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#because it didn't end with them having sex
woso-dreamzzz · 3 days
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Proud IV
Hardersson x Teen!Reader
Summary: The night after the derby
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The light from the tv was still on when you crept down the stairs.
You woke to the pain in your ankle and rolled around your bed in agony. You briefly considered just laying there, sucking it up and trying to go back to sleep but in the end, the pain was just too intense and you surrendered to getting painkillers.
As you hobbled down the stairs, you inwardly cursed yourself for not grabbing any before going to bed. Your Momma had insisted on you putting some on your bedside table but you had been adamant that you would be okay.
As usual, you wished you had listened to her as you hopped down the stairs as quietly as you could.
You ducked into the kitchen, immediately rummaging through the medicine cabinet for some painkillers. You grabbed them but squinted trying to look at the dosage.
You didn't want to turn on the light.
Momma was a light sleeper. Even light coming up the stairs from the kitchen could wake her and you knew if she woke up then she would fuss over you and you didn't want that.
You could see a sliver of light from the living room though and you suddenly remembered that Morsa had been exiled there for the night because of your injury.
You assumed she was still awake and wouldn't mind company so you hobbled towards her.
She was still awake, like you predicted, lying on her side on the sofa.
The light you had seen earlier was the light from her phone, pressed up close to her face as she browsed social media.
She looked up though when you came hobbling in. She sat up.
"Hey," Magda said," Are you okay? Is something wrong?"
You lifted the pack of painkillers up. "Needed to check the right dosage." You threw them at her.
"Two," She replied, catching it easily and checking the packaging," And then no more for four hours."
"How long until they kick in?" You dry swallowed them.
"Half an hour or so. Are you staying here until they work?"
You nodded, falling easily back onto the sofa next to her.
Magda adjusted, throwing the blanket she was using over you as well and forcing you to prop your foot up on the table with her pillow.
"Comfortable?" You asked wryly and she rolled her eyes.
"I think Pernille made us buy this sofa just so I don't get a goodnight sleep when she's annoyed at me."
You grinned, slowly forgetting about the pain in your foot. "Why tell you how pissed she is when she can just show you?"
"I hope you don't get her vindictive streak," Magda joked," Sometimes she's just plain mean."
"And yet you're still with her."
Magda shrugged. "Maybe I like her like that."
Your nose wrinkled up in disgust. "That's disgusting."
She winked at you. "You'll understand one day."
A pit formed in your stomach and words spilled from your mouth before you could stop yourself. "I don't think I actually will."
"What does that mean?"
Magda shrieked at Pernille's voice, nearly falling off the sofa as her head whipped around to see Pernille leaning against the doorframe. Thankfully though, Pernille didn't lay into her for keeping you up (though Magda knew that lecture was coming soon) because she was focussed on you, brows furrowed in confusion.
You shrugged as Pernille moved to sit opposite you in the armchair.
"I just...I don't really think I'll ever get it. Sex isn't..." You made a vague gesture with your hands that only served to confuse your mothers further.
Magda cleared her throat. "So," She said," Sex is when-"
"I know what sex is!" You cut her off quickly," I just...I don't like it."
"It's okay," Pernille said," You're still young. You don't need to rush into anything and-"
"No!" You felt the urge to tear your hair out. "You're not getting it. I..." You took a moment to collect your thoughts. "I don't want to have sex. Ever. It's not a thing for me."
There was silent for a moment before Magda spoke.
"Well," She said," At least we won't have to worry about you getting pregnant."
"Magda!"
Pernille looked scandalised at her words but a bubble of laughter erupted from your throat and you decided to get everything off your chest.
"And I'm not into dating either. I don't get romantic feelings for people." To soften the blow, you added. "Oh, and I'm planning on moving to Greece, changing my name and becoming a shepherd."
Silence again.
"Will you name a sheep after me?"
"Magda!" Pernille snapped again," No, you will not be getting a sheep named after you!"
You continued to laugh, feeling something settle in your chest at the way Morsa began to list all the benefits of having sheep-Magda in the house with her.
"I'm going to bed," You said.
You left without much fanfare after that, knowing that when you came down in the morning that your mums will be curled up on that sofa together, still fast asleep.
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godjustkys · 3 days
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| mdni 18+
| SUPERNATURAL headcanons
please give requests.
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RATED: NSFW
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STATUS: You're already in a relationship.
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Request: none, I wrote it myself on February 23rd.
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Dean:
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1 - He might not admit it, but god does he love being bent over;
2 - He is SO FUCKING LOUD. When he's on top, he mostly groans, occasionally moans, but when he's on bottom,, the whimpers, whines and moans that escape his mouth is unbelievable;
3 - Praise him and he's on his knees for you;
4 - If you EVER put on a cowboy costume and you have the cowboy boots on... he's hot and bothered the moment he lays his eyes on you;
5 - LOVES pulling on your hair during intercourse;
6 - If the two of you are having sex and he's overwhelmed, he'll grab a pillow to hold onto or grip the sheets;
7 - You two have fucked in the back of Baby.. per Dean's request.. (surprisingly.);
8 - Once, in the heat of the moment, you started facefucking Dean while he was giving you a blowjob and ever since that happened, it's been his favourite thing about sex;
9 - You manhandling him is his guilty pleasure;
10 - At the start of the relationship, Dean believed that it would kind of be a switch-switch situation during sex. When you fucked for the first time, Dean was riding you and his legs started shaking. At that moment, he was thinking about getting off of you, but when you grabbed his hips and made him ride you up until the end, he gave up on that thought.
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Sam:
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1 - He is not loud at all. Sure, a couple moans here and there but it's mostly just heavy breathing or grunts. Unless he's overstimulated;
2 - Whenever he's horny, he won't make it clear to you. He just gets all grumpy and grouchy;
3 - Unlike Dean, when he's overwhelmed, he'll hold onto you. And he'll scratch the living hell out of your back;
4 - If you mess with his hair during sex, so much as pull on it, he will moan;
5 - Once, when Sam got back from a hunt with an unconscious Dean, you scolded him and he got hard. (involuntarily);
6 - Sam insisted on trying mirror sex - lo and behold, he had his face buried in the sheets for the majority of it (when you didn't hold his head up). Why? He was embarrassed;
7 - During a hunt, Sam got really grumpy. You had to do something about it because Dean's taunting demeanour would set him off immediately, so you just dragged Sam into the bathroom, when Dean was out, for a quickie. It worked wonders;
8 - You had a habit of not caring about shortness of breath when kissing, so when you first made out with Sam, he thought he was gonna pass out. (He was overreacting, he was nowhere close to passing out);
9 - He LOVES it when you're bold and straightforward, it turns him on so much;
10 - His whole body starts shaking due to pleasure if you focus on his chest and neck too much.
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Castiel:
1 - If he's in the mood for it, he won't tell you. He will just stare at you until you figure it out yourself;
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2 - If there is a moment when Castiel doesn't put his hands on your chest or stare at it, consider it a miracle;
3 - He cannot comprehend why he can't form coherent sentences during intercourse. He says "it must be some kind of curse". In reality, he's just too into it to care enough about speaking properly, but he does not realize it;
4 - Castiel does not realize how much you being rough with him turns him on. Degrade him for a couple seconds and he's hard;
5 - During sex, he holds onto you so tightly with his hands that a lot of the time, they leave bruises. Once, he noticed them and asked what happened. When you told him that they were from him, he just looked at you confused and said: "I never hit you?";
6 - Even though you being rough riles him up a lot, he prefers soft and gentle sex.
7 - When the four of you, you, Sam, Dean and Castiel were riding in Baby (you and Cas in the back seat), you decided to just lay your head in Castiel's lap and get comfortable. He was your boyfriend after all. It was fine at first, you even closed your eyes. Then suddenly, Castiel pushed you off. You sat up looking at him puzzled. He just gave you glare as he looked out of the window and covered his crotch. (Inconvenient places to get hard #2);
8 - He knows how mad it drives you when he gives you that soft innocent look during sex, it just makes you want to go rougher on him;
9 - He once asked you to 'rail him' without knowing what it meant. When you explained it to him, he replied with "oh, okay. So will you?";
10 - He finds your hands (minus your chest) the most attractive thing in the world. He WILL stare at your hands during intercourse because he wants them on him 24/7.
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A/n: if you want any of these headcanons to be made into a oneshot, please let me know. <3
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zarameraki · 16 hours
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♡₊˚🛏️₊✧ 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽-𝗱𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼’𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗻𝗼 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸 ♡🌙₊˚₊✧
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 somnophilia (the characters have discussed the kink beforehand) 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 step-father x step-daughter 𖥔 porn with a bit of plot 𖥔 dom daddy and his little girl 𖥔 gojo eats you out 𖥔 bj 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 heavy daddy kink 𖥔 lots of dirty talking
: ̗̀➛ words: 3.1k
: ̗̀➛ notes: initially this was a toji fic but satoru somehow decided to fit better (bad-dum tshh). ngl when i was writing this i got butterflies in my stomach. like i legit felt sumn throbbing lmaooo. tmi??? dont care. we're all horny here mamas. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
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Satoru wasn’t ashamed to fuck his step-daughter. 
He enjoyed it. 
You enjoyed it. 
A clandestine affair kept under the sheets from your mother and two older brothers.
Megumi and Yuji had their suspicions about how carefree their step-father was around you, constantly tickling your side, asking you to lay your head on his lap during movie nights, and buying you gifts on a whim. The boys would obviously complain about the special treatment, but Satoru would just watch with a smile as you stuck your little tongue out and called yourself Daddy’s girl. 
Because that's what you were. You were your daddy’s girl. And Satoru ensured that fact was deeply ingrained in your mind as he moved in and out of you, lifting your tender legs onto his shoulders, kissing your rosy lips, saturating your silk sheets with both his and your release.
It was difficult keeping the lewd side of your relationship a secret. Your mother was rarely at home from her corporate job, and you suspected she was having an affair with a salaryman named Satoru.
Meanwhile, your brothers were in their second and fourth year of college nearby and could come home whenever they pleased—particularly Megumi, who wasn't as much of a partygoer as Yuji being a senior. There were multiple times while Satoru was fucking you when Megumi returned home, but did that stop him from satisfying his girl? Fuck no. 
As for your stepfather, he was a remote investor in the booming hospitality industry, managing significant stakes in various companies. His encounter with your mother at an industry event last year was strategic; she became a means to an end, a stepping stone toward fulfilling his desires. A few months down the line, she introduced him to her family, to you—the most precious thing Satoru laid his eyes on. You were the real prize in his eyes, something he had to figure out how to get his hands on, despite always getting what he wanted.
So, he married your mother, moved into your house, and deployed every weapon in his arsenal, including his lethal charms, to claim you as his own.
But did Satoru cherish you in the way a man should cherish a woman? No. He didn't cherish you. His love didn’t check off the conventional boxes. He was consumed, fixated, captivated by your existence, by your body, the adorable noises you made when you climaxed. But not enough to make you his girlfriend, or someday his wife. 
He just wanted you as his step-daughter. He was a selfish, depraved bastard who got off on that fantasy, and you, God you loved nothing more. You wanted nothing more from him than to be exactly who he was in his spot—your step-father.
As long as you both kept fucking each other for however long, you were satisfied. 
“Quiet, baby,” Satoru whispered as he clicked on a link for a video call with his team. His one hand rested over his mouse, the other over your crown as you lapped at the tip of his leaking cock. “This is an important call.” 
You’d returned from school after acing the test you’d been studying all week for and wanted to release that excitement onto your step-father. After all, he did massage your shoulders and brought you fruits when you were busting your ass memorizing the periodic table. 
Satoru plastered on a smile as the voices from his computer started speaking. He still kept petting your head, chuckling casually and speaking smoothly about numbers and profits like the capitalist he was. 
You opened your jaw wider and took his length into your mouth. Your gag reflex was non-existent after months and months of perfecting this skill. Your tongue supported the bottom of his shaft, while slowly bobbing your head up and down. Satoru’s grip tightened in your hair, but he remained all rainbow and sunshine in front of his workers. 
You gripped his thick cock, feeling the veins pulsing under your touch. Your tongue slid from the bottom to the top as you sucked on the pink head like a lollipop, glancing up at him through your lashes.
Satoru shot you a heated look and guided your head with his hand. He pushed his throbbing cock into your mouth, holding your face against his pelvis. You gagged a bit, needing air, and he eased off.
“It’s on mute,” he muttered. 
You broke out into coughs and smacked his leg. “What the fuck was that for?” 
“For giving me those eyes.” 
You scoffed. “Dickhead.” 
“It’s right in front of you, Princess. Put your pretty lips on it again.” 
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed his cock extra tight making a muscle in his jaw twitch. You lapped at the pre-cum leaking down his length, then took him into the cave of your warm, small mouth. 
Satoru held your head in his hands, guiding the pace. He struggled to focus on the meeting, clearing his throat to shake off the intense feeling building up inside him. With fifteen minutes still to go, he was on the brink. 
Feeling your tap on his knee, he glanced down to see you motioning to your mouth.
Satoru lowered your head again, clenching his jaw as your tongue pushed him over the edge. He held his breath, releasing a wave of warmth as he emptied himself into your mouth. His grip tightened on your hair, while his other hand reached for his glass of water, desperately trying to steady himself with large gulps.
You pulled back, strings of your saliva and his come forming a bridge. He gave you the water and you drank the last bits of it. Satoru patted the top of your head and you stayed hidden underneath his table, admiring him as he finished his meeting. 
And before you knew it, he had you bouncing on his cock again. 
At dinner time, you helped set up the table with your brothers while your mother flipped the hamburger patties.
Satoru tossed the salad bowl, taking small glimpses at you and the pink set of tight shorts and tank you wore. He’s been noticing you rubbing your temples, swaying a little on the balls of your feet, blinking rapidly. You clearly weren’t feeling well from all that studying you’d been doing. 
Megumi abruptly pulled you aside by your elbow. “Is everything all right?” 
You blinked, fighting the sharp pain in your temple. “Yeah. Why?” 
“Satoru keeps glaring at you. Did you piss him off or something?” 
You cast a look at your step-father, who’s focused on pouring olive oil on the greens. “I haven’t talked to him since I came home from school.” 
Megumi nodded, rubbing your arm. “Well, I’m here if you need to talk about anything.” 
“What do you mean?” 
He scratches the back of his neck. “I just— This probably sounds stupid, but I don’t like knowing you’re both home alone in the afternoon.” 
“He lives here, silly. What do you expect?” 
“Yeah, I know. I know that—I’m just saying that he looks at you . . . like, weirdly. Not in a way someone would look at their family member. He acts weirdly, too. Always touching you and tickling you. I don’t know.” Megumi scrutinizes your outfit. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to wear that around the house when he’s here.” 
You frowned and crossed your arms. “I can’t deal with this again.” Putting on an act that Satoru was simply your step-father and nothing else was tiring, but you’d mastered it. “You’re being delusional as always, Megs. Satoru is just family to us and vice versa. I’m just special because I’m the youngest.” You patted his shoulder. “I can take care of myself. And if I ever need help, I’ve got you and Yuji to defend me.” 
Megumi smiled solemnly and shrugged off his hoodie, handing it to you. “Can you at least wear this?” 
Anything to ease his mind. 
You smiled and shouldered the large hoodie. 
Throughout dinner you kept losing focus of the conversation flowing between your brothers and mother. Your head was pounding from the stress of your upcoming final exams, your scalp ached a little from Satoru’s grip this afternoon, and you desperately needed sleep. 
“Y/N?” 
You lifted your head, blinking lethargically. “Yes, Mom?” 
“Are you okay?” 
“I—” You rubbed your heated forehead and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I, uh—I think I’m just not feeling too good.” 
“Sweetheart, how many times have I told you to take it easy with school? You’re doing great—”
“Great’s not going to get me in my dream college, Mom.” You lost your appetite easily and excused yourself from the table, grabbing a bottle of NyQuil and a spoon. “Please don’t wake me up until tomorrow. Goodnight.” You ignored everyone’s stares and marched upstairs, taking a spoonful on the way. 
Dropping face-front on the bed, you melted in your sheets and forced yourself into a sleep. 
Satoru waited until every light in the house was off before visiting your bedroom.
Of course, he had to check that little shit Megumi’s room, and after hearing nothing but white noise, he checked up on Yuji and found him snoring his lungs out, then finally entered into your space.
He shut the door quietly and locked it. 
You laid fast asleep, hair dusted across your soft face, one hand on your stomach, the other next to your head.
Satoru smirked and sat at the edge of your bed, checking your temperature by pressing his hand against your forehead. You were burning up, and the little strangled breaths puffing from your parted lips proved you weren’t going to school tomorrow. 
Lying down next to you, Satoru brushed your hair from your face and kissed your cheek. He glanced down the length of your body and back to your face. His fingers danced over your collarbone, the expanse of your throat, feeling your rapid pulse.
“Relax for me, baby,” he whispered in your ear, kissing below your earlobe. He watched you for a second, waiting for you to shift or wake up, but you were dead asleep. 
You talked about what turns you on the most last week, and somnophilia was right up there, leaving Satoru scratching his head in confusion. He couldn’t wrap his head around how someone could be into getting it on while asleep. But you were practically begging him to give it a try someday, and he couldn’t say no to you. 
Well, surprise, surprise, baby. 
Satoru slipped down the straps of your tank top, leaning over you. He bridged kisses from your jaw to your neck to your shoulders, softly, not his usual crass ones. His finger hooked your tank lower until it exposed your tits and your puckered nipples.
“You’re always sensitive here, aren’t you, Princess?” He cupped your left breast and lowered his head, kissing the nipple and sucking the bud. 
You took a deep breath and shifted your face to the right.
Satoru switched to your neglected breast, taking his sweet time nibbling your tender nipple, then bringing his lips to yours. He kissed the top one, the bottom one, pushed his tongue inside to feel your sleeping one. His kisses trailed lower and lower until he reached your shorts. He pulled them down to reveal white panties and a damp spot between your legs. 
“Even in your sleep, huh?” Satoru planted kisses on your inner thighs, gently biting and licking. He nuzzled his nose against your clothed sex, inhaling deeply and breathing out slowly. His tongue traced over the area, wetting it more with each stroke. “Daddy’s gonna eat his pussy now, baby.” He pulled your panties to the side and dove into your slick, moist folds. “Mmm. You smell so sweet.” 
Satoru began to lap your juices like a starved dog, keeping your tender folds parted with his thumbs. The tip of his nose bumped against your clit, sending a little shiver down your body. He double-checked to see if you’re still asleep, then continued his job. He pushed two fingers in your walls and chuckled against your flesh as you clenched around him. “It’s okay, baby. Daddy’s taking good care of you.” 
Half an hour. He ate you out for half an hour until he could see the slight quiver in your swollen clit. His saliva and your fresh release covering your abused, delicate folds.
When he pulled away, his hard cock in hand, Satoru sat back, admiring you spread out like a feast before him. Leaning in, he teased your folds with his throbbing length, digging his tip over your clit in gentle circles.
“Can I put it in, Princess?” he whispered in your ear. You didn't answer, sweat trickling down your forehead with the fever. Satoru licked the droplets, then kissed down to your neck. His hands stayed by your head as he moved his hips, dragging himself over your puffy cunt. “Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your little pussy is so soft and wet.” He gripped his length and pressed just the tip into your entrance. “Since you’ve been such a good girl, I’ll give you what you want. Just don't wake up, okay?”
Satoru slipped in smoothly and nuzzled into your neck. He eased into your tightness, going slow and steady, urging your gummy walls to adjust to his size. “My sweet baby. Look at you. Sleeping while your daddy fucks himself in you.” He pulled back and widened your legs, seeing his fat cock sliding in and out of you. “Fuck, yes. Gonna fuck this little cunt of yours for hours.” He started moving quickly. “I don’t care if you can’t walk tomorrow. You won’t be leaving this bed anyway with that fever of yours. Daddy’s gonna fuck it out of you however long it takes.” 
He put his hands on either side of your head and kissed you while moving his hips.
You moaned, feeling a shiver as cold touched your bare chest and legs. “Satoru,” you said softly. His eyes closed in pleasure as he increased his pace. 
Sensing you stirring, he wrapped his arm around your waist and turned you over so you were lying on his chest. He paused, running his hand down your arm. “It’s okay, Princess. Go to sleep. Daddy’s got you.” 
You exhaled heavily. 
Satoru licked his lips and grabbed your plump asscheeks in his palms, slowly moving himself up into you. His face squished up seeing how well you were handling him even though you were out cold. He kept going, sometimes easing up when you shifted on his chest, or speeding up when you stayed asleep. 
“I'm so close, baby. So close to finishing inside my little girl. Gonna fill you up. Flush those pills and make you a mom.” He envisioned you with a swollen belly, your breasts heavy with milk, your body glowing and all his. 
Fuck, you were his. 
You were only his. 
Satoru came harder than he ever had before. Hot spurts of his release filled your sweet hole to the brim, and yet he continued with pumping into you. “Hey, baby? Daddy doesn’t want to stop now, okay? He’s going to fuck you some more,” he said, realizing why this kink meant so much to you.
Pulling out slowly, he laid you down beside him, shedding his clothes. Pressing his chest against your back, he wrapped your leg around his and slid back inside you, burying his face in your neck. He wanted to be rough, to feel your nails on his skin, to bite you and hear you moan.
“I wanna kiss you, baby. I want your little tongue.” Satoru pulled out of you after finishing for the second time and laid you on your back. He adjusted your head so you were looking at him. His fingers went back to pleasuring you while his lips met yours. He slipped his thumb between your teeth, easing your bottom jaw down. Satoru slid his tongue in, playing with yours, moaning and breathing heavily.
“My baby has such soft lips,” he murmured over your wet, swollen mouth. Taking his finger soaked with your juices and his come, Satoru placed them between your lips and ran them over your tongue. He ravished your mouth again. 
Exhausted from holding back, Satoru pulled you close and slid back inside you, staying still, just feeling your warmth. He ran his hand over your back, kissed your head, and shut his eyes.
In the morning, you woke up feeling a bit weighed down below and something awkward stopping your movements. You lifted your head, rubbing your sleepy eyes, and saw Satoru asleep beneath you. A grin spread across your face as you remembered the steamy dream you had about him satisfying you. 
You planted a kiss on his cheek and tried to get up using your hands, but then you froze. 
You looked down and realized you were sitting right on top of Satoru’s cock.
Holy shit. It wasn’t a dream. 
Satoru fucked you while you were out cold. Just thinking about him taking advantage of your defenseless body to satisfy himself made you shiver.
“Dickhead,” you grumbled, then began to rock your hips. Time for payback. Yanking down your cami-top, you teased your nipples, riding his stiffening cock. You couldn't care less as you leaned in for a kiss. “Rise and shine, Handsome.” 
Satoru took a deep breath. His lips synced with yours effortlessly, and his hand found its way into your hair. He yanked your head back, his eyes widening as they trailed down to your swaying hips. A smirk played on his lips as he relaxed back, crossing his arms behind his head. “You feeling good now, Princess?”
“Much better, Daddy.” 
Satoru admired the playful bounce of your tits, the adorable mewls escaping your mouth, the flush of your smooth skin. Seeing his step-daughter fuck herself on his cock first thing in the morning had him on cloud nine. 
“I’m gonna come, Daddy,” you moaned, hands planted on his chest. 
“Come, then, baby. Come on your daddy’s cock.” He reached out and grabbed your throat. “Then lick it clean.” 
“Yes, Daddy.” You came with a muted cry, milking every last drop of him. “Your cock is so full inside of me.” Satoru smirked at your dirty little words and gave your left tit a little slap. 
You picked yourself up from his cock and knelt between his legs. Satoru watched as your little hand barely wrapped around his girth, lapping at his come like his pretty, little kitten. “Feels good, Daddy?” 
“Yeah, baby. You always feel good to me.”
Satoru released a contented sigh and reclined against the soft pillows, his arms folded beneath him.
He will never be shameless of fucking his sweet girl ever. 
289 notes · View notes
nabitsun · 2 days
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౨ৎ SPINE BREAKER
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fem! reader x nerdy! choso
᭝ synopsis : who knew you just needed good dick from a nerdy boy to lose that attitude.
᭝ tags: smut & little angst? uni (both in their 20s), reader is kind of a minx but you'll pick that up.. (well, all reader's friends are) porn w plot would've guessed, oral sex (f), pussyjob, unprotected (pull out game 10/10), uhh sweet choso duh <3
᭝ wc: 11.5k ...
᭝ notes: t'was supposed to be a one-scene typa oneshot but got carried away - blame it on nerdy! choso. (i remixed that shit 4 times)
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"shoko.."
"what is it?"
"no need to put these under my nose i've told you, i'm not coming." you slap her hand away gently, she's holding two entries for a random party in town.
"oh but you will." she smiles.
you know you will, you always do.
"c'mon i have two entries? i can't waste them."
"exactly, ask yuki to come with you."
"she also bought two entries, she's already coming with someone else."
you give her a quizzical look,
"i don't know any better, she didn't say."
"she's probably inviting aoi over again, God.. another reason to not come.." you shake your head at the sole thought of the man.
"who's that?" she says, switching up outfits in front of her as she ponders in front of the mirror.
"y'know that meathead eccentric guy who's like, super fan of her,"
"ohh, that one.." she hums in thoughts "mh, i doubt it though. the last time he was here, he didn't leave with that same smug face. if he keeps getting into trouble the way he does, I doubt she'll invite him back."
she's referring to the last time yuki invited aoi to one of these parties, not to sugarcoat anything but he definitely learnt the hard way to not be an arrogant show off.
"i hope not." you mumble
"stop trying to find excuses. you're coming with me, we're gonna have a good time, end of story."
you let out a crude laugh, "let me rephrase. you're gonna have a good time, and i am gonna get bored out of my mind." you can see her roll her eyes, "i don't even see the point of going there."
"because you don't try to have fun."
"if trying to have fun implies rubbing myself on some smelly drunk strangers with shitty ass songs in the background, then yeah i'd rather not try."
"you're no fun, it's not that bad."
"it's not that bad until you reach your fifth drink" you quick back as you cross your arms over your chest as if to withdraw from this endless battle that you know, will defeat you.
"aren't you being a little dramatic, now?" shoko barely looks at you with raised eyebrows. she knows as well as you do that beyond her tolerance limit she's no longer controllable, which is why you've spent many nights taking her home and trying - as best you could - to bring her back safe and sound. she won't admit it though.
you dismiss the (probably) rhetoric question, "since yuki's coming, why do you want me to go so bad?"
"what a silly question." she sighs as if she'd heard a child say the most gullible nonsense, "i like having you around, that is all."
"something is tellin' me you don't wanna end up third wheeling," you sing song.
"shut up.. you're coming anyway." she avoids your stare and lets out a heavy sigh, "you like the blue one?" she twirls the dress on its hanger around and turn over to face you, she tilts her head on the side as if to weight your future answer.
"i like the purple better."
"that's what i was thinking.."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
being confided in the car with a loquacious shoko didn't help the growing headache you felt in the back of your skull. it had been a tough week.
your exams were approximately in a week and just thinking about it actively made your head hurt even more, and your throat tightened with culpability.
"hey, don't die on me now." shoko glares at you from the side as she's driving to the house. you feel her checking you multiple times.
"i'm fine," you sigh, rubbing your temples in an attempt to soothes the growing pain – that eventually worsened when shoko suddenly hit the brakes, a bit too abruptly to your liking, at a stop sign.
"girl, you either need a good night sleep or some good dick." she clicks her tongue, "look at you," she emphasizes by shaking her head as if the sole sight was too much for her.
"focus on not getting us crashed already."
"i'm serious though, you want some water?"
"no–no, i told you i'm okay." you look ahead of you, resting your head against the headrest for some support ; flashes of cars and traffic lights interacting in the night, "you drive like shit though."
"wow. okay, you'll show me how much of a good driver you are when you'll drive me back tonight, yeah?" she chuckles, taking a second turn on a new avenue.
"having you drunk in the back of the car is a constant fight of trying to not make you throw everything up, of course i have to drive nicely."
you see your friend nodding as she taps her fingers on the steering wheel, apparently at loss of words.
"mhm, thanks?"
you relax back with a content smile, "i prefer that,"
the house is not so far from your respective apartments, also not far from your university, which is around a fifteen minutes drive.
you can't really be mad at shoko for dragging you to those places ; the kind of places where she often ends up with a grain of lucidity to keep her half upright, while all the rest of her cognition makes her look like a psychotic out of an asylum. and even though you're practically always the one driving her back to her place, it doesn't exclude the fact that you need this sometimes.
despite your complaints of not wanting to go with her – for various reasons that you listed prior, but also because of your upcoming exams that are sucking the energy directly out of you – you still kind of look forward to the evening, if you're being honest. it gives you the opportunity to sit back and suspend the course of time for an evening, as ephemeral as it is.
the car stops at a red light as you think back to shoko's words, back in her room.
"yuki still didn't tell you about her special guest ?" you mindlessly ask as you fix your makeup by looking in the mirror of the sunshade, curling your eyelashes with the edge of your index to fix them.
"nope, i might have an idea though.." she pauses, you don't say anything as you wait for her to continue, "you know that guy she hangs out with sometimes? she's not like always with him but i don't think she'd invite anyone else, knowing her.."
"what guy?" you frown, you close the sunshade to look at her.
"uhh, black hair, pale skin, really quiet too. one of those snobs who behaves like termites by staying in their hole, you know. i don't even think i've ever talked to him, or seen him talk for that matter." she squints her eyes to reminisce old memories but the sudden shift of color on the traffic lights makes her focus back on the road.
"like what? a sorta depressed emo boy or something?" you scoff.
she laughs, out of mockery for your credulity it seems, "pretty close. but he's really.. the nerdy type y'know? the type to sit there and not say a word unless spoken to about some stupid nerdy shit, i guess."
"as long as he doesn't talk about fuckin' uni or something like that tonight, i'm good." you sigh at the thought as you close your eyes, clearly ignoring the silent warnings in her eyes.
"oh girl, you're such a fucking minx."
you ignore her offense when you continue your interview, "why would she invite him though? i mean why would he even come?"
"why did you?"
you keep silent.
"exactly," she states, "now keep your curiosity to yourself, you're about to find out."
after a few bends leading to the far end of town, you then remark the students crowding the lawn, stepping everywhere as some of them walk to the entry of the house.
no wonder you had to pay entries to get to some crackhead student party – you understood when you saw the size of the house and how many people there was. you silently hoped there was no one around as they would probably spend one hell of a night.
"not too far, i don't wanna have to carry you fifty meters tonight." you warn as shoko tries to find a good parking spot.
she sends you a hard glare and mumbles something inaudible that almost sounds like an insult. she seems to comply anyways as she parks not to far from the entry.
you were met with fresh air as you stepped outside the car, the extremities of your skin growing cold as well as your bare legs barely warming up with the strides you were taking. it was only eight in the afternoon and yet, you already saw wobbly people trying to walk their way out of the house. the two of you approach the path leading to the house, hearing the music as it gradually intensifies.
"there," shoko throws the car keys to you as you catch them hardly in your hands, "in case i lose them during the evening, you're in charge." you don't say anything, you'll have to drive back home anyways.
the calm atmosphere of an april evening was replaced without much transition as you walked past the open doors. the lights of the traffic lights now seemed far less stimulating in comparison to the sight in front of you. and paradoxically, your headache had disappeared, making you guess it was indeed, shoko's driving.
shoko turned around and took your hand to lead you through the numerous ponds of people hovering the place, talking, singing, dancing or even making out grossly. your steps grew heavier – whether from the combined heat of everyone weighing down on you or the vibrations of the boosted bass – it felt as if you were clearly reaching the pit of hell, both physically and symbolically.
and you could feel that with every steps forward, requiring the unsolicited touch of people brushing past you. the odors coming on play for less than a few seconds to merge with your own scent, just to disappear as soon as it entered past your nostrils. the lights changing from blue to purple to pink or even red, reflecting on the few skin shoko was showing with her slip dress as she was leading the way.
to say you were getting overstimulated was understandable. it was like getting thrown into a pit with only hungry lions to face; and with that dramatic metaphor you noted that the first lion you'd have to fight tonight, was the woman in front of you.
once you both reached what seemed to be the main saloon – though it was hard to decipher with the ton of people and the lack of furniture, beside some occupied couches. you didn't even know who was hosting the party to be fair, it seemed to change every other week like some sort of competition of who's gonna have the privilege to clean the big mess next morning – although you'd guess they probably have someone to do just that.
you were so focused on the environment you didn't even see the golden shadow passing by when a pair of fingers snapped you out of your illusion.
"you look like it's your first time at the zoo."
by the tone and voice you wouldn't even need to turn around. yuki looks at you with crossed arms in a sleeveless black turtleneck and flare jeans with a hint of a smile – out of friendliness or amusement, you didn't know.
"definitely feels like it," you smile back as you reach out to embrace her, which she welcomes.
"i see, shoko brought you here just to be her cab home then hm?" she tilts her head ignoring the way shoko snapped her head in her direction.
"hey don't say that! i wanted her company t–"
she gets interrupted by a loud noise, not seemingly coming from the music but by someone who just seemed to crash down on a wooden coffee table – one of the furniture you had such a hard time to see apparently because some people decided to stand on it. both girls in front of you roll their eyes almost in sync.
"well, looks like the alcohol's kicking in. you're coming with me?" yuki addresses to shoko and you.
"yeah i need to get something, i don't like how aware i am right now." shoko shakes her head in disapproval of the events.
the three of you approach the kitchen, where all the drinks stand upright and ready to use like weapons of war laid out on a table.
you don't venture into drink design, preferring to leave it to shoko or yuki, who apparently know best what they're doing since they're arguing over whether pineapple or cranberry would be more suitable to mix with vodka. once the ingredients are mixed, you all take a sip to mark the start of your evening.
"ew what the–" your body shudder lightly from disgust as you lower your hand over the counter, "tastes like piss seriously.." you whine and look at the wrongdoer.
"told you pineapple was a bad choice." yuki restates, but she's ignored by shoko, who takes the cup from your hand and pours the contents into her own cup.
"fuckin' alcoholic.." you breathe out in amusement.
"i paid for these, might as well make it worth my while." shoko rejoins and it makes you think..
"hey yuki, talking about entries, where's your guest?"
she takes another sip before answering through the music as she leans over, "he told me he wanted to use the bathroom, he went upstairs i think but.." she looks around, ".. i don't see him around, maybe he's stuck in there or something." she shrugs as if it were the most banal piece of information.
you naturally frown at the answer and at her lack of interest as to where her friend might be, so does shoko as she flicks yuki's forehead – earning an annoyed grunt from her victim.
"you can talk about me, you don't even care about your friend."
"he's a dude girl, if he's staying up there there's a reason. i'm sure he's fine," she shrugs once again with round eyes devoid of any remorse.
as they continue to argue mindlessly you sneak your hand on the counter, gliding it across the surface to grab discreetly yuki's cup, probably much tastier with cranberry, and retrieve it back to walk away and leave them to their incessant vindictive promises.
you're sure when you come back they'll still be on their feet – at least you'd like to put this much faith in them – as you rush through agglutinated people to get past the stairs. you don't really know why you're going, maybe you could say he picked your interest ; the thought of a guy like him in the middle of the evening just reminds you of a lamb around a horde of wolves.
you take a couple more sips from your cup and climb the stairs, squeezing past a heated couple making out in the middle of it. you follow down the corridor to find a multitude of doors, and one at the end of it that would be the perfect prototype of the bathroom at the end of a corridor. once you reach it you lean in to rest your ear against the door, trying to gauge potential noises, but nothing.
you smooth your denim skirt down and readjust your purse on your shoulder. you knock once, then twice – over the music you're practically not able to hear your own knocking – until your press your fingers down on the locker slowly, peeking through the door but you're only welcomed with pitch black.
maybe he just got lost among people, or maybe he was one of the ones you saw vomiting their guts out outside – which is less probable, but not impossible. you don't really feel like acting like a detective and exploring every nook and cranny, for fear of also finding yourself in front of people fucking in one of the rooms, so you prefer to turn back on your heels, giving up on the mission you thought would spark up your evening a little bit.
but it doesn't really go as planned actually. as you walk back towards the stairs, you notice a door open ajar, as if to let in a trickle of air, so you don't pay it much attention, but it's only when you start to look away that you see the previously motionless shadow, move.
it's quite honest to think that it's the first effects of the alcohol that are starting to take effect, a blurry vision in addition to poor lighting – results are not promising. you pause in your steps once more, tightening your fingers around your cup as you tilt your head so that you can look through the doorway without acting too much like a voyeur.
that's when you see him. rather tall figure standing up with the major help of big boots, black trousers with a black shirt – or maybe the colors are tainted by the darkness of the room, barely lit up by an amber light. and you do notice the signature buns with a few strands falling on his forehead.
his movements are so ever delicate you're having a hard time to decipher if the stability of your vision is playing tricks on you, or if it's really the slowness of his movements. one of his hands reaches over the shelf, he grabs a book and opens it. so careless.
"didn't know you were also a creep." you open the door without warning, with your cup in a hand and it makes you think that you probably look like some drunken mess barging in a room.
he drops the book on the ground.
"fuck!" his panicked eyes dart to you, pretty purplish eyes, "i'm sorry— shit. i didn't mean to pry." he picks up the book from the ground, bending his knees to grab it softly.
"if anything, i was the one prying." you comment, entering the room. and.. oh? what a sight you're welcomed with. it's a crime to not have seen this man on campus before – or maybe that's his crime to decide to stay inside his room with such a pretty face. his eyebrows are still brought near the center of his forehead, a faint look of worry that doesn't seem to disperse as the seconds pass.
it's also shoko's crime not to have mentioned the few silver jewels adorning his lips and eyebrows, or the charcoal mark layered upon his nose and spread horizontally along the length, covering both cheeks. and maybe there's another crime to add to your list when his tired eyes look away from you, trying to find some sort of distraction, anywhere but on you.
"i wasn't doing anything, i swear." his voice is coated with the sweetest tones though it's deeper than you'd expected – such a contrast with his face.
"careful, there's no better way to appear guilty than with this sentence." and you swear you can see a light frown on his face. you take a couple more steps towards him, he stands still, the book still in his hand as it's closed and tightly wrapped around his fingers.
you reach for the book lazily, and you take good care to not try any brusque movements. it's like you're walking on thin ice and you just start to realize how quieter it got in the room, with the buzzing of music barely heard and a few people chanting way too far.
he doesn't even try to fight it, the book slips past his fingers easily as you grab it, "The Picture Of Dorian Gray". classic. he looks down at you silently, a bit too long as if he's realized something.
"are you planning to come down?"
he shoves his hands in his pockets, shifting part of his weight on one foot in a slightly awkward manner, "i don't really feel like it."
"why is that?" you put the book right in the empty space, where you guess it previously was, squished between the other books.
"i don't really enjoy.. this." he nods to the door.
"what do you enjoy then?"
he runs his tongue over his piercing, wetting his lips and smothering the silver ring with it in the process as he ponders, then locks eyes with you finally.
"not parties at least."
"mhm, i would've guessed."
the room was strangely not that big compared to the house, a very sober room that must have been for guests, at least no personal decorations were visible. you approached the window to watch the racket outside and you found yourself glad to be upstairs at the sight.
"yuki was getting worried though." you know it's not true, but you're trying your best, you really are.
he turns around to face you, still not moving an inch from his initial position though, "oh so you're one of yuki's friend? the one she said would come?"
"it depends on whether she talked about a little pain in the ass or a cheeky cynic."
"she used the term.. « bothersome minx », if i recall."
you chuckle softly and put your cup down on the windowsill, gliding it on the side as you turn to look at him. he eyes you up and down, tapping his fingers along his thighs and you're not sure if you are in good shape due to the previous consumption or if he's just being the analytical man he's known to be.
"what's your name?"
"choso."
"choso.." you introduce yourself as well, he repeats your name just the same, "wanna sneak out?"
"what do you mean? like right now?"
"yeah, why not? i mean you can stay in that room as long as you want but i doubt you'll have much fun." he turns his head to glance at the door lazily, gauging the proposal.
"what are we gonna do?"
"i don't know, we'll see." you shrug with a smile and you're not sure if playing the russian roulette with him is gonna get you anywhere but you're too interested to play it safe.
"hm, i want to be back for yuki though, she's gonna need a ride home."
"you will." you say simply, but choso raises his eyebrows, waiting for more based arguments rather than a simple affirmation. so you continue,
"we can just take the car, drive for a couple of minutes and you'll be back here before you even notice."
there's a few seconds of silence where you both look at each other, expecting an answer. he sighs, lowering his head and you think he's about to decline your invitation but..
"alright, but just for some time."
you can't help but grin widely, you eagerly dig in your purse for the car keys shoko gave you and take quick steps towards the exit. as you wait for him on the doorstep you see him take a few strides, but towards the windowsill where you previously were standing. he grabs the drink you left dismissively, his jacket on the bed, and throws your empty cup in the bin just in the corner of the room as he walks back towards you.
he smiles gently at you and closes the door behind the two of you.
you practically had to fight your way through the crowd waiting for you downstairs. you thought the hardest part would be getting through to the front door, but once outside you found yourself in a quandary as you had to tiptoe to avoid stepping on any garbage, sticky liquids or dead drunks on the lawn.
choso asked you if you were able to take the wheel, you told him yes, of course – you'd only had one drink that had barely shaken you. he insisted on driving anyway.
the place where you had him taken was one of the only ones not too far away that was still open at this hour; and especially one that didn't look like a crowded bar.
a small café-restaurant run by a woman who was far too old to still be on her feet serving until late at night – but she always did it with too much care that you always resigned yourself to going there, even if the prices were higher.
the car ride had been remotely silent, with only a few instructions as to the routes to take and choso asking you if you wanted to put the heat on.
you took your seats on the colorful banquettes, waiting for the woman to come and take your order. the contrast was quite ironic, seeing you and choso dressed for some fancy evening in a place that was very reminiscent of that kind of little retro restaurant in the 50s, with the famous jukebox playing ballads from Elvis Presley, and the endless greasy hot dogs displayed on the counter.
"didn't think you'd follow a stranger blindly,"
he rests his forearms on the table and bring his eyes back on you as they were occupied scanning the place, "you're no real stranger, you're yuki's friend after all."
"oh i'm sure you were the kinda kid to enter some random white van." you say, more to yourself though as you look at the menu briefly. he doesn't say anything in return, and you don't look up either to see if he's looking at you or not.
"tell me choso," his name is like the ring of a bell, his eyes widen just a little, "how come i've never seen you around? you're on campus right?"
"mhm, i guess," he opens his mouth as if to start a sentence but he soon renounces by closing it immediately, he reaches for his nape to massage it, "i guess i don't really hang out around campus."
"majoring in?"
"computer science."
you would have bet your entire fucking fortune on it. you let a smile slip through.
"um, you're friends with gojo satoru too, right?"
the question definitely surprises you, everyone knows who's satoru, and that's not to his advantage as he's more or so known for being one hell of a jerk. you nod and he takes a deep breath, one that speaks volumes.
"i know what he says about me, you know. i just don't want you to think i'm like that." he admits and the sight almost makes you frown, you don't know if it's pity or empathy but you shake the feeling away.
"what do you think he says about you?"
he pauses for a few seconds, he's quick to bring his hands around his ear piercing, fidgeting with them as he relaxes back against the banquette, he finally crosses his arms over his chest.
"they say things that aren't necessarily wrong but aren't totally true either."
when he says they, he's probably referring to shoko, or maybe suguru if you think about it, though he doesn't seem to care about people's business that much.
you'll blame choso's inability to communicate properly for his ambiguous answers and not because he's trying to pull a series of enigma right now.
"mhm, and don't you think i have a mind of my own?"
his eyes almost pop out of their sockets and he once again leans against the table, clearly not settled on how to sit still, "no–no i didn't mean to say that ! i'm sure you do," he says softly, yet still very much alarmed.
you almost regret your choice of words but he's so goddamn sweet it would be a shame not to tease him a little.
"i don't know i just, don't want you to think badly of me." his fingers fidgets with the salt and pepper shaker in front him.
you know you're in no position to talk, you even feel embarrassed if you're being honest, as you were not just about an hour ago making fun of him in the car with shoko – that, he doesn't know.
the old woman comes back to take both your orders and it's as if the bubble you were both in had just burst, bringing you back to the café as the music gradually came back to your senses. choso orders a strawberry milkshake and you take a blueberry.
the way he talks is so sweet, it makes you physically wince, and let's not talk about the way he looks at the old woman like she was cotton candy to the eye. you think it's all an act he's about to drop when she leaves but, even when she returns behind the counter he returns his eyes on you with the same look ; heavy lids – that you don't know if they are the consequence of a long day or if they're always like that – with shades or purple circling them.
"you'll know that the only time I take satoru's opinion into account is when I have to make a choice for lunch. you're okay." you assure.
he nods slowly and you see his face soften at your reassuring words.
"i don't know why you hang out with them." he says and it's so faint you're not even sure if he mumbled to himself or if he actually talked to you.
you tilt your head on the side with a frown, "what do you mean?"
he takes some time to answer, to gather his words or because he's hesitant you don't really know.
"you were always so nice to me," but you're still puzzled so he continues, "back in high school, you weren't hanging out with this kind of people, y'know."
you don't even pay attention to the way he's not so subtly trying to bring your friends down, you readjust yourself in your seat, visibly confused.
"i don't.. i mean, we were in the same class?"
choso shrugs, not really phased to see you don't remember him at all, "you had a lot of friends. plus, i didn't have these two." he points his finger up to show his hair attached in two buns atop of his head as if it could be the sole reason of your memory lapse. silly.
"i like this look on you. you look nice with them." you say as you look at the hairstyle thoroughly. the praise seemed to have gotten to him because you can see a small smile on his lips as he looks around impatiently for the drinks to arrive – or maybe he just needed to lay his eyes somewhere else than on you.
the drinks arrive shortly after, not surprising due to the lack of customers as it's practically just the two of you there. you don't really say anything much, comfortable in the silence you're both in as you grab your order to taste them. you don't really want to continue the conversation about your friends right now, and choso seems to have dropped the idea of it too.
choso watches you as you lean in to wrap the straw around your lips, elbows on the table to support your body on top. he also watches the way the milkshake climbs up the straw to pour into your mouth, away from prying eyes.
"you want some?"
his blurred eyes meet yours.
"huh?"
you smirk, only because you're enjoying the look on his face and you want it to worsen. you straighten up properly, away from that damn straw and focus on choso, who grows a little embarrassed, somehow – you see it, he backs down a little just at the sight.
"i know what you want," you say, almost above a whisper, stirring the straw with painful slowness.
"you just gotta ask."
choso doesn't say anything. he doesn't really know what to say actually as he flicks his eyes between your eyes and your lips. he's panicked, that's one thing anyone could notice if only they had their attention on him.
"you want a taste, right?" you say with such a languid voice he has to look around to see if you're putting on a show for anyone around, in vain of any spectators. choso raises his eyebrows, devoid of any answers.
"my drink, you idiot."
such a fool, his pouding heart slows back down quietly into his chest and it shows by the prior rapid breaths that are replaced by long and painful sighs. and what a disguised curse to be around you. he doesn't even seem to notice the degrading name he got assigned, you're not even sure he's got to hear the short sentence correctly.
"um.. yeah, sure."
you glide the drink forward on the table until it reaches his fingers which firmly wrap around the glass – and if you were from the police you'd suspect it's to hide his shaking fingers. he puts his own lips where yours once were and begins to sip through the straw. he doesn't have to look up to see you watching intently, he can feel it.
"there you go, how is it?"
"s'good." he nods.
the aroma melts on his tongue, almost sugarcoating the strawberry he previously ingested and the sour taste of a little humiliation.
"i wonder what's going on in that little head of yours. you're so analytical with everything."
"you make me feel like I have to be."
a head tilt from you is all he needs to know he has to develop his thoughts.
"be aware of my surroundings."
your answer gets stuck in the back of your throat when you hear the buzzing of your phone in your purse, you dig it out : a call from shoko.
you excuse yourself and choso simply nods, you bring the phone to your ears and you soon regret the movement as dissonant noises come to deafen your drums – urging you to pull your phone away from your ear.
"h-hey!! where.." the sentence is cut by another voice, and maybe some screams, you don't really know. you squint your eyes as you try to decode the semblance of sentences thrown at you, you call shoko but she doesn't seem to be on the line although the call indicates two minutes past.
choso continues to sip on his milkshake and he looks just as confused as you are.
"where r'you–" you don't need to ask her if she's drunk or not, you can hear it through the slurring of her words. you don't answer her question though, you know it will cause more damage than anything to say you'd preferred to leave the party to go sip on some milkshake with a man you're supposed to despise more than anything.
after five minutes of negotiation, you finally find out what shoko wanted - simple curiosity as to where you were, but also a call for help with the disappearance of choso, who was supposedly trapped in the toilet, according to yuki. you promptly hang up and finish your milkshake in a one go.
"she's in trouble?" choso gauges your reaction and imitates you, putting away his own things as he puts his jacket on.
"she's about to be if we don't come pick her up now." you place you purse back on your shoulder as you draw enough of cash to cover the bill and tip, "c'mon, let's go."
choso wasn't so wrong in the end, since you both arrived in time to prevent a tragedy from happening, one more on the list that shoko may not remember - despite the scale of it. you and choso agreed to take back your possessions – in this case yuki and shoko, who seemed to be standing on their own two feet only by some celestial force.
no need to to depict the end of the night, it was always the same when you went out with shoko. though something – or rather someone – during evening had told you it wasn't going to be the same ; that your tranquility was long gone, that you had now committed, whether you'd like it or not apparently, to be a fucking babysitter.
and he was fast with it, he didn't wait a week or so, he didn't even try to make it natural. the day after the party, choso went straight to talk to you, and the boy didn't even care if you were with your group of friends, the same that vehemently talked shit behind his back.
he didn't even try to wipe that smile off of his face, nor to calm the rosy tint on his cheeks that left little room for other interpretations. he didn't even try to cover for you when he gave you change for the milkshake you'd paid for – and God he didn't seem to understand that if you'd paid him it didn't mean you particularly wanted to give him the impression he owed you anything in return.
he also didn't notice that you didn't appreciate his refund, that you would have preferred to send him off, but that under the pressure from satoru and shoko, who were only viciously agreeable to him, you had to accept his exchange with a big smile.
you really didn't know whether his behavior was of the order of undisputed innocence or whether it was a means of publicly humiliating you.
in any case, the incident didn't go away, not with satoru and shoko around the corner, who were both just explaining the situation to suguru in the middle of lunch in the refectory.
"she left yuki and i alone with a bunch of freaks," shoko declares through the clattering sounds of the cantine while pointing her fork on you as she explains the evening, once again.
"you didn't seem to mind when i pulled you away from one that you were trying to dissect open with a knife." you insist, once again.
you stir the fuming food and distribute it homogeneously over your plate to let it cool down, ignoring shoko's words as she continues the story.
"it's kinda funny that you spent the evening with a guy who's a carbon copy of the type you say you hate." suguru intervenes and you sigh at the snarky remark. satoru keeps chewing on his food carelessly, clearly enjoying the roast you're subject to.
you shake your head at the statement, "spending an evening with someone and actually enjoying the time spent is different."
"mhm, clearly if i hadn't called you you'd still be making out with him right now.." shoko mocks and you swear you can see satoru's lips twitch in amusement.
"we just talked !" you half whisper, half scream, letting your food drop into your plate, causing your friends to shush you.
"c'mon just say you like him, we'll still be friends y'know?" you look deadpan at satoru, a look that doesn't require any words.
"i mean everyone knew he had a crush on you in high school, it wouldn't be surprising if it was still the case." suguru shrugs, you don't know if if he's being honest this time or if it's another joke. you choose to believe the latter.
you shake your head and look around the cantine to ease your mind from your shit friends, which doesn't seem to be the thing to do as satoru adds another weight to your already heavy shoulders.
"what? looking for your new pet? homeboy is probably hiddin' in his room right now. i mean, when doesn't he?"
you breathe out tensely, butchering your food with your cutlery as you clearly picture some detailed ways you'd like to treat the man in front of you.
"fucking assholes.."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
after what happened during the last couple of days you really tried taking measures. good measures. and it was kind of ironic how choso should've been the type to try and dodge any interaction with your friends, but now you were the one trying to sneak past him.
he was nice. you'll give him that.
but he was stupid. so fucking careless. and really naive because he surely did think an evening sipping on milkshake meant something along the lines of "will you marry me?"
anytime he spotted you in between classes he just had to walk in your direction. whether it was just small talk or not, he talked to you every. single. time.
but he was so nice. you couldn't just shove it in his face? could you? despite shoko's encouragement to drop him there's something that just.. didn't feel right. and may God forgive you, but you know this is certainly not the advent of your good morals.
though all of that clingy attitude really pissed you off, you did find yourself thinking about that evening and how Elvis Presley was so annoyingly being repeated in the background. how his eyes, despite their darkness and exhausted features, never ceased to display the most authentically pure emotions you've ever seen.
"i don't know i just, don't want you to think badly of me."
you sigh, heavily. some conflicted parts of you wanted to know more, an evening wasn't enough to just send him off right away, right? who was he? who does he claim to be? and the fact that you don't remember him, no, you can't remember him doesn't help either to your curiosity. because you did search through your yearbooks and to see his face didn't help you bring back lost memories.
shit maybe you just need someone to ring some senses to you but you also don't want shoko nor satoru to do it, as much as you hate to think about it they'll taint your vision more than they'll clear it out. in some ways choso was right ; their judgment might have their part to play in the way you think. in some ways only.
or maybe you're trying to blame your friends for your shitty behavior which only makes you feel ten times worse. you let out a grunt as you get up from your chair, going to the library to study with a clouded mind wasn't a good idea and even more at the end of the day.
failing to have a cigarette you can borrow from shoko right now, you choose to take a walk around campus. it's not the best sight but the air is far more fresh outside.
oh and how ironic was it when your feet led you upstairs to the dorms. it's not like you even planned your itinerary, it was like second nature to you, plus the air definitively felt a lot more breathable.
out of all the rumors you've heard, you knew at least one was true : choso was an orphan ; he stayed in the dorms right above the college structure.
and how absurd that was when you feet planted right outside his doorway – you can say thank you to the floor tenant files that didn't seem to care about the resident's personal information.
the thing missing though is your speech. you didn't have anything in mind. fuck what are you thinking? you're not even sure you'd want to see him at all, despite your evident location. before you could produce another stupid thought your fist met the door to knock twice.
it was about six seconds of wait that felt like half a minute as you just stood there outside. the door opened slightly ajar, and it reminded you of the first time – well not counting high school – that you saw him.
long strands of black hair dangled in front of the doorway before he stepped closer to fill the gap with his width. of course his eyes widened. they always do when they meet yours.
"oh, hey," he quickly looked over his shoulder, behind him and lowered his eyes to take a look at himself.
it was an agreeable sight, you will not deny. his hair were hanging loose at shoulder length, wearing only an oversized white t-shirt (was it oversized or just his actual stature ?) and gray sweatpants. you almost felt like diverting your eyes away as if you were prying on something you shouldn't see.
"hey."
silence.
"are you okay?" he stays still, swiping his tongue inside his lower lip while playing with his ring piercing you presume ; a habit of his you've noticed. you don’t really know if he's asking to be polite or if you genuinely look like you need help.
"mhm," you nod, "can i come in?"
"uhh, yeah" he takes another look behind him and you're starting to think maybe you came at the wrong time. "yeah, of course." he opens the door wider and steps aside, you enter and to your relief nothing crazy's going on.
the room is neatly organized to your surprise, not that you were imagining a slum, but you were expecting something more akin to the prototype of the homebody student. you avoid looking too much everywhere, you didn't come for that anyway.
choso retreats to his desk where he leans against it, his hands on the length of the edge to support his body.
"looks serious eh?" he escapes a small laugh, almost a scoff actually as he scratches his forearm and you suddenly want to leave the room because of how miserable you feel.
"we have to stop this.. thing here." you point to him then yourself.
you almost feel bad for him. almost, because of the way his hand previously on his other arm stops in the previous scratching motion, because of the way he only stares at you for a few solid seconds.
"what do you mean?"
"you know what i mean," you sigh "i don't even know why you suddenly want to talk to me anyway," you shake your head and look down. it's not even something you're blaming him for, you're really wondering why he'd want to talk to someone who plays on both sides with him.
"it's not.. that sudden. i've always wanted to talk to you." he tells you softly, "have i done something wrong?"
he's too nice with you it makes you audibly grunt.
"do you have a crush on me or something?"
silence again. a longer one this time. you didn't really mean to blurt it out like that, you'd envisioned something a little more subtle but frustration got the best of you.
his body shifts, his hands move closer to his body and he crosses his arms over his chest, tapping his biceps with his finger repeatedly. he stays silent.
"it's a yes or no question choso."
he pinches the bridge of his nose just where his mark is and breathes out a small "fuck".
"alright. it's ok if you don't wanna use your words, you certainly don't fail showing it to the whole fucking world anyway."
he takes a step forward rapidly, a single step but big enough to be closer to you nonetheless.
"i'm sorry, shit, i didn't know it would make you so upset. i'm sorry." he apologies. and you don't know if he realizes how upset he looks in the situation, he runs a hand through his hair in distress and you can see how agitated he is.
his face is right above yours, you don't really have to do anything but to look up to meet his panicked eyes. and it's a complete contrast how your eyebrows almost hurt from the frown while his face is contorted in worry.
and you'll blame your beating heart on your irritation and building up anger and definitely not because of his sole proximity. you try to commit to that thought at least.
"you're insufferable you know that?" you hug yourself as you readjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder.
he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek and looks away for a flitting second before bringing his eyes back on you, or your lips ; he's very indecisive poor boy doesn't know where to look when he has you this close to him.
"i.. i didn't know know how to tell you i'm sorry i just–"
"oh shut up,"
you practically throw yourself on him as it's the only way he'll eventually stop apologizing, one of your hands quickly wrap around his neck, to the base of his nape pulling him closer as your lips crash onto his. choso stumbles back at the contact and his hands reach instinctively on your waist for support, his body hits the desk where he stood prior and he escapes the faintest gasp at the harsh contact.
you wouldn't even have dreamed of doing this – fuck if shoko would come to know about this she'd probably laugh at you. but he's so gentle in his every moves, his every words, so naive about your motives it would be a damn shame if he knew what kind of crap person you really are. if the two of you really had to stop talking like you stated, your only wish would be to at least do this before.
choso's fingers grip more tightly on your waist, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your shirt practically playing with the hem of it. he pulls you closer and parts his lips to kiss you back avidly while your nails dig deeper around his nape at the feeling, before sliding them back along his jaw to orient his head at a better angle. you feel him exhale through his nose as you slow down your pace, slowly detaching your lips from his.
"y'taste good." he whispers against your lips, his forehead is practically touching yours and it's only now that you realize how much his features have changed within seconds. his eyes are blazed, breathless and fingers shaky around your waist. you'll blame the taste of your lips of the cherry gloss you're wearing – and he's wearing too now that his lips are shiny from it.
you're no better though, you swallow as you catch your breath, your heart is pounding in your chest so much you also hear it through the buzzing of your ears, coating the sounds around you.
"yeah? what is it, never kissed before?" you smile, you'll never get tired of teasing him, not when he always gives you the same look.
"not like that," he pants and smile back at you, a little smile that soon turns into a frown, "i.. shit, i wanna make you feel good. can i?" his voice is so low it makes your head spin.
"then do it," you kiss him once slowly and you feel him shudder at the new sensation, "make me feel good." you kiss him twice, even slower this time.
no need to say it twice for choso, if it's not you latching on him right now he definitely doesn't feel like backing down, he takes your answer for words and his hands find your cheeks instantly, cupping them as he puts a lot more pressure, making you step back. your hands lower down on his shoulders and your purse slip down your arm until it reaches the ground harshly ; not your priority number one right now.
he presses his body even closer to you and you don't need an explanatory drawing of what's happening down his pants as you feel his hard on pressed against you. you put your thigh forward, adding your own pressure against him and the moan that escapes his lips is enough to make your skin shiver and your panties tighter. much tighter.
still glued to each other, he guides you to his bed, just behind and it takes a couple steps back for your calves to hit the furniture, your body drops down the bed as you look up at him and you think he's about to slouch his own body on you, but he kneels down right before you instead.
you put your hands on the bed behind you to push yourself farther against the wall but to your – second – surprise he puts his hands flat on your knees.
"i need you right here," he soothes as he taps your knee lightly, making you stop in your movements. you don't know if he's about to do what you think he's about to do but your questions get quickly answered.
"can i?" he asks as he flicks his eyes onto your skirt, asking permission to touch it you guess. you nod eagerly and he leans back slightly to take your mary janes off instead, right foot, then to the left foot so ever carefully and putting them aside on the floor. you watch him and notice how steady and focused he looks despite his torso heaving up and down rapidly, you see it.
he straighten up on his knees and the sight has you gulping down, you're on his bed, he's on the ground just right in front of you, his eyes scan your face thoroughly you almost feel overwhelmed by it. your skirt gets pulled down easily, oh but so slowly, you prop yourself up on your elbows to make it easier for him.
"so pretty." he breathes out, he discards the piece of clothing on the floor and places both of his hands on your hips to bring your body closer to him as he easily glides you.
he leans in and his face is only inches away from your crotch, he glances at you before returning back on your clothed cunt. his thumb circles the hem of your panties as if he's admiring the sewing method and your breath hitches when his thumb drops a little lower, down where you clit hides beneath the fabrics.
"don't have all day, choso" you gulped, your hands bawl into tight fists in apprehension.
"okay–okay." he coos and immediately grant your wish ; he pulls your panties down and you're now bottom naked on his bed. it gives you a real reason to be embarrassed for sure because you didn't really "plan" on being that drenched from a single quick make out session. and the more he stares at your exposed cunt the more you grow impatient.
"choso.." you try to warn him but it comes out as a whine instead. he shifts as he gets closer to the edge of the bed, he wraps his hands under your legs to grab onto your thighs firmly.
"gonna make you feel good ok?"
"jus' do it–" you choke on your own words when you feel his tongue on you. a single lap and you're already panting in the room like a mad woman, "ffuck." you whine and your hand reaches immediately down to get a hold of something – his hair in this case which is being in his vision doesn't stop him nonetheless to complete his mission – as it's the only way you'd call it due to how devoted he looks between your legs.
he gives you a few more laps, down from your entrance to the very top on your clit, and he's diverse in his moves you'll give him that – he goes either way from the right side, then the left side, until he decides to flick his tongue against your pussy from side to side this time. you'd honestly thought the man would go down on you as his first time, his first experiment but it looks like you're the one experimenting for the first time his tongue skills – that, you don't miss to point out.
"shit- where the fuck did you learn to do that?" you pant, you push his hair back the best you can though it still falls atop of your pussy, giving you extra tingles on the way.
the sounds are purely gross, the room is nothing but a space for filth, hearing liquids collides whether it'd be his saliva on you or your slick on him. doesn't help from your restrained moans nor from his own whimpers that resonate lowly against your skin – it's almost as if he's being louder than you are.
he props your legs up onto his own shoulders when he leans down further into your pussy, getting better access while your thighs are in the air, tensing and quivering at each touch.
you start to seriously lose it when you feel pressure on your clit, getting even more stimulated your head starts to feel dizzy ; his thumb brushes against your folds to gather your juices before going up to your clit while his tongue starts to push down your entrance.
he mumbles something but you can't understand either from the pounding in your ears or because he factually has his mouth buried in your cunt.
"you feel so– fuck!" you almost cry out when he accelerates the pace on your clit "so fuckin' good shit," and before you get hold of the situation your muscles contract, your thighs wraps even tighter around choso and you're not really in the mindset to care if you're hurting him right now when you're nothing more than a trembling mess under him.
when you release the grip you have around his head with your legs, he slowly backs down and wipes under his chin with the back of his hand, breathing heavily as if he had just come flooding back from the water after a long dive. the sight has your brain rebooting from the start, simply short circuited.
"t'was okay?"
you almost feel indignation for his own self when you look at him in disbelief, "okay? thought i was losing my mind over there," you slowly sit up as you look at him with heavy lids. you probably look like you got run over.
"want me to get something to–"
he stops once he sees you getting your top over your shoulders, taking it off and throwing on the chair near his desk. you get closer to the edge of the bed, still sit up on it as you cage him between your legs since he's still kneeling on the ground.
"well.. i guess you have other plans..?" he murmurs under his breath, he doesn't even try to hide the fact he's staring, the man is practically glued to you like when kids stand too close to a tv.
"you're a perceptive one aren't you?" you leaned down to slip your fingers under his shirt, near his hips to take it off too, "unless you don't want to?" you whisper, stopping your movements to get his approval before starting anything but oh don't you dare take your hands off of him because he'll put them back on their original place.
"no–no, i do. i want you." his eyes meets yours and it's as if repentance was just knocking at your door and you don't know if you're willing to open the door because of how good he ate your pussy or because you really feel like you should do it.
"good."
you knew choso was introverted, a little shy even, the kind of men to be a little prudish even, the ones who'd rather stay indoors, the ones who's rather not get touched by anybody, even less when those places are under their clothes. you thought he was that kind of man when you'd first met him.
you got fooled. once when he mastered the technique of his tongue on you a few minutes ago that got your jaw dislocating in pleasure. but twice now that his shirt is past his torso, up to get through his head and you see yet another pair of silver jewelry. one on each of his nipples.
and your reaction is suited honestly, you just drop your arms and leave him struggling with the shirt on his own as his head is still tangled inside of it, you swear under your breath as you look at the two shiny buds. and maybe he did it as a distraction, getting two silvery eyes up his breast might be one hell of a surprise when you're trying to look at his whole torso ; but even in that case you wouldn't get why on earth you'd need to be distracted from his upper body, because what a fucking view.
once you see choso's head pop out of his t-shirt you're so turned on you're scared if you move you'll just leave the biggest pond of your slick on his covers ; you're feeling genuinely embarrassed to say the least.
"come here, get on your back." you tap on your left to show him the way on his own bed, he executes your demand without much more convincing. he lays down where his pillow rest, propping his head up a little as he still supports his body on his forearms, watching you.
which is not such a bad thing as it gets his whole upper body tensing up from the position, and you realize you got fooled thrice because of how defined his body is, muscles tracing his skin in the prettiest way.
you crawl closer to him and take his sweatpants off, throwing them along with the other remaining of clothes on the ground.
you straddle choso, only in his boxers now and he's always on the lookout for your next move, eyes traveling along every part of your body standing so close to him. you lean in to kiss him again, a simple kiss this time, not heated, nor passionate as you'd intended earlier, almost too intimate to your liking. you feel him relax under you, no, melt. he melts under your kiss, his back rests totally flat on his bed now and his hands travel along you jaw, touching you like porcelain if it were to break.
"it's only fair i return the favor, right?" you tell him as you lean near his ear, and if you chose to ignore the bulge in his underwear when you got him out off his pants you're certain you can't now. it's entirely poking through the fabrics to lean oh so perfectly against your entrance you have to fight back a moan just at the feeling. how embarrassing.
"fuck, please do." he moans, his hands get back on your hips slowly, pressing his fingers into your skin lightly. though you'd rather take some of your time, if you're in this might as well do it right.
you kiss your way down his body, from his lips, to his jaw, on his neck a few times — just because you love watching his adam's apple bobble up every time he gulps when you touch him — near his collarbones, on his torso and why not on the twins piercings he's got on it too.
at the contact of your tongue swirling around his nipples choso instantly throws his head back on his pillow, earning a deep breath from him along with a "fuckk" he couldn't bite back. at the same time your hips start to grind, slowly, cautiously, you wouldn't want to get off on his boxers now would you?
your hands reach down his boxers, under it to grab his dick but... maybe you got fooled fourth time. or maybe the saying is right, the quietest got the biggest and he's a living proof of the statement, you can attest. you break the contact on his sensitive buds and sit up correctly to look at it lay flat on his stomach, curved and strained in its own blood flow. you really have to close your mouth to not drool on it directly and you mumble something unintelligible.
his hands rest on your thighs, they try to guide you forward, they really do and you let them. you bring your hips forward, pussy gliding – as it's the only way it would be described, you're soaked – on his dick, just slipping through your wet folds, enough to mold him on the way forward, then all the way back when you return to your position. you let your hands fall on his abs, you're not even tired, you just need the support right now or else you're afraid you'll just collapse right onto him.
"God, you feel so good," you whine, grinding slowly along his cock and you honestly don't know how he's handling it down there 'cause it feels too fucking good for you.
"n-need you right now," he painfully gulps, he looks at the friction with a frown and he lowers his head back on the pillow, "shit..." he whimpers, such a wobbly voice yet he's not even inside of you thus far. you don't know who's winning the embarrassing contest but he might win over you if you keep giving him good pussy.
"so sweet. you're too fuckin' sweet y'know that?" you praise and choso's hands come directly to grab at your tits, cupping the roundness of them with both hands as he massages them slowly, pinching your nipple between his index and his thumb.
you're done with being patient actually as it is your cue to wrap your fingers around the head of his cock. you brush your thumb over his tip and his whole body jerks off from the touch, you slide your whole hand down the base of it as you pull yourself up on your knees.
you thought you'd reached the epitome of pleasure when he was between your legs just now, and you don't know what other seventh heaven you landed on when he entered you, but it was just as similar.
the head of his cock has just slipped through and you're already full of it, full of him. and you have no doubt when you look at choso that he's feeling it too. you both moan at the new feeling, a feeling you were too puerile to treat with such disdain when you looked at him, a feeling you'd never come to know if he didn't slightly hurt your ego with his kindness.
"holy shit, so fucking tight f'me.." he purrs through the whole process, his hands help you go down, steadily and slowly at your pace when more than half of his cock has sunk into you. your legs shake slightly when you've reached the end, you start to bounce up and down lazily, hearing every gushing sounds of both of your slick as they disperse through your organs.
he can't help it, you don't know if it's because you've teased him so much pior that he can't hold it in anymore, but the grip on your hips gets tighter, the bouncing up and down his cock gets messier, and even though your thighs start to feel numb you soon understand that choso has your back. his hips starts to buck back into you to meet your hips halfway, skin to skin as they collide rapidly.
"f–fuck, choso, you're gonna make m–"
"i know, i know." he soothes, you lean into him, chest to chest as you put your hands on his shoulders. and you can't help but be extremely grateful right now as you're practically laying down on him, he's fucking right into you with the help of his hands pressing down your hips as he moans in your ears softly.
"wanna make this pretty pussy mine– fuck. wanna make you mine." he whimpers and you can hear the way his throat tightens that he's close. you wouldn't wanna lie saying you're not – to be honest you've been wanting to come as soon as you hoped on his thighs.
you don't know if it's the heat of the moment, because you're taking his dick so fucking perfectly inside of you that the thought of being with him doesn't really repulse you that much, for it actually seems pleasant enough to imagine it.
"fuck–fuck-i'm gonna cum!"
and you sincerely hope nobody is in their dorms right now because you're sure the whole floor knows what their nerdy resident is doing to some resentful student on campus. he's so vocal you wouldn't have it any other way, specially when every each one of his moans reach your cunt before your ears.
you feel your legs tremble and your nails dig deeper into his skin when you reach your second orgasm, and not one for the weak ones as your pussy clenches so tightly you think you're sucking choso's dick whole with the suction. your hips get pulled up on spot when choso releases his own shot in between your bodies, his dick springing out from where it was caged. you still tremble on him when he breathes heavily, coming down to his high.
you both stay silent for a couple of seconds and reality hits you back.
"you're too good to me." he murmurs as he wipes some of the mascara under your eyes with his thumb, you head is still near the crook of his neck, you don't move.
oh only if he knew.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
"can you believe nerdy boy got laid?"
you turn to shoko almost too rapidly, "what?"
"i know, who would do that.."
you don't say anything. you don't really wanna say anything for now, but you know shoko isn't saying that just to make the conversation when she waits for an answer. a valid one.
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©nabitsun !
thank you for reading :D
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flowerandblood · 6 hours
Text
The Fall from the Heavens (26)
[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: mention of sex, incest, smut, angst, swearing ]
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[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
Jace remembered perfectly the day his little sister was born. Laenor had led him into his mother's chamber that day, holding his hand, saying that she was very tired and they couldn't spend much time with her − he had insisted on seeing her because he was delighted to finally have a sibling, a brother to play with and be friends with.
His mother, the future queen, smiled softly at the sight of him, her white hair loose and in disarray, her face red from sweat and exertion.
She held out her hand to him and he hugged her, peering curiously at the infant she held clutched to her chest.
"He's so tiny." He said in disbelief, brushing the baby's finger with his own − he smiled when he saw the baby's hand clench into a small fist with its quiet purr.
"She. You have a little sister." He heard his mother's amused voice; he furrowed his brow at her words and rose, angry and disappointed.
"− wait, comrade −" Laenor called out after him, but he refused to look at her.
She was a disappointment to him.
For the first few months, he had pretended not to hear her cries or squeals from their mother's chamber − even though Rheanyra had spoken to him and encouraged him to meet her, he had refused to do so, recognising that no little girl interested him.
"It was supposed to be a boy." He muttered regretfully while playing with his large, wooden, black dragon, pretending that the stacks of books were the great hills over which he flew on Balerion. His mother smiled at his words and combed her hand through his dark curls.
"That is what the gods have decided. She may be your future wife."
Jace put down his toy, looking at her in surprise, not understanding what she meant.
"Am I going to have to kiss her?" He asked in disgust, recalling the stories Laenor sometimes read to him before bed, in which great knights freed beautiful women from the paws of monsters, only to fall in love with them later and be bestowed a kiss by them.
His mother smiled involuntarily.
"Don't think about such things until you're a grown man. No kissing for now." She giggled, pinching his cheek. He smiled lazily seeing her warm expression, the motherly love that beat from her.
That night he went to the chamber where she slept for the first time; he leaned over the cradle, glancing at her plump little figure wrapped in a white robe and a small headpiece. Her eyes opened suddenly and he was terrified that she would burst into tears − she, however, merely clutched her small feet and began to rock from side to side, looking at him curiously.
He smiled involuntarily at this sight and tickled her belly with his finger. Her squeal and loud giggle answered him, her eyes lit up in joy, her little body all the way up in euphoria. He laughed seeing this, repeating his gesture, thinking she was like a small animal, a puppy or a kitten.
He decided that at the end of the day she wasn't so bad and stopped pretending she didn't exist.
Until Luke was born he had treated her as if she were a boy, driving their mother to despair every time they both returned sodden with mud and sand after another battle with Aegon and Aemond.
He had always felt that his uncles disliked him, and even though they were of a similar age to him, he did not feel comfortable in their company − nor could he hide his jealousy at the sight of their snow-white hair, proof of who they were.
Looking at his father and mother, he could not comprehend why his hair was not that shade.
Rhaenyra explained to him that it was surely because of the Baratheon blood that also flowed through their veins, and although he was disappointed, the sight that he was not the only one, that his sister and Luke looked similar to him, comforted him.
The first time Aegon laughed sincerely at what he said occurred when he called his sister a hamster. The comparison came to his mind when she took air in her mouth and furrowed her brow − he uttered it thoughtlessly, and his uncle burst out laughing and patted him on the back.
"− gods, you're right − and those big eyes of hers −" He sneered, and although he saw that his sister lowered her gaze, embarrassed, he continued, eager to hear more words of praise from his lips.
"− she has just as much sense too −" He added, seeing his uncle throw him an amused, mocking look suggesting that he agreed with him.
He felt a squeeze in his heart when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that his sister had turned and walked away, passing through the cloisters towards their quarters without even giving him another glance.
He turned around and noticed to his surprise that he was not the only person to notice her leaving − his other uncle, Aemond, led her away with his eyes and then threw him a look full of despise, from which he felt discomfort.
He pressed his lips together at the thought that he was the heir to the throne and, unlike him, had his own dragon.
Who was he to look down on him with such superiority?
He decided to remind him of that and share that thought with his brother.
Aegon's involvement in their little joke surprised even him − his uncle thought it was an excellent idea. He argued that his younger brother was too sullen and serious for his age, that he was sapient and could use a little lesson.
As he listened to Aegon convince him that they had found a dragon for him, as he saw the hint of hope and the shy, embarrassed smile of excitement on his uncle's face, he felt for a moment that perhaps they should not do this.
However, it was too late to retreat − Luke ran deeper into the cave, and came out a moment later, leading by a rope a large pig to which they had attached self-made wooden wings early on.
"Behold! The Pink Dread!"
He saw that his uncle froze and turned pale as they burst out laughing, swallowing this humiliation with difficulty − his eyes glazed over and reddened, his gaze again blank and distant.
He knew they had broken him.
That same day he mentioned it to his sister, and her reaction angered him.
"You are cruel." She said resentfully.
Which side was she on?
"He's forever looking down on us because he has white hair. He's constantly making excuses and bragging about what he's read in those silly dusty books of his." He snorted, playing between his fingers with the gold coin their grandfather had brought him from another of his trips overseas.
He blinked when his sister simply rose from her seat and walked out, leaving him in a state of shock and displeasure − he decided, however, that these were just normal female emotions and would surely pass her until supper.
He loved his father, but he also greatly valued and respected Ser Harwin Strong. He was a stocky, tall, handsome man who could fight very well. He often spoke to him or helped him practice by sharing stories of his duels in tournaments and hunts.
He thought then that he would like to be like him one day.
He knew that he was a close confidant of his mother and often saw them together, however, his father seemed not to mind, so he considered this condition perfectly normal and did not bother.
After a few weeks, the will of their King fell upon them like a bolt from the heavens, and their mother informed them of it during one of their suppers together.
"− your grandfather and our King has decided today that, to strengthen our lineage, we will betroth your sister to your uncle, Prince Aemond − let us raise our cups for this −" She said, glancing towards her daughter, his sister smiling broadly at her words, happy.
What?
"− what do you mean? − why? −" He asked, feeling discomfort in his stomach and a cold sweat on his back.
They wanted to gift him his sister as a consolation because he didn't have a dragon of his own?
"− your grandfather wants peace to reign in the kingdom after his death − such a marriage in his eyes will strengthen our family and our bonds between each other − of course, the marriage will only happen when your sister is of the right age −" She said calmly, looking at her daughter with tenderness, taking an unruly strand of her dark hair from her face.
"− did you agree? −" He asked his little sister in disbelief, and she nodded quickly, as if it was the happiest day of her life.
"− yes − I'm very pleased − I'm fond of our uncle −" She said quickly, putting a piece of roast on her plate, describing how worried she was that she would have to marry someone much older than herself.
He stared blankly ahead, clenching his hands into fists, bitter and disappointed.
Had she really never considered him as her husband?
After all, he was her elder brother; in their lineage such marriages were obvious.
He dared not, however, defy the will of the King himself.
His resentment towards his uncle increased with each passing week seeing that, against his wishes, he was not being harsh and unpleasant to his sister − on the contrary, he seemed to have softened in her company, his face, though still pathetically proud, also expressing curiosity and affection.
He felt rage in his heart at the thought that they could really have wished to bring about this marriage.
However, the cup of bitterness overflowed the moment he saw his sister kiss him.
They were both too certain that no one could see them − he watched them from the corridor through a window overlooking the library.
His sister was standing by the bookcase, saying something to him, and he stood up and walked lazily over to her. He rose on his tiptoes and apparently reached for a book that stood too high for her. She smiled broadly as he handed it to her, her hand traveling to his shoulder.
He swallowed hard as her lips pressed against his, and as soon as she pulled away, her uncle grasped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her again, deeper and longer.
He fled to his chamber and burst into tears with rage, dropping all the objects standing on his table, disappointed and humiliated that although he was to become King in the future, someone else was taking away something that in his mind was his right.
He never wondered what kind of love he had bestowed upon her and whether it was the form of affection that usually bound married couples; he knew that he would care for her and be good to her and that was enough for him.
She was his sister and he would never hurt her.
She, however, looked only to her uncle and it was to him that she gave her heart and mind.
He didn't know what he felt when Luke slashed his face that night when their uncle stole Vhagar − horror, shame, satisfaction and relief all mingled in his mind into one.
On the one hand, he was overjoyed that he had taken back what in his mind should have been his, on the other he was embarrassed and distraught at the confirmation of his fears that had long smouldered in his mind.
It was Harwin Strong who was their father.
To his seed he owed his dark curls.
He was a bastard.
He tried to turn his thoughts away from considering what this meant for them, focusing on the fact that his sister would surely no longer want her uncle for a husband, and their paths would part.
This is exactly what happened.
Still, what he had planned did not happen, and his mother decided to change her plan and marry her off to their cousin, Lord Arryn's son, to strengthen her support in the North of the kingdom. Again, he felt a wave of disappointment, however, this time he was not so jealous − he knew that she had no love for their cousin and that he was certainly no threat to her.
"What's my little sister doing?" He asked with amusement, startling her completely, sitting bent over her desk − she quickly grabbed the parchment she had just been writing something on and tucked it under the table, looking up at him with wide eyes.
"Are you writing a letter to someone?" He sneered, raising an eyebrow, standing over her with a smile. She swallowed hard and looked down, thoughtful.
"I write poetry. But I don't want anyone to read it." She muttered, and he sighed quietly and nodded, acknowledging that he wasn't going to force her to do anything.
"Would you like to go for a walk along the beach? It's beautiful weather." He encouraged her; she, however, shook her head, no longer bestowing a single glance on him.
"No, forgive me. I'm tired."
He pressed his lips together at her rejection, which he had faced again and again since they had moved to Dragonstone.
Even though he tried to get close to her, to understand her and comfort her, she still didn't want him.
He was ashamed to speak of his feelings with his mother or stepfather, much less Luke, however, to his surprise, his closest confidant turned out to be Baela.
"I don't understand her. It seems to me that she still misses him, even though he has certainly forgotten her by now. I have heard that he is a cold, vain, self-obsessed man. He's always been that way, treating her only as an object, a consolation prize. Now that he has a dragon he doesn't need her." He said angrily − his cousin sighed heavily at his words, looking at him with understanding.
"When people part in anger and don't close a chapter, it's hard for them to move on. Perhaps she knew him in a way that is unknown to us. He's always been withdrawn into himself." She muttered disapprovingly, fiddling with the wine cup in her hand, gazing thoughtfully into the blazing fire.
He smiled at the thought that he was certain she recalled the impetuosity with which her uncle had punched her in the face with his fist that night when he lost an eye. Baela looked at him, raising her eyebrows.
"What's that look?" She asked and kicked him under the table with her foot. He giggled at her reaction and shook his head, lowering his gaze to her fingers.
"I would have been better for her. I would have really cared for her. Maybe I wouldn't have given her everything she needed, but at least with me she would have been safe." He said with a tiredness from which his companion sighed heavily. He lifted his gaze to her as her hand grasped his and squeezed it.
"I know." She replied softly.
He swallowed hard, feeling a pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen as he saw her soft, misty gaze, feeling her warm thumb stroke his palm. He grunted as he felt his manhood pulsate in his breeches at the thought that, indeed, his cousin was a very fine woman.
He had always liked her sharp tongue and confidence.
"Have you ever lain in bed with a woman?" She asked him suddenly, and he drew in the air loudly, shocked, feeling that his cheeks had certainly turned red with shame.
He didn't know what to answer.
He didn't want to humiliate himself with words that he had absolutely no experience in these matters knowing that she had a more liberated approach to these affairs.
Daemon, as her father, had expressed no dissent, so who was he to lecture her?
She sighed quietly, seeing his reaction, or rather lack thereof, and rose from her seat, turning her back to him, gripping the ties of her bodice with her hands.
"I need you to help me."
Baela was a calm and patient teacher − it seemed to him that she took great satisfaction in his lack of understanding of what she was actually doing to him as she sank down on his swollen manhood again and again with a moan of delight − her brown naked skin glistened wonderfully in the light of the blazing fire, her white curls falling over her shoulders in disarray, her full lips parted in obvious desire from which he felt his fulfilment approaching embarrassingly fast.
She made sure he didn't fill her with his seed, letting him instead come down on her abdomen with his low moan of pleasure, his length pulsating and twitching in her hand for a while longer. He licked his lower lip dry with emotion, looking at her in disbelief, a soft, shy smile on her face.
"− you're beautiful −" He whispered, and she giggled under her breath and kissed him in a way from which he felt hot in his heart.
She made him forget, at least for a moment, what was happening around them, finding in her both friend and lover, the confidante of all his secrets.
She was not jealous of his sister − on the contrary, he had the impression that she understood the source of his anger and disappointment, herself having no intention of explaining to him what she was doing and with whom.
It seemed to him that their relationship and its freedom suited them both.
Of course, they both knew that in the end they would experience a marriage that would inevitably be purely political, and they understood what that entailed.
Then their grandfather was injured on one of his expeditions, and Vaemond Velaryon challenged his younger brother's rights to the throne of Driftmark.
Knowing the truth about his parentage and at the same time refusing to accept it, he became enraged, sad and depressed at the same time − Baela's words of comfort that they would find a solution and not allow themselves to be intimidated did not reassure him.
Once again, his uncle and his family were trying to take their inheritance from them.
His return to King's Landing was a shock to him; to his disappointment, he felt like an intruder there, and it seemed to him that was exactly how he was perceived by everyone.
He felt a drop of cold sweat run down his neck, his stomach twisting with discomfort when he saw his uncle in the distance, wielding his sword as if it weighed nothing, easily defeating Criston Cole, pressing its blade against his neck.
He was tall, muscular, his long white hair, proof that he was in fact a Targaryen partly tied at the back of his head with a black ribbon, his jaw long and sharply defined, his gaze wild and cold, terrifying.
He smiled mockingly at the sight of them, playing with the hilt of his sword between his fingers as if he wanted to devour them.
He felt ashamed at the thought that he was terrified.
And then his uncle spotted their sister in the distance − his heart beat harder at the sight of their expressions.
It seemed to him that this reunion years later had caused them pain, as they both froze, breathing heavily, looking at each other as if there was no one else around.
His uncle hummed under his breath and turned away, nodding at Ser Criston, taking another swing with his sword.
Even though he hadn't cared what happened to her for so many years, even though he had humiliated her at supper by calling her Lady Strong, she had confessed in front of everyone that her place was with him.
He looked at her in disbelief, wondering what she was doing, why she had stooped to courting him when it was obvious that her uncle had neither respect nor affection for her.
After a moment, he heard his uncle's cold, trembling, deep voice.
"So it is decided, father. We will marry."
"How could our mother agree to this? How could she let her stay there?" He asked furiously, circling around his chamber in Dragonstone; Baela sighed heavily, turning her head away. She looked at him finally, hesitation in her gaze.
"I didn't tell you because I knew it would only enrage you and you wouldn't leave her alone." She said tiredly − he halted in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder, feeling his heart pounding like mad.
"You didn't tell me about what?" He asked dryly, frustrated and concerned.
Baela let out a loud breath, shaking her head. They were now betrothed, and although he thought they both seemed to have accepted their families' decisions with relief, he couldn't rejoice.
"My father told me that she had been sending him letters all these years. That the same night we arrived in the Red Keep she spent the night in his chamber."
He stared at her dully, feeling that it made him sick to his stomach, as if he were about to vomit, his face taking on an expression of disgust.
So she didn't write any poetry then, he thought with regret and pain.
"− how could she do this − expose our mother to humiliation and gossip −"
"Jace. She never stopped loving him. I think she's naive too, but you'd have to be blind not to see that she never really accepted it all. I don't know what I think about it myself." She admitted, running her hand over her face.
"You don't know what you think about it? I'll tell you. Our uncle will play with her and take advantage of her, and then he will put her up to ridicule and hand her over to us. He won't marry her." He growled angrily, burying his face in his hands, wondering how she could be so foolish, how she could believe that he had sincere intentions about her.
"The matter of succession is on a knife-edge. Perhaps our grandfather is right? A union between our mother and the Queen could really ease the situation." She muttered, clearly looking for anything comforting in the situation, which he completely failed to understand.
Had everyone around him lost their minds?
"My uncle who thinks we are bastards is supposed to alleviate the situation? He will never agree to let me sit on the throne and I am supposed to give him my sister?" He asked in disbelief; Baela tightened her lips at his words, frustrated.
"You speak of her as if she were an object. It's always been that way."
He felt an unpleasant shiver run down his spine at her words, every muscle in his body tensing like a string.
"What do you mean?" He asked coolly.
Baela sighed heavily, clearly trying not to explode and form her thoughts so as to be honest but not cruel.
"You think she was born to fulfil your whims? That the fact that you are her eldest brother gives you precedence to lie in bed with her?"
He felt himself blush with shame at her question, shocked.
Discomfort and arousal surged through his lower abdomen at the thought.
"Do you think that's what I mean? I'm just trying to…"
"Yes, Jace. I've never witnessed you ask her how she feels, what she needs. I am fond of you, but you are a selfish boy, not a man."
He felt ashamed at the thought as tears gathered under his eyelids at her words, a terrible, cold shudder shook his body, his heart began to pound like mad.
You are a selfish boy, not a man.
Her words so offended him that he stopped speaking to her despite her pleas, and then the thing he feared most happened.
The King was dead, Aegon had stolen her mother's throne and his uncle had imprisoned his sister.
They had made a mockery of them.
He had been right all along, but no one listened to him.
"Forgive me, Jace." Baela muttered, placing her hand on his shoulder. She knelt beside him, sighing heavily, laying her head on his thigh, and he involuntarily stroked her hair, feeling superiority, feeling strength.
He was going to fight for his mother's crown and bring his sister home.
In order to do so, at the behest of their mother, he flew to Winterfell to ask Cregan Stark for his support in this cause, reminding him of the oath his father had taken before her.
The North seemed to him a beautiful and wild place, so far from what he knew − the snow-covered hills, the austere fortresses of dark stone, the robes that looked only grey, black or brown around him gave him a sense of modesty and space.
Lord Stark's nature appeared to be similar to his, and the few days he had spent in his company hunting and riding horses had actually made him feel good − he felt like someone worthy with him, a true heir to the throne, not a bastard.
It was this feeling that, seeing the young Lady Snow from afar, he allowed himself to be enchanted by her charms and lay in bed with her.
Like a real man.
When he arrived back in Dragonstone he learned that Luke had just returned from Storm's End and that he had seen their sister.
"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." Growled Daemon, shocked and horrified by his naivety, burying his face in his hands, unable to look at him.
"Daemon." Their mother rebuked him, all pale, her hand clenched on her womb. "What happened next?"
"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." His brother muttered, and he felt his heart stop, he and Baela looked at each other quickly.
She had tried to take her own life.
Because of this bastard, his sister could be dead.
His hands clenched into fists at that thought.
"And then?" Pressed Daemon in an impatient voice.
"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." He mumbled and he slammed his fist on the table, feeling fury and rage boiling up inside him.
"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He growled red with anger − Daemon threw him a single, drawn-out look.
"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He continued, pretending not to have heard his outburst.
"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." Luke said. Daemon sighed heavily and leaned over, placing his hands on the top of the stone table, thoughtful.
"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."
Baela followed him into his chamber in an attempt to calm him down.
"How can he want to pact with that fucking traitor? His brother stole my mother and his wife's throne!" He shouted in her face − his betrothed dropped her hands in a gesture of helplessness.
"Since he let them meet, maybe there is something to it. My father knows what he's doing, I trust him. I believe he will bring her home."
"You're naive. You always have been."
"And you're vain. You always have been."
He pressed his lips together at her words, feeling his heart pounding like mad, feeling like something was about to explode inside him.
"I met a woman in Winterfell who I took to my bed." He muttered finally, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
Part of him wanted to hurt her, and part of him wanted to be honest with her.
That was what they had promised each other.
Baela laughed at his words in disbelief and shook her head − he had a feeling he saw a shadow of regret in her gaze, but he wasn't sure if it was because of his confession or because she understood why he said it now.
"If you wish, I'll relate to you how I spent my time in your absence, but I'm not sure you'll be able to look into this guard's face afterwards." She sneered, lifting her chin high, looking at him defiantly. He felt a wave of hot shame and anger surge through his body.
"After we're married…are you going to continue this?" He asked uncertainly and she cocked her head to the side.
"If you are not faithful to me, I will not remain faithful to you. You are dear to me, but don't think I will cry for you. Certainly not like your sister cried for her uncle. Part of me has always envied her that she experienced such a deep feeling in her life even if it burned her from the inside for so many years." She said with a kind of regret from which he felt a squeeze in his stomach, but he answered nothing to her words.
He knew that they did not love each other.
They were close and felt comfortable together, but they weren't mad about each other.
He believed it just had to be this way.
He waited impatiently along with his mother and the others gathered for Daemon to return from his meeting with their uncle, simultaneously terrified and angry that they were speaking with traitors instead of fighting.
When they heard the squeal of Caraxes in the distance his mother stood up, pale, holding her hand on her womb again, as if remembering the time when she had carried her only daughter under her heart.
His other sister had died before she was even truly born.
When Daemon stepped into the main hall everyone was already waiting for him; he sighed heavily, placing his Dark Sister on the table top, folding his hands in front of him, straightening.
"Your daughter married her uncle of her own free will. My nephew has conveyed to me that his brother-cunt will relinquish the throne he stole from you if it is your daughter's children and his who become heirs to the throne or, in the event they do not conceive a son, ours − Viserys and Aegon. He demands the exclusion of Jace, Luke and Joffrey from the succession." He said dispassionately. He looked at his mother seeing that she had run out of words.
"− mother − this is −"
"− leave us − all of you −" She ordered.
"− mother − this is my inheritance − mine −" He began, but felt Baela's grip on his arm.
"− Jace − that's enough −"
He sat in his chamber thinking only of the fact that his mother was just contemplating whether or not to agree to deprive him of his inheritance, to acknowledge that he was her bastard despite the fact that he was her firstborn son, despite the fact that Laenor Velaryon had acknowledged him as his heir.
"− Jace −" Baela muttered, seeing his condition.
"− leave −" He said. He heard her sigh heavily as she approached him with a rustle of her gown, kneeling at his feet.
"− Jace − I'm on your side − I always have been − don't you see me as your companion? − your friend? − your lover? −" She asked with a pained expression that startled him. He lowered his hands and looked at her − his palm rose to her cheek, which he stroked with a tender, slow gesture.
"− you resent me − you don't see me as a man, but as a child −"
"− that is not true −"
"− I don't want your pity −"
"− Jace −"
"− you were right − I don't want to frustrate you and I understand all the accusations about me that you've made − my whole life I've been trying to be someone I'm not −" He finally replied, his betrothed's fingers grasping his hand and squeezing it.
"− that's what I mean − stop pretending − be honest with yourself −"
"− do you want me to be honest? − very well then − my mother has never asked my opinion on any important matters − Daemon treats me as if I am an imbecile and mocks me − I am both a first-born son and a bastard − my uncle wants to deprive me of everything, he wants me to be a nobody and why? − because when I was a child I gave him a pig? − god, I regret it, it was a cruel joke − I regret that he lost an eye, I regret that a dragon didn't hatch from his egg − but even if I had said that, what good would it have done − he would have laughed at me saying I am a weak cunt −" He muttered and burst out sobbing like a small child, hiding his face in his hands. Baela embraced him and cuddled his face into her oil-scented neck, stroking his hair.
"− I am grateful to you − I am grateful to you that you are honest with me − I am grateful to you that you have never lied to me −" She whispered and he wept softly, tightening his hands on the material of her gown feeling that the closeness of her body brought him solace.
"− I am grateful to you too − forgive me for not being what you deserve −" He mumbled, sniffling loudly, trying to calm the convulsions of his body and his ragged breathing.
"− I forgive you − I forgive you and ask for your forgiveness −"
When his mother came to his chamber that evening, he knew what decision she had made even before she opened her mouth.
"− Jace −" She began, and he turned his head away, panting with rage, burning tears of humiliation under his eyelids.
"− after all this − after all you've sacrificed − are you going to let them win? −"
"− how would I be a just Queen if I thought only of myself instead of the good of the kingdom? − any other solution will mean war with our own kin − is there anything else more displeasing to the gods? −" She muttered in a breaking voice in which he could clearly hear that she herself was suffering immensely.
"− you let them dictate their terms −" He said in disbelief, looking at her at last. His mother pressed her lips together at his question.
"− no − I intend to impose my own demands on them – none of them will be allowed to sit on the throne − none of them will wear the crown − they will be rulers-regents until their son, the rightful heir, is born −" She replied, forcing herself to be calm.
"− and if no son is born to them? − will you exclude me from the succession then? − your first-born son? −" He mumbled in pain, hitting his chest with his palm. Rhaenyra drew in air loudly, her eyes red from tears of pain and grief.
"− it's my fault − not yours − me and Laenor really tried, but −"
"− I don't want to hear it − I won't listen to it − why did you let me come into the world? −"
"− Jace −" She mumbled − he heard the rustling of her gown as she took a step towards him, but he held up his hand showing that he didn't want her to come near him.
"− I will leave Dragonstone to you − it belongs to me and I can give it to whomever I wish − no one will challenge your rights in this case, you will finally be able to live the life you deserve −"
"− I was meant to be King −" He hissed, and she swallowed hard.
"− as was I − but perhaps we are not meant to be − pride steps before a fall −" She said drily, her chin lifted high.
"− what does Daemon have to say in the matter? −" He asked lowly.
"− he is furious, but he will do as I command − just as you −"
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romanticatheartt · 22 hours
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Bridgerton spoiler
Kanthony ->
This is just me ranting :')
I know we all expected Kanthony to have a subplot in s3. I did too, the way Jonny and Simone talked about staying till the end, their excitement in their very small press for s2 and future seasons. The way Simone didn't sign a contract for Sex Education new season. And how this show was a priority for Jonny while shooting both Fellow Travellers and Bridgerton. Fellow Travellers production had to work around his schedule for s3...
But this is Bridgerton production we're talking about. They used the diversity to gain more audience in poc. But they care very little for their poc actors. Why do you think Regé left? Why do you think Ruby instantly talked about her experience while filming Bridgerton right after she left? And there were so many fans called her out for overreacting or now that Regé is free he should come back so he can be humbled since he's not booked after Bridgerton
It might be weird as I am a hard-core Kathony shipper but I need Simone to get out of the show. She was a leading lady but she was a side character in her own season. People think she stole Edwina's man while it was never Edwina's season but Kate's. P*lin stans think she was just a love interest and not a leading lady that's why she didn't got that much promo. That's why she didn't get any back story because she was just Anthony's love interest. "It was Anthony's story not Kate's."
I've seen all of it in twitter. It reeks of misogyny and racism there.
So please don't get your hopes up. I knew we're only going to get them in the first episode and we'll be done with it and I was right. They don't care about Kate...
They had so many opportunities to make Kate part of a story as a viscountess and her experience with the title and not just Anthony's wife but as we were proven so many times in the past, Simone doesn't have any value to them. They used her (and Jonny) as a bait.
And I don't want to hear about how it's not their season. Benedict, Francesca, Violet and Eloise all have a plot in this season, they could've give one to Kate but they didn't. So no it's not just about p*lin... it's an assemble show after all, right?
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ceasarslegion · 2 days
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I absolutely want to know the details of the needle abortion claim please
*end of the world voice* hokay, so.
In conservative catholic school sex ed, they taught us many egregiously false things. I have a list. The clitoris didnt exist, masturbation gives you cancer, having sex before marriage is like being a piece of tape that gets passed around and the more people it gets stuck to and taken off of, the more it loses its "bonding power." Babies born out of wedlock are more likely to have birth defects, STIs are gods punishment for being horny for anyone whos not your spouse, AIDS is a "sinner's disease" and a divine punishment against sodomy (that one was fun!), our teacher once told us that we didn't need to learn about contraceptives because they were sinful, just family planning so that sex would ONLY EVER BE FOR PROCREATION!!! And of course, the needle abortion claim
The claim was tied into another false claim that fetuses are like, fully-formed tiny babies that just get bigger as time goes on, because of course life begins at conception and fully-formed babies literally hatch from human eggs and thats why theyre called eggs (you think i am being sarcastic. They actually said this). So when abortions are performed, it's when a doctor takes a needle full of "poison" (never specified what the poison is btw, just poison) and injects it through the mother's womb, into the baby's brain, and lets it slowly and painfully die as the poison kills its brain. And then the baby is removed by C-section.
I remember this one so vividly because i went home and told my center-left but extremely feminist parents about it, upon which they went "HI WHAT-" and immediately pulled me from the sex ed class and started sending me to school with actually accurate sex ed homeschooling curriculums to work on at the library while my classmates were in sex ed. They didnt actually have to do this, my parents are just IB-certified high school teachers so any gap in education didnt sit right with them, and they knew which resources they could trust to make a way better lesson plan for me. But the bar was at the center of the earth after that. I didnt go to their school at this point because i was in junior high
And the catholic sex ed didnt stick much considering i grew up to be a world-class whore, but according the protestants thats the whole deal right
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eyecan02 · 12 hours
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Alastor Analysis
Alastor's background regarding romance and sexuality goes all the way back to early drawings that depict Alastor crushing on Kay-cee.
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The story then moves on from a crush on Kay-cee to a full on relationship with Mimzy.
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It makes me wonder how Viv jumped from Alastor in a relationship to Alastor being ace. It feels like quite a wide leap. With Viv being the creator, I have nothing but respect for her but I feel like Alastor can still love/possibly do sexual acts while still keeping in character and looking out for #1.
I feel like while Alastor was alive, he leaned toward graysexual and this is why. I don't believe this man died a virgin. As we all know Alastor is from the 20s. He's in his late 30s/40s, meaning that it would've been uncommon for a man his age to still be unwed/unattached to someone. I'm sure he went on blind dates set up by his mom, and even occasionally slept with women in order to keep up appearances. He most likely did this in order to make his mother happy since any mother would've liked to have seen their child happily married.
And after Alastor became an overlord, the occasional sex probably didn't stop there, because Alastor is all about about keeping up appearances and deals. He definitely comes off as someone who would use sex as a means to and end. If a woman wanted to trade their soul in exchange for Alastor's protection and one night with him, I feel like Alastor wouldn't turn her down. It would be a decision that would end up leading to an increase in power for him. He just likely wouldn't kiss during the act.
Now finally onto Alastor's relationship with Charlie. From the beginning, we've all known that Alastor has his own agenda and reasons for involving himself with Charlie. He's a master of manipulation, knowing love is a powerful motivator (the way he manipulates Vaggie by making her feel bad about Charlie and the commercial) and also digging into Charlie's daddy issues.
It was clear that Alastor tried to play the boyfriend card to piss off Luci. It was only after Charlie introduced Vaggie that Alastor changed tactics and switched to the daddy card.
This means that Alastor would be willing to play any role to get what he wants from Charlie, whether the endgame is obtaining her soul or becoming her royal advisor or whatever. If Vaggie had been introduced in the pilot as a mere crush, Alastor would've caught onto the daddy issues quick and would've angled for a romantic role in Charlie's life since love and sex would be easy things for Alastor to manipulate (if my theory is right about him using sex as a means to an end).
I feel like this kind of materializes during the pilot with the way Alastor keeps pushing Vaggie out of the way, and how Vaggie seems jealous whenever Alastor impresses Charlie.
We don't know if this weird competition for Charlie's attention will persist between them as the series goes on considering that behavior was absent in season one. What's interesting is that the jealousy aspect switched from Vaggie to Alastor. The second Luci hugged Charlie, we're shown Alastor looking maliciously at Luci with his eye twitching in irritation.
What do we know about Alastor so far? He's an attention whore . He's used to being one of the strongest demon lords (at least from the pride ring) so suddenly not having attention, particularly Charlie's attention is making him act nuttier than usual.
Usually, it's hard for someone to be jealous without at least having some feelings toward the one they're feeling jealousy over. "Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit that one could get accustomed." This line is for the entire Hazbin gang, but also a real sign he cares for Charlie.
He can still have his own hidden agenda while caring about Charlie and being attracted to her. And he definitely is attracted to her. Calls her "charming and adorable". The constant touching.
Some might argue that that's just a part of Alastor's power play/dominance but he already knows that those types of moves don't intimidate Charlie. In fact, she never seems bothered at all when Alastor tries physically to get closer to her.
Also, the animators placing Alastor in Charlie's bed with both of them on a HEART pillow is insane. They know what they were doing. We see the way Alastor's hands possessively spider crawl up Charlie's shoulders and the way he grips her face.
And by the looks of it, Alastor seems to lust after Charlie's soul almost as much as his freedom. Viv has said that Alastor can't love anyone because he loves himself too much. Yet, she has also described Charlie as "Alastor's mirror".
The fact that they even made Charlie's color palette similar to Alastor's. Her hot pink jacket is almost a reddish color and they both wear bow ties. If Charlie is a reflection of Alastor then wouldn't that mean he does technically love himself by loving Charlie? He could be Charliesexual.
Not saying Viv will change her mind. She already chose her endgame. BUT what if Prime and Viv compromise and we get to have one sided Charlastor where Alastor admits to someone or even directly confesses his romantic love to Charlie herself (without actually trying to steal her from Vaggie)?
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ginnysgraffiti · 9 hours
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jealousy, unprotected sex, violence, anger, cursing, fingering, 18+
&. PAUL ATREIDES x yn
could you blame yourself?
no, not really.
not the way you claimed it, at least.
you always placed so much trust and respect in the visions that paul witnessed in his dreams, for they usually concerned the holy war or future events not clear to his complete awareness yet.
however, you never expected something like this.
you couldn't say exactly if it was due to the fact that you and paul had established an increasingly stronger connection and intimacy, but you were sure that it was definitely because of other factors.
paul and his intuitions had been (disturbingly) accurate for weeks, and your boyfriend was even able to see your sexual needs in his visions.
you liked it, yes. it turned you on like hell, and you knew it had the exact effect on him.
you recognized paul's gaze when he had visions of that kind, you glimpsed it through his hungry eyes and you experienced it when his strong hands destroyed your body.
you lived with a certain constant tension, but your inner self knew that you just wanted that moment to come.
"shut that fuck up! take my cock like the slut you are!!" paul's hand slapped your butt, causing a bitter tear to fall from your face.
this excited him greatly and with his other arm he twisted your legs around his waist, making you arch your back to welcome his wet and warm dick as deeply as you could.
you didn't know if it was your fault, but paul was so furious he would have swallowed you alive.
"look at me in my eyes, damn it! or do you want me to call him, uh? to call your beloved feyd rautha and make him fuck you like i do!?"
"paul-"
yet another thrust of his hips brought your hip bones to clash painfully with each other.
you left a loud and pleading moan but his quick fingers choked you in time and reduced it to a pathetic strangled scream.
"who's the one who touches herself while feyd's name slips down her tongue?! her damn fucking tongue! uh?!"
"p-...paul it was just a-a...a vision-"
deadly move.
the bed creaked and for a moment you imagined the springs surrendering to its bloody rhythm.
your boyfriend grabbed your hair mercilessly, almost detaching them from the roots, while his cock was destroying your inner walls beyond limit.
you were crying, but you were just choking on your own moans and sobs, like a sinful child.
it was just a vision, in fact...but now he was going so rough and raw that crying more made you feel real slut.
your sight was still granted to you, even if your retinas were caged in tears as hot as spice.
you could see him, see your boyfriend taking your pussy with a heavenly expression on your face, perhaps the one you wore in his dirty visions.
his mouth was wide open with pleasure and his eyes closed with excitement. he moved his hips for his own burning pleasure, making you aching, sore and wet all in.
"I don't know what would turn me on more, maybe you really deserve to end up in his maniacal arms! you would regret it of course, but it would be too late to go back!!"
you wished somebody could hear you for your own sake.
the wet and sticky tip of his cock was roaming roughly inside you, but the initial pleasure had reduced you to an unbearable burning sensation. you could feel your chest confiding with every sob, but his hands would travel again, landing on your throat already full of purple, almost black bruises.
"you're so soaked, you little whore. you don't even deserve it, on my sheets!!" he groaned, his own anger causing every vein to pump on the smooth skin of his neck, making him there red with anger every time the jugular pumped before your eyes.
he grunted like an animal too proud for the zoo. he wanted to destroy you until you couldn't stand up anymore.
humiliation.
you could feel his tip reaching the deepest places. you knew that paul didn't care about protections in these extreme cases (even if it was the first time he was so out of it), thus implying that he would even risk pregnancy to satisfy his dick to the point of nausea.
"you hold on too well-"
you held the sheets for dear life when you felt him pushing away but replacing his sex with one of his agile fingers between your sores.
you gasped as he pecked at all the soft spots of yours. he knew too damn well you were too vulnerable and breakable when it came to his experienced hands.
at the same time you knew how much effort would be required of him to make you suffer precisely, hoping he would get tired.
"so fucking sensitive-"
he inserted another finger, moving at an exorbitant speed. you could feel your wetness even reaching his wrist.
ashamed again.
"p-paul-...i beg-"
he entered you using his thumb to reach your clit.
you moaned as he lapped at your walls, sliding his sizzling tongue into the heat.
he raised his lips sucking greedily, sliding two fingers in once more.
his grunts made everything wetter.
your body came moaning and shaking, your eyes rolling back.
you whimpered as you felt his cock filling you up, preventing you from coming any further.
"p-...paul, you know you're...the only one i love! a vision doesn't mean anything! i-...i- had always loved you, you're the boy of my life, the one who always had all his trust posted about me. so i ask you praying...believe me..."
your boyfriend moved one inch, hitting your weakest and most stimulated point.
you could feel a slight gag rising in your sore and dry throat as the last bit of lucidity left your body in a deep sleep.
[...]
when you wake up a strong pang pierced your forehead, making the room square and moving around you.
paul was curled up on you, not completely resting on you so that his weight didn't give you even more trouble regaining consciousness.
his white and puffy cheek was resting on your bare breasts, a hint of saliva at the sides of his red and swollen mouth.
you couldn't move so you didn't even try, until you felt something holding you back.
paul was lightly sleeping thanks to a bene gesserit relaxation technique, you could now sense that he was completely alert and attentive to your needs.
his delicate hand was hugging your wrist, listening to your heartbeat since you had probably passed out.
you knew that in the end, he loved you more than anything on that planet.
you were his duchess already.
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greenerteacups · 2 days
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I’ve just completed your most recent chapter and what a delight it was from start to finish. The slow burn continues to be delicious, and you’re doing an amazing job of gradually adding bits of kindling to the flames to keep DHr’s relationship progressing (and to feed us readers). This most recent chapter was a textbook definition of fic that gets me giggling and kicking my feet.
I’m always amused by our sweet Victorian child Draco’s reaction to sex, and the reference again to sheets and friction sent me. I’m pretty sure this isn’t the first time Draco has been nearly undone by his bedding, and it got me thinking about Pureblood culture’s views of sex and intimacy.
I know oftentimes in fanon, we tend to get Slytherin sex god/goddesses who are having their first sexual experiences pretty early, though occasionally we get a more prudish/Puritanical Draco. We know in Lionheart’s universe, Narcissa alludes to a certain level of hanky panky with Lucius in the RoR, and it certainly seems like Draco had imagined any number of acts with Hermione, even if he hasn’t acted on them in public or perhaps even privately.
If it’s not spoilery, I’d love to know more about how Pureblood culture in Lionheart generally views sex/intimacy, especially inside/outside of courtship and marriage.
It's a mixed bag! I think the Slytherin sex gods thing is a kind of wish-fulfillment (loving compliment) because, put bluntly, the number of 15-17 year-olds who are even kind of charitably good at sex is a mathematical rounding error. Also, Hogwarts has group dorms. Sexiling one person in college is hard enough; imagine you have to sexile (i.e., declare publicly your intent to fuck) 3-5 people every time you want to mess around. I'm not saying it doesn't happen, it absolutely does — it's a coed boarding school, you can't fight the wind — but I will say it's probably more at the realistic level of high schoolers fumbling through the excruciating ordeal of learning intimacy, and not "the plot of Euphoria is happening in the dungeons at all times."
Anyway. I interpret the wealthier pureblood set as a kind of wizarding aristocracy, so while in general they're expected to perform to certain expectations and social mores when they're in social/public settings, the fact of the matter is it's the twentieth century and sexual mores are changing a LOT from decade to decade. Narcissa's upbringing would have been radically different from Draco's in terms of how much sex and intimacy would have been open subject — in no small part because Narcissa's generation kind of blew the ceiling off that particular conversation. She was born in 1955 and lived through the Sexual Revolution, meaning that her childhood, adolesence, and young adulthood took place in practically three different geological eras of social life. Meanwhile, women like Walburga and Druella were members of the Greatest Generation (maybe Silent Gen on the younger side), and would've been incredibly traditionalist.
Of course, no matter what the social rules are, teenagers will find a way around them. For the purposes of Lionheart, in 1995, it's understood by most pureblood parents that kids are gonna do what kids are gonna do, but there are specific standards about who you can be seen with and make certain kinds of promises to. Narcissa kind of references this at the end of book 3; she goes on this insulting little spiel about how generations of Blacks and Malfoys had secret muggle-born pets that they kept on the side, they just didn't bring them to dinner parties. Basically, what you do in the privacy of your bedroom is your own business; just don't get caught and don't try to push boundaries, and your social set will be understanding, up to a point. But it would be absolutely improper for "dating" or "courting" to take place between a muggle-born and a pureblood, because that expresses the intent to associate with them in Society, which is a discrete sphere with its own set of rules — one of which is that you have to enforce the caste system.
With respect to specific mores and rules, there's a few references to "etiquette." That stuff's inspired by real etiquette manuals from Victorian and Edwardian England, though I've occasionally thrown in my own twist when it suits me. Dance with the one that brought you; you should have an escort to balls, theoretically but not necessarily someone you're interested in; women run the household, men run the estate. There are certain standards of chivalry and respect on the men's part, but there are also standards of ladylike conduct and decorum on the girls'. Daphne is shocked when Katie wears a suit to the Ball— to the point where she's like "?? ARE you a girl?" — because the rules of dress and poise have been so drilled into her. The level of slut-shaming we get from the Slytherin girls (despite several Slytherin girls being sexually active) also indicates how female sexuality is policed in a way male sexuality isn't; the rumors about Draco and Daphne hurt Daphne, not Draco. This double-edged hypocrisy runs hand in hand with the idea that women are training to be wives, and shouldn't be sleeping with people (if anyone) who they're not seriously pursuing for marriage. Relatedly, courting/engaged couples are usually seen together, a la Crabbe and Millicent, because the idea is you're supposed to be preparing for your marriage; now that you're socially connected, you've begun your tenure as a Unit, and you're expected to act like it. It would be strange for Vince or Millie to go to a ball with someone else unless that partner was a relative or (possibly) a close family friend. It would... imply something.
Marriage between a man and woman would be expected, not because purebloods on the whole are traditionalist — which, to be clear, they are — but because the emphasis on bloodlines means children are a priority. Pansy gives us the best précis on this in Book 2. Blaise, being gay, is in an interesting place vis-a-vis the marriage question because his position doesn't come from being heir to an old estate, it's from his mother's money; in that respect, he's not bound by usual expectations of hereditary legacies, which is possibly why he's comfortable being out. (Although there's a blink-and-you-miss-it remark about some tension with his mom in "Miseducation.")
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5sos-fic-fest · 22 hours
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2024 5sos Fic Fest Masterlist
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We had a total of 14 fics posted for this round of the fest, spanning a variety of pairings, lengths, and genres! There’s a collection on AO3 that can be found here, and tumblr posts are linked in this masterlist!  If you read, try to show the author some love by leaving kudos, comments, and reblogging their post!
We Could Be Anything by @kittenclifford (E, 14k, muke)
It’s become a habit now, a routine, almost normal for Luke to find himself outside of his dorm room, on the wrong side of the door, in the middle of the night on a weeknight. It was the third time this week (and it was only Wednesday) that Luke had been sexiled from his own dorm room by his roommate Calum. But he had to admit, Luke didn't mind being exiled nearly as much as he let on, because it meant that he got to spend time on the floor above. With Michael. Or: college AU where Luke's sexile from his dorm room leads him to Michael's room instead; from the floor to the bed, from friends to lovers
heart is gonna flatline || l.h. by @takemealivelh (M, 7k, luke x oc)
tour puts luke and lucy’s feelings to the test. addiction to sex, alcohol and weed for when things get hard. SMUT.
the cat's plan by @kaleidoscopeminds (T, 11k, cake)
Calum would like it to go on the record that Luke never wanted to keep the cat in the first place. Luke would argue that’s not entirely true. Not that it matters anyway, because when Calum shows up in their flat after work, hoodie soaked through, a pitiful mewing coming from his pocket and a beseeching look in his eyes, there was no way Luke would have had it in him to say no.
on purpose by @burstingsunrise (T, 20k, cake)
The desire to kiss Luke is overwhelming. Calum knows he looks ridiculous right now, but Luke’s right there, face inches away, smiling fondly at Calum’s stupid face caught between his careful palms. His eyes are different too. He’s not looking at Calum like he wants to fuck him. He’s looking at Calum like he wants to gently cradle Calum in his giant hands like a baby chick. Somehow, that’s even worse.
there's something that you should know by @cxmp-writes (T, 4k, malum)
Every summer, skater boys Calum and Michael travel to a sleepaway camp like no other — Camp Woodward — to hone their skills, meet new friends, and take their talents to the next level. But it's what they're not expecting that will change their lives forever.
Under the Moonlight by @ashtons-lemon-tree (T, 682, mashton)
Ashton reveals his feelings for Michael at a party celebrating their album release
the story needs some mending (and a better happy ending) by @clumsyclifford (T, 5k, mashton)
“‘Let's see a witch,’” Ashton says. “‘It’ll be fine, Ashton. What could go wrong?’” “I didn't say witch, I said psychic! How was I meant to know she was both?” “From the sign!” Ashton says, gesturing emphatically at an A-board whose advertised PSYCHIC/WITCH SERVICES couldn't be more clearly outlined. Michael tries to grumble but only manages a rumbly croak. “Look, you're fine. I'm the one who’s a bloody frog.” “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” Ashton sing-songs.
caught beneath the landslide by @starvinginbelair (E, 4k, lashton)
“You wanted to hear the playlist,” Ashton says, voice low and gravelly.  He shoves the plastic CD case back onto the shelf, the one that once housed this damned CD that’s spinning music around them right now, that Luke should’ve never asked about in the first place.  “This is the playlist.” “I don’t want your number no,” the CD croons, clearly unaware of whatever the hell it is that’s going on right now.  “I don’t wanna give you mine and nooooooooo.” “I didn’t think you’d put No Scrubs on it,” Luke counters, sticking his thumb in his mouth to bite at the edges of his nails.
may the best man win by @lovesosweeet (T, 20k, calum x oc)
competing for the best toast at their best friends' wedding, calum and tanner go from being pretend rivals to... something like friends. maybe a little more? may the best man win.
the skies falling down (end of the world) by @sup3rbloom (T, 4k, lashton)
Luke is severely hurt, and Ashton is desperate to find something to heal his best friend. He's on the brink of giving up when he meets Michael and Calum, who happen to be from a community that has medical supplies.
Fell In Love With a Boy at the Rock Show by @bandtra5h (M, 4k, malum)
Michael came to Calum with a request, a huge best friend favor: “Calum I need you to drive me Vegas!” Or Michael impulsively buys tickets to an emo festival in Las Vegas to meet up with a girl he's been talking to on Discord, but has no idea how he's gonna get there. Luckily, Calum has a car...
running from something (running back to you) by @the-technorats (M, 23k, lashton)
Luke should have died a long time ago. He’s had every chance to, and somehow he just keeps evading it. Being in the Hunger Games, though, seems like it should be the final nail in his excruciatingly, meticulously constructed coffin. Or, the one where Luke is the District Four male tribute for the Hunger Games and he loses everything. Everything, that is, except for Ashton.
Always In Spring by @chamaleonsoul (M, 17k, cake)
Luke and Calum’s friendship has gone through many highs and lows, and it’s so full of parallels and full-circle moments that it’s almost like the universe is set to make sure they grow, love and stay together.
vampire?! (should have known it was strange you only come out at night) by @igarbagecannoteven (T, 2k, muke)
“What I’m trying to say is, it’s awesome that your family has this whole ‘goth mad scientist finally got paid for all the Frankensteins they’ve made’ type vibe going on, but if you plan on bringing someone home to meet the parents, you should give them a heads up. It was a little hard to appreciate the coolness when I was trying to figure out if I was going to end up as Cult Victim Number Two.” “What made you decide that’s not going to happen?” Luke asked. Michael thought about Calum’s texts and shrugged. “Honestly? Still not a hundred percent sure it’s not. But if you’re doing the sacrificing, I don’t know if I’d mind.”
Thank you to all of the participants!
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fleshdyke · 2 months
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hchkvgjvfj
#csa warning for tags#goddd being raped at 6ish and brutally bullied is a hell of a combination#i was the one kid in not only my grade but multiple above and below me as well that the boys would dare each other to 'ask out'#absolutely CONSTANTLY. like jesus#by the time i was raped i'd already been bullied pretty badly for a while. including being constantly told i was ugly by all the boys#which is like. a huge reason i was raped in the first place. i still dont know who it was but i can only assume he took advantage of me#being constantly bullied to abuse me. as child rapists so often do#but like i was always the one that would be 'asked out' as a dare bc why would any of them want to talk to me#it was so inconceivable that any of them could want to be near me let alone 'go out' with me. they didn't even bother trying to hide the way#they laughed. like they didn't try to hide it bc they knew no one would do anything#and this happening to me fucking constantly for years on end throughout my ENTIRE childhood. that fucks with you man#like i dont think its even possible for anyone to like being around me at all. let alone find me attractive#there's still never been a single person who's had a crush on me or whatever#like all my friends have stories about annoying boys having crushes on them when they were younger. and what does it say about me that im#the complete opposite. and like it's so stupid because who fucking cares what 10 year old boys thought in 2016 but it really really fucks#you up bad man. like if anyone ever does come to be attracted to me for whatever reason i dont think im ever going to be able to believe it#i'm always going to be waiting for the joke to end and them to start laughing. i'll always be waiting for the other shoe to drop#and the worst part of it all is that i fucking want to be raped again#being raped as a little kid is the only time anyone has ever wanted me. it's the only time i've ever been desired. and i dont even like sex#but it's just the only time anyone has ever loved me in a non parental way#like i have one crush story to all my friends'. and it was a grown man that raped me when i was little#and i want to be raped again so fucking badly not because i would enjoy it but because it would prove that someone actually fucking wants me#i want to be sexually harassed and not in the way i usually am. i want to be catcalled and have to be scared walking around alone#i want men to grope me and say disgusting things and rape me because then i would finally be fucking wanted#it would prove that i'm actually likeable in some capacity. that i still am#im so scared that now that im grown im just a lost cause. because i was only desirable when i was little. now im just nothing#and i know i shouldnt even care but its so fucking hard to shake. i just want someone to love me#and i love my mom so much but i want them to love me because they want to and not because they have to#rambles#vent
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maddy-ferguson · 10 months
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Ngl, I really think that these bylers that are crying 24/7 about "purity culture" or whatever, are playing dumb when they start with their "but Nancy and Steve were 16 and 17 in that scene of s1!!!1" like... We got introduced to these characters at that age and the people playing them were already adults. So yeah, sorry but I think it's easy to see why most viewers would be uncomfortable with a more sexual scene of Mike and Will and it's not automatically homophobia, I think that would be the case with any of the kids since we got introduced to these characters when they were 12 and the actors were babies as well. We literally saw those kids grow. And I'm not saying byler should only get to peck or hold hands, It'd be cool if they have their epic kiss or whatever, but Will hasn't even had his first kiss yet and some of these people are already talking about sex scenes, like... Be for real 😭
funny you should say that...because i've used the nancy was 15-16 in season one argument (last tag) before while also saying that i understand why people find the sex part of their sexualities uncomfortable to discuss. and i wanna reiterate that, again, i totally understand that people feel like they've seen them grow up etc etc and that they still think of the actors themselves as children even thought they're not anymore.
i don't think it's all homophobia because like you said, people would probably feel the same about lucas and max and discussions of sex (i don't know if anyone is discussing that because there's much less discourse to have there and you can't argue that people are homophobic if they disagree with you) but i don't think it would be justified either. the "but we knew the characters when they were little" argument makes me think me of an ancient disney channel/abc show that old people and girl meets world fans who watched it for the first time in the 2010s will know, boy meets world (1993-2000). classic comic of age show, look at these kids. and eric in the back (he's fifteen).
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they're eleven at the start of the show and then, what happens in any coming of age story happens, you guessed it...
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they grow up. this is them in the later seasons, when the main characters are still in high school i think. they grow up, they talk about sex and about having sex at prom in season five and then they don't have sex right away because they figure it's not the right time yet or something like that, and then they have sex later and get married, the details don't matter. but my point is, who watches a show for five seasons, over years and years and gets upset at the main characters having sex because "this is crazy they used to be children"? isn't that the point of coming of age stories that cover multiple years or that focus on the latter years of adolescence, that they're not children forever and that at one point the characters "come of age" which usually includes their first sexual experiences?
i don't think the having sex part is particularly important in stranger things but also it doesn't have to be for it to be portrayed (see jonathan and nancy), teenagers have sex, it's just the way the world works. i'm not advocating for sex scenes of any kind especially because stranger things isn't a show that features a lot of sex in general, the only "explicit" sex scene being nancy and steve in season one with cuts to barb dying, but i genuinely don't think the duffers would have any qualms about portraying teenage sexuality in general with the party. if they did, they wouldn't have included erica threatening lucas to tell dustin what she found under his bed (it wasn't the communist manifesto) and they wouldn't have had max looking at a shirtless steve for an amount of time that's supposed to make the audience laugh. it's been 7 years. if they do a time jump, the babies will be about 17, played by actors who will all be around 20, the age natalia was when filming season one. the characters are teenagers, babies grow up. it happens to the best of us. i get why people would find it uncomfortable and maybe i would find it uncomfortable too but i wouldn't be scandalized. the duffers had no problem having a child actor portray everything will goes through in seasons one and especially two, i really feel like sex is fine and...not traumatizing or hard to watch compared to every single thing will's gone through lol. and again, i'm not even expecting them to have sex lmao, but i wouldn't cry myself to sleep if they revealed that everyone in the party actually knows what sex is.
last question: do we have any indication that jonathan had talked to more than one other girl (the girl at the halloween party being the one girl i'm counting for him) before he got together with nancy. i'm just asking because of your last sentence, because if we don't he should have slowed down also😭
#yes i'm back to calling people old for no reason. <3#saying that they will all be around 20 isn't a stretch because noah's turning 19 in 4 months and they haven't begun filming yet. thank you#i'm not mad at you anon sorry for not really agreeing with you and again i get where you're coming from and i don't even expect them to#have sex and if they did i would expect it to be implied like jonathan and nancy but yeah#what i mean when i say it's not particularly important in st is that i don't think they need to have sex for will's arc to be complete or#anything😭#i would've been happy with jonathan and nancy only kissing in s2 like idc yk it's a detail#i'm not advocating for sex scenes means HERE in this case i'm not anti-sex scenes in general lmao#i didn't watch bmw over years and years i watched it in like. a month and a half maybe i really was not crying when cory started wanting to#have sex and i was 15...an impressionnable kid who knew what sex was...disheartening i know💔#<- that wasn't me making fun of you anon lmao again i get where you're coming from i just respectfully disagree#i looked up the episode where they have sex and (spoiler alert lol) cory and topanga end up only having sex on their wedding night i think?#and that's not the episode in s5 i'm talking about but they consider having sex and talk about it so still bringing that one up#i found an article about something rider strong (shawn) said about not liking this episode because while they talk about sex at length they#never talk about safe sex and he even talked about his concerns to the showrunner because he thought it was irresponsible since yk young#viewers and all that and he was like maybe you don't get it different generations mine grew up with aids and everything this is really#important and he brushed him off! i thought that was interesting. this has nothing to do with st#ask
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babygirlsteddie · 2 years
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thinking about steve and eddie having really fucking kinky sex but then eddie taking such good care of steve afterwards and steve is overwhelmed because he's not used to being taken care of and he's crying but insisting that he's fine and he doesn't know why he's crying or how to stop it and eddie just holds him so gently and tells steve that he's got him
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rubenesque-as-fuck · 1 year
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Well damn, today did not go how I expected
#life of faye#woke up normal and actually started to get stuff done#then got distracted texting d#which turned into us having a long deep conversation about our whole situation#like probably more in depth than we've really discussed it since he left portland#or possibly ever#i definitely ended up confessing that I am kinda sorta in love with him and don't know how not to be#and that I feel like a bad friend for still wanting to fuck him but also that I feel like there's been some mixed signals in that regard#and he talked about how he's not comfortable pursuing a relationship with me or anyone else right now#and that he would be open to something fwb-related but he didn't think I would be interested/comfortable with that arrangement#especially considering my own confessed feelings and everything#but I told him I can work with that because at least I would have a chance to occasionally fuck someone I trust#and i already know he fucks like a champ#like fwb fuckfest every once in a while- even if it's only every year or two- is still preferable to ~1 shitty new stranger date per year#and maybe it's pathetic of me to stuff down my love to at least get sex#but fucking a friend that just doesn't love me back is still better than fucking a stranger to me#anyway we haven't really nailed down it all yet but the conversation has finally been started#also he asked for me to make a painting for his bday and it made me 🥹#nobody has ever specifically asked me to paint them something before#my date with sweet d
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