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#for some it will be about doing Everything,but for most it's about getting a wide choice of what to focus on and how to specialize
hotdogstandz · 3 days
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My Lust tale. A story following a group of monsters living in a world in which humans and monsters have always coexisted side by side. Sure, everyone is above ground, but that doesn’t mean everything is easy. In this world, monsters face extreme classism, racism, and just general systemic oppression from the government. This story specifically follows the lives of a suffering but strong community of monsters doing their best to survive in a run-down city with a corrupt system not made for them.
We’ve got the aged-out foster skeleton brothers- drag queen Sans and security/accountant Pax (government name Papyrus) who co-run the hit club, Lust Tales After Dark, located on Snowed In Street.
Directly across from their building is a small rundown cafe run by the lovely Miss Toriel, and occasionally her eldest two children, biological son Asriel (15) and adopted Chara (16). She has another adopted kid, Frisk (7) that the eldest watch frequently as well. Pax and Sans (dubbed Sansy by Frisk) spend most of their off time either with the kids, running rehearsals, or working the food bank that Lust Tales After Dark and Toriels cafe run (along with several other monster owned businesses) for the unfortunate monsters and humans living on the streets in their city.
Chief of police, Asgore is what you could expect. A power hungry, corrupt, and selfish man willing to throw his own family away for the sake of success. I will reveal more about everyone’s dynamic soon enough.
Last bit….and I want you all to REALLY look me in the face and listen to every word I’m about to say.
DO. NOT. SEXUALIZE. ANY. OF THE CHARACTERS. WHO ARE. MINORS.
This is a story meant to raise awareness for real life problems. I am planning on using this series to educate younger people in this fandom about safe sex practices, consent, and the wide variety of sexualities, as well as SA, domestic violence, and STD awareness. As someone who read the original comic as a young teen, it was incredibly damaging and confusing. So, this is meant to be used as a tool. A comfort. Lust and sexuality can be really really scary for some. I hope to make it less scary. More educational and lighthearted.
If your intention is to come on my page and twist my content into what the original LustTale was or draw harmful art that you KNOW could damage someone, get the FUCK off my page. Unkindly.
That’s all :] thx for reading bbys
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teenidlegirl · 1 day
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꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓓𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝓦𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝓜𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 .ᐟ
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. ˚◞ ♡ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕⠀˖ ࣪ ༘ fluff, sfw, established relationship
( ꯭♡︎ ) ˖ ࣪ . love note ˒˒ thinking about what it’d be like going to disneyland with miguelito. a little self indulgent since i’ve been to disneyland numerous times. enjoy some disney fluffiness. ♡
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⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel would wear a mickey cap with either a star wars or marvel shirt and pants. you’d wear classic minnie ears with a cute outfit.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ sometimes you two would wear matching mickey and minnie hats on other visits.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel double checks if you two have everything you need. water bottles, sunscreen, wipes (that mf is a clean freak), hand sanitizer. he would ask a million times if you have the tickets, which is on the disneyland app on your phone. he just wants to make sure they don’t get lost and the day isn’t ruined because you two look forward to it.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he hates the mickey and friends tram station because he feels so cramped due to his bulky figure. he has to slouch a little, trying not to bump his head on the roof (he has several times before).
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ you secretly take pics of him when miguel isn’t looking. you can’t help it because he’s so cute, especially in that mickey hat.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ you also take occasional selfies. of course you take a picture in front of the castle.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he always has a hand on you. hand holding, on your waist, hip, or the small of your back. mainly hand holding or his hand on your waist.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel is very protective of you, he already is, but especially when you’re walking through a sea of people. he shoots a glare at anyone who bumps into you, especially if they don’t apologize and keep on walking. he tries to be calm and civil, not wanting to cause an outburst and ruin your day.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ this dude HATES long lines. miguel would complain how stupidly long the lines are. moping and groaning but has to suck it up because he knows how much you want to go on those rides. to make it fun, you do the most cliche thing and play heads up on your phone. miguel would get pissed off when he doesn’t get the answer right, making you laugh.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ his favorite area is tomorrowland since it resembles a bit of neuva york. the futuristic scenery and aesthetic. such a big nerd he is.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he always gets caught off guard on space mountain because how fast it is. right after that right turn before taking off, he always get startled. he also forgets the camera towards the end of the ride. his eyes widen and mouth wide open in shock. he gets flustered and embarrassed when you take a picture of it. “can’t you not.” “too late, tonto.”
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ pizza planet is your guys’ go-to for either lunch or dinner because the pizza is bomb.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel loves star tours and buzz lightyear ride. during buzz lightyear, you two get very competitive on who gets the most points. he freaks out and nearly falls out when you move the seat with the lever. you laugh and make fun of him.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ after star tours, miguel goes on full geek mode and ventures around the entire store that you enter right after the ride. a smile forms on your face as you watch your cute geeky boyfriend gazing at all the merchandise. if you’re a star wars fan (i am lol), you’ll geek out with him and babble about the merch. you never leave the store without miguel buying something. a simple shirt or hat.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel HATES the teacups. he begs you to not go on it but obviously loses. you go on it just to purposefully mess with him. if you’re a crazy person (like me), you’ll spin that shit like crazy. poor miguel holds on for dear life, on the verge of trying not to puke while you’re laughing at his reaction. after getting of the ride, he has to take a minute to breathe before moving on. he hates spiny rides.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he isn’t a fan of fantasyland since it’s mainly for kids and slow rides. but if you wanna go on some rides there, he’ll do it for you. will never admit but he does like alice in wonderland, probably the only ride he likes there. he feels squished in those rides since they’re so small and he’s too bulky.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ after much convincing and begging, miguel takes a shot at the sword in the stone. with rolled eyes and a light scowl in his face, he tries pulling the sword with some strength, not all. shockingly, the swords lifts up from the stone. the public and crew applaud him for successfully pulling the sword. you reward him with kisses over his face, making miguel a bashful mess but loves it so much.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ thunder mountain is definitely a favorite of his (mine too hehe). the line might be a pain but it’s definitely worth it because the ride is amazing.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ matterhorn not so much because the seats are so small, he can barely fit in it. feels so cramped and uncomfortable. another reason he doesn’t like it as much is because it’s a single seat so he can’t sit next to you. before and after the ride, you two hold hands over each other’s seats, depends if you’re in front or behind him, because you know how clingy he is. it makes your heart flutter, he’s so cute.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ bro gets so excited when you head to galaxy’s edge. while holding your hand, he leads you around the area. stares in awe at the scenery and aesthetic. definitely buys merch from there.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ remember how much he hates long lines? oh he almost lost it while waiting for rise of the resistance. playing heads up or just talking with you makes it better. but it’s all worth it in the end. definitely one of his favorite rides.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ definitely hates water rides. don’t even bother convincing him to go on splash mountain because he ain’t getting on it. he hates being wet.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel really likes haunted mansion not only for the spooky atmosphere but because it’s so dark that you two cuddle in the fake coffin without anyone noticing. during the elevator, he holds you close so he doesn’t lose you in the sea of people. his strong beefy arms securely wrapped around you.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he hates water rides but pirates is an exception because it’s that not bad. he forgets the three drops, especially the first one. a big pout settles on his face when he gets splashed with water.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he makes fun of you for saying how much you love the smell of water in pirates.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ indiana jones is another favorite. besides the long tedious line, miguel loves it. he always makes sure you sit in the middle and him on the outside. shows how protective he is of you.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ definitely gets hungry after a long period of time. you two stop at the nearest restaurant.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel tries out the shooting exposition just to impress you. unfortunately, he misses almost every target and is now embarrassed as hell. turns out you’re the one to impress him because you manage to get every target. bro was astonished.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ during the fireworks, miguel has his arms wrapped around you and chin resting on the top of your head as you two watch the fireworks. when it’s over, you two share a kiss as the final touch.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ when your feet start to hurt, miguel doesn’t hesitate to carry you despite your protests. he whispers, “just a man carrying his princess.”
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ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @yougavemeyourheartyouknow (i kept my promise to tag you for this ! <3)
© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡
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bonny-kookoo · 19 hours
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Jungkook
Princess | Limits [Final]
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There's only so much he can take.
Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, misunderstanding, smut, (slightly) mean Dom kook, a slap to the thigh, uh, knot is mentioned, it's nasty, unprotected but MC is mentioned to be on birth control, he holds her by the throat? Idk he also has his fingers in her mouth-
Length: 5k Words
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
A/N: This will act as a final chapter. The main story is therefore wrapped up- but as always, if you want drabbles, you can still request them.
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Jungkook has never understood the phrase of your ‘heart stopping’- because how could it ever? You’d be dead in that case. But right in this moment, he finally gains the knowledge by experiencing it first hand- eyes wide open and body frozen.
Why are you in his bed? Barely dressed, snuggled up to him who’s only in his underwear?
He thinks through the whole process of yesterday to make sense of this. Did you both get potentially drunk last night? No, not at all. You and him had simply packed your things to drive you to your parents hours away, after having contacted them and told them about everything. He remembers driving you there himself, unloading your bags, leaving you there after waving and driving off. And added to that, that was not last night. It was almost an entire week ago.
He hasn’t seen you in days. So what are you doing here?
It’s not a dream either, clock on his nightstand ticking away, world outside going about its day as the window isn’t all closed to let some fresh air in at night. And yet, you’re there- bare legs entangled with his, arms holding onto his.
He doesn’t really feel alarmed by the fact that you somehow entered his apartment- you know where he lives after all, and you know the passcode to his door, so it’s not really surprising at all. But what he is questioning is why you’re here- and why you’re in his bed, most of all. Has he forgotten some conversation you might’ve had? Or has something happened to make you so upset that you were craving the comfort of him at any cost?
Now he’s worried.
Shaking you a little to wake you up seems to not be very effective- because you just frown, slap his hand away and bury your face right back into his shoulder as if he’s nothing but an annoying fly. “I know you’re awake.” Jungkook tells you, and at that you actually open one of your eyes, looking up at him with your tail wagging beneath the covers. “What’re you doing here?” He asks, and you frown again turning onto your back to look up at him who’s sat up by now.
“Why do you sound so upset about that?” You complain with almost a pout in your tone, arms crossed. “I thought couples love reuniting.” You say, and he looks at you, confused.
“Couples?” He questions, and you nod, now visibly unsure as well.
“Well, yeah?” You say, attitude fading and being replaced by uncertainty. “I mean.. we haven’t said the L-word yet, but like.. I thought..” you start, scanning his face for any sign that he realizes what you believed you two were. “..since you uh.. called me baby in the car..” you drift off, and still- there’s no sign of anything on Jungkook’s face as he thinks, and digs around in his memories for the correct moment he might’ve said that. He did, maybe. But he doesn’t remember.
“did I?” He asks, and regrets it the moment he watches the shame visibly wash over you- from the way your ears pin back to the slight change in your gaze, he knows he fucked up by saying it loud- and he’s a little too late as you roll out the bed and run for the bathroom after picking something up from the floor, hiding away now. “hey- wait.” He asks, getting up to walk towards the bathroom floor, knocking on it just to not get an answer. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding-“ He starts, trying hard to calm you down- but it’s clearly not working as the door opens, and you slip right past him to run towards the door where your shoes are. “Hey no- stay, let’s talk-“
“Nuh-uh, nop, this is so embarrassing-“ You rant, visibly frustrated over the shoes not closing fast enough as your hands are too shaky to really tie them. So you just make a simple knot and stuff the laces into the corners, before a tattooed hand snatches your other shoe from you. “give that back!” You bark, not looking at him however as you reach for the shoe he’s holding too high for you. “stop-“
“stop, exactly. Don’t run off now, I’m sorry if I said something that made you think we were more than we are.” He explains, and you visibly deflate at that, ears down low just like your tail. “let me get dressed, and we can talk, okay?” He asks again, and you just shrug.
He sighs as he puts down the shoe and leaves to tug a shirt and pants onto himself- before he realizes his mistake too late-
Door already slamming shut, your jacket the only thing you left at his place.
Fuck.
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He’s been knocking since forever it feels like- but even at his third visit today, you refuse to open the door.
You still got a week left in your apartment- but he knows from first hand experience that you got almost no furniture at all in there anymore, so this can’t be an option for you to sleep at. He doesn’t want you to be upset at him- and in hindsight, he really could’ve worded things a bit better, but he’s still new to this as much as you are. “please let me in.” He requests once more as he’s done so often today, sighing. “I missed you too, you know?” He tries this time around, and to be honest, that’s not even a lie.
Its odd how at first glance, he never thought he’d ever get along with you. But having you gone for almost an entire week, he really felt the way you’d somehow snuck into his heart- every task back to being mundane without you causing a little chaos in his daily life here and there.
“That’s a lie.” You say, door open just a crack to glare at him through.
“Its not.” He denies. “I just think we never actually talked about what we want to be- so I was surprised to just.. have you turn up out of nowhere in my bed.” He chuckles a little, and you just look down to the floor in shame.
“M’ sorry.” You apologize. “won’t happen again.”
“What if I want it to happen again?”
Your gaze snaps up at him at that, confused. “I was just a bit caught off guard, and honestly worried. Did something happen at your parent’s?” He wonders, and you sigh, opening the door to let him into the almost entirely unfurnished apartment- a pile of clothes and a blanket being the last items that were probably used as a makeshift resting spot for you today laying in the corner of the main living room. You sit down there, before letting yourself fall to the side as if exhausted, before you shrug, Jungkook sitting on the floor across from you. “it was.. I don’t know.” You admit. “I love them. And I was really super happy to see them again, and spend time there..” you explain, before you pull the blanket between your fingers to have something to hold onto while you stare into nothingness. “But it was.. really a lot.. I don’t know how to explain.”
“I guess that’s normal. You know, being overwhelmed with it.” Jungkook sympathizes. “I’m exhausted too after spending a day or two with my entire family-pack. Nothing to worry about.” He explains, and you just nod, still avoiding eye contact. “I think what’s important now then, is what we are to one another. You can’t just break into my apartment and sneak into my bed without formally asking me out, you know?” He jokes, but your glare is filled with embarrassment.
“Now I don’t want to anymore.” You huff, before you turn around- and at that, Jungkook feels an odd rush underneath his skull, fueled by your subtle and underlying confession in your words.
“You love me though, don’t you?” He asks, leaning in closer as he sits near you now, a hand on your shoulder. “all you need to do is say it.” He chuckles, as you curl up more into yourself as if that would hide you.
“And then what?” You huff. “You’ll-“
“I’ll say it back.” He cuts you off. “or I’ll say it first, it’s no issue. At this point it’s pretty obvious that I’m starting to fall in love with you.” He easily spills, and you freeze before you slowly unravel, turning to look at him over your shoulder with a face full of wonder.
“You are?” You ask hesitantly, and he smiles, before he nods.
“I am.” He responds, confirms his words and you sit up at that, facing him now. “are you?” He wonders, and you nod.
“I am.” You answer, and he laughs.
“See? Nothing to be scared of. Now come on, I’m not letting you sleep here.” He says, standing up with you to pick up your stuff-
Unaware of the absolute Rollercoaster he just signed himself up for.
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Jungkook did not know what he got into when basically confessing his growing feelings.
His mundane life is pretty much over at this point, with you always around and currently basically having moved in until you can figure out if this works or not. After all, you’re not used to living with someone else- and it’s clear that no matter what, you’re the opposite of an angel, still trying your tricks on him to make him dance around like you want him to.
But Jungkook isn’t this easy to control. And in a way, it’s a little fun to see how much you can get away with.
“Jesus christ, put some clothes on.!” Jungkook curses as be spots you laying on your stomach on his couch, in nothing but a simple top and underwear, tail wagging. The wolf hybrid has to turn away, distract himself with the task of turning the volume of the TV lower, while you just don’t understand what his fussing is all about, game on your little console in your hands on pause.
“Why?” You ask because of that, not sure why he’s being so overly dramatic in your opinion. It’s just your legs, maybe your butt. So?
“because- just put at least some pants on.”, he groans, and you roll your eyes, before you continue your game instead.
You’re not listening. And he’s not sure if it’s your character- or if you think his decreasing patience is funny to watch.
“Do I have to turn the wifi off to get your full attention?” jungkook asks a little irritated, and you shrug.
“Don’t care.” You respond, eyes on the little screen between your hands. “the game doesn’t need internet.”
Suddenly however, the console is taken out of your hands, as he saves your current progress, and puts it into the charging station near the TV. “Hey!” You complain, getting up now to rush towards him- and as he makes sure you can’t get to your precious game again, he notices that God fucking damn it, you’re not wearing a bra beneath this very flimsy shirt.
You’re really testing him.
“Put pants on.” He says, and you have the audacity to laugh.
“Nah.” You deny, stretching before you step away from him, walking towards the bedroom. “I’ll just take a na-“ you don’t get to say much else, as he suddenly tugs on your tail with just enough force to make it count- but nowhere near enough to hurt. “Hey!” You turn around instantly, just to be basically cornered by the wolf hybrid, who’s backing you into a wall in the living room.
“You’ve got a real smart mouth there.” He simply says, but it sounds like a threat almost-, a very specific kind of threat that makes your skin shiver. “But you tend to forget when to shut it, clearly.” He scoffs, as your back hits the wall, making you swallow your own saliva nervously.
But he can sense, smell, that this is affecting you not in the direction of fear- but something else entirely.
“You’re so lucky, you know?” He asks, somewhat- and you look at him with question. “I’m not usually patient like that.”
“What would you have done?” You ask, unable to really keep it in as you know that if you hesitate for just a second, you’ll never be able to say this out loud, ask for such things. You want them, but you’re also nervous, considering you’ve never actually gotten this far with anyone before. “Put me in timeout?” You almost challenge, tail beginning to sway a little with newfound confidence, when he just shrugs it off, and shakes his head.
“No.” He denies. “Brats like you need something that.. Lasts longer.” He words out, and at that, scenes manifest inside your head that make you visibly shy.
You’re not sure if he realized it yet, but a lot of the things you do, you do on full purpose. You like this game of push and pull, you think its exciting and fun- so you hope that with words like that, he means them as such, because that would mean that he’s both aware of the little game you’re playing, and also a willing participant in it.
You don’t want him to just feel like you’re made of porcelain, possibly breaking at the slightest touch.
“Such as?” You ask, and he leans in closer at that, almost unbearably so.
“fuck around and find out, Princess.”
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Turns out you can be sickeningly sweet almost when you really want to- currently happily laying on his stomach after helping him cook and wash the dishes after, awfully nice today and in a good mood.
It makes him wonder. Are you up to something? Or are you simply not who he thought you were? It would be just a slight bit disappointing, if he was to be honest- considering he’d actually grown quite fond of the idea of you with your ass spanked bright red, Jungkook basically having to work for your submission. But maybe you’re just all bark and no bite- just yapping around, nothing more than that.
Even that would be fine at this point, as long as he’s got you.
It’s when the male lead kisses the female love interest in the admittedly boring drama you both watch on TV, than he notices you staring at the scene. He’s notice too that at this point in time, one might think you would’ve kissed by now- but that’s not the case, neither of you seemingly brave enough to make that step towards the other. But it’s clear from the way you look at the scene in front of you with a shy sense of longing, that you want it- he just needs to find the perfect moment for it.
After all, he doesn’t just want to be any partner for you. He wants to be the one and only.
“I’m tired.” You yawn and stretch, arms above your head before you look at him. “can I get a goodnight-kiss?” You boldly ask, and Jungkook laughs, before he moves to basically lean over you entirely, hands pressing into the cushioning of the couch below you.
And then he finally leans in to peck your lips- or at least that was his intention. You chase after his lips and even move your hands to pull him back, making him act on instinct as he pushes them back, pins them down with his fingers around your wrists. But he has to admit, either the lip balm you’re using is sweet as honey, or he’s surely found the perfect person to kiss in you-
Because he doesn’t want to stop either.
“You said you’re tired.” He hums in when you break apart for just a second, and you shake your head.
“not anymore.” You deny his claims, making him chuckle.
“Not anymore?” He repeats, teasingly escaping your advances. You shake your head, as your legs move to rest around his waist, signals sent pretty clear to him as he watches you try and seduce him. “You’re right.. You’re clearly not yet tired.” He mumbles, as he leans down to kiss you again, letting himself be swept away by the moment, as you both just enjoy each other’s presence.
“Jungkook..” you whine impatiently, hips squirming around in search of any form of friction, while he just laughs under his breath.
“What do you want?” He asks. “this is our first time, after all. I don’t know what you like- or what you can handle.” He teases- though it’s clear that there’s an underlying truth to his words. This is indeed clearly going in a very obvious direction, and you feel warm inside knowing that he actually cares this much about your experience during this.
“I don’t know..” you admit. “I just.. always do it myself, so I don’t know.” You tell him, and he nods, accepting that as his kisses move to your neck, where he makes sure to leave his marks.
Because he wants you to be his, and his alone.
“how far do you want to go?” He asks, pausing his advances for a moment to look at you.
“All the way.” You tell him, and he nods.
“You sure?” He questions, and again, you nod- this time visibly serious.
“There’s no one I’d rather be with like that than you.” You say, and he soaks those words up like a sponge, before he leans back down to kiss you- softer now, more gentle, as if he’s savoring you and your open appreciation for him in this moment.
And he does. He really does.
And you know, through the softness of his touch and the slow and gentle manner in which he undresses you, that tonight, he’s going easy on you.
Tonight, he’s just going to show you real love.
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Something clicked into place last night.
As if he’s finally committed himself to you, he’s relaxed, comfortable and most of all; confident. And you’re strangely excited about this new side of him, because it’s unbelievably entertaining to play around with him now that he’s not holding himself back any longer.
Youre currently all laughing, some friend’s of Jungkook’s having spotted him at the grocery store with you, eager to get to know the girl who made him catch feelings. And you’re having a lot of fun hearing some embarrassing facts about your now boyfriend- who’s also laughing along, despite being the butt of the joke. Even when you make jokes about him too he doesn’t seem bothered-
Until a hand finds the back of your neck, fingers pressing down a little to make sure you know he’s got a good grip on you. And like a cat grabbed by its weak spot, you freeze, one look at him making you almost cower in public as his dark eyes gaze down at you. “yeah- but I think we’ll better head home now.” Jungkook decides to his friends, casually smiling while he says goodbye to his friends. And even when his hand leaves you, you’re strangely affected- waiting for something to happen, as he calmly brings the groceries to the car.
You must’ve gotten away this time, since he seems pretty relaxed on the way back home. Good thing you were in public.
However, once back inside your now shared four walls, things take a turn again when, instead of helping him unpack the groceries, you lounge on his sofa- TV instantly turned on as you watch, and Jungkook makes sure to put everything where it belongs by himself.
Your punishment follows late- but you know when it’s time.
The TV is wordlessly turned off, but you stop mid-breath trying to complain about it, because the smile he sends you is none of pure kindness. He looks almost like a villain ready to move on with his sinister plans, as he approaches you. “You think it’s funny, don’t you?” He asks, and when you don’t reply, he clarifies further. “you love getting on my nerves.” He states, and you have the audacity to shrug.
“What’re you gonna do about it?”
That was definitely your last mistake made- challenging him, well aware of how he will potentially punish you.
He’s quick to grab at your hips, no matter how fast you’d wanted to dash off. His grip is tight and secure as he carries you unto the bedroom, where he closes the door with his foot, putting you down on the big mattress. And there you sit- waiting, not sure what his silence means.
“Early bedtime, huh?” You scoff, trying to appear unimpressed.
“Its what you make of it.” He however answers. “this is your last chance to get on my good side, Princess.”
“or what?” You ask with an attitude, still not believing in hit bite at all.
Jungkook sits down at that, back against the door, eyes reflecting a little in the darkness of the bedroom. He’s a wolf, deep down, even if he’s mixed- he’s got time, and patience, and he knows it. He’s well aware that after yesterday’s endeavors, you’ve been trying to ‘seduce’ him all day long- wanting more, wanting it again, because as you’d told him last night, you ‘can’t do it the same he does’. It’s normal, as a hybrid-
And as someone like you in particular, who craves everything pleasurable in life.
You’re still sitting there, waiting, adjusting your position a bit, squirming under his watchful eyes. You’re not sure what he’s aiming at here, but it makes you a little uncomfortable-
Mostly because you can feel the way your underwear is soaking up your arousal over this entire situation.
“Go to sleep, baby.” He tells you with fake gentleness in his voice. “it’s late, isn’t it?”
“I don’t want to sleep.” You respond, and he chuckles.
“I know.” He tells you.
“Jungkook..” you whine, hoping this will be enough to break him. “I’m sorry..” you admit, ears drooping low, as you look at your lap in shame.
But he’s not fooled.
“try again, princess.” He simply says. “I know you’re not sorry.”
Fuck. What else could you do to get him to crack?
Manipulating him into doing what you wanted him to has worked in the past, so it shouldn’t be this hard. And he’s already seen you naked yesterday, so you don’t have to have shame about what you do next- moving your legs to give him a bit of a teaser to your soiled underwear beneath your skirt, feet digging into the bed below as you try and get under his skin this way.
“…can you help me?” You wonder, noticing how his eyes were captured by the sight for just a second.
“I can.” He nods, getting up to walk over to you- and your tail wags, triumph yours to claim. It’s still so easy to make him dance around like a puppet on strings, because down the line, he’s just another guy who’s quickly caught up in his own lust-
His face is inches from yours, eyes piercing into yours as he still got that wolfish smirk on his lips.
“But I don’t want to.”
Wait- that’s not part of the script.
“do it yourself, puppy.” He laughs, opening the bedroom door. “You know how to-“
“No!” You call out, making him turn his head over his shoulder to look at you. “I want you!” You argue, making him laugh.
“too bad.” He denies, and at that you get up, one leg out of the bed already. “get back on the bed.” He demands, and you huff.
“so you really putting me in timeout?” You scoff, stepping out with the other leg as well.
“You want to act like a brat so I’ll treat you as such.” He explains. “get back on the bed until I’m done cooking.”
“No.” You deny, walking closer.
He says your name, low and clearly in a warning, but you don’t care.
It’s then that your world turns upside down for a second, before you’re thrown back onto the bouncing mattress. You can’t help the sound that escapes your lips at his display of strength over you, a hand still on your arm to push you down. “does pissing me off make you that horny?” He asks, almost in a demeaning tone. “gushing into your panties just because you’re getting on my nerves, huh?” He continues, and your tail still wags.
“Its funny.” You admit, giggling, when a hand slaps your inner thigh, skirt having risen up to cover basically nothing anymore. “ah-!” You call out in surprise, making him laugh.
“it is.” He agrees. “it’s funny how you think you can play me.”
The next second, he’s tugging your underwear off of you, strings of sticky arousal still trying to hold onto the soiled fabric for a good stretch before the piece of clothing is thrown somewhere. “gotta get you off to make you listen?” He asks, agitated, hand between your legs a complete contrast to the gentle way he’s helped you reach highest pleasure last night. “gotta fuck you stupid so you’re finally a good girl for once?” He questions, and you just nod, frantically, overwhelmed by the way he pushes two of his fingers in already, thumb rolling over your most sensitive spot.
“Please-“ you start, but he only laughs down at you.
“Please? That’s a new sound.” He mocks you. His ruthless acts down settle down at all however- instead, he takes his hand away from you, and wipes it on his pants. You’re left alone, watching him, unsure what’s happening. “You ready to listen?” He asks. What an asshole. He knows exactly that in your state you’d accept anything-
“Why did you stop?” You whine however, and your downfall has been sealed.
Only moments later, as you try and escape, he’s on top of you, using his entire body to cage you in, hand around your throat- though he’s gentle enough to not hurt you at all. The hold he has still arches your back, pushes your behind right into him. And considering the fact that you’re on birth control, he doesn’t need to search for any other contraceptive right now, able to just pull himself out of his cotton pants, not needing much to get himself ready.
You whine in complaint when he pushes in. He knows it’s a bluff.
“oh shut up.” He growls into the back of your neck. “You can take it.” He states, well aware that you can. And it seems like finally, you’re quiet and compliant- if only after his fingers press down on your tongue, occupying your mouth with something other than whining. “so this is what it needs to shut you up?” He mocks you. “my cock inside, and my fingers in your mouth?” He purrs against your neck, and you just whimper pathetically.
His pace is steady, but he doesn’t even need to move anymore he notices- you’re for once doing all the work for him, bouncing on his lap like you’ve done this a million times already.
Your stamina does however not match up with his, as your thighs quiver, orgasm approaching you and causing you to lose tempo. Something he catches up on- taking over as he rolls his hips into you with dancer’s precision, while you emit sounds of pleasure the second his digits leave your mouth. You fall forward once he lets go of you entirely, spent.
“I’m not done with you yet.” He however days, as he manhandles you onto your back beneath him, hands tugging on your legs to move them exactly where he wants them. “wants to be fucked stupid but can’t even keep up with me.” He teases, shaking his head as he pushes his length through your thighs, remnants of your own arousal making the movement easy and slick. Your hands reach out sleepily, fingers touching the very tip every time it appears between your legs, and you giggle, visibly out of your mind.
But he notices something else too.
You look entirely relaxed, not even a glimmer of any of your usual insecurities present. You’re just existing in the moment, enjoying this, enjoying what he offers you, and nothing else.
Your head must really just be TV static.
You open your legs again, whining once more as he watches you reach for his hips- one orgasm not enough still, or maybe you just want to please him the best you can. He’s going easy on you this time, he decides, complying with your wordless demand to get back inside you, a wish he happily grants.
You don’t hold back, only shutting up when he leans down to kiss you, needy and chaotic, tongue and bitten lips. But once his hand is between you both, pushing you over the edge alongside him, you squirm once more- his release spilling inside of you, something swelling that you didn’t feel yesterday.
It’s him. He’s locking himself inside you to make sure you don’t spill any of it.
Which isn’t all that easy, since he appears to be a but of an overachiever- some of it already escaping you the second he softens up, cunt pushing out the translucent white as he pulls out of you.
You’re a mess.
Clothes somewhat still on, skin sweaty, opening between hour legs still gaping, clenching around nothing as your body calms down.
But, to be fair-
You also, finally, shut your mouth.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
“You can be so gentle!” You complain as he helps you put lotion on your skin after your shower, already back to your old self not even a couple of hours after.
“I can.” He laughs.
“But something tells me that you like it rough.”
Oh-
How right he is.
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astarionancuntnin · 3 days
Text
Die For You (Chapter 2)
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summary: following your encounter in that dark alley, you're faced with your old love. will you have the strength to stand up to him?
rating: T
word count: 2.1k
pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader)
cw: kidnapping, reader is shackled for a while, starvation (both imposed by captor and self-imposed), manipulation.
a/n: a shorter chapter and no funny business this time around cause we gotta focus on the development of their relationship while reader is in captivity. also! look out for the additional a/n at the end of the chapter! im undecided on where i want to take this so i want all of your opinions !!
previous chapter
read on ao3
or keep reading down below~
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I fell in love with someone
I don’t know
Anymore, anymore
Sometimes I wonder if you
Think of me
Anymore, anymore
-
You can't make much of what happened after he appeared. You were too shocked by the presence of your past lover to acknowledge whoever cast sleep on you, knocking you unconscious at your most vulnerable moment. Cowards. When you awaken, you’re shackled, hanging to a wall in a dark cell. You pull against the restraints to no avail; you were securely locked in.
Your struggling must’ve made too much noise, as not long afterwards, the door opens wide, revealing Astarion, alone. He was standing proud in lavish clothing, different from the ones you had seen him in at the party a few days ago, but just as proper. As much as these last few months had been awful to you, it seemed like they had been the best in his last 200 years of existence. He approaches you slowly, head held high and arms crossed in his back.
“How’s your head, my dear?”
Hearing his voice again for the first time in months triggers a wave of emotions within you. Hurt, hatred, longing… lust. You shake them away as best as you can before questioning him.
“Why did you bring me here, Astarion?”
“Why, I simply wanted to talk,” he says, his tone annoyingly playful.
“Was the kidnapping and shackles really necessary?” You slightly pull against them again to make your point; you can barely move in this condition.
“Can you blame me? Seeing how you ignored me so easily all night, and the fury in which you provoked my servants, I doubted you were going to follow me here willingly.”
You close your eyes and sigh, dropping your head, discouraged.
“Plus,” he adds, “I couldn’t take the chance to have you run out on me. I let you go once, it’s not a mistake I’ll be doing again.”
You chuckle, somehow finding a way to laugh at the situation as you raise your head back to meet his gaze. “I notice that your inability to move on wasn’t part of the many things that changed after your ascension.” 
He smiles back, amused by your wits. “I only kept the best parts, as you can see. Besides, I know you've been missing me just as much.”
“You're so full of yourself.”
“Am I? Were you not alone and miserable for all these months? Or did my spawns lie to me?”
“Wait… You’ve been spying on me?!” You exclaim in disbelief.
“Well, someone had to make sure you weren't off to get yourself killed in some stupid way.” 
You scoff, offended at this image he had of you. “I can handle my own, thank you.”
“And yet, my servants had no problems cornering you in a dark alley.” 
You open your mouth as you're about to answer back when you find yourself at a loss for words. He got you there, the prick. He notices your silence and sighs before commenting on your state.
“For someone who’s been wanting me ever since we parted, you keep playing hard to get, my dear.”
“Oh please, how am I ‘hard to get’? Hells, I was actively trying to forget about you, I never wanted to see you again. But no, you– you had to go after me.” The irony of the situation makes you laugh some more. “You have everything you’ve ever dreamed of and yet, you still couldn’t find someone new to replace me.”
He laughs lightly. “I’ve only ever wanted you, my treasure. And now,” he walks towards you with a languid pace, his hand reaching for your chin, lifting it to meet his gaze, “You're finally where you belong, where you should have always been in the first place.”
You snap your head out of his grasp. “Shackled at your feet?” You spit out.
He forcefully brings back your gaze on him, his nails grazing your cheeks, making you hiss. “By my side.” He looks at your bared teeth, smiling. “You will make a deadly consort, that I'm sure of.”
Your eyes widen as you understand the implication, and your voice rises as the fear starts to set in. “I’ll NEVER agree to this.” 
He tilts your head aside and leans in the crook of your exposed neck, his breath hot against your skin. “You don't have to. I can just take what's rightfully mine.” he whispers and that last word sends a chill down your spine.
You struggle in his grasp, trying to pull your neck away as you shout. “Don’t you DARE!”
He chuckles to himself. “Oh, don't you worry, I intend on making sure you deserve it before we get there.” He releases your face coldly but doesn’t move away from you. “But where are my manners? I almost forgot; I meant to invite you to eat.”
“I would rather starve,” you declare, leaning into that last word.
He sighs, seemingly growing tired of your attitude. “Fine, do as you wish,” he says, walking away from you. 
He leaves and you’re left on your own for Gods know how long. You spend those first hours trying to free yourself still and eventually give up when you start to feel the bruises on your wrists. You drift in and out of consciousness, fatigue affecting you more with every hour that passes. Without any source of light, it’s nearly impossible for you to tell how much time had gone by since the night you were captured. But, judging by the growling of your stomach, at least a full day had gone by, maybe even two. Your arms and legs were starting to give out on you as well, when the door before you opened to a spawn you didn't recognize. 
“Lord Ancunín invites you to dinner,” he says, composed.
“You can tell him to fuck off.” Your words don’t have the intended effect as they’re told with a shaky voice. In truth, you would kill for just a piece of bread right about now, but you would let yourself die before you complied to Astarion.
“I'm afraid that's not an option.”
Two more spawns appear behind him, and you instantly understand where this is going; this wasn't a request, it was an order. You're unshackled, although the spawns’ grips were so strong, you didn’t notice a difference, and were guided out of your cell. You reach an immense dining room, where Astarion has been waiting for you, a gold cup already to his lips. Knowing him, you suppose it’s either blood or fine wine, not that you care either way. You sink into the chair positioned at your end of the table, eyeing the food before you suspiciously. 
“Don't worry, I wouldn't dream of poisoning you. I only want what’s best for my dearest consort.”
You scoff, briefly eyeing Astarion who is sitting opposite of you before turning your attention to the contents between the two of you. You would lie to yourself if you said you weren't starving. The food laid out on the table looked delicious. The table was filled with different plates of food, each one looking better than the previous, making your stomach growl in appetite. You could practically drool all over the place, but you didn’t want to give Astarion the satisfaction of seeing you cave in. Not yet, not so soon. You wouldn’t let him get the best of you. 
Astarion quickly understands your intentions, with you staring right back at him, and he sighs, rolling his eyes.
“It wouldn’t be wise to let yourself starve, pet. You wouldn’t want to waste all this delicious food, would you? Don’t be shy, at least take a bite.”
You're tempted, but against your better judgement, you ignore the mouth-watering meal, crossing your arms in defiance. He rolls his eyes, matching your attitude.
“As you wish.”
He snaps his fingers and the two spawns that brought you here move towards you, reaching for your arms. You stand up abruptly, pulling away from them in a defensive stance. Astarion speaks up, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice.
“Come on now, my lovely assistants only want to bring you back to your cell for the night.”
“I know the way.”
“I insist.”
Your fatigue and hunger get the best of you; you simply don’t have the energy to fight. 
“Fine.”
“That’s my girl.”
You hate the effect he still has on you. He knows just what to say to get to you.
You shoot him a deadly glare and feel your breathing quickening as your heart races with anger and your nails dig through your palms. He smiles pretentiously at you, and you’re overcome with thoughts of jumping onto him and punching his stupid face, making him regret everything he’s done to you these last few days. If it wasn’t for the awful twist in your gut, you might have. You shut your eyes closed as you look away, frowning, before you start walking away and the two vampire spawns accompany you to your cell, where you let yourself slouch over the rock wall. At least, they didn't restrain you again.
Once again alone with your thoughts, your mind drifts to your companions. Specifically Shadowheart; would she still be waiting for you? Would she be looking for you? You wish you had a way to contact her, let her know you need help. Your thoughts are interrupted by a stabbing feeling in your gut, again. Maybe you should’ve taken a bite, just a small one, just to keep you going… No, this was a game to him, you needed to hold on. The pain is good, you try to convince yourself, it’s a reminder that I’m alive, mortal, and I’ll fight to keep it that way as long as I can. 
Another wretched tenday passes and you avoid the food still. Every day follows the same routine: you’re woken up, Astarion’s spawns bring you to the large dining room where you’ll refuse to eat anything, until he gets bored of your attitude and you’ll be brought back to your cell, three times a day. You sense how Astarion is getting annoyed at you, and it strengthens your resolve. However, you hate to admit it, but you’re becoming weaker and weaker. You spend most of the passing days asleep, unable to think straight through your hunger, and too exhausted to do anything else. 
Finally, you cave in.
As you're brought to the dining room for dinner, your gaze falls upon your favourite meal, presented before you. For the first time in days, your façade breaks down, you have eyes for nothing else other than the meal in front of you. Had this been given to you on the first day, you would’ve gladly turned it down, but you didn’t have that kind of resolve anymore. Astarion snaps you out of your reverie by mentioning the name of the plate, and you raise your eyes to meet his.
“You had asked me what my favourite meal was and I couldn’t remember.” His tone is gentle. “It had been so long that everything tasted like garbage. Even wine tasted like pure vinegar. It frustrated me. That’s when you told me about yours: Baldurian Mash. You described it in such great detail, I could almost taste it myself.” He pauses, and you look up to meet his gaze. “I wanted to give you what I couldn't have. A chance to remember.”
You can’t stop the tears from swelling up. You’re famished, completely drained, and mentally spent; this was the last straw. You grab the gold-plated utensil with a shaky hand and dig into the plate, shoving that first bite in your mouth. It’s even better than you remember it. You chew on that first bite longer than necessary, relishing the taste of the meal. It’s comforting, filling, it tastes like home; it’s everything you’ve wanted and more. You are so hungry that you end up ravishing the rest of it, barely taking the time to savour it properly past that first mouthful. Your belly growls, this time content with the food you finally gave it. After so many days resting on an empty stomach, you can't afford to eat anything else. You smile unconsciously as you lay back in your chair, satisfied with your meal, before getting up to leave, following the usual routine.
You stop in your tracks near the door and slightly turn around towards the ascendant, pausing before the words escape your lips.
“Thank you.”
As you walk away, you miss the devilish grin forming on his lips.
Everything was going perfectly according to his plan.
-
Familiar faces that look like you
They tend to
Mess with my head just like it's deja vu
It's always
Right when I think I’m getting over you
That it feels
Like I have salt inside an open wound
A/N²: POLL TIME
i already have another chapter written which wont be affected by this poll. BUT for the chapters that will follow, i need a direction since its going to change how i approach the writing (dialogues and important actions are going to be different based on the outcome)
i do have an idea for each option, i just need to know whats the vibe cause i cant decide myself (bisexual moment)
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half-oz-eddie · 1 day
Text
Abuse, violence tw
Steve was in his living room enjoying a quiet, uneventful night.
Yes, uneventful. His favorite sort of night, these days. Exactly 3 months ago, the nightmare which was the Mind Flayer had plagued the city, taking dozens of people's lives along with it.
Steve still had a terrible ringing in his ears, neglecting the probably needed medical attention as usual.
As he enjoyed some nightly news and KFC, he heard a thump coming from upstairs.
He was home alone, as he was most nights.
Steve turned down the TV, startled when he'd heard the thumping again.
He didn't know what to expect. In a town like Hawkins, a town with monsters and alternate dimensions, that sound could be anything.
Steve grabbed one of his dad's golf clubs and slowly ascended the steps. He heard the sound of his window slowly sliding shut as he reached the top of the steps.
He crept to his room and swung the door open, gasping at the sight, nearly swinging his golf club.
"Wait wait wait!" A familiar voice exclaimed in the darkness.
Steve slowly lowered the club. "...Hargrove?" He shook his head. "No way, we watched you die."
"I didn't die. I woke up in the morgue and some...guys and a lady in suits came right away and—and they sedated me and brought me to some lab to...study me. They kept running all these tests on me and shocking me until I would flatline."
"So...what you can't die?"
"I dunno, maybe I can. But I don't wanna die."
"I just..." Steve shook his head in disbelief. "I don't get it. I-I watched you...take a tentacle through the chest. How are you alive?"
"Because whatever that...dark shadow thing did to me...it changed my body. My...organs can like...regenerate."
"That's...uh...that's...pretty cool."
"I dunno, whatever, I guess. Look, I'm sorry about before. About everything. The fight, being an asshole, trying to kill everyone—"
"The last part wasn't your fault, but I'll forgive you for everything else." Steve finally disarmed himself and set the golf club on his bed.
"So, uh..."
There was a loud urgent banging on the door. They looked at one another with wide eyes.
"Do they have a tracker on you?"
"I ditched it before I came here."
"Why exactly did you come here?"
"Because no one would expect me to come here."
The banging could be heard once more.
"Please, Harrington. Please don't tell anyone I'm here. I'm begging you."
Steve left his room without another word, descending the steps.
"Alright, alright, I'm comin'!" He shouted before swinging the door open. "Can I help you?"
"Hello again, Mr. Harrington. Do you remember me?"
"Yeah, sure. How can I help you, agents?"
"A...subject escaped from our lab. He may or may not have disguised himself as Billy Hargrove, the young man who was under the influe—"
"I know who he is. So there's some...thing shapeshifting as Billy?"
"That's correct. If you have any information about the subject's whereabouts, we need you to tell us."
"Did you check Max's house?"
"Of course."
If there was anything Steve learned from all this, it was not to trust the government, especially after how they tried to cover up Will's disappearance.
"Well, you're at the wrong place. Billy and I hated each other. There's no way he, or something disguised as him would think I'd even let him in the door."
The agent nodded. "Understandable. But if you do encounter the subject, do not engage." He held out a card. "Call us immediately."
"Yeah, sure thing. G'night." He waited until the agents piled into their cars and drove away before making his way to the steps, stopping mid-step.
What if what they said was true?
He shook the thought away. As if he'd trust those agents.
But, that didn't stop him from wondering about it. What if this shapeshifter knew Billy hated Steve and saw him as an easy mark to kill?
Maybe he was overthinking it.
He returned upstairs, finding Billy cowering beneath his desk.
"You can come out now."
Billy slowly crawled out. "Are they gone?"
"Yep. I told them they came to the wrong place because you'd never come here."
"That's exactly why I'm here. I'm so glad I was able to trust you."
"But can I trust you?"
"Whaddya mean?"
"If you're the real Billy, do you remember what you said to me in the shower at school that one time?"
"When I told you there're plenty of bitches in the sea and I'd be—"
"Sure to leave me some, yeah." Steve chuckled. "You really got under my skin."
"That was kinda the point."
"So uh...what are you gonna do now?"
"Can I stay here?'
Steve's eyes widened. "Here?!"
"Just for tonight. I swear I'll be gone before sunrise."
Steve reached over and flipped his light switch.
"Jesus..." He whispered to himself in disbelief.
In the bedroom lighting, he was able to see the marks that covered Billy's shirtless body, and the oversized collar around his neck. He couldn't understand how he was able to make it to his house in the cold in only a pair of shorts, with that big contraption around his neck.
"What...is that thing?" Steve asked, slowly approaching.
"It's a shock collar. Like they put on fucking animals. I guess they saw me as an animal too."
"Can you take it off?"
"No, it's...screwed on."
"I—stay here. I'll take it off you."
Steve raced to his garage and grabbed the tool kit. He approached Billy with a screwdriver in hand, pitying him as he backed further into the corner.
"It's alright, man. I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna get that contraption off of you."
Billy stepped out of the corner, allowing Steve to slowly unscrew the collar, revealing a neck covered in nicks and burns.
"You...want a shower? Maybe some food?"
"Please. I haven't eaten in months."
"What?"
"I've just been sustained with a fucking IV." He showed Steve the bruising from the ripped out IV.
"Go. Use the shower. I'll bring something upstairs for you."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, go ahead. It's down the hall to the left."
"Thanks."
Steve watched as Billy disappeared down the hall and into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.
He went back downstairs, grabbed the rest of his food and split it into 2 plates, before deciding maybe Billy should have it all and he can have a bowl of cereal if he got hungry again.
Steve brought the plate upstairs and grabbed some clothes from his dresser, then knocked on the bathroom door.
"It's just me." He called out. "Got some clothes here for you."
Billy turned the shower off and opened the door, gently grasping the clothes.
"Food's in my room when you're ready."
Billy nodded, gently closing the door.
Steve sat at his desk, sighing to himself. He loudly groaned when he heard his phone ringing downstairs.
"How many times am I gonna have to walk up and down these goddamn stairs?" He mumbled to himself.
"Hello?"
"Steve? Dude, did you hear?!" Dustin exclaimed.
"Yeah, I heard."
"Is it really a shapeshifter? Or is it actually Billy?"
"I dunno, Dustin, but I don't think we should talk about this over the phone. Maybe we can meet up tomorrow after school."
"Yeah—okay, yeah! Can you pick me up from school?"
Steve sighed. "Sure thing, buddy."
"Cool, later Steve!"
Steve hung up the phone, sighing to himself before returning upstairs to find Billy wolfing down the food, spilling crumbs all over his bed.
"Oh, sorry...did you want some?"
"No, I uh...I already ate."
Billy proceeded to wolf down his food, and Steve just sat there, with so many questions in his mind.
"That was good. Thanks, pretty boy. Want me to wash my dish—"
"No. It-it's fine. You should probably stay up here. I'll go sleep on the couch—"
"No! I-I mean...I don't wanna put you out. I should—I should sleep on the floor."
"In your condition? I can't let you do that." Steve shook his head in contest.
"I just..." Billy sighed. "I don't want to be alone."
Steve looked into Billy's frightened eyes. "They really hurt you in that lab, huh?"
Billy nodded.
This wasn't the Billy steve once knew, but he wasn't a shapeshifter, or a clone, or whatever bullshit the government agents tried to feed him. This was the real Billy. A scared young guy who had been abused relentlessly.
"I'll stay with you tonight. We can listen to the radio until we fall asleep, yeah?"
"You don't think they'll come back, do you?"
"Those agents? No..." Steve paused. "Probably not."
Billy disappointedly sighed.
"I could...stay awake. If it'll help you sleep easier." Steve suggsted.
"I don't want you to do that either. Let's just...sleep. However much we can."
Billy huddled close to the wall while Steve turned on the radio on low volume then crawled into the bed. He placed a pillow between himself and Billy.
This is so weird. Steve thought as he stared at Billy. He watched the pitiful mess sleep peacefully on the left side of his bed.
When Billy rolled over and draped his arm over Steve's shoulder, he initially thought to move it, but, he chose not to. Instead, he reached over and caressed his cheek, a tender moment shared between Billy and the only person who knew he was still alive.
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berrygoodjob · 3 days
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Hiii do you have any bf headcanons for Sho, Ren, Haku, Rui, and Jiro?
Tokyo Debunkers as boyfriends hcs pt 2
including: Ren, Rui, Jiro, Lucas, Haku
Part one
Ren Shiranami
—he just wants to cuddle up and watch horror movies with you
—he’s gonna make a blanket nest for the two of you with all sorts of snacks and things so you don’t have to get up during the movie
—he’ll definitely hold onto you and keep you comforted during the scary scenes 🩷
— very much a tsundere at first. He’ll be like “ugh, it’s not like i like you,,,,” but then he’ll just think about you 24/7, he always wants you around, and even Haru noticed how much better his mood always becomes when you’re around.
—he likes when you hold him. He’ll definitely complain, but he’ll get so butthurt if you stop. Like “ugh, why do you keep holding onto me…… Wait I didn’t say to let go,,, I guess you can keep it up,,,,” but on the inside his heart is racing and he’s so happy to have you there (and it shows on his blushing face)
— can and will complain about the jabberwok house anytime something weird happens.
—haru has come through his window before in the middle of one of your horror movie dates. You all screamed, Ren nearly attacked Haru.
Rui Mizuki
—he wants to hold you. He wants to kiss you all over. He wants it so bad, but he won’t come near you.
—he’s so scared of his curse hurting you. He gets so sad to think about what could happen even if he accidentally gets too close
—he always makes sure to wear a protective layer when you’re around.
—since he can’t touch you, he shows his love in other ways. He flirts a lot but only with you. He dropped the flirting with others the second you came into the picture
—he plans all sorts of cute dates with you, from picnics to fancy dinners.
—he gives you so much praise and reassurance, and he’s always ready to lend an ear if you’re having any sort of issue no matter how small or insignificant it may be
—he does all the stereotypical gentleman things like holding doors open for you, buying you flowers, he’s paying for all your dates, etc.
—if you come visit him while he’s working his heart may just explode from joy. He’s just so happy to see you. He’ll make a drink that you’ll love solely based on your personality.
Jiro Kirisaki
— He never really understood the appeal of a relationship until you came along.
—he was very confused by his own emotions at first.
—he went to Yuri to ask if it was some kind of mental disorder because he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Yuri informed him that it was likely just a crush, then told him to get back to work.
—Jiro now as your boyfriend, really tries his best to understand every little thing that goes on in your head
—he’s made a mental list of all the tiniest reactions you have to everything in your daily life. Every. Single. Thing.
—he’ll confide in you about how rough his job can be and how exhausted he is.
—sometimes in the middle of cuddling with him, he’ll start giving you a health evaluation. He says it saves time and is more efficient if he just does it then and there.
—he’s like a puppy and will do anything you tell him to, from tying your shoes to even making sure to get more rest.
—will give a lot of random fact on a very wide variety of topics. Sometimes you’ll just be chillin and he’ll turn and say the most out of pocket thing then go back to being silent like it was nothing.
Lucas Errant
—he’s so protective of you.
—he wants to be your best friend and boyfriend all in one.
—he really will do anything for you too.
—he likes to stand right beside you, he’s not huge on pda, but he thinks just standing by your side and being in your presence is the best
—he’ll really open up to you and be much more vulnerable about his life before darkwick along with his twin and his home life
—behind closed doors he’ll cuddle up against you and really relax, he gets SO SO nervous that you’ll slip away from him. So he always makes sure to tell you how much he loves and cares for you.
—Man will write down a physical list of date ideas and ask you to rank your top three. And he’ll take you on those dates and make them as special as he can.
—also does all the stereotypical gentleman things, you will never touch any door ever again.
—he likes to follow you around and help you with whatever it is you’re doing. Also likes to have study dates with you!!
Haku Kusanagi
—honestly he works so hard to keep everything sailing smoothly, he’d do the same in a relationship.
—he always does his best to keep you happy and comfortable at darkwick academy. He checks up on you a lot, but also leaves you space to figure things out. He knows darkwick can be a little overwhelming
—he likes to take walks with you around Hotarubis grounds, even if it’s a little gloomy.
—he feels so content just existing beside you. Hell make you tea and just sit in the gardens and admire you.
—he tells you a lot about his family and the shrine, he gets very vulnerable. So please reassure him that he’s doing great and remind him to take breaks.
—if you praise him at anything he’ll make sure to do that thing around you more. You like the way he makes tea? He brews you some every time you’re over. You like the smell of his new shampoo? He’ll use it every time before he sees you.
—You compliment his looks and he’ll turn into a flustered mess. It’s funny to see someone so easygoing get so red and start stuttering.
—gives forehead kisses or presses his forehead to yours sometimes to just destress from all the damage control he has to do for his fellow students.
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moodymisty · 11 hours
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Getting it in at the last minute hopefully, but one thing that's on the brain is Chapter Serfs, the mortals who do a collection of jobs on fortress monasteries and are devoted to certain chapters. They're treated a whole range of ways depending on the chapter from "worse than slaves" to "members of the family". I've read somewhere that the Raven Guard treat their Serfs surprisingly well given they're all Spooky Scary, but I wanna know what you think!
Also on the brain is a serf worrying about her Raven Guard battle brother constantly, and being extremely gentle and doting on him because like... Look at him, being a space marine seems like an extremely painful existence.
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[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]
Author's note: This is a cute idea, and I want to write more Raven Guard. I hope you enjoy this little snippet!
Relationships: Unnamed Raven Guard/Gn!Reader (could be read platonic or very slightly romantic if you really squinted)
Warnings: Mentions of wounds like burns, Your astartes being apathetic about the whole thing
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You almost have everything you think you'll need, looking over the spread of materials along the small table. If you've forgotten anything you hope he'll be as forgiving as the last times; As he always is.
The Raven's Valour has moored at Deliverance and you know his arrival is imminent; You'll finally be able to see him again. It's been months and while you serve the other Raven Guard with nothing but respect, there's something about your Raven Guard that is special. That has his arrival stirring your stomach.
It's become harder to even sleep without him nearby. You sleep in his private quarters with him- many of the serfs tending to higher rank Raven Guard do. The reasoning seems to be so you're always available to serve them, but too many of them seem to just like their serf's company to make it an excuse that doesn’t get doubted for a moment.
You hear the door open and quickly turn, spotting his wide shoulders and dark hair. Moments later however, you see that on areas not covered by his robes is what looks to be burns of some kind; Mostly chemical. It has that distinctive look, compared to a burn from a flame. He has other jagged cuts as well, but the burns are the most dramatic and eye catching.
"What happened?"
You say surprised, watching him sit down on the small bed and push his robes off his back. You can see his back is almost burned, and even though he has no reaction there isn't any way the cloth of his robes against his skin hadn't hurt.
You can also see the sores and dents where his armor weighed on him; in the weeks of nonstop use.
"We encountered heretics worshiping Nurgle. There were far more than expected, and they’ve learned new tricks."
He says little more than that, which doesn't surprise you. He isn't very talkative, particularly about these sorts of things. You presume his mission didn't go well if what little he gave was any indicator.
"I, I'm going to go get some things to help you, I'll be right back."
You quickly rush to grab any of the things you think will help, though much of it is more so for the humans around Deliverance than the astartes. The general consensus is they simply deal with the pain until it stops- that using healing solutions is a waste unless needed to preserve their life. you don't want him stay like this. He deserves more for protecting humanity; For protecting you.
"Here. This should help all of this heal."
You expected him to resist you, but you're surprised when he doesn't. You crawl onto the small bed and get behind him, holding your materials in your lap. He lets you come closer and apply medicine to all of his wounds, careful around the interface ports lining his back and shoulders. They run all along his back, digging directly into his spinal cord. They’re surrounded by old scars, and you fear it’ll hurt if you aren’t gentle.
You brush some burn cream over the massive one spanning his shoulder blade and he shifts, causing you to pull away for a moment.
"I'm sorry if this hurts, my lord."
He grunts at you, and you don't quite know if he's just responding, or scolding you for the use of title. Either way you eventually continue, but far more cautious.
You continue tending to his wounds, cleaning them and applying medicine to speed up his already incredibly fast healing. You know he doesn’t need it; But you know it will at least help. He's silent almost the entire time, until he turns to look at you over his shoulder.
"I can hear you thinking." You look up from his wounded shoulderblade.
You're thinking that he deserves better than this; To not be in pain, and treated like a weapon to be thrust at the enemy, and then be left in pain he's been trained to ignore. Or at least refuse to show.
"Sorry," Is all you can mutter, however. He looks at you for a moment longer, and you notice his dark eyes flicker around your face before he turns back around.
Once his wounds are as well as you can make them you rake your fingers through his black hair, until it's untangled enough to pull it back. Once you're finished, he looks towards towards the top of his bed. His hand tugs the thin fabric draping over it.
"You slept in it," He says bluntly and out of the blue, catching you red handed. You're still kneeling on the bed behind him, wringing your hands.
"I couldn't sleep one night. I was worried since the Raven's Valour was gone longer than you'd said it would be." He turns, and you notice a very small smile on his face.
"Do not worry about me so much." You look away, and you don't know why your eyes suddenly feel so watery.
"If I don't, then who else will?"
His small smile stays, but you notice something change in his look that you can't quite place.
And before you have a chance to even try he reaches a hand up, and rustles the top of your head. Afterwards, he cups your jaw with the same hand and keeps you facing him.
Don't worry little raven, I'll be fine."
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theramblingvoid · 11 months
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I think the biggest thing about Sunless Skies that gives it a different feel than Fallen London (other than the obvious gameplay differences) is the position of your player in the universe. In Flondon, your character is important and singular. The storyline is oriented around mastery and influence: starting from the bottom and climbing to the top, gaining recognition and reach as you unravel the world's secrets. While social play is encouraged, there are few in-game characters comparable to the PC, and in many plotlines the idea of being the only or the first one to accomplish a certain thing is specifically emphasized. The story is about what path you take to Make Your Name.
In Sskies, that goal is not absent, but there's a sense of...fleetingness, that never quite leaves you. There are many others like you. You see their entries in the cache logs, they are mentioned in the ports and pubs, you find their frozen bodies littering the open void like stones. It is the very first thing you know when you start: you are a Captain filling the shoes of a predecessor, and in all likelihood simply keeping them warm for the next to come after you, and the next. Your time is limited. Your significance to the wild, vast, ancient skies is negligible. The drive in the story comes from this: Your space in this universe is small and hard fought. Make it count.
#fallen london#sunless skies#i would say I like the sskies version better but honestly I think they both work great for their own applications#both in setting and for the way the games are played#I've seen the flondon fame gathering thing criticized occasionally but honestly I've always read it as like#a tongue in cheek parody on rich Victorian ego#as well as being inherently flexible,because of how players tend to treat the stories#for some it will be about doing Everything,but for most it's about getting a wide choice of what to focus on and how to specialize#in a character development sense#and also the story really is about How you get there and who you are while doing so#what with the quirks and everything#that's a mechanic that's notably absent from sskies#probably because your character is meant to be less permanent and less noticeable as an individual#most of the in-game character defining you do relates to building out their past with facets#because their present and future are so tentative and so embedded in the bigger picture#I really really like it. it's almost like the world is more the character#but ALSO the feel of like. the game does not treat loss lightly. there are Implications and narrative even for the loss of unnamed crew#it all also plays in so so nicely to the switch from flondon's tightly controlled sheltered chaos#(enclosed in a cave,tightly governed by the Bazaar,the sense of a new world building itself on top of older ones)#vs the Reach being so open and fraught and wild and legitimately teetering on the brink in every way#the way the characters are treated fits so so well into the political landscapes too#like. sskies is wartime.#the messaging that you the individual is fleeting and disposable and that it's what you donate your effort to that matters is Constant#so it works really really well there#oh now I want to go on again about how well the flondon way works in a meta sense for gameplay and community building#because it's emphasizing individuality while also paired so heavily with social actions and -#ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu#hey gang have i mentioned. I like fallen london a lot. hey have i mentioned yet that I like flondon A Lot#voidrambles#<- It Sure Does
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fushic0re · 5 months
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𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐓?
𝗗𝗔𝗗!𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝘅 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥
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𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟖 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ in which you and satoru finally have some alone time…except baby gojo is vigilantly watching for santa’s arrival.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. SMUT; penetrative sex, trying to keep it quiet, getting caught. baby gojo being an especially cute cockblock. 
꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡
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“TORU–” YOU PANT AGAINST YOUR HUSBAND’S EAR. 
Satoru grunts in response. His large hands tighten around the meat of your thighs, his fingers leaving an indentation against your skin from his grip. His hips move with more vigor, pounding into you wildly as he loses every piece of himself to pull of your velvety walls. Each thrust draws him deeper and deeper into your heat, a feeling he missed oh so much. While fatherhood was the biggest calling of his life and his proudest accomplishment, he definitely missed the spontaneous aspect of his relationship with you–quickies in places you most definitely should not be having sex in, watching you cook and deciding then and there to bend you over the kitchen counter to have his way with you, being late to commitments because he decided to spend an extra hour or two in bed with you, the whole nine yards. 
You were everything–a mother, the woman who birthed the first Gojo heir in years, an amazing sorcerer. But you were his girl before everything else. And now that your son was asleep after the sugar crash he had from too many cookies at the Christmas Eve party, it was prime time for him to remind you of just how much he loved you. 
“Hah…shit–” 
“Mama? Dada?” 
Time freezes for a moment as do you and Satoru, staring at each other as your bodies stiffen as if remaining oh so still will make your son unsee the sight before his innocent eyes. You quickly snap out of it, yanking the throw blanket hanging from the back of the couch and wrapping it around you both. To the innocent eye, it looks as if you and your husband were just having a cuddle. Satoru follows suit, lifting his blindfold off to stare at his son lovingly. 
“What’s up, little man? You should be sleeping that sugar rush off.” He chuckles, completely unphased by the fact that your son had just walked in on the both of you. 
The Gojo heir rubs his sleepy eyes with his small fists. 
“Is Santa here yet? Y-Yuuji said he would be here soon…” He mumbles, his little voice raspy. 
You look at Satoru with wide eyes for a moment before nervously laughing as you pull the blanket tighter around your bare forms. 
“No, baby. Santa doesn’t come until very, very late when all you babies are fast asleep. Go back to sleep, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure. 
Your son is just about to walk off when his eyes fully register what is in front of him. Under the impression that you have been fully caught, you slap your husband’s chest. 
“Do something.” You hiss. 
“I don’t know, babe, this is kinda funny–” 
“I told you too much sugar would mess with his sleep schedule! I told you!” 
“Okay, but how was I supposed to know Yuuji was going to get him all Santa-crazed–” 
“Because you are his dad! Dads know these things!”
“...You sayin’ I’m a DILF?” 
“A..Are you guys c-cuddling without m-me?” 
You and Satoru’s incessant bickering comes to a halt. Both of your hearts break at the sight of those big blue eyes welling up with tears, that pouty bottom lip trembling as he clutches his blanket for comfort. Just like that, your shared kryptonite had rendered you both fightless. When your son cried, angels cried for him. Satoru springs into action, pulling on his boxers and scooping your son up into his arms. You try your best to, but the ache and empty feeling in between your legs cannot be ignored. 
“I’m sorry, buddy. Your momma wanted daddy all for herself because she gets jealous.” Satoru dramatically wails, hugging your baby and rocking him in his arms. 
You gasp as you stare at him incredulously. Was he seriously throwing you under the bus? Turning you against your own son?
“Excuse me?!” 
“Come on, let daddy take you to bed for some snuggles aaaaaalll by yourself!” He cries out once more. 
With that, Satoru easily diverted the situation. He grins at you as he carries your baby boy back to bed, the latter falling asleep in the comfort of his arms as he does so.
“Bad mommy.” Your little one murmurs as his father descends down the hallway, leaving you floored. 
Satoru Gojo would receive one, and only one, gift that year….blue balls. And not in the form of ornaments. 
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© all rights reserved to fushic0re — do not translate, repost, or plagiarize.
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 4 months
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SFX Magazine Issue 372 - Designing Good Omens ❤ 😊
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PRODUCTION DESIGNER MICHAEL RALPH REVEALS HOW THE SHOW’S CENTREPIECE SET, WHICKBER STREET, WAS GIVEN A DEVILISHLY CLEVER UPGRADE FOR THE SECOND SEASON
WORDS: DAVE GOLDER
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Invisible Columns And Thin Walls “The new studio is Pyramid Studios in Bathgate – it used to be a furniture warehouse. And unfortunately – or fortunately, because I accept these things as not challenges but gifts – right down the middle of that studio are a series of upright columns. But you’ll never spot them on screen. I had to build them in and integrate them into the walls and still get the streets between them. And it worked.
“There’s all sorts of cheeky design values to those sets. Normally a set like this is double-skin. In other words, you do an interior wall and an exterior wall, with an airspace in between. But really, the only time a viewer notices that there’s that width is at the doors and the windows. So I cheated all that. I ended up with single walls everywhere. So the exterior wall is the interior wall, just painted. All I did was make the sash windows and entrances wider to give it some depth as you walked in.”
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GOOD OMENS HAD A CHANGE of location for its second season, but hopefully you didn’t notice. Because Whickber Street in Soho upped sticks from an airfield in Hertfordshire to a furniture warehouse in Bathgate, Edinburgh. It’s the kind of nonsensical geographical shenanigans that could only make sense in the crazy world of film and TV, and production designer Michael Ralph was the man in charge of rebuilding and expanding the show’s vast central set. “I wish we could have built more in season one than we did,” says Ralph, whose previous work has included Primeval and Dickensian. “We built the ground floor of everything and the facades of all the shops. But we didn’t build anything higher than that, because we were out on an airfield in a very, very difficult terrain and weather conditions, so we really couldn’t go much higher. Visual effects created the upper levels.”
But with season two the set has gone to a whole other level… literally. “What happened was that the rest of the street became integrated into the series’s storyline,” explains Ralph. “So we needed a record shop, we needed a coffee shop that actually had an inside, we needed a magic shop, we needed the pub. To introduce those meant we had to change the street with a layout that works from a storylines point of view. In other words, things like someone standing at the counter in the record shop had to be able to eyeball somebody standing at the counter in the coffee shop. They had to be able to eyeball Aziraphale sitting in his office in the window of the bookshop. But the rest of it was a pleasure to do inside, because we could expand it and I could go up two storeys.”
For most of the set, which is around 80 metres long and 60 metres wide, the two storeys only applied to the shop frontages, but in the case of Aziraphale’s bookshop, it allowed Ralph to build the mezzanine level for real this time. According to Ralph it became one of the cast and crews’ favourite places to hang out during down time.
But while AZ Fell & Co has grown in height, it actually has a slightly smaller footprint because of the logistics of adapting it to the new studio.
“Everybody swore to me that no one would notice,” says Ralph wryly. “I walked onto it and instinctively knew there was a difference immediately, and they hated me for that. I have this innate sense about spatial awareness and an eye like a spirit level.
“It’s not a lot, though – I think we’ve lost maybe two and a half feet on the front wall internally. I think that there’s a couple of other smaller areas, but only I’d notice. So I can be really annoying to my guys, but only on those levels. Not on any other. They actually quite like me…”
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Populating The Bookshop “The props in the new bookshop set were a flawless reproduction from the set decorator Bronwyn Franklin [who is also Ralph’s wife]. It was really the worst-case scenario after season one. She works off the concept art that I produce, but what she does is she adds so much more to the character of the set. She doesn’t buy anything she doesn’t love, or doesn’t fit the character.
“But the things she put a lot of work into finding for season one, they were pretty much one-offs. When we burnt the set down in the sixth episode, we lost a lot of props, many of which had been spotted and appreciated by the fans. So Bronwyn had to discover a new set decorating technique: forensic buying.
“She found it all – duplicates and replicas. It took ages. In that respect, the Covid delay was very helpful for Bron. There’s 7,000 books in there and there’s not one fake book. That’s mainly because… it’s a weird thing to say, but we wanted it to smell and feel like a bookshop to everybody that was in it, all the time.
“It affects everybody subliminally; it affects everybody’s performance – actors and crew – it raises the bar 15 to 20%. And the detail, you know… We love a lot of detail.”
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(look at the description under this, they called him 'Azi' hehehehe :D <3)
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Aziraphale’s Inspirational Correspondence “There’s not one single scrap of paper on Aziraphale’s desk that isn’t written specifically for Aziraphale. Every single piece is not just fodder that’s been shoved there, it has a purpose; it’s a letter of thanks, or an enquiry about a book or something.
“Michael Sheen is so submerged in his character he would get lost sitting at his own desk, reading his own correspondence between takes. I believe wholeheartedly that if you put that much care into every single piece of detail, on that desk and in that room, that everybody feels it, including the crew, and then they give that set the same respect it deserves.
“They also lift their game because they believe that they’re doing something of so much care and value. Really, it’s a domino effect of passion and care for what you’re producing.”
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Alternative Music “My daughter Mickey is lead graphic designer [two of Ralph’s sons worked on the series too, one as a concept artist, the other in props]. They’re the ones that produced all of that handwritten work on the desk. She’s the one that took on the record shop and made up 80 band names so that we didn’t have to get copyright clearance from real bands. Then she produced records and sleeves that spanned 50, 60 years of their recordings, and all of the graphics on the walls.
“I remember Michael and Neil [Gaiman] getting lost following one band’s history on the wall, looking at their posters and albums desperately trying to find out whether they survived that emo period.”
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It’s A Kind Of Magic One of the new shops in Whickber Street for season two was Will Goldstone’s Magic Shop, which is full of as many Easter eggs as off-the-shelf conjuring tricks, including a Matt Smith Doctor Who-style fez and a toy orang-utan that’s a nod to Discworld’s The Librarian. Ralph says that while the series is full of references to Gaiman, Pratchett and Doctor Who, Michael Sheen never complained about a lack of Masters Of Sex in-jokes. “He’d be the last person to make that sort of comment!”
Ralph also reveals that the magic shop counter was another one of his wife’s purchases, bought at a Glasgow reclamation yard.
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The Anansi Boys Connection Ralph reveals that Good Omens season two used the state-of-the-art special effects tech Volume (famous for its use in The Mandalorian to create virtual backdrops) for just one sequence, but he will be using it extensively elsewhere on another Gaiman TV series being made for Prime Video.
“We used Volume on the opening sequence to create the creation of the universe. I was designing Anansi Boys in duality with this project, which seems an outrageously suicidal thing to do. But it was fantastic and Anansi Boys was all on Volume. So I designed for Volume on one show and not Volume on the other. The complexities and the psychology of both is different.”
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indecisivemuch · 3 months
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Scandalous
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: The reveal of a scandalous detail about yours and Luke's relationship left you both flustered and everybody else gaping. Inspired by one line from So It Goes - Taylor Swift (fluff, established relationship).
Warning: allusions to sex, but no explicit details.
Word count: 2k
You and Luke have been going out for well over a year now. Yet, he never failed to make you feel like it would be an eternal honeymoon phase: whispers of sweet words about a lifetime’s worth of promises, delicate and sacred touches, looks filling in for unspoken words.
Loving Luke was as easy as having a daily routine - so natural and almost like a grounding thing from the life of a Demigod.
Currently, Luke was training with Percy. You were not too far away either, sparring with Clarisse. Despite the area being occupied by many other Demigods engaging in similar activities, Luke could not help but frequently glance over at you.
Luke has always been mesmerized by the way you combat, which he metaphorically compared to a ballerina. So precise, yet deadly. Every move was with intention and purpose. 
The way sweat glided down the side of your face, your cheeks flushed from fighting, eyes darting with strategy, heavy pants in between dodging and attacking your opponent, the smirk hinted on your face - all of it made Luke’s mind grow flustered. Somehow, he found everything you do attractive.
If he was honest, his mind seemed to be doing nothing lately but think of you, especially when you’re not beside him. The memories he has harvested over your time together only transformed his brain into a cinema, which constantly played montages of you. Every morning, he’d wake up from a dream about you to the sight of you in his arms - that is before he had to sneak out of your cabin back to his. You constantly occupy every cell in his mind, like an uncontainable virus spreading. Yet, for some reason, he was not scared. He welcomed this feeling with his whole arms wide open.
You broke eye contact with Clarisse to look at Luke. Almost instantly, your eyes melted into ones filled with adoration and his own eyes mirrored the same emotions - if not tenfold. 
You were absolutely enamored with how Luke looked at you. Even before dating each other, people have mentioned the eyes he was giving you. But being oblivious, you did not see what they were talking about. However, it all became clear when you started dating. You started noticing how he would look at you like you were a rare artwork he would most likely never see again or a shooting star - a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence kind of thing that left him in awe all the time. He would do it so endearingly as if it would help to absorb every detail of you and imprint them into his memory. His looks have always made you feel loved - like you were the only thing that mattered to him, as if he has not told you this verbally and through actions already. Usually, you’d feel slightly insecure if somebody was staring so intensely at you, but he did it in a way that made you feel like your flaws were created to be loved for. 
However, a gasp escaped your lips as Luke was showered by a wave of the ocean. Everybody else also drew their attention to the head of Hermes’ cabin and the newly claimed Poseidon kid.
When Luke looked back at Percy, he was faced with a sheepish grin.
“I had to get your attention somehow. I tried calling your name like ten times already,” Percy shrugged his shoulder with feigned innocence, but the glint of mischief told Luke that the kid was anything but feeling guilty about soaking him from head to toe. 
“Percy,” Luke groaned as he could feel the fabric of his clothes cling to his body. Percy bashfully chuckled and offered another sheepish look to the counselor who was meant to train him. 
The cool water did offer a temporary fix to the boiling summer heat. But mixing that with sweat, combat, and Luke's long-sleeved shirt underneath was disastrous. The Hermes boy sighed as he slowly took off the bright orange camp shirt. After struggling slightly, he managed to pull the shirt off from over his head. However, the gray shirt he was wearing underneath got pulled up more than slightly from the extra friction between wet fabrics, revealing the majority of his back to Percy and others. 
He did not think much of it until gasps - including yours - could be heard as this happened. Chris even whistled as he and everybody else spotted what Luke did not notice.
“What?” Luke asked as he pulled down his gray shirt and started wringing his camp t-shirt, trying to rid it from being as wet as possible. 
“Damn, did you get mauled by a minotaur or something?” Percy asked. 
Almost immediately, Luke paled at Percy’s words as he realized what the kid was talking about.
Indeed, as Luke’s gray shirt underneath got pulled up, which revealed the majority of his back, this had also put on display the scratches down his back left from nights that he spent with you. Some were evidently old and healing, as seen by how Luke’s skin was patching itself up and matching closer to his skin tone. Others were somewhat freshly red, while a few were like wounds being reopened. To make matters worse, they could spot the occasional crescent shape bruises that were indentations of your nails. 
Considering your guys’ relationship was not a secret, there was no room to deny it if somebody pointed fingers at you. You blushed as people now averted their eyes to you as if this was the most scandalous thing all year. Clarisse and Chris, on the other hand, were both smirking. 
The whole camp knew you were the one who left those scratches there, and you sincerely wish you could dig a hole to hide yourself from all the attention right now.
Luke’s eyes darted to you, and you offered him an awkward smile as your face grew a darker shade of red.
“No, seriously, dude, you gotta get it checked out at the infirmary. How did that even happen?” Percy only continued, somehow actually clueless about the cause of those marks. You could see Annabeth sending Percy a somewhat side-eye from nearby at his words while Grover let out a deep sigh. 
You started approaching the two, hoping you could intervene and save the both of you from this situation.
“Uhm…well,” Luke started, unsure how to even answer the kid or divert the attention elsewhere as his cheeks flushed and ears tinted pink from trying to ignore memories of what you two had done the night before.
The Hermes boy has jokingly sweet-talked you before on how he might walk out shirtless after one of your rendezvous to show off the marks you left on him. Never would you two think that that idea would ever happen like this.
“Yeah, I reckon you should get that checked out,” you decided to say as you reached Luke, settling your hand on Luke’s lower back and greeting Percy. “Thank you for worrying about him.”
“Yeah, no problem. I mean, it must have been quite a minotaur to land that much of a number on him,” Percy somehow carried on and was utterly oblivious to Clarisse and Chris, who almost bursted out laughing at his latest comment. You, on the other hand, squinted your eyes at the kid. You turned to Luke and you could see it in his eyes that the boy was on the verge of laughing as well. You were sure he would have done so if it were not for your glare.
“Well, we best go heal those wounds now, right Luke?” you gave your boyfriend a look, hoping he would get the message to play along.
“Right,” he agreed almost instantly. 
“Alright, bye, Percy,” you hastily spoke, before dragging Luke by his hand away from everybody's eyes.
“Bye guys,” you could hear the kid’s voice as the both of you retreated. It felt like a walk of shame as the semi-crowd parted ways for you two to leave the scene. You immediately let out a deep breath as soon as nobody was near anymore.
“Gods, that was so embarrassing. The kid basically repeatedly called me a minotaur.”
“I mean…you can be my minotaur?” Luke cheekily jested, trying to tease you a bit more over the situation.
“Oh, no, no, no, we’re not making that a thing. No, absolutely not are you ever gonna make that a nickname,” Luke only laughed at your reaction before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you into a hug. As he did so, you wrapped both your arms around his waist, face colliding with his chest the way it would usually do when you guys cuddle. He gave you a few peppered kisses on your forehead, close to your hairline. 
“They’re never gonna let us live that down, will they?” You asked after letting out a muffled groan against his chest.
“Nope,” Luke admitted. Despite the Hermes boy usually easing away your worries, even he knew this would be the talk around camp for a while. Nevertheless, he unwrapped his arms around you and cupped your face with both hands. Using his callus-filled hands, yet gentle touch, he soothed your furrowed eyebrows by rubbing over them to urge you from scowling.
“But…you know what? I’m kind of glad this happened. Sure, it might be awkward and a tad bit embarrassing. But now, they finally get to see how lucky I am to have been given a chance by such a gorgeous and sweet Demigod. And…” he paused, giving you a quick kiss. “This way, any guy potentially still after you know to keep their hands off.” He cheekily winked at you after saying so. 
Gods, you remember how jealous Luke would get before you were together. It was lowkey hot to see him so riled up. Though, after the both of you got together, you have always reassured him that you had eyes on him and only him. 
“I guess that also means any girls still thinking they could steal you from me would know they have no chance?” you questioned, smiling ear to ear when he nodded eagerly at your words.
“Exactly. That’s a win-win in my book. I’m not embarrassed they saw what you left on me. They could talk for all I care. So stop worrying, or else you’ll start getting wrinkles,” he lightly flicked the area between your furrowed eyebrows. As you were about to complain, he quickly kissed you right where he previously flicked you, and that immediately melted away any bit of feigned irritation you had with him. He chuckled at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows untangling itself.
“Thank you,” you muttered, showing your gratitude towards Luke. 
If Luke had a superpower, it would probably be calming you down. He has always managed to tame your emotions whenever they were drowning you. He was like an anchor to you, always grounded you during chaotic times. Sometimes, you wonder how you got so lucky. 
You peered up at him sweetly, and the look alone made him lean down to capture your lips with his again. You chuckled at his action and kissed him back with just as much passion as he was leaving on your lips. Your hands started playing with the hair close to the nape of his neck. He let out a content sigh while still showing your lips just how much he loved them and you. However, he abruptly pulled away before dropping a question. 
“Are we really going to the infirmary?” Luke hesitantly asked, bringing up your words from earlier. He watched as you gave him an amused look.
“What did you think?” As soon as his eyes met yours, he knew exactly what you wanted. He gave you a sheepish grin before the two of you quietly giggled to each other before walking further away from the training grounds.
Let's just say you two did not follow through with your words of going to the infirmary, and neither were you tending to his “wounds”.
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BAD IDEA RIGHT? BEST FRIEND'S DAD!TOJI for KINKTOBER 2023!
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DESCRIPTION: you and megumi are old friends, but a recent development (called growing up) has made you aware of just how hot his dad, toji fushiguro, really is. you sit on your desire for years until one night, you get an idea. 
PAIRING: best friend’s dad!fushiguro toji x reader
WC: 5.1k whoops!
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORDS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, age gap! power dynamics, slight daddy kink, degradation, spit (like a lot it's a Thing here), oral (m! receiving), unprotected relations, slapping, gaping, size difference/size kink, creampie, toji is Nasty and a pretty bad dude lol 
A/N: this is nasty and very descriptive i’m so sorry i really sinned here. anyway enjoy!
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you and megumi have been friends since school. after all, it was inevitable that a friendship would form between the only two kids whose parents consistently forgot to pick them up after class. 
nods of acknowledgment quickly developed into trading pokémon cards, sharing samanco waffles, cheating off each other during tests. 
it was the most meaningful relationship you had in your life, the one other person who really got you and the situation you were in, and before you knew it, you two were being admitted to the same college, like you’d talked about all those years ago. 
in the meantime, megumi’s dad had… mellowed out. from what you knew. 
sure, he was still gone for weeks at a time, neglectful, irresponsible and womanizing, but one final falling out with their family seemed to have lifted a big weight off his shoulders, and he became more present in megumi’s life, less resentful. you knew he wasn’t a good guy, but you also knew he was trying, in his own way. 
besides that, you also couldn’t help noticing other things about the man. you first started paying attention when you were in high school, always hanging out at megumi’s place to play video games or study. 
toji would come home sometimes, smelling of smoke and sake, tonguing the scar on the side of his lip. plopping down on their shaggy sofa, legs spread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his pants. you would give megumi some excuse about getting something from the kitchen and just watch toji, lazily browsing channels with one hand inside his sweats. 
it wasn’t a big deal. but it never quite went away, your infatuation growing with your desperation the more the man hung around. you did everything you could to get his attention. 
you wore the frilliest, shortest skirts, left dirty dishes on the sink, showed up too late at night drunk and stumbling “looking for megumi”, acting out so you could try to get some reaction out of toji. but he never seemed to give you a second thought, annoyance being the closest thing to an emotion on his face every time your eyes met. 
but you were no quitter. you knew one day you would get what you deserved. maybe not today, but… eventually.
you approach the fushiguro household’s front door, fishing out the extra key megumi had given you from your backpack pocket. you two had a study session today but he’d texted you telling you he’d be late and to just let yourself in, so that’s what you do. 
with a sigh, you set down your laptop on their coffee table and sit down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. before you can finish getting comfortable, a tall, broad figure is looming over your face and you almost jump out of your skin. 
“what the f—oh my god,” you laugh in embarrassment. “you scared me, fushiguro-san.”
he doesn’t react, his eyes boring into yours. “me? you’re the one breaking into my house.”
you roll your eyes, pulling your legs up below your body. “megumi gave me a key. we’re supposed to study today, do you know where—“
“he’s with that itadori kid. don’t think he’s coming back tonight,” toji moves to sit down on the loveseat, turning the tv on. the old, boxy thing crackles to life, a boat race playing on the screen. toji adjusts his body in attention. “so you can fuck off back home.”
“um,” you start, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. you let your eyes wander all over his lax form, and you can faintly make out his abs below the raggedy shirt he’s wearing. it makes your stomach turn. 
without taking his eyes off the screen, he addresses you again. “you know where the door is.”
an idea starts to form in your head. a really, really bad, tempting idea.
you discreetly take off your sweatshirt, leaving you in just your undershirt, no bra. you hope toji can scent the whiff of perfume you exude when you move, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa. 
“nah, i think i’ll just study here. my parents are home today and they’re too… y’know.”
“not my fuckin’ problem,” he picks at his teeth, spreading his legs wider. your desperation is growing with each second he spends not looking at you. 
you lift up your bag, something clinking inside. it's a bold move, but it's now or never.
“i brought booze. we could just share some and then i’ll go.”
that at least gets a reaction. the man snorts, finally glancing over at you from the corner of his eyes. you instinctively push your chest out, feeling eager. 
“is that what you do with my son under my roof? get shitfaced in the house that i pay for?”
“well i paid for the vodka so i don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you make a point to pull out the bottle from your bag, swinging it around. 
toji’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. you know he doesn’t like to be challenged, absolutely hates smart mouths. you should be in for a treat. 
“who the hell do you think you’re talking to, kid?” he stands up and snatches the bottle from you, turning it around in his — big, veiny, deliciously calloused — hand and laughing. “vanilla flavored? fuck, you really are a kid.” he says it like the realization excites him. 
you can feel your face flush.
“are you gonna turn down free alcohol, toji?” it’s risky, dropping the honorific. you know he doesn’t like it, can see it in his face, but he doesn’t say anything. 
instead, he unscrews the top with ease and takes a swig, grimacing at the taste. you watch as his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing.
his arms are huge, you can’t imagine he was ever shaped like megumi is nowadays, slender and frail. toji is tall and broad and big, with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his defined features. 
he grabs two whiskey glasses and sets them down on the coffee table — no coasters —, pouring some vodka in both of them. it was most definitely not your idea to do straight shots tonight with megumi, but you will not go through the humiliation of asking for a soda to mix it with. 
you’re desperate to have toji view you as the adult you are, no longer megumi’s awkward middle school best friend. you know you’ve grown up well; all you need is for toji to see it too. 
you drink in silence for a bit, the only noises coming from toji being his disappointed grunts as the boats he bet on fall behind. you type away at your laptop, not really being able to focus with the heat rising within you. 
he refills both your cups a couple more times, but makes no effort to talk.
you slowly but surely start to get antsy, your determination wavering and giving way to a funny feeling one can only experience by drinking with their best friend’s dad who they’ve wanted to fuck for like, ever. 
so you bite the bullet and with the liquid courage flowing in your veins, you strike up conversation. 
“y’know, toji, i’ve always wanted to ask,” his head lolls on his shoulder to look at you lazily and disinterested. “what happened to megumi’s mom? he doesn’t talk about it.”
“yeah, well. me either,” toji replies. you take a deep breath. 
“you’re gone a lot. megumi is alone a lot.”
toji scoffs.
“thought that was what you were here for, hmm? megumi’s done well for himself,” he finally, probably for the first time in your life, gives you a proper look over, his eyes traveling all over your frame, tucked into the armrest of the couch. “scored himself a nice little bitch.”
you let out a strangled noise. you’re fighting laughter when you exclaim, “i’m sorry?! you think megumi and i have a—like, a thing?”
toji just shrugs, stretching one leg out in front of him. “i figured. why else would you loiter around my house so much?”
oh, if he only knew. 
“no, no. it’s never been like that. megumi’s not really my type.” toji hums inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue. “i’m into more… mature guys.”
toji eyes you knowingly, but seemingly amused. 
“that right?” you nod. “fuckin’ kid like you even know what to do with a man?”
you raise an eyebrow. you’re a sophomore in college, well into your twenties. he can’t be serious. “surely you know i’m not a kid anymore. surely you d—“
“surely my ass,” he exclaims and oh, he’s a little terrifying like this. toji downs however much was left in his cup and turns to you, pointing with the hand holding his glass. “you’re a full of shit, foul mouthed, rude brat. get the fuck out of my house, you’re pissing me off.”
you’re used to toji’s outbursts, not because you know him well but because every time you see him, seldom as it is, he always loses his temper, sooner or later. 
“i think,” you take another sip, feeling loose. “your old ass wouldn’t be able to handle sex. like, actual sex, not those rich hags you who just lay there for you and give you money in the end. if you had to put in any real work i bet your heart would give out you slimey pi—“
you can’t finish your sentence because you can’t breathe, suddenly. your eyes widen, chest spasming as your oxygen gets cut off mid-sentence. toji has one of his huge palms covering your nose and mouth.
you look up at him with watery eyes but he’s not looking back, he’s chugging vodka straight from the bottle again.
he puffs his cheeks and moves his hand to cup your jaw, smirking around a mouthful of alcohol. 
you catch your breath quickly, the hand that was clawing at his falling limply on your lap. toji holds your face, his grip unforgiving as he leans over you. his form is so, so much bigger than yours, towering over you completely, and all you can do is look up at him with a blank expression. 
his thumb pries your mouth open with ease, the digit hooking behind your bottom teeth as toji’s face gets closer and closer. on instinct, you close your eyes. 
soon, hot, stinging liquid is pouring steadily into your mouth. toji swishes the rest of the vodka between his cheeks — on purpose, you’re sure — before spitting it directly on your tongue.
it’s disgusting, everything about it makes your stomach churn, but it also makes you squeeze your legs together, chest rising and falling rapidly as you swallow without having to be told to. 
“ya talk too fuckin’ much, brat,” he grumbles. ironically, you’re at a loss for words. “someone needs put you in your place already.”
“you,” your voice cracks and nearly fails you, but you’re determined. it surprises him, that you’d have something to say. that you’re still game. you can see it in his face, in the way his hands come off of you. “i want you to.”
toji’s expression is hard and unchanging. his fingers go back to your face, two of them slipping inside your lax lips.
your breath stutters as you inhale, instinctively sucking the digits and working your tongue around them.
toji grabs his cock through his pants pointedly.
“fuckin’ slut… that what you want?” you nod. he takes a step forward, knees hitting the couch. “is that why you walk around my house looking like a fucking whore?”
a whine dies in your throat at the sweet, sweet recognition.
he noticed.
he noticed and it bothered him and you really couldn’t bring yourself to care that he was your best friend’s father right now because he was tenting his sweatpants and your mouth was watering at the sight. 
“please…” you paw at his waistband, pulling on the drawstrings. toji laughs at your desperation, voice growing gruff. 
he buries a hand in your hair, fingers closing around your locks tightly and making your eyes sting with tears. slowly, he pushes your face into his crotch, so close that you can feel it pulsing, can feel every ridge, can feel that he’s not wearing any underwear.
god, you can smell him, and it makes your head spin, your mouth huffing out hot breaths and wetting the front of his pants. 
you hook your fingers in the back of his sweats and pull until they’re down tight around his thighs. you have to maneuver the fabric over the head of his erection, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.
his dick springs up, slapping you in the face and leaving a smear of pre across the bridge of your nose. you think toji snorts at that but you can’t be sure. you’re too mesmerized.
he’s so, so big, the skin darker and flushed, tight, heavy balls and the head, angry red, peeking out from the foreskin.
your throat goes dry at the thought of it inside of you, inside any of your holes, because you know it’ll destroy you forever. and you want it. 
toji doesn’t have the appeal that most men his age do to most girls your age. he doesn’t make you feel safe, he doesn’t offer financial support, he doesn’t care about your well-being, he doesn’t have his shit together. and to make matters worse to you, he’s your best friend’s dad, who your best friend doesn’t even like that much, whose presence has been totally indifferent to megumi for most of his life. 
it makes you burn in shame to know you’re about to have a man 25 years your senior in your mouth.
you readjust your position on the couch so that you’re sitting on your knees, angling your face with his cock. it’s curved, pointing up, and you wonder how much of it he’s gonna wanna stuff down your throat. judging by the pure evil glinting in his eyes, it’s gonna be as much as possible. 
you take a deep breath, steadying a hand around his length. it’s concerning that you can just barely close your fingers around him, but you put that thought aside to focus on pulling the skin down gently so you can wrap your lips around the tip. 
toji sighs in relief, his grip in your hair tightening.
you begin to work your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock to gather up saliva. 
“thaaat’s it, what a good little bitch. got a sweet little mouth on ya,” he whispers, hips thrusting slightly to work his cock further into your mouth. “yer gonna take all of it? or are ya all talk?”
you whine, gripping the base and sliding further down his length. he’s already hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your stomach seize. you pick up the pace, twisting your wrist rhythmically as you suck him. 
“don’t swallow,” he threatens, forcing his cock deeper into you, the head sliding into the opening of your throat. “lemme see how messy this slutty face can get.”
you choke audibly, eyes smarting with tears, makeup smudging. you look up at him with furrowed brows in a silent plea of mercy. 
toji’s having none of it.
he puts one foot down on the sofa, next to your legs, giving himself the leverage to start fully fucking your face now. he wraps both hands around your throat and thrusts his hips violently into your mouth, his thumbs pressing down to feel his length in your throat. 
“ahh, fuck,” he throws his head back, reveling in your desperate gurgles. you feel like a fucking ragdoll, like a fleshlight, unable to control the noises you make or how much dick you take. “takin’ me so well. who taught you to squeeze your throat like that, huh? so fuckin’ slutty.” 
you sob around his cock, nose buried in his pubes. he’s impossibly hard, impossibly wet as thick strings of spit and pre hang from your lips, dripping down to his balls, falling to the floor.
toji keeps fucking your throat relentlessly, granting you mere seconds between thrusts to inhale a desperate breath that immediately starts to burn in your lungs. 
he’s a fucking sight though, above you. chin tucked into his chest, veins bulging and biceps flexed, nostrils flared as he watches you devour him. 
he pulls out suddenly, leaving you choking for air. tears stream down your face, spit bubbling out of your nostril. you look all wrong, like you’d been put back together by someone after being utterly demolished.
“open your mouth,” toji orders. you obey and he grabs his cock, slapping the head against your tongue a few times. he slides his length in and out for a bit before he starts jerking himself off. “suck my balls.” 
you take that moment to swallow down the saliva that had pooled between your teeth, tucking away the wet strands of hair that frame your face.
toji’s lifting his cock towards his belly, fisting the head and flicking his wrist. he looks at you expectantly, and you understand it’s time to prove yourself once again. 
you place a gente thumb right below his shaft, where his sack hangs. your tongue dips in between his balls, shyly at first, just slightly tracing the shape of them before you pop one into your mouth. 
toji groans, the hand on his cock gaining speed. you squeeze your thighs together; you’re so wet that it makes you uncomfortable. you lean forward on your knees, steadying yourself with your palms planted firmly on his thighs. 
you’re sucking his balls earnestly now , one then the other, then both at the same time, angling your head up and working your tongue up and down the wrinkled skin.
toji’s loving it, maybe more than the blowjob, and it makes you feel like a toy all over again, in an even more humiliating way because now you’re not even allowed to touch his cock, he’s just getting to use your mouth anywhere he wants. 
it’s so fucking hot that it makes you dizzy. you hollow your cheeks, giving his nutsack a good suck before gingerly lifting his balls. you sneak a glance up at toji, hoping to catch him by surprise when your tongue dips even lower, approaching some pretty controversial territory. 
it works. his breath catches in his throat and his knee kicks out instinctively.
he grabs your hair immediately, pulling you away from him. 
“fuck,” you look up at him smirking, lips smeared with saliva and snort. but you don’t even care how debauched you look right now, as long as you can keep the upper hand. “you’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t ya?”
he leans down to kiss you deeply, messily, inhaling loudly through his nose. toji finishes stepping out of his sweatpants and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing what you’d been imagining for so many years. 
you run your hands over his chest, his abs, down his hips, his v-line. he’s so fucking hot, got bulging muscles you didn’t even know existed in the human body, and scars you can’t even fathom the origin of. 
he stares at you, looking bored. “get up.”
you do, legs shaking and prickling with pins and needles. now you can fully feel the scope of your arousal, how your panties stick to your core uncomfortably, how the wet tops of your thighs rub together. 
toji sits down on the sofa and you waste no time getting on his lap, clawing at his chest and leaning in for another kiss. he’s unforgiving even like this, so much bigger than you, his hand on the back of your neck and his mouth on yours. 
“arms up,” and when you comply, he’s pulling your tank top off. “good girl.”
you shiver, instinctively wrapping an arm around yourself. toji tsks at that, easily taking both your wrists in one hand and pinning them behind your back. he grabs your tit with the other, popping as much of it as he can in his mouth. 
you groan, fighting against his grip to get your hands on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere. toji relentlessly sucks on your nipple, nibbling and circling it with his tongue.
when he pulls off, he lands a swift slap across your boob, ripping a groan from you. 
“such a good fuckin’ slut, look at that body.”
he slaps your ass, this time, tugging your shorts over your butt. you help him get it off of you and then, finally, you’re straddling toji’s cock, no layers in between you two, just your dripping core on him. 
you think, belatedly, condom, but then toji is pulling you in for another kiss and for all you know megumi could come home any minute and you wouldn’t want to waste time like that. or so you tell yourself. 
his hands guide your hips to grind over him, soft mewls coming out of you and being buried into the crook of his neck. 
“pretty little girl, gonna ride me? hmm? gonna ride this old man’s cock?” you whine, nodding.
you press your front against his so you can lift your ass up and guide the tip into your entrance. you don’t expect to be able to take it all, but at least like this you can control the pace and how much of it is going into you, the only thing keeping you from panicking at the sheer size of him. 
the head of toji’s cock doesn’t slip inside so much as it pops inside, the ridge locking just past your opening.
it’s too big, and even though you’re soaking wet, it’s still a stretch. you both groan in unison and you realize, this is it. this is your fantasy, you’re fucking toji fushiguro, megumi’s dad, your best friend’s dad. 
your legs tremble as you hold yourself up, too soon to sink down more on his cock. toji’s playing with your nipples but you have a sneaking suspicion his patience isn’t going to last much longer. 
you give it a valiant effort to take more in and it feels like being ripped in two. you clench your jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. 
“fuuuuck, so fuckin’ tight,” toji spreads your ass cheeks with both hands, rubbing the thin skin where you two are connected. he thrusts up, feeding your poor pussy more of his cock, and you let out a scream. “take it, c’mon.”
“unghh—can’t, toji, hang on—“
“‘course ya can,” he fucks up into you again and you sob, nails raking down his chest. he hisses and slaps your ass in punishment. you realize you might really cry.
“i can’t, it’s too big, too much—“
“shhh,” in an uncharacteristic display of affection, toji kisses the furrow between your brows, snaking a thumb between you two to rub your clit. 
you throw your head back, body torn between seeking more pleasure and running from the pain. you can hear how wet you are as toji fucks in and out of you, your plush walls hugging him so well, weeping around him. 
he speeds up and you bury your face in his chest, moaning wantonly into his skin. toji lets out staccato grunts, working his cock further into you with each thrust. 
“any scrubs your age givin’ it to you like this?” he breathes out, grabbing your ass hard and moving it up and down his length for you. you whine, drooling on him. “yeah, that’s right. fuck, take it, that’s a good girl.”
“ahh, toji—“
“that’s not my name, whore,” he fists your hair and drags your head back until your eyes meet. “try again.”
“fushiguro-san—“ that earns you a hard slap on your ass. you yelp — wrong answer. 
“toji-sama—“ another slap, and this time he grips the reddening flesh viciously. you whine, squirming in his grip. 
“little braindead cumslut,” he wipes a tear with his thumb. “who’s fucking this tight pussy right now? huh? tell me who's ruining this slutty cunt.”
“d—daddy?” 
toji smiles, humming, his grip on you softening as he leans in for a kiss. “that’s right, sweetheart. show daddy how much you want it.”
it’s amusing to toji, you know it. he just wants to humiliate you because he’s aware of how badly you’ve wanted this. but it does something to you, it’s serious to you, it’s so fucking depraved and sexy to you. 
he lifts you up with ease and lays you back down on the couch. you feel so empty suddenly that it makes you want to cry, like toji has already carved a home inside of you for his cock that no one else will ever be able to fill. 
he wastes no time getting on top of you, hooking a hand under your leg and lifting it up onto his shoulder. your eyes widen immediately, a protest dying in your tongue. this position… his cock… it’s, god, it’s gonna be—
toji plunges in in one violent, perfunctory thrust. you let out a scream, your heel kicking toji square in the back as your body rises up from the couch. he’s all the way inside now. 
you can feel him bruising your cervix, his balls, wet with a mixture of the two of you, slapping against your ass, his hip bones drilling into you. 
“you’re so deep,” you look at him with panic in your eyes, chest gone cold at the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re so deep.”
toji laughs, pulling out to spit on his cock. he grabs your ankle and sets it on his shoulder. “yeah, baby, daddy’s all the way inside now. feels good, doesn’t it?” 
“fuck. oh fuck,” you let out shaky breaths, allowing toji to lay more of his weight on top of you. your knee is by your head now and somehow in this position his cock seems to hit even deeper, to curve up exactly in the right spots that have you struggling to breathe. “you’re gonna break me.” 
“takin’ me so well. just a natural slut aren’t ya,” he’s fucking you so fast now, wet, slapping sounds resounding across the whole house. 
there’s a thick creamy ring at the base of his cock, frothy and bubbly with how much you’ve been gushing for him. toji presses a thumb against your clit and rubs tight little circles, making you squeeze against him like a vice. 
he grunts, speeding up his movements.
“so sensitive, this cute little pussy. you a virgin?” he slaps it a few times, your wetness sticking to his fingers with every pat. “gonna cum soon, whore?”
you whine, nodding. you wrap both arms around toji’s neck and pull him closer, open mouth awaiting expectantly.
toji grins, spitting onto your tongue before leaning in to suck it. 
“toj—daddy,” you moan against his mouth, “daddy, i’m close.”
you don’t recognize your own voice. it’s slutty, desperate, pitchy, juvenile. it's too far gone.
toji works your clit over and over again, fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked. he splays a hand over your stomach, kneading the place where his cock is nestled inside of you and hitting a spot that makes you lose control of your body and words. 
“ah, ah, ah, oh god toji fuck daddy make me cum, please please can i cum—“
“oh, fuck,” his thrusts start to become erratic and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, one leg wrapping around his hips to make sure he stays inside until you're done. “cum on daddy’s cock, come on. make a mess, little girl.”
you throw your head back, burying it into the pillows as your entire body thrashes with your orgasm. you clamp around him so hard that you can't even tell where he ends and you begin. 
toji takes no mercy on you, his messy cock plunging in and out of you fast. 
“gonna fill up this pretty pussy, yeah?�� you shake your head desperately, one hand punching his chest. he can’t finish inside of you, right? but why do you want it so bad? “no no no, don’t fuss now baby. you want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you? wanna give megumi a baby brother? fuck yeah i know you do fuckin' take it whore fuuuuck, fuck i'm coming—”
he thrusts once, twice, three more times, knocking all air out of your lungs and the most ridiculous moans out of your mouth before he’s spilling into you, locking your legs like a fucking pretzel and biting down your neck. 
you can feel it pulsing, spurting inside of you. you can feel both your heartbeats in your abused cunt, both of your juices combined and oozing out of you. 
once you catch your breath, toji pulls out of you languidly, with a yawn. you two made a fucking mess, a sticky puddle on the couch right below your ass. 
toji eyes it disinterestedly, much like how he’s eyeing you right now. your sweaty, messy, fucked out self, nearly melting on the fushiguro household’s sofa. 
“ah. are ya on the pill or what?” he asks, like he just now remembered. after a few seconds you nod, a little incredulous. “heh. good.”
you slowly sit up, reaching for your sweatshirt to at least cover yourself up. you sneak a hand down to your cunt, fingers sliding through the mess there to dip inside you. 
fuck, you’re gaping. toji well and truly ruined your pussy. it makes you panic a little bit, but it also makes pride swell within your chest, knowing you took it, all of it. 
toji finally addresses you. 
“i’m gonna go take a shower,” he looks behind his shoulder, sighing. he points at you. “we left the fuckin’ tv on. if this shit racks up my bills you’re gonna have to pay me back.”
you guffaw. “me? pay you how?”
he smirks. 
“got one more hole i haven’t wrecked yet, dont’cha?” he flicks your forehead. you just sit there, incredulous, trembling legs, halfway to horny again. from the bathroom, toji calls out, “let yourself out. oh, and leave the vodka.”
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A/N: lmfao! i got nothin to say in my defense. reblogs r very much appreciated
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sunniques · 24 days
Text
— 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ?
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➺ PAIRING: lee heeseung x female reader
➺ GENRE: stepbrother au, smut
➺ SUMMARY: the story of how your stepbrother’s girlfriend realizes her boyfriend has never really been hers.
➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, possessiveness, heeseung can lift reader, cucking kink, voyeurism, masturbation (f), oral sex (f), fingering, face sitting, unprotected sex, creampies
➺ WC: 4.6k
NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.
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A lot of people find your relationship with your stepbrother cute. How could they not? He’s always so doting and protective like a real brother would be. In spite of being only slightly older, Heeseung takes on a very important role in your life. He constantly goes out of his way to take care of you, making sure you have anything you could possibly need.
Heeseung’s girlfriend never thought too much about the relationship between you two. It was natural that he took the naive college freshman under his wing and constantly had you by his side. Mina found it endearing, actually. The way he worried about you like a mother hen who wasn’t ready for her young chick to go into the world alone is adorable and a good sign. After dating so many inconsiderate losers, she thinks she’s finally chosen the right guy.
But somewhere along the way, Mina starts to grow tired of it. Time has gone by, and you’re no longer a naive freshman who can’t get around without her boyfriend’s help. Of course family is important, but it’s not like you’re entirely helpless. And yet, that’s exactly the way Heeseung acts. He’s always ready to drop everything when you need him. On several humiliating occasions, he’s even left her half naked on his bed just to go to you because you bought something you couldn’t figure out how to put together, or because you wanted to hang out with him.
It’s hard for Mina to admit that she’s a little jealous. Especially because it all seems so ridiculous. There’s no way her boyfriend actually wants you like that. But as time goes on, she thinks that maybe she’s not all that crazy. Especially with the affectionate way her boyfriend looks at you. Despite all this, Mina doesn’t say anything. At least, not until Heeseung starts to bring you along to what were meant to be dates.
“Babe, why do you keep bringing your stepsister? i thought we were going on a date?” It’s hard for her to not sound bitter and annoyed.
“Her roommate is going to visit her parents, and I don’t want Y/N to be alone.” His tone is kind and gentle like always, but it’s also firm and leaves no room for arguments.
What’s worse is that Mina can’t bring herself to hate or blame you. In a way, she understands why her boyfriend is always so concerned about you. You’re so nice and trusting that it would be way too easy for someone to take advantage of that. There’s also the fact that you’ve been more than willing to let them have some alone time, but Heeseung never lets you leave.
It’s all so strange and frustrating that Mina feels like she has to take matters into her own hands. So she does.
The key to Heeseung letting you go is getting you a boyfriend—or at least getting you to start dating. It’s easy enough to find a guy who’s interested in you. That’s never been a problem for you, and all it takes is her showing your picture to the cute guy in her communications class for her plan to fall into place. As luck would have it, you’re also into meeting the guy and going out with him.
Little did Mina know, setting you up with him would be a mistake that would cost her everything.
On the night you’re meant to meet up with her classmate, Mina excitedly goes to her boyfriend’s apartment. It’s been a long time since she got to be alone with Heeseung, and she was going to make the most of it.
She’s dressed in tiny tank top and a cute little skirt that Heeseung loves—it barely hides the lingerie she’s wearing underneath. Mina quietly lets herself into her boyfriend’s apartment using her spare key. Quietly, she tiptoes to his room only to find the door wide open. What she doesn’t expect is to find you sitting on his the edge of bed while Heeseung kneels in front of you.
Mina feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on her as his pretty hands rub your soft thighs. You look incredible, clad in a cute little dress with your makeup and hair done to perfection. It’s a mistake for Mina to keep watching, but she can’t find her voice at the moment.
“Seungie, what’s wrong?”
God, Mina hates that you call him that. Mostly because she can tell how much Heeseung likes it.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going out to meet some guy?” Heeseung sounds almost venomous, but it’s like you don’t hear it. “Who is he? How’d you meet him?”
You tilt your head, pretty lips pulled down in a confused frown. “Didn’t Mina tell you? She set me up with a guy from her class. He’s really cute!”
A chill goes down Mina’s spine. She can see Heeseung’s back tense when you tell him how your date came to be. The air feels almost murderous as he gently squeezes your thighs.
It kills Heeseung that he was almost too late in stopping you from meeting some strange guy in the pretty little dress you have on. He softly rubs your thighs, eyes simmering with anger and desire he doesn’t care to hide. Not anymore.
“Oh, angel.” Your stepbrother murmurs, hands slowly trailing up to your thighs. “You know you’re my favorite girl, right?”
An unsuspecting smile graces your lips. “Yeah. And you’re my favorite guy.”
Heeseung hums in satisfaction as his fingers ghost the edges of your dress. He watches your eyebrows furrow, but you don’t say anything. As always, you have blind trust in your stepbrother. That’s all the indication he needs to get up and push you down on his bed. Heeseung hovers over you, loving how you’re staring up at him with sparkling, wide eyes. He swoops down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
Your heart is racing in your chest as Heeseung forces his tongue into your mouth. Despite the initial shock, you quickly melt into the kiss. He swallows your moans, pulling you closer as he deepens the messy kiss. You mewl into his mouth, carding your fingers through his hair with desire you had never realized you had for him.
Meanwhile, Mina can only watch as her boyfriend kisses you with a passion that he clearly never felt for her. It feels like her heart is ripping in half as Heeseung begins to undress you. Tears well up in her eyes when he groans at the sight of the lingerie adorning your body. Mina can see how hard he is from where she’s standing, and the desire in his eyes is very different from the way he looks at her.
“Can’t believe you got all pretty for some other boy.” Heeseung spits as he starts to undress. “Were planning on letting him fuck you?”
You shake your head and go to speak, but you can’t when Heeseung roughly pulls off your lingerie then his own underwear. His cock is thick and big, possibly the biggest you’ve ever seen. It’s twitching and leaking as he looks at you with his dark eyes.
“W-We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whine as Heeseung shoves your thighs to your stomach and licks a broad stripe up your wet pussy.
Your stepbrother groans at your sweet taste, thrusting his tongue into your dripping hole. He laps up the juices leaking out of your slit, circling his tongue on your clit for good measure. The noise you let out is downright pornographic and pure music to Heeseung’s ears.
“Seungie!” You keen as you spread your legs and tangle your hands in his messy hair. “I– Fuck!”
Heeseung pulls back with a wet slurp to spread your cunt open with his big hands. “God. You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, angel. Just had to taste it.”
Each one of his words is like a dagger to Mina’s heart and confidence. Wet tears trickle down her face, but she doesn’t say anything as you pull on her boyfriend’s hair. Heeseung only moans and dives back into your slick cunt. He greedily laps up everything that drips out of you, sucking and kissing your clit.
“We shouldn’t be doing this, Hee.” You repeat through a needy mewl, making no attempt to stop him. In fact, you buck your pussy into his mouth as he sucks on your sensitive bud.
“Shh, angel.” Heeseung shushes as he flicks his tongue across your swollen bud. “Just relax and let me eat you out. Been wanting to do this for so long.”
Mina swallows thickly, the hurt slowly being replaced by something else. Her eyes grow bigger when she realizes which feeling is taking over. She shifts slightly, feeling a familiar wetness begin to pool in her panties. Mina feels sick that the sight of her boyfriend cheating on her can turn her on, and she thinks that she should leave right now and never return.
But she stays.
Mina licks her lips and continues to watch. Even she can’t help but think how hot you look, whimpering and writhing as Heeseung pushes your thighs apart so he can bury his face deeper in your pussy. He flicks his tongue, slowly descending until he’s lapping at your hole, slowly fucking the wet muscle in and out. Your eyes roll back as your stepbrother eats your pussy like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.
The sounds coming from your pussy and the way Heeseung messily eats you out has Mina’s own cunt clenching with need. She can feel her underwear start to stick to her cunt as she watches her boyfriend lap up your arousal like a starved man. Mina bites her lip, feeling sick and twisted for being turned on by your pretty moans.
Heeseung suddenly pulls away, but not before he slaps your thigh playfully. He goes to lay on his back all while wearing a filthy smirk. “Sit on my face.”
You bite your lip as a hot flash of arousal pulses through your body. Both your and Mina’s cunts throb at the suggestion. Heeseung sees your hesitation, but doesn’t back down.
“C’mon, baby. Be a good little stepsister and ride my fucking face.” He growls out with dark eyes.
With your pussy dripping, you crawl over to him and kneel over his face. Mina watches with heated eyes as you slowly lower your cunt on her boyfriend’s face. The heat in her stomach grows when she hears Heeseung groan in satisfaction.
“That’s it. I want your pretty pussy suffocating me.”
With that, your stepbrother grabs your hips and pulls your cunt down onto his face with a groan. Mewling quietly, you rub your cunt all over his mouth. Every time he moans or grunts, it sends little vibrations through your pussy. The delicious feeling has you grinding down on his tongue as you chase that feeling. Heeseung eagerly fucks his wet muscle into your hot cunt, already addicted to your sweet taste.
Mina swallows thickly when he sees Heeseung thrusting into the air as he eats you out. His cock is leaking and throbbing with need. Fuck. How she’d like to go and lick all that up, to have him fuck her mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. Mina rubs her thighs to soothe the growing ache in her pussy as she watches you ride Heeseung’s face.
Your eyes roll back when your stepbrother slaps your ass. A loud squeal spills from your lips as Heeseung keeps fucking his tongue up into your cunt. He grabs your ass and kneads it roughly. With one last groan and flick of his tongue, he sits up and takes you with him. The effortless display of strength turns both women on, one containing her moan while the other cries out as she’s pressed back into the mattress.
“Such a sweet little cunt.” Heeseung moans as he buries his face back into your dripping cunt. “Shit, Y/N. You’re fucking soaked down here.”
“Heeseung!” You cry out as he pries your thighs further apart. Your stepbrother shakes his head to grind his tongue against your sensitive cunt.
“Fuck, you have the hottest little pussy.” Heeseung lifts his head with a groan, lips shiny with your arousal. “Missed eating some good pussy. It’s been so long.”
Mina feels pathetic that her cunt throbs at his degrading words. She bites her lip, hands trailing up her thigh and to her soaked underwear. It’s so filthy and humiliating, but the ache in her pussy is getting to be too much. She slowly rubs circles on her covered cunt as she keeps watching her boyfriend cheat on her.
“Fuck, Seungie.” You mewl desperately. “S-Shouldn’t like having your face buried in my cunt.”
Heeseung smirks into your wetness. He gently circles his tongue on your clit, kissing it tenderly before he gently starts to nip at it with his teeth. Mina shoves her panties aside when you moan out in pleasure. Now she’s furiously rubbing at her bare pussy, wanting to see you cum on her boyfriend’s face.
“But you do, baby. You like me fucking you with my tongue, and I fucking love eating this sweet little pussy.”
Your hips buck up at the words, grinding your cunt against his mouth as you moan for him. Juices drip out of you lewdly, leaking down to your ass and onto Heeseung’s sheets. Your head is swimming with pleasure, and you have to remember that this is all so very wrong.
“You like that?” Heeseung teases you, loving how you’ve turned into putty in his hands. “Answer me, Y/N. Do you like your stepbrother telling you how much he loves tasting your juicy cunt?”
Your back arches when Heeseung sucks your puffy bud into his mouth. “God—yes! Feels so fucking good, Hee! Love having your mouth on my pussy.”
Heeseung growls, the vibrations making your cunt throb as he sucks and licks your swollen clit. Eager to have you cum on his tongue, he slips two fingers into your fluttering hole. Mina follows in suit, unable to take her eyes off the erotic sight of you getting ate out and fingered. Fuck. This was better than any porn she had ever watched. Her hand is dripping with her own arousal, and she can’t even feel disgusted anymore that she’s so turned on by the entire situation.
“Mmmh, shit, Hee.” You whine as the tips of his fingers brush against the gummy spot inside you. “You’re gonna make me cum.”
“Do it, baby. Cream all over my tongue.” He purrs in delight. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”
Heeseung flattens his tongue on your clit while his fingers grind into the spongy spot in your cunt. Your back arches off the bed, orgasm whiting out your thoughts as you cum around his long fingers.
Mina has to cover her mouth as Heeseung moans along with you. By now she’s shoved her fingers into her sopping pussy, the squelching sound is drowned out from the sounds coming from your own pussy. The filthy sight is driving her wild, and she’s so delirious with arousal that she wishes Heeseung would just fuck you already.
“You’re amazing, angel.” Your stepbrother praises with his fingers still buried knuckle deep in your pussy as he softly strokes your velvety walls. “So soft and wet. It makes me want to shove my dick into your tight little hole.”
Heeseung slowly pulls his fingers out of you, and you can only watched with a lidded gaze as he moves his body between your thighs. His cock is twitching and leaking as he grabs the base. He smacks his cock down on your slippery pussy, dragging his drooling tip up and down your slit slowly. Mina has to press her hand into her mouth harder to stifle her filthy moans. The sight of her boyfriend pressing his drooling cockhead into your soaking pussy is so hot she might just cum all over her fingers.
“S-Seungie—fuck. We shouldn’t.” You whimper as he leans forward and braces his arms by your head.
You and Mina both know you don’t really mean your words. It’s clear that you want your stepbrother to split you open on his big cock. That becomes obvious when you don’t try to stop him as he shoves his cock into your pussy until he bottoms out completely, balls pressing against your ass. Shuddering with pleasure, you scratch your nails up his arms as you sink into the bed.
“Pretty pussy was meant to take my cock.” Heeseung growls, already drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his dick. “Fuck. I know it’s wrong, baby, but I just couldn’t help myself. Your hot little cunt was just begging for my dick. Doesn’t it feel all nice and full having your pussy stuffed with your stepbrother’s big cock?"
Mina starts fucking herself harder when you nod desperately. Your hands go to tangle in his hair as you grind your hips up to meet his thrusts. “Yes! Fuck! Love my stepbrother’s cock stretching me open! Feels so fucking good, Hee!”
Mina knows better than anyone how good you must feel. Although, she imagines you feel must better than she ever did because from the way Heeseung’s fucking you, she can tell he’s doing it with much more enthusiasm and passion. Even his moans are more guttural and full of more pleasure than she’d ever heard. They’re deep as he pulls out until just his tip is spearing you open. Then, he pushes forward, thrusting his cock deep into your fluttering walls.
“That’s it. Tell me how good it feels.” Heeseung leans down, lips brushing against yours. “Don’t be shy, angel. Let me know how much you like this cock fucking you.”
You gasp wantonly and pull him down further to press your lips together. He groans and licks into your mouth easily, tongue slipping past your lips as his cock thrusts deep into your hot, wet cunt. Your hips buck up to meet his, loving how his dick rams into your sweet spot over and over until your sight is painted with pretty little stars.
“Fucking love it, Hee.” You moan between sloppy kisses. “God—I love your cock!”
The coil in Mina’s stomach is close to snapping. By now, her juices are dripping down to her wrist. Luckily, the lewd squelching and sound of skin slapping together drown out any noise she’s making. Heeseung is fucking you so hard and good that she can smell the musky scent of sex from where she’s standing. The erotic aroma turns her on even more, pussy clamping down on her fingers in desperate need of release.
“Tight little pussy feels so good.” Heeseung moans out between the quick pecks he’s giving you. “God, I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.”
Your heart races as Mina’s breaks all over again. It hurts, but somehow that just turns her on even more. She keeps fingering herself as tears pool in her eyes.
With a low moan, your pussy clamps down on Heeseung’s dick tightly as you go to eagerly kiss him. A soft I love you, too goes unnoticed by Mina, but not by your stepbrother. He groans into your mouth, cock throbbing inside you.
“Mmmh.” Heeseung hums against your lips before he trails wet kisses down your neck. “I love my gorgeous girl. That’s why this feels so good. Even your tight little pussy knows how much I love you.”
His gorgeous girl? Mina thinks deliriously, orgasm dangerously close. It’s something he never referred to her as.
You cry out loudly when Heeseung bites your neck and sucks the skin into his mouth. His hips rock against yours, balls smacking against your ass as his pelvis grinds down on your swollen clit.
“Seungie!” You whine in ecstasy. “I’m getting close.”
Your stepbrother doesn’t let up. In fact, his thrusts seem to get faster and rougher. His cock pistons in and out of your cunt, creating sloppy wet sounds as you get even wetter. His eyes are dark as he pulls back to look at you, all pretty squirming and trembling on his cock.
“Cum for me, baby. Cover my cock with your sweet cream so I can fill you up.” Heeseung pants. “Cum on my cock, angel.”
His teeth sink into your neck again, and it pushes you over the edge. Your hot cunt throbs as you squeeze down on his cock. Somehow your pussy only gets tighter and tighter as you get fucked through your orgasm. You tighten your legs around his waist until he can barely pull out, rutting his cock in short shallow thrusts as your climax starts to taper off.
“So fucking tight.” Heeseung hisses by your ear. “Shit, baby. Get ready. I’m about to creampie your cute little pussy. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
With a strangled grunt, he buries his cock to the hilt and shoots his load deep inside your fluttering walls while your pussy softly milks him for every drop of his hot cum. Mina reaches her own climax when she sees her boyfriend cumming inside you. She has to stifle her moans as she trembles and shakes outside the room that’s filled with the smell and sounds of hot sex.
“You’re taking it so well, angel.” Heeseung kisses your jaw tenderly as his fat tip spurts rope after rope of his thick cum into your clenching heat. “Milking my cock like I knew you would.”
He grinds his hips down, cock pulsing as he finishes stuffing you full of his hot, sticky load. Your stepbrother fucks his cum inside a bit more before reluctantly pulling out. Heeseung’s cock throbs as he watches his seed drip from your messy pussy.
He licks his lips, heated gaze never leaving your body. “Let’s do it again.”
You don’t try to protest as your manhandles into a different position. Mina is still coming down from her high when she realizes her boyfriend is still hard and about to fuck you again. She knows she shouldn’t feel excited or aroused by the fact, but she does. Especially when your face is shoved into one of Heeseung’s pillows just before his big cock rails back into your needy pussy.
Heeseung starts fucking you so hard his headboard slams into the wall repeatedly. The harsh sound pairs well with the plop plop plop sound coming from your cunt.
“God, Y/N. You’re so fucking good for me.” Heeseung groans when you clench down on him.
You moan loudly, bouncing yourself back on his cock. “Fu-Fuck, Seungie. This is wrong. We s-shouldn’t be doing this.”
“I know.” Your stepbrother smacks your ass, not sounding the least bit remorseful. “It’s so dirty baby, but I couldn’t help myself. Had to get my dick wet using your pretty little pussy.”
“Mmmh!” You whine out mindlessly, face turned to the side with your ass raised in the air for Heeseung to fuck deeper into your wet hole. “Feels so fucking good!”
“Yeah, it does.” Heeseung’s laugh sounds almost mean as he speeds up his thrusts to fuck his cock harder into your sopping cunt. “Your cute little pussy is the best I’ve ever had.”
His words shouldn’t please you as much as they do, but those lewd words turn you on so much that you can’t stop your cunt from tightening around him as he keeps spearing into you like an animal in heat. They also shouldn’t turn on Heeseung’s girlfriend but that’s exactly what they do. She isn’t angry, only extremely aroused as your ass bounces back on your stepbrother’s pelvis.
“Fuck!” Heeseung groans, fucking his cock right into your g-spot. “You’re so fucking hot, angel.”
You are. So hot that Mina finds herself wishing she could eat Heeseung’s cum out of your pretty cunt. She just knows you taste good, and mixed with her boyfriend she’s sure you must taste even better.
“Seungie, please!” You cry out, dizzy with arousal.
“Shit.” He growls, slipping a hand underneath your hips to rub fast circles on your clit. “Gonna make you cream on my cock again.”
“Heeseung!” You squeal as he picks up his pace, ramming into your squelching pussy as he rubs soft circles into your swollen clit.
Your stepbrother shoves his cock deep into your cunt and grinds, making you squirm and whine as his dick rubs against the spongy spot in your pussy. Your hands twist in the sheets. He flicks and pinches your puffy clit. God, do you look good, and so does Heeseung. Mina is groping one of her tits while the other hand goes to play with her pussy again. Briefly, she thinks she wouldn’t mind having a video of you two fucking so she can watch it over and over again.
“Hee, I’m gonna cum.” You moan against the pillow.
“Do it, baby.” He encourages you, free hand coming down to slap your ass hard. “Cum all over my cock. Want to feel your hot cunt squeeze me.”
It’s not long before your orgasm hits. You’re screaming into your pillow as your cream coats Heeseung’s big cock. Your pussy clamps rhythmically around his dick. Mina can’t see you, but with the way your toes are curling she can tell your eyes are rolling to the back of your head in pure ecstasy.
“Oh, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Heeseung praises you. His hands move to slap your ass again, making you squeal and tighten again. “Fucking work your little pussy on my cock. Fuck. Need to fill you up again.”
“Want you to stuff me full.” You whine back at him, pussy fluttering at the thought of Heeseung’s cum filling your cunt again.
“Yeah?” Your stepbrother laughs, sounding way too delighted. “Want me to creampie your hot little cunt again?”
“Please!” You whine as Heeseung’s fingers slide over your hip to start working soft circles into your clit again. You writhe back on him, feeling yourself get even wetter at the filthy thought of him shooting his hot load inside you.
“Cum inside me, Hee.” You pant, mewling when his fingers rub your clit even faster. “Want it so bad. Want to feel it.”
“Oh, fuck.” Heeseung groans, hips snapping hard against your ass when he feels how tight you’ve gotten. “You ready, baby? Fucking take it. Take your stepbrother’s cum in your needy little cunt.”
You moan loudly when you feel his hot cum filling your pussy, stuffing you so full it drips out around his cock. Heeseung ruts his spent cock into your sloppy pussy as he pinches your clit, watching as your back arches as a fourth orgasm sweeps through you. You lazily fuck your cunt back into him, loving the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and coating your thighs.
Heeseung pulls out of your warm cunt with a low groan. He’s quick to pull you against his chest and lays you down with him. His face is buried in your hair, eyes closed in bliss as you both try to catch your breaths. You feel his smile in your hair as he cuddles you and murmurs sweet praises against your temple.
Through your drooping eyes, you catch sight of Mina. Her eyes widen when you two make eye contact. You can’t hide your smirk when you see that she was masturbating to the sight of Heeseung fucking you raw. Instead of saying anything, you give her a seductive wink. Mina clenches around her fingers because the wink is full of understanding and promises.
It’s clear that Heeseung was never hers, but maybe you wouldn’t mind sharing.
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scuderiahoney · 4 months
Text
Be Brave
Oscar Piastri x reader
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Masterlist
Summary: You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: none
a/n: this is not the angst I threatened or the fic from the dialogue poll I did, but a secret third thing: a request I finally got the motivation to finish after seeing cute pics of Oscar with kids. Enjoy!
In hindsight, whoever’s idea it was to bring a classroom of five year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre- an active car factory- has definitely never stepped foot in a classroom full of five years olds. You’re lucky- your students are quite well behaved, and you’ve got plenty of parent chaperones with you. It turns out that about half your class’ families seem to be McLaren fans. Half your students had showed up today in bright orange- papaya, one of them had corrected you. You’re not complaining- it makes them easier to spot.
The field trip has been fun. The kids are thrilled about everything. It’s just. Tiny hands, tiny humans, wandering through an active car factory? You’re on edge the whole time. You’re constantly scanning the class, counting to make sure you haven’t lost any students as the tour guide tries to explain mechanical engineering in words that 5 year olds will understand.
You breathe a mild sigh of relief when they bring you into a large, open conference room. They’re going to have someone come speak to the kids in a few minutes. While you have the chance, and a closed room with enough people to guard the exits, you stand in front of your class and tell them to go wild. Seventeen five year olds begin to run around the room. One 5 year old clings to your hand in the quietest corner of the room.
Sammy. He’s a quiet kid, not one for the chaos. He’s stuck to your side the whole morning, staring at everything with big eyes and jumping at all the loud noises. You relate to him more than you’d like to admit. Somehow, the quiet kid turned into a teacher. It seems almost hard to believe looking back, how painfully shy you were.
Sammy tugs on your hand and points at a large mural on one of the walls. “Who’s that?” He asks.
The room you’re in has the two current drivers plastered on the walls, larger than life. You look where he’s pointing and smile.
“That’s Oscar Piastri,” you say, extending the syllables for him.
“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” he sounds out. “That’s my dad’s favorite driver.”
You smile. “Wanna know a secret?” He nods, and so you whisper loudly. “He’s my favorite too.”
Sammy giggles. “Oscar Piastri.”
“He says it better than most of the broadcasters, I think,” says someone behind you.
You turn and come face to face with none other than Oscar Piastri. You hope your shock isn’t too obvious, and you try to control your wide eyes. They’d said someone from the team was going to come talk to your kids- you hadn’t expected it to be one of the drivers. You smile politely as you feel Sammy step behind your legs.
“Hi. Sorry about the…” you wave your hand in the general direction of the children running around behind you. “If they didn’t get some excercise they were never going to make it through the rest of the day.”
“No worries,” Oscar says, smiling brightly. He looks at Sammy where he’s hiding behind you. “Not this guy, though?”
“No, Sammy here is very well behaved and polite,” you say proudly, before whispering, “and quite shy.”
Oscar nods in understanding. His face has gone soft. You weren’t lying when you said he was your favorite, and it only increases with the way he looks at the five year old so fondly. You think maybe Oscar understands Sammy all too well. You turn over your shoulder to look at the little boy.
“Sammy, should we practice being big and brave and introducing ourselves?” You ask. He frowns slightly but nods anyways. “We’ll do it together, okay?”
He nods again and steps out from behind your legs. You stand up straight, and he follows suit. Then you stick your hand out to shake Oscar’s as you introduce yourself.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, repeating your name back to you. “I’m Oscar.”
Sammy takes a tentative step forward and sticks his tiny hand out. You drop back just a bit and pull your phone from your pocket, giving Oscar a questioning glance and making a camera sort of motion with your hands. He nods eagerly before he crouches down to Sammy’s level.
“My name is Samuel,” he says, as he shakes Oscar’s hand. “But you can call me Sammy.”
You hide an endeared laugh behind your hand and snap a picture of the two of them. You know his parents will be thrilled.
“Hi, Sammy,” Oscar says sweetly. “My name is Oscar. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“You’re my dad’s favorite driver,” Sammy says. “And my teacher’s favorite driver. So I think you’re my favorite, too. Os-car Pi-as-tri.”
You stare down at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling betrayed by your favorite student. Your face grows warm, but Oscar just laughs lightly and smiles up at you.
“Is that so?” He says, turning back to Sammy. “I’m honored.”
He stands back up, and Sammy goes back to clinging to your side. There’s a bright smile on Oscar’s face. You know yours matches it.
“So, are you our guest speaker?” You ask, trying to will your face to cool down.
He nods eagerly, eyes darting around the room, watching kids run everywhere. One of them bumps into the back of your legs and squeaks out a quick apology before running away again. He laughs lightly, hiding it behind his hand.
“Hopefully Lando and I can keep them entertained,” he says.
“Oh, they’ll be fine, they’ll sit quietly when I ask them to,” you say.
He gives you an uncertain look, a soft smirk on his lips. You laugh, hoping it’s not painfully obvious how taken you are with him. He’s been your favorite driver because of his level head and dry humor, but standing in front of him you can’t help but notice how cute he is. Before he can say anything in response and challenge your ability to control your class, Lando comes stumbling into the room.
“Okay, now this is my kinda school trip,” he says, an impressed grin on his lips. He elbows Oscar. “This was me as a kid.”
Oscar gestures towards Sammy, still tucked against your leg. “This was me, I think.”
Lando laughs and nods. He tilts his head at you, and you stick your hand out once again and introduce yourself. Sammy follows suit. Lando bends to shake the five year olds hand, giving both you and him an impressed smile.
“Sammy’s working on being big and brave and introducing himself,” Oscar says.
“Well he’s doing a great job,” Lando says with an approving nod.
“He’s got a great teacher,” Oscar says, grinning at you.
With that, your face grows hot again. You clear your throat and turn over your shoulder to look at the class. They’re beginning to slow just slightly. Perfect timing.
You clap your hands, and each of them skids to a stop, turning to look at you. “Okay, friends! Come sit up here, we have some very special guest speakers.”
The children all make their way to the front of the room, sitting down on the carpet in a semicircle. Even Sammy wanders away, taking a seat near the back. You turn back to Oscar and Lando, who both have impressed looks on their faces.
“I think we need you to run our meetings,” Oscar says, brows raised.
“Oh, if you give them permission to go crazy consistently when they need it, they’ll listen when you tell them it’s time to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “My mum was a teacher, too, she taught me that.”
“Yeah, if Zak let me be a menace before meetings I’d have a lot easier time sitting through them,” Lando agrees. “Alright, you little muppets!”
He steps in front of the class. Oscar gives you an exasperated smile, like you’re both sharing a moment of understanding. Maybe Lando’s still a 5 year old at heart. You laugh and step back with the chaperones to watch them speak as Oscar follows Lando’s lead. It’s fun to watch. You realize they couldn’t have picked better speakers.
Some of the kids recognize the drivers, but even the ones who don’t are enamored once they find out that these guys drive race cars for a living. You snap lots of pictures of your students staring up at them with wide grins. Lando continues to call them muppets, earning laughs each time. Oscar gets down on their level and uses a little model of the car to explain the aerodynamics. They give a horrible demonstration of slipstream, with Lando pretending to drive and Oscar pretending to be the air. Then, at the end, they open it up for questions. Eighteen tiny hands fly up into the air.
“Do you speed when you drive a normal car?” One of them asks.
“Never,” Lando lies.
“D’you ever fight with other drivers?” Another student asks.
“We try to leave what happens in the race on the track,” Oscar answers. “We’re all quite nice to each other outside of the races, actually.”
Lando shrugs and shakes his hand from side to side. A few of the kids catch on and laugh.
Sammy is sitting in the back of the group, his hand raised. He’s not waving it around, not bouncing up and down. But you watch Oscar scan the group, see him spot the tiny hand anyways.
“Sammy,” he calls out. “What’s your question?”
Sammy looks shocked to have been called on, but he clears his throat and speaks up. “What’s your favorite color?”
The grin that breaks across Oscar’s face is endearing. Lando smiles, too, presses his hand to his chest. You wait for the canned answer- papaya, you think.
“Mine’s bright green,” Lando says.
Oscar nods. “Mine is blue. What’s yours?”
“Mine is blue too,” Sammy answers.
“Good taste.” Oscar says. He exchanges a grin with you. You smile proudly at Sammy, so happy to see him step out of his shell just a bit.
The next student who gets called on says, “my mum told me to ask if you’re single,” and you clap your hands and walk towards the front.
“Okay, friends, I think Oscar and Lando have given us enough of their time,” you say. “Can we all say a big thank you?”
A chorus of little voices calls out varying forms of thank you. One of them screams it, and Lando winces. Oscar’s cheeks are pink, probably from the student asking about his relationship status. Is it bad that you almost wanted him to answer? You’re being ridiculous, you know. But his flushed face is cute, and you can’t help but smile at him.
You shake their hands one more time before they leave. “Thanks again. You’ve really just made their days.”
“We were happy to,” Oscar says.
“Yeah, you’ve got a good group of kids,” Lando agrees.
“And they’ve got a good teacher,” Oscar repeats his earlier comment.
You laugh, feeling your face grow hot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
Oscar goes to say something else, but someone leans in through the door and calls out to him and Lando. He smiles sheepishly as Lando urges him towards the exit, tugging on his shirt.
“It was nice meeting you!” Oscar calls out before he disappears through the doors.
You turn back to your class and refocus. It’s time to move on to lunch, which is always the worst part of any field trip. Someone comes by to bring your group to the cafeteria. Your field trip worst nightmare- a large, open room full of people. You make sure all the chaperones are set with their groups and head off.
It goes fine. At first. You get the kids settled at tables and do a quick head count. Everyone’s there. They provide lunch for the kids, so you help to hand them out to everyone. Eighteen five year olds sit quietly, eat sandwiches and drink juice. You breath a little sigh of relief.
Then the kids all decide they need to go to the bathroom. You split them up, send them with chaperones in groups. You stay back at the tables with the ones who say they don’t need to go, knowing full well that in ten minutes they’ll be whining for the restroom. You clean up spilled apple juice and eat half your lunch. The bathroom groups come back one by one. Seventeen five year olds sit down at the tables.
And no, that can’t be right. You count again. Seventeen. One more time- seventeen. There’s an empty seat. You turn to the nearest chaperone, who also has a panicked look on his face.
“Sammy,” he says, eyes wide. “He was in my bathroom group, I swore he came back with us-“
You can’t panic. You turn to the nearest McLaren employee and tell them the situation. The look on her face tells you she’s going to panic, so you take control of the situation. You ask her to get everyone on the lookout for him, to page him over the speakers. Then you turn to your class.
“Friends,” you say, loudly. “Has anyone seen Sammy?”
Casey, one of the louder boys, raises his hand. “He stopped to tie his shoes when we were coming back.”
You could strangle the parent for not noticing, for not keeping an eye on the kids, but you don’t have time for that. At the very least, you have a starting point. You delegate a couple chaperones to stay with the kids in the cafeteria, and enlist a couple others to help you look. Panic is itching at the back of your brain, but you keep it tamped down. You’ll find him, and then you’ll freak out about it.
You split up, wandering the halls and asking everyone if they’ve seen a shy five year old with dark hair. They all tell you no, but that they’ll keep their eyes peeled. You check around corners, behind doors, in conference rooms and offices. You think you accidentally interrupt what was likely a very important meeting, though when you explain you’re looking for a missing child the men in suits all seem to understand.
The longer it goes on, the more sick to your stomach you feel. It’s Sammy. He got separated from his group and probably panicked just like you want to do now. He could be anywhere. He’s tiny, he could be hiding somewhere you’d never even think to look. His parents are going to kill you-
Oscar calls your name. It’s probably odd that you already recognize his voice, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You turn to look at him, and relief washes over you. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, his hand holding onto Sammy’s. You want to march down the hallway to them, but instead you collapse against one of the walls and press your hand to your mouth. Oscar pulls him towards you.
“I found him wandering in the hallway upstairs,” Oscar says. “He said he got lost.”
You nod, crouching down to Sammy’s level. He hides behind Oscar’s legs slightly.
“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “It’s okay. You found a helper, right? We always say that, look for the helpers. It’s okay! But next time you stop to tie your shoe-“ Oscar muffles a laugh behind his hand at that. “-you tell a grown up, okay?”
Sammy nods solemnly. You stand back up.
“Thank you,” you say to Oscar. “I owe you one, big time.”
“No worries,” he says, shrugging. “Knew you must be freaking out, so.”
You reach for Sammy’s hand and head for the cafeteria. To your surprise, Oscar follows. You’re not complaining.
“I’ve only been teaching for a year,” you explain, though you doubt he cares. The nervous energy needs to go somewhere, you suppose. “And I still feel brand new, you know? And school trips- don’t even get me started.”
Oscar laughs. “But field trips were the best part of school.”
“I lost a five year old in a car factory,” you say dryly. “Field trips are much less fun as a teacher.”
Oscar nods in understanding, trying and failing to hide his laughter. You come into view of the cafeteria and start counting heads. There are seventeen other 5 year olds still sitting at the tables. Sammy joins them, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does too. You pull out your phone and call the other chaperoned who went off to look, and tell them to head back to the cafeteria. With any luck, you might still be able to finish the tour.
“He’s a good kid,” Oscar says fondly, and you smile.
“He’s my favorite,” you admit. “I was a shy kid, too.”
Oscar leaves soon after that with a soft smile and an even softer goodbye. You wish he was the one leading the tour, but you know that would never happen. You’re lucky enough to have had the chance to meet him. He’s the same age as you, and he’s a world famous racecar driver. He’s probably already forgotten your name.
The rest of the tour is uneventful. None of your students wander off, and all of them are well behaved. They spot photos of Oscar and Lando in the halls and point excitedly at them, calling out their names. Finally, you’re brought out onto the lawn near the lake, and you give the kids a few minutes to play in the grass. You have the strong urge to lay down on the lawn and let them run until they all pass out. They have boundless energy, but you’re exhausted.
Someone nudges your arm lightly. You turn, expecting it to be a kid or a chaperone, but you come face to face with Oscar again.
“Oh god, did I lose another one?” You ask frantically.
He laughs. “No, no! Just came by to say goodbye.”
“Oh,” you say in understanding. “Thanks again, you know, for finding Sammy and for talking to the kids. I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking about this for ages.”
Oscar’s cheeks are flushed. “I’m glad they had a good time.”
You nod. “I did too, even with all the chaos. You have a really cool job, you know?”
He shrugs. “Not as important as yours. Tiny minds, shaping the future, you know.”
You let out a puff of air. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just struggling to keep the tiny humans alive, let alone teach them anything.”
He’s staring at you with this warm look on his face. You like his smile. There’s something comforting about it.
“Nah, I see the way they look at you. And Sammy introduced himself, you taught him that,” Oscar says. “That’s way more important than shapes or letters.”
Your face grows even hotter. “Thanks, Oscar.”
You see the bus pulling up the road out of the corner of your eye. About time to round the kids up. You turn towards your class, who are running around on the grass.
“Well, I’ve got to get them rounded up to go back, so unless you want to get mobbed by tiny humans you might want to make a run for it,” you say. “They’re distracted now, but they’ve been talking about you all afternoon.”
Oscar laughs brightly. “Yeah. I’ll head out. Um- d’you maybe-“ he pauses, and when you turn to him he shakes his head. “Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to school. Just. Have a good rest of your day. It was lovely meeting you.”
“You too,” you say warmly. “Thanks again.”
He disappears and you watch him go. You wonder what he was going to say- it sounded an awful lot like a question. But he’s gone now, and you’ll probably never see him again, so you try and let it go. By the time you get your class back to the school, it’s almost time for pickup. They’re all half asleep at their desks, absolutely worn out. Parents come by one by one to pick them up, and when Sammy’s dad shows up, you pull him aside and explain everything, the worst feeling in your stomach.
He laughs and shakes his head. “He does that to us all the time. We’ll be on a walk and he just- stops. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
Sammy wanders over as you’re still processing the fact that his dad isn’t mad. “Guess who I met?” He says, staring up at his dad with a wide grin.
“Who?” His dad asks.
“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” Sammy says.
“That’s actually true,” you chime in. “I have the pictures to prove it.”
His dad looks at you with wide eyes. “If you’d have led with that, I wouldn’t have even heard you when you said he got lost.”
Despite what Sammy’s dad said, you toss and turn all night. Thankfully, it’s a Friday, so you don’t have to teach the next day. Every time you close your eyes you think of seventeen tiny heads, and one missing, and you feel sick to your stomach again. When you finally do fall asleep, you dream of children disappearing and warm brown eyes paired with an Australian accent. You spend the weekend trying to get your mind off of all of it.
On Monday, Sammy’s mother brings him into the classroom earlier than normal. You’re still turning on the lights and straightening things when they come in. He’s holding a little bouquet of flowers, and your heart melts.
“Sammy wanted to apologize for getting lost,” his mother says. “We know you must’ve been very worried.”
You let out a breath. “Thank you, Sammy.”
He nods, and you take the flowers from him. Then he scurries away to the play area.
“It’s okay,” his mother says. “Peter said you were really beating yourself up over it.”
You shrug. “It’s my worst fear, you know? I hate school trips.”
She laughs. “You know, he really likes you. We were worried, with how quiet he is, that he’d hate school. But you make it fun for him. So thank you.”
You smile, unsure of what to say in response other than, “thank you.”
You turn to your desk to find a vase or a cup for the bouquet, and that’s when you see the other flowers. A mix of white peonies and white roses and greenery, with little orange flowers stuck between all of them. You stop in your tracks. Behind you, Sammy’s mother laughs.
“Got a secret admirer?”
You shake your head uncertainly. You’re not sure how anyone even got flowers into your classroom this early on a Monday. But there they are, sitting proud and pretty. There’s a note tucked into the stems with your name on it, and so you pull the little envelope out and open it.
Hi,
I hope you had a lovely time at the MTC. I really enjoyed meeting you. I’d love to take you out for dinner sometime. Hope this isn’t too forward,
Oscar
His number is written below. You let out a squeak. You can tell she wants to look over your shoulder or ask who it’s from, but she bites her tongue. Sammy’s your favorite student, and his parents are up there, too. But this feels like too much to share with a parent, so you shove the note in your pocket.
“Just a friend,” you lie.
“How sweet,” she says, nodding. “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll take Sammy out to the playground. We just wanted to stop in and chat.”
“Thank you,” you say, turning to her with a smile. “And sorry. Again.”
She gives you an amused smile. “It’s okay.”
You carry the note around in your pocket with you the whole day, unsure of what to do about it. Of course, all your students notice the flowers, and they tell all their friends at lunch, who then tell all their teachers. Suddenly everyone seems to need to borrow something from you, sticking their heads into your classroom and just then noticing the flowers. How pretty! Beautiful! Who are they from? You tell them all the same thing. A friend. It’s only when your favorite coworker, Maggie, comes into your classroom later that you finally tell someone.
The kids have all gone home for the day, and you’re cleaning up the last bits of paper from your class activity. She walks in and beelines for the bouquet on the desk.
“Okay, I have a theory,” she says.
“And what’s that?” You ask.
“Orange flowers,” she says. “Someone from your trip on Friday.”
“Papaya,” you correct softly.
“Huh?”
“They call it papaya, not orange,” you say. She gives you a look, one brow raised. “I know. I…”
You dig the envelope out of your pocket and throw it to her. She opens it and gasps, sinking down in your desk chair. She must reread it five times, letting out giddy noises.
“So when are you getting dinner?” She asks.
“I haven’t texted him yet,” you admit.
She stares at you with wide eyes. “He’s your favorite driver and he gave you his number and you didn’t text him?”
“That’s the thing though, Mags,” you say with a sigh. You lean against one of the desks. “He’s an F1 driver. I’m… me.”
“Yeah, and he liked you enough to send flowers to your classroom.”
“It’s not that, it’s…” you shrug. “Those guys date supermodels and actresses and pro athletes. I’m… a teacher.”
“Babe, if you don’t text him you’ll regret it,” she says. “Big time. Just give him a shot.”
You take your flowers home with you, placing them carefully in the passenger seat of your car. You set them on your kitchen counter. They oddly feel like they belong there, like that’s what the room has been missing, though you didn’t know it before. And as you sit there and eat dinner, you take out your phone and type in a new number.
…..
It takes a while for your schedules to line up, but when they finally do, you find that Oscar’s a fun person to go on a date with. Fun might be an understatement, actually. You’ve never had a better time on a date.
You’ve been texting since the day he sent you the flowers, back and forth trying to coordinate a date at first. And then it turned into little funny texts, photos of things throughout your days that made you both smile. You update him on your class, he tells you what chaos Lando’s been causing. He sends memes, and you send him ones back. By the time you actually see him in person again, it’s like you already know him.
You’d been worried that a date with someone like him was going to be a fancy restaurant that you would feel out of place at. But he suggests a little hole in the wall pub that he says is his favorite, and you eagerly agree. You meet him there in a casual outfit, jeans and a cute sweater. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater too, his hair adorably messy. He has that same warm smile on his face.
The two of you sit and order, and any awkwardness you’d expected just isn’t there. It’s like you’re two old friends, already comfortable with each other. He jokes with you, and you match his dry humor step for step. He’s the only person you’ve ever been on a date with who doesn’t seem to bore of your stories about 5 year olds. His knee knocks against yours under the table, and you don’t pull away. You find yourself leaning closer, actually. You’re longing to reach across the table, to feel his skin against yours.
You look around later and realize it’s been quite a while since the two of you sat down. The restaurant is starting to empty out. Oscar seems to notice the same, and reluctantly asks for the bill, refusing when you try to pay for your own. You both stand up from the table and head for the door. You stop just outside, breathing in the cool night air.
He nods towards a nearby park. “Wanna take a walk?”
You definitely aren’t ready to say goodbye, so you agree. He sees you shiver slightly, and within seconds he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s warm, like him, and it smells like him too. You smile bashfully up at him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. When your hand pops out, he wastes no time in linking your fingers together. You bite back a gasp.
His hand is warm against yours. It sends a shiver up your spine. You hold on tight to him and hope your palm isn’t sweaty.
He turns to look at you. “I had a really good time tonight.”
You smile. “Me too.”
“I was thinking, wondering I guess,” he says, “If you’d maybe want to do this again?”
You slow to a stop under a streetlight. He follows suit. You press your eyes shut.
“Oscar, I… I had a really good time. And I really like you,” you tell him. “But you’re world famous and I’m just me. I just don’t know…”
He squeezes your hand. “We can take it slow.”
You sigh and open your eyes to look at him. The fluorescent light shines off his fluffy hair and his cheekbones. He has a hopeful look in his eye that you’d hate to rid him of.
“You make me feel grounded,” he says. Your heart twists in your chest. “You have since that day at the MTC. You’ve just got this calming presence. And I think you’re funny, and pretty, and- yeah.”
“You think I’m pretty?” You tease.
He blushes. “Shut up.”
It’s scary, really, to think about. You want to try but he’s a bit intimidating, no matter how well you get along. And the attention that will come from dating him is even scarier. But you think of Sammy, hiding behind your legs, and how you’re trying to teach your students to be big and brave, and how you should try that, too.
You laugh and squeeze his hand. “I think you’re pretty too,” you admit, just to watch his cheeks grow redder. A sheepish smile crosses his lips, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “And kind, and funny. So yeah. We should do this again.”
“Cool,” Oscar says.
“Cool,” you agree.
Then he kisses you under the streetlamp, his hand still linked with yours. And yeah, you could get used to this.
…..
Two months later, when Sammy comes into class, he points an excited finger at you.
“I saw you on TV!” He squeaks.
You laugh. “Did you?”
He nods assertively. “My mum said I was probably wrong, but I know it was you. You were holding hands with Os-car Pi-as-tri.”
You laugh and put a finger to your lips. He takes the hint, but he laughs the whole way to his seat. You think it might be time to talk to Oscar about going public with your relationship. After all, if the five year olds are catching on, the adults will be soon, too.
When your students find out, they beg you to take them to a race. You think back to the McLaren field trip and decide you’re never, ever taking eighteen 5 year olds anywhere near a race track. That would be bad for everyone’s health. But when Sammy shows up as a grid kid at the next British Grand Prix, that’s all on Oscar. It’s definitely not because he’s your favorite student.
Okay, maybe it is.
a/n: my lovely 🐈❤️‍🩹 anon sent me a photo of Oscar with a grid kid & said: Oscar and Sammy. Please look at this photo I screamed over it. can imagine teacher!reader standing off to the side trying not to cry over how cute Oscar is tbh. anyways thanks for reading!!
taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan
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screampied · 4 months
Text
JAILBREAK. — SUGURU GETO. ☆
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synopsis. you hate your job as a part time correctional officer. things change once you have to “babysit” one of the dangerous criminals of the a-block floor, suguru geto. but girl, maybe sleeping with an egotistical cocky ass inmate might have been your biggest mistake yet.
wc. 5.5k
warnings. modern au, fem!reader, pwp, inmate geto, corruption kink, degradation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, geto has a tongue piercing, hair pulling, praise, overstim, reader’s kinda delulu
an. thank uuu @osaemu for beta readin someee!! inmate geto is my new hyperfixation omge
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it was as if each shift became longer and longer, your daily occupation, nothing special, nothing fancy, just a correctional officer at some high maintenance prison near the city.
the stench of musk and sweat wafted around you, such a reoccurrence that it was practically normal. it was around midnight, as how most of your shifts were, and as you trod towards the secluded darkened space for only the inmates dangerous to themselves and others, you intake a breath before swiping your key near your hip, preparing to unlock the glass-like metal steel door.
“oh,” you close the door behind you, and that familiar deep voice does something to you.
what…?
you don’t know, but it had such bass in it, you turned to face the inmate, no one other than suguru geto. “…yo,” he mocks, giving you a sly head nod, his eyes scan up and down your body, your uniform and then your own meets his pursed lips. somehow, he managed to find a cigarette. again. “hmpf. they got the newbie watchin' me again? you do know that gun on your hip isn’t a toy, right?”
your eyebrows twitch, and your facial expressions formed into a deadpan as you walked towards him with his daily meal in hand. “yeah and i’m not afraid to use it on you if necessary.”
“ooh. rookie’s got jokes, that’s cute.” he grins.
you murmured, and he only smiles, he knows you didn’t mean that, he pissed you off, even if he wasn’t saying anything exactly. pulling out your staff notepad checklist of where you usually kept track of all the inmates attendance and meals, you uttered, “but anyways…” you blowed, “no one fed you today, suguru. you must be starving.”
“yeah, 'm starvin’ ‘n more ways than you can imagine, princess,” geto hums, and you suddenly freeze once the inmate stands up firm and tall. he’s just so damn big—broad wide shoulders, long slight shaggy dark toned hair, and with a split-second gaze, you look near geto’s orange jumpsuit. the bulge, yeah you spotted that immediately, but his tattoos…
his fucking tattoos.
“can you at least try to behave for a few minutes.” you sighed, and he's already getting on your last nerve. he could tell too…and damn was he was just getting nothing but pure amusement from your sheer irritation.
“eh, depends,” he speaks in a low gruff, his attention was on you and only you, raising his darkened thin arched brows before his lips converge into a witty smirk. “ya gonna feed me my food, babe? oh, you should know. poor inmate like me can’t feed myself when i’m all,” and he pauses while speaking, placing his hands in his lap — giving his wrists a slight shimmy and you hear the metal dance against his skin. “…handcuffed.”
it took everything within you to not smack this arrogant suave bastard, geto flirted with you whatever chance he got, with no shame either. you’re a pretty girl, well mannered, yet never took anyone’s shit, he liked that about you.
your job wasn’t to be taken lightly, it could be considered scary at times with the various inmates you have to deal on a day to day basis, but simply, you were just a girl with an attitude. but he wasn’t fond of brats, especially brats like you.
“…fine,” you mumbled, making your way towards him. he sat on the steel uncomfortable bed that was as usual, never made. geto practically lived in solitary confinement, they don’t call him the suguru geto for a reason. his name was known amongst many, he was feared worldwide. geto wasn’t exactly a good guy, far from it actually.
he’s a criminal and his record was… definitely spine chilling to say the least. “don’t try anything, just open your mouth.”
“hm, alright then.” he happily complies, his demeanor changes just a bit, and he’s more playful. geto opens his mouth just slightly and you spot tiny dimples form near the corners of his lips, and you gradually stick the spoon into his mouth, feeding him whatever food was made for the inmates of the night.
baked mash potatoes, geto stated it was one of his favorites and you just so happened to remember. a smile forms on his lips as you feed him. your eyes darted towards him, and now he’s just staring intimately at you.
that smirk that forever rested against his pink thinly parted lips.
“m-mhm.” he grunts, and your eyes widen just a bit, he was messing with you, and you don’t even realize geto’s got his hand gripped on your waist. stroking a thumb against your belt, you felt the feeling of him rubbing all against the firearm that was strapped tightly on you.
before you could smack his hand, geto swiftly brings you on top of his lap, stealing out a gasp from you at how quick he was with his movements. the silver spoon sticks out his mouth before you take it out, only to return him with an irritated glare.
“what do you think you’re doing?” you uttered, growing quite embarrassed yet trying to maintain a level-head.
“told ya,” he grumbles, swiping a tongue against the excess mash potatoes that remained near his lips. “i’m hungry, babe. that was good, but i’m not satisfied. i need more.”
“inmates in solitary confinement aren’t allowed to have seco—”
“pretty girl, you know what i’m talkin’ about,” geto chuckles, and you shiver a bit from feeling the soft pads of his thumb brush against the belt of your waist again. you were in uniform but this entire position was so dirty. not to mention, it’s not like this place of the prison was exactly secluded. it was, but there was bound to be people were walking by. “i’ve been seein’ the way you stare at me.”
he was just infuriating, but you didn’t know how to reply so…you didn’t. you just sat there on the inmate’s lap, with a quite dumb expression and he’s just eating it up. “geto—”
“it’s just you ‘n me, girl,” he slyly whispers, and his voice drops just a bit as he stops you from speaking. his touch against your waist just gave you more and more goosebumps. all the way up until you felt it. geto infamous boner that hid beneath his jumpsuit. he’s been incarcerated for at least three years now, in and out. he was for sure horny. you could just tell from his seductive gaze. “don’t gotta be shy. was waiting for you to show up if ‘m being honest. you’re not like the rest, y’know?”
that’s when you gasp, realizing his handcuffs were off — he must have took the key from your pocket, because he was just feeling you up now. you let off a surprised noise once you felt geto starting to make you grind against his lap, feeling his hefty bulge.
“sugu-” you mumbled, and he’s just staring at you with a sly grin pressing onto his lips, only before he leans directly up close to your neck, giving a part near your collarbone a soft deep suck.
you whine from feeling the near sharp edges of his teeth lightly dig into your skin, playfully.
“mhm, pretty thing like you isn’t fit to be workin’ here. cutesy little prison guard,” he sung, his warm breath wafts against your skin, “crushin’ on your inmates is real unprofessional, ya know. you could get fired.”
he was right, you could get fired. and perhaps he wasn’t lying about the second part too—you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t find suguru geto the slightest bit of attractive. because he was, he and you both knew it.
“don’t be stupid. i’m not crushing on you,” you denied, yet embarrassingly enough, your eyes widen at feeling geto air your words — his thick stubby fingers, two of them specifically runs down between your legs and you gasp again. “are you…crazy? there could be cameras in here.”
“so.”
“so? you’re trying to get me fired?” you raised your eyebrows, sitting up from his lap, and he’s playing with you entirely. stroking a rough scarred hand down your back. if it was any other inmate, you’d barely give them a second glance.
geto gives you direct eye contact, and he looks so handsome and lean back, but his messy long black strands of bangs nearly covers his eyes, making him appear to be ten times more feared.
“maybe,” then he chuckles. “it’s okay, if it makes ya feel any better. i fantasized about you at least once or twice while being secluded from the other inmates in this hellhole. i prefer you over the other annoying officers who’re always givin’ me shit.”
you were about to speak but suddenly you couldn’t—you realized how close you were to geto, propped up on his lap, propped up on his bulge. were you really throbbing right now? oh you definitely were.
pulsing, itching, aching.
“soooo, when was the last time you got laid?”
this guy.
“excuse me?” you stammer, entirely being taken aback. such smug fell off his tone, he cocked his head a certain way to let you know he was being genuine. in his own way, of course.
geto’s always been one to flirt with you whenever it was your shift to supervise him. his comments were always so bold. he’d purposely pitch his tone a bit low whenever he spoke to you, no one else. perhaps it was the incarcerated felon crushing on you.
“you heard me,” he mutters, giving you a sly glance. he ghosts a few fingers against your waist. you still don’t know why you’re happily sitting on his lap, but you were comfortable to say the least. “with your long hours i pretty much figure you don’t even have time to finger yourself, let alone get laid. poor baby.”
“…just shut up.” you chastised, his soothing warm words, the way he delivered those last two words as a form of mockery. it made you throb, you pinched yourself, feeling yourself grow out to be hot. 
“make me, girl.” he faked a pout on his lips, almost as if his speech was purposely dumbing you down, solely from the tone. geto teasingly cocks his head towards the right and a teeny smile stretched against his lips. 
and you did. 
he was just poking fun at you—you loathed it, the tension between you and geto, his expressions were relaxed and smug like you won’t do anything. 
so, what did you do? 
you silenced him…with a kiss. 
he’s taken aback, you’re taken aback, you don’t know what came over you but you just couldn’t stand him talking. 
his sly grin, you desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. geto leans back against his bunk. his breath gets caught in his throat with the way you initiated the lustful kiss, parting your mouth open just a bit. 
you can feel geto reaching for the firearm near your hip but with quick reflexes you smack his hand, and he chuckles, pulling you closer towards him. 
he tasted sweet, with a tang of spice. leaning his head forward, he felt your warm breath shudder against him which makes him let off a low grunt once he feels you start to rock against his lap.
geto didn’t expect for you to trail a finger down his jumpsuit. the soft nearly wrinkled fabric, unbuttoning it and he shudders at how you’re all frisky and bold. 
“easy now officer,” he whispers before pulling away, lips pink and glistening with a bit of spit. his voice was a mere rasp and it made you throb. “when i said make me, that’s not what i meant,” and then he smiles, tugging on your work pants. “but you’re something else. take off those pants, i’ve been meaning to show you something.”
geto wanted to show you his tongue, specifically his tongue piercing. not necessarily show you but make you feel it. 
when you kissed him, you felt it tickle against you. the tasteless titanium rubbing against your tongue. it left you all hot and bothered. 
he had you currently laid flat on your back, an entire needy mess, despite it only being a few minutes. how embarrassing…
it was just the way he curled his tongue, flicking it against your pussy, he’s sloppy. two big hands squeeze and grip against your inner thighs, long strands prickling against your legs as he swirled his tongue against your slit. 
“f-fuck,” you’d gasp out, tilting your neck down to stare at geto. he’s already returning your eyes with a coltish glance, puckering his lips briefly to create kissed everywhere between your legs. your hands rummaged through his long silk hair. giving it a firm tug, that earns a low grunt from geto that makes you pulse even more. “tickles, suguru.”
“does it?” he purrs in a cheeky tone, slowly flicking his tongue against your clit—you jounce, a gasp gets caught in your throat at the way the piercing shifts against your folds. the slight coldness of it makes your thighs ache for more “mhm. can’t get enough.”
you pant, tugging and gripping roughly on his hair, geto’s nose deep, his tongue was so greedy. it was just the way he grazed and moved his tongue against your labia. your two sweet flaps, you grew more whiny by the second. 
“s-suguru,” you’d squeak, biting down on your lip. you knew how wrong this was, so why did it turn you on even more? “think…think ‘m getting close.”
“yeah yeah, keep your legs open.” he cuts you off, and you stare down at him. he’s so nasty with his tongue, taking a brief second to spit right on your cunt, dragging a thumb between your slit. “do you get wet like this for all your other inmates?”
you stared down at him, feeling yourself grow more and more aroused by the second—your response was just giving him a subtle head shake. “no, just you.”
“just me?” he repeats, lowering his voice and it’s so attractive. “maybe you really are crushin’ on me.”
“shut up..” you hissed. your breathing started to become more and more erratic, your ears rang and you pulsed from how close you were starting to approach towards your orgasm. 
geto’s entire chin was polished with your sweet slick—covered in nothing but all of it. such a messy eater, each time you tug on his long strands of hair. his husky pitched groans continued to make you pulse.
his piercing slowly lapped against your cunt, and you gasped at the feeling of him inserting a finger inside slowly. 
“ooh, ‘s close isn’t it?” he teases, peppering kisses near your thighs now, nibbling on it playfully with his teeth. “you gonna make a mess for me? slutty prison guard?” 
“y-yes.” you squirmed, your hands idly dragging him closer against your pussy. he chuckles, his technique snatching your breath away quite literally. “suguru… gonna come. wanna cum.”
he lays his tongue flat, lapping and lapping against your clit, giving it a long sweet suck to where his mouth starts watering from the taste and you moan. “ask nicer. where’s your manners huh?”
“p-please,” you whined, growing frustrated, so pent up—your walls clenched around the two fingers he now had buried deep into your cunt. you whimper from the mere stimulation, the way he toys with your g-spot with his lengthy slender fingers had you throbbing pathetically. “let me cum please, s-suguru.”
“oh but i don’t know,” the inmate teases, using his free hand to pry open your thighs a bit more. the cute pout that spread across your lips at his words was so adorable, “aw poor baby,” he hums, playfully blowing against your pussy to watch you writhe in pleasure and utter desperation. “you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”
“suguru, please, please..” you whimpered, not even caring how you sounded. your sweet voice reverberated against the walls of the secluded kept room, own words coiling at your throat. 
he smiles. “how about this,” and for a terse moment…he stares right at you. with his tongue going over his lips, savoring your taste. “i let you cum, you promise to get me out of here.”
….
help him break out? 
all this so you could orgasm….
you swallowed, chest heaving and your legs felt nearly nonexistent. geto looked serious though, brushing a thumb against your sloppy clit. he awaited your answer and you were deep in pondering thought.
you’d for sure get fired, then again you did hate your job. 
the fact that you were even contemplating letting an inmate break out just to cum. you just wanted a release so bad, the way his tongue lapped against your pussy, the smooth texture of it flicking back and forth to where your toes curl. you wanted more, and maybe it was a bit concerning that you started to not even care about your profession anymore. 
“promise..”
“oh..?” he slyly remarks, for sure you were gonna at least deny or call him crazy, but a straight answer. he was amused—and the needy look on his face was all he needed to see. “hm, it’s a deal then. go ahead ‘n cum, pretty girl.”
your back arched in ecstasy, he’s holding onto your hips departing his fingers from inside you, and just his tongue’s doing the main finish. you shuddered as you felt yourself vibrate and twitch. the build up had you clenching around nothing but air. “f-fuck…” 
scorching, your body radiated and carried so much heat around it, your eyes started to roll and roll towards the very depths of your head. once you came, you slump back against the rickety mattress, one hand still firmly maintaining its grip on geto’s hair. 
“there there, ‘s okay,” he slyly purrs, making sure to clean you with his tongue. for a split second his eyes close, and geto brings a few kisses against your folds before sitting up to stare down at you. “c’mere.”
you sit up, giving geto a cute needful glance, you craved more and he knew that. you leaned in to kiss him, and he returns it with such filthy passion. geto’s handsy, his slick-smeared lips ghost against yours before he deepens it. a groan gets caught in his throat, and you whine once you feel him lay you down on your back.
he leans up against you and eagerly, you give the orange fabric pants of his jumpsuit a cute tug, a sign for him to take it off. 
“such an impatient little thing,” he murmurs right into your mouth. you whined, wanting him to keep kissing you but he keeps breaking away purposely, watching your lips quiver in desire. “how bad do you want me?”
“s-suguru.” you pouted, your hand finding its way towards his bulge. the strain in his pants, all because of you. 
“don’t ‘suguru’ me,” he rasps in a mocking tone, his body pressed against yours. and only then did you realize the size difference, how buff and well toned geto was. he was an inmate after all, he always had a consistent workout schedule. geto’s dark eyes stare into yours before he brushes a thumb against your glossed lips. “talk to me nice in that pretty voice of yours. you want me? say it then.”
the disappointed pout you had displayed on your lips remained there as you spoke, only to hear how whiney and desperate you were. 
“i want you suguru, please.” you sigh. 
“girl…you’re so unprofessional,” he snickers, a swift snicker leaves from his lips before you hear him shuffle in his suit. pulling down his matched set pants, he tugs near the edge and it goes down. “feel how hard you make me, officer.”
and you let out a soft gasp. 
geto lightly grabs you by the neck, and you let off a needy moan once he starts to rub your face against his boxers. the very imprint of his bulge. “all your fault. got me throbbin’ for you...”
“suguru,” you whined, a small pout spreading on your lips each second he continued to tease you. “suguru, s-stop teasing me.”
“just jokin’,” you plop down on your chest, the moment he lightly shoves you forward against the plush-cushioned bed frame. it creaked from the movements, quite rickety. “oh wow,” he utters in a low voice — quickly averting his eyes towards your work pants, briefly pulling them down to come full-view of your ass. “do correctional officers just…not wear panties or…?”
you let off a moan, feeling him skim a few fingers against your ass, holding back a noise once he presses the leaky fat tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance. 
“i…i forgot.” you whined, mouth watering — you wanted more than anything for him to be inside already. “i was rushing.”
“uh huh,” geto rolls his eyes, and you stared directly at him. the plump fat head of his swiped against your wet folds, a few taps and you were about to go crazy. “ooh. look at you trying to rush me.” 
he was such a tease, you could hear the playfulness in his tone. as geto hovered over you, he took a few moments before slowly easing his way inside you. 
his jaw clenches, and it’s sexy…
the way his muscles would tense all because of you. you were panting, legs just dumbly sprawled out. maybe it was unprofessional, participating in sexual activities with an inmate—yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. all the built up tension surrounding between the two of you. perhaps it was bound to happen. 
“fuck, ‘s warm..” he grunts, and he’s just barely halfway in. you chewed near the inside of your lip, nails clawing down his buff arms and he starts to pant himself. geto was huge. emphasis on huge. 
his happy trail was mesmerizing to look at, the way he had slightly black curly hair coating near the lower half of himself. it was well trimmed, yet much visible to see. the more he gently makes his way inside your cunt, you felt every mean inch. the curve geto had—it was hefty, you felt yourself starting to drool. 
a single vein throbbed, and you felt it. geto bites his tongue marginally. and once he’s fully in, he gives you a coy expression. 
“may i move, officer?” he snickers. 
“p-please.” you whimpered. 
“okay.” he hums, and the bass to his voice was just enough to get you wet. far wetter than you already were. such smoothness dripped from it, it was a deep pitch that always made your heart flutter and sink. 
once he starts up just a single thrust, your body jolts back and you gasp—finding your arms to suddenly grab onto him. 
geto chuckles. “dramatic thing, aren’t you.” you moaned, nails continuing to drag down how skin as you’re laid flat against your back. the angle was so deep and thorough, each hit against your pussy had your kind spasming. in an entire frenzy of you will. 
he leans in to pepper kisses all over your face, strands of his hair that was out tickled against your skin. by this point, he’s buried deep. your head goes back a bit and…oh, that same curve that he had, it continuously made an appearance. 
geto was buried between your legs, hefty sack just thwacking against you. your legs were perfectly bent, shoulder width apart. “f-fuck,” you’d stammer, suddenly clamping all around him. it took a few deep vigorous thrusts, but at this point he’s got your pussy memorizing his lengths size. geto spreads his knees for a more thorough base, his movements were so sloppy you could barely think straight. let alone process anything. “suguru, ‘s right there.”
“right there what?” he teases, leaning in to nibble near the bottom of your lip. the thin fabric of his jumpsuit brushes against your skin—you were just a mess. pulse after pulse, you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was short circuiting. “i can’t hear ya when you mumble, baby.”
“fucking-” you spat, and he chuckles once you’re cut off with a deep kiss. geto vary’s his stance against you, and slides his tongue all throughout your mouth. it’s a rough and passionate kiss—so much so to where, he has you catching his breath. once you pull away, you moan, being brought back to reality from his ruthless smacks he’s making with his dick. “keep…keep hitting me there.”
he hums, giving your bottom lip a slow playful bite again, still ramming his hips against you at such a filthy pace. “is that an order?”
he was so annoying, that two second glance he’d give you—a smirk pressing against his lips, he definitely knew how to get under your skin. “please,” you corrected yourself, nails still running down his back. it pierced against his skin, earning a low husky grunt from him. “keep hitting me in that s-spot, suguru.”
“since ya asked so nicely,” he purrs, sneaking another kiss. this time near the very corner of your mouth. the taste was just glacé, sweet and all. simply divine.
you moaned into his mouth, and as his body weight pressed against yours — you shivered. he’s such a tease, geto starts to lightly ghost your cell keys against your bare tummy. your back arched immediately, the coldness of it just grazing against your skin. “you’re so sensitive.”
his soft, teasing words rang throughout your ears, and as you clung onto him—you felt yourself coming closer and closer. he gripped onto your legs, slightly raising them upward and you moan from the deep deep angled. “o-oh my god.” 
geto’s shallow mean strokes had your eyes rolling all the way back….way back to the very depths of your skull. if you weren’t drooling then, you certainly were now.
the moment he sees you pouting from how he cockily starts to slow down—geto pushes a bit more deeper, grinning from your legs now locking around his waist. 
moments later though, you both freeze at hearing the sound of footsteps approaching near the solitary steel door. 
right when you about to orgasm, you both stare at each other — and it’s another officer. you could tell by the loud echo of the keys dangling against their hips. 
“officer, you alright? been in there a while. we’re finishing up roll call then it’s time for the inmates to sleep.”
shit. 
you couldn’t stay quiet, that’d be suspicious, and you knew you had to say something. geto chuckles, still buried balls deep inside of you, leaning in to give your neck a long suck. your hands ran through his hair and you bit your lip, trying to muster up what to say. 
“your subordinate’s talking to you,” geto teases, and you gasp from how he suddenly pistons his hips, such sloppy ruthless thrusts your breath was merely taken away. “don’t be a rude girl.”
“s-shut up,” you whined, putting a hand in his face and he playfully kisses it. you stop a moan from escaping your lips before you project your voice lightly. “uh, yeah. everything’s good. inmate suguru geto’s asleep. i’m just—just finishing up then i’ll take care of his dishes.”
“alright,” the lower rank replies, and your legs start to shake and jostle against geto. he’s staring at you, just wanting for you to slip up. a few awkward seconds pass before the officer continues to speak. “are we still on for tonight?”
you gulped, and geto raises his brows before whispering into your neck. “…oh, tonight, yeah?”
by all means, you felt so embarrassed, heat rises up to your cheeks as if your entire body wasn’t already burning up from his weight pressing down against you.
you ended up cumming mid-convo, and had to cover your mouth to not be so noisy. you clenched all around geto, just a twitching and spasming mess. 
“y-yeah, we are.”
“good, good,” he speaks through the other end of the closed steel door. poor officer, he sounds so ecstatic, a bit of confidence running through his tone. “i’ll see you then, pumpkin.”
geto blurted out laughing and you had to slap a hand against his mouth. the moment the coast is clear and he walks away, you glare and he simpers. 
“pumpkin,” he repeats, mimicking your co-workers accent. “i didn’t know you had plans. have me looking like a fool, hmpf.”
“my private life isn’t your busin—” and you get cut off once geto abruptly sits you upright, to where you’re just straddling him. you moan, your cunt still being stuffed full of his thick inches — and for a moment, you felt his vein prod against you. 
geto groans, seeing how your pupils were all dilated from your recent release. “yeahhh, it isn’t,” he says, grabbing ahold of your waist. you’re rocking back and forth and he’s so thick that you’re just completely cockdrunk and dizzy. “but ‘m having too much fun with you.”
you gasp once you feel the back of geto’s hand roughly smack your ass again, and again, and again. he loves the recoil — you hiss from the sting as your hips roll and maneuver against his lap. “you’re such a dirty girl. i don’t want you to go on that date. stay with me.”
“y-you can’t be serious.” you muttered, arms thrown over his neck. and for a brief moment, it was almost as if you heard a faint of jealously lingering on his tone. it made you throb, this high and mighty notorious inmate feeling this way…for a nobody like you. 
“dead serious, baby,” he utters, and you can sense geto’s close too from the way his jaw tightens. his head tilts back and he bites down on his lip. “that way i won’t be less lonely. talking to the wall ‘n everything.”
oh right, he was in solitary confinement. purposely secluded from the other guards and inmates. geto was considered a danger, yet here you were — stupidly bouncing on his dick. 
“but ‘m not so lonely now that you’re here,” he coos against your ear, and you whimper once he drags a hand down between your legs. he gives your pussy a few mean spanks and you whimpered. “fuck, keep moaning in my ear like that ‘n i’m gonna give you so much of my cum.”
“i need it.” you pleaded, tears swelling up in your eyes, you genuinely didn’t know what got over you — your body was so achy, each time he traced his fingers down your body, you whined. you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be filled. 
geto groans, and his hefty base kept smacking back against you, your hips jerked as you tightly held onto him, marking up the very inner part of his neck with soft bite marks. 
“f-fine,” he grumbles, and his voice gets a bit high, he’s growing out to be sensitive from the pressure building up. he even gets a tad bit whiney himself. the constant skin smacking makes him kiss his teeth, and his head throws back yet again—long pretty hair flowing against his shoulders. “god, you’re so fuckin’ nasty. riding me this g-good.”
you even start to tug on his hair, and that makes him moan even more. not like he minded. it turned him on, needless to say. 
once geto came, it was thick, so much that it instantly spilled out of your cunt. you paused your hips, and he silenced his groans by grunting against your neck. he’s shaking just as much as you were — and it came out in velvety ropes, spurting and spurting. 
“take it all,” he hisses, gripping onto your waist tightly. you whimper, grinding against him just for a few seconds and he’s for once speechless. “damn, those hips of yours is so deadly, fuck.”
you whined, sitting up and he pulls out of you, watching his own cum spill and drip out. geto brings a thumb towards your clit to smear it all over your pussy, an image that was a something he’d never erase from his mind. 
you panted, hitting your back against his bunk while geto leans in to kiss you deeply. you kissed back, dragging your tongue against his, feeling his warm breath fan against yours before he pulls away with a weary expression. 
“good girl,” he murmurs, peppering a soft kiss near the side of your mouth. “remember my promise?” 
“yeah.” you exhale, trying to catch your breath. your legs felt like jello — head clouded and entirely empty, not a single thought in your mind. 
he smiles. “good. because i forgot to tell ya something else,” and you stare at him, a soft confused head tilt, watching him re-adjust his jumpsuit, pulling his boxers and pants part up. “have fun being in solitary by yourself.”
“wait w-what?” you stammer, and reaches the door, your own keys in hand — and you couldn’t have felt anymore stupid. geto chuckles, with a sly shrug. “princess, you were so gullible. letting me take your keys,” and he unlocks the huge latch before grinning. “but hey, don’t feel too bad. you have a date tonight.”
you glare, overwhelmed with emotions before spitting out a, “fuck you.”
“you literally just did,” he wriggles his eyebrows. “don’t worry. i’ll come back for you,” and then he opens the steel door.
yet before slamming it, he gives you a wink and that same sly grin. “nah i’m just kidding, no i won’t. sorry.”
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supercutszns · 5 months
Text
a place with you; luke castellan
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wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)
pairing: luke castellan x f! reader
synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.
warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker
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Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.
So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.
When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.
“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.
“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”
You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.
Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.
So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.
Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.
Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?
This time, though, he’s a little worried.
It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.
It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.
There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.
You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.
“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”
You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”
It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”
The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.
Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”
“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”
You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”
He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”
“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”
“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”
“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”
You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”
It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.
Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”
“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.
His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”
I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.
“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”
It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”
He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”
Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”
Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.
Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.
Until you’re claimed.
Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.
He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.
Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.
You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.
But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?
After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.
“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.
You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”
Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.
You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”
When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”
There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.
He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.
“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.
You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”
“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”
It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”
He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”
You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”
There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”
Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”
He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”
His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”
He turns back to you. “Really?”
“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.
“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”
Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”
His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”
It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”
There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”
You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.
He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.
“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”
“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.
He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”
Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.
But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.
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