#what if we started a pool party thread

[humunanunga]

[erenists]

Caught on Camera [G.S x fem!Reader] ❤︎

Synopsis:

Gojo is LA’s newest rising star, making waves in the celebrity scene. At an exclusive pool party hosted by one of his A-list connections, he’s introduced to you—a powerhouse in your own field and someone he’s admired from afar. But what should’ve been a smooth first impression turns into a viral disaster. In front of 500+ elite guests, Gojo slips… and accidentally crashes lips with you. The moment is caught on camera, instantly sparking dating rumors. Now, with the internet in a frenzy and PR teams scrambling, Gojo finds himself in an unexpected fake relationship with the one girl he never thought he’d get close to.

What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Eventual smut, Gojo is highkey a little cringe and embarassing, downbad and flirty Gojo, Mentions of drugs & sex.

Part two ✦ wc: 7.6k

You wake up to 34 missed calls from your pr manager and a migraine shaped like Gojo Satoru.

Your phone buzzes against your face for the 35th time. You groan, crack open one eye, and get greeted by the lock screen lighting up like a warning sign.

“GOJO & 𐙚˙⋆.˚  MIDNIGHT MAKEOUT INCIDENT: EXCLUSIVE: Sources say she left wearing his jacket.

You’re not even fully conscious yet and already ready to fake your own death. You open Twitter (mistake number one) and scroll through the trending tags.

#GojoX𐙚˙⋆.˚ #MysteryMakeout #ItCouple

Someone’s posted grainy footage of the kiss from three different angles. Another account slowed it down and added romantic piano music. There’s a particularly cursed theory thread titled “Body Language Expert Reacts”, claiming your hand placement on his chest is “intimate and clearly territorial.”

You zoom in. You were literally just squished against him and the floor..

“This is hell,” you mutter into your pillow. “I died at that party for sure" Your phone rings again and finally you pick it up. "hello..?" your voice still groggy from just waking up. "I called you more than 30 times do not tell me you were just sleeping." you pursed your lips together squeezing your eyes before speaking up. "I might..have been asleep" Your pr manager groans and you can imagine she's face palming. "me and your assistant are coming over to get you ready for your brunch date with Gojo" you roll your eyes forgetting that was the plan for today. You sit up in your bed and Immediately stretch before hopping off and waddling to your bathroom. You stare at yourself in the mirror and sigh.. today was going to be a long day..

—

You splash cold water on your face like it might rinse off the shame —your reflection still stares back like someone who's definitely regretting accidentally entering a relationship in high-definition.

“Brunch date,” you mutter to yourself. “Brunch. With Gojo Satoru.” Like repeating it will somehow make it less real.

You dry your face off and start digging through your closet, only half-functioning. What does one wear to a fake date with the most unserious man alive while under public scrutiny? Something thats cute and casual but also “I’m not here for love,” or something extra that screams “yes, we have undeniable chemistry and you’re all obsessed with us.” You land on something understated but flattering. Neutral tones, chic sunglasses, and just enough lip gloss to look like you're glowing on purpose.

By the time your manager and assistant arrive, you’re halfway through your second existential coffee.

“Okay, you look fine, that’s a win,” your manager says, breezing in with a laptop and at least seven unread stress emails. Your assistant offers a supportive granola bar.

“Here’s what we’re doing,” your manager starts, snapping open the laptop. “You go. You brunch. You laugh at something he says, but not too hard. There will be photographers at the back entrance, so we’ll go through the front to control the optics.”

You nod slowly, chewing on the granola bar like it’s your last meal.

She keeps going. “He’ll probably pull something. A hand on your back, a stupid little inside joke—he lives for the bit. Play along. But not too into it. We don’t want them thinking this is a full-on relationship.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You do remember he posted a soft-launch caption about a second kiss last night, right?”

Your assistant snorts. Your manager visibly short-circuits.

Before she can reply, there’s a knock on your door. Too rhythmic. Too chipper.

Then, from the hallway:

“I brought flowers~ and a matching color scheme~!”

You stare at the door.

“No,” you whisper.

“Yes,” your manager says grimly. “It’s showtime.”

You open the door and there he is—Gojo Satoru in a linen button-down, his snowy hair artfully messy, holding a bouquet that absolutely cost more than your rent and smiling like he didn’t set your life on fire twelve hours ago.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he asks, like this is normal.

You deadpan. “You posted about a second kiss.”

He winks. “Manifesting.”

Your manager makes a sound like she’s being physically restrained.

Gojo offers his arm. “Shall we?”

You sigh, grab your bag, and slide on your sunglasses. Fake dating. Brunch. Photographers.

Hell.

But you loop your arm through his anyway.

Because if you’re going down, you might as well look good doing it.

The moment the car door shuts behind you, you realize two things:

You should have made a stronger coffee.

You should not have agreed to this.

Gojo’s already buckled in, grinning like he’s about to ruin your life recreationally. Again.

“You clean up nice,” he says, eyeing you up and down. “Like, brunch-worthy. But also, accidentally got caught on camera and now everyone ships us chic.”

You glare at him. “You did post that soft launch, Satoru.”

“I was being strategic.” He leans back with the confidence of a man who has never faced consequences. “You know how fast the news cycle is—if we give them something to obsess over, they’ll forget all about how your knee was in my crotch for like ten full seconds.”

Your face heats. “You tripped! onto me!”

He gasps. “So you admit you were under me”

You throw your head back against the seat. “Why are you like this?”

Gojo, without missing a beat: “Trauma and impeccable genetics.”

The driver up front coughs in what you think is an attempt not to laugh.

You cross your arms and look out the window. “I can’t believe I have to be seen in public with you.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he says, leaning over to nudge your shoulder. “We’re giving people hope. Romance! Spice! The thrill of unexpected love.”

“This is fake.”

“It’s real to them,” he whispers dramatically, tapping a finger against your sunglasses like you’re both in a soap opera.

You bite back a laugh despite yourself.

He pulls out his phone and holds it up. “Selfie?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Too late,” he says, snapping one anyway—mid-scowl, your face turned away, sunglasses sliding down your nose. He studies the photo. “Oof. You’re gonna owe me for this lighting.”

You grab for his phone and he ducks, laughing. “Okay, okay! I’ll delete it—geez, fake girlfriend’s got claws.”

You’re about to respond with something that’s probably unprintable when he suddenly quiets down, staring at you for a beat too long.

You frown. “What?”

He grins. “Nothing. Just... you’re kind of cute when you’re mad.”

You blink.

Then turn fully back to the window. “We’re almost there, right?”

He taps his fingers against his thigh like he’s fighting a laugh. “Oh yeah. Almost.”

You hate how your heart skips a little when he says it.

You’re barely out of the car when the first camera flash hits.

Then the next. And the next. It’s like stepping into a lightning storm made of chaos and extremely long camera lenses.

“Satoru! Over here!”

“𐙚˙⋆.˚ ? Is this serious?”

“Is it true you gave her your jacket and your heart?!”

You freeze halfway up the steps. Gojo throws an arm around your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world, smile dialed up to “America’s Sweetheart” levels.

“Relax,” he murmurs out of the corner of his mouth. “Just smile like you’re in love and not actively planning my murder.”

You grit your teeth and give the cameras something between a grimace and a polite grin.

One of the photographers leans forward, hopeful. “Can we get a kiss?! Just one! For the fans!”

Gojo raises his brows at you. “Should we give the people what they want?”

“Touch me and I’ll end you.”

He makes a wounded noise, clutching his chest theatrically. “You’re really leaning into the enemies-to-lovers pipeline, huh?”

You’re about to retort when a voice cuts through the crowd:

“𐙚˙⋆.˚ , IS HE THE REASON YOU MISSED THAT FASHION WEEK INVITE?”

Another: “IS THIS A PUBLICITY STUNT OR ARE YOU REALLY DATING?”

Gojo’s smile falters for a fraction of a second, then clicks back into place like a switch. He squeezes your shoulder gently—a warning, or maybe a thank you.

You grab his hand.

You don’t think about it, you just do it.

And that’s all the crowd needs. The camera flashes go nuclear, and someone actually screams.

Gojo leans in, lips near your ear. “Okay, that was Oscar-worthy. Keep that up and I might fall for you by accident.”

You manage to smile sweetly for the cameras while digging your nails into his hand. “If you do, I’ll schedule a press conference to deny everything.”

He laughs, way too charmed.

By the time you finally get through the doors of the restaurant, your face hurts from fake smiling, your heart’s doing something weird, and Gojo’s still holding your hand.

And somehow, that might be the scariest part. Inside the restaurant, it's a whole different world. Muted lighting, upscale décor, and the faint hum of string music that screams we cater to people who have assistants for their assistants. The host greets Gojo like they’ve been best friends since birth, and you’re seated at a table by the window with just enough visibility for anyone walking by to conveniently “notice” the two of you.

Gojo pulls out your chair with the flair of someone who’s never been told no in his life.

You sit, blink at the glimmering cutlery, and wonder if you can legally drink this early in the day.

"So," he starts, lounging across from you like this is his natural habitat, "are we doing the cute couple act or the tortured slow burn?"

“I think I’m going with ‘mildly hungover woman trapped in a PR nightmare.’”

He grins like you just told him he won the lottery. “God, you’re funny. No wonder the internet ships us.”

You stab at the menu with your eyes. “They don’t even know if we’re actually "dating" "

“Exactly,” he says, pointing at you with a spoon. “Mystery. Intrigue. You’re the plot twist in my life story.”

Before you can respond with something scathing and/or violent, the waiter appears.

And unfortunately, he definitely knows who Gojo is.

“Oh my god, you’re Gojo Satoru.” The poor guy is vibrating. “I love your whole vibe. That campaign you did for Givenchy? Life-changing. My roommate has a poster of you above her bed. It’s kind of weird.”

Gojo beams. “Weird is my brand.”

The waiter turns to you, eyes wide. “And you must be 𐙚˙⋆.˚! I loved the kiss video. It was giving soulmate energy. So natural.”

You cough. “Yeah, well, you know. Gravity.”

“Oh my god,” the waiter whispers. “You’re funny too. Are you two, like, official now?”

Gojo leans back, draping his arm along the booth behind you. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m about to cry,” the waiter says, scribbling something on his notepad without looking. “Do you need a few more minutes or is your connection so strong you just know what the other wants?”

You blink. “I need coffee.”

“Coming right up!” he chirps, then sprints away like he’s about to tell his entire group chat.

You let your head fall back against the booth with a dull thud. “I hate everything.”

Gojo watches you for a second, then hums. “You’re kinda cute when you suffer.”

“Say that again and I’ll make you the mystery in a true crime podcast.”

He bites his lip like he’s trying not to laugh. “You know, for a fake girlfriend, you’re dangerously good at this.”

You look at him over the rim of your water glass. “And you, for a fake boyfriend, are surprisingly tolerable.”

“Wow,” he mock-gasps. “You’re falling for me already.”

“I’m falling asleep. There’s a difference.”

He clutches his chest, pretending to swoon, and you think—just for a split second—that maybe you’re not the only one with a headache shaped like the other person. The awkwardness is palpable as you sit across from Gojo at the table, both of you trying (and failing) to act like you’re just another couple on a brunch date, but every part of this feels like a performance. The waiter has already come by three times to make sure you’re ‘enjoying your time,’ and every time, you force a smile that feels like it’s carved into your face.

Gojo’s not helping. He’s too busy ordering random items off the menu when the waiter comes back with your coffee, clearly enjoying his role as the ‘charming celebrity’—and if you weren’t so irritated, you might actually be impressed by his commitment to the bit. He waves the waiter off with a flourish, as if the entire restaurant is hanging on his every word.

"Two orders of eggs benedict, please, with extra hollandaise sauce. She loves the sauce. And I’ll have the pancakes. Yes, the big stack. Gotta keep my energy up for the rest of the day," Gojo says, his smile practically glowing.

You narrow your eyes at him, resisting the urge to facepalm. You barely know him, and now you're acting like this is normal? “You’re such a drama king," you mutter under your breath.

“I prefer the term ‘charismatic,’” he responds with a wink.

The waiter looks between you two, clearly confused but just nods and walks off. The second he’s out of earshot, you turn to Gojo.

“Are we really going to do this?” you ask, leaning in a little closer, the only thing keeping you from fully snapping being the overwhelming urge to avoid making this worse.

“Do what?” he asks, clearly pretending not to know what you mean.

“This whole... thing.” You gesture vaguely between you. “Pretend to be some picture-perfect couple while people stalk us like we’re some reality show?”

Gojo shrugs nonchalantly, already lounging back in his chair. “It’s not about perfection. It’s about the fun of it, the drama—besides, we’re just two attractive people who happen to be caught in a web of bad timing. Why not lean into it? I mean, look at the way you’re dressed,” he adds, eyeing your outfit as if it were a work of art. “You’re already playing the part.”

You glance down at your attire: chic but casual. Gojo’s right, you do look like you’ve been styled for some kind of influencer brunch. “Oh, great. Now I’m an accessory to your drama,” you mutter.

“Well, technically, you are my partner in crime now, so... it’s a good look for you,” he says, lifting his coffee cup to his lips with a smile that makes you want to roll your eyes.

You take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. “This is... this is too much. We’re getting way too into this, Gojo. People are already watching us.”

Gojo leans forward, his voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial. “Exactly. That’s the point. This isn’t just a brunch, sweetheart. This is your big debut into the world of public relationships.”

“Public relationships?!” you exclaim, a little louder than intended. You immediately glance around, hoping no one heard. “What kind of term is that?”

“Don’t worry. You’re going to love the spotlight. We’ll play it cool, and soon enough, they won’t know what hit ‘em,” Gojo assures you, his confidence as infuriating as it is infectious.

You slump in your chair, massaging your temples. “I think I might actually be getting a headache from all this performing,” you groan.

Gojo laughs, looking far too pleased with himself. “You’re not the first one. You get used to it. You’ll be the talk of the town by the end of the week, and I’ll be your favorite co-conspirator.”

Before you can respond, the waiter returns with a new round of drinks and a basket of fresh pastries. Gojo reaches for a croissant like it’s his favorite thing in the world, all while keeping his eyes trained on you.

“I’m telling you, this whole thing is going to be legendary,” he says, tearing a piece of the croissant off and offering it to you with a grin.

You stare at the piece of croissant. It feels like a metaphor for your current situation. A little too sweet. A little too staged.

“I swear if you’re going to start feeding me like some Instagram influencer, I’m out,” you say, not entirely joking.

Gojo raises an eyebrow but doesn’t take the bait. “Fine, no Instagram influencer vibes. But trust me, you’ll get used to the absurdity. Besides, once the rumors start about us, no one’s going to believe they’re fake.”

You take a deep breath, realizing you might have no choice but to ride this wave.

“Well,” you mutter, glancing at Gojo who’s still confidently munching on his croissant. “This is either going to be great or absolutely disastrous.”

“Why not both?” he says, and you’re not sure if he’s being sarcastic or just too sure of himself. Brunch wraps up in an unsettling blur of awkward silences and a waiter who definitely has a fan account for both of you now. You half expect to see a headline titled “Gojo Satoru and "𐙚˙⋆.˚ : What They Ordered and Why It Matters” on your feed by the time you leave.

As you step out of the restaurant, Gojo pulls his sunglasses on with the same theatrical flourish he’s been perfecting all morning. You take a deep breath, already anticipating the madness that’s bound to follow.

Of course, the moment you exit, a few camera flashes go off. Then a few more. You glance at Gojo, who’s clearly enjoying the attention as he casually waves. You can already feel your headache intensifying.

"You seem to like this whole... attention thing," you mutter, shielding your eyes from the flash of cameras. You move closer to him, trying to act like it’s not all so utterly bizarre.

“Of course I do,” Gojo says, slinging an arm around your shoulders like you’ve been together for years. “It’s how I pay the bills. And how I make people think I'm cool.” He grins, looking down at you. “You’re good at pretending to be my girlfriend. It's the least you can do to make me look even cooler.”

You shoot him a look. "Pretending to be your girlfriend is not on my resume."

“Oh, trust me, it's a skill you’ll need soon enough,” he says, a teasing glint in his eye. “You’re practically a pro at it already."

Another set of flashes goes off, and you find yourself being herded toward a waiting car. You didn’t even know how they knew to pick you up, but at this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if Gojo had a paparazzi hotline on speed dial.

The ride to Gojo’s place is eerily quiet except for the soft hum of the city outside the tinted windows. You lean your head against the cool glass, trying to gather your thoughts.

"This whole thing is ridiculous," you mutter, half to yourself.

Gojo turns to you, unbothered by the paparazzi situation. “And yet... it’s working.”

“Is it?”

“Did you see the look on the waiter’s face when I mentioned we’re basically soulmates? The internet's gonna explode with that.” He looks at you, not entirely teasing anymore, just... studying you. “You’re good at this, but you gotta let loose a little. Fake relationships are all about chemistry, after all.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And you think we have that?”

Gojo’s smirk widens. “I mean, look at us. We’re already a trending topic. I’d say we have it in spades.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. If by ‘chemistry,’ you mean forced proximity and shared trauma from this whole thing, then yes. We're practically on fire.”

The car pulls up to a building that looks like it’s made entirely of glass. You assume it’s his place from the confident, almost knowing look in his eyes.

As you both step out, Gojo hands you a coffee cup, the steam rising from it like a faint reminder that life must go on despite everything.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a wink, “I think we’re getting better at this whole ‘fake relationship’ thing. Just wait till tomorrow. You’re going to be a pro by the time this is over.”

You glance at him, annoyed but also a little curious. “Why do I get the feeling I’ve already been roped into something way worse than I expected?”

“Because you have,” he says casually, like it's just another Tuesday in the life of Gojo Satoru.

You follow Gojo into the building, still nursing your coffee as you try to wrap your head around the whirlwind of the day. Your life—your very private life as a celebrity—has now somehow been hijacked by Gojo’s own celebrity antics, and you’re starting to wonder how the hell you’ve ended up in this mess. Not to mention, you still have no idea why you agreed to this in the first place.

Gojo takes you up in the elevator, the hum of the machine the only sound between the two of you as the doors close. His easy confidence is starting to rub off on you, but it also feels like it’s only making things worse. How are you supposed to act normal in this situation? You’re pretending to be his girlfriend, and every time you think you’ve got a handle on it, he pulls some new stunt that messes everything up.

You glance over at him. He’s leaning against the wall of the elevator, clearly unbothered by anything at all. Of course he is. This is probably just another day in Gojo Satoru’s world.

“So,” you start, trying to keep the tone light, “what’s the plan now? Do we go inside, get cozy, and start planning our ‘romantic’ Instagram posts?” You raise an eyebrow at him, trying to get a rise out of him.

He turns his head to look at you, a sly grin playing on his lips. “If you want to post something, I’m all for it,” he says, completely unfazed. “But we’re not just hanging out. I've got some work to do that Ichiji told me about , and you’re coming with me.”

You blink, not quite understanding. “Work? You mean... we’re not just, like, pretending to be a couple for a few hours? There’s actual work involved?”

Gojo shrugs, his grin widening. “The ‘relationship’ part’s just the beginning. There’s a lot more to it than that. You think the media just stops after one brunch date?” He chuckles, clearly amused at your confusion. “If we’re gonna sell this, we need to keep the momentum going. Meet the fans, take some pictures, do interviews. The usual stuff, I thought your pr manager would have told you by now”

You groan. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Gojo replies, clearly enjoying this more than he should. “By the time we’re done, people won’t know whether to ship us or hire us for their next rom-com. Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

Before you can protest any further, the elevator doors slide open, revealing what can only be described as a luxury penthouse. The floors are gleaming marble, the walls lined with art, and large windows offer an expansive view of the city. The entire place exudes an air of wealth and excess, but Gojo walks in like it’s nothing special, slipping his shoes off casually by the door.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter under your breath. “This is where you live?”

Gojo looks back at you over his shoulder. “I told you. It’s a bit much, but it’s mine.” He walks farther in, seemingly at home here, while you’re stuck standing in the doorway, trying to process everything.

“Alright,” he says, turning to face you, “I need to grab some things, and you need to change into something a little more... casual for the media rounds.”

You blink, confused. “Media rounds? Like, we’re doing press now?”

He holds up a hand. “Of course we are. The internet is already making wild assumptions about us, and I have to make sure we’re controlling the narrative. You’ll be fine. You’ve got this.” His smile is teasing, but there’s an edge of seriousness beneath it. “The sooner we get this stuff out of the way, the sooner we can relax.”

You look at him, half-exasperated and half-terrified. “I’m so not ready for any of this.”

Gojo smirks. “Good thing you don’t have to be. Just follow my lead, and you’ll do great. Besides, you’re already nailing the ‘girlfriend’ thing. It’s working wonders.”

You sigh, your hands clenching around your coffee cup as you mentally prepare yourself for what’s next. This day isn’t even halfway done, and already, you feel like you’ve crossed the threshold into some weird alternate reality where nothing makes sense, but it’s all somehow happening to you.

“Fine,” you say with a resigned sigh. “Let’s do this.”

The next few hours are a blur of photo ops, interviews, and awkward, highly staged moments designed to make your fake relationship with Gojo seem as real as possible. You start to feel like you’re part of some weird reality show, constantly on camera, always on for the public eye.

At one point, during a particularly cringy interview with a gossip blogger, Gojo casually tosses an arm around your shoulders and whispers into your ear, “Remember: chemistry. You’re doing great.”

You try to keep your face neutral, but on the inside, you’re screaming. This is so not your idea of a good time. But when the interview finally wraps up, Gojo gives you a playful nudge.

“You’re getting the hang of it,” he says. “A little more ‘we’re so in love’ and less ‘this is torture’ next time.”

You glare at him. “I think I’m going to need a nap before you start planning the next round of chaos.”

“Take all the naps you want,” he says with a wink. “I’ll just make sure the fans think you’re madly in love with me while you’re sleeping.” you

The day continued in a haze of media events, each more ridiculous than the last. At one point, you find yourself in a boutique, trying on outfits Gojo insists will help sell the “romantic” vibe. You can’t even remember how you ended up here, but at this point, it feels like you’re just a prop in Gojo’s fake dating game.

He’s still the same: effortlessly charming, annoying, and completely in control. He practically drags you through the racks of clothes, offering his “expert opinions” on everything you try on, and you can’t tell whether he’s being serious or just having fun messing with you.

"How about this one?" he asks, holding up a black dress that could probably cost a college students tuition. "It screams 'I’m secretly in love with you' while still being mysterious. Very sexy, right?"

You deadpan at him from behind the fitting room curtain. "I don’t know, Gojo, I’m pretty sure ‘mysterious’ can also mean ‘unemployed and broke’ when you're wearing something like that."

He laughs loudly enough for the whole store to hear. "You're killing me, you know that?"

You walk out, still in your regular clothes, and cross your arms. "I’ll stick with what I’ve got."

He grins, unfazed. "Fair enough. You’re probably saving me from making a whole bunch of questionable purchases anyway."

The rest of the afternoon is a mix of sponsored content, staged photos, and Gojo trying to make you laugh every time a camera catches a shot of you two. It’s exhausting, but somehow, it feels like you’re getting better at it—if only because you have to.

By the time you finally collapse on the couch in Gojo’s penthouse after the last media appearance, you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this drained. You pull a blanket over yourself and bury your face in a pillow, hoping that the chaos of the day will finally end.

Gojo plops down next to you, his energy still as high as ever, even though you’re pretty sure he’s been going nonstop since dawn. "Tough day, huh?" he asks, as if he doesn’t know the answer.

You groan into the pillow. "You’re the one who made me do all of this. I should be asking you if you’re okay."

He chuckles. "I’m fine. Just keeping up appearances."

You turn your head to glance at him. "Yeah, I can see that. But how much longer is this whole thing gonna last? You know, the fake relationship?"

Gojo's grin fades, just a little, his eyes flickering to the window. He leans back, tapping his fingers against the couch thoughtfully. "You’ve got a lot of questions today. Want the truth?"

You sigh and sit up, curiosity piqued. "Sure, give me the truth."

He hesitates for a moment, and for the first time, you see a flicker of something more serious behind his playful exterior. "I don’t know how long this whole thing will last," he admits. " Ichiji says the media moves fast. One week we’re in love, the next week it’s over, and no one cares anymore. But... if this helps with the scandal, it’ll be worth it. You’ll be out of it soon enough, too."

You’re quiet for a beat, processing his words. Part of you wants to ask why he’s even doing this—why agree to something so crazy that could end up backfiring.

After a moment, you finally speak. "You’re really good at this, you know. The whole... fake relationship thing. The cameras, the smiles, the ‘we’re totally in love’ act. It’s like you’ve been doing it your whole life."

Gojo shrugs nonchalantly, his signature grin back in place. "You get used to it. Plus, it’s fun when you’ve got someone to keep you on your toes."

"Right," you mutter, sinking back into the couch. "Well, just know that I’m not sticking around for the afterparty. I’m counting the days until I can go back to my normal life."

Gojo lets out a loud, exaggerated sigh, clearly amused. "Fair enough. But you might miss me. I’m pretty irresistible once you get past the insane amount of chaos I bring."

You can’t help but laugh despite yourself. "I don’t know if ‘irresistible’ is the word I’d use."

"Give it time," he winks at you. "You’ll be begging for my autograph before this is over."

You groan. "At this point, I’ll be begging for a nap."

Gojo laughs, his voice light and carefree. "Deal. But just know, when the paparazzi get too much, you can always hide behind me. I’m like a walking shade tree."

You shake your head, but there’s a part of you that appreciates how unrealistically confident he is, and maybe, just maybe, there’s a hint of admiration buried underneath the frustration.

"Alright, Gojo," you say with a grin. "We’ll see how long that lasts."

And just like that, the tension between you two shifts a little. Maybe this fake relationship thing won’t be so bad after all. Or maybe, by the end of it, you’ll be begging for the media to leave you alone.

Gojo, ever the showman, is lounged across from you with the lazy confidence of someone who doesn’t realize he’s poking a tiger with a spoon.

"You know," he says, tapping away on his phone, "I still can’t believe you said yes to this whole fake-dating thing."

You snort. "I didn’t say yes. I was blackmailed with a viral video and thirty missed calls."

He grins. "Tomato, to-mah-to. Either way, I win."

There’s a pause. You glance over at him, noticing something softer in his expression now, less teasing, more... thoughtful.

"I thought you were way out of my league," he says, almost too casually. "Like—untouchable. You’ve been dominating your field since I was still posting outfit-of-the-day selfies with ten likes."

You blink, caught off guard. "Is this supposed to be flattery or just a very strange confession?"

Gojo chuckles. "Both? Look, I’ve admired you for a while. You’ve got that intimidating, ‘I-own-the-room-just-by-existing’ vibe. I mean, half the internet thinks you invented success."

You tilt your head, skeptical. "And that made you want to fake-date me?"

"No," he says, a little too quickly. "That made me want to talk to you. The fake-dating thing just... forced the issue."

You study him, trying to read through his usual deflective charm. It’s weird—he’s ridiculous, yes. But not fake. Not in this moment.

"And what exactly did you imagine would happen if we did talk?" you ask, voice quieter now.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Honestly? I thought you’d think I was a joke. But instead, you kissed me . Accidentally. But still."

You roll your eyes. "You tripped, and I got tackled into because a suspiciously slippery floor was involved."

He smirks. "Details, details."

A beat of silence.

"You’re not what I expected," you finally say. "Not just the chaos. There’s... more underneath it."

"Careful," Gojo warns with a playful wag of his finger. "If you start liking me, this whole thing becomes complicated."

You arch a brow. "Who said anything about liking you?"

He grins. "You will."

You laugh—against your better judgment. And for a moment, you forget about the flashing cameras, the curated headlines, the pressure of being a public figure. For just a moment, it’s two people sitting in a too-bright apartment, sharing bad coffee and worse jokes.

And Gojo? He looks at you like maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t want to stop pretending.

Not yet.

The next day starts way too early for someone being forced to participate in a public soap opera.

You’re barely out of bed, squinting at your phone with one eye open, when the onslaught begins: fifteen new texts, seven missed calls, and a voice memo from your assistant that just starts with, “Please don’t kill me, but—”

You pause it immediately. That never ends well.

Moments later, you're standing in your kitchen in mismatched socks, scrolling through a headline that makes you physically recoil.

GOJO & [REDACTED]: THE RISE OF A POWER COUPLE “Sources close to the influencer say she might be The One.”

“The One?” you mutter. “The one who tolerates him for more than five hours, maybe.”

Right on cue, Gojo texts:

Gojo [7:16 AM]:

u up 😇

Gojo [7:16 AM]:

also ur on like…three blogs and someone made a stan edit of our brunch lol

Gojo [7:17 AM]:

…also ur assistant said i have to pick u up in 30 we’re going to a press event ily 💙

You stare at the screen for a full ten seconds before replying.

You [7:18 AM]:

I hate you. Bring coffee.

The car ride is quieter than yesterday, though only because you’re still half-asleep and Gojo’s too busy showing you fan edits like a proud parent.

“Look at this one,” he says, holding his phone toward you. “They used sparkles. Sparkles, babe.”

“Stop calling me that.”

He ignores you. “This one says we’re giving ‘power couple with generational wealth and matching trauma’ and honestly? Accurate.”

You slump deeper into your seat. “How is this my life now?”

Gojo leans back, throwing an arm over the headrest to look at you. “You’re thriving, that’s how. And don’t act like you’re not curious to see what chaos today brings.”

You shoot him a look, but it’s half-hearted at best. You kind of are.

The press event is exactly as horrible as you thought it would be.

Red carpet, flashing lights, the whole “step-and-repeat” nightmare. Gojo, of course, is in his element. He’s wearing designer like it’s thrifted, grinning like he’s been media-trained since birth, and keeping one hand on your waist the whole time like he actually wants to be there with you.

You, meanwhile, are internally screaming.

The questions start flying as soon as you step in front of the cameras.

“Are you two official?”

“What’s the story behind the kiss?”

“Are you working on any projects together?”

Gojo answers the last one before you can.

“We’re working on not murdering each other in public,” he says with a smirk. “So far, it’s going well.”

You flash a tight smile. “Barely.”

Another reporter leans in, clearly emboldened. “But you two do look good together. Any chance you guy might be the one for each other?”

Your breath catches. For half a second, you freeze.

Then Gojo says, with just enough charm to make it sound like a joke, “We’ll let you know after dessert.”

The crowd laughs. You don’t. Because when you glance at Gojo, he’s already looking at you—not with the usual smugness, but something quieter.

Something that almost looks real. Backstage is a blur of too-bright lights, assistant whispers, someone yelling about a missing bottle of Evian, and at least three PR reps trying to shove last-minute talking points into your brain.

You barely make it through the curtain before someone’s tugging you toward a makeup station for “a touch-up,” even though you were just on camera for twenty solid minutes and your face is basically cemented in place.

Gojo, of course, is already lounging in a chair with a smoothie, sunglasses on indoors like he’s allergic to humility. He grins when he sees you. “Survived your first official red carpet as my fake girlfriend. I’m so proud.”

“You were loving every second of that.”

“You weren’t?”

You stare at him.

He leans in conspiratorially. “Come on. You did look good out there. You were giving mysterious, unattainable goddess. I was just here for the supporting role.”

“You said three separate times that you were the star.”

“I lie when I’m nervous,” he says, deadpan, and takes another sip of his smoothie.

Before you can retort, a harried-looking woman with a clipboard appears.

“There’s a quick joint interview in ten. You’ll both be sitting. Keep it flirty, fun, and off-script. We’re trying to make people feel like they’re seeing something real, not staged.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So lie, but make it sexy.”

“Exactly,” she says, unbothered, and disappears again like a cryptid in heels.

You turn to Gojo. “Tell me you at least pretended to read the talking points.”

“I skimmed,” he says, shrugging. “Besides, I figure I can just talk and you’ll do your intimidating genius thing and people will love us.”

“...That’s your entire strategy?”

“That, and my bone structure,” he says, tapping his cheek.

You sigh, sitting beside him in the corner of the green room. He’s still watching you, but quieter now. Less teasing, more thoughtful.

“You know,” he says, suddenly serious, “I meant what I said. About you being good at this.”

You glance at him. “What, fake dating?”

“Well, yeah, that. But also…” He gestures vaguely. “This. Fame. Pressure. All of it. You walk into a room and people listen. You don’t try to be anything you’re not, and somehow that makes everyone pay attention.”

You blink. “That’s the most coherent compliment you’ve given me since this started.”

“I’m evolving,” he says, solemnly. “Like a sexy Pokémon.”

You snort, but your stomach flips a little anyway.

Before you can answer, someone calls for the two of you.

Gojo hops up and offers you his hand with a crooked smile. “Come on, soulmate. Time to go lie on camera again.”

You take it. His fingers are warm.

“Let’s go make them believe,” you mutter.

He grins. “That’s the spirit.” The interview set is aggressively glossy—white couches, soft lighting, and a backdrop plastered with the event’s logo on loop. There’s a camera crew already rolling, a host with a dazzling smile too sharp to be sincere, and two microphones waiting like weapons on the low coffee table in front of you.

You sit. Gojo flops beside you like this is his living room, one arm draped lazily across the back of the couch, behind you but not quite touching. He’s turned slightly toward you already—calculated angles for the camera—and you realize with a jolt that he’s done this before. Maybe not at this scale, but the man knows how to sell an image.

The host launches in, bright-eyed and ruthless.

“So!” she chirps, crossing her legs and leaning in just enough to seem nosy. “Tonights red carpet—wow. The internet’s calling you the new It Couple. How does that feel?”

Gojo doesn’t miss a beat. “Surreal,” he says with a smile that could’ve been engineered in a lab. “But I mean—have you seen her? If I wasn’t in love before, the dress tonight did it.”

You nearly choke. Your PR manager will be proud—your laugh comes out smooth and charming, not unhinged.

“She’s used to attention,” Gojo adds, nudging your knee slightly with his own. “I’m just lucky to be standing next to her while people finally start figuring out I’m more than just a pretty face.”

You shoot him a sideways look. “Bold of you to assume they figured that out.”

The host laughs like that was the best line she’s heard all day. Gojo just grins, eyes crinkling under the edge of his sunglasses now perched atop his head.

“Okay, but seriously,” the host says, flipping through a card she absolutely doesn’t need. “There’s been speculation about how the two of you met. Theories range from a secret project to fate at a rooftop party.”

You open your mouth, but Gojo beats you to it. “It was fate. I tripped. and fell on her. Very romantic. Lots of camera flashes. The whole meet-cute package.”

You deadpan, “You almost squished me to death.”

“But I got to kiss you,” he says, hand briefly tapping his chest. “That’s the part they’re keeping in the movie version.”

The host absolutely eats it up.

“Any inside jokes between you two yet?” she asks, clearly loving every minute.

Gojo glances at you, and for a second—just a second—he looks a little too sincere. “She calls me annoying at least twice a day. I’m hoping that’s her love language.”

Your lips twitch. “I’m still learning his language. It’s mostly chaos and memes.”

He grins. “She’s catching on fast.”

You both breeze through a few more questions: favorite things about each other (“Her brain,” he says. “His hair,” you say, mostly to throw him off), how you’re balancing your “newfound relationship” with your careers, and what the future looks like.

It’s ridiculous. All of it. But somehow, sitting next to him, batting lines back and forth like you’ve been doing this forever—it starts to feel natural.

Almost too natural.

As the interview wraps and the cameras cut, Gojo turns to you with a low whistle.

“Not bad, huh?”

You shake your head, dazed. “You’re scary good at this.”

He leans in close, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach do something stupid. “That’s because I’ve been imagining this for a while.”

You blink. “This? A fake relationship?”

He smirks. “You. Sitting next to me. Looking like that. Laughing at my dumb jokes.”

And just like that, he’s up and gone, waving cheerfully to the crew, leaving you frozen on the couch with a brain full of static.

Fake relationship, you remind yourself.

Totally fake.

But the way your heart just skipped? That didn’t feel fake at all.

Twitter is a war zone.

As soon as the interview drops, your phone is vibrating nonstop like it’s trying to eject itself from your bag. You make the mistake of opening it.

There, at the top of your feed:

“THEY’RE SO IN LOVE I’M GONNA SCREAM.”

@User3245: the way gojo LOOKS at her??? that man is not acting idc #GojoGate #PowerhousePrincess

“Body Language Expert Reacts: Gojo Satoru is DOWN BAD.”

16-minute YouTube analysis incoming.

“they said inside jokes??? FAVORITE THINGS??? i’m throwing my phone goodbye.”

Someone already has a clip on loop of Gojo saying, “I’ve been imagining this for a while,” followed by the audio from that one song that makes everyone cry. There’s fanart. Shipping hashtags. A tweet that simply reads, “help. i want what they have.” followed by four thousand retweets and a very cursed slideshow edit.

The internet is in love with an illusion. And maybe, just maybe, it’s starting to love you too.

Back at Gojo’s apartment, you kick off your shoes like you’re shedding a second skin. Your head is still buzzing with the afterglow of flashing lights and fake laughter. But there’s something else too—a tight pull behind your ribs that won’t quite let go.

Gojo flops onto his couch, arms stretched along the back like he’s hosting an imaginary talk show. “We killed it, didn’t we?”

You sink down beside him, careful to keep space between your bodies. “We were convincing, I’ll give you that.”

He looks over at you, that playful gleam still there—but softer now, like the stage lights are gone and he’s just Gojo. Not the internet’s favorite almost-boyfriend.

“You really think I was just acting?”

Your breath catches. “What?”

“That stuff I said,” he shrugs, casually, like it’s no big deal. But his voice is quieter. More real. “About imagining this.”

You pause. “I figured you were just selling it. Like always.”

“I was,” he admits. “Mostly.”

Your heart’s doing something deeply inconvenient again.

He doesn’t look away. “But I’ve followed your career for years. You’re brilliant. You’re terrifying. I never thought I’d even get to talk to you, let alone sit next to you and joke like this.”

“Gojo—”

“And yeah, this whole fake thing? It started out as damage control,” he says, leaning in just a little. “But you don’t fake what’s been happening when the cameras are off.”

You don’t realize how close he is until the space between you disappears completely.

Not a kiss. Not yet. Just silence. A breath caught between one world and the next.

“I didn’t think this would get to me,” you say finally, eyes meeting his. “But it kind of has.”

He smiles—genuine, without a trace of performance. “Good. Because I was starting to think I was the only one losing it.”

You laugh, the tension breaking just enough for you to lean in too.

When it happens, it’s soft. Unrushed. Like a secret being told just for you.

And for once, no cameras flash. No hashtags appear. There’s no crowd, no trending tags, no need to fake a thing.

Just you and Gojo.

No pretending.

Only real.

A/N: RAHH part two is complete and yes THEY KISS, 𐙚˙⋆.˚  is definitely starting to warm up to Gojo and omg Gojo admits how he's actually known about 𐙚˙⋆.˚  and admired her for a while oh mer gerddd I hope you guys liked this I think im making two or three more parts :)

Masterlist ✼ Part three

Taglist! @pickledsoda

[blueeyedheizer]

Hii can you write for Cassie using prompts 15 and 17

#15 - Look at you, all flushed and pretty. You’re perfect.

#17 - "Can we wait a second? I wanna take a picture of you right now." (18+, smut under the cut)

back to post this because it got lost in my drafts. sorry <3

"I wasn't flirting with him." Cassie sighs, her fingers threading in your hair as she watches you pull her panties down her legs. The dress she had meticulously picked for Maddy's birthday party is pooling a her waist as she sits on one of the two regular sized beds in the guest room, legs spread wide.

You scoff humorlessly, meeting her gaze.

"What, you think I didn't see that little stunt you pulled back there?" you part her legs some more, running your palms up and down the warm skin of her inner thighs, your lips kissing the crease where her hip and thigh met, moving dangerously close to her core. "How you ground against him... and how hard you made him?"

As you lean forward and stick your tongue out to drag it up her folds, Cassie's reply dies in her throat. Her eyes roll back when your tongue stiffens, the tip of it coming in direct contact with her clit without warning, slowly flicking left to right.

"I didn't do it on purpose." she eventually manages to get the words out, her breathing becoming uneven. "Oh—! m-my God, we... we were just dancing." Cassie gasps, tossing her head back.

"Don't fucking lie to me." you spat. "He wanted to fuck you, didn't he? Bet he wanted a taste of that sweet pussy, too." you laughed. "Do you know him?"

"No."

Lick.

"Did you tell him your pussy belongs to me?"

Lick.

"I...I- fuck, oh my god," her words trail off as you suck her clit between your lips, then pull back with a soft pop just enough to free yourself to speak. 

"Did you?"

"N-No, I—." she whines and you dive back between her legs, licking around and sucking on her clit, wondering how long it’ll take for that boy to look for her and walk in the room to see the two of you like this.

"Who's this pussy belong to?"

"You." she sighs, annoyed that you've already pulled apart from her clit. "It's yours."

"That's right." you bring three fingers to her pussy, spreading her folds, moving up and down around her labia, looking at her to take in her reaction. Finally you push a finger in, easily with how wet she is. "And don't you forget it."

Cassie's body shakes as she moans, her arms giving out causing her upper body to drop to the bed. You seal your lips around her clit again and Cassie can barely think anymore, thighs spasming as pleasure floods through her body with every flick of your tongue. She keeps a tight grip on your hair, pushing you closer as she grinds against your mouth, the bed starting to creak just slightly. She tries to speak, her words slurred as the pleasure builds.

"I was— it's— fuck, baby." she cries out. "I wasn't flir— hmph, flirting with him. I would've never— n-never done that to you. Ah—!"

You dismiss her completely and pull away, your mouth detaching from her cunt with a pop. "I'm going to fucking ruin you." you laugh, kneading the skin of her thighs. "I'm gonna make you come again and again until you beg me to stop."

Cassie nods furiously, her face growing redder by the second.

"Yes. Yes, do it. Make me come— please." she whines.

"Fuck, Look at you." you laugh, looking up at her in awe. "All flushed and pretty. You’re perfect.”

The heat of your mouth has her crying out as your presses yourself right back into her cunt. Your lips close around her clit, sucking harshly. She can hardly contain the moans and pathetic little sounds that slip past her lips, her back arching with every little thing you do.

"I'm gonna... uh! I'm gon—" the last of her sentence dissolves into a moan as one of her hands find the crumpled sheet above her head, grasping for anything to hold as her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

"You're gonna what, baby...?"

Before she can even think of answering, Cassie's body goes rigid. Her legs tremble near violently around your head and her hand keeps a firm grip on your hair, a desperate scream ripping from her throat as she comes, the vibrations from your moans only prolonging the pleasure.

Cassie is incoherent by this point, too overwhelmed with pleasure, and you just keep going.

You keep eating her out, making her come over and over like you promised, pumping your fingers inside her until the coil snaps again and she lets out a guttural scream, her body trembling and clenching as the aftershocks of her orgasm continue.

You make her come a total of four times with just your mouth and fingers, and she's boneless by the time you're done with her, lying there completely blissed out, dried tear tracks down her face, her pussy red and swollen and still aching from the overstimulation.

"Are you okay?" you murmur, touching her so carefully as you clean her up. Cassie can't manage much more than a whimper and a nod, still catching her breath. "You did so well, baby. Such a good girl for me." you praise, pressing the lightest of kisses along her jawline.

"I love you." she whispers.

"I know, baby. I love you too, so much." you bring your lips back up to hers, kissing her softly, your tongue running along her bottom lip before catching it between your teeth. Cassie sighs at the feeling and your lips quirk into a smirk as you let go, pecking her lips one last time.

"We should head back..." Cassie reasons, finally in control of her thoughts again. "Maddy must be wondering where we went."

"Can we wait a second? I wanna take a picture of you right now."

Cassie chuckles, propping herself onto her forearms, brows raised in amusement as you get off the bed.

"Did you bring your Polaroid?" You wink at her and nod, pulling the camera out of your handbag which you had previously set on a chair nearby. "You already have a thousand pictures of me naked." she chuckles and you climb back onto the bed with her, pecking her lips softly.

"I want a thousand more."

[pahtoosh]

pools and kisses

masterlist

summer celebration masterlist

18+

wc: 960 words

warnings: brief descriptions of reader being afraid of/avoiding water, reason is not specified

a/n: day four of the summer celebration!!! thank you everyone who has interacted with these stories. waking up to see so many notifications made me so happy🥺

pairing: mafia!bucky x gn!little!reader

summary: Bucky decides to help his baby get over their fear of the pool

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Today was the big day: Bucky was going to get you into the pool. You were always curious about it, but too scared to do anything more than dip your feet. Your daddy bought you an adorable kiddie pool, but it wasn’t very comfortable to sit in. The water always stayed ice cold and you could feel the seams of the plastic along the pool’s edge. You decided you were better off hanging out in the grass and doing land stuff like playing with the sprinkler.

Sometimes Bucky would have a party and invite your little friends. They’d get dressed with their floaties and play games in the water, but neither the company, the games, nor the colorful pool toys were enough to pull you from the ledge.

Bucky was content with sticking to your land boundary, but a few too many glances at the pool convinced him that you were more curious about the water than you had let on.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

“Hey, sweetie, whatcha up to?”

“Colorin’! Look!” You proudly held up a sheet from your coloring book.

“Oh it’s beautiful! Can Daddy take a picture of it?”

You nodded and went to pick another coloring sheet.

“Hang on there, bun. Daddy has a question for you. It’s a big one, we might need the chair for this.”

You let up a small gasp and scrambled to the large armchair in your room. Whenever Bucky had a big question to ask you, he’d do it with you in his lap. This position was grounding for the both of you, and it allowed for physical closeness without having to make eye contact.

This armchair was the perfect lap-sitting chair, but it had a couple of stuffies who needed to get out of the way first.

“Excuse me, duckie! Sorry, missus bear!” You waited patiently while Bucky got situated and then clambered onto his lap.

“Angel, do you like going outside in the summer?”

“Yeah!! I love it, Daddy. I can play with the bugs and the flowers.”

“Good, baby, good. What do you think of the pool?”

You picked at a loose thread on your shirt. “ s’okay.”

“Just okay? Well Daddy thinks it’s very fun.”

“It’s fun?”

“It’s very fun. You can swim and splash around. It’s nice and cold so you can have fun even when it’s hot outside. And don’t even get me started on all the pool toys.”

“Da pools toys look cool.”

“What d’you think about giving it a chance huh, bun? Think you can try going into the pool today?”

You felt nervous, but you knew Bucky would always keep you safe. And the pool toys did look fun.

“Okay, Daddy. I try the pool today.”

Bucky let out a cheerful alright! and scrunched up his nose cutely before kissing all over your face. He was so excited.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Not too long later, you were in your bathing suit and any revealing skin was smothered with sunblock. You might need help getting it all off your ears in the bath, but your daddy wasn’t taking any chances with your health. You were now sitting on the pool’s ledge, kicking your feet underwater to get used to the temperature.

“How’re you feeling, baby? The water feels good, right?”

“Mhm. I think I can go more into the water now.”

Bucky helped you move from the ledge to inside the pool. You whimpered a bit and instantly wrapped your arms around his neck and crossed your ankles behind his back. It felt normal being knee-deep in the water, but having it up to your chest was a little scary.

He cooed at the look of fear on your face and moved his hands to support your bottom. You were grateful for the vibranium’s ability to change to the right temperature. “Easy, baby. Daddy’s not gonna let you go.” Slowly, he moved away from the pool’s edge and swayed you in his arms like he was lulling you to sleep. “Isn’t this nice?”

You shook your head and buried your nose into the crook of Bucky’s neck. Truthfully, it was nice. The weather was lovely, the pool was at the perfect temperature, and nothing was better than being held by your daddy. But you were still scared.

“What can I do to help, baby?”

You made a whining noise and buried yourself deeper.

��Kiss, maybe?”

“Okay, come out and give Daddy some sugar.”

You giggled and kissed Bucky’s cheek before going back to your hiding spot.

“That’s it? Just one kiss? C’mon, sweetheart your Daddy’s dyin’ out here.”

You giggled and kissed his chin before repeating the cycle of kissing your daddy, then going back to your hiding spot. Nearly every inch of Bucky’s face received a kiss.

“I think you’re missing a spot, angel. And you’re still hiding.”

You took one last breath. I can do this. Daddy’s got me. Slowly, you removed your face from Bucky’s shoulder one last time and shyly pecked him on the lips. Your head stayed upright, no longer feeling the need to hide. Bucky stared at you in wonderment.

“You okay now?”

You nodded and took in your surroundings. The pool was less big and scary than you remembered. The flower garden looked different from this angle. It was nice.

You turned back to Bucky. He was cautiously optimistic about your response. He was watching out for signs of fear or discomfort and preparing himself for if you wanted to get out of the pool. However, he couldn’t help but be happy for you. Bucky was so proud of you for facing this fear and he loved you for trusting him in this vulnerable moment. You almost missed the completely smitten look on his face.

“I think I like the pool now, Daddy.”

[wolfboy88]

for the make me write thingy: can i ask for all of them? all of them are so cool

Of course you can darling. It just took a hot minute!

🪦Graveyard Secrets/Hook Up (Thiam/Thisaac/ Thiaac)

"But there's someone there," Liam insists, breathless as the figure draws near, emerging from the mist with a sinister glint in their eyes and a wicked grin on their face.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Isaac chimes in, his voice cutting through the heavy silence.

"Theo and I are just getting to know each other a little better," Liam tries to explain, his nerves getting the best of him while Theo remains cool and collected.

"I see," Isaac responds dryly. "It's about time. I was starting to think I'd drown in all that homoerotic rivalry nonsense."

"What are you doing here?" Liam finally finds his voice.

"Just making sure you two haven't killed each other," Isaac replies, his smirk unyielding.

"Kill each other? No, we've moved past that," Theo jokes with a smirk. "I'm just about to make him mine."

"That'll be a first," Isaac snickers. "Usually, it's you who's on the receiving end."

🏡 The Hellhound(s) Next Door (Liam/Halwyn/ Jordan)

So this one’s changed from a Liam/Halwyn pairing to a Liam + married Halwyn/Jordan. And it’s more smutty than spooky with the whole neighbour/voyeurism thing again.

"Well, that sounds like a recipe for boredom or mischief," Halwyn interjects. "Why don't you come join us for a swim later? Cool off and let us get to know you.”

Liam tries to hide his eager enthusiasm. "Yeah, that sounds great. I'd love to."

Jordan grins. "Awesome. We'll fire up the grill too, make it a proper pool party."

"Oh, uh, that sounds perfect," Liam says, already imagining the toned, glistening bodies of his new neighbours as they lounge poolside.

🐺 An Omega & his Alpha (Thiam/Dark Theo)

Slowly, Liam begins to regain consciousness. His eyelids flutter as he adjusts to the dimly lit surroundings. As he tries to sit up, he realizes that he is restrained and unable to move. His wrists are bound to a table, but it's not just any table —it's an operating table. And it soon becomes clear to him that he is not in a hospital; instead, he finds himself in a dark and eerie underground lair, resembling an operating theater from a horror film.

🐈‍⬛ Cat Got Your Tongue

So, this one I can’t decide on who I wanna pair Scott up with. I really wanted to do my favourite Scott rarepair Scosh (Scott x Josh) but there’s a hint of Lahey Brothers in this one and Scott either needs to end up with Isaac or Jordan. Thoughts guys?

Unfortunately, the hottest guy at the party seems oblivious to Scott's existence. Yet, he is the one person Scott would willingly allow to touch him all night long.

He's so hot and distracting, that every time he gets near Scott, accidents happen. Drinks spill, food drops, and Scott's job is hanging by a thread.

But as the night goes on and the party progresses, Scott notices the attractive man watching him. The man can't seem to take his eyes off Scott, and it makes Scott feel tingly and more clumsy than ever.

🧞‍♂️I Dream of Theo (Thiam)

Liam's heart races, torn between confusion, shock, and...something else he didn't dare name. "How is this possible? Am I hallucinating?"

"You never heard of a genie, Dunbar. Or a djinn, if you want to get technical." Theo's grin is downright predatory. "Should I call you master?”

Liam's mouth goes dry. "Master?" he squeaks, cheeks feeling warm.

🕳️ The Mythical Bathhouse (Thiam/Monsters)

Summoning his courage, Liam approaches the Berserker, his steps steady and determined. The creature's gaze follows him, its expression unreadable beneath its mask. Liam's heart races, but he refuses to let fear consume him. He has come too far to back down now.

As he approaches the entrance, the Berserker graciously steps aside, granting him passage. Liam's heartbeat quickens, and he cautiously steps through the entrance and into a seemingly ordinary locker room.

🏚️ The Horny Phantoms of Hale House (Thiam/ Hale Men)

Late into the night, after hours of setting up their gear, Liam and Theo finally retired in their shared sleeping bag, nestled together like they normally would back in their bed.

Theo, however, took comfort to a new level, snuggling against Liam and using his chest as a pillow. His hand roams down, playfully skimming over Liam's stomach before slipping into his pants.

Amused, Liam chuckles, “I can’t believe you’re getting frisky in a supposedly haunted house.”

“Got to past the time somehow,” Theo replies with a mischievous grin.

“You’re unbelievable,” Liam laughs. “Only you would think to use this a place to hookup.”

“Don’t lie, you’re thinking the same thing,” Theo teases, now boldly caressing Liam’s hard cock. “And I saw you sneakily checking out those pictures of our phantoms”

“Apparent phantoms,” Liam reminds him.

“So, who’s your favourite?”

🧛‍♂️The Vampire’s Vice (Thiam/Dark Liam)

“Mmm, is that a stake in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” Liam taunts, grinding his thigh against Theo’s hardening length.

“Fuck you,” Theo mutters, though his heart isn’t really in it; the friction sends him spiraling deeper into the vampire’s intoxicating grasp.

“Fuck you? That’s an intriguing proposition, but I think it’ll be the other way around,” Liam teases, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “You won’t be the one doing the sticking, hunter boy,” he chuckles, and Theo shivers in response. “I’d much prefer to take you,” Liam whispers, his gaze intense as he holds Theo’s eyes.

[disneyfemslash]

Disney Femslash week!

That’s right, a week to prompt, promote, and inspire f/f Disney works! A week to encourage the artists, editors, and writers to create and share their work. If you want to gush about your favorite pairs, or show off your take on how a pair would get together and work, now's the time!

The tag is #Disney femslash week

Running from Sunday March 10th - Saturday March 16th

Here are the prompts: each day has a prompt and an alternate prompt. Note you don’t have to use the prompts at all if you don’t like them or want to. They are there for those who would like a starting point or inspiration for a piece, but no one should feel obligated to use them. If you want to, neat if you want to create 7 pieces of your favorite ship with your favorite tropes also neat!

Day 1. Seasons/A New Relationship

Day 2. Colors/Music

Day 3. Fancharacters (Oc’s)/Marriage

Day 4. AU/Style Swap

Day 5. Adventure/Gifts

Day 6. Angst/Happily Ever After

Day 7. Free day/Dedicated to

Seasons: A date in spring time, holding hands and sharing a cup of tea in fall, a snowball fight in winter, or a pool party in summer, let’s see something seasonal!

A New Relationship: A first date, a first kiss, when they’re in the honeymoon phase, a first meeting where someone is struck by cupid’s bow. An early look at two people together, and the start of their love.

Colors: Maybe it’s a monochrome piece, or black and white with a single color. Maybe it’s about how the color of her eyes or her hair are so beautiful, or how the world seems brighter and more beautiful that they’ve met. Maybe it’s about how the memory of her colors day to day tasks, even now. Literal or metaphorical, let’s see some color.

Music: Two characters singing or playing instruments. A band AU, or a songfic. A first dance, or a playlist, or using a Disney song for a new ship, use music to inspire and shape a piece!

Fancharacters (OC’s): Whether it’s an OC who you ship with a character, or an fancharacter family for your ship, let’s see an a work that incorporates an OC.

Marriage: Ring out the wedding bells and get ready to cut the cake. Planning a wedding, an arranged marriage, a big bells and whistles affair, or a runaway bride. Your ship in their wedding best, a secret elopement, or a piece about your ship being happily married. What does marriage inspire?

AU: Now, practically all Disney femslash ships are AUs, but let’s see something more than X meets Y. Are they assassins? Superheroes? Is this an AU where people have wings, or are taking the roles in your favorite romcom?

Style Swap: Wearing each other’s threads, or swapped into a different style entirely. Maybe we’ll see Jane Porter in the captain’s uniform and Amelia the dress, or Tiana and Charlotte in avantgarde fashion. Maybe swap your ships into an art style, like art deco, or early rubber hose animation.

Adventure: Sometimes you fall in love right at home, at a dance, or in the neighborhood, but not this time. The clock is ticking, the sails are set and we have no time to rest. High seas, high stakes, your ship meets on or undertakes an adventure together.

Gifts: A birthday gift, an anniversary gift, or a just because gift? Tiana is a gifted cook making something, Ariel is a gifted singer, Merida is a gifted archer. The Madrigals have their gifts, and use them to impress someone. 

Angst: Is it unrequited love, a tragic end, or a bittersweet goodbye? Maybe it’s starcrossed love never to be, or true love cut short by fate, but no matter what there is at least a tinge of sadness at the end.

Happily Ever After: They finally get together, triumph, or spit out how they feel. Do they defeat the dragon, the sorcerer, they move in together, run a business, adopt a dog, or grow old? What’s the happily ever after?

Free Day: Go nuts, go wild.

Dedicated to: This isn’t a prompt so much as encouraging everyone to shout out their friends, fellows, and inspirations. Whose art got you into this all? Is there a friend you shout your concepts to and bounce ideas off? Who is always in your notes or giving you feedback?

[adhduck]

“—and we still need to get the towels, in case someone forgets. The beach ones, please, not the nice ones—”

“Yes, love, I know not to use the nice ones,” Ed says, patient with a thread of laughter in his voice. Stede ignores him and checks his hair in the bedroom mirror again, even though it may be for naught as soon as they get started.

“They know it’s at 4:30, right? Not 4?”

“I would hope so, considering 4:30 is the only time we ever gave them,” Ed says.

“But they know not to come early?”

“Stede,” he says, which is not an answer, so Stede turns to glare at him only to be met with an infuriatingly soft expression, not a hint of urgency in his boyfriend’s eyes at all. “Sweetheart. It’s gonna be fine, okay?”

“I know that,” says Stede, who does not know that and is, in fact, more sure of the opposite. “Now please, can we finish getting ready, they’re gonna be here in less than an hour and you know some of them are going to be more on time just for the drama of it—”

“Stede.” Ed grabs his shoulders, drags him gently to their bed. Stede sits with a huff, though his legs instantly thank him for the reprieve—he’d set his forearm crutches down at some point, wanting to get the cleaning done faster. Ed plops next to him. “Your friends love you. They are going to support you.”

“Us,” Stede says, though he’d been thinking mostly of himself the last few hectic hours.

“Us,” Ed agrees. “And when we tell them what we are, they are gonna love us just as much. Lucius will make some sort of hentai joke, Wee John will say he knew mermaids were real, and then we’re going to have a very fun pool party with all our friends. Okay?”

“But what if—”

“Nuh uh, no what ifs. It’s going to go great, okay? Hell, Buttons is probably one of us. Like a—penguin or something.”

Stede frowns. “Are penguin people a thing?”

Ed shrugs. “Fuck if I know. But I do know he won’t blink fucking twice at a few fins and tentacles.”

Logically, Stede knows he’s right. But he’s never told more than one person at a time before—hell, he’s never told more than one person period. And never somebody who isn’t sort of like him.

“I just—” He takes a long, heavy breath and leans into Ed’s side, head tucked on his shoulder. “They’re practically my family, Ed. I don’t wanna lose them. Or—or have them look at me like I’m an alien.”

“Hey, aliens are fucking cool.”

“You know what I mean. I don’t want them to look at me differently. Other than—you know. The obvious stuff.”

“I know,” Ed murmurs. “And I can’t promise they won’t be a little…surprised, at first. But it’s not because of us, yeah? It’s just a lot to take in. And they’re all so fucking weird, I’m sure they’ll be used to us in ten minutes flat.”

“I hope so.” Stede touches his foot to Ed’s, marveling for the millionth time that their bodies can be so different and yet create something so similar to walk on land. “I hope so.”

Read on ao3! (ch1 up now, ch2 up by around april 28)

[merrock]

HAPPY MAY !

It's not longer gonna be may... it is! I always think of May as the sort of 'kick off' to summer. You're maybe not there yet, but you're getting so close that you can almost taste it! Soon we'll have beach parties and be swimming in the public pool, be grilling with our friends, wearing short shorts and tank tops, but for now, let's go over all of the exciting things that are happening in Merrock in May, shall we?

Hop under the cut and read through, please! xx

ON THE CALENDAR !

MAY 5 -- CINCO DE MAYO / join us at Paco's for good food & demonstrations on how to make it!

MAY 10 -- CLEAN YOUR ROOM DAY / clean up those rooms and donate stuff you don't want anymore!

MAY 12 -- MOTHER'S DAY !!!

MAY 17 -- ENDANGERED SPECIES DAY / learn about Maine's endangered species and how to help them!

MAY 19 -- BAKE OFF !!!

MAY 20 -- WORLD BEE DAY / educate yourself on the importance of bees, buy local honey, start a pollinator garden!

MAY 21 -- INTERNATIONAL TEA DAY / head to What's the Tea to pick up your favorites, or try a new blend!

MAY 25 -- NATIONAL WINE DAY / get out with the girlfriends or your significant other and try some wine!

MAY 27 -- MEMORIAL DAY / with school and big businesses closed, have a picnic, or attend the memorial ceremony.

IMPORTANT STUFF !

as usual, brush up on our rules -- we have amended the activity rules to include what we mentioned in the activity check this past week. your two required replies per week must be to two different characters, to avoid bubbling. we will continue to check that you are replying to two different writers every other week.

we'd love to see our OOC utilized a bit more for plotting / threading and group-related things. it's okay to make vent posts / say you're busy/not around! but we don't want people to be discouraged from posting "hey, anyone wanna thread something fun?" or talking about IC/group things just as often.

please, please, please put priority into replying to open starters. we don't want anyone to feel left out or ignored (or not make any starters in the future!) if their starter sits with low notes while people are online and active around them. open starters, even with caps, are a great way to generate connections!

be fair with activity. I know that I say this a lot, but everyone here relies on each other to be able to be active. to you, it might not seem like a big deal, to someone else, it could be the difference between them being able to be active or not! try to work in order when you can, and balance all of your characters. (as a side note, I am always, always willing to help with advice on this!)

take the time today and go over our follow list -- unfollow any and all blogs that are not related to Merrock any longer, and please be sure you are following everyone that is. thank you!

GOALS FOR MAY !

Honestly, we just have one big goal for May, and this goes across the board for everyone: build up that community feeling of the group front and center through involvement, participation & kindness. When we have events in town, please consider getting involved! Jump in on tasks or fun things if you have the time, or even if you don't: we promise, it doesn't hurt to click the heart and show others a little appreciation! It's nice sometimes, to support one another. Put priority into replying to open starters, reach out to plot with those you haven't yet (or if it's been a while). Comment on OOC posts, or as we said above, use the OOC blog to get plots and threads going. It's summer (ish!), let's get our vibes going in the sunny direction.

HAVE A GREAT MAY !

[adultjazz]

NO SENTRY

TRACK BY TRACK #1

this post is about No Sentry, track 9

we love tim’s trombone loop,  the jarring note switch and the way a kind of slower melody gets threaded through that, we listened to the variations for hours and hours in a now defunct studio near carisbrooke castle. it always had ballad energy for us, so when @hepostsclouds sent over the glorious strings and it drew out a kind of latent lament quality, we knew it had what it needed 

when experimenting with the autotune early on i liked the clunky and slightly dopey sound that the subtle formant shift gave the voice 

i started thinking of kind of lumbering creatures, oafs with arrows in them, sad + slain dumbasses maybe 

I made some homemade latex prosthetics  to help scope him out 

i think the special animal figure was born maybe as a relief from the idea of us as solely pernicious and other leech/parasite/sadist metaphors 

which we understandably resort to when talking about human harm ecosystems

maybe this allowed for more sympathy and absurdity, or pathos and tragedy ?

the idea of a god figure instructing a flower to withhold bloom, or a raincloud not to provide release long into the future, further than us as the fossil record as a kind of mourning

i don’t think the planet is a god or even that god is necessarily a god - but maybe there is a kind of cosmic regret held somewhere about all this

that’s what i suddenly feel without warning at least

MadMax cliche is hard to avoid when talking about an uninhabitable planet. its hard not to imagine extreme dry and extreme cold or hot and wet and the extremes of everything, dead soil. but an uninhabitable world like that is another invitation to dominate, terraform and problem solve. i just know we can’t, won’t refuse the offer. 

i imagine all the technology needed to cling, and i also hope for it, but also hope for a concurrent shift that allows for other ways of being - imagine having to invent stuff forever, better to slip off gracefully no? let the worms have it

with the abrahamic notion of us as stewards/namers/custodians/sentries, it means that, when we are extinct, stuff is reduced to its semantically blank constituent parts

east is north, doesn’t matter 

just a slab of stuff, granite, ice, miles of it, no story, stop all geomancing, stop narration, stop narrative, pop words empty

the sound that matched it was like a balloon deflating was the eeeeeeeeeee you hear a couple of times in the record  - felt better than oooh or ahhh, less mannered and sadder i think

anyway i am trying to be hopeful about it - these are thought experiments to reach a more sustainable pattern of living alongside other species and things 

i always loved nature scientifically and mechanically and aesthetically but had been allergic to fanciful extrapolation about any inner worlds or sentience beyond human meaning- for animals it felt anthropomorphising, and for the planet it felt too mother nature-y - but i also think it was a way of not facing up to harm done

but i can’t really be allergic anymore, acknowledging a deeper life in these systems seems to be the only hopeful avenue and being fanciful is a low price to pay 

so maybe a story is needed , but maybe we first need to face the blank terror of no story to prompt the better retelling 

for our listening party i put the lyrics over a video of a locust i saved from a swimming pool

it preened with its forelegs and looked like it was trying to plead with me to me, maybe for safety maybe for extermination

it died anyway, it was too far gone

[lunarcovehq]

We're the new romantics... heartbreak is the national anthem, we sing it proudly. We are too busy dancing to get knocked off our feet.

SWEET HEARTS WEEK - VALENTINES DAY EVENT

For the residents who were here last year, it may be hard not to take note of the crisp chill in the air or the way the temperature seemed to drop overnight. Last year, V-Day was a horrifying reminder of how safety, for anyone outside of Lunar Cove or within, was not guaranteed. But, this year, marks a glimmer of hope. It's a time of new beginnings.

The protective barrier around Lunar Cove once again needs to be reinforced. But, to kick off the newly rebranded as Sweet Hearts Week (formerly known as 'Single's Week'), your leaders have decided to band together and show their support. Rather than have the Fae Court and Coven work to restore the magic of the barrier while the rest of the town celebrates, the barrier restoration will be a town wide effort. While the fae and witches pool their magic together, the werewolf and vampires will parole the border acting as guards to prevent any intruders from sneaking in. Meanwhile, back in town, the humans will be in charge of gathering supplies, passing out refreshments to make sure no magic user faints under the toll the barrier can take to reinforce, acting as medics and making sure every resident is wearing a protective charm to prevent any other spells from taking over residents.

Once the barrier is safety back up, the true celebration begins! Sweet Hearts Week is offering a number of fun activities around town where residents can enjoy themselves. From ice skating to a potentially traumatizing game of paint ball, Sweet Hearts Week has something for everyone of every species and is a chance for the town to come together and embrace what makes each and every resident unique.

REMINDERS

This is a character-driven event starts today and spans from 2/12-2/18 in character, though the event will run from 2/14-3/3 out of character.

Please keep your eyes out for multiple plot drops that will be happening throughout the week which your characters can continually react to.

The tag for the event is lunarcoveevent10. Everything from pictures, outfits & threads etc. should be under this tag. Starters should have both the starter and event tag. 

This event is totally optional, we just wanted to give you some starter ideas/fun activities your characters can participate in for February/for the start of March.

For anyone looking to bring in new characters, we will continue to have regular acceptances throughout the event. 

Feel free to react to or post starters for any of the below in whichever order you would like.

Last, but not least, we hope you have fun!

ACTIVITIES

Lock & Key - The fan favorite event is back- unlock your heart and stomach down at Joe’s Pasta & Pizzeria! Each participant will be paired by Joe himself. Half will be given a key and the other half a lock. Once you find your pairing, you and your partner will be given a romantic candlelit dinner to share a pizza your heart. Disclaimer: There are no discounts for entry.

Love, Laughter, and Latte - Have you ever seen someone cute at a café, but were too nervous to say hello? Have you ever found yourself people watching while you wait for your coffee and wonder how the people on the table in the corner all know each other? Well, this year, the Daily Drip will be hosting a Secret Message party all week long. If you're getting a bite to eat and a cup of coffee for here, your table can write secret messages or conversation starters on slips of paper for one of the employees to pass along to a person of your choice anonymously. The person can then write back and you can have a full conversation via notes, only to get to chose whether you want to reveal your identity or not before you leave. Planning to take a cup of coffee to go? The Daily Drip is also accepting call secret messages that they will write out on the sleeve of your intended's cup (and if the person of your choice doesn't swing by the coffee shop all week, they'll deliver it to your intended's door. You can even customize the foam design & include pastries with your order).

Sweethearts and Sweet Tarts Galentine’s Day Brunch - During your lunch break, swing by Rose Tinted to enjoy an instagram worthy Thirsty-Thursday brunch with bottomless mimosas and 90′s Girl Band playlist running on repeat.

Be Mine or Wine Tasting- Swing by Ambrosia for charcuterie and wine tasting. This event is Black Tie attire and will have a menu tailored for each guest from a number of different cheeses, chocolate-themed dishes and beverages. Reservations only. They won’t accommodate any walk-ins. 

Break-Up Bar & Exhibit- For any newly singles out there who aren’t ready to get into something new just yet, swing by the Break-Up Bar & Exhibit at Art in Motion. Enjoy a wide variety of comfort foods, settle into one of the many bean bag chairs set up in the exhibit and watch classic break-up scenes in movies. There is even a Wall of Broken Relationships set up along the back of the exhibit where you can add a memento of a relationship you are grieving or are moving on from.

Kiss & Tell Kissing Booth Mixer - Swing by the Starlight Bar for half-off cocktails if you visit the Kissing booth. Donate a dollar to get a smooch from the town’s most eligible bachelor and bachelorette volunteers at the Kissing Booth. All proceeds from the night go towards cleaning up the Cove’s beaches.

The Polar Plunge- With a fresh layer of snow on the ground and a chill in the air, this is the perfect excuse to take part in the town’s annual Polar Plunge hosted by the Wolf Den. Get some Valentine's themed cocktails and or shots in you, provided by Bad Moon Brewery, before stripping down into your underwear and taking a dip into the sound.

Decades of Love- Don't miss the decades themed pop-ups all over town where you can go on a date in 'the past'. Swing by Hero Comics to be transported back into the 90s, Roller Rocket will be 80's, Broken Records will be all things 70's, Victory Lane for the 60's, Peggy's Diner for the 50's, High Tide for the 40's, the Stingray Boathouse for the 30s, Cabaret for the 20's and New Leaf Bookstore for the 10's. Each establishment will come equipped with decade themed cocktails, food and historical costumes are required upon entry (though if you don't have an outfit that fits the decade, clothes can be provided for you by Blush Boutique as long as they are returned on your way out).

Wanna Dance with Somebody Soiree- Get ready to dance the night away! Swing by Follow My Lead for dance classes where you can learn a number of different styles of dance as a couple. If you already are in a relationship, make it a date night and, if you're single, it's time to mingle! Follow My Lead will pair you with a dance partner per song so you can have a chance to meet some of your fellow neighbors you might not have bumped hips with just yet.

Cupid's Getaway- The Hideaway is bringing your big romantic gestures to life. Teaming up with other establishments around town, the Hideaway will transform any establishment around town for two hours into a private venue of your choice. If you want to have the library to yourselves for a date, the hideaway will make it happen. What to have a private spa day for the girls, the Hideaway will turn your Galentines' fantasies into a reality. But, just remember, once your time slot is up you must vacate the premise as its time for your carriage to transform back into a pumpkin and the staff will take apart the decorations around you if need be.

Love Sucks - If Valentine's Day isn't your thing, swing by the Country Club for an Anti-Valentine's Day Birthday Bash celebrating none other than Meena Raja's birthday. The dress code is all black though you are encouraged to dress in full black-tie or wear as many or little clothes as possible. This is a night of debauchery and fun with heated pools, hot tubs, gambling tables, a chocolate fountain and endless champagne. All are invited (whether you are a member of the Country Club or not) except for J.C. Carvalho who has been banned from the Country Club and will be escorted from the premises on sight.

Don't Burst Our Bubbl.- Bubbl. will be open all week offering blankets to bundle up in where you can sit around the fire, roast smores, indulge in all you can eat chocolate desserts and pastries and watch the snow fall overhead.

Love on the Horizon- Swing by Pier Pressure for arcade games and fun. You can win a friend or loved one a stuffed animal, ride the Tunnel of Love, or meet at the top of the Ferris Wheel to take in the views of Lunar Cove from up above. Legend has it that whoever you end up with at top of the Ferris Wheel will change your life for better or for worse.

Melt Your Frozen Heart- Join Broken Records at the Ice Skating Rink to be able to skate to your hearts content to your favorite tunes.

Cupid vs. Frosty- Swing by the Beach to partake in the Snowman Building Contest. Best snow creation will walk away with all you can eat Ice Cream from Happy Scoops.

ACTIVITIES TO COME

Painted Love- Plot Drop to Come.

Snow on the Beach- Plot Drop to Come.

[mountphoenixrp]

Come one, come all! From the woods of Greece, a circus trope comes to the city bearing festivities in the name of Dionysus!

On the weekend of March 16 & 17, a troupe of nymphs will host Fates of Fancy, a circus performance thematically centered around the Moirai! The festival will be held in the open space of the Phoenix University campus and will host a large heated tent for both matinee and evening performances. 

(Please see below the cut for further details!)

While the tent appears large outside, the inside expands even further through a magical spell. Mirroring most circus layouts, the audience circles the middle of the tent. Marble columns wrapped in vines hold the massive tent up. Vines travel all throughout the facility, creating chairs for the audience, rails to travel down the wooden steps, and a barrier between the audience and performers. Grass covers the inner circle, and the different ropes consist of three different types of vines, dependent on which fate the storytelling troupe focused on: leafless for Klotho, flowering for Lakhesis, and wilting for Atropos. The story follows a hero in pursuit of his lover, and in each phase the troupe shows the guiding hand of the Moirai to both the benefit and detriment of the star-crossed duo. With aerialists, clowns, acrobatics, and magic, the performers will keep residents on the edge of their chairs!

But don’t stop there! Additionally, the large main tent will be surrounded by medium-sized, heated tents that provided a variety of entertainment:

Mythical Wonders: In a tent sealed with magic to prevent creatures from coming loose, a strong nymph and no-nonsense centaur manages and oversee a zoo with tamed mythical creatures, including: unicorn/Pegasus, griffin, phoenix, minotaur, Stymphalian birds, and more! The Dining Hall: Once residents enter the tent, they will see seven different food stalls surrounding a large picnic area. The troupe wanted to celebrate the cultures of the different pantheons around Mount phoenix. A stall represents each pantheon, hosting a variety of carnival and festival foods specific to that pantheon.  Sweet Inebriation: While some alcoholic beverages may be served in the dining tent, it would not be a festivity without some of Dionysus’s finest wines! In the energy of partying, drunkenness, and freedom, a band of satyrs perform loud, intoxicating music. If that doesn’t help you unwind, the tables full of overflowing kylikes with Dionysus’s best wine will open your inner dancer! Fated Sight: A change from the wild parties in the other tent, this tent hosts a more quiet and mysterious energy. Behind a variety of curtained stalls, nymphs blessed with skills in divination await you to tell you what the future stores. Come with a friend, your lover, or by yourself, there is definitely much to learn.  Heavenly Reprieve: Only accessible to the gods, the tent serves to give deities a chance for relaxation, away from the presence of demigods. After entering the tent, passing small changing areas for those who need it, the gods will enter a marble bathhouse surrounded by large statues of various Greek gods holding vases that are pouring heavenly scented water into the heated pools. Along the edges of the bathhouse, plenty plates of ambrosia and wine glasses full of Dionysus's best, ready to be consumed.

The event will run from March 16-23 OOC, so please be sure to start your threads or other IC interactions within that time (although you can finish them up at your leisure). Please tag all event posts with "mp; fates of fancy". We hope you enjoy this event!

[that-one-random-writer]

Chasing you Chapter 9 {Complete}

Summary: Jake retires from the military honorably. He steps into a new roll, ready to settle down in his hometown of Texas. He is placed on your shift. Your current relationship is stable until the dust settles, revealing cracks in the foundation.

Warning-police work it gets gory at times and horrible so be aware 18+ smut eventually.

Chapter1. Next chapter. Masterlist

The house was cold, and there was nothing left of this home. The walls had happy photos of times before your diagnosis. You looked at all the memories of Disneyland trips, vacations to beaches. You looked at the next photo, you were in a doctors room. James kissing your forehead. You watched james' smile slowly drop through treatment photos.

There it was, you held the bell, the ringing sounded, people clapping, you could hear it. You had been listed in full remission, and James' face had a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Glass shattered across the floor. You grabbed another frame, throwing it across the room. You ran to the bedroom packing your things. You filled your car with everything you own. Each box solidified the fact that this relationship was over. You grabbed your keys, and you took off the home key off the key ring. You made sure everything was in your car. You laid the last picture down next to a note.

'I'm leaving. You're no longer the person I fell in love with.'

You owed him no other explanation, you didn't tell him where you went it didn't matter. You were free. You locked the house leaving the key under the mat. You didn't want to deal with men for a while. You didn't want to live through this back and forth push and pull of men. You wanted time to yourself with your bestfriend.

"Ken..." You trailed through the phone.

He was sitting in his living room. "Yes?"

"I dont, I don't have anywhere to go." You spoke softly. I'm not quite able to get the sentence out right.

"Did you... is he gone?" Kennedy's jaw slacked in shock.

"Yeah. I packed everything this morning." You were numb. You lost feeling everywhere.

"Get your fine, single ass over here... is exactly what Seresin is going to say when you call him."

"Ken, I'm really not in the mood. I just packed my entire house. Can I stay with you?"

"Um... can we finally talk about how hot the pool party was and have a drink? Hold on, I gotta make a call. Come over, we will sleep and then have a loser got lost party just me and you." Kennedy hung up the phone.

"Seresin, I don't have much time, man. Monroe, she's done with him. Give her some time. She's coming to my place. Just call me your certified wingman."

"Yeah, a damn good one, too." Jake laid back in his tub. The phone call ended.

"It has been a week, Marilyn." Kennedy sits beside you on the couch. He wraps his arm around you like he has every night since the breakup. He held you close. "Look, this is hard, I know, but you have to start healing. You have cried every day. I need you to get up from this couch. Honey, look at me." Kennedy placed a hand on your cheek. "You are incredible. You never deserved the way he treated you. Can you please for me try to get out of this? I'm tired of watching you slowly drown." He kissed your temple and stood up. "We're going out. You're ready for it."

"No, I'm not ready." Your voice never lifts from a whisper. The pain is excruciating. You broke up with a man you were still in love with. It is a very strange circumstance. Just because you are in love doesn't mean you're happy. You saw it, Ken saw it. The entire shift saw the relationship crumble, holding on to a single thread in a sea that is no longer filled with smiles and bonding. You were drowning. You knew it, everyone did. The hardest thing to admit is that no matter how hard you tried, you could never make the wrong person the right person for you.

"Get your ass up now. Go get a shower and get a hot outfit on we're going out whether you like it or not." Kennedy leads you to the bedroom and leaves allowing you privacy. You grab the first outfit you see and get in the shower, the water feeling so familiar to your cheeks, feeling like the many warm tears spilling over.

You get dressed and walk out to the living room.

"Hey Adam Sandler, I said, going out, not to the gym." Kennedy lifted a brow at your clothes. "Go change."

Your eyes fell the ground. "It's all packed in my car still."

"Hey, you know what..." He trailed and walked to his closet. "You are the same size as my sister." He grabbed a little black and beige dress and a pair of beige platform thigh-high boots.

"I know she wouldn't mind if you borrowed her freakem dress." You kept your face in a straight look as he held up the items. He raised his brow. "Babe... party?" He swung the items in front of you.

Your face broke. A smile is finally fresh on your face. "You know I love a party."

Ken opened your door for you. You stepped out at Ultra, the local bar.

The music vibrated through to the outside air. The music got louder as you passed the threshold. Kennedy ordered for you. He brought you a drink, and you both sat down at a booth. The lights were dim. The people around all happy faces, it was infectious. Your lips naturally fell into a smile. Ken checked his phone and laid it face down on the table.

"Okay, so you never told me what happened about the speaker in the kitchen..." Kennedy said, taking a sip.

"It was nothing. Just some flirting." Your cheeks glazed with a blush.

"Shirt thrown across the room? That's a little more than just flirting. I saw the way he was looking at you in the pool." Ken checked his phone again.

"Okay, I was drunk. we didn't kiss. He just did the thing you know. The thing..." You gave him the look.

"The leaning against the wall gets just close enough to leave you weak in the knees. Oh, I know the thing. Read it in my romance novels, which saved my closeted ass a few times in high school. Got girls talking about how hot I was, and it rumored that I was sleeping with girls without me having to sleep with girls." Kennedy sipped his drink speaking only loud enough for you to hear.

"Yup, that thing. The morning we left work I fucking daydreamed about that shit. I was a mess. I just couldnt be with James when I couldnt get this other man out of my mind and after everything that happened, I just flipped out. I started breaking picture frames, packing and just left. Its like I had been waiting for the right time to leave and it never came. I finally looked back and said why the fuck am I here." You finally opened up to Kennedy.

"Yeah and now you've got hot ass Seresin on speed dial. Call him and go to him. Be free my little bird." Kennedy smiled ecstatic that you were finally away from James.

"I don't want to rush. I don't really know him. I know how gorgeous his body is and how his eyes they just..." you paused groaning.

"Babe, 9 o clock." Kennedy smirked. He put his phone back down he had already sent where you both were sitting to Seresin, unknown to you of course.

You sipped your drink looking around the room in the direction he just mentioned. There he was walking in, Jake seresin. His hand slipped to his aviators pulling them off slipping them in his collar with ease. Your eyes locked with his, the room slowed around you. You haven't seen him since the breakup. You took time off work, you had almost forgot the power this man held. The way women looked at him swooning, men sizing him up next to their girlfriends, the room seemed to be his. "Monroe, as I live and breath."

His hand rested on the table as he leaned down. "We've missed you... I've missed you." He sat down next to you.

The room got smaller as he rested his arm over the booth behind your shoulder. You were happy to see him, as much as you wanted to take your time, his body and presence in a room were tempting.

A man you've never seen before walked behind him and sat down next to Kennedy.

"Kennedy, this is Tyler Kraft. He is one of my military buddies. His call sign was cheese. That's what all of us called him." Seresin chuckled and smirked at Kennedy.

"I told him you had a pool." His voice changing like there was more that you didn't know between those harmless words.

"We can all have a few drinks, and if you're down for a party, we can all head back to your place. I'll supply the drinks if you supply the pool."

Kennedy's eyes widened just enough for you to notice. "Y-yeah that's fine." He was caught off guard with a plan change. A plan you had no idea about.

"It's nice to meet you tyler. I'm Monroe. I work with these too." You smiled politely. A new face intrigued you.

"Cop too? I hope you two are giving hangman hell for us." He flashed a smile that held a jewel attached to his tooth.

You giggled politely. The tooth jewel gave you an idea of what was going on, something about the way Kennedy was acting told you he had no idea what was going on.

"Hangman?" You paused, looking up at Seresin. "I'm about to now... with a name like that. " You laughed, looking over at Tyler.

You directed your attention back to Seresin. "You want to go with me to get our first round hangman?"

"Yeah. Good idea." He nodded, offering his hand.

You stood up without his help walking to the bar. You were shield from the pair you left at the table by a sea of people. "Jake, who is that?" You said between gritted teeth protection of your friend boiling in your blood.

"He's a friend of mine. I figured I'd introduce him to Kennedy." Seresin smirked, pride filling his voice in more ways then one.

"Why?" It seethed through your lips.

"Because a closet is lonely. I'm not going to say anything to anyone at work. If I was going to I would have called him out at the pool party." He said quietly leaning to whisper in your ear.

"How long have you known?" Your shoulders softened feeling a little trust seep in.

"I was suspicious the whole time, but the pool party confirmed it. He doesn't know that I know... until now, I guess." He shrugged his shoulders.

Realization set in that he set them up on a date. "They can't be in public on a date... Jake you're an idiot." You quietly yelled.

"OK calm down. I already gave Tyler the run down, and that's why I suggested we go back to his house for a pool party. Have a little faith. I got this. Now what do you want to drink? I'm buying for you tonight."

"Pineapple upside-down and a shot of tequila." You didn't even worry about fighting him on the payment of a drink. You stood on the foot rest of a nearby bar stool.

"What are you doing?" Seresin asked. His brows stitched together.

You saw the way Kennedy was sitting facing Tyler. His body language was very clearly a sign of interest. "Checking on him. They look happy." You smiled looking down at Seresin.

He grabbed your waist and helped you down back to the ground. His hand lingered on the small of your back. "I told you. Now stop worrying and have fun. You deserve it." He grabbed the drinks and you grabbed the ones for tyler and Ken.

All worrying had been swept away. You mind completely cleared of James, and your friend from being outed. You looked at Seresin in a new light. He was protecting your best friend and giving him something he desperately wanted.

A/N tumblr ate my post so we're trying this again!

@emorychase

@emma8895eb

@deaddumblbumble

@wade-wilsons-chew-toy

[bratdesire]

Your Dad, My Daddy

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader

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

Genre: Smut, just so much smut

Word count: 9.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not that you care. You just want to cum.

“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re… You have…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that is how your little arrangement begins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

From: Tomie <3

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

[ptergwen]

heyy!! i love your writing!! can you do a one shot where peter loves giving y/n hickies and she’s at a pool party with the rest of the avengers? and she takes her bathing suit of and everyone starts teasing her about them ? while peter is just smirking about it ? thank you!!

trouble in paradise

w/c: 2.8k

warnings: lots of suggestiveness, swearing, and mentions of drinking

a/n: i was super into this and wrote way more than i planned to but i hope that’s cool :,) enjoy !

-

“peter, we have to go,” you giggle out, cupping a hand over your boyfriend’s mouth. “everybody’s waiting for us... what if they get suspicious?” peter playfully nips at your fingers before intertwining them with his own. “don’t know, don’t care,” he mumbles and pecks a spot on your jaw.

his lips attach to your neck next, kissing slowly and lightly down your skin. each one tingles in the best way possible. he’s always so good at this, all movements thought out, done with care. he’s a little too good.

if you don’t leave now, you’ll spend the whole afternoon locked in peter’s room with him on top of you. not that that isn’t a dream come true, but you bought a cute bikini for your pool day with the team and want to make use of it.

it’s actually what inspired peter to pin you down and kiss every visible inch of your body. one look at you in the thing, and he was done for.

“by the way,” peter’s voice comes out raspy. the vibrations tickle you, making you bite back a smile. “yellow looks really nice on you, baby. you pull it off perfect.” his free hand sets on your exposed stomach, just above your hip. “yeah?” you gaze up at peter innocently. “i thought you’d like it.”

you’re in a yellow and white striped two piece that leaves little to the imagination. the bottoms are tied on either side, strings revealing more than they hide. the top plunges low and pushes up, which is the right combination to drive peter crazy.

although, you could’ve worn baggy swim trunks and had the same effect. he’s easy.

“you got this just for me?” peter smirks at the idea, peppering your neck in more kisses. “adorable, y/n.” you raise a challenging eyebrow. “that’s it? adorable?” your leg winds around peter’s waist to draw him in closer. “i’m much more than adorable, and you know it.”

his hand leaves yours and moves to your thigh. he trails his fingers up and down your skin, the simple touch leaving goosebumps.

peter gives your thigh a small squeeze, his nose nudging the tip of yours. “prove it, then.” you’re positive he can feel your heart beating through the thin material of his nasa t-shirt. your worries about missing the pool day have long faded away.

you capture peter’s lips in a kiss that he instantly reciprocates. he grins into it, letting you take control. laughing breathlessly at his eagerness, you thread your fingers in his chocolate curls. you tug gently on them and tilt your head up to deepen the kiss. you continue playing with peter’s hair as you nibble on his lower lip.

god, it gets him going when you do that.

“hm, i love you,” peter sighs, both arms hooking around your middle. “love you so much, princess.” that earns a lighthearted eye roll from you. “i love you, pete. kinda ruining the mood, though.” he apologizes with a chuckle and a peck at your lips. “oops. i was doing so well, too.” beaming up at him, you stroke his curls in reassurance. “who said you stopped?”

peter takes that as his cue to indulge you in another kiss. he parts his swollen lips, your tongue running over his bottom one. you let out a hum when his tongue enters your mouth instead. arching your back so your body presses against his, you begin to guide his hands towards your hips.

much to your dismay, peter suddenly breaks the kiss.

you whine and pull at his locks to get his attention. “what are you-“ “shhhh,” peter cuts you off, lips latching onto your neck again. that makes you oblige. sucking with just the right amount of pressure on your skin, his nimble fingers hook in your bottoms.

“let me know if this is okay,” he prefaces, meeting your hooded eyes for permission to untie the strings. “yeah, pete. you’re… you’re good. do it.” you throw your head back on the pillow. you’re enjoying his marking of your neck, too caught up to consider the inevitable bruising.

there’s something about littering you in hickeys that peter can’t get enough of. maybe it’s the little noises he coaxes from you, or how you say his name. whatever it is, he’s obsessed. you’re both well aware of that.

peter makes his way down your body, his kisses doing the same, until he’s facing your chest. he licks his lips as he looks you over. you could melt under his gaze.

“you’re right, y/n. you aren’t just adorable,” he speaks softly. “you’re so beautiful. like, insanely beautiful.” you leave a kiss on the top of peter’s head in response, smiling when he resumes his own kissing. he goes farther this time, your breath hitching as he stops just above your cleavage. his thumb swipes across your inner thigh.

“pete, baby…” you cup his cheeks with your hands, impatient. “please. want you so bad.” peter glances up at you, a cocky grin spreading across his features. “i got you, princess. relax a bit.” he’s impossible. groaning, you push his shoulders. “i hate it when you tease.” he grabs your hips to steady you. “i’m not teasing… i’m taking my time. you deserve it.”

before you can complain, his lips land on your stomach. he peppers kisses down carefully and simultaneously starts to fiddle with your bikini. finally. you exhale a breath of relief, but he only undoes one string.

“you’re fucking kidding,” you grumble, peter frowning against you. “can i not just appreciate you for a while?” he rhetorically asks. he’s nearing where you need him most, so you hold your tongue. peter keeps you in place by your waist while his lips ghost on one of your hips. your body is on fire at this point, his breath cool on you.

“alright, you’ve waited long enough,” peter decides, shifting to untie your other bikini string. “what i’ve been saying,” you immediately agree.

when he finishes with your bottoms, he doesn’t take them off just yet. his fingertips brush along each of your sides as he peers up at you. chills break out all over your skin.

“peter benjamin parker, i swear to god-“ your words are replaced with a gasp, peter’s mouth now on your inner thigh. his teeth sink into you ever so slightly, lips curving into a smile at your whimpering. “what was that, y/l/n?” he kisses back up to your hip. “nothing… never mind,” you dismiss him. your eyes flutter closed.

“mhm, good girl,” peter murmurs, now marking up the soft skin below your waist. he grins to himself when your hands once again situate in his hair. “babe…” you pant, his tongue poking out to soothe a fresh hickey. “take them off, please.” your eyes are desperate as they lock with peter’s, spreading your legs out for him.

“what, these?” peter hums, dragging his fingers down your stomach. they slip inside either side of your bottoms. “shit, yes,” you affirm with a yank at his curls.

peter pauses for a moment, then moves off of you completely. he stays between your legs, another smirk painting his face.

“everyone’s waiting for us, remember?” he sarcastically reminds you. “kinda rude to leave them hanging.” you hoist yourself off peter’s bed in anger, shoving your discarded coverup shirt from earlier at his chest. “you fucking tease! i should’ve known you were gonna do this shit.”

peter swings his legs over the bed, wiping his lips that still hold a smirk. “aw… c’mere, baby,” he coos and pats his lap. “i’m not done yet. let me help you out for real.”

you consider the offer, eyes flitting between his skilled hands and inviting mouth. you’ve got nothing to lose, only gain.

“fine,” you pretend to be annoyed. peter opens his arms for you, which you easily crawl into. your legs are on either side of him as you grab onto his shoulders. you watch him in anticipation. he kisses your chin lovingly, his hands finding their place on your hips.

however, it’s not for the reason you’re expecting. peter ties up your bikini how you had it before, rubbing your thighs once he’s done.

technically, he did help you out.

“there. let’s hit the pool, hm?” he picks up your coverup from beside him and holds it out to you. you’re going to absolutely murder him later. “swim alone, parker,” you huff, snatching the oversized tee from him. his eyes widen. “hey, you were the one who-“ “swim alone!” you climb off his lap and toss your shirt over your head.

peter doesn’t want to push it, so he lets you head out of his room. you of course flip him off as you make your exit. he waits until you’re outside to join the rest of the team, shirtless with his shorts hanging dangerously low.

you’re splayed out on a lounge chair between wanda and natasha, applying sunscreen to your face. bruce and thor are having a splashing contest in the pool, tony is fixing drinks, and scott is searching for blow up toys. sam, bucky, and vision choose to observe everyone from a table under an umbrella.

you scowl at peter on the other side of the pool. he strikes up a conversation with sam and bucky, shooting you a wink that you scoff at.

“trouble in paradise?” natasha observes. she squints between you and peter over her sunglasses. “kind of.” you pat the sunscreen into your cheeks with a nod. “uh oh, what’d he do this time?” wanda knowingly chimes in. “it’s not what he did… it’s what he didn’t do,” you admit.

peter rakes a hand through his messy curls, looking over at you.

tease.

natasha lays back on her chair, unbothered. “you’re gonna have to elaborate on that, y/l/n.” wanda nudges your side. “we’ve all been there! men are nasty.” you simply shrug. that’s one way to put it. “what does that make vision?” natasha jokes, wanda confidently replying, “a synthezoid.” “whatever that is,” she mutters to you, taking the sunscreen bottle from your lap.

peter starts coming your way after receiving a pat on the back from bucky and a shoulder clap from sam. he sports a harmless smile now, waving at scott as he approaches you.

you reluctantly get up from the comfortable position you’re in. “i’ll be right back,” you inform nat and wanda, fixing your coverup as you stand. “take your time,” natasha muses. “put him in his place,” wanda suggests.

with their advice in mind, you meet peter in a shaded area away from the team. you fight back the urge to gulp when his chiseled abs come into view.

“you’re not actually mad at me, right?” peter checks, scratching the back of his neck. there’s your boy, shy as ever. the many sides of him never cease to amaze you. “i might be,” you coyly answer. “how come? did i hurt you or something?” he steps closer to you and hugs your waist.

you’d accuse him of playing dumb, but he’s genuinely oblivious.

you place your hands on either of his biceps, despite your frustration. “on the inside.” “meaning?” peter wonders. “i… i wanted you to…” you’re not sure how to phrase it. “make me feel good, you know?” he pouts at your confession. “i thought that’s what i was doing.”

“no, you were. what i meant was, i didn’t want you to stop,” you reiterate, fingers smoothing over his skin. “you did, though.” peter catches on, laughing quietly and pulling you into a proper hug. “mm, sorry ‘bout that.” he bends to kiss your forehead, your arms around his neck. “i’ll make it better, pretty girl. wanna join me for a shower later?”

“it’s a date,” you confirm, pecking peter’s lips. he wiggles his eyebrows. “how romantic.” you flick the side of his head with a giggle. “save it for later. right now, let’s swim.”

peter follows you by his hand you grab in yours, his eyes twinkling. he lets you lead him over to the pool. you take a detour to change at your lounge chair, his mouth literally watering at the thought of seeing you in your bikini once again.

when you pull your shirt off, his jaw drops. that’s a bit dramatic, since this isn’t a new sight for him.

“um, y/n?” peter looks you up and down, handing you your coverup back. “you should probably-“ “relax, princess,” you repeat his words from earlier. “we all know i’m yours. a bikini won’t change that.” peter merely chuckles. “it’s not that,” he attempts to explain. “you can wear whatever you want! but-“

“there’s no problem, then,” you correct him, throwing the oversized shirt on the chair. “come on, weirdo.”

reconnecting both your hands, you head over to the pool with peter walking next to you. wanda and natasha whisper about something as you go.

you pass bruce as he skips over to tony’s juice bar. he slows down to say hi to you and peter.

“when did you kids get here?” he questions, elbowing peter. “not too long ago,” peter wraps his arms around your middle from behind. “we were just gonna go for a swim, so bye!” you exchange a look with bruce. “i sincerely apologize for his behavior.”

bruce is about to engage in your banter, then he notices. he points from your neck to your chest. “y/n… you have a little something, um…” he clears his throat when he realizes what the something is. “everywhere.”

in pure confusion, you cock your head to the side. “what are you talking about? did i miss some sunscreen?” peter chews on his lip to hold back a grin. “i’ll let pete tell you,” bruce awkwardly smiles. “see you lovebirds around.”

he gets out of there, and fast.

peter rests his chin on your head, you poking his bare stomach. “seriously, what was he talking about?” you demand. he breathes out a laugh as you turn around to face him. “right. so, i might’ve given you a few-“

“y/n! underoos!” tony calls, strutting up to you and peter with two glasses in hand. they each have fruit slices and swirly straws. “be my guinea pigs, will you? brucey boy won’t try my concoctions until someone else does.” he nods back at bruce, thrusting the drinks into each of your hands.

“do we have a choice?” you ask tony, swishing around the icy blend. “oh, live a little,” tony responds and taps peter’s glass. “drink up, kiddos. feedback to be announced.”

peter sips the orange drink, you mixing it around before sampling. it’s not half bad.

“well?” tony gives two thumbs up. “what do we think?” peter licks some sugar off the edge of the glass. “woah. it’s kinda awesome, mr. stark,” he praises. you push your hair off your shoulder nonchalantly. “i like it. there’s a kick to it, though.” tony clicks his tongue. “ah, that’s tequila.”

both you and peter almost spit the concoction out. “oh my god, tony!” you shove the half-full glass back into tony’s hand. “we’re not allowed to drink yet!” “i can keep a secret,” tony promises, collecting peter’s cup nevertheless.

your skin showing catches tony’s attention at last.

“good god! parker, are you seeing this? what on earth happened?” tony gestures to you in shock. peter isn’t able to fight back a smirk this time. “don’t worry, mr. stark. she’s alright.” audibly gagging, tony makes the connection. “well… you did quite the number, didn’t you? bye-bye, now!”

he leaves even more abruptly than bruce did, which piques your concern.

“ok, peter,” you start in a warning tone. “what’d you do to me? this is getting weird.”

“peter and y/n sitting in a tree!” sam and bucky chant from their table. “k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” they spell out. visions shields his face, mortified to be associated with them. “first comes love!” sam yells. “then comes marriage!” bucky shouts after. the two of them join in together again. “then comes baby in the baby carriage!”

“ok… don’t freak out, babe,” peter traces his hands along your sides to calm you. “so, i sort of-“ “here, y/n,” wanda appears behind you with a compact mirror. she smiles sheepishly as you take it from her.

terrified for what you’re about to see, you aim the mirror so it shows your neck. your mouth falls agape. there’s a huge hickey off to the side and a couple of tiny ones near your collarbone. you can only imagine what your hips look like.

you slam the mirror shut and set your gaze on peter, who finds this too amusing for your liking. you’re about five seconds away from destroying him, and not in the way he hopes for. wanda taps him on the shoulder to alert him.

“you better run.”



[levithestripper]

Bite Me, Bruise Me, Love Me, Abuse Me

masterlist

warnings: hickeys, bathroom sex, oral sex [m! receiving], praise kink, steve calls billy sir, choking, breath play, impact play [spanking], mirror sex, degradation/dirty talk, aftercare.

relationship: billy hargrove/steve harrington.

characters: billy hargrove, steve harrington, eddie munson, dustin henderson, mike wheeler, will byers.

length: 2.8k || read on ao3

⤷ if you want to be added to the taglist click here

summary: after a hot summer’s day, there is no better way to end it than getting together at steve’s house to jump in his pool. billy watches the golden evening sun wash over steve flawlessly, illuminating him like some kind of god. he can’t tell whether it’s the beer or something else, but all billy knows at that moment is that he needs steve all to himself.

a/n: these two have been living in my mind rent-free for the past two weeks and this is what became of it lmao. this is for days 14, 22, and 27 of kinktober! daddy/master kink, blowjob, and degrading/dirty talk.

Laughter rang throughout Steve’s backyard, accompanied by loud splashing and screeching from the pool. Beer cans and bowls of junky snack foods littered the pool deck; the group had gone through a concerning amount, which will only grow now that the afternoon is coming to a close.

Eddie, Dustin, Mike, and Will are all in the pool together, screaming about something nerdy while dunking each other. Eddie’s hair is up in a sloppy ponytail, failing at keeping his hair even slightly dry. Mike slicked his and Will’s hair back against their foreheads, looking god awful but proud of themselves anyway. Eddie’s portable radio blasted some heavy metal song Steve didn’t know the name to.

Steve sat near the edge, his legs kicking languidly in the water. His skin is warm to the touch, halfway between a nice tan and a bright pink sunburn. The evening sun shone beautifully over him, illuminating Steve’s deep brown eyes, making them look like they were pools of amber. Dozens of new freckles adorned Steve’s back and shoulders, clustered together to look like rainclouds. Billy had to fight everything to not break out a permanent marker and start playing connect the dots.

“What are you nerds yelling about, anyways?” Steve asks, hand coming up to block the sun from his eyes. Billy sat in a lawn chair directly behind him, manspreading to a point where Steve was effectively trapped between his legs. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Hellfire lets out a collective gasp, acting as if he claimed the sky was purple, and threatened to cut Eddie’s hair. “It doesn’t make any sense?!” Munson gawks, “What’s hard to understand about Will the Wise and his party of seasoned warriors who fight to save the souls of the innocent in the Kingdom of Mysia from an Annis Hag?!”

“The fact that I have no fucking clue of anything you just said proves my point,” Steve chuckles, taking a swig from his slightly warm beer.

“You’ll come around! They always do,” Eddie winks before turning away, returning to his sugar-rushed children.

Billy runs a hand through his curly hair, sitting up in his chair, bare chest barely brushing against the back of Steve’s hair. His hand subtly moves to the base of Steve’s neck, squeezing gently. “C’mon, Stevie, let’s go get more beers.” He tugs the hair on the back of his head, pulling him up and dragging Steve by the hand.

He staggers behind him, catching up before he gets too far away. “Billy, hold up, Jesus Christ,” Steve groans, “what’re you talking about? We already have a ton outside.” He threads his fingers with Billy’s, receiving a squeeze. Billy doesn’t answer him, entering the house and pulling Steve into the nearest bathroom.

He pushes him against the door, pinning his hands above his head by the wrist. Billy kisses him before Steve can get a word in edgewise, the kiss quickly growing desperate and needy. “Fuck, Stevie,” he groans, “you drive me fucking insane, baby.” Billy’s free hand roamed through Steve’s no-longer perfect hair, tugging on it again, drawing a low moan from him. Soon, he moves to hold the column of his neck, possessively keeping Steve still for him. “You have any fucking idea what you look like out there? Sitting at the edge of the pool so innocently, letting the sun pour over you, making you glow like a damn God,” his voice rumbles next to Steve’s ear, causing a shiver to run up the boy’s spine, a smirk spreading across Billy’s features.

“Honey—” Billy interrupts him with another kiss, effectively silencing whatever complaint Steve was bound to spout. Billy tilts his head to the side, nose pressing into Steve’s cheek as his tongue finds its way inside Steve’s mouth. Soft moans become more and more frequent from both of them, the air between them growing thick with desire. Steve manages to pull away in need of air. “Billy, honey,” he drawls, lust thick in his voice, “we don’t have time; they’ll come looking for us.” Big brown Bambi-like eyes meet crystal blue ones, leaving Billy to melt into a puddle.

“Let them find us, baby.” He kisses down Steve’s neck, sucking deep purple hickeys into his freckled skin. “Let me show you just how much I love you.” Steve’s face flushes, and he looks to a corner of the room, embarrassed. It doesn’t last long, Billy gripping his jaw tightly, his cheeks squishing together. “No, no, no, you’re not allowed to look away. Eyes on me, Stevie, you hear?”

Not trusting what filth may come out of his mouth, Steve nods.

Billy sighs, “No, no, I need to hear you say it. C’mon, pretty boy. Tell me you’ll be good for me.”

“I’ll be good—I’ll be good for you,” Steve stammers, the blush dusting his cheeks deepening. Billy’s smile is more of a smirk, but the grip on his jaw relaxes despite it. “Want you.” He grasps Billy’s hips, desperately tugging him closer, in need of everything he’s willing to give him.

Billy grinds his cock against Steve’s, reveling in the sweet moans he responds with. His hand leaves Steve’s jaw, trailing south to grab him through his swim trunks, finding him already fully hard. “Awww, Stevie,” he teases, his hand running lines up and down the imprint of his shaft. “You’re already this hard for me?”

He nods, pathetically rutting against his hand. “Mhmm,” he whimpers, returning Billy’s smoldering gaze with a desperate one of his own. “Billy, honey, please, stop teasing me!” Steve tugs at Billy’s hand, trying his best to slip it inside his trunks but failing.

“Aw, I thought you said you’d be good for me, sweetheart,” he coos, pulling his hand out from Steve’s grasp. “Thought you’d be a good boy for me.”

‘Good boy,’ echos in his head, making him feel soft and needier than he already was. “But I have been!” Steve fumbles over his words, his poor brain moving too fast for his mouth to keep up with.

Billy chuckles, fingers carding through his boyfriend’s hair soothingly. “Good boys know not to call me that, don’t they?” Steve nods, melting at the tingly sensation running through his hair and down the back of his neck. “What do you call me?”

Watching Billy’s full lips move as he talked proved too much for him to handle, leaning in for a kiss, which he got. “Mmh, I call you sir,” he groans. Not even a second after he responds, he kisses him again, and again, and again, rekindling the pace they were at before.

“That’s right, Stevie; good job.” Billy rucks up Steve’s shirt, hands spreading across his hairy chest. He pulls it up and over his head, tossing it into the sink carelessly. Steve reciprocates, making quick work of Billy’s belt and zipper, pushing the jeans down to his ankles.

Not long after, they were both naked, clothes forgotten about on the bathroom counter. Steve got down on his knees, hands running over the blond’s thick thighs. His big bambi-like eyes look up at Billy as he mouths at the tip of his already-hard cock. He’s thick and heavy on Steve’s tongue, skin salty from sweating in the hot summer air. “Taste good.”

A breathy moan escaped him, his mouth hanging open and hands tangled in Steve’s messy hair. “Yeah, honey? I taste good?” Billy teases, loving to hear him admit it.

“Mhmm, you taste so good, sir,” Steve moans out, eyes locked with Billy’s as his lips sunk halfway down his cock. He wraps a hand around what he couldn’t fit in his mouth, his head starting to bob. His wrist and mouth move in sync, knowing precisely what drives Billy crazy. The calloused pads on Billy’s forefingers rub small circles into Steve’s scalp, pressing Steve further down his shaft, not quitting, even after he starts to choke. Spit drools down Steve’s chin as he sputters, lack of oxygen making his head go fuzzy.

“Goddamn slut, slobbering over my cock like a two-penny whore,” he smirks, not letting him up for air. “’Cause that’s all you’re good for, isn’t it, Stevie?” Billy forces Steve’s head down to the root, his nose buried in coarse golden curls. “Yeah, that’s all King Steve is worth, isn’t it? Nice for a good couple of fucks until you’re just like all the other whores at our school.” Tears begin to stream down Steve’s reddened cheeks, further proving Billy’s point. “Aw,” he mocks, “you’re getting tears all over me, Stevie. That’s not very nice, now, is it?”

Steve hollows out his cheeks in a futile effort to stop himself from choking. Just as his reddened face started to deepen in color, Billy let him off his cock, reveling in the desperate gasp Steve made. The brunette’s chest heaved as he gulped down air, Billy’s dick twitching at the sight of him. “Good boy,” he hums, wiping the drool off of Steve’s chin. “Stand up for me, yeah? Hands on the door, mkay?”

He nods between the deep breaths he took, the stars sprinkled in his vision quickly dispersing. His red, bruised knees shake as he stands up, accepting Billy’s outstretched hand. “Kiss, please?” Steve asks, his voice rough and scratchy sounding.

“Of course.” Billy cups his face in his hands, gently closing the gap between them. Steve’s lips are swollen and pink, making the blond’s cock twitch against his stomach. His thumbs stroke Steve’s cheekbones, prompting Steve to press himself impossibly closer. Billy gently presses him to the door, hips grinding in tandem with one another. “Turn around,” he demands, his deep voice laden with lust and desire.

Steve is quick to obey, his hands coming up to make a pillow for his forehead, legs spread wide. Freckles are scattered along his back, trailing down his butt and continuing to the backs of his thick thighs. A pink, faded hickey is still visible on Steve’s ass, and Billy couldn’t help but smack it. Steve’s dick twitched at the slap, and he arched his back, silently begging Billy to give him something, anything.

Billy hums, staring at the heavenly curve of Steve’s spine. “Such a nice ass you got here, Harrington. It’d be a shame to leave it so plain like this.” The palm of his hand connects with Steve’s asscheek, pulling a choked yelp from him. A pink handprint blooms a few seconds later, giving Billy a target to smack next. After a few minutes, both sides are painted a pretty shade of pink and red; a subtle heat radiating from the half a dozen handprints Billy left behind.

“Fuck, Sir, please! Please, just fuck me already!” Steve whines, grinding against Billy’s cock.

He coos at him with a mocking tone, “Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, always a desperate little slut for me.” Hands run up Steve’s back and settle on the meat of his shoulders, making him shiver. Billy ruts against his already loose hole surprised to find that Steve already prepped himself. “Well, well, well, look at that,” he tsks, clicking his tongue. “Already loose for me, huh? Why is that, Harrington? You anticipated I’d drag you into your bathroom and fuck you like the cheap whore you are? Or were you just jacking off this morning, fantasizing about how I fuck you so much better than that dildo you were using?” Billy licks his teeth coyly, chewing on his bottom lip as he slides two slick fingers inside him, the other hand still glued to Steve’s shoulder.

Steve chokes out a startled moan, not expecting his fingers that quickly. “Oh god, Billy—”

“Which one was it, baby?” His fingers speed up, quickly adding a third. “C’mon, tell me, Stevie.”

“The second one!” he sputters, dick twitching as precum dribbles out from the tip, pooling on the cold tile floor. “Missed you this morning; couldn’t help myself.”

Billy’s fingers leave just as quickly as they arrived, drenched and sticky with lube. “Aww,” he teases, a smirk wide across his handsome face. He wraps a hand around his shaft, tapping the head of his cock against Steve’s winking hole. “Now, now, I’ll give you what you want, don’t worry,” Billy hums, slowly pressing inside him. Steve gasps and groans, hips pushing back on his cock, eager for more. “Yeah, that’s it, Stevie. Nothing compares to the real thing, huh? This what your pretty little ass needed?” Billy bottoms out with a harsh thrust, groaning in pleasure.

“Oh fuck, yes, just like that,” he moans, blunt nails clawing at the door. “S’deep, baby, fuck.” His chest bobs from his heavy breathing, giving away how sensitive Steve is already. Giving him minimal time to adjust, Billy pulls out halfway, only to return with intense vigor. His balls slap against Steve’s with every pounding thrust he delivers, harmonizing with the mantra of moans and high-pitched gasps pouring from the brunette’s mouth.

The hinges on the door rattle, giving away their secret if anyone were to hear. “Aww, this is just what you needed, isn’t it, baby? Just needed a good plowing to fix all your problems, isn’t that right?” Billy cards a hand through Steve’s sweaty hair, gripping it tightly and tugging. He pulls Steve off the door, forcing his back to arch further, bringing their faces close together. Billy’s tongue darts out to lick the shell of Steve’s ear, a shiver wracking through him again. “Go on an’ tell me how you feel, sweetheart.” He turns Steve to the right, forcing him to stare at himself in the mirror. “Look so good for me, Stevie.”

Steve took in their reflections. Sweat trickled down both of their hairlines; their faces flushed a matching shade of dark red. Steve’s bangs bounce with every thrust before eventually getting stuck to his damp forehead. “S’good, Billy—Sir,” he corrects himself. “Fuck, yes, just like that! Please don’t stop,” Steve begs, eyes threatening to roll into the back of his head. Billy sucks another hickey into his neck, eyes never leaving the mirror. “Oh my God, oh my God, Billy! Right there, right there, right there!”

Billy adjusts himself to hit that spot with every thrust. “Found it,” he mumbles to himself, hips speeding up considerably. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the bathroom, mixing with their moans to create a lustful song meant only for them. Precum oozes from Billy’s cock, creating a small, white ring around the base of his cock. Steve’s followed suit, the pool on the tiles growing steadily. “Cum whenever you want, honey,” he whispers in his ear, smirking at how Steve clenched around his cock in response.

“Billy, Billy, Billy, baby, oh my lord, I’m so close!” he cries, returning his thrusts. His hands dig into the expensive marble countertops, desperate for any kind of stability he could find. “Don’t—Don’t stop! Don’t sto—stop, please!” Steve’s eyebrows furrow together, his face morphing into one of pure ecstasy. His whole body shook as his orgasm washed over him, Billy’s muscled arms holding him steady as he fucked him through it. Steve’s spunk dripped down the equally as expensive wooden cabinets, his cock twitching even after his orgasm ended.

It wasn’t long before Billy came as well, shooting his load deep inside Steve’s ass. He doesn’t pull out right away, allowing them to revel in the afterglow. Billy litters Steve’s back with chaste kisses, reeling him back down to earth. “Fuck, baby,” Steve groans, turning his head to kiss him. He turns around fully, Billy’s cock slipping out unceremoniously. Cum slowly starts to drip down his thighs, leaving him to shift around uncomfortably. “Love you so much.”

Billy’s hands ran through Steve’s hair as they kissed. For once, nothing else in the world mattered but them. Nothing mattered other than how long they could kiss, how long they could cuddle, and how long they could stay enveloped in each other’s worlds. “Love you so, so much more, baby,” he whispers, their noses bumping. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Steve nods, placing another kiss on his lips before they part.

Billy dampens a washcloth in warm water, gently cleaning the half-dried cum from Steve’s thighs. “Didn’t go too far, did I?”

“No,” he shakes his head, chest warm with affection. “I’d tell you if you did. You don’t need’ta worry, honey.” Steve kisses his cheek reassuringly. Billy pumps lotion onto his hands, massaging it gently onto Steve’s sore butt.

He smiles at his response, leaning down to grab Steve’s swim trunks. “I know, I know.” Steve steps into his trunks, letting Billy dress him. Once the drawstrings are tied in a pretty blue bow, Billy pulls up his own pants, loosely buckling his belt. They forgo their shirts, both way too hot to warrant putting them on. Billy’s large hands roam the expanse of Steve’s soft, freckled stomach, enraptured by his boyfriend’s beauty.

Steve cups Billy’s cheek, mystified over the sheer amount of beauty Billy holds. “Feel like staying the night? We can order pizza, rent a few tapes. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds amazing,” he hums, turning his head to kiss the palm of his hand. “Let’s go before someone comes looking for us.” Steve nods in agreement. Reluctantly, Billy peels himself from his lover, opening the door for him and closing it behind them after they leave.

taglist: @its-deputy-caleb, @ban-canram

[tumbledfreckles]

Ooohh! What about Jily/Marauders drunken shenanigans? *wiggles eyebrows mischievously* 😏😏😏😝

Max I don't even know how long ago you sent me this, I know it's been too long. But I was waiting for inspiration, and this isn't quite drunken, but it is a party and they've had some drinks so I'm hoping it's close enough, because I love it and it rounds out my three drabbles this weekend and uses my trope of the moment - names. I hope you enjoy it.

“He’s just so oblivious.”

“I know.”

“He’s infuriating.”

“I know.”

“It’s like he doesn’t even have a fucking clue.”

“Lily, I know.”

Lily cast a sidelong glance at Sirius, who sat next to her on the windowsill, on the edge of one of the wildest parties that the Gryffindor Common Room had seen in her seven years there. To say they’d gone nuts after winning the House Cup was an understatement of epic proportions.

“Sorry,” she huffed with a sigh. “I know you’ve heard this before.”

“From both sides,” SIrius shook his head darkly. “You two are driving me crazy.”

“It’s him!” Lily protested. “You say he feels the same, but why won’t he do anything about it?”

“After you turned him down all those times?” Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you do something about it?”

“After I turned him down all those times?” She met his pointed gaze with one of her own.

“Fair enough.” Sirius thought for a second. His face lit with a grin. “Wait, I know.”

Lily felt afraid.

Very, very afraid.

“I feel like I shouldn’t ask.”

Sirius tutted, “Now, now, don’t act like you're not desperate for my mate there.”

They both turned toward the bloke in question, clear across the common room, who was currently high fiving Remus as they won their third game of beer pong against the Prewett twins. His smile lit up his face, his eyes danced and there was just the slightest flash of toned abdominals as he ran his hand through his hair, pushing the silky locks out of his face. He caught Lily’s eye across the room and winked.

Her head ducked, cheeks flushing even as heat pooled in areas much lower down.

“Evans?” Sirius was watching her, daring her to contradict him. “Still waiting.”

Lily slumped gloomily back against the window. “Yeah, alright, fine, have at it.”

When Sirius was finished with his idea, Lily had an eyebrow of her own to raise.

“You think that will work?”

He shook his head at her uncertainty. “He’ll lose his shit.”

“He probably won’t even notice.”

“Oh, he’ll notice. I give him three minutes before he pounces.”

Lily was unconvinced. “It’ll take at least five.”

“Place a wager?”

“What are your terms?”

“You get Marlene to go on a date with me.”

Lily scoffed openly, “Why do you think I can get her to do that?”

“Because she’s your best friend.” Sirius said it like it was obvious.

“Ask her yourself.”

“Is that your terms?”

Lily crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine. Sure. Those are my terms. If it works, I’ll get her to go out with you. If it doesn’t, you have to ask Marlene out. Seriously.” She pointed a finger, stabbing his chest as his mouth opened. “Don’t say it.”

“Fine,” Sirius rubbed his sternum. “Ruin all my fun. Do we have an agreement?”

She took his outstretched hand, “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Likewise. Now, off you go.”

She was subtle about it. At least, she hoped she was. Lily moved slowly across the room towards the beer pong table. She took her time. Chatted to various fellow students and friends. Got herself a new drink, smirking to herself as she allowed Peter to spike her butterbeer. Liquid courage and all that.

“Who’s winning?” she asked as she sidled up to Mary, along the edge of the table.

“Our boys,” Mary inclined her head toward Remus and James.

Our boys. She liked the sound of that. Mary only meant it as in their fellow Gryffindors, compared to the Hufflepuffs of Gideon and Fabian, but Lily liked it all the same.

“Insulted you even have to ask, Evans,” James chidded her, as he watched Remus scull a full cup of butterbeer.

“Apologies, James, I should have known,” Lily felt her breath catch in her throat, making her words quiet.

He heard them anyway.

James barely seemed to register that the ball he’d just thrown had bounced off the rim of the cup he’d aimed for. He definitely didn’t notice the Prewetts crowing across the table as Gideon lined up his next shot. Nor did he spare Remus a glance as his friend sighed and shot him a pained look.

“What did you just say?” James spun to face Lily, heedless to the game, the people around them.

“I said I was sorry for doubting you,” Lily fought hard to keep the smile off her face.

“That wasn’t what you said.” He took the beer that Remus forced into his hand, Fabian’s turn having been a success. It stayed in his hand as he took several steps toward her.

“Well, no, not word for word,” Lily shifted her weight back, her heart rate increasing as she saw the flash in his eyes, the smirk on his face.

“James, it’s your -” Remus was cut off as James thrust the cup back at him.

“Get Peter.”

“We’ll lose, we’re on a streak, you can’t -”

“I don’t care. Get Peter,” James didn’t even look to see how his friend reacted, his eyes fixed on hers.

Lily swallowed, trying to force her heart back into her chest as she took more steps back, away from Mary, away from the table, away from the throng of beer pong enthusiasts.

“Not like you to give up a game so easily,” she tried to jest, but the words came out soft, too soft.

James’ lips twitched, just slightly, just enough to relax her shoulders. “Depends on the reason.”

“What was the reason?”

“Better game started.”

Lily stopped in her retreat, not moving even as his toes lined up with hers. Her head tilted to the side as she looked up at him. “This a game, is it?”

James shook his head, “Not really. Not to me.”

“Neither,” she was reduced to a whisper as his hand curved around her jaw, fingers spanning her neck, thumb brushing across her cheek.

“Say it again,” he whispered, forehead almost on hers.

“I’m sorry for-”

“Not that,” he cut her off harshly, his other hand squeezing at her hip where she hadn’t even realised he held her. “The part where you said my name.”

Lily looked at him, at the hazel that danced with gold, at the earnestness, the longing in his expression, mixed with hope and light and lust. She looked at him and realised everything else had faded away.

“James.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond, pushing straight up into his arms, threading her hands into the soft silky hair she’d admired to bring him down to her. He needed no such encouragement, meeting her exhale on his inhale, taking the breath from her lungs their mouths sealed, a perfect fit. It was hot and damp, and her skin tingled everywhere it met with his. James sighed into her mouth, his tongue tracing the edge of her inner lip before finding hers to play with.

“Shit,” she whispered, when they finally pulled apart, though neither moved very far.

“That bad, huh?” James leant back toward her. “I can try again.”

“No,” Lily shook her head, pressing another three kisses at least to his lips before she could pull away again. “No, not you.”

“Then what?” James’ hand had found it’s way under her top, and began traced to skin along the edge of her trousers, raising goosebumps along it’s path.

It made it difficult to focus, to say the least. She let her fingers trail down his neck to squeeze the defined muscles of his shoulder, was gratified by the groan that escaped him, that she wasn’t the only one feeling so much right then. It made it easier to think.

“I’ve got to figure out how to get Marlene to go on a date with Sirius, that’s all.” Lily looked up at James, smiling invitingly. “How do you feel about double dating?”