to feel guilty or dirty or something after what just happened, but he didn't. He wanted Vic to come back, though. He wanted the man to hold him or let him return the favor, or something, anything. He wasn't satisfied yet, even though he was physically sated and relaxed, just as Vic had intended.

Earl swallowed. “Uh, Vic?”

Vic turned just a bit but didn't look at him yet. “Yeah?”

“Um… what… W-what about you?”

“What about me?”

Earl cleared his throat and gestured vaguely to Vic's crotch. “I mean, don't you… you know…”

Vic smirked and walked back over with a clean cup, setting it down in front of Earl, and moving the dirty one aside. “You're not ready for that, Earl.”

Earl frowned, though he knew Vic was probably right. This was all still a bit too new for him. “What does that mean?”

Vic sat again, his hand seeking out Earl’s, but he didn't hold it. Instead, he lightly ran his fingers over the back of it, even just that innocuous touch almost making Earl shiver.

“Baby steps, Earl. Baby steps. Besides, we got time,” Vic said, flashing him a wide grin, showing off his silver tooth, and winking at him, “neighbor.”

[crimsonredfeathers]

Behind closed doors

Aizawa Shouta x gn!Reader

Warnings: gagging, anal fingering, prostate massage, cum

Word count: 2.1k

Notes: Thank you so much for trusting me with this request, dear anon! I hope this story is what you were looking for ❤️

🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤

🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤

You entered your meeting point, a love hotel that the two of you had stayed at every week for months now for the anonymous check-in and convenient location, a bag slung over your shoulder. Since you always entered the hotel separately to prevent anyone from seeing you together, you texted Shouta floor and room number of the room you'd be staying in for the next few hours. Unpacking your bag, you placed various items on the nightstand next to the huge bed that was placed in the middle of the room, only the headboard made contact with the wall behind. You stripped down to your underwear, not only was it more comfortable that way, but you also wanted to make sure your clothes were kept clean.

As you were folding the last piece of your clothing, there was a knock on the door. Discarding your pants on the pile of clothes, you opened the door for the man you'd been waiting for, face mostly obscured by the hood he'd pulled far down into his face. You stepped to the side, allowing him to enter the room before closing and locking the door behind him.

The black-haired man removed his hood. He looked tired, but a smile grazed his lips nonetheless. "Good to see you, Aizawa-sensei," you chuckled, a hint of a mocking undertone present in your voice, knowing how much he disliked it, when you addressed him that way. "Cut it," he scoffed, shaking his head.

"Shouta," you grinned, resting your palm against his cheek for a moment, his stubbles tickling your sensitive skin as he nuzzled in, "I've prepared everything. Take your clothes off, tie your hair, and make yourself comfortable on the bed." Without a second thought, he complied to your request.

You couldn't help but keep your eyes focused on him as he revealed his perfectly toned body bit by bit, many old and fresh scars covering his skin. And once again you wondered, just how tough it had to be on him, being a hero and taking part in missions, while also being a teacher and taking care of a bunch of students at the same time. His eyes were always tired and bloodshot from the use of his quirk and the sheer amount of work he had to do, successfully preventing him from getting the rest he needed. Well, he wouldn't get any rest from you today either, but you'd make sure to take good care of him, just like you always did.

Shouta sat down on the bed, fumbling with the rubber band he had placed around his wrist beforehand, securing his long black hair in a messy bun, so it wouldn't interfere with the beautiful agony that you had promised him once again. Resting his head against the headboard, he eyed the assortment of toys you had brought along, refraining from commenting on anything, though.

You grabbed a simple ballgag to start the game the both of you had anticipated all day long. Positioning yourself on top of him, legs placed to either of his sides, you pressed the ball against his calloused lips and, as soon as his mouth opened, pushed it into his mouth. There was no need to tell him what to do anymore at this point. He lifted his head and let you secure the straps behind his head. One good pull and the gag was successfully preventing Shouta from closing his mouth or speaking. "Well done," you praised, something that he usually wouldn't care for too much, but helped him relax in this vulnerable situation. "You do remember how to make me stop at any time, right?" He nodded, tapping your arm three times. It wouldn't matter where he touched you, as long it were three taps against your skin. "Good."

Your hands roamed his chest, pinching his nipples every now and then, while you leaned in to press a few kisses against his jaw. Strangled but soft moans were escaping his throat while he put his arms around you, a proud grin formed on your lips. How much you enjoyed those sounds of pleasure when he was close to being like putty in your hands. Continuing your assault on his sensitive skin, you rolled your hips, his dick twitching against your clothed privates, and all you could do was hum in approval. His grip around you getting tighter, he bucked his hips up. "Uh-uh," you scolded playfully, "I'm in charge, Aizawa-sensei." A grumble left his chest as the only way of protest at hearing that name again, accompanied by a string of saliva seeping out of the corner of his mouth, running past the ballgag between his lips.

"I've brought something new for you today, Shouta," you whispered against his ear, "wanna get rid of that stupid, boring thing there?" His eyes widened in anticipation, and he agreed by firmly nodding his head. You reached behind his head, opening up the strap of the ballgag. Removing the toy from his mouth, you watched in delight how the ball connected to his mouth with a string of saliva before it dripped down his chin and neck. Shouta used this moment to take in a few harsh breaths of air and close his mouth to give his strained facial muscles a short rest.

Changing the ballgag for your new toy, you held it in front of him. "What do you think, Shouta?" You grabbed the little pump that was connected to the roughly penis-shaped inflatable by a tube and gave it a squeeze. Shouta's eyes widened as the toy grew in size. His hands wandered to your tighs, squeezing them lightly to reassure you that he'd be able to take it as he opened up his mouth willingly. You used the small valve to release the air and get the toy back to its original size before slowly inserting it into his mouth. "Relax," you breathed as he accommodated the penis-shaped object. The moment you fastened the straps around his head, his grip on your legs tightened, and a gagging noise could be heard. Leaning back, you admired the sight in front of you. Small tears pricked at the corners of his tired eyes. "You like that, don't you?" Shouta replied with a deep groan, the artificial penis holding down his tongue, tip brushing against his soft palate.

"I need you to lay down," you said softly, removing yourself from sitting on top of him, losing the contact of his calloused fingers against your skin. He slid down to lay onto the bed, the gag pushing against all the right places, causing him to cough, when his head leaned back against the pillow. You traced his abs with your fingertips, soothing him until his coughing fit subsided. He was ready for more. Your fingers wandered to the pump, closing around the air filled ball of rubber and pushing down on it. Shouta's hips bucked upwards, fingers digging into the soft fabric beneath him, as he sharply drew in air through his nose when the silicone expanded like a balloon inside of his mouth cavity, saliva collecting at the corner of his mouth.

You let go of the pump for now, shoving his legs apart and kneeling between them. As your hands caressed his tighs, fingernails lightly scraping against his skin, you could feel him shudder underneath your touch, wiggling around as he yearned for more. "Looks like you're ready, Shouta," you muttered and leaned over to grab one of your latex gloves and a sachet of lube the hotel offered for free, before getting comfortable between his spread legs again. You put on the glove and opened the seal of the little bag, pouring the content over your fingers. The empty sachet got dumped on the floor, and your ungloved hand pushed his tigh back, holding it in place for easier access. Your lubed fingertips rubbed against his entrance, coating the sensitive area in gel. His cock twitched as you playfully dipped an inch of your index finger into him, before retracting it again. "You like that, huh?" You repeated the action a few more times, before sliding your finger in completely. Shouta had his eyes closed, heavily breathing in and out through his nose. "Shouta," you whispered, loosening the grip on his tigh for a moment to reach for the pump, "one more time and I'll reward you." A sound of disapproval stifled by the growing gag erupted from his throat, followed by a strangled cough as you gave the pump a good squeeze. His fingers desperately tucked on the fabric of the sheets underneath him. Your hand wandered back to his tigh to hold it in place, your thumb rubbing small circles against his skin.

As you slowly pulled your index finger back out to add your middle finger to the game, you felt Shouta's hand resting on top of yours. You looked up, smiling as you saw his flushed face. "You're doing great," you reassured him, wiggling your hand free from his grip to guide his calf onto your shoulder. His leg now supported, you took his hand into yours, kissing the calloused skin of his calf.

You leaned your head against his leg, concentrating on what you were about to do. You slipped your index and middle finger between his ring of muscles, watching as the muscles slowly stretched to accommodate both of your fingers. Once inside of him, digits buried to the hilt, you curled your fingers upwards, giving his insides a few experimental strokes before you could feel his prostate. And his stifled moan and the tightening grip on your hand told you that he could feel the pressure of your fingers, too.

His gagging became more violent, he coughed against the inflated silicone part, saliva now freely running down Shouta's chin and neck as you continously rubbed against his prostate, cock twitching between his legs. Glassy eyes shot open wide as he lost control only moments later, cum now decorating his abdomen in milky white strings as the muscles that enveloped your fingers twitched around them. You rested your head against his trembling leg as you slowly pulled your fingers out.

"You're quite the sight for sore eyes, Aizawa-sensei," you teased, taking in the sight in front of you. A few of Shouta's black strands were sticking to his forehead, tired bloodshot eyes looked at you, eyebrows slightly drawn together in annoyance. His chest was heaving heavily as he tried to catch his breath through his nose, and saliva was running down his stubbled chin and neck, already damping the pillow and sheet beneath his head.

You kissed his calf once again before letting go of his hand and helping him to take his leg off of your shoulder. You took off the latex glove, making sure it was inside out, and discarded it on the floor close to the empty sachet before reaching up to finally release Shouta. Opening the valve, you could see how he relaxed as the pressure inside of his mouth decreased. Leaning into him, you unbuckled the strap, slowly pulling the gag out of his mouth. The action was accompanied by a few coughs, and once you had the toy placed on the nightstand, you took a bottle of water you'd placed there prior to Shouta's arrival. Opening the lid, you held it to his lips and slowly lifted the bottle up so he could take a few sips. He laid his hand on your wrist, carefully pushing down on it to signal you that he has had enough.

You took a few sips yourself and closed the bottle before putting it back on the nightstand. Pulling a few tissues out of the box next to the bed, you cleaned up Shouta's chin and neck, followed by the mess on his belly. You leaned in to softly kiss his sweaty forehead. "I'll pack up and leave first," you mumbled, getting up from the bed, picking up the glove and empty sachet from the floor, discarding them together with the tissue in the trash bin closest to the bed. You wordlessly packed your toys into your bag and got fully dressed under Shouta's observing eyes.

You had already reached the door when you heard Shouta's voice. "See you next week?" He sounded hopeful. "Sure. Take care, Shouta," you chuckled and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind you.

[cjwritesforyou]

College Freshman Chapter 14

Chapter 14 of this daily rom-com series

Angie was all ready. She was going to be early, and prepared, and they would actually study. She was going to make sure of it.

When she opened the door, though, there sat Thomas, chewing on a bag of salt and vinegar chips. She was taken off-guard. Angelina wasn’t expecting him to be here yet.

The sound of the door made Thomas swivel around in his chair and face her. He looked just as surprised as she was.

“You’re early,” Thomas said.

“Me? You’re the early one,” Angelina said.

“I had some work to do,” he said, taking a bite of a chip. He swiveled back around.

Angelina recognized the sheet and stopped before taking her seat, looking at Thomas’s screen. All things they hadn’t learned yet. It was so interesting. She sat down in her usual chair and brought out her laptop.

“You know we’re actually going to study this time,” she said.

“We never study,” his eyes didn’t bat from his screen. “What are we going to do?”

“Flashcards.”

“Flashcards? I can’t remember the last time I did flashcards.”

“It’ll be fun,” Angelina said, reaching into her backpack. “I have them already made,” she said, and put them on the counter. They were in a rubber band and were thick. Thomas removed his eyes from his screen and gave a look that told Angelina he wasn’t expecting this many. “These are all the ones from this chapter.”

“Are you sure you didn’t do every chapter?” Thomas asked, jokingly.

“Oh, I’m sure. Both of us have to get these all right.”

“Well, damn,” Thomas said. He shut his laptop and put it out of the way on the table. “Where do we even start?”

“With the top one. It’s just memorization.”

“Just memorization?”

“Just memorization. I’ll do a few to start,” she said looking at the top five flashcards. She gave the definition to them, and they all matched the back. “Like that.”

“You wrote them!”

“It’s good to write things down. You would do good to write more, too. Even though you don’t need to,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll try it.”

They studied the flashcards for what must have been an hour. He knew them all, but not by the definition the teacher wanted. She had some issues in the middle, but was good toward the front and back of the flashcards. She made sure he got the definition the teacher wanted, while she studied the flashcards she didn’t understand more. It was a perfect system.

“I’m so over flashcards,” Thomas said, putting down a pile of flashcards he had.

“Already?” Angelina asked. “It’s not even eight o’clock yet.”

“It isn’t?” Thomas weeped.

She couldn’t help herself from laughing as Thomas put his head on the table. He was over the flashcards. Thomas looked back up at her and got an idea.

“I have some more flashcards in my room,” Thomas mentioned. “Do we need them?”

“You. Have flashcards?”

“They were packaged in. You know, parental duties.”

“I see,” Angelina said, and thought a little. “Some more flashcards would be good. Do you live on this floor?”

“I do. Wanna see?”

Angelina let a lump go by her stomach and hesitated for a moment. She hadn’t been in a boy’s room, let alone Thomas’s.

“Don’t you have a roommate?”

“He’s off doing roommate things. He won’t be back until…” Thomas put a hand on his chin and thought about it. “Probably midday tomorrow.”

“So you have the room to yourself?”

“I have the room to myself,” Thomas said proudly.

“Why are we studying here then?” Angelina meant it as a joke but it didn’t come out as one. It was too late now. She looked at Thomas and he was in deep contemplation again.

“You’re right. We gotta pack up, then.”

Angelina smiled to herself and never told Thomas she meant it as a joke. She was going to see his room! And study in it. Was it neat, dirty, she wanted to know it all. She couldn’t wait. 

The two zipped their bags up and headed out of the room. Thomas held the door open for her, and she blushed a little. She let him go back in front, though, because she didn’t know where she was going. He laughed as she slowed her pace and they made eye contact. It was all too much for her. 

Thomas turned right down the hallway past the elevators and passed some doors. She looked at every door with wonder. There was none else in the hallway that night, but there probably were people in the study rooms. She wasn’t going to peek.

He stopped at a door and turned a key. This was the one, Angelina guessed. She wasn’t ready for what was to come. She walked inside–and saw half the room was neat, but the other half was a mess. He put his bag down on the neat side, so she assumed it was his. Not bad for a dorm room. Not bad at all.

[lilacastar]

KDA 16: Paper trail

5K's hand slid off the edge of the peeling door and motioned them to follow. He stumbled a bit before continuing unsteady movements into the living room.

Kalrick entered and took crunchy steps on whatever had dried onto the carpet. He followed his friend's lead, stepping over empty cans, wrappers and paper. It didn't seem too unreasonable for the place to be this messy, considering what Kalrick probably put him through. Not to mention life was pretty difficult, who really had to time for upkeep when sometimes it was all anyone could do to self-medicate?

Randal nudged his side. "This place smells awful," He hushed. "Let's get this over with as fast as possible."

But it wasn't all that bad. It could use an open window, but most of it was probably just the garbage that needed to be taken out. It wasn't ideal, but Kalrick could easily see how bad it would get if no one was taking care of him at home. He probably wouldn't have the energy for cleaning on his own like 5K was.

5K rummaged through a basket full of magazines and newspapers aside the couch, so Kalrick took the opportunity to sneak the untouched coffee to the fridge. Nothing but water pitcher, soda and lunchables.

"Found it- IT" 5K shouted, and started to undo the rubber bands around a thick rolled magazine. His fingers struggled to grasp the band, pawing and pushing until it rolled.

"Yeah," His facial muscles twitched slightly when he tried to nod. For someone who supposedly wasn't on hard substances anymore, his body language was saying otherwise. Then again, he didn't really know what 5K looked like not on drugs.

"What's that," Kalrick nodded at the envelope he uncovered from the magazines.

"You stopped paying through the- the phone. Phone uh, the phone online."

"The online portal?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "You pay with cash and give it in the mail paper. Never cut me short, always on the first and rent is good for a while."

He extended the envelope and Kalrick accepted. He turned it over and looked at the sender.

"Heritage Baptist Church", He read out loud. "Is it always coming in these?"

"Yeah,"

He removed the neatly folded clip of bills and put it in 5Ks hands. "Here, I think I need to hang on to the envelope."

"It's your money, I promise your payment is good, you should at least keep your own money."

"Compensation for my mental episode."

"I feel really bad for taking it, I mean you've been gone for a while and I didn't know you were sick."

"Don't worry about it." There was no way the demonic didn't take advantage of 5K. With this behavior and far too trusting and forgiving nature, there would be no way he didn't go undamaged within 2 years.

"If you really want to be helpful," Kalrick diverted. "I need you to tell me about what I did or like, who I was with. I had a really bad episode, and don't remember shit."

5K looked reluctantly between Randal and him.

"What do you think, Randal?" 5K asked.

His name sounded strange coming out of 5K's mouth, and Kalrick hadn't thought about the two crossing paths. He almost forgot they knew each other, as if him and Randal didn't use to do everything together. He used to have him over all the time.

"I think," Randal fiddled with his hands, probably not wanting to place them anywhere unsanitary. "I think that Kalrick could really use some closure. And if finding what he was doing the past 2 years helps, then we should help him."

"Will you help me?" Kalrick joined.

"Yeah," 5K nodded. "Everyone need help sometimes."

"Then I need you to tell me what you know about me. The recent 2 years me."

"You were mostly gone, honestly. When you stopped hanging out with me, you kinda dropped off in general. I only ever saw you on rent day, or randomly in and out at night. I also have memory gaps, so I can't really remember when it all started. But you always have those church letters, and sometimes that girl."

"A girl?"

"Yeah. The one with the tatts and bleached hair. Ya'll fuck around and then she leave."

Randal immediately gave Kalrick a look. As if it was his fault for what he did while possessed?

"What." 5K paused, sensing the tension between the two.

"I'm gay." Kalrick stated, pins and needles making their way back into his skull.

"Then why did you..."

"Different person using my body. Same body, just not me for 2 years."

"Well that's... Awkward."

"Let's move on!" Randal smiled uncomfortably. "How about we get some of your stuff back?"

-

The door to Kalrick's bedroom opened smooth and soundlessly. The inside did not match the rest of the apartment, no. Instead it was clean with minimal signs of use. Dust collected on the desk with mail, papers and books. The bed uniform and made, the nightstand held small clutter including his phone.

"My phone!" He grabbed the device and left a perfectly sized rectangle around the dusty surface. He pressed the homescreen with no reaction. Two, three more times but the screen did not wake. Dead. It shouldn't have been that surprising, since Randal said he never saw him use a phone. He settled for plugging in the device with the nearby charger.

Randal drew a line of dust on the desk and began flipping through papers.

"All I must've done here was sleep." Kalrick remarked. Everything else seemed mostly untouched.

"I mean, considering what 5K said, I don't think there was much sleeping going on."

"Dude are you fucking kidding me right now?"

He turned his face, pretending to be very interested in the unopened mail documents.

"How are you acting hurt when I'm the one who was having sex without my knowledge with people I'm not attracted to."

"I never said that,"

"But you're acting like it."

"Well maybe I can't help the way I feel."

"How are you jealous? We aren't even- Never mind."

"Aren't what? I can't be concerned for my friend?"

"You're so full of shit." He rolled his eyes. "But since all you are is concerned, you won't mind if I change out of mom house clothes and into my own shit."

"Go ahead."

Kalrick's pants dropped to the floor and stripped the shirt off as well. Randal turned out of politeness, but the mirror against the wall reflected his eyes stealing glances.

He slipped on his Grateful Dead shirt with some better fitting jeans, both of them sat in the drawer too long from the stale smell. Nothing a bit of use couldn't get rid of.

"What's your mom going to think when you come back in different clothes?" Randal asked.

"I don't want to go back to her home."

"I mean, I get you don't like her, but for real what are you going to say?"

"Nothing, she can get over it and I can do what I want. And I want to stay here."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? It was hard enough getting you here, do you honestly think you'll be alright on your own?"

"I'm not alone, I've got...5K."

Randal didn't have to say anything, his expression did all the work.

"It's one night, I'll be alright and I'm sick of being suffocated by my mom."

"Fine. But you call me if something happens."

"I'll do want I want."

Randal's eyes held onto him extra long, before releasing his quiet but calculated words. "You're a real asshole now, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." He mumbled.

"I'm not being funny," He chuckled. But Kalrick knew he was serious.

"I don't enjoy being like this either."

[soliloquyepistolary]

In the dream, I'm in my mother's room back when when it was my bed and her bed pushed together and I’m trying on a dress it’s a lovely dress it looks like a Chinese qi-pao inspired dress, with lots of different colours. I feel really beautiful but the top boob section doesn’t really fit properly. It keeps sagging down when I'm not noticing and for some reason I am flat-chested. I am putting on a necklace that matches the dress. I am just trying it on and frolicking about in my room for a bit trying to see how it feels to put it on and then by mum comes home and I am quickly trying to take it off before she sees. But she catches me before I can remove it and she says I look beautiful she wants to look at me with the dress on but I am really shy.

I am at work but it doesn’t look like work and I am on the floor of the shop, sitting a table and I am doing some sort of work like writing down things in a journal but I am not even writing down anything that has to do with pharmacy. I am writing about my dreams or something trying to remember a dream. I am writing about a dream where I have feelings for an older man but I am a child or something. I have drawn something, a pumpkin carriage like in Cinderella. And then a customer comes a middle aged lady who came to collect something I had organised for her and she says something MN before she leaves, she complains about me. She says I am good but I’m very dry and something else, like I'm cold and that he should speak to me about that. He doesn’t really say anything just nods but I know he has my back. When I hear this lady talking about me I quickly get up and go into the side room to avoid her coming across me when she walks to the exit door and also to make things less awkward for MN. When she leaves my coworkers don’t even acknowledge what she said, they surround me and give me pleasant attention. I am still writing in my book, I tell MN I am almost done

I am in the milk bar and I am by myself during opening hours. I am upstairs kind of not even paying attention to the shop, I'm not really sure what I am doing, it's like I am waiting for some guy to come home that I have a crush on. He eventually comes home, having sneaked through the back door or window, and he is lying in the dark, in a room seemingly exhausted. I want to go into the room and observe him, say hi or give him some affection, something like that.

I can sense that family has comes home all of a sudden and I have to pretend I am working so I pop downstairs really quick where some lady has come in and she is impatient like she has been waiting there for a little while. I go to serve her like nothing is amiss. She wants something printed so I go to the printer which is where the automatic sink used to be and I print off her order and as the pages come out they fall to the ground and I have to pick them up and put them back in order. I am a bit annoyed by this and I am thinking about not charging her since I made her wait and also these pages had touched the ground so it was a bit unhygeinic.

I am taking my friends home in a car that’s stacked with other cars, like how you would stack a shopping trolley at the supermarket, like 4 or more cars stuck together. And to keep the cars connected together, there are rubber bands that correspond to each of the cars, all tied together on the gear stick and same set up on the indicators. There are the same type of cars set up like buses driving along side me on the road. It is like a convoy. I am following them somewhere or we seem to know where we are going. We stop at a stop light. And then I lose sight of the other two cards, the police pull me over. Before she can come over to my window and interrogate me I am thinking about un-tying the the rubber bands to disconnect the cars from each other as quickly as possible but I don’t actually do it. It's a transitory fear. The policewoman doesn’t even give a ticket or warning or anything bad she just tells me something helpful like my bonnet is up or something, it’s like she doesn’t even notice that the cars are all stacked together like shopping trolleys. Then I say to my friend in the passenger seat, the car is set up like this, because I’m going to a party later of some kind like out at night and my friends might want lifts home, because they’ll be drunk or super happy or something. I am taking responsibility but I am happy too. It’s like I’m a willing designated driver.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

Can you make a story where dark Peter uses a vibrator on the fem!reader till she squirts and shakes and fucks her till she's cock dumb

yaaa ya ya

THE TEASE- P.B PARKER

Pairing: Darkish! Peter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 750

Warnings: SMUT, squirting, over stimulation, use of vibrator on reader, biting, degradation kink, darkish stalker content, choking, pet names, peter finishing inside causes he has a breeding kink

“This is your fault.” he whispered, hand tightening around your neck the vibrator buzzed against your swollen bud.

A gasp torn between a moan escaped your lips as his hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, before he gave it a little bite.

“You just had to be such a little tease, with that slutty little skirt of yours.” he growled gaze slipping down to where he held the toy, watching as your ankles dug into the sheets as you attempted to get away from the overwhelming sensations.

It was getting harder and harder to think, and you could barely focus on his words as he coaxed them in your ear.

“I was watching you today, you know. But you didn't see me- did you? No, no too focused on that little lecture hm?” he pressed, rubbing the vibrator in little circular sensations against your clit as you moaned and panted.

It was a mix between pleasure and pain- what he was giving you, and the lines seemed to be blurring over one another the longer you felt your body uncontrollably shake.

“Peter I’m sorry-” you gasped, clawing at his hand down by your cunt, but it wouldn't budge. Peter had you pinned down and spread open- just the way he wanted you.

Vulnerable and alone, for him. He deserved you. You just weren't focused enough on him to notice that.

“You are eh? Cute.”

“I am!” you protested, the whiney tone in your voice rewarded with his hand tightening around your airway. He knew just how to choke you properly, just squeezing the sides of your neck gently.

He had done his research after all, he didn’t want you passing out on him yet. He had so much to tell you.

Still, whether it was from the pressure of the stimulation, your vision began to go fuzzy around the edges. He tsked, shaking his head mockingly as he heard your breaths quicken, knowing you were getting close.

“Listen to how wet you are angel. Your cunnie gettin all messy sweets?” Peter asked gently, making your squeeze your eyes shut, as if you were bracing yourself for what was coming.

His smile turned evil, mocking, and you hated him for it. You hated how well he knew your body and how to tease you, making the rubber band in your core snap past its breaking point.

Every single time he pushed you, and every single time you broke harder than before.

“No, no please.” you begged, yet your words were useless. With a little twist of his wrist, the toy hit just the right spot, the eye contact he gave you the final push to send you over the edge.

You screamed, begging him as the orgasm washed over you. “Shh, shh just let it happen, princess. You need to stop fighting it.” he cooed, hand releasing from your neck to stroke your cheek, a stray tear lingering on the heated skin.

Wetness squirted from you, spraying over the sheets and Peter's hand as you mindlessly babbled to him, your words slurring together as your legs shook harder.

“Atta girl. Attaa girl.” he smiled, removing the toy from its place, setting it down before he pressed a hand down on your lower abdomen to steady you.

“Peter I can't– anymore-” you panted, words coming out between gasps as you attempted to catch your breath.

“You don't have to, but m’gonna use you for a bit okay? Just rest, let me use your princess parts.” he whispered, positioning himself despite your sleepy protests, hands coming up to claw around his biceps.

“Sensitive.” you moaned, body jerking as he wasting no time slipping inside of you, stretching you out around him as he threw his head back and moaned in pleasure- ignoring you.

“You're getting what you deserve. You're supposed to be used angel. But only from me.” he smiled sweetly, grip tightening on your thighs as he spread your legs further apart, watching as your own hands slipped down to palm your tits.

“You like this, don’t you, angel? Just a lil dumb baby, can't think for herself eh?” You nodded, moaning as he sank deeper, brushing up against your g-spot.

“Just not- not inside mkay?” you requested softly, head falling slack against the sheets as sleep spread through your bones. “Whatever you say angel.” he smirked smugly, knowing your request go un funfilled.

Oh well, he thought, beginning to piston into you for his own pleasure. Oh well.

[get-your-fics]

Dark!Ikaris selling his stepsister’s cherry to dark!Druig? He never liked her. Druig on the other hand has had a longtime crush on her. Ikaris made sure to let their parents know she’ll be in good hands. As he counts the money he can hear faint cries coming from her room.

warnings for non-con, loss of virginity, choking

word count: 756

"Do you have the cash?"

Druig rolled his eyes. "Sheesh, impatient, are we?" He dug the roll of cash out of his jeans and held it out to him.

Ikaris snatched it out of his hand. He snapped the rubber band and started counting the bills. When he was satisfied with the amount, he stuffed it in the pocket of his coat. "I'll be gone for a few hours. You'll have the place to yourself." He looked up at him. "You're not going to hurt her, are you?"

"Aw," Druig cooed, "so you do care for her after all."

Ikaris scoffed. "No. I just want to make sure our parents won't hear a word about this."

Druig mimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. "Don't worry. She'll be well taken care of."

"Good." Ikaris eyed the bedroom door before turning on his heel.

"Don't hurry back!" Druig called after him. The front door slammed in response. He snickered before heading to your room.

You were where Ikaris had left you, your wrists and ankles tied to your four-poster bed. When you spotted Druig, you started struggling again, crying and pulling against your restraints.

"I wouldn't bother. If I know anything about Ikaris, it's that he knows how to tie a good knot." Druig hopped up on the bed, crawling towards you on all fours. "It's just us now, sweet pea."

"Get away from me!" you shrieked, writhing on the bed.

He climbed on top of you. "I just want to make sure the merchandise is in good condition, as promised." He slipped his hand into your panties, pressing two fingers into you.

You yelped, your body tensing up. "Stop, please!" you begged as he stretched you open.

He laughed at your misery. "Mm, I knew you'd be tight." He removed his fingers and reached for his zipper. "You're going to feel amazing."

"No, don't!" Your pulse spiked. "I've never-"

"I know," he cut you off, smirking. "Why do you think I paid so much?"

You blinked up at him. He positioned himself at your entrance. "This might hurt a little." You opened your mouth to protest again, but he pushed into you before you got a chance.

An ear-splitting scream ripped from your throat. He didn't slow down a bit, thrusting into you to the hilt. "Just relax," he said in a tone you assumed was meant to be soothing, but didn't calm you down in the slightest.

He pulled back only to curve his hips into you, jolting you on the bed. He set a slow, torturous pace. You could feel every ridge and vein of him as he moved inside of you. Your hands curled into fists, your nails digging into your palms so hard they left marks.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this." He grabbed onto the top of the headboard, using it as leverage to fuck into you at a new angle. "This is all your fault, really. If you'd just paid attention to me, we could've done this for free."

His breath came in hot bursts against your neck. He sped up, his hips slamming into yours so hard, you knew there'd be bruises. You gritted your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to endure it. Your eyes shot open when you felt a hand on your neck.

"Look at me when I come," he commanded, his eyes boring into yours. The mattress squeaked repeatedly as he jackhammered into you. His grip on your throat tightened, constricting your airway. Your mouth fell open as you gasped for breath, and you stared up at him with wide eyes.

He stared back as he went still above you, a shiver rolling through his body. A moment later, you felt something wet and warm gush inside of you. "Fuck," he groaned. He let go of your throat as he pulled out of you. Relief washed over you as your lungs filled with air, but it dissipated when you felt his come drip out of you.

His gaze lowered to your throat, and he traced the pattern his hand had created on your skin with the tip of his finger. "I do apologize. I promised your brother I wouldn't hurt you." He pressed his hands against the mattress on either side of you, caging you in. "We still have plenty of time before he gets back." He tilted his head, studying you. "There's so much I want to do to you, I don't know what to pick next."